The C#mbridge Salem Halloween Hash

The C#mbridge H*sh Hallloween run 10/24/2009

Salem, MA

Pre-lube: Porter's Bar and Grill

Hare: Wang Chunks

Bag Car: Stretch P#ssy

RA: Krusty the Meat Miser

Surprise Scribe: The Maid of Honor

Da Pack:

Jimmy crackwhore, Dirty layte sanchez, Dude, where's my virginity, P#ssy factory, Counterfeit dick, Peppermint p#ssy, Inconvenient poop, Fisty, Nancy Reagan, G-string, Pbbv..., Bbag, Gay pride, Cougar consulting, Cletus the fetus

So uh... I'm a lazy bum and I agreed to write this one about a month ago. Since then I have slacked like crazy. I also wasn't the designated scribe until afterwards, so no notes. We shall see what I can remember.

Now that I have whined I will commence with making up great stories about all of you.

On-ghouls-gone-wild-On!

The Pack slowly assembled in Porters and had ourselves some early afternoon brews. Apparenty MOH didn't get the memo that we were in the witches and warlocks themed costumes. Everyone else showed up in there dark garb while MOH showed up in A jester outfit and some killer running tights. Pbbzzt... and MOH remenisced about the good old days of writing suggestive messages all the way up Pbbbzzzt...'s leg on the graffiti h*sh. Oh the good ol days.

We had some strange conversations in the bar including one in which the stereotypical image of lesbians was shot down as the norm. The locals agreed. Someone may have mentioned lipstick lesbians as the cure to the broken fantasy. H*sh managed to avoid offending any die-hard feminists in our midst. We left the Porters and tromped on down to North Station.

Most of the pack managed to follow the instructions and make the train to Salem. Most...

The train ride was about as subdued as could be expected from a group of folks applying black lipstick to their male contingent and Fisty trading her corset off to another h*sher. Fisty, it looked great on you too, don't worry.

Arrival in Salem and we met up with a few more brave h*shers willing to face the drizzle. Nancy pulled up in style only to realize he and MOH were both jesters. Faux pas!

Wang let us know what we were doing and we scurried off down an abandoned rail bed. Got lost several times before finding a marked trail that actually led into Salem. Finally the travesty could begin in earnest.

Off to a good start we had a song check directly in front of a line for a haunted tour bus. Salem in October is full of a lot of freaks. Our pride continues that we can still top the bunch and really confuse, amuse, and generally make people feel uncomfortable. We rock.

Back to trail. Which, as it turns out was getting very challenging to follow. If I remember correctly, this was a dead trail on a fairly rainy day. In other words.. fading fast! We hustled down the main street of vendors in Salem, speculating that there was a trail hidden somewhere under there feet. Whatever the case was, we did find trail at the end of it. More mucking about the residential neighborhoods finally pointed us towards the harbor shore.

We found one of the best BC's ever. Wang and Stretch had a small burner out the back of a truck warming a pot of cider to which excellent things were added. This is a very good way to make the pack happy.

The BC came to an end and Wang pointed us towards the continuation of trail. More Running through throngs of costumed people.

And then we came to a very special place! A giant statue of Bend Over Mommy's ancestor. I think he was standing triumphantly with virgins fawning at his feet. Makes sense with a cool descendent like BOM.

All the vendors around town were really starting to make me hungry! Between the hot salted nuts and spicy giant sausage I was salivating. (I believe the stache made me write that again)

We found the On-In which was some chill divy bar/restaurant. No idea what it was called. Bu they were very cool with us taking over their back alley to sing songs and drink beverages.

Circle involved calling out C#mbridge virgins, hat wearers, non-costume wearers, late-c#mmers, backsliders, and generally anyone who just deserved to drink more.

Somewhere along the line Krusty found the mankiest rotting roller blade I have ever seen. Which we then tried to get one of the pack to drink out of. He refused claiming something about standards... BS.

Most importantly we gave a shout out to our favorite future H*sher: Cletus the Fetus (currently residing like a creepy alien in Dude, Where's my virginity's belly)

BBAG was kind enough to be a surrogate down downer for his spawn.

We finished up and went into the bar to settle into many pitchers and a bunch of cheap, mostly edible food.

We took our dear sweet time and missed the first train. So that lead to more pitchers.

Which got us into fine form. I can now continue my H*sh grooming styles commentary with a shout out to Fisty sporting the Adult woman, full, but not out of control styling.

Eventually we extricated ourselves and blazed a trail back to the train. With so many pitchers in us it just didn't seem right to let the peace rest. And so we sang. Oh did we sing. The platform of that train may never be the same. Verse after Verse of Yogi, S&M Man, old department store, and one particularly cruel rendition of Jesus saves once a sign-board man approached us with his “Jesus Saves!” Signs.

Forget it dude. We are beyond saving.

On-Halloween-debauchery-On

-The Maid of Honor

The Big Lebowski Hash 10/11/2009

What: The Big Lebowski H@sh

When: A long friggin time ago(AKA Oct 11th)

Who: Hares Shawskank and 5” Penalty

Bag Car: Just Sarah (F#cksaw)

RA: Necrophiliac Jack

Scribing: the Maid of Honor

Pre-lube: Clark's in South Station

Pack: The Maid of Honor, Floppy D1ck, Cocktologist, Necrophiliac Jack (RA), Just Raina, Better late than Pregnant, Just Sandra, Grease my Monkey's Nuts, Just Heather, Virgin Mark, Just Kim, Just Zeek, Sugar Plum Fairy, Pat My Fly, Just Jenny, Jamaican me c#m, Hare club, Just Ted (Moose Knuckles) Goat Throat, Bend over Mommy, Stickin it to the Bros, Just michelle, TBags

Memorable phone call while waiting at the pre-lube: Shawskank: So is Clarks IN South Station...

an auspicious start!

Things started off normally enough. Some choice beverages and a few people in appropriate bathrobes. Soon after we saw off the hares and the pack settled back into their beverages. Soon we too had to leave the warm confines of the bar and brave the chilly Boston air. Outside of South Station we flumoxed about a bit trying to find trail but picked it up heading south toward the piers. This was going very well with the sun shining down on us and we followed happily along a well marked trail.

Funny thing happened.. We realized it was in fact not the correct well marked trail. It was the AGM trail. FML! After some back tracking we got back to what we assumed was trail and followed it for a bit.

Deja Vue time, We then found the Moon H@sh trail of two days before. At this point as I remember it (and lets face it who are you to question what I'm saying here. I had a very official looking notepad, which I would never write lies in just to prompt messages like this later) we started to test out methods for dating the h@sh marks. Close visual examination seems to be the go to with taste tasting coming in as a sorry second. Old chalk and new chalk both taste similar. With a refined palette the subtleties of the drunken p1sses and hobo stank will start to show through in the older marks.

Back on subject! We back tracked more and eventually found what looked like fresh marks and a part of town that no one could remember running on at any of the other recent H@shes. Progress? We got down near the fish pier and ran smack into what we all agreed had to be a meeting of the mafia. Down on a pier in classic, well-maintained American cars... wearing suits and calling eachother a mix of Vito's and Tony's. Sure it could have been the American Legion.. but this is the H@sh! Boring things don't happen! Also thikn we spotted the oldest hookers ever out on the pier.

Right about then (on what I think was 3+ miles in with our detours) most of the pack took a left towards the fish wharf and I started following a very well marked trail. G-damn. Not the trail again.

We back tracked and out on the end of the Fish Pier we found the pack happily drinking white russians and enjoying a quick dip in the harbor.

Wait what? Yeah that's right. Goat throat went swimming. Luckily the only state troopers we met from this harbor swimming trip were in cars. And they didn't bat an eye at us.

Overheard at this point:

Shawskank to her co-hare 5” “You are such a needy cohare!!”

Just Sandra: “I want bigger!”

Jamaicain: “Yeah, but sometimes the big ones are to much work”

Whatever that means. Hares away and the pack follows soon after.

I should have mentioned that on the way down we passed by the convention center and what not. Only say this because it helps set up the confusion that ensued when we AGAIN passed by following trail and found the old cement colored chalk was now crossed out with a new direction. This was a flash point for a moment of tension when part of the pack which allegedly had been utilizing A MAP!!!!! went on the old trail and the folks who had been painstakingly following the trail knew this was old trail. They did not inform the folks running back in a circle. Was there map involved? Who knows, but they were a fit bunch and clearly needed the detour.

The trail continued meandering back towards South Station, at one point crossing back onto itself... which also meant it was now on top of the current H@sh direction 1, AGM, and moon H@sh... This was difficult to follow. Seriously, I had a headache! (Full disclaimer: I think I was hungover as sh!t) This was about the point we all started to cheer that a long trail (pushing 5-6 miles by now) was coming to an end and that perhaps this was an A to A trail.

Nope. More time spent being lost and back tracking. Soon we found ourselves in the neighborhood of the Hong Kong. Surely the madness was coming to an end. Not even close. Henceforth the act of bringing the pack near the Hong Kong but not ending the trail in its hallowed halls will be known as a “Kong Tease.” So yea, Shawskank is a giant Kong Tease. Our esteemed Hares managed to find one of the sketchier alleys behind Hong kong and we had BC #2. At this point we were all a bit tired but still up for the sport of things. We came to a discovery that Necro was sporting a perma-boner. I know some people tried to take pictures with it. More novelty than impressive. However that didn't stop the harriets from chalking it. To try and distract the pack from his half mast, Necro attempts to climb the side of a building. He managed to climb a ways, but apparently it was an exhilarating experience as he came back from it at maybe ¾ staff. Pack is very ammused. Just Zeek takes it upon himself at this point to welcome Necro down to Rhode Island H3 anytime as it is “A strictly gay H@sh.”

Hares away again. And the pack to follow. Much of this next section my mind has blocked out to preserve some semblance of happiness. We made it to the Common and found a Check back. Yea.. It is impossible to over mark a trail.

I won't go into the details of how we again found the trail but it was an act of desperation. Quite a few of us were starting to pretend we were cast offs of the old fahts H@sh with knee and ankle complaints running wild. Pretty sad.

We made it to Jacques!!! which was the On-In!

Everyone staggered in and sat themselves dejectedly around the tables in one of the H@sh's favorite watering holes. Even though we didn't end at BBAG's place, we did manage to bump into our drunk and he stopped by Jacques for a bit. Never one to shirk his duties!

More interesting quotes:

Necro (in regards to a hot asian tranny) “And then she grabbed my junk!”

Just Sandra “It's better to not get stiff..... well SOMETIMES!”

Circle

Virgin Mark was called into the circle. His sponsor Just Kim accompanied him. Upon being asked to demonstrate a proper lap dance he readily complied! Just Kim confirmed through her response that he was indeed doing a good job. Especially after the shirt came off. We'll wait for confirmation from them to see what happened later.

Visitors:

Grease my Monkey's Nuts and Goat Throat sang about incest. No surprises there.

Backsliders:

Just Sandra, Just Kim, Tbags, 5” penalty, Better late than pregnant, and Jamaican. I'm sure they sang something. Lets pretend it was a rousing round of Poker Face.

Accusations:

FRB: Hare Club

FBI: Just Heather

DFL: Tbags

Sitting in Circle: (F you all I was trying to take notes) The Maid of Honor

Stripping: Goat Throat and Tbags

Map Checking: Necro, Just Ted, Just Zeek, Bros

And then someone realized we were all wearing red for some reason so we had a red shrt party and all drank.

Necro then anounced he had snared the hares.

And proceeded to try and pants the harriet.

Word to the wise: Depending on what reaction you want, ascertain the presence of undergarments before pantsing someone in running tights.

Word to the Harriets: Landing strips are an excellent decision.

Word to the Pantser: expect swift justice from the pack... and male trimming might just give you that optical inch you desire. Ref http://www.shaveeverywhere.com/

Passing over my strong urge to document further H@sher grooming techniques (Fisty, I get it! You are a strong proud woman!)

NAMING TIME!

Just Sarah: Who has so nicely hared and bag carred repeatedly was called into the circle with little chance of escaping.

Stories: on her first H@sh she performed admirably and woke up in the ER with a recorded BAC of 0.369. Props!

I also have a note here that said she gave a pole dance demonstration on Jack's Pole. If that means more to one of you than to me I welcome the input. (welcoming input.... I made a funny)

Naming possibilities: “No Beer without ER” “Pole .369”

New story about her and a perpetual in and out machine at work.. She declared it a “F#cksaw!”

No surprises here, We now present you with “F#cksaw!” (Less shocking a month after the naming, but at least it is documented)

More Accusations:

Half Mast Buddies: Necro and Just Zeek (contagious boys?) Thank goodness we had the C0cktologist on hand to let them know that they were approaching the point at which they should seek medical attention.

Beer wasting (BOOOO!) Preggers

Pre-emptive fluid consumption: Virgin Mark and Just Kim (was there post H@sh fluid consumption as penance?)

Ironic pointing: Cocktologist

Private Party: Just Zeek and Preggers

And that did it. We ate tasty sandwiches, drank a few more drinks, and then bemoaned the lack of tranny shows on Sunday afternoons.

-The Maid of Honor

P.S. The Stache H@sh is next Sunday starting at Our House East at 2:30 HST. I have been growing out this beast for all of you and I need it gone. c#m and validate my efforts!

P.P.S. The Furry H@sh is January 10th.www.Spirithalloween.com is running a special on halloween costumes until the 29th of November. You can now find yourself a cheap furry suitable outfit.

Tom Cruise Hash

Hare: Gay Pride!Spontaneous Hare: BBAG
Bag Car: Floppy D*ck
RA: Jack

Pack: Taj My Hole, Just Heather, I Eat Teabags, Vagitarian, Dribbles, Show Me The Hole, Pat My Fly,The Butler Hit It, Brigham Tongue, Necrophiliac Jack, Sugar Plum Fairy, Just Jason, Just Zeke, Just Ellen and her Virgin, Just Jenny, Just Katie, Willy Wonka and the Back Door Factory, Peppermint P*ssy, and myself (Dude Where's My Virginity.) We unsuccessfully tried to recruit some famous people to be spontaneous virgins without luck (details below.)

Sorry, I probably forgot several people, I didn't write down names as I did not expect to scribe. However, given the awesomeness of the trail I have to do a short write-up!

Trail started at John Harvard's Brewhouse in Harvard Square. Note to newbies, there is a great place in Harvard Square called Whitney's where they have good cheap beer and the bartender is cool. Most of the staff apparently was decent at John Harvard's but the bartender was awful.

We ran in circles around and through Harvard and Harvard Square. We ran by BBAG's favorite building. We ended up in Cambridgeport where apparently the hares had a falling out and each set their own trail. Eventually, after about 3 miles we ended up at a beer check along the river. It was a nice location but the beer was warm and there was no water (it had gotten sunny and warm by now.) Good weather to hash!

The hares made out, I mean made up, and were off. Pack enjoyed the sun and Vagitarian going shirtless! As pack headed away, several of us noticed bag car was nowhere to be found and had not asked anyone to clean up. Vagitarian, Just Heather and I went back to clean up. Pat My Fly had gotten most of the cans together and we helped dispose of them. We also found about 10 leftover beers! Alcohol abuse! Since we are bad*ss, we decided to carry them on trail. And it was a good thing we did!

Just Heather took the lead as we ran along Memorial Drive. A pack of runners approached us. Just Heather grabbed a beer and tried to give it to the hot guy at the front of the pack. He gave us an award-winning smile and said (and I quote) "No Thank You." His quite attractive wife smiled at us. The body guards gaped. I stopped short and yelled, "HEATHER, DO YOU REALIZE YOU JUST OFFERED TOM CRUISE A BEER!?!?!?! And that was Katie Holmes right behind him!!!"

We laughed, screamed, and Vag ran back after them. The bodyguards waved her away. She yelled "Tom I love you and want to have your baby!" We celebrated by shotgunning beers on Mem Drive. We called the pack to see where they were since we were hopelessly behind and couldn't find any marks.

To make a long run short, we met up with the pack at MIT where BBAG led the group to a free concert (Mission of Burma.) The leftover warm beers came in handy for the lucky few who drank behind a sculpture so the cops wouldn't see them. The music was good but we didn't stay long because we all had dangerously low blood alcohol levels.

We then ran to Courtside. Some people allege that trail was 10 miles. I say 7-8. At that point there's not much difference. Circle was short. The virgin was demented (nice demo with Just Ellen of reverse doggy-style.) Two transplants were introduced (Just Jason from NY and Just Zeke from RI.) Pizza was eaten. Beer was enjoyed. Tom Cruise was discussed. Yes, he is pretty short!

-Dude Where's My Virginity (one time only scribe so I can tell you how awesome Just Heather is, and she really needs a name.)

The Tom Cruise Hash

Hare: Gay Pride!Spontaneous Hare: BBAG
Bag Car: Floppy D*ck
RA: Jack

Pack: Taj My Hole, Just Heather, I Eat Teabags, Vagitarian, Dribbles, Show Me The Hole, Pat My Fly,The Butler Hit It, Brigham Tongue, Necrophiliac Jack, Sugar Plum Fairy, Just Jason, Just Zeke, Just Ellen and her Virgin, Just Jenny, Just Katie, Willy Wonka and the Back Door Factory, Peppermint P*ssy, and myself (Dude Where's My Virginity.) We unsuccessfully tried to recruit some famous people to be spontaneous virgins without luck (details below.)

Sorry, I probably forgot several people, I didn't write down names as I did not expect to scribe. However, given the awesomeness of the trail I have to do a short write-up!

Trail started at John Harvard's Brewhouse in Harvard Square. Note to newbies, there is a great place in Harvard Square called Whitney's where they have good cheap beer and the bartender is cool. Most of the staff apparently was decent at John Harvard's but the bartender was awful.

We ran in circles around and through Harvard and Harvard Square. We ran by BBAG's favorite building. We ended up in Cambridgeport where apparently the hares had a falling out and each set their own trail. Eventually, after about 3 miles we ended up at a beer check along the river. It was a nice location but the beer was warm and there was no water (it had gotten sunny and warm by now.) Good weather to hash!

The hares made out, I mean made up, and were off. Pack enjoyed the sun and Vagitarian going shirtless! As pack headed away, several of us noticed bag car was nowhere to be found and had not asked anyone to clean up. Vagitarian, Just Heather and I went back to clean up. Pat My Fly had gotten most of the cans together and we helped dispose of them. We also found about 10 leftover beers! Alcohol abuse! Since we are bad*ss, we decided to carry them on trail. And it was a good thing we did!

Just Heather took the lead as we ran along Memorial Drive. A pack of runners approached us. Just Heather grabbed a beer and tried to give it to the hot guy at the front of the pack. He gave us an award-winning smile and said (and I quote) "No Thank You." His quite attractive wife smiled at us. The bodyguards gaped. I stopped short and yelled, "HEATHER, DO YOU REALIZE YOU JUST OFFERED TOM CRUISE A BEER!?!?!?! And that was Katie Holmes right behind him!!!"

We laughed, screamed, and Vag ran back after them. The bodyguards waved her away. She yelled "Tom I love you and want to have your baby!" We celebrated by shotgunning beers on Mem Drive. We called the pack to see where they were since we were hopelessly behind and couldn't find any marks.

To make a long run short, we met up with the pack at MIT where BBAG led the group to a free concert (Mission of Burma.) The leftover warm beers came in handy for the lucky few who drank behind a sculpture so the cops wouldn't see them. The music was good but we didn't stay long because we all had dangerously low blood alcohol levels.

We then ran to Courtside. Some people allege that trail was 10 miles. I say 7-8. At that point there's not much difference. Circle was short. The virgin was demented (nice demo with Just Ellen of reverse doggy-style.) Two transplants were introduced (Just Jason from NY and Just Zeke from RI.) Pizza was eaten. Beer was enjoyed. Tom Cruise was discussed. Yes, he is pretty short!

-Dude Where's My Virginity (one time only scribe so I can tell you how awesome Just Heather is, and she really needs a name.)

Daylight Moon Hash

Moon hash apparently doesn't have a scribe, but that doesn't mean there's not trash to be aired, so I figured I'd volunteer, starting as far back as memory (kind of) serves. Until I decide not to. Or get replaced. Or, you know, move to Africa.

Hare: Goes Down on Buoys (Sp*rm Dumpster)
Bag Car: The Buttler Hit It (Cocksmith)
RA: Puff'n'Stuff
Pack: Hare Club, High An*s, Goat Throat, Bend Over Mommy, Just Sager (Saskapoon), Brigham Tongue (Bloody P*ssy), Stick It To The Bros, Peppermint P*ssy
Latecummer: Wang Chunks
Pre-lube: MJ O'Connors in Boston
Weather: Drizzly and cold

Not only was this a full moon hash without a moon, but it was a Cajun trail. This was all very novel and exciting, but the excitement wore off when the pack got lost within the first 5 minutes. Actually, it was more like the first 2 minutes. We found the first few marks just fine, then spent 15 minutes trying to find trail. Apparently a yellow "X" was a mark (silly us, we assumed chalk marks would all be arrows, albeit not necessarily pointing in the correct direction, and that "X" meant false. Apparently not).

Trail went through the Boston Common, and on past BBAG's place (where, sadly, there was not a beer check). Goat Throat proved to have a knack for finding the deviously-hidden marks, which were on things like trees, and underneath scaffolding in the shadows… unfortunately by the time we got back to near the
Common, Goat's luck deserted him. Someone went running off to the north while the rest of us looked by the Common, in the graveyard, up and down both sides of every road … well, except the road trail went down, where the mark was cleverly hidden behind a dumpster. Nice.

We then ran through the seating area of a restaurant called Marylianes advertising $1 oysters between 4 and 6pm (the things I notice…) and then pretty quickly got lost again. Around this point the pack lost trail again. Mommy reported that someone had called the hash hotline, and the beer check was under the bridge by the Barking Crab. So, we all proceeded directly there, confusing the hare and bag car who were expecting us to come from the other direction.

At this point, Peppermint P*ssy showed up, having run at least part of the first trail. Not sure what her excuse was, something about work? Or something? The pack encouraged the hare to be less sneaky by half with the marks, so we had a prayer of finding them. Once we got a little bit cold the hare headed out and pack was away!

Trail wound through Seaport and after about 5 minutes (we could actually find the marks on this half of trail), the pack got a serious case of déjà vu as the trail was almost exactly identical to AGM the week before: running through a parking lot, then by the Seaport hotel, but this time rather than up steps by the seaport we ran upstairs in a bus station.

Heading towards the convention center I was far in front of the pack. Having found a check I headed off to scout trail and somehow managed to fall down while running at high speed. The pavement was uneven, or that's my story and I'm sticking to it. No one witnessed this epic hash crash, but the evidence was quite apparent (and it still hurt like a b*tch the next week when I was scouting trail, OW!). From this point forward trail was almost identical to the AGM trail, including the long deathmarch near where the BC was at AGM. This time, the pack got lost (surprised?) very near the on-in and spent a little while looking for trail in a parking lot, down some railroad tracks, etc., and in the likely direction of the all the bars in Southie until I think Hare Club zenned or saw the hare/FRB/bag car at the on-in location, which was an abandoned lot, and led us there forthwith.

So we had something like 300 Natty Ice and Natty Lites for 11 people, and we decided to do the best we could to drink all of the beers. After we had drunk about half the beers, Wang Chunks decided to show up to help us with the other half. Apparently he had nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon.

We had some moon hash namings! Starting with me, because of my aforementioned accident. Between the road rash and stories of my kitten who likes to jump onto my shoulders via the skin of my back, I was renamed Bloody P*ssy. That took about 2 minutes and was really the only decent suggestion.

Goes Down on Buoys was, after much back-and-forth, renamed Sp*rm Dumpster. I'm not sure why. But he seems to hate the name, which means it's a good name.

Just Sager (who STILL doesn't have a Boston hash name … seriously, people!) was christened Saskapoon, I guess because North Dakota where he is from is somewhat close to Saskatchewan. I don't know. But it was better than the other names, which I don't remember.

Finally, The Buttler Hit It was renamed Cocksmith due to an high school incident involving duplicating keys, and NOT GETTING AWAY WITH IT.

This lot must serve as an ad hoc dog park, because at some point during circle this beautiful dog came to visit us with its owners. Also, there was a party going on under a tent about a half a block away. People sounded like they were having a good time, and at one point I could have sworn I heard "On-on!" coming from under the tent but I must have been hearing things.

I don't really remember too much about the rest of circle thanks to the quantity of beer, and something about "when one p*ssy drinks, all p*ssies drink." Also, Cocksmith's attempt at new lyrics to When It's Hog Calling Time in Nebraska did not go over so well. Eventually we actually finished the beer, ended circle, and headed to Cornerstone Pub for on-after. I don't remember too much about that either, except I was told that Goat Throat stole a plate of chicken wings from a child. That doesn't seem like it could possibly be quite right, but there it is folks.

After the on-after, Buttler jokingly asked if we should crash the tent party. Emboldened by alcohol, I proceeded to do just that. Surprisingly, the partygoers were very welcoming and shared their beer until it ran out (but they went to go get more, so all was well). We entertained them with stories of hashing, and I did a solo rendition of Yogi, much to their bemusement. I don't remember very much else (surprised?).

- Bloody P*ssy (aka Brigham Tongue)