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.