The G-vegas O-Limpiks

Hash Trash No. 59: (But can we really call this a hash?)
In one of the most devious and underhanded events in the
history of UHHH, Narcoleptic Noodle and 7 Seconds lured a dozen or so
hashers to downtown on the pretense of a hash and instead tried to
sell them an array of ginzu knives, time-shares and AmWay products to
no avail.
Or something like that…just read on. The G-Vegas O-Limpiks
appeared to be just like any other hash with a flier, a promise of
beer and some exercise when the usual gang of degenerates arrived
behind the popular Chicora Alley downtown.Hashers were asked to wear
gear representing a specific country (Olympics theme) as well. The
hounds started to drink heavily while the hares started to act
suspiciously. They whispered to each other. Made excuses for delays.
Filled out a strange chart system. And would vanish every few minutes
into the bar.
A half hour late per tradition, the hares called the pack to a
start. NFHN John (more on this poor soul later) noted that Noodle was
wearing sandals instead of sneakers. And then 7 Seconds drew a chalk
start line with powder and announced it was a beer mile! A beer mile,
for the uninformed, is the bastard child of a hash run and a sprint
race where the contestants chug a beer, run a quarter mile; chug a
beer, run a quarter mile; chug a beer, run a quarter mile and finally,
you guessed it chug a beer, run a quarter mile.
After some grousing by the hounds and assurances it was a beer
mile, and what a beer mile was, the event started. Prom Queen, who
drank four beers already, chugged his Busch Lite in about 8 seconds
and was the first one off the line. Prom Queen’s early lead, though,
was short lived as Peggy Pullanasti took the lead in the first lap and
led the next two as well. Virgin Scott pushed Pullanasti on the fourth
lap, but could not exceed the pride of Syracuse.
The real battle came for third place when NFHN Tanya overtook
former Michigan State University cross country star, seven-time
Transplant Olympic medalist, nine-time Transgender Olympic medalist,
and 18-time Foley Family Backyard BBQ and Jamboree champion Daily Newd
on the final hill by one second. Prom Queen finally finished fifth
with Butt Sex bringing up his rear. Piss Tumble fell across the line
for seventh while Chair Banger pummeled his way to eight. Virgin Les
popped his cherry on the way to ninth place and NFHN John came in
10th.
Virgin Melinda was the only person smart enough to just drink
and stopped running. Then came the circle where many celebratory down-
downs where consumed by virgins, hares and NFHN Tanya learned a
valuable lesson about wearing r*ce attire and shoes. And then there
was the naming of NFHN John. Daily Newd led the questioning where
slowly NFHN John’s life were unfolded like the layers of a rather
stinky onion. Revealed were a history of heavy drinking, rampant
weight loss, multiple marriages, multiple sex partners, multiple
crimes, nudist camps, debauchery, lechery, voting Republican and
several odd career choices. And that was just what happened in the
week leading up to the hash.
With all of that in mind, the pack redubbed NFHN John “Rug
Renovator.” The circle was closed and the pack retired to Chicora
Alley just in time to watch the Braves lose an 18-inning NLCS game to

The Wedding Crash Hash

Hash 73:

The Wedding Crash Hash

Hares: Piss Tumble, Titty Titty Gang Bang

Rose Holder: BSIA

Pack: Seven Seconds, Daily Newd, Rug Doctor, Chair Banger, High
Chair Banger, Rigor Mortis, Pole Dancer, Swish and Swallow, NFHN
Megan, NFHN Kathy Just Beth, Hogtown (out of town hasher)

An unusually large number of harriers showed up at the Bank of
America parking lot on a Tuesday night for a small, intimate hash. The
hares, Titty Titty Gang Bang and Piss Tumble, were nowhere to be seen.
They apparently had left for the first beer stop, but left flour with
Seven Seconds.

After some idling, the pack followed a piss-poor trail to the
Bowater Garage where they encountered a long countback that returned
them to the starting spot. They were soon off again, and this time
caught the hares underneath the Liberty Bridge.

Hash tradition calls for pantsing the hares and dumping flour on
their heads, but since TTGB was wearing an elegant white dress and
Piss Tumble was in a suit, we did something much worse!

A man in a black robe was walking by as well and offered to
help. So after a few minutes of discussing what to do, Piss Tumble and
TTGB were wed underneath the bridge. For some reason, they had family
there as well, so it may have been planned.

After forcing TTGB and Piss Tumble to stand for a lot of photos
(part of the torture of being caught) they were brought into the
Circle to do a down-down and for once the trail was ranked with a
thumbs up. Circle was then broken and the crowd went to Chicora Alley.

The Grand Debauchery

A group of drunken hashers, hopelessly off-trail, ran by in the middle
of the night and stole this valuable hash trash. We are currently in
negotiations for the return of this hash trash, and hopefully it will
be posted within a few days. I won’t even tell you how many beers
they’re demanding for its safe return.

St. Pat's Day Blast

Hash No. 67

[Note No. 1 from the Web Master(bater)]: No children were harmed in
the making of this hash. Pole Dancer, however, was a bit the worse for
wear. [Note No. 2]: In this re-hashing of the facts, we graciously
ignored the fact that TTGB and Piss Tumble really needed to get a
room. -- RugDr.

Hares: Narcoleptic Noodle, Titty Titty Gang Bang, Piss Tumble

Beer Truck driver: Chair Banger, Mrs. Chair Banger, and Little Chair
Banger

Harriers: Daily Newd, Rug Doctor, Pole Dancer, Bust Her Hymen, NFHN
Mahalia, NFHN Scott, Just Rick, Just Ritchie.

What kind of hash stops at two bars, but doesn’t drink there, finds
the shaggiest trail in Greenville and has some named Ass Pocket while
on the trail? That would be the UH3’s St. Patty’s Day Hash 2006.

A group of hung over Leprechaun lovers met behind Dougal McGuire’s on
Laurens Road where they were harassed by drunks entering the bar,
chased Chair Banger’s son around the parking lot, and wore tacky green
stuff including wee shot glasses that were filled on many occasions
with beer.

A half-hour or so late per tradition, the hares stumbled off in a
drunken stupor begging for a 10-minute head start. The pack actually
gave them around nine minutes; the harriers felt generous. Boy, were
they being too fricking nice.

The hares “allegedly” laid fresh trail through the longest, nastiest
amount of briars and thorn bushes imaginable. Only Bust Her Hymen had
the good sense to circumvent it completely, while the rest of the pack
thrashed through the ungodly mess and got truly bloody.

The battered and bruised pack eventually made it out of the woods and
found the first beer stop outside the esteemed Gaslight Lounge. Did
they go inside? No, they just drank in the parking lot and bitched
about the trail. All except Pole Dancer, who spent the entire stop
running with Chair Banger’s son.

The hares eventually left and vanished around a corner into parts
unknown. The pack soon followed a more urban trail through the greater
Pleasantburg Drive area and across Keith Drive over Interstate 385.
They were aided by several local dignitaries, who pointed which way
the hares went.

NFHN Scott earned his keep on this leg by spotting the hares and the
beer truck down a side road just before the pack headed out from a
boob check. There was much rejoicing. Still, they just drank in the
parking lot and bitched about the trail. All except Pole Dancer, who
spent the entire stop running with Chair Banger’s son.

The third stage led toward East North Street before cutting under a
bridge and downstream. It was a nifty idea by the hares, but the pack
would have none of it and simply followed the trail past braying dogs
and nice backyards.

The pack soon found the hares outside one of the area’s fine schools.
Yet, they just drank in the parking lot and bitched about the trail.
All except Pole Dancer, who spent the entire stop running with Chair
Banger’s son.

Stage four found the twilight coming and the hares running low on
flour as they made their way to the on-in. A tired and bewildered pack
found trace arrows on the ground every hundred or so yards and found
the hares at the Park Avenue Pub.

Yet, they just drank in the parking lot and bitched about the trail.
All except Pole Dancer, who spent the entire stop running with Chair
Banger’s son.

After getting transportation and Bust Her finding flour residue from a
previous hash that went through the area, Circle was formed. The hares
were mocked for the shaggy trail, and then mocked again for their
inability to do a proper down-down. A lot of people including Daily
Newd, Rug Doctor, NFHN Scott Just Rick and Just Ritchie did downs-
downs for hash crimes. Scott, Pole Dancer, and Bust Her did down-downs
for being FRBS. Bust Her then did a down-down for coming in last on
two legs, which may be a hash first…someone being FRB and last.

And then we had a naming. Normally, we wait until someone hashes five
times with the UH3 or actually hares. But sometimes, a new harrier
says something so incredibly amazing there is no need to wait or ask
questions about their sexual exploits, drug usage, etc.

NFHN Mahalia seemed almost hell bent on saying something so bizarre
she would have to get named. Was it her saying she wished she was an
old Jewish woman? Nah. How about her ghetto booty? Nah. How about her
liking the fact that her shorts had an ass pocket? Maybe. How about
her saying she can stick stuff in her ass pocket? Oh yeah.

By general acclaim and quick vote, NFHN Mahalia became Ass Pocket, for
which she was generally grateful.

Circle was broken, and they went to Park Avenue for the On-in. Of
course, they just drank and bitched about the trail. All except Pole
Dancer, who spent the entire stop running with Chair Banger’s son.

Daily Newd's Surprise Birthday Hash

Hash No. 66

Hares: Daily Newd and Lady Long Legs

Beer Truck driver: (3) BustHer Hymen

Harriers (25): NFHN Kristy H.; NFHN Lynn; Moose Knuckle MD; NFHN Adam;
NFHN Reed; NFHN Kathy W.; Just Ashlee; No Cocky Bukkake; Just
Karolina; NFHN Scott; NFHN Dave (now Cock Doc); NFHN Sarah; Rug
Doctor; Just Rick; Just Gary; NFHN Richard; Prom Queen; NFHN Alison;
Semper Felonious; Seven Seconds; Chair Banger; Narcoleptic Noodle;
NFHN Matt; Pole Dancer; Open Leg Rock Her (now Butt Sex Is Available).

A large pack of screw-ups and illegal immigrants seeking asylum met
behind a decrepit white building off of Main Street to start the Daily
Newd (Surprise) Birthday Hash on an unusually hot winter Sunday
afternoon.

Daily Newd didn’t know it was his birthday, didn’t know he was
attending a hash, didn’t even know he was in Greenville, but luckily
Lady Long Legs was able to set him straight long enough to get his
presents, which was about 10 cases of mismatched beer. He was so
thankful – especially for the quilt hat he was gifted with and ordered
to wear -- he and Lady Long Legs went running up Broad Street dropping
flour along the way.

The pack sat around drinking Daily Newd’s presents for a while before
someone realized a hash may be going and soon started following the
trail that had a lot of flour spilled everywhere. It only took a few
blocks for them to realize it was big-time false trail.

The pack swung around and soon found a very shiggy trail that ran
parallel to Broad Street and along an old railroad line.

The hares eventually were discovered drinking fermented hops near
Cleveland Park. The harriers bitched about the length of the trail and
the heat, but forgave the hares long enough to drink the amber nectar.

The second leg of the hash was again shiggy as all get out, as the
trail followed a stream bed out of the park and toward I-385. After
some confusion about the true trail, the pack crossed under 385, and
made a sharp left by the County Jail. A serious false trail led some
hashers up a steep hill before the true trail. One hasher, NFHN Adam,
got lost around here. Later reports said there were chants of “fresh
meat, fresh meat” coming from the jail, but Adam went back to his car.

The trail ended at an upscale house on Church Street. Was the UH3
inside? Of course not, we sat and drank in the parking lot while well-
dressed “civilized” folks meandered out of the house, pressing nickels
and quarters into our willing hands, thinking we were either homeless,
or low-rent valets.

The third leg soon started, and this would become one of the ugliest
trails in UH3 history. The trail went down a steep embankment where
many hashers rolled/skidded/ slid down into McPherson Park. The trail
twisted and turned before crossing six lanes of traffic.

The pack got separated around here. Half of the pack went into the
cemetery while the rest followed the true trail toward downtown. After
some confusion, the lost pack dragged its way to downtown and toward
the on-in. However, they got stopped cold coming out of a parking
garage. They thought they saw an arrow pointing backward and went
looking behind them. They soon realized it was actually just a regular
chalk mark.

They soon found the final beer stop in a parking garage. After some
grousing, a Circle was formed. However, it was formed in the middle of
traffic so it had to be moved.

Narcoleptic Noodle was introduced as the GM in waiting. The hares were
lambasted for their shitty trails. Virgins Ashlee, Alison, Gary, Rick
and Karolina (actually, No Cocky Bukkake ably subbed in for the
decidedly distraught Karolina who thought the circle was some sort of
bizarre part of the immigration process reserved for the Poland-born)
were serenaded for their newness. People did down-downs for various
crimes such as using the r-word. And Open Leg Rock Her made a terrible
faux pas. More on that in a minute.

NFHN Dave decided to take the plunge and get named. He has been with
us since September and did some famed hashes such as the Green Dress,
the Red Dress and um…he likes wearing dresses doesn’t he?

A urologist by trade, Dave came from West Palm Beach, went to
Vanderbilt and University of South Florida for college, lives in
Anderson, and spent 13 years in Catholic Schools where his favorite
nun was Sister Andrew Irene. He waxed poetically on Andrew Irene’s
sweet smelling perfumes, lovely smile, high heels and pert ears, but
said he didn’t have a crush or anything. No. Huh-uh.

Names ranged from the ubiquitous Butt Sex to Nun Better to Cum On
Irene to Cock Doc to Doctor Cock before Cock Doc won out on the closet
of votes.

However, Open Leg Rock Her got nailed during this naming process as
well for stating “Butt Sex is always available.” She was almost
immediately renamed “Butt Sex Is Available” for her efforts and
stupidity.

The Circle was then dissolved amid much rejoicing.

Super Secret Hash

Hash No. 65

Hares: None

Harriers: Daily Newd, Narcoleptic Noodle, Pole Dancer, Seven Seconds,
Piss Tumble, Titty Gang Bang, Open Leg Rock Her, Just Richard and Just
Amy

Oh, what a hash this one turned out to be, but somehow a mix of no
true hares and a lot of canned goods made for a good event.

A highly speculative hash from the beginning as hares kept
disappearing in the days leading to the event, mismanagement decided
to hold a pick-up hash as opposed to a regular event.

A pick-up simply brings the pack to a spot, they draw lots, and the
loser..er winner…becomes the hare. The hare then switches after each
beer stop. Confused?

Well, nine people showed for the Super Secret Hash that started at
parking lot next to Rocks and Ropes in the West End. After milling
about for 30 minutes, it was decided to start the show. Seven Seconds
drew the first leg.

Knowing that he was making up where he was going on the fly, the pack
gave him a good 10-minute head starts before leaving. The pack
followed the trail down some railroad tracks near the new baseball
stadium and across Academy Street, but not before stopping for some
hash trash on the side of the road. Namely, they found government-
issued cans of vegetables.

Armed with supplies, the pack followed the trail through Falls Park,
up to Main Street and past the Peace Center where Seven Seconds laid a
trap. Hundreds of little children (possibly Seven Seconds’ demon
spawn) flooded the streets and covered the trail with their damnable
feet.

The trail was found and led off into some side streets, back to Main
and into Sharkey’s for stop number one.

After hanging out a few minutes and debating whether to run some more,
Pole Dancer took the lead for the second leg. He got out of his chair
and walked across the street into Mast General.

Pole Dancer told two clerks to tell the pack he went out the back
door, and then began laying trail. Meanwhile, the pack gave an
unusually long lead time because their server at Sharkey’s couldn’t
figure out their bill.

They eventually left the bar and entered Mast General where the clerks
mocked them for being so late. The pack followed a trail away from
downtown going through parking lots and yards before going through a
church yard.

They battled boob checks and some false trails before making a curve
back into downtown. Meanwhile, Pole Dancer was sitting in Barley’s
wondering where the hell the pack had vanished too.

He got tired of waiting and went to take a leak. The pack arrived at
that time. And there was much rejoicing. Daily Newd made an offering
of canned corn and potatoes to the Barley’s staff who promptly placed
the foodstuffs above the bar.

Piss Tumble and TTGB volunteered for the third leg and left.

After a 10-minute head start, the pack followed the trail down an
alley and into Bergamo Plaza where it promptly got lost. The trail was
refound and twisted and turned into the Downtown Hyatt and toward
Spring Street. Somewhere along the way Daily Newd found a three-pound
can of green beans and a bag of black-eyed peas.

The pack did well here, but got lost again when the reach Court Street
Square. No one was sure if the marks were new or left over from Seven
Seconds.

After some confusion, the pack went to TTGB’s and asked her landlord
if she had been by. He said no and the pack stood there for a few
minutes scratching themselves and passersby when Piss Tumble drove up
to say they were at the Mellow Mushroom.

The pack headed there and the on-in/after party occurred.

Valentines Day Red Dress Hash

Hash Trash No. 64

Hares: Seven Seconds and Open Leg Rock Her

Harriers: Daily Newd, Rug Doctor, Pole Dancer, Titty Titty Gang Bang,
No Cocky Bukakke, TMI, Prom Queen, Chair Banger, NFHN Jarret, NFHN
Mahalia, Just Reed, Just Andrew, Just Dave,

The Upstate Hash House Harriers pulled on some red dresses on a sunny
Greenville afternoon to hold one of hashings most sacred events.

Seven Seconds and Open Leg Rock Her cajoled a larger than normal group
of hashers to the top of Richardson Street Parking Garage to start the
ordeal. Leaving a half hour later per tradition, they made their way
down Richardson Street and were out of sight.

The pack eventually went to look for the hares, and quickly got lost.
I mean real lost. A pack has never been confused like this one. While
the true ran in a sorta straight line down Richardson Street the pack
went left into a church, then right into a parking garage, then turned
around to go back the way they came.

Eventually someone found the true trail into another church parking
lot, but again the pack got lost. After more searching, cursing and
general anger, they found the trail that led through a Bi-Lo parking
lot and into McPherson Park.

Confused as anything by this time, the pack wandered through the park
until someone noticed some powder on a drainage ditch. Seven Seconds
and Open Leg Rock Her had found a sewage tunnel underneath Academy (a
first for subterranean hashing/beer stoppage) for beer stop No. 1.

After much bitching about the trail and drinking, the hares left
again. The pack left soon afterward, and per tradition again got lost
trying to find the trail. Thankfully, someone hopped a fence into a
cemetery and found the trail. Unthankfully, there was a funeral in
progress.

The trail led from the cemetery through the Bi-Lo Center parking lot,
across East North Street and into a parking garage on West Washington
Street for the second beer stop.

The hares split at this time so OLR could drive a car to the next beer
stop, and Seven Seconds started the trail by cutting through some
under-demolition apartments (still going with the homeless abode
theme). The pack hobbled out a little later and soon followed a trail
through some major shaggy (including treacherous downhill sections),
and then toward the West End. After some nice directional changes, the
pack crossed the Liberty Bridge (ruining many a family photo
opportunity) and into the West End where they found the hares behind
the infamous Chicora Alley…a bar that is now on the banned list due to
Daily Newd’s antics at the previous O-limpik Mile.

Post Traumatic Stress spread through the pack as visions were relived
of the beer mile, which took place right at this beer stop. To sooth
nerves, and arouse others, OLR semi-successfully demonstrated her Hula-
Hoop form with a HH that was found on trail. After a quick stop, the
hares took off one last time for the final leg. Down Academy, Up McBee
and a wandering jog along Main Street found bystanders cheering, “Yall
are hashers aren’t Yaw?” Up the elevator to floor No. 7 the pack
finally found the hares with a circle prepared and beers and wine to
drink. It wouldn’t have been a hash without a couple crimes, a couple
“If one hare drinks . . all hares drink” and of course the obligatory
Red Dress Fashion show who I believe was won by the Gay Nome – TMI.

Pre-Super Bowl Hash

Hash No. 63

Hares: Lady Long Legs, NFHN Tanya (Open Leg Rock Her) and Just Hillary
(Once Bitten, Twice Shy)

Harriers: Daily Newd, Bust Her Hymen, Narcoleptic Noodle, TMI, Rug
Doctor, Pole Dancer, NFHN Jason, NFHN Jarret, NFHN Jason C., Just
Warren, Just Sarah, Just Amber, Just Mahalia, Just Renee, Just Carol,
Just Bubba, Just Ritchey

For reasons known only to the hares, the UHHH decided to live up
its name as Upstate and venture in Spartanburg for a late January
Hash.

Harriers were asked to wear something with an NFL logo on it.
Somehow only one real team was represented, the Pittsburgh Steelers
and other people wore shirts with Panthers, Lions, Bears Redskins, Ron
Mexico, Atlanta Braves, Sports Illustrated, Ohio State and Beat
Michigan on them.

Despite that poor showing of apparel, the hash started a half-hour
late. Lady Long Leg made up some crap about the hash marks, which
included a "football mark." Upon finding the crude football looking
thing, hares were told to hand off a rather worn football (see Hash
Trash no. 63) until all the hares got through.

The hares then departed while the harriers feasted on Old
Milwaukee and Pabst Blue Ribbon to their hearts content and gave the
hares a 10-minute head start. The pack started on a main road, and
quickly took a left and went really, really, really far.

And then the pack turned right. And it went really, really, really
far.

And then it went right again. And went really, really, really far
until we got to the beer stop. Along the way, the hares had left about
a dozen boob checks and football marks, which really slow the pack
down when they're running really, really far.

The hares left again clandestinely and the pack slowly walked a
nice forest trail to see where they went. There was fear they had
crossed a polluted looking stream, but no the hares just went really,
really, really far and turned left.

The trail led up a main road to a large intersection where the
pack couldn't seem to find the trail. Some of the harriers decided the
trail was too far and followed a false trail through some shiggy and
to the on-in.

The rest of the pack followed a long loop before finding the on-in
at Just Jason's house, who quickly tried to sell harriers a large
collection of late-model Buicks, and the house itself.

Since there was no beer, people sat around and groused about the
hares and waited for the beer to arrive and form circle. Daily Newd
consecrated the circle and soon down-downs began.

The hares were given poor grades for their trail, several hashers
were forced to drink for wearing hats in the circle, the virgins
( Just Warren, Just Carol, Just Bubba, Just Renee, Just Sarah, Just
Amber and Just Mahalia) drank, TMI drank for spilling beer, and
Narcoleptic Noodle for being the FRB.

And then we had two namings.

NFHN Tanya went first. A native of Omaha (that's in Nebraska) who
first had sex in Clearwater, and teaches a Clemson Leisure Studies
class on pilates, gave a lot of great information and stories, which
was a truly bad idea on her part, but helped the naming committee
greatly.

She revealed that she has the longest name on earth and it
includes three or four first names, a few last names picked up in
various failed marriages and one name she found in a sale bin at Wal-
Mart. She told an amusing tale about falling into a Koi pond during a
party, which led to an impromptu wet T-shirt party for herself and
also told about her long career playing piano and singing. She also
added her favorite pilates position was the open leg rocker, which she
refused to demonstrate. Names suggested included Open Leg Party, Open
Leg Wet Party, Open Leg Tickler, Butt Sex, She's a Mouthful, but
finally we chose the somewhat kind Open Leg Rock her.

Just Hilary was a little bit different story. Oh, she gave some
great stories about falling, tripping, colliding, smashing and
dropping almost everything known to man. She talked about "not doing
anything" during a stint in a Tennessee college. A propensity to gab,
she talked about drinking and brushes with the law. The pack thought
we had enough to name her until TMI brought up a story from Hilary's
past involving a wayward spider, a bathing suit, and openings in
people's body parts.

This led to a small list of names including Dazed and Confused,
G.D., will you shut up, but a quick consensus came to "Once Bitten,
Twice Shy."

This led to a minor debate of what ’80s rock band sang that song.
Motley Crue, Def Lepperd, White Tiger and Great White were all
mentioned as possibles. Go to the "Inter Web" site
www.cnn.com/2003/US/Northeast/02/21/deadly.nightclub.fire/ for more
information.

The circle was broken and in UHHH tradition, the pack went to a
Mexican restaurant for the after party. The restaurant owner
apologized to the pack saying that since it was Sunday he didn't serve
beer. The pack sighed and turned to go away when the owner replied, "I
do serve tequila," and there was much rejoicing, jubilation and
drinking of copious amounts of margaritas.

MLK Jr. Day Memoral Hash

Hash No. 62

Hares: Rug Renovator ( Rug Doctor) and Peggy Pullanasti ( Pole Dancer)
Beer truck driver: Just Matt

Start: Sirrine Stadium at 2:30

Harriers: Daily Newd, Lady Longlegs, TMI, Narcolepetic Noodle, Seven
Seconds, That Would be the Butt Bob, Semper Felonius, Chair Banger,
Busta Hymen, Butt Sex (titty titty gang bang) NFHN Carl, NFHN Tanya,
HFHN Ray (No Cocky Bukkake), NFHN Dave, NFHN Rebecca, NFHN Geu, Just
Greg M., Just Lynn, Just Kathy, Just Adam, Just Reed, Just Tess

Aahh, the joys of modern Greenville. The same year the county
decides to pay employees for not working an MLK Holiday, the UHHH
offered up its own tribute. We will let you decide who did better.
The hares, Rug Renovator and Peggy Pullanasti, gathered a
larger than usual band of deviants, druggies, drunks and dope fiends
at Sirrine Stadium near downtown Greenville. The hares got worried as
more and more harriers arrived. This was much more than planned.
A half hour later, per tradition, the Hares told the pack about
the trail and what to expect. They mentioned a side reference that
area was picked because of its significance to MLK history. Jesse
Jackson was born on nearby Haynie Street before moving cross town to
the projects named
after him.
The pack couldn't care less.
So the hares, took off and laid a trail up a long hill, down a
slightly shiggy area that was once apartments, over a river, under a
six-lane road, up a flight of stairs and finally to a hotel under
renovation into apartments.
They sat barely a few minutes when the pack rounded the corner
and saw them sitting in the parking lot. There was much rejoicing and
general downgrading of the trail. At least two harriers were missing,
and TMI went looking for them.
Sensing confusion, the hares took off again. Along their way,
they were barked at by dogs, accosted by the local citizenry, and
found the missing harriers going in the wrong direction.
The second stop ended at the Department of Health. The pack
soon came up, looking exhausted and in dire need of malted hops. They
got fortified wine. As the pack played football in the parking lot
with a trash-hash football, the hares took off yet again.
They went back through a neighborhood, told some kids not to
say they came by and slumped into the on-in, an abandoned parking lot.
The pack soon arrived having been aided by the kids, and a circle was
formed. Daily Newd performed an MLK Day miracle by turning the meager
amount of beer and fortified wine left into enough for many many down
downs.
And there were a lot of down-downs.
The hares were mocked for their poor excuse of a trail,
numerous penalties were given including Just Tess for wearing new
shows, Daily Newd and Rug Renovator for wearing a hat in circle, the
five virgins (Just Tess, Just Greg, Just Reed, Just Adam and Just
Kathy), truck driver Matt, and Narcoleptic Noodle for getting engaged,
and 7 Seconds for having a birthday.
And then Daily Newd announced there would be three renamings,
just because they could. Rug
Renovator was renamed Rug Doctor (per his wife's suggestion, and since
he'd been calling himself that anyway), Peggy Pullanasti was redubbed
Pole Dancer (in honor of his Polish heritage and his previous fondness
for skanky strippers, and also, because no one really knew why we
called him
Peggy Pullanasti in the first place), and Butt Sex was redubbed Titty-
Titty Gang-Bang (since we were all tired of hearing how much she hates
butt sex(?) and because she has undergone a
mammalian augmentation).
And somewhere Meatloaf was singing "two out of three ain't
bad." Then there was a final naming. Stalwart hasher NFHN Ray, who had
hashed in Richmond, Pittsburgh and during two pathetic UHHH hashes was
brought before the crowd. He confessed to losing his virginity at age
14, holding a doctorate, being involved in a large drug bust while in
college, passing out in a Golden Griddle in Myrtle Beach, being a
marine, being a professor at Clemson, his favorite farm animal being
the cow, going to Varina High School and having a former professional
tennis playing girlfriend.
Under normal circumstances, that would be enough to name a hasher.
But NFHN Ray talked about a proposed business model he came up
with in the late 1990s for an Internet site: Chicken Bukkake (Thanks
to TMI for proper spelling).
Well, he was dismissed and the pack came up with a laundry list
of names: Professor Bukkake, Dr. Bukkake, Golden Bukkake, Butt Sex,
Rough Sex, Young and Hung, Sake Bukkake, Bovine Bukkake, Bukkake in
your Varina and finally No Cocky Bukkake.
No Cocky Bukkake won out.
Circle was finally closed before anyone perished to hypothermia
and an on-after was held at the Blockhouse on Augusta where Rug
Doctor, Titty-Titty Gang-Bang and No Cocky Bukkake downed shots of
Jaegermeister to honor their names, and Narcoleptic Noodle was toasted
with champagne to honor his coming nuptials.