Peach Fuzz Hash House Harriers

Page Last Updated: Thursday, January 6, 2011

Run #	What the Hell Happened................
719	Run 719 was the Pixel Bonfire and concluded 2010. Hared by Pixel Dick, Can't Talk Gotta Pee, and Poop Chute Recruit at Pixel's abode a rather large group of Hashers roasted there weeners, burgers or steaks, around a hugh bonfire as beer was drunk. No one can really remember trail but everyone considered it awesome. The hares drank for a shitty trail, in protest, as no one was lost on trail and no one was ever without a beer or hungry, and we were all warm. We swang low and onaftered at Pixels.
718	We gathered up at the Cotton Patch for the Anal Christmas Pub Crawl and Bozo was our Hare. Our RA Fist Full Of Fags did a preemptive circle so that early leavers could not avoid it as sometimes happens of late. We celebrated the birthday of a renowned Returner, Hold My Balls, who came all the way from Vegas with his lovely mate, You'all Come In The Back, We also had a bunch of 25, 50, and 100 run awarders and a visitor from Carolina Trash, Indiana Comb Over. Bozo cleverly avoided chalk talk somehow but no one seemed to care. Trail was a redo and led us to the scrap metal heap that is supposed to be art for a shot stop then we proceded to Greenstreets where we sang our traditional Bad Karaoke with a smidgen of Christmas and a token costume contest was held and Butter Queef won as a Freeken Christmas Tree. Dude Where's My Crabs was a loser Bad Santa and his two naughty Elves, Fist Full Of Fags and Blows B ig Balls were losers also. Fags was snared on top of the table twice by that pesky and manly MS Penny. We drank a bunch of beer and moved on to The Playground and continued our drunken debauchery there.
717	We met at the abode of Pixel Dick and Mustbang Sally for our Anal Christmas gathering and merriment. Many brought gifts to exchange in our normal manner of organized chaos. Some regifted and some brought good stuff in a bottle and all were happy. Tippy cup took place and some got naked almost. Pixel did a huge turkey and everyone brought other stuff to complement it and it was all good. Days later evidence of the event was still there. Some on aftered at Tipsys and The Finish line and some forgot thier Christmas spirit. We can't wait for New Years.
716	Lil Butter Queef led a small pack of thirsty hounds through the North Augusta trails to our first stop. It was so cold, ice was falling from the sky, but waiting for the pack at the stop was cold beer and a warm fire. Reluctant to leave the warmth of the fire for the ice of the streets, the pack headed out where we found another stop not too far away where we had a suprise visit from the Foreskin King before heading back to the start for a quick circle and a quest for more warmth.
715	Cum Nugget & NN Kelsey led the pack of thirsty hounds from the Backyard Tavern. It was even colder than last week. We wound through asphalt trails to the first beer stop. It was still pretty cold. Hares were away back through the asphalt jungle where they lost the pack just before the second stop, but it was so close to the start, the pack zenned back to the beer truck to wait on the hares. NN Kelsey was named CUnT - Craps Underneath Trees for her nature call near the second stop. We on-aftered at the Backyard Tavern, and some went to the warmth of their abodes. Record cold temps were felt by all.
714	The Peach Fuzz Canal Trail & Waterfall area is clean. Seven wankers met to conquer the feat and celebrated with beer and hotdogs. We took out over a hundred pounds of bottles from one of our most beloved hashing areas as well as lots of other trash and a soiled and torn red dress on the waterfall - not sure whether is was left over from foul-play or foul "play."
713	This was a Run from the Poop Chute. Need I say more? To hear it from the hare, it could be seen as a postmodern experiment in laying trail in a non-linear fashion. To hear it from the hounds, it was a shitty trail. The only redeeming factor was that there were lots of tittie checks. We started at the brokedown KFC on Columbia Rd. and wandered in circles around the neighborhood til someone found a true trail sign the next street over. Did I mention, it was cold!!! We followed the occasional hashmark and tittie check across the highway and searched around the woods some more for trail. We eventually found the beer stop, chastised the hares and sent them on their way. The second leg was worse than the first, a few wankers bailed on trail, and after a phonecall from the hares, the FRBs found the beerstop and then the hares marked it with a BH so the rest of the pack could join in. We consumed beer and raided the hare's refrigerator before heading back to the start, where the hares were snared. NN Crystal was Co-hare
712	Well,what had happened was we all Peach Fuzz(lost count after fifteen and four shots of American Honey)had gathered at my place.Sometime after two more shots we did chalk talk and had angels sprinkle beer on me and Poopnoodle.Hares away and the shiggy started down through the power lines and across the greenway up the hill to the first beer stop and a cops spotlight!Thank G we out numbered him and he took off.Cold brew and many stickers bushes were to be found and all was good.In fear of back-up returnin hares away to lay many a T I T T Y check and down to the river we lead them.CAUTION ! beer here.As we tire of the road quickly we decided to head (HEAD! WHO SAID HEAD? I'LL TAKE SOME OF THAT!) back to the shiggy and shiggy it was.To the dismay of Little bang cock we lead the hounds up the hill and down the cliff .Little did anyone know that P-Nizz damn near fell off the edge when she tripped on her foot!.Fightin the pain she made it to the last beer stop.As she gathered her wits and fought back the tears (she is a girl) hashers started to show up.Many beers were drank and stories told as we snuck off to finish trail.So far so good,back up the hill and through the hood to the house we went.Unbelievable but true,everyone followed our trail back to circle were Bore whore received FRB and Cum Nugs got brides maid then good ole Pixil got DFL.Swung low and roasted wieners and drank more beer for the on-after.All and all an AWESOME trail. ON-ON Peach Fuzz! I almost forgot!The best little Indian goes to Damsel and Pixil had the coolest Pilgrim Hat in town.Then there was the awe inspirin Beeramid at the second stop,which didn't last very long unlike the memories Mustbang's son will carry with him from seein his Mommies titties so many times on trail that night!Oh,and My wieners wet got hammered some how!?!?! THE DUDE ABIDES
711	We met at the abode of No Name Debbie to celebrate Hashgiving and we feasted and drank and feasted and drank. And it was good. then Can't Talk and No Name Debbie laid a trail to her neighbors and then more trail to more neighbors And back to her abode where Dildo Mcbaggin was FRB. Bladder Splatter was the Bride and a visitor from Columbia, Butt Nut, was DFL. We even had a visitor from Uganda, Pussy and her sister No Name maud. There is probably more to Pussy's name than was told. Anyway at circle No Name Debbie was named, Stuff My Pussy as it was a name that seemed to belong and we swang low and ate and drank some more. And we were all thankfull to Stuff My Pussy for sharing her abode..
710	Bladder Splatter and Cum Nugget laid trail near the Partridge Inn. It was a long trail riddled with stretches of asphalt. We followed trail through neighborhoods on the hill to Helga's for a thirst-quenching beerstop. Back down the hill through the neighborhoods to Teresa's for beer and chips & salsa. Back up the hill to an unfulfilled stop at the gay club and up up up the hill to the last stop, a jager stop outside the mental ward section of the Bon-Air where we were cheered by cops. We headed back to the start where circle ensued and all the beer and jager was consumed in a most debaucherous fashion. None of our cars were vandalized while we were on trail, which is a blessing.
709	We celebrated Veterans Day and the birth of the Marines in one run hared once again by Baglady and First Sergeant Puppycakes. We started at the Cotton Patch and new symbols dedicated to the military were added at chalk talk. Consistent with the physical torture program they started last week a push up stop was added along with a grab ass symbol that kinda coincided with the Don't Talk Don't Tell symbol. The only thing missing was a Cluster Fuck symbol. Another consistency with last weeks run was the considerable distance we had to go to find our 1st beer. We did find it eventually at Greenstreets and we sang bad kareoke again wearing our camos and military garb. This time Fist Full Of Fags did not get reprimanded by the manly Ms Penny for fear of an article 15 or worse yet, subjection to Don't Ask Don't Tell. After leaving Greenstreets an easy t! rail led one hasher to the next beer stop where he drank plenty of beer with the hares. The rest of the hounds somehow ran amuck on trail and almost compromised the mission before finally arriving a long time latter at the Playground where the real Hashers did their 10 push ups, same as Can't Talk, before drinking there beer. Due to the logistical problems exhibited by the Hounds on the 2nd leg First Sergeant Puppycakes took command and aborted the last beer stop and led the Hash back to where we started. And here circle took place.
708	We've been there, done that, and it was fun.We had about 11 + Hashbrown show up for the 3rd Anal No Name Kay Homeless Kilt Walk at the Green Streets Presbyterian and most were in Red or Kilts or both. Hared by Can't Talk, Pixel Dick and Spank My Spud we were obviously a sight to see as many marveled at our grandeur. Spud of course was looked upon with womanly envy. Trail was blessed by one of the Lay People and we ventured out with our Tour Guide who eagerly explained the plight of the homeless on the journey that remined us of the last trail we did as it seemed endless. After alluding our tour guide we made it to the end at the Riverfront Pub where we drank and ate and even Volunteer Queer showed up.
707	Run 707, hared by Puppy Cakes and Baglady started and ended at the Highlander. Puppy and the Bag sporting there leaner and meaner profiles must have felt the Hash needed a bit of exercise as the 1st leg seemed very very long. It did lead to cold beer on the Greenway but only after a through tour of North Augusta. Many a good beer stop was passed by as the hounds franticly searched for beer. Probably out of guilt the Hares made the next trail much shorter and after a little shiggy we found beer in the middle of it. Next leg also seemed long as we were a long long ways away from where we started only we didn't quite get there. Since the hares stashed more beer under a bridge at Ga Ave we became bridge trolls until it was gone. Back at the Highlander circle was done and NN Noel was named Boring While Whoring.
706	The Anal Hashoweeny Party was hosted by Rub Me Tender at his abode but the Silly Rat was missing. Just about everyone showed up in costume but the RA was best as the Catholic Priest with the little boy straped to his penis. Bozo was Fire Marshel again and was almost as competant as Can't Talk. Half a can of lighter fluid and wallaw a toasty fire. Much debauchery was done and Amazon .cum may have won that prize. No virginity was lost as no one there had any to lose. No one can remember when it ended but all apprectiated Wub Me Tender For Hosting.
705	Once again the Peach Fuzz celebrated the Anal Red Dress Run. This was the 10th and it was almost as good as the 1st. Hared by Bozo Where Art Thou and NN Noel we gathered at the Cotton Patch with only one lame hasher out of 30 not wearing a Red Dress. It was a magnificent site to behold as we were decked out in our finest red. Some were Sexy, Many were Not, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder and no one really gave a shit. Volunteer Queer even showed up in his electric chair and did the whole trail. After a short blessing from our RA, Fistful of Fags, the hares led us to Joe's Underground where the debauchery began and the drinking continued. From there, trail led to the Playground and many package and Titty checks were experienced on the way. One alarmed female hasher was heard yelling "Oh No! I just saw Can't Talk's Penis" so be careful what you ask for. The Playground was ours for the taking and much cold beer was consumed. After that many more package and Titty checks led us to Greensteets where Can't Talk and Pixel Dick started the bad Karaoke and many more followed. Fags dig the stool thing on stage and was disciplined by the manly Ms. Penny once again. We headed back to the start having drained all the pitchers with Puppy Cakes in the lead dressed as an aesthetically challenged cheer leader and accomponied by the lovely Baglady. FRB was Lil Butter Queef, Bridesmaid was Bloody Stool, and the DFL was Volunteer Queer. Circle was cut short by an astounded occifer (cop), so we Swang Low very quickly and on-aftered at Joe's.
704	Rule # 1: Never do a Bash and a canal clean up on the same day. Only the hare ,Cover Girl and 3 hashers, Dude Where's My Crabs, ATM, and Can't Talk Gotta Pee showed up for this event. Cover Girl laid trail down the Greenway and we did it anyway. Only one beer and some wa wa was consumed and we ended at Bozos where we started. Cover Girl won all the awards and then Bozo grilled some burgers.
703	Another Can't Talk trail started at the Rock pile near Car Max with a huge contingency beginning and a small band of wet weenies ending. It should have been easy trail but the focus seemed more on draining the keg at the start than on following trail to beer so the Hare, Can't Talk, was alone on trail for a long long time. There were 2 tunnels times 2 equal 4. Some got there nut sack wet. We blew by the 3rd beer stop as it was late and Cum Nugget was FRB. Bloddy Stoll and Notta Spitter held hands as Bridesmaids and Dildo McBaggin was DFL. The RA, Bladder Slatter conducted circle and we drank for our sins, Swung low and went to the Finish Line for on after.
702	Little was accomplished at this mismanagement meeting, but there was a trail laid by Bozo and where we finished off the last leftover keg from GA/FL and had some Shepherd's pie at the Highlander.
701	Most of the Wankers elft alive gathered together next to the pool, shed our tears, gathered hugs, and a few reacharounds, then we swang low to end a kick-ass weekend.
700	U had to be there - 6.1 miles, half of it shiggy, the other half, smooth stretches into the beer. Hared by Bloody Stool and Chicken Fried Butt Sex, there was everything on this trail - about 50 wankers following trail across railroad tracks, swampy ground and creeks, steep hills, titties and beer, alligators and golfers, bridges and basements, rivers and concrete and more titties and beer. FRB was Big Wet Wuss, Bridesmaid was Amazon.cum, and DFL was Betty Orgazmatron.
699	To begin the Ga/Fl weekend we started with a Pub Crawl from the Budget Inn, which was also ground zero for the festivities. Hared by Can't Talk Gotta Pee and his lovely assistant Red we began our journey to the Playground After being blessed by the RA, Fist Full Of Fags. Dressed as a 70's disco man whore, Can't Talk was followed by a large crowd of 70's Disco & porn fans from all parts of the Southeast. Many enjoyed the numerous tiity checks on the way. At the Playground Choice of a New Penetration made sure everyone was carded just for for the fun of it. Choice of a New Asshole might be a good rename. Out side of some public spanking the crowd was somewhat mild. But on to Green Streets where some table dancing was attempted by Fist Full Of Fags. Everyone was appreciative when the DJ made him stop. Little Bang Cock took over the mike like he was suppose to be dicktating activities and then sang some bad karaoke to no ones surprise. Many a pitcher of beer was drank and many a bad karaoke was sang. Next was the Firehouse and more beer. After the Fire House trail lead to Joe's Underground were the cluster expected on the last trail actually came to pass. Since the door guy hadn't gotten word to wave the cover for the hash things ran a muck until Bozo Where Art Thou arrived to save the day. Some stayed, and some followed trail to the Disco Tech and totally naked women and some searched for food. Most everyone found there way to the end before morning.
698	Run 698 hared by Dead Peter Beater and Poop Chute Recruit was noting like the cluster fuck everyone expected. Even though it started late it actually led us to beer with a trail we could follow. It was suppose to be a Rainbow Run and a few wore rainbow garb. We started at Batteries Plus with what seemed a shitload of virgins but when we ended we only had two. We found beer behind Ashleys furn in some shiggy and then we made our way across Walton Way Ext to a nest of yellow jackets that were not informed by the hares that they don't attach at night. Some were stung but the beer helped ease the pain somewhat. We then proceeded to Ally Cats and were rewarded again with more golden nectar. The end was just across the street and circle was conducted by Bladder Splatter who wore only a Rainbow decorated penis protector. As this was just a minor distraction no one can remember much about circle. We did introduce two virgins and made award winners drink and all were glad to swing low.
697	Run 697 was a hashers run, no poofters allowed. Titties and beer, just the way we like it. Two dozen wankers gathered at Teresa's back-end for a drizzly run. Somehow only about 16 were at the first beer stop. Something about Teresa's seduction. It was a fulfilling stop, graced by virgin titties and golden nectar. The next stop, down the woods and through the shiggy, was not unlike the first - which was a good thing...then we crossed a fence and made our way around the curve of death and back to the start for a circle before the yummy seduction of Teresa's fajitas (that's what they're calling them these days!) There were 3 virgins, 2 of them bearing new (to the hash) titties!, the same 2 of them tied for DFL, NNNoel was FRB, and Driving Miss Blowback was Bridesmaid. We made the virgins and hares drink, we swang low, and on-aftered at Teresa's.
696	A pack of thirty-two thirsty hounds gathered at the Highlander to chase down Jane Doe the Fro Ho and her cohare NNChris and consume the golden nectar along trail. Eight virgins had their hashing cherry popped as the RA blessed the hares and sent them to do their bidding. Over the hills and far away, down the path, back and forth, we finally found the first beer stop in a shiggy patch between here and there. After the hounds quenched their thirst, trail wound through the neighborhood and around a lake and into the woods for another taste of the frothy nectar. We climbed out of the shiggy and foraged our way back across town to the Highlander to circle up and punish the hares for such a shitty run. NNChris was named Dildo McBaggins for his hobbit-like sexual prowess at a far-away McDonald's parking lot. We swang low and on-aftered at the Highlander (since we were already there).
695	We opened the Football season with run 695 with, you guessed it, Football as the theme. Chicken Fried Butt Sex was the hare and he took us on somewhat of a pub crawl starting at the Cotton Patch. Somewhat means we actually did some trail before pub crawling. It was a crowd of about 35 including some virgins, Colonel Broke back brought his future bride, No Name Amanda, and Can't Talk brought a Pizza Joint recruit, No Name Brenda who made the statement she was a Cock Collector, Game Coaks of course and also some returners, Volunteer Queer was sporting a wheel chair, nothing stops a true hasher, and also returning was Puppy Cakes and Baglady and the Toe family, Camel Toe and My Weeners wet and of course the Colonel and Dicks Are For Chicks You Silly Rat brought his sexy Mom, Lilly and Wub Me Tender. Some were wearing football attire but nary a cheer leader was present. Bummer. We did circle at the start conduc! ted by Bozo who right in the middle forgot he was doing circle. Then chalk talk and hares away. After doing the canal we finally arrived at Greenstreets where we were rewarded with beer and yes, some bad karaoke. Poop Chute recruit started this Travesty of bad talent followed by Can't Talk and then Little Bang Cock and maybe more. Little Bang Cock was held blameless as he was toting the Queer, wheel chair and all. We then headed to Joe's Underground Where the Queer somehow did the stairs with the wheelchair. We drank more beer and finally disbanded.
694	A small band of thirsty hashers gathered at the canal behind the dog pound for run 694. Hared by, Dude Where's My Crabs and Poop Noodle we anticipated much cold beer on trail but little did we know that we would travel miles to find it. Our RA sometime known as Coach Weed blessed our run and sent the hares on their way. Blessed by the return of our beloved hasher, Bladder Splatter, from parts unknown, we hounds followed thinking beer was just around the corner but we were wrong. After much shiggy and steep ditches we finally got to the River where we were forced to wet our feet before we could wet our thirst. The beer was cold and plentiful as was the water. Soon we abandoned our island in search of trail again but none was to be found. The smart hashers, after a fruitless search for trail, decided to Zen in the general direction of the end with the hope of maybe picking up trail on the way. Our plan worked as we did find the end along with beer. Unfortunately not all the hashers were so smart and were thus lost on trail. We waited for what seemed a long time, then came the FRB, Dead Peter Beater, and Bridesmaid, Little Bang Cock. The hares straggled in, lost and weary of their own madness, leaving 5 other lost and weary wankers to brave to wiles of the shiggy filled trail.
693	Mismanagement Meeting at the Highlander was unusually productive. We did some hare-raising, hell-raising, beer drinking, and tried to predict the future...details are posted elsewhere on this site.
692	Run 692 was the 1st Bash of the Peach Fuzz Hash. It was long in cuming but Cover Girl, the hare, finnally made it happen. Those with bikes came and there were 12. Fistful Of Fags proved you don't have to have a big one to have the biggest bike as he was riding the big 29. Cover Girl brought a virgin, No Name Caleb. We gathered at the new pavilion parking lot with some in Spandex but most were not. We zenned to the 1st H2O at the head of the canal and then the journey south to the Grassey Knoll where we frolicked in the water and did a lame woodsy ride and some jumped ship to search for food. Chicken was multi tasking as he brought his GPS searching for booty. After a group photo op, we procedded to the water fall area at Raes Creek and frolicked again in the wa wa. Having found no beer on trail those with a beer thirst headed back to the start, where after an arduous ride, we were rewarded with the frothy nectar. NN Caleb was FRB, Hershey Highway was Bridesmaid, and Jane Doe the Fro Ho was DFL. We were snockered, so wehad unusually tame circle at the amusement of local tourists, we swang low, and on-aftered in different places. See the pic.
691	Back2Screwl Pubcrawl - Cum and Gone - August 25, 2010 - Nobody remembers what the hell happened... From the GM: Fistful of Fags (aka Coach Weed) led the pack through some lunges to get our hearts racing , some toe touches for the harriettes to get our blood pumping, and then we were off - after the first shot stop, everything became a blurrr of plaid skirts, cleavage, beer, and chalk. No hash pubcrawl is complete without a backalley beerstop, a dip down into Joe's Underground, or a trip to the Playground, which we did and where debauchery was had by all, but not necessarily in that order. Hershey Highway was FRB, the hares were DFL, and the rest of the pack were all Bridesmaids, except for Little Bangcock, who came in second and third, but not necessarily in that order. We circled, named NN Cindy "Show Me" (because if she hears it enough, she eventually will), we swang low and on-aftered at the Playground From the Scribe: Many a slutty school girl gathered at the Cotton Patch for the anal back to school run. Some were hairier than others and only a few were pretty. Fist Full Of Fags showed up as the school coach every parent should fear, Coach Weed, and Driving Miss Blow Back was the crossing guard. Dead Peter Beater hared this event and no name Cindy cohared. We followed a lame trail to some mixture designed for the indiscriminate drinkers not far from the start and then the blue chalk, a brilliant choice at night, to the next stop but I can't remember where or anything there after. From the Hare:The Back2Screwl run, was by far the most oddest thus far that I've hared. A parking lot full of folks, which more then half I had know clue who they were. About 1/4 of the hounds were dressed up, and the guys looked way better then the girls (like it or not). With a few exceptions. No name Cindy and I took off-to the other end of the parking lot, and a turtle check infront of all who was eating outside. Trail lead byhind the portapottys and back to the start for a mixture of vodka,beer, & punch shots. MMMMMmmmm GOOD! Next stop-outdoor beer, over broad and thru the allies, which was nice and cold and plentiful. The homeless woman was back again while we were there, going thru the garbages and thanx to our GM blessing this trail, she didn't find our stash! Stop 3 was Joes underground-beer and more beer. Of course SHOTS-after all, thats why people choose Joes... Stop 4 -The Playground, as tradition they love our B2S run. Can't remember how many pitchers were bought, but all the hash money was spent there. Then back to the cotton patch, people got accused, blamed, shitty trail and a naming. Which WTF is No-name Cindys name? She called me and asked her name??? Since her name wasn't in hash tradition, that 3 guys made the chioce w/o anyones imput on what shes done, ate, sounds like, etc... We (a few of us) believe that her name should be agreed and talked about with the whole group-not just 3 individuals..??? The on after was back to the Playground-which we know, theres no food-but theres karoke and Big Troy!!!! It suked and we swung and thats my story. That was Thud And Dances last trip to the circle w/ the PeachFuzz, as they're heading out to Arizona. They will be missed, but not forgotten. ON-ON DeadPeterBeater.
690	(To the Brady Bunch theme song)...Theres a story, of some Hashers, who were just looking for some beer, they got to; all the beer stops, and rain,.. and thought they doing ok.--- UNTIL all the hashers, were laughing,.. and drinking; then the blue light special had arrived. There was more then, 4 men,.. who made this group, of police much more then we could blow. Then we dispersed,.. we thought we were good!-yet-then there were 5 cop cars, and tweleve p o l i c e. we went back to bi-lo, all the police had passed. At circle, we swang low, as we watched the blue lights- once again, twas the quickest , lovely circle, in hash history.... and there was jell-o shots where the po-po came. Thats how I remember it.
689	We met behind the Evans Kroger for another Chicken Run and we got what we expected. A long long trail with plenty of shiggy and some wa wa. Chicken Fried Butt Sex, the hare, led us to shiggy behind Lowes where some blood was shed by several and then the road march to cold beer stashed atop a hill overlooking a gator pond. Next we began the long journey down the train tracks after much searching for trail which was poorly marked with chalk as no one actually saw the hare leave. Most made it through the tunnel under the tracks to find beer on the other side but a few late cummers slide down the embankment as they were to thirsty to do the tunnel. We did more shiggy as we started out to find the 3rd beer stop as we headed back in the direction of the start and found beer in what may have been an old deserted farm. From here we returned to the start with barely the energy to do cir! cle. Our RA Fist Full Of Fags conducted circle and 2 virgins were introduced as was a visitor from Australia, Double D. Despicable Drinker or something like that. Bloody Stool was FRB. That's all I remember and we swung low. Addendum: I can't believe that you don't remember touching my ASS, ass did everyone else in the circle! Some harder then others, and a little ass kissin' too. Why? It was (my)DeadPeterBeaters 200th run-gezzzz. It was my first time Can't Talk-we shared a moment! Golly Dang man!!! The on after was pizza joint where a few of us who didn't get near enough to drink hashing(only cuz it was 3 miles between each beer stop &natural light/keystone light).got FOOD & drinks as the service was shitty, cuz -another first- we sat at a table inside! The greeter chic,asked if we were with the soccer team. I said "No-we are with a bunch of sweaty,smelly, people that their clothes don't match". She then pointed to a table all the way by the bathrooms and said that they were over there. Other then that, it was a very shitty trail. Rewrite: We met behind the Evans Kroger for another Chicken Run and we got what we expected. A long long trail with plenty of shiggy and some wa wa. Chicken Fried Butt Sex, the hare, led us to shiggy behind Lowes where some blood was shed by several and then the road march to cold beer stashed atop a hill overlooking a gator pond. Next we began the long journey down the train tracks after much searching for trail which was poorly marked with chalk as no one actually saw the hare leave. Most made it through the tunnel under the tracks to find beer on the other side but a few late cummers slide down the embankment as they were to thirsty to do the tunnel. We did more shiggy as we started out to find the 3rd beer stop as we headed back in the direction of the start and found beer in what may have been an old deserted farm. From here we returned to the start with barely the energy to do circ le. Our RA Fist Full Of Fags conducted circle and 2 virgins were introduced as was a visitor from Australia, Double D. Despicable Drinker or something like that. Bloody Stool was FRB. And not to be forgotten was the spanking of Dead Peterbeater for completing 200 runs. I'm thinking she liked this part of circle most. That's all I remember and we swung low. We onaftered at the Evans Pizza Joint.
688	What should have been a Can't Talk, Dirt Diggler Run became a Can't Talk, Chicken Run. Hared by Can't Talk Gotta Pee and Chicken Fried Butt Sex as the surprise cohare we started from the Food Lion in Evans with a good number of hashers and some late cummers. Trail led to Can't Talks abode for the 1st leg and the hounds were thinking it would be an easy run. Next they were led to the creek near the school where most of the hounds lost the sent of trail but not the wetness of the creek as some chose to swim but Bloody Stool found the beer with ease and watched the floundering hounds with the hares. The hares then led the group to Little Debbies' abode where beer was found again but here things ran amuck as Little Debbie spilled vital zenning info to the hashers and most avoided the Creek trek back to Food LIon. This vial act made the trail less interesting than was planned but it was still long and grueling. We circled at the end at Food Lion and award winners, Cover Girl, FRB, Bloody Stool, Bridesmaid, and Volunteer Queer as DFL all drank with the hares but not for a shitty trail. There were a couple of virgins and they drank also. Luckily Hash Brown showed at the end as he was feared lost and Poop Chute Recruit was lost on trail and did not make it to circle. We swung low right before the Po Po got there and they watched us disperse. We on aftered at the Evans Pizza joint. Addendum: Most hashers missed the undocumented beer stop at Pixel's abode. After Dead Peter Beater unsuccessfully used technology to beg for an auto hash back to circle, Poop Chute Recruit showed up in Pixel's bedroom begging for beer, anal sex and an auto hash back to circle. One or more of those were granted, one or more of those were denied. Eventually co-hare Dirt Diggler showed up to give the sexually frustrated Poop Chute the ride he was begging for.
687	We ventured into the river again for Rash 687. Starting from the Pavilion and ending at Raes Creek as before, Can't Talk and Pixel Dick Hared what could be called a, Why are we here this early, rash. Since this rash was rescheduled to a early hour as to accommodate a Rasher who did not show, namely, Dead Peterbeater. We had a good turnout anyway and she was not missed. There were some virgin hashers as they showed up with flooties and one, Damsel In Distress even had a stick for propulsion. Brilliant. Luckily for all we had high water and we eventually made it to Fantasy Island where we grilled dogs but not Hash Brown who was the only real dog on the rash. We were stalked again by Puppy Cakes but he did not venture on to the Island. Three of the Rash virgins Damsel, Little Bangcock, and Volunteer Queer made the last leg by la! nd as all the Rashers refused to tow them up the creek. The storm got us late and we waited it out under the Parkway bridge which gave the 3 land lubbers time to catch up. We ended without injury or lighting strike at Rae's Creek. We on aftered at Monteray's after they cleared the wreak that blocked the canal road.
686	Toga, Toga, Lighting was the theme of run 686. Hared by Volunteer Queer, Bloody Ass Dick and No Name Amy as a lame bunch of Blues Brothers we gathered at the Queers abode dressed in Togas. Evidently the RA and GM pissed off the rain gods by using chalk talk as a hash tradition forum and we all suffered for it. Right after the 1st beer stop not far up the road in someone's abode those who weren't already wet from Crabs hosing were soon wet from enormas amounts of rain. Only in the great flood was there more rain, lighting and water. Since all trail markings were in the gutter we had but little choice but to head to Queers and beer. There we weathered the storm and the really dedicated stayed for circle, where No Name Red became, I'm The Man, No Name Amy became, Amazon .Cum and No Name Marc became Peewee Hymen.
685	The run number was 365- a run that was announced weds. and thru e-mail. It started on a very muggy hot,Georgia evening that turned out to be even hotter when finished. It started at the Finish Line and a nice small group showed up for the sweat and beer. The Hares were DPB(for support) with NN Amy, and NN Cindy. The girls were very excited to do their first haring and couldn't wait to get the party started. The trail lead to an awesome abandon trailer(with know one living in it!!!)! Hard to believe... The hounds journeyed thru some prickers and shiggy to find beer. B.A.D. was heard going by the window saying he's hoped that wasn't the beer stop. His feelings aside, he knocked on the door and opened it alittle and said 'Hello" anyone in here. Then shut the door and walked away. We stared laughing and had to let everyone know where we were, it was too funny to watch them pass us by. Then the next stop, went across Belair Rd.(6 lanes) and down an embankment- where Volunteer Queer andTitty Nazi refused to go down and drink beer. They stood leaning against the guardrail w/ arms folded-VQ was, and mad b/c he was accused of not following trail so he decided f-us and go back to the bar, and TittyNazi went too. We drank, and relaxed, and drank some more. Then we were off to finish their torturous run. We headed back had our circle-talked about NN Amy and we named her Amazon.cum. Cum because she hates being called amazon, and Damsel let us know she likes to cum. Circle finished all was well, on after was FL and Gag showed up and Dances also did. We did karaoke,ate, & drank. Weds. Amazon.Cums last hash b4 moving and would like to be floured,wet, dirty and abused by the whole gang if you could be so kind and help a girl out. ON-ON DPB.
684	The run should of been called "Heat of the night"! Some like it hot, and it foe sho was hottt,hottt,hottt. It was a lovely run, that actually had people running this time. I think the heat was making everyone delirious and suicidal(or at least hoping for a quick death). The turnout was pretty good, as there was about 40 total. The run was hared by DeadPeterBeater, her 2 sons PeterPoo,&NN Derrek. The trail started from a queers house(he's a volunteer queer), and the straight long highway to hell lead the hounds to a dumpster where there was plenty of beer for everyone.Who can resist a dumpster w/o diving in it- NOT DeadPeter..., she retrieved a wonder old cane that worked well for the virgin to carry, since we had no plungers!!! (PoopNoodle thought it was too dangerous b/c there was a sharp nail at the end and some could get hurt.) Then the hares left-except for one DPB, she allowed the 2 young boys to go off into beer land and leave trail alone. The trail ended up being underground 1/2 the second leg-thru very cool tunnels next to I-20 and Car max. Everyone looked like those cute little Meercats on Discovery Chn. popping up outta the holes! the next stop was a nice swampy marsh that the majority of hounds chose not to get into or just plan past it. Then back, circled like a square/octagon/triangle/-not sure of the shape. There was two names, NN Derrek-"My Military has been policed" a.k.a.MP 69, and NN___ is now Titty Nazi(no-see)? Award winners were alot, but we didn't right it down. NN Amy and DPB (the hare) were DFL. Announced was a Sat. run which was at 7pm. Thats MY story and I'm sticking too it!!!! ON-ON DeAdPeAtErBeATeR.
683	It started and ended at the Cotton Patch and was hared by Cover Girl and cohare Dusty and another cohare. They led us to beer on the levee and the astute hashers found it with ease but most of the others took longer. As with some previous downtown hashes we were lured into thinking this would just be a short and easy pubcrawl but this was heinously not the case. The hare led us all the way across the bride to the Highlander before we could quench our thirst for more beer. It is here that we sang happy birthday to Mo Ho. Since some of the smarter hashers felt they had been punished enough they remained behind to consume beer and wait for a ride back to the start instead of the grueling trek of continuing a long long trail back to the start. At last everyone arrived back at circle some were rested and most were not. Here Bozo did the routine circle stuff and we named No Na me Pit who became Who's Bitch Am I Anyhow. We then swung low and onaftered at Joe's Underground.
682	We did the river again Sunday for Rash 682. We started at the Savannah River Pavilion and started down the river with just 4 hashers. Can't Talk Gotta Pee hared this small bunch with Chicken Fried But Sex, Pixel Dick and Must Gangbang Sally in tow. We had to go around the locked gate to unload but since Bozo was not with us we had no run end with any Po Po. As the water was low it was a slow go which allowed 3 late cummers, Forskin King, The dog and Fecal Handler, to catch up just in time for lunch somewhere near Can't Talks future grave marker. Somehow our dilly dallying prevented our being found by 2 more hashers, Baglady and Puppy Cakes who were stalking us from the grassy knoll. We ended at Raes Creek and shuttled back and it was over.
681	We finally got to gather for the Big Lebowsky Run at the Washington Rd Bowling Ally. Hared by Dude, Where's My Crab's, Fist Full Of Fags and Poop Noodle we met to drink beer and piss on the rug. Only a few were dressed for the occasion as this run was so late we forgot where we hid our costumes. The hares led us behind the bowling ally where the auto hashers should have learned to never leave the keys in the car door. There they rewarded the more undiscriminating drinkers with some kind of shot dispensed from an ice sculpture which some claimed was shaped like a Vagina or was it a penis. After much searching for the lost keys they were found and we may have stalked the hares to the next beer stop behind Reinhardts were cold beer was finally provided for the by now thirsty hashers. We left here quickly and followed the hares across the street to the 3rd stop but 2nd beerstop where the exposed car key lesson fro m the 1st stop was relearned. Since a different vehicle was involved a 2nd pair of keys allowed the hares to make it the 100 meters to the end. Fags conduced circle and award winners who were randomly picked were made to drink but again no one cared. Just before circle Crabs attempted a full body search on Can't Talk looking for his lost keys but none were found and Can't Talk barely escaped with his dignity. These somehow magically appeared on the carpet later. After the hares drank for a shitty trail and a virgin, No Name Chenaya drank for attending we moved on to the naming of No Name Peedy. Somehow he ended up with the name of Bloody Ass Dick for reasons we would like to forget and then we Swung Low.
680	To properly celebrate the 4th of July the Peach Fuzz camped out on the river island and called it a Rash. Hared by Dude Where's My Crabs and Bozo Where Art Thou people ferried out to Fantasy Island for a weekend of drunken debauchery. Virgins may have cum to the Island but none left. One drunken hasher was reportedly injured by mishandled fireworks or sheer stupidity or a combination of both. Some late cummers made it to the island Sunday but the camp site was all but abandoned but the fire was still hot and Pixel Dick, Must Gang Bang Sally, Can't Talk, Baglady and Puppy Cakes enjoyed dogs and pillaged beer.
679	We met at the Cotton patch for the Mystery Hare Run which was also a Red, White and Blue Run to commemorate the 4th of July. Many were decked out in Red, White and Blue some were not. Since the original hare lied about his availability for a Lebowski run we had but little choice but to improvise and we did. We drew straws to find a Mystery Hare and this unfortunate soul was Dead Peterbeater, and as luck would have it she was the very person who volunteered to do it anyway. She was accompanied by cohare, No Name -------- and being downtown they led us to the Playground where we played with our beer and other stuff, Next they led us to Joes Underground and we drank more beer but did not dance as the band was slow. Next we went to the Famous Burger joint down the street where they were reluctant to serve us beer but they finally came to there senses and we drank and played again. Then it was back to the start where we finished. Bozo conducted circle which was rowdy and colorful as a bag of fireworks, and No Name Christina was named Hickory Liquory Dick..
678	Run 678 was a Poop Run. Hared by Poop Chute Recruit and No Name Ipak we gathered at a deserted culdasac near Wheeler Road and I 20. A good number of hashers showed up in spite of the fact that it was a Poop run. Some of us are slow learners. 3 miles later we were no smarter. Chalk talk was a clue to what was ahead as there were many undecipherable symbols but we followed them anyway. We were led a short distance to a sand cliff for our first beer stop which lulled us into thinking the next one would be just as easy. Not so. This trail was long and eluding and heinous as once we went through the pain of finding trail we could then see the far away beer stop that became further away than we thought. When we finally reached the beer at the pile of rocks we were almost to tied to lift the cans so we played throw the rock in the bucket as a distraction. Can't Talk won this game by cheating. Next we were led t o I 20 where most found a tunnel underneath but one did not. Trail led on up the road to a pine thicket where we may have drank in the past. After more beer consumption trail led back to the start. Bozo, Where Art Thou conducted circle and Poop drank for a shitty trail and for showing up for 200 runs. Award winners were random picks by Poop so who cares. They drank and then it was time to name No Name Barry and No Name Ipak. Naming was swift as Barry became Little Bang Cock due to some exploits in Thailand and Ipak became I Cum Anyway due to her complacent attitude towards sexual partner. After circle we on aftered somewhere.
677	We started from the abode of Blows Big Balls and Fist Full Of Fags for what was to become run 677. Hared by Blows Big Ball and Pussy Dot Cum we began what could be called the never ending trail. It was miles. Some even said," what trail". Some said, "I am so confused". And one zenner said, "you screwed me with the prelay" Some found beer at the boat dock after running the border of No Man's Land. One did not. Then the already tired hashers started the relentless trek in search of meaningful trail and the hopes of more beer. Some of the front runners may have stumbled on a naked camera shoot but due to our thirst for anything wet we just continued our search for beer or trail whichever we could find. Neither was easy. Finally after many miles we arrived at the Playground and were rewarded. The early hashers who could prove their age consumed the pitchers with great gusto. Late cummers were not as lucky. Shortly after the Playground we found Jello shots in the dark ghetto where a couple of the female Hashers tried Hooking in the streetlight but there were no takers. We gave up the jello and then stalked the hares to the end which was the start and Fist Full Of Fags conducted circle. I missed the rest.
676	We met at the Highlander, ground zero for the Peach Fuzz, to celebrate the 10 Birthday of the Peach Fuzz H3. Haired by Bozo, Where Art Thou, we began this celebration with beer. 2 of the originators were present, Baglady and Puppy Cakes as were many newbees and virgins along with the normal riffraff of Hashers. Bozo led us down the steep hill and then across Ga Ave to Gatorland and after some shiggy several naughty checks, boob checks and decision points we found beer. After this one beer stop we were led back to the Highlander which was the end and on the way one of the drunken newbees decided to swim with the gators but was rejected as inedible so he can hash again. Much beer drinking and singing occurred as circle was conducted in the Highlander by Fist Full Of Fags who introduced many virgins, the normal array of award winners, the shitty trail hare. Bozo and they all drank for their sins. We m oved outside for the naming of No Name Chris and left the nonames inside to guard the beer. The naming process was swift and we bestowed him with his new name, Polygamy Made Simple or PMS for short and went back inside to drink and eat the Bday Cake prepared by Bozo's Mom We on after at the Highlander after swing low.
675	Another run at the Backyard Tavern was co-hared by Bloody Stool with No Name Ben as hare. Many hashers gathered for what was to become a wet event. Hashers seem to be into wet. They left the tavern and were led into the woods and beer was found and drank. Then they ventured deeper into the woods where more beer was found but was soon accompanied by many droplets of water along with the threat of lightning. Only the hare and some of those present can give testament to what happened next. We can't forget the hail that the RA brought forth to cool the beer. The run had started with some tepid and un-iced beer. The hail was sent from heaven to relieve the pain of warm beer. There is no excuse for the circle as it was held in the torrential downpour and turned into a wet t-shirt, wet underwear, wet shoes party. On-after was back in the dryer bar.
674	Rash 674 was planned late and started late. A few brave souls or were they just stupid ignored the rain and lightning as they launched kayaks at Rays Creek. Hared by Can't Talk and Chicken Fried Butt Sex with Puppy Cakes, Baglady, Pixel Dick and Must Gangbang Sally tagging along. Only 6 were there to see what had never been seen before. We witnessed the flooding of both rapids or falls, whichever, and Can't Talk even made a partial run down the chute as a gesture to his stupidity. For being the fastest Rasher in the Hash he was awarded a special pin from Chicken for this achievement. After launching we were quickly swept down the creek to the River. We paddled up river past the 1st island but only Chicken had the hardshell kayak to get past the rapids to the 2nd one. We searched in vain for the camping hashers but found none. We paddled back and were rewarded with an easy paddle back up the creek as the floodgates were now closed. We on aftered at Pizza Joint and celebrated Must Gangbang Sallys virginity as a Rasher with beer
673	I'll BIte Yall's Balls and No Name Chris lead a fairly large group from the highlander. Never before had a run seen so many naughty checks. Hands and asses were sorer than their feet. There were quite a few leap frog stops where we were all glad that not everyone was wearing a kilt. Trail took us through some mild shiggy but risked our lives as we passed not one but too alligators. As the alligators saw no real sport in eating a hasher, we were all spared. The turtles might have been more menacing as the gators were somewhat underfed. Circle went as expected with the regular amount of hat wearing in the circle and private parties around the ring. No Name Barry was DFL, Bloody Stool was FRB, and Bride's Maid may have been Poop Noodle. A quick birthday song for Bozo and it was off to the Highlander pub for the on after.
672	Rash #672 was hared by Rub Me Tender and No name Marc from Savannah Rapids Pavillion. Attendees included Silly Rat, No name LB, Chicken Fried, Baglady, Puppycakes, joined by virgins No name Jason, No name Jen, and No name Richard. Fist full of fags, Dude, Poopnoodle, Blows big balls, I'll bite ya'll's balls, and No Name Chris were late comers as the RA was held up making the weather suitable for the rash. Names were discussed for both No name Marc and No name LB. The slippery rocks claimed many hashers. Most bailed before the fun of the rope swing where Rub me tender may have broken a finger. The rash then continued on into the canal where those left were tired and out of beer. By Baglady A little drippy at first, but the sun came out and all was well. We had a flotilla of at least 15 kayaks with close to or over 20 bodies. Fags’ display of acrobatics in the water was phenomenal to say the least. There were several virgins, all who are welcome to join us again. Hash Brown did look a little seasick at times, but he weathered the water and the rapids just fine.
671	Bloody Stool and Chicken Fried Butt Sex hared run 671 and only the bravest of the Peach Fuzz attended. Many prepared with bug and tick spray but most used beer taken internally. We started from the Columbia Co Pavilion following the paved path to shiggy world. Soon we were challenged by a steep climb down to the creek and another on the other side. We then began the long march to find beer. Finally trail led to a cliff of between 100 to 1000 ft high and a few brave souls scaled it. Most went around to an easer accent but beer was found at the top of rock land and we all drank and enjoyed the view. We left our perch and headed towards the quarry but we ended up in dense shiggy and one got lost but some found more beer and many found numerous ticks. A short trail led the pack out of the shiggy where the lost were found as was more beer once the tree bridge was crossed. We ended at the start and did circle.
670	Run 670 hared by Dude, Where's My Crabs and Poop Noodle started at the The Reed Creek Park off Fury's Ferry. This was virgin territory to the hash but there was nary a virgin on trail. After being blessed by the RA The hares led us into the swamp over wooden walkways purchased with our tax dollars. Trail was easy and cold beer was found quickly. But easy was a deception as we ether got wet or we challenged the tree bridge in order to climb Pricker Ridge on the 2nd leg where blood was spilled. Then across Furys Ferry to mild shiggy and more beer. From here smart hashers avoided most of the shiggy and safely proceeded to the end point but some stupidly followed trail into the thickness of more shiggy and were much later getting to the end. Since many of the pack be at the hares to the end award winners were meaningless. None the less the hares picked Bloody Stool as FRB. Can't Talk as Bridesmaid and Rushing For Dick as DFL. Fist Full Of Fags our new RA conducted circle and hopefully the hares drank for a shitty trail
669	Run 669, the Stinko de Mayo run was hared by Poop Chute Recruit from the Backyard Tavern. Some came to celebrate Cinco de Mayo and some came just to drink beer. The celebrators were easily identified by the sombreros they wore. We wandered into the Backyard Tavern by the front door for the 1st beer stop where some had difficulty finding the pitchers of beer hidden in plan sight. Must have been excessive prelube which impaired the ability to find beer in a bar. Anyway we drank the beer and wandered a short distance into the woods for a Margarita stop which was even more difficult to drink than the beer. Little Butter Queef proved it could be drank upside down if one felt challenged. Once out of the woods trail got long. It got so long that many accused Poop of auto hashing but it went unproven. We finally made it to the Mexican bar across Columbia Road and we consumed more beer and celebrated with the Mexicans. There may have been another beer stop but I wasn 't there and there may have been circle but I wasn't there. And Poop may have drank for a shitty trail but I wasn't there.
668	Mismanagement at the Back Yard Tavern. Fistfull of Fags is your new Religious Advisor;
667	We met at the Cotton Patch for run 667. Dude, Where's My Crabs hared this Golden Girls run. Many dressed as one of the golden girls cast and Poop Noodle even brought her walker. Crabs in his dress led us towards the Museum and beer was found quickly as Poop Noodle was fast with that walker. On the way we explained to spectators that we were not part of a gay parade. They didn't believe us. Crabs then led us to Fist Full Of Fags abode for the 2nd stop and we drank with dogs, kids and neighbors. It was here that we celebrated Poop Noodles Bday with a Jello shot kinda Birthday cake. Poop Noodle blew something, maybe it was a candle. The 3rd leg of this run is where Crabs discovered you can't do a 2 lb run with 5 Ounces of flour. Trail markings diminished rapidly but since trail seemed to be leading towards a bar, we got there OK. This new bar, called Tipsy McStumbles is where they served us lo ng necks of our choice and we joyfully continued the Bday celebration topped off with a pole dance by Poop Noodle. She may have had training in another life Since there was no flour left we had no trail back to the finish so the entire pack Zenned there. Puppy Cakes conducted circle and award winners Puppycakes (FRB) Little Butter Queef (Bridesmaid) & Poop Noodle (DFL)drank. There were 3 virgins and they drank. We on aftered at the Mexican Joint where Bozo was stiffed by a couple of non paying hashers.
666	Run 666, considered the Devil's run by some, attracted quite a few devils and one Jesus impersonator. Hared by Bozo where Art Thou at the Highlander we gathered in hopes of cold and plentiful beer. A group pic was taken in front of the sign that had been fabricated to commemorate this run and then we began our treck into the very swamp that Can't Talk hid from the Po Po in on a previous Bozo run. Many ticket bearers remember that run. Once out of the swamp we were rewarded with ample cold beer at the pavilion and then trail up the hill and back around and into the Highlander. Here we combined beer drinking and deviling and may have circled the Highlander again but we were to dizzy to really be sure. As this was a Bozo run, we were not surprised to witness a blue light special right in front of the Highlander. The Po Po may have secretly installed a tracking device in Bozo's brain which migh t explain their ever presence at recent Bozo runs and the occasional lapses into the Bozone itself. Anyway we circled at the Highlander and did the normal stuff and bid farewell to Hold My Balls and his new bride, Yall Cum In The Back Ya Hear, as they are off to Vegas.
665
664	The annal Green Jacket Run hared by Bozo where Art Thou and some cohares,_________________was somewhat of a tribute to Tiger as Several Hashers wore Tiger related apparel such as Tiger T shirts or Tiger panties used as head gear. We started form the campsite at Rushing for Dicks abode and headed in the direction of the Masters. On reaching Washington Road, Driving Miss Blowback decided to do some close in pavement investigation and had to be scraped from the road by fellow hashers. We all assumed he was looking for beer but none was to be found for quite a ways. The 1st beer stop did contain cool beer but it was not going to be any easier to find beer again and consistent with any Bozo run the Po Po were always nearby making the discharge of used beer very difficult. One hasher barely avoided capture as a blue light motorcade came by only moments after he stepped out of the bushes. After some unnecessary hill climbing we reached beer again under the watchful eye of the Po Po who some said were actually stalking us. Again we were able to discharge the spent beer without capture as our stealth skills improved. The next beer stop was in the publix parking area and a great distance from the start. after consuming more beer we headed in the direction of the start point which by this time was far far away. As we proceeded past ground zero of the Masters one hasher, Can't Talk, was snatched by the media and forced to confess our purpose. We finally reached beer again after what seemed like several miles on the other side of the Masters close to Lake Olmstead. From this beer stop some Zenning and auto hashing took place so knowledge of trail is lost and we only know we got to the end. Here is where some hashers encoutered an angry citizen who did some hasher bashing resulting in a Po Po visit and resolving the problem. Bozo conducted circle at the camp site and virgins were introdu ced,___________________. Award winners___________ _______and all drank
663	The Green Jacket Pub Crawl was probably the smallest shortest Hash in rememberable history. Hared by Can't Talk Gotta Pee and starting at the Cotton Patch, occurring at the Cotton Patch and ending at the Cotton Patch a small band of 3 Hashers, No Name Bob, No Name Jen and Notta Nockers plus the hare, plus 2 pigeons and 2 squirrels, enjoyed food, beer, and comradery at the Cotton Patch. We then on aftered at the Green Jacket Camp Site at Rushing For Dicks abode.
662	`Dead Hare Trail to Nowhere - Concert Event Downtown,`Augusta Commons
661	Run 661 was a Dead Peterbeater run and was cohared by No Name Bill. Village people was the theme. Starting near Taco Bell on Washington Road a pack of construction workers and Indians began the search for beer by following a trail laid by a village woman and a gay cop. We found beer near a homeless shelter in the woods/trash dump behind Stien Marts and all was well. Leaving the safety of the the woods the pack began searching again for beer and followed trail until it disappeared in front of Somewhere In Augusta. We searched in vain for trail but our only reward was to play dodge car on Washington Rd as onlookers were placing bets on who would get hit 1st. Tiring of this game and endless searching for trail we used dead reckoning and our attuned beer sensors to find the beer stashed in the woods on the other side of Washington Rd. After much hare bashing for lack of trail the hares mover th e beer under the watchful eyes of the pack about 37 ft to the 3rd beer stop. Here is where Hold My Balls found a large ball to replace his small ones and many a hasher played with it even using it as a shot put and Slappey won the contest for the longest toss. We then headed directly back to the start point paying no attention to trail and beat the hares to the end making them the DFLs and everything else. Hold My Big Ball conducted circle and introduced virgins, No Name Bob, sponsored by Nago Nockers and No Name Mike, sponsored by Noname Calib.and they drank. The hares drank for one shitty trail and as award winners also, and then on to naming No Name Bill. This was easy as He was so into his role as a gay cop he was named Volunteer Queer. We then Swung Low and went somewhere.
660	Run 660 Hared by Can't Talk Gotta Pee and Chicken Fried Butt Sex was what was to be expected, interesting shiggy and cold beer. Starting at Food Lion near Evans A large pack of hashers gathered in joyful anticipation of this run. 1st leg ran them across the street into some mild shiggy, a swamp and 3 creek crossings to finally find cold beer. Some actually got wet. Next trail led up the tracks and mild shiggy to more cold beer. Then more mild shiggy and a short jont back to Food Lion. Hold My Balls conducted circle and award winners, FRB,Hold My Balls, Bridesmaid, Bloody stool, and DFL, No Name Bill all drank for their sins. The hares of course drank for a wondrful trail and to attest to that fact so did several Fans. A couple of late cummers showed up, Camel Toe and Cums With Mom. Two virgins came, brought by Blows Big Balls and Cream of Sheep. Driving Miss Blowback won the Hashshit Award for wooing a hasher on trail w ith freshly picked flowers. All drank and after swing low we on aftered at Pizza Joint.
659	Run 659, hared by Bozo Where Art Thou, was the anal Hash St Patty's Day Celebration. Starting at the Cotton Patch downtown we were rewarded with no less than 4 beer stops. Since shitty trail had been redefined on the previous trail by Crabs and since there was an abundance of beer on this run it won't be called shitty. No this run was green, as there was much green attire and even green beer. 1st stop was at the Firehouse, 2nd stop was at the Playground, 3rd stop was at the Loft and the 4th was at Joe's Underground. Much debauchery happened on trail but with so much beer who can remember. We do remember how short Must Gang Bang Sally's kilt was and Thud's enhanced tits were worth a looksy. Trail ended back at the Cotton Patch and circle may have happened and many may have received awards but you had to have been there to know.
658	The run started from the parking lot at the end of Milledge Road, by GreenJacket Stadium. It was hared by Bloody Stool and Chicken Fried Butt Sex. It was a rainy start and there was plenty of mud to carry on your shoes or on your ass as you slid down the hills or rocks. Trail sucked as we made up for any nonshiggy runs we have ran over the last few years. The run was mostly about Chicken Fried Butt Sex as it was his birthday and his wife, sister, and parents showed up to throw cake in his face and get in the hash pix. His family was kind enough to bring cake ingredients and we used them at the end to make a cake on CFBS's head. We added eggs, oil, flour, and let his head bake for at least two clicks of a camera before he was done. A small turnout as the weather and hares scared the timid away. Rumor is we passed some frolicking alligators or maybe some beavers working late. No one got close to check it out. FRB was No Name Hashbrown, Bridesmaid was Poopchute Recruit, and DFL was Stinky Pinky who drove up for the end and to fetch her man. On after was somewhere...............
657	Run 657 was short. Hared by Jane Doe The Fro Ho and a stupid volunteer, Can't Talk Gotta Pee, we braved the cold and hashed anyway. Starting from Jane Does abode where there was fire we stumbled a short distance and found beer. Unfortunately we also found a foul gas that smelled like shit which cleared the entire hash away from the beer and caused much choking and gagging. The responsible party, Dude, Where's My Crabs, later received the Hash Shit Award in circle for literally shitting on the hash. Since the trail beer had been defiled by shit there was no choice but to lead the flock back to drinkable beer and the fire. Circle was conducted by hold My Balls and award winners and the 5 virgins drank. Notta Spitter brought No Name Ben. A visitor from Hawaii, PHoM from the Aloha Hash, shared gifts with those willing to expose themselves and then Swing Low.
656	Run 656 Hared by Cream Of Sheep and No Name Bricey was a bit slack in attendance. That is to say that including the hares only 9 showed up to brave the cold and shitty trail. Starting from NN Briceys abode the few hounds were lured a short distance to a shot stop. This was but a sucker play by the hares as some said the 2nd stop was at least 8 miles away where beer was found. To make matters worse Poop Chute Recruit went the wrong direction and was lost. But only long enough to call a cab for transportation back to the start. 3rd beer stop was at a bench near the Bonair and then back to the start for the finish where a foot race between Dirt Diggler and Driving Miss Blowback ended in a tie for FRB which really had already been claimed by Poop the cab hasher. The Bridesmaid was No Name Alex also a virgin. Natasha,The other virgin was also sponsored by Cream Of Sheep and both claimed to be his cousins. Everyone drank for their various sins and circle ended.
655	Hared by Little Butter Queef
654	G's Birthday run hared by Ass To Mouth and No Name Chris started and ended at ATM's new abode. More hashers than could be expected gathered in the freezing cold to celebrate G's B-day which some would say was just another excuse to drink beer. Thanks to good planning a fire barrel was there to provide some warmth and doing trail was really just a matter of jockeying for position around the fire barrel. Even though some hashers were lured away to follow trail they didn't go far and one hare was even snared by Chicken Fried Butt Sex. Trail kinda ran amuck from there and Bozo beat everyone back to the fire barrel thus he was considered FRB then, Bridesmaid, Poop Chute Recruit and last but not least was the DFL, Colonel Broke Back. Circle was all about G's Bday and the Hares may have drank for a shitty trail and returners, Jane Doe The Fro Ho and Chicken Fried Butt Sex also drank. Then on to Naming No Name Chris. As fate would have it the naming turned out to be an easy task since Chris had been caught by his mother while parading around in her undies. His name is now "Busted In Mom's Panties" or BIMP for short.
653	It all started at the Backyard Tavern. Hared by Cums with Mom and Not A Spitter we worked our way though some mild shiggy to find beer near a dumpster but the beer was cold and that was good. Then on to some hashers abode where we found more cold beer and a surprise visit from Mom in her bathrobe. Unfortunately nothing underneath was revieled so we drowned our sorrows in beer and moved on and back to the Backyard Tavern where circle was conducted by Hold My Balls. FRB, No Name Billy Bob, DFL, Hershy Highway and who was Bridesmaid all drank as award winners then the hares drank for shitty trail then on to the important matter of naming No Name Frank. Since Frank was limp on trail and has problems making it without assistance he was easily named as Damsel in Distress. On after was hosted by Deadpeter Beated at the Backyard Tavern where she gets paid for drinking.
652	Mismanagement at the Highlander: Not a great turn out but we did have good discussion on the Green Jacket event.
651	Run 651 Hared by Can't Talk Gotta Pee, GAG, and a through in, No Name Frank was called the Red Cross Haiti Relief Run. Contrary to normal behavior the Peach Fuzz decided to do something positive and dedicated the proceeds of this run to help the earth quake victims in Haiti. Some actually dressed for the occasion and there were Red Cross workers a doctor a nurse and a few quake victims. We met across the street from Malibu Jacks and followed trail down the RR tracks to what should have been a check back. But since the overzealous Hashers made the marking unreadable by way of trampling they temporarily lost trail. This error by the hounds allowed the hares to get to the 1st COLD beer stop unmolested. This COLD beer stop was a close replica of an actual earthquake site near Reineharts. The 2nd COLD beer stop was at the corner of Warren road and then a short jont back to the start. Hold my Balls conducted a low profile circle as RCSD was doing a blue light special just up the street. Many returners drank and some snuck out of the house to do it. The Hares of course drank for a wonderful trail even though they were accused of afflicting the pack with ants. Moving hounds don't get afflicted with ants so the hares were blameless. Offical on after was at Jacks.
650	Everyone should agree this run was way to cold for Pajamas. Hared by Pussy.Cum and Yall Cum In the Back Ya Hear at the Cotton Patch, many a hasher stupidly showed up in sleepwear and robes but a least one smart one accented his attire with Fur. The pack enjoyed beer in the parking area across the street from the next stop where shots were consumed and many hashers were violated with Fag's black dildo. Then on to the Firehouse for more beer, a bitchy bartender, and more dildo violation but since few complained they must have liked it. One more shot stop and then we ended at the start where Hold My Balls conducted circle. FRB, Driving Miss Blowback was the only award winner anyone could remember. Of course there were some returners, Fecal Handler, Johnny Apple Shit and Can't Talk . And then both the Hares and Blows Big Balls drank for having B-days. No name Arkansas and Butt Nutt came from Columbia and we ended up naming Arkansas as Gnarly Old Dude which is long for G.O.D. 4 virgins were introduced, No Names Andrew & Bobby & No Name Calvin,brought by Poop Noodle & No Name Petie who made himself Cum and they all drank for cumming. Near the end of circle Where's My Crabs decided he wanted a close look at Hold My Balls, Balls and wanker and yanked down Balls PJ bottoms. This unfortunate act by Crabs should not be forgotten at the next circle as the memory was vile for most of us. Thinking of this almost made me forget that we were blessed with the presence of Cream Of Sheep who has been over there. The on after was at Joe's Underground.
649
648	Hared by Bozo
647	Hared By Poop Noodle and Dude Where's My Crabs
646	Anal Hash Christmas Party hosted by Spank My Spuds and No Name Oscar. Twas a week before Christmas the Peach Fuzz was gathered at Spuds and Oscars house. Many Hashers in costume but nary a mouse. there were Santas and Elves and Christmas decor, but no bare behinds as it was cold as a whore. Spud and Oscar fed us with food that was brought,Bozo built a fire which all Hashers sought. We drank and we partied well into the night and then gifts were opened and oh what a sight. Santa was naughty with the gifts that he gave and once Fags got his doll it was hard to behave. Course there was Yager and some regular stuff but a farting Santa, enough is enough. Since it was Christmas we only had fun, no drama, no PoPo not even a Run. When the evening got late we were ready to go, Spud and Oscar we all new had done a GOOD SHOW.
645	Aw run 645 where to begin? Hared by Bozo Where Art Thou and No Name Miles somewhere in the deep dark woods of Belvedere. The run sucked right from the beginning do to more bad cohare training which resulted in warm beer at the start. Yes beer was plentiful but a hundred years after the invention of ice it was warm. Add a hot fire where the cohare almost incinerated himself in front of us all and you got hot beer. After chalk talk where Poopnoodle became a cohare the pack was led straight up hill in what appeared to be another vain attempt by Bozo to emulate a Chicken trail. Unfortunately it led to WHAT! WARM BEER. Even Chicken would know better. Trail finally led us back to civilization to the last stop at No Name Miles abode where colder beer was found and a live band actually performed for the pack. The end point was back at the fire which made the cold bearable. Circle was conducted by Hold My Balls and many virgins were introduced. No Name Woody brought by Poopnoodle, No Name Brandon brought by Bites Yalls Balls, No Name Billy Bob brought by Cuntwheel. and No Name Rabbit who made himself cum. All learned to properly drink and then award winners were presented. FRB was Fist Full Of Fags, Bridesmaid was No Name Billy Bob and DFL was Where's My Crabs dog,Hashbrown. After proper drinking again the important business of naming No Name Miles was begun and due to the ample antics of the no name several good names were selected. Somehow Molly Ringworm seemed best and he gleefully accepted his fate. After the christening with flour, leaves, dirt and beer Swing Low was sung and the on after was at Molly Ringworm's abode where food was provided and more drinking took place.
644	It started and ended at the Backyard Tavern. Poop Chute Recruit, Dead Peter Beater, No Name Travis and No Name Ivan hared what could be described as an unnormal Poop and Peter Beater trail as unlike previous trails led by this combo you could actually follow trail and find beer. 1st leg was so short it almost didn't exist since it started and ended at the Tavern. We left the back door and entered the front door. Some hashers may prefer it the other way around but beer was plentiful and no rain interfered with the drinking as no rain occurred. On the next leg of this run things got shiggyfied after the traffic and unnecessary obstacles were encountered causing pain and agony on trail. One hasher injured his ankle and was carried out by another Hasher so that others would not have to stumble of his carcass. Finally beer was found at the abode of Stinky Pinky and Poop. We only had to Wander a short distance and then climp a cliff to find more beer. Some stumbled up the cliff and some stubled down. After drinking we headed back to the Tavern just ahead of closing time where circle was conducted by Hold My Balls Por Favor. After a difficult time of positioning No Name Ivan, he was forever named as "Russian For Dick". The name was received unenthusiastically and will probably be the subject of a renaming at a later date.
643	s expected run 643 hared by Chicken Fried Butt Sex and Can't Talk Gotta Pee was nothing less than wonderful. True, traditional Chicken shiggy and interesting Can't Talk obstacles were missing on this run but after last weeks debacle a break from tradition was in order. Trail was short and led directly inside Teresa's, as it was raining, to a plentiful supply of cold beer where after much drinking circle was conducted by Hold My Balls who made the hares drink in spite of there thoughtfulness. Pixel's Bday was celebrated along with Can't Talk. To further commemorate Pixal's aging Blows Big Balls attached a cake to his face which was laced with green iceing for a while. FRB was Cums With Mom who claimed trickery, Bridesmaid was Must Gangbang Sally, and DFL was Dances With Balls who barely made circle. Virgin Lyle was introduced by Poopnoodle and he drank. Much lost property was handed out from Hashgiving and recipients drank. It was noted that Bozo was missing so Blows Big balls kept the redecorated Hash Shit. Poop Chute Recruit wanted it but the quantity of spilled beer simply did not warrant transfer. A rumor was circulated that the Hash Christmas Party would be at Bozos abode but it's just a rumor. On after was at Teresa's.
642	Finally after 560 runs Bozo Where Art Thou has Hared a run worse than run 82, the famous badest run in the history of the Peach Fuzz, which was Hared by Can't Talk and Free Willy. The weight has been lifted from Can't Talk and now rests on the shoulders of Bozo. Run 642 can go down in Hash history as the Po Po run. The good side was that no Hasher was arrested or injured as the potential for either was clearly present. The only thing that might have made this run worse would have been the presence of Poop Chute Recruit who out of sheer luck was absent from this run. We started at the Highlander and with out much trouble found beer on the other side of the road. Things got progressively worse after that. Trail led us across a dangerously dilapidated Railroad bridge where only the dumbest attempted to cross and I was among those. The 90 degree mud hill which was scaled by those dumb enough to cross the RR bridge. That is when we were deceived by the Beer Here as we were rewarded with only liquor shots to quench our thirst after the previous ordeal. Then things got worse as a mysterious visitor arrived who dialed 911 and that was time to leave and again we stupidly followed trail as did the Po Po. Only at the Watts Riots were there more Po Po. Hashers scattered like Rats on a burning ship and many did not escape. Luckily only warnings were issued as we were no longer at the Shot stop. Timing can be every thing. We regrouped at the Highlander but some were missing. Bozo should be the only award winner for this run. circle happened but who cared. Two virgins came, Bytes Yalls Balls brought no name Ryan and Bunny Fo Fo Fucks for Fun brought No Name Matt. Those without a special blue ticket from the police had to drink. Almost the whole circle was a newly christened felon. On after was at home. As Dorothy once said long ago, "There's No Place Like Home, There's no Place Like Home". Only a couple stayed and paid homage to the Highlander which is sad. Always pay back the host. An afterthought. A poem on a T shirt was issued to the survivors of run 82. Poets begin your writings.
641	Once again Can't Talk hosted the anal Thanksgiving Hash Party and it was a fun event. Most brought food and drink and the consumption of both were delightful. Must have been 40 or so Hashers, who can count that high but they all fitted onto Can't Talks big deck. Can't Talk and No Name Lea did a short but fun trail to the neighbors gazebo where beer was found and the theft of both flower bags occurred. Puppy Cakes and Poop Chute Recruit consorted in the Heious act of thief by taking and immediately became cohares. Trust no one was the lesson learned and also when one hare drinks ALL HARES DRINK. Several trails led back to Can't Talks back yard where circle was conducted by Puppy Cakes. Award winners FRB, Fist Full Of Fags, Brides maid, Put A Little South In My Mouth, and DFL was No Name Darrel. All drank. Then the naming of No Name Lea where after much drunken deliberation she became Jane Doe The Froho. No distance was to great for this party as Cums ON fuzz and Undercover Whore drove from Buford and not to be outdone, Yall Cum and Hold My Balls drove all the way from Orlando. Which proves it's better to cum late than not cum at all. There were visitors but most notable was that stand up guy in the TUX who had his way with many a female hasher. And the drunken debauchery also included a Tit Chug by ATM's virgin. On after was at the Finish Line.
640	Chicken Fried Butt Sex and Pussy Dot Cum hared run 640 from the Savannah River Pavilion. Mickey Mouse was there as it was his B-day but few remembered. Trail sucked as the 1st leg was poorly marked and beer was found by blind luck or was it just our keen sense for sniffing beer. The 2nd leg which led us across the canal and back was easier to follow. Trail was somewhat limp for a Chicken trail as the usual difficulties were replaced by the poor marking. Circle was conducted by Bozo and several visitors were introduced, Digity Digity from Arizona, Bunny Fo Fo Fucks For Fun, and No Name Darrel from Carolina Trash. A virgin, No Name Fabian was shown how to drink by sponsor, Bunny Fo Fo, both from Warner Robbins. Award winners, FRB, Blows Big Balls, Bridesmaid, Poop Chute recruit, and DFL Dude, Wheres MY Crabs all drink for there transgressions. Blows Big Balls also w on the Hashshit Award for being a Bitch or Something like that. On after was at Ally Kats.
639	Many showed up to commemorate our veterans and fallen heroes for the Veterans day run. Puppy Cakes and Pussy.cum hared this event at the Cotton Patch and the array of cammos and other Military garb worn by the hashers was extraordinary. The female hashers in uniform could have made any foxhole look welcome. The Rag tag unit of hashers started from the Cotton Patch after a chalk talk that included some lessor known hash marks like say a freaken mine field. In military disarray me followed trail to the 1st beer stop undaunted by the freaken mine fields and found beer at the Firehouse. Next we moved on without difficulty, yes there were zinners, to Green Streets. Here as is customary, bad karaoke was attempted. Also much beer was consumed which had no positive effects on the bad karaoke. Trail next led us to Joe's Underground and you guessed it, more beer. At the end point which was als o the start point Bladder Splatter conducted circle and introduced his visitor from Columbia, Ma Ma Atrois. Award winners were FRB, Ma Ma Atrois, Bridesmaid, Dude Where's My Crabs, and Put A Little South In My Mouth as DFL and they all drank for there sins. The naming of No Name Carissa was of course the highpoint and she will forever be known to us as Sucks Like an Egyptian. Had something to do with her ability to verbalize in Arabic. Puppy drank for his customary bad trail. His only defense was a good supply of beer on trail which wasn't quite enough to offset the freaken mine fields. During circle, A moment of silence was observed as a salute to our fallen heroes and those currently serving. On after was at ?
638	Mismanagement at the Highlander Pub. Congratulations to our new RA, Hold My Balls, Por Favor ! What we need…Suggestions on a possible new campout venue for the Green Jacket Run during Masters Week…Suggestions on a theme for GA/FL next October Also, Up Cumming Events…Hashgiving Dinner – Nov 21, 3-10pm, Can’t Talk, Gotta Pee’s House ; Dirty Santa Hash Christmas Party - Dec 19, 7-10pm, Location to be determined ; G’s Birthday Hash – Feb 11 ; Green Jacket Weekend – April 9-11 ; Go To Hell Hash – Peach Fuzz 666^th Run – probably at the Highlander (anticipated date April 28); Peach Fuzz 10^th Birthday – June 9^th, 7-10pm at the Highlander; 2^nd Anal 4^th of July Rash – hared by Dude Where’s My Crabs; GA/FL Interhash – October 8-11 ; Peach Fuzz 9^th Anal Red Dress Run – October 27
637	Hashoween has com and gone but memories of the Hashoween Party, hosted by You All Cum In The Back and Hold My Balls will remain with us. An Awesome party at the new abode of Yall and Balls was enjoyed by many. The costumery was a product of Hasher imagination and the Scottish Sheep Hurt Her, Fist Full Of Fags,was hard to beat unless you were a 6 1/2 Ft.,280 lb Tooth Fairy, Puppy Cakes. Yall Cum was a Sexy Brick House and Hold My Balls was Bat Guy. Thud made a cute little Kitty, Meow, and Dances was a scary guy. Poopnoodle was Miss Green Slutty Girl and she would fit right in next to the Green Naked Guy, Cunt Wheel, Does green makeup count as a costume? Driving Miss Blowback was some kind of Nome, Can't Talk came as an Illegal Mexican. Gag and Ass to Mouth looked like Loose Gypsies but claimed to be Whores, go figure. South made a cute little Bumble Bee, Sting me , sting me and Blows Big Balls may have been an inmate or Beetle Juice or Peggy Bundy, hard to tell. Neighbors also came, Spank My Spud, an Angle, YES SHE IS, and No Name Oscar a Devil. Baglady was in little kid foot pajamas brandishing a pacifier of fake tits. Super heroes, Spider Man, Silly Rat and Superman, Rub Me Tender kept us all secure. Or was it Clark Kent? Bozo was disguised as Can't Talk and Hershey Was a Delightful Flower Child. Cums with Mom, A Questionable Pimp came with mom, No Name Barbara, The Construction Worker. Nice ass crack display there Mom. Dude Where's My Crabs and Foreskin King both pretended to be Pirates but there search for Booty came up empty handed. Fecal Handler was supposed to be be a Hooters Girl but everyone is still trying to figure the connection between Hooters and Fecal. Johnny Apple shit was cleverly disguised as a tacky table cloth. Fooled me. No Name Carissa was supposed to be an Indian but looked a lot more like a cute little Egyptian Princess, snake and all. Little Butter Queef came as a Cow hand, alone or did he cum with Colonel Brokeback? Did I forget that big baby Poop Shoot Recruit, I would think not. Many enjoyed Tippy Cup and some played fondle the sheep. Great fire by Bozo who took on fire marshal responsibilities with Can't Talks wood. Food was brought by many and there was no shortage of Beer.
636	The red dress run started from the usual spot in front of the Cotton Patch. The girls and guys were dressed in their finest garb as plenty of leg and cleavage was on display, some fake and some hairy. Lots of high heels with Bladder Splatter looking the most comfortable in them. Lots of short dresses and folks going commando which caused a couple of beers to bubble in the throats. Once again it was all about accessorizing to get the final look just right. The pictures speak louder than any comments so look for some of the pictures. The first beer stop was by the falls on telfair street. The second was behind some buildings on Ellis street. The last was in the Playground. All zenning seemed to go to the Playground so some were there 3 times instead of just once. The circle was also held at the Playground which while convenient in the rain, is not convenient all the time. It limited us via the noise, smoke and cramped conditions on the upper level. Dead Peter Beater and Must Gang Bang Sally were the hares..............
635	Lets start with the highpoint of run 635. Dude Wheres My Crabs and Poopnoddle the hares served up COLD BEER to the Hounds on this run. Yes, COLD BEER! From there, Near the N. Augusta Fisbee course, it goes downhill thru mild shiggy to the single beer stop, ONE, UNO. Yes there was supposed to be a 2nd stop but somehow it did not materialize on trail. But at the endpoint after much shiggy, a serious water obsticale, that confused even the experienced hashers, we did find beer. Beer at the endpoint does not count as a BEER STOP. Did I mention that the BEER WAS COLD? This run, known only to a very select few as an Octoberfest Theme run, was accented by some interesting Octoberfest costumery. Some was routine but some was not. Hole My Balls, who also conducted circle, came as a beer bottle but even more interesting was the Gay Bavarian, Fist Full Of Fags. Hopefully no pics of Fags will get out as all of Bavaria would be in a state of shock. Poop Noodle was dressed as a cute Bavarian Whore and Crabs as her Bavarian pimp. What shocked the hounds most was that those not dressed for theme were made to drink in circle for the half days notice given by the hares which was inadequate time to dress for a theme. This awful planning needs to be remembered next run if Fags remembers to bring the Hash Shit with him and if nothing more heinous occurs on trail. Award winners were, Fags as FRB, Balls as Bridesmaid and a virgin, No Name Frankie as DFL. Cums With Mom was Virgin Frankie's sponsor who showed him proper drinking technique then all award winners drank for their sins including the hares for Shitty Trail. A nice touch to circle was the multifunctional FIRE which illuminated, warmed and helped feed all those present. High point of circle was the naming of No Name Patty, Who was sponsored by Mullet Muncher but, violated by Pixel Dick .&nb sp; Many names were suggested that related to her chicken choking ski lls but Must Gang Bang Sally prevailed and she was named as such. After swing Low the fire provided food, served up by the hares, and the on after was there.
634	Run 634, a Bozo run, started at Eisenhower Park and it was wet. But not to wet for the dedicated hashers who attended. The best part of this run was that COLD BEER was served up by the hare, Bozo and cohare No Name Carrisa. Unfortunately the hare consorted in the unsavory act of laying more trail after the Beer Near and delayed the consumption of the Beer at the 1st beer stop. This vial act not only delayed the Beer drinking but also contributed to bad training for the innocent cohare. Trail led from the park across the RR tracks and down a slippery slope where one hasher got muddy. After a fence and shiggy and much wandering to actually find the Beer Here, Cold beer was finnally served up. In order to redeem himself from the bad training the hare layed fairly well defined trail to the next Beer Stop located near the Parkway and the Ball field. It was here that the Hare mistook Chicken Fried Butt Sex for a cop and got snared. After more cold we were led down the parkway though more shiggy and then the 3rd stop where you could actually see the end/start point. We ended at the start and Nice Nuggets Fat Ass was FRB. Driving Miss Blowback was Bridesmaid and Fist Full Of Fags was DFL. Chicken conducted circle and introduced Nice Nuggets as a retuner and the award winners drank for their sins. Several were nominated for the Hash Shit Award. Dude, Where's My Crabs" the holder " for the previous stomping of the award and Can't Talk for allegedly showing his ass in Jacksonville during the Ga/Fla fashion show. We were all saved by Fist Full Of Fags timely act of Pissing in Circle and it was a unanimous vote for him to receive the Hash Shit award. No idea idea as to the on after.
633
632
631	Run 631 hared by Blows Big Balls and Poopnoodle was described by some of the 26 hashers as, a cluster, a disaster, a what the fk is this, the list gos on and on. What started as a cops and robbers run turned into a police operation gone bad. Blows Big Balls dressed like the motorcycle cop you want to be arrested by and Poopnoodle a burglar from "Home Alone" started from the SC side of the 5th St bridge after a chalk talk where Blows exposed her delightful mammarys as an example of what to expect on trail. Trail started innocently enough and meandered downwards towards the camper park across a huge pipe and low and behold! WARM BEER. This in and of itself shoud have warned us of what laid ahead but as we were thirsty for COLD BEER we blindly struggled through the brier thicket to hopefully find trail. I almost poked my eye out doing so but trail was found and it led across the river to what could be described as a cluster fk. The lesson here was do not follow 2 drunken hares across a bridge. The hare's trail was so bad they were snared 3 times. Beer was found at Fist Full Of Fags abode only by stalking the hares not by following trail. Sad part was we had to actually break in to Fist Full Of Fags to get to the beer. From Fist Full Of Fags we stalked the hares again back across the bridge to the end point. While on the bridge 2 hashers, Hole MY Balls and Cums With Mom decided to have a sword fight right in front of everyone but as both got their swords entangled in spider webs the fight was a draw. Cum's mom would have been proud. Circle was conducted by ATM and 2 virgins were introduced, No name Carissa who still has CAN'T TALKS JACKET and No Name James who was reportedly recruited off someone's front porch and who actually ran trail barefoot. The only award winners for sure were No name Leah as DFL and Dude Where's My Crabs as the Hash Shit Award winner. Had not Crabs stupidly stomped on his award in front of the group this award may very well have been given to the Hares. On after was at Bozo's where much more drunken debauchery took place.
630	PFH3 3rd Anal No Name Kay Memorial Red Dress Heart Walk Twas a dark and rainy morning and the hashers started accumulating at Greystone Manor. No Name Patti made some world class home fries and Pixel cooked his specialty eggs benedict. Goes Down Hard brought coffee cake and mini muffins to add to the feast. There was no official time keeper and thus we got a late start on the second leg of trail, we got to the Heart Walk as the pack was leaving the ampatheater. There was a beer stop on trail and then we dashed to the finish shortcutting trail every chance we could. We did our best to stay together for the big finish at the end and many pictures were made by official photographers, hashers and curious onlookers, alike. As it happens with hash plans, mistakes were made. It was just after 11 and our scheduled on-after location was not open. After a failed attempt to invade Put a Little Mouth On My South's house we went to Fist Full of Fag's house for the first on-after. As 1 O'clock approached, we off on the next leg of trail to Helga's for the On-After-After. Not only did the open early for our event they set aside the "no arm pit showing" rule for us as many of our sexy dresses wouldn't not have met code. There we ate, drank, watched footbal, play darys, played pool, and played tippy cup until they threw us out, another hash tradition. It was time for the On-After-After- After. The pack was off, back to Greystone Manor. There was, of course more drinking, more drama, more food, and more people in a bathtub in a kitchen than I've ever seen before. The On-After-After- After-After was at The BackYard Tavern and/or The Finish Line. Those of you that contributed to the almost $2000 dollars we raised, thank you so much. For those that can and haven't contributed, there is still time. In attendance were: Hares: Pixel Dick and No Name Patti. Hounds: Driving Miss Blowback, Thud, Dances with Balls, Poop Noodle (and her four legged friend - insert name here), Bladder Splatter, Dude Where's My Crabs, Fist Full of Fags, No Name (dude with the maroon dress - insert name here), Dead Peter Beater, German Anal Girl, Ass to Mouth, Blows Big Balls, Put a Little Mouth On My South, trail trash No Name Carlos, trail trash No Name James, No Name Jesse, Puppycakes, Baglady, Hold My Balls Por Favor, Y'all Come In the Back Now Ya'hear. The author holds no warrantees or guarantees about the truth or accuacy of this document.
629	Run 629 was not only a Bozo run but a reverse Bozo Run with strong flavorings of Chicken one might add. Bozo, the hare, led the pack of about 15 hashers from Teresa's into the woods where without much trouble, beer was found almost immediately. All was merry and trail lead across the the street, through shiggy, down steams, up steams, through shiggy until the bridge then trail was confused by the Troll underneath,Bozo, and many a hasher was needlessly almost drowned or almost injured trying to find the beer hidden by the Troll, Bozo. Our only salvation on this trail of tears was the full moon presented by Blows Big Balls. After the bridge, trail led to sw amp and due to bad lighting the hounds were lost. Left with no other choice the hounds backtracked to the start point and joyfully consumed beer. Unfortunately the hare was apparently lost out there somewhere, maybe with G. Anyway circle was conducted by Can't Talk with the hare still absent and all awards went to the Hare. It was voted by all that Bozo should also recieve the Hash Shit award for not only a shitty trail but for getting lost on his own shitty trail. Mo H o was a returner. On after was at Teresa's.
628	Run 628, The Big Lebowski Run, was hared by Dude Where's My Crabs and Fist Full Of Fags. According to legend It had something to do with pissing on a rug and bowling, only movie buffs know for sure. Anyway the hares in full costume even brought a rug which no one pissed on so why bother. The Dude - Dude, Wheres my crabs; Walter- Fist Full of Fags ; Jesus- Hold My Balls; Maude Lebowski- Yall Cum; Donnie- BoZo Somewhere between 20 to 30 hashers showed up at the Bowling alley on Wash. Rd Some ready to bowl and some not. The shamelessly lame trail, except for a moment of shiggy, started at near the front of the ally and circled behind where beer was found and then the beer stop. The found beer was consumed without complaint. Shortly after the beerstop, like 50 yards, was a Russian stop, in the middle of murderous shiggy, where,you guessed it, White Russians were consumed by the more serious drinkers in the pack. The hares, reluctant to leave good liquor, had to be heard ed into continuing trail by the hounds. No wonder for as we emerged from the shiggy we were greeted by PO PO who were interested by our activities. Since we exhibited no vial behavior we were allowed to continue on our way to the end point where we started. Hole My Balls conducted circle and the Frb was Balls, The Bridesmaid was Rub Me Tender and DFL was Dirt Diggler. Fist Full Of Fags drank for head gear, Hershey Highway for lost property and no name Barbara for returning. Since Fist Full Of Fags left the Hash Shit at home he got to keep it. After Swing Low we on aftered at the bowling ally and consumed beer and pizza. Some played with their balls right there on the ally and Poop Noodle lost some Horney. Once we had to be restrained by the Ally Po Po for our loudness. Go figure.
627	Run 627, The Football Run, was not a typical Chicken Run as there was no obsticals, distance or shiggy involved. However; there was a bunch of rain. Most of the hashers were too stupid to get out out of it but a few wise ones carried protection. The Hare, Chicken Fried Butt Sex, displayed a rare case of empathy for the hounds and kept them as dry as was possible as trail was a wet one. 1st we stubled into Joes and consumed enough beer to find Greenstreets were not only did we consume moor beer but sang as we consumed. All of us now know why Bozo makes a living as an Artist and not as a singer. He was not alone as Poop Noodle, Blows Big Balls and__________ also atemped a display of talent which was more fun to watch than to listen to. Circle was conducted by Hold My Balls. A virgin, No Name Joel, was induced by sponsor, Cums with Mom. Hold my Balls was FRB, Baglady was FBI, First Bitch In, Puppy was Bridemaid and DFL was a conclomeration of Hashers. All drank for their sins. The closest thing to a cheerleader was ATM who had pom poms on her stockings. Football is all about cheerleaders people. Be advised for next year. The on after was at Ally Cats
626	Run 626 Could be described as the Deception run. Never before has the Hash been so deceived. What should been an interesting Bozo run turned into a heinous Chicken run. The original Hare, Bozo secretly recruited Chicken as his cohare and trail went downhill, uphill, up cliffs, over fences though treacherous shiggy and finally leading to beer. Trail started from the Highlander and went down hill from there that is until the cliffs were encountered then it was straight up. Yes there was beer on trail but what a price to pay. Yes there was blood on trail did I mention the shiggy? The last beer stop was near an abandoned house and then a well deserved stroll by the golf course and a nice steep climb back to the finish at the Highlander. Circle was conducted by Puppy Cakes and two virgins were introduced to the hash, no name Ivin and no name Eric. No name Ivan was a slow learner and those in circle drank many time for his headgear. Covert Cock from England joined us as did Dirt Digler fr om Colorado as visiting hashers Award winners were Cuntwheel as FRB, Driving Miss Blowback as the Bridesmaid and no name Ivan as DFL. The hares, Bozo and Chicken both drank for a shitty trail and the song was revised somewhat as a Shitty Chicken Trail. Bozo was unanimously awarded the the Hash Shit award for heinously deceiving the Hash and drank for his crimes.
625	Run 625 was our traditional back to school run hared by Bozo, Poop Noodle and no name Rachel. Many a slutty little school girl and a few educational drop outs were observed on trail. The trail was somewhat lame and started at the Cotton Patch but since it led to sufficient beer it was tolerable. 1st beer stop was actually a Yucca stop. Luckily Fist full of Fags was auto hashing with his bitch and supplied the more attentive hashers with beer as he carried the cooler in his truck. He later was awarded the hash shit award for both sins of auto hashing and bitch pampering on trail. No good deed goes unpunished. 2nd beer stop was at the Firehouse and the 3rd was at Joes where music + beer was consumed. Some hashers consorted with the entertainer and may have influenced the quality of the music somewhat as some buttcheek exposure was observed. Circle included, Lost property, many accusations and two namings as no name Rachel became Able & Willing, and no name Michale became U Bi I'll Try. A couple of virgins were present, No name Patty and some recruit from Joes who called himself Count Suckula. On after was at Joes and some Ball biting may have occurred there.
624	From the very wet Highlander, after being rained out at the Cotton Patch, hared by Rub me tender, no name Henrique and no name Denise, was what should be termed as a Wa Wa run. The RA apparently was not in good standing with the rain gods, thus the freaking deluge from the heavens. We met at the Cotton Patch but soon decided inside at the Hidhlander was dryer, that is if you were wearing waders. A makeshift mismanagement was attemped by Bozo and a scribe and beermeister may have been selected. Once the deluge ended a short but sucky trail that started and ended at the Highlander was laid by the hares. FRB was Hold My Balls. Bridesmaid was who knows?, and DFL was Fist Full of Fags. Two of the hares were named during circle. No name Denise is now Johnny Apple Shit. No name Henrique is Silly Rat, Dicks are for Chicks and if anyone can explain that one everyone will be enlightened. On after was somewhere. (submitted by Can't Talk)
623	There we were in the shiggy at Mistletoe park and Hold My Balls Por Favor and One in the Pink, One in the Stink led a fat boy trail. It sucked as there was mud and shiggy, and it was too long for a true fat boy trail. A bunch of unnamed won all the awards and Baglady celebrated her 500th run with the PFH3. After circle there was nude swimming and smores.
622	From the Savannah cliffs parking lot
621	From the Finish Line Cafe
620	From dowmtpwm at GAGs
619	Hold My Balls Por Favor and No Name Chris led a trail that started from Inidgo Joes. We had a healthy turn out and it showed as the beer stops were woefully challenged to support the habits of the hashers. There was some song singing at the beer stops which is something that will probably be encouraged at other runs. The police were on site to help us with the crossing of Wheeler Road. 40 people crossing the street was about as interesting as traffic gets around here. No Name Monica was named "I blow big balls". It will be up to her to continue to live up to that one. The on after was in Indigo Joes.
618	Dead Peter Beater and Pixel Dick started a group of over 45 hounds on a trail from the Backyard Tavern. The hares went straight into the woods, hit the paved streets and then it was back to the woods for the 1st beer stop. The next leg took us through the birth place of Kutzu which caused a few to go "fall down". The second beer stop was behind Los Lomas Mexican restaurant instead of in it where there was salsa and chips and A/C. It was back to the woods where trail let up to the perimeter fence around the Backyard Tavern. There we had our 3rd and final beer stop. Trail ended in the backyard of the Tavern. The circle saw many transgressions and plenty of virginal sacrifice as there were plenty around. The on after was at the tavern.
617	O Bozo Where Art Thou and Chicken Fried Butt Sex led trail from the Highlander parking lot in a wet and rainy evening kind of atmosphere. First we had some bad trail before we went over the side of the Highlander on a trail that seemed Déjà Vu from 3 weeks ago. Then it was across the creek and up the other side into the woods where the first beer stop was. Next it was over and around many a tree and bush as we made our way up and down the golf course side of the hills. Another beer stop was had and then it was the long way back to the finish. There were a couple boob checks which bore fruit and way too many naughty checks. At the circle we were visited by a couple of Po Po and beer was stashed if it existed. We toasted Stinky Pinky on her birthday, punished the hares, awarded the swift and slow and then had a lengthy class on hash procedures. The on after was in the Highlander
616	Lil Butter Queef and his virgin, No Name Jesse hared the fireworks hash where they decided after looking at the pack of worn out, drunken, sunburnt, belly-stuffed hounds that they had better keep this run short. Instead of taking the pack down the fairway and over the bridge to see the Augusta fireworks over the river, they took the slumbering pack from Dude’s back porch up the hill in his backyard where we listened to the fireworks and proceeded to whack the shit out of Dude’s Birthday Pinata. Stinky Pinky made the destructive blow, sending KY jelly, Good Head Packets, Anal Beads, Nipple Nibblers, and Watermelon Vodka Shots flying across the yard where the hounds (and harriets) scrambled to find some of the bootie. There was no FRB or DFL – just a pack of no-good bridesmaids.
615	Run 615 – The 4^th of July Rash / Hash started at the North Augusta Boat Ramp where almost 2 dozen wankers met up to be shuttled by Hershey Highway and Stinky Pinky to the Savannah Rapids Pavilion to blow up rafts, tubes, and kayaks and to begin enjoying the frothy nectar and cool water. After a short chalk talk, the hares – O, Bozo, Where Art Thou? and Dude, Where’s My Crabs – were away. Haring in a canoe and laying trail with white balloons, the thirsty hounds made their way to the first beer stop on the other side of the first island – where they were again instructed that at the bottom of the clusters of red, white and blue balloons were either beerstops, prizes or punishments – ranging from beach balls, single shots of whiskey, a first aid kit, fireworks, t-shirts, and one 24 oz. empty… The second stop was a shot stop – consisting of a potent mixture concocted by Bozo using Peach Liqueur and Vodka – called Peach Fuzz! On-on to the third stop – another shot stop, this time of Orange Fuzz (Screwdrivers) – under the I-20 bridge where the shade was much appreciated…Continuing to lay trail with the balloons, the hares led the pack down river, in front of the grassy knoll and down through the chutes and to Hammond Rapids where Nathan’s Hot Dogs, Baked Beans, Chips, and More Beer awaited the pack of hungry, thirsty, sun-drenched hounds. Much swimming and frolicking then ensued. After all the food and beer was consumed, the hares led the pack through the motorboat and DNR infested waters just before the Boat Ramp to the finish line. A few wankers got a much needed lift to the boat ramp from DNR, where the rest of the pack was unloading at the water’s edge. Trail ended at20Casa de Dude, Where’s My Crabs, where the On-After was attended to by German Anal Girl and her little helpers. First we circled, and the hares announced the award winners – FRB was Aunt Eat Her from Carolina Trash, Mullet Muncher was DFL, and No Name Jesse was Bridesmaid. No Name Matt, who was to be named was called into circle and asked to answer questions and accusations concerning his wankery, then circle broke for GAG’s Barbecue and Wings and More Beer while we pondered the possibilities of No Name Matt’s forevermore hashname – Lil’ Butter Queef ! After baptizing Lil’ Butter Queef with beer and Bisquick, we Swang Low and continued our drinking and debauchery until the next hash (run 616) and then we partied a little more, into the wee hours of the morning. The next morning was a blur of pancakes, lost property, and more beer.
614	The Patriotic Run was attended by over 40 hashers with many wearing the Red, White and Blue. Pixel Dick killed 2 birds with one stone by wearing a red, white and blue birthday hat as it was also Baglady's Bday. Can't Talk and no name Monika Hared this spectacular event which started and ended behind Chic fil a with the assistance of Richmond County Po Po. We entertained the patrons of Shannons as it was the 1st beer stop and where much beer was consumed. Then on to Rhineharts where some shiggy was encountered and more beer. The last beerstop was the Mexican Rest behind Raceway where Hold My Balls and Spitters are Quitters stupidly climbed the fence to stay on trail. Most everyone else Zenned around as easy beer is always better. Circle was interrupted by the Po Po and what occurred before the interruption will have to be reported by someone who was there as the hare\beer miester was procuring more beer for the lar ge thirsty crowd at circle. Frb was no name Ryan, Bridesmaid was Hold My Balls and DFL was a no name that I don't know. Since circle was prematurly ended Baglady's Bday was not adiquitely celebrated and this needs to be done ASAP. On after was at Rhineharts.
613	Can't Talk Gotta Pee and Chicken Fried Butt Sex led a small band on a kayak only rash that started above the dam at the Rapids Pavilion and went a mile up stream to the Steven's Creek Electrical dam. There was a good current to fight on the way up to the dam and it somehow left us on the way back. No one went over the falls and no one got bit by the snakes that wanted to share our cookout location. Can't Talk Gotta Pee and Pixel Dick took turns claiming Whale island for the hash all the while the sun was taking a few victims. FRB was Baglady with Hershey Highway being brides' maid and O Bozo Where Art Thou being DFL. Pixel Dick and Puppycakes won absolutely nothing.
612	O Bozo Where Art Thou led a group of 30 hounds from the Teresa's Mexican Restaurant on Boy Scout Road. It was dreadfully hot and the run gave us plenty of opportunities to cool off as we went through plenty of cool mud and crossed the creek enough times to give all a chance to fall in and cool off. There was an abundance of stickers and poison ivy as well as chances to tight rope around on precarious rocks. The trail joined up a good bit of the lousy trail pieces of previous runs and formed them into one big shitty trail. There was once again a shit load of virgins needing sacrificing. The pack went through 6 cases of beer so there was thirst on trail. The on after was in the restaurant that so generously gave of its parking lot to our gathering.
611	Account by the Hare: 611^th run is in the books. Hared by Chicken Fried Butt Sex and No Name Andy (now Fist Full of Fags). The run started by the N. Augusta Boat ramp. It ran down b/t the river and the water treatment plant. You had to crawl through shiggy to get to the road that led up to the camp ground. On the road there was an obstacle of trees that had fallen. In the camp ground a decision point ran into the trees along atop a ridge full of shiggy. It then went down about 25 feet toward the creek. The trail then went across the creek and up about a 15 foot embankment and along the backside of the rec. building. It went down the small walking path where there was a check back and then back into the woods. The trail went up about 35 feet, over the greenway and down 35 feet to the creek below. Following the creek bed, where it was nice and cool, you came to your first beer stop at the river. The hounds rejoiced and cursed the hares for trying to kill them. There was much beer and water to drink here. The next part of the trail went back into the woods above the creek, where it made its way back up toward the greenway and then into the shiggy where it opened up into the area of the power lines. There it went down to the creek and again following the creek bed to you had to climb up a 20 foot embankment to the small walking path above. Here you just followed the path till you got to the parking lot at the far end of the park. More beer and water were rejoiced. The final leg made its way back to the Boat ramp. Possibly every hill was climbed and a lot of shiggy claimed its share of blood. But there were many boob checks through out. FRB= Bladder Splatter. Brides Maid= Poop Chute Recruit. DFL=No Name Brian. No Name Andy is now Fist Full of Fags (he carried all his cigarette butts in his pocket and pulled them out to show he did not litter). Thanks for not littering, great name though (F3). No Name Nea is now Not a Spitter (well you can figure this one out. MMMMMM…….). There were 18 no names(8 were virgins) and 14 named hashers. It was your typical Chicken trail, long, tough and a lot of blood loss. Trail was shitty, but the hares heard otherwise. The on after was at the Highlander.
610	Hash 9th Birthday run, hosted by Puppycakes and Hold My Balls Por Favor. Started from Highlander and went straight into the highlander for many pitchers of beer and some birthday cupcakes. Next trail went down the side of the highlander never used and through the muckity muck and up a steep incline to the second beer stop. The third beer stop was up and over some shiggy laced hills and out into the gazebo in the middle of the brick ponds. The trail to the fourth beer stop was arduous as it weaved along the old brick work of long forgotten foundations and the edges of the ponds. Some HEINOUS BASTARD who SHALL ROT IN HELL stole the fourth beer stop beer and trail was forced to shorten and go to the end point. It had been some 8 years since beer was stolen from our lips and it is a sad way to find out that our fellow man sucks and is drinking our beer. The circle was ran by Puppycakes for nostalgia sake. The FRB was Bladder Splatter, the bridesmaid was Rub Me Tender, and DFL was Hershey Highway. We had a naming and No Name Miriam is now and forever known as Poop Noodle. On after was at the Highlander.
609	Pixel's Account: So there I was, Sunday morning, after just washing the grease off my hands and starting to gloat about installing my Class 3 receiver hitch on the H6 and low and behold Dead Beater Beater shows up at my house to bitch at me for not answering my phone. I explained that I hand not gotten drunk and/or passed out and/or ran myself over, but I was being productive while laying under the wheels of my car. We loaded up the cooler and a what we thought were a couple of vinyl inflatables and headed off to Food Lion to gather some river grub. After that pit stop we were off to corner of Millege Road and Lake Shore Lane to meet up with the pack of hashers. We arrived early which is always a waste of time when meeting hashers and I took the time to survey the falls at Rea's Creek. There was more water spilling over the rocks than I had ever seen before. I took this to be a good sign surmising that there would be an abundance of water in the river. Soon after I returned to the parking area, Bozo showed up and then finally Hershey in the H62 (the Hershey Hash House Hoopdie Ho Hauler, too). We spend the next bit of time loading up the H62 and calling other prospective rashers. After we gave up on that we headed (who said head?) to the Savannah Rapids Lock and Dam to put in (who said put in?). We unloaded the H62 and began the process of inflating our vessels. It was then that I noticed what was air tight last weekend had changed. The right air chamber of my kayak wasn't holding air like it should. I postulated that the patch I had put on it a few weeks ago had failed. It wasn't a significant leak and I had floated successfully with the leak before I assumed that taking my (err... Queenie's) pump along would allow me to enjoy the afternoon on the river with a few inflation stops. What I had forgotten was the last time I was out in a leaky boat we were in deep water and dragging bottom wasn't a problem. More on this, later. We got word that Foreskin King was in route while we finished pumping up. Hershey still had to move the H62 back the parking area but Dead Peter Beater and I headed for the river. I remembered the cluster fuck of the previous week when we had about 10 people waiting at the bottom of the stairs and decided we would put in right away and wait for the rest of the pack out on the water. Since we out on the water and the first rapids are on the Carolina side of the river, it would do us no harm in starting our progress. It was here had what was probably my only intelligent thought for the entire day. If my boat is a little leaky I would be money ahead to lighten the load. I decided to start emptying the cans of Yeungling I bought along. While I guessed (correctly it turns out) it would be missed later, I thought it would be for the best. I knew those following would be in kayaks some they would be able to catch up to us easily. This gave Dead Peter Beater a chance to get her sea legs and some practice paddling (paddling, who said paddling?) her dingy. Once we were on the other side of the river I noticed my kayak was a little softer than I would like so I decided we would go down the first set of rapids and then find a place for the first re-inflation stop. I quickly noticed how easily the somewhat flaccid kayak rolled in the rapids and how I didn't much care for the water I was taking on. As I progressed, I learned to better balance in the kayak and soon found a good place to re-inflate. It was there I started to appreciate the fact that both side of my kayak were a little soft. I emptied out the water and did my first re-pump. I noted that I forgot to tighten one of the caps on the inflation valves so I guessed (incorrectly, this time) that this was the reason for both sides loosing air. Back on the water the rest of the pack caught up. It was then pointed out to me that the side of my boat that I thought was sound and several leaks of air just below the water line. I noted that the current seemed to be a little faster this week and we once again had the wind to our backs. Soon we were on the lazy stretch of deep water that takes us under I-20. For safety's sake Foreskin, Beater Beater and I decided to stop on some rocks before the overpass and do another re-inflate. Bozo and Hershey went on ahead and had time to scout the Carolina bank just past I-20. Once we were off again it was a run to the grassy knoll. It was here we were scheduled to meet up with Dude, Where's my Crabs and No Name Miriam. We arrived before the two late cummers and waited and snacked a bit. Here I was starting to rethink my strategy of lightening the load by emptying Yuengling from the cans. Some of us wanted to eat but our GM was adamant that we cook at Fantasy Island. I re-inflated as the pack disembarked. The usual rapids were strangely unfamiliar as the water level was up. The "shoot" was barely visible and water was rapidly running over what normally are walls. we regrouped in the lagoon of the first island then were off on to Fantasy Island. Once on Fantasy Island we grounded our boats and hiked the the big tee pee. We started a fire and heated pulled pork tenderloin (complements of Bozo) and cooked hot dogs. We had chips and dip and last weeks left over salty nuts while we cooked. Then we feasted like Indian chiefs once the meat was ready. About the time we finished eating, the skies opened up and we rushed into the tee pee for shelter. Once the storm blew over we loaded back up (I re-inflated) and most of us were off on the last leg of our journey down river then up Rea's Creek. Crabs and Miriam were parked at the water works so they went that direction. We took the stream on the right side of the island which has to shallow rapids. I believe this was the final undoing of Pixel's kayak. As I paddled toward the Georgia side of the river I sank deeper and deeper and it seemed like I was paddling a full bath tub of water with just the rime above water. I aimed directly for the bank and climbed out, dragged what was left of the kayak up the steep embankment. I found a clearing and organized stuff. I let out what little air was left in the boat and rolled the oars and Queenie's pump up ion the board. I grabbed my cooler and dry bag and left to see if I could find my bearings. I quickly found a path that lead me to the sounds of River Watch Parkway. Up another embankment through the shiggy I was soon on the side of the road. I could see the bridge over Rea's Creek and followed the road over the bridge and down the far embankment that put me on the path back to the falls and soon there after over the canal and back to the H6. I called Bozo to let know where I was and to find out they were still coming up Rea's Creek. He suggested I go find Rub Me Tender who was wading and waiting at the falls. I drove around and went down to the water in time to welcome my fellow rashers to the end of the line. Hopefully tonight I will have the energy to go on a recovery mission for the equipment I left behind.
608	Pay as you go pub crawl during the first Friday celebration. Started from the Cotton Patch parking area and was led by Hershey Highway and Ya'll Cum In the Back Now Ya Hear.
607	The hash started from behind the prompt care in Evans. The run was led by Spitters are Quitters and No Name Frog. The hares took us through much shiggy and the largest amount of poison ivy seen this month. We navigated fallen trees, hills, creeks, briars, tall grass, and a whole lot of railroad tracks. The hares had but one beer stop and it was well past the point of no return. In fact it was way past the rotting corpse of a long deceased animal that was somehow between the hounds and their beer. The hares were also snared as they didn't have enough beer stops. There were plenty of virgins for sacrifice and we had two namings. No Name June is now and for ever known as July. No Name Frog is now known as Lick My Fly. The on after was at Alley Kats.
606	We had a fine Saturday RASH with a good turn out of hashers. Bozo was the hare as he did the planning and arranged for travel. As always Bozo was hauling a good bit of chow to boot. Between the Pixel Dick Ho Hauler and the Hershey barge, all the hashers and boats got to the starting point. It was about an even mix of kayaks and tubes. The long haul from Evans to Lock to the North Augusta Boat Ramp is a might slow in a tube. All were burnt to where much pain was expected. The river was down a bit but high enough to keep most asses off most rocks. The grassy knoll was the site of a fine barbecue where dogs, hamburgers, pork loin, and smores were cooked. Trail started at the vehicles around 11am and ended around 7pm for most hashers. For those that foraged ahead and were done around 6pm, the North Augusta boat ramp was a virtual police jamboree. Two river cruisers complete with divers were there as were fire rescue and about 8 cop cars. A teen had just drowned in the river. A sad note for an otherwise excellent day.
605	We had an excellant turnout for the Bozo Bday Bash as it was a Can't Talk run and few would want to miss it. We started on what was believed to be an A to A run but turned into an A to B run. 1st beer stop was right after some misc shiggy and a log bridge over a small creek where one got wet. Then more trail that ended at Can't Talks abode for the final stop and end of trail. There trail was done and Bozo's Bday was celebrated with cup cakes and candles. There were award winners and some drank for not wearing proper Bday ataire.
604	Awaiting information.
603	Bloody Stool and No Baller led trail from the Savannah River Pavilion parking area. We ran the entire trail up hill except for the part where we flung ourselves into the raging torrent during stream crossings. First we negotiated the many ways you can take to get to the headwaters of the canal. Once across, we were down on the River bank and trekking through the mud to beer. The second stop found us going over the bridge that crosses the canal and down into Reed Creek where we did a wet crossing to the other side and beer. The following stop had us coming down the slippery slope to another crossing and back up and over the opposite embankment where we wandered across Evans to Lock and into the woods on the other side. Luckily the hare ran out of flour or there might have been some trail to call shitty. Upon returning to our original location, we sand some songs, drank some beer, and told the cops were as harmless as the flour we'd been throwing. Once again the panic stricken neighborhood was thrown into a tizzy by the whistles and flour. On after was at Alley Kats.
600	O Bozo Where Art Thou and Chicken Fried Butt Sex led us on our mathematically challenged 600th run. We started from the Cotton Patch area and ended up over at the Highlander for our first of 3 beer stops. From the Highlander, it was down the rock slide in back and across the golf course to the shiggy at the end of the hoity toity homes. After some rousing shiggy and small doses of poison ivy, we had our second beer stop by where the railroad bridge anchors itself to South Carolina. After that it was across a chasm by tight roping across a sewer pipe and crawling up to 5th street. After crossing back into Georgia we stopped for beverage at the Marina boatramp. The end was of course was where we started from. There were many more at the first beer stop than the second. There were many more at the second beer stop than the third. Those on trail started to dwindle. Some hashers were seen taking the autohashing route and will live in shame. The hares won the coveted and newly discovered twin hash shit awards for what was deemed "shitty trail". No Name Michaela was named and will be forever known as "German Anal Girl (GAG)".
599.9	The rashers met at the North Augusta boatramp and traveled up Rae's Creek to the railroad trestle where water levels were high enough to go straight to the pond. The water fall was working over time and was throwing a ton of water into the creek. Water Moccasins were guarding the creek and about a half dozen were noted on the journey. Some had to be waited on before paddling on. Trail took us towards the rapids as we looped some islands, stopping periodically to put air back in a couple of leaky boats. Due to the decision by committee way of the trail, all were given co-hare credit. No Name Tess was named and will be known as "Oral Support". This was the last hash for "My Wieners Wet" before he shoves off to fight the war. The on after was at the highlander where cold beverages were consumed by all.
599.5	Poop Chute Recruit, No Name Bob, and Thud started us from the parking lot behind the Belair Los Lomas. Trail went into the shiggy and was rarely seen again. The hounds were cursed by a bit of auto haring which tends to put marks a ways apart and makes the hares forget how far the thirsty have traveled. Notable events at the hash was the snaring of the hares, the running out of flour and forcing an A to B at the Backyard Tavern., the naming of the cohare, No Name Bob, who will forever be known as "Driving Miss Blow Back". Seems you get a bit of flour on you when you throw it from a moving vehicle. Other notable accomplishments were Thud and Bone Diggler each hitting 25 runs, Bloody Stool hitting 70 runs, and Mullet Muncher hitting 40 runs. Bloody Stool and Tater Tits were returners and there were no virgins, RA's or GM present. It was utter chaos with bad trail to boot. You can verify the quality of trail with Can't Talk Gotta Pee as he was unable to properly zen it do to its poor quality. On after was at Los Lomas restaurant.
599	Can't Talk Gotta Pee and No Name Phil led us on a rash which saw us putting in at North Augusta Boat Ramp and sailing over to Rae's Creek where we paddled down to the railroad bridge and water falls to cook hotdogs and eat cold chicken. There were 6 rashers in 5 kayaks. Water levels were good. No Name Phil was so clumsy with his falling and drowning his cigarettes and his dropping his hot dog in the drink and his putting his cigarettes on the fire to dry out that we deemed it necessary to name him. He will now and forever be known as "My Wiener's Wet". On after was at the Highlander.
598	We started from behind the Los Lomas Mexican Restaurant on Belair. Mullet Muncher and No Name Nea lead the way. It was a small bit of shiggy and then into the roads. The hares seemed at times to be mobile as the trail stayed on the road and it was a great distance between marks. When you auto hare, you have to drive slowly. Colonel Brokeback was the driver of the beer and the 3rd hare. The hare stopped to make change on trail and was snared. They also brought cops to the down down as we were visited. The new RA's ran the circle and all was well. On after was at the Backyard Tavern.
597	Mismanagement Meeting where new Hash Officers where erected. The new GM of the hash is O Bozo Where Art Thou. The new Co-RAs are Ass To Mouth and Bladder Splatter. The beermeister will be Colonel Broke Back. The rest of the jobs pretty much stay the same .
596	The 7th Anal Green Jacket was held with the traditional fan fare of a late start. O Bozo led a band of green jacket wearing hashers through the various parking lots that lay between I-20 and the Augusta National. The run started from the The Georgia Peach parking lot (formerly 8tracks, formally coconuts, formally etc.). Trail was up to hash standards as it did suck. The hare supposedly had the security guards f*ck with the hounds as they ran through the National free parking areas. As the guards did their job so well, trail was abandoned and the hounds headed for Washington Road in search of less tiresome trail. The run ended at the starting point and the circle was held at the Pixel Dick's Camp Ground. Nothing insanely stupid happened and circle was boring. We still haven't managed to get completely through the bagpipe song. A barbecue was held afterwards and then a bunch of pictures of naked people started showing up on the Internet.
595	O Bozo Where Art Thou hared the Anal pub crawl which started from the Cotton Patch. More details to follow.
594	Dead Peter Beater started off the Green Jacket Celebration with a haring from Pixel Dick's house. More details to follow.
593	Mullet Muncher and Ass to Mouth led us on a dead trail. They took advantage of the drained canal to have one beer stop in a run off area that is usually quite wet. We had to cross the areas largest bamboo forest to get there. From there trail took to the streets as it was the only way their trained eunuch, Colonel Broke Back, could drive them as they threw hash from the moving vehicle. All in all the hares saw little of their trail which was fortunate for them as it sucked. Hold My Balls Por Favor was FRB and was almost renamed for spotting a naked Bladder Splatter on a upside down keg drinking mission. Seems at Cream of Sheeps party, he got his face too close to someone else's balls. DFL was Bozo Where Art Thou. Blue Ball Slapper (Columbus Ohio) was the bride's maid. No Name Sam, the cohare was named and will forever be known as Ass Too Mouth or ATM. The one remarkable part of this run was the running of Spank My Spuds. She is training hard for her future job and was seen bounding down the roads at a slow gallop. On after was at Alley Kats.
592	If you see the last write up, it explains the shitty trail of run 592. O Bozo Where Art Thou and "Dude, Where's My Crabs" laid a trail from dude's house and it feared no shiggy as the hounds were dragged through crap that tore the clothing right off of their back. Trail went everywhere the poison ivy will soon grow except for the places where the water will be too deep for its growth. Trail had many bad trails but unfortunately this was true trail and hard to follow at times. We were YBF'd many a time. The theme was April Fools and Bozo was not even in costume as he had a mission and it was to kill the hounds. There was pizza at the end for the on after which was at Dude's house. FRB was held by Chicken Fried Butt Sex and Meet the Beaver. Bride's Maid was Puppycakes, and DFL was No Name Nea. Meet the Beaver was visiting after a 2 year absence. He brought gifts for the GM and RA. Did I mention the run sucked? After thinking about the run for a week and the fact that every hound came down with poison ivy, I may have underestimated the growing season of poison ivy. Did I mention the run sucked long after it was over, like for the next 3 weeks or until the poison ivy give us its victims.
591	So there you were...Spending all week possibly two weeks planning the most, shitty, stinky, hill climbing, ass straining, leg breaking, back breaking, swampy, muddy, and shiggified trail ever for the upcumming hash that you are to hare.... When....finially it's YOUR Wednesday that cums upon you.... for Wednesday is most definitely a hashing day.... The storms are a'brewing, and you think, "oh yea...this makes shit even better"! I'm going to give them a trail they will NEVER forget." "They'll be going home crying to their wives, girlfriends, or mommy's about the hell they went through on my trail." Then as Wednesday at 6:30 pm approaches, you show up early...you just can't wait any longer to get to the start of the shittiest trail ever...you almost don't care if there is beer there... You can't wait for your fellow hounds to show up one by one, so you can give them that "evil eye grin", and dare them to ask ANY questions about tonight's trail.. Time keeps ticking.... 6:55pm 7:00pm 7:15pm...oh...there's a few wankers... 7:30-ok...your feeling a bit shaky, pissed, and nervous all at the same time that this is going to be it for the hounds..You need a beer . 7:40pm..Yup this is it, and you think, "DAMN, those wankers...I wish more would have showed because this trail is going to be suck ass! "Why do we have to have a low turnout on MY trail"? "This sucks!" You need another beer 7:41pm..Chalk Talk & Hares away (because like a true hasher, you hare that trail from beginning to end even if you’re all alone and no wanks show up at all. "Hell that's more beer for me anyway", you think. You grab another beer on your way out 9:30pm maybe 10 pm..You drag yourself out of the woods drunk as piss. You feel better after all the beer you have consumed, but you just wish the entire pack had experienced that SUCKY ASS SHIT. DAMN! You need another beer. 10:30pm There is no On-after and possibly no circle... so you grab a handful of beers, go home to your wife, girlfriend, or mommy, cry your drunken eyes out and fall fast asleep....As your almost asleep an evil thought crosses your mind, but just barely, "Just wait until my next trail....you SOB's...Ya'll haven't seen shit yet"! Moral of the Story Positive "Low Turn Outs="I'll-Kill-Ya" Trail from the hare next time around..
590	Puppycakes and Baglady led a band of hounds from the Highlander. Trail went the distance as there were 4 beer stops. One in the historical park. One down below the highlander in the pavilion. One in the Highlander, and one behind the highlander that would have been down by the river but time was short. About a dozen were on trail and the on after was in the Highlander.
589	Several of the Peach Fuzz met up at the cotton patch Tuesday eve for a sort of impromptu pup crawl hared by Coronal and Foreskin. Some wore kilts and some wore green. Much beer was consumed but not at Joe's where they wanted to charge us to drink the beer that they were gonna make us pay for. It's called cover. On on to the loft where beer was plentiful But women were scarce so after a few pics with lonely bikers we were on to the Playground. After that who knows what happened except more beer was consumed.
588	It became immediately obvious there was no RA at the run as the weather truly sucked. It was cold and damp and rain threatened through the day's activities. Five hashers gathered at the appointed start time but decided to wait as a couple of bimbos called and said "we're almost there." An hour later when they arrived we had chalk talk and a rare display of what could only be described as caveman art. One of the hashers was a new to the Peach Fuzz coming off a twenty year hiatus from hashing. No Name Charlie selected this run to be his second. The hares were off and the hounds started to conspire. It was suggested by one of the hounds that we say screw trail and leave the hares waiting at the first beer stop, forever. After all the Pizza Joint was close, warm and dry. Not wanting to get busted Can't Talk did a little investigation to make sure the hares weren't just on the other side of the building and would be able to hear us drive off. He disappeared behind the building and after a moment we decided to go find him. The rest of the pack went around the building the other direction and lo and behold we found the sneaky hares waiting for us at a shot stop. At this point our plan was foiled and a half hearted attempt to leave from there to the Pizza Joint didn't fly. The second leg of trail quickly led us off into the shiggy. Over hill and dale we went on a seemingly endless trek. Finally written on a four foot diameter plastic drainage pipe was the much sought after beer near symbol. However the arrow pointed through the tunnel. We could see light at the end of the tunnel but only barely visible though a brick structure. It was obvious the tunnel led from one side of a retaining wall to the other. The wimpiest of the hashers simply just climbed over the earthen wall to get close to the beer. The one true hasher, Pixel Dick, made his way through the tunnel to rescue the beer. Foolishly, he hand the beer out of the brick structure through a hole in the wall he thought he could climb through to make his escape. It was only after stepping one leg through the hole that he discovered he was standing in quicksand and the other leg was disappearing into the ground. Thinking quickly he reversed course pulled the stuck leg free and back tracked through the tunnel. It was only then he was reunited with the golden nectar at the beer stop. All to soon the hares were off and the hounds soon after. Past the buzzing of the high voltage power lines and back into the shiggy. Once again the trail was grueling and once again it led us to a tunnel. This tunnel was a brick structure with a railroad tie floor. While seemingly sound we found out it was old and nearing the end of it's useful life. This time the creek went under a set of railroad tracks. The climb over the tracks was daunting and probably the more difficult of the two paths. Once again Pixel Dick braved the tunnel, this time followed by No Name Charlie. The tunnel was long and dark and when we found light, it was from a cave in that allow light in through an impassible hole the tunnel's roof. I say impassible because it was at that point we could hear what sounds like a waterfall and we could see what appeared to be the tunnel suddenly dropping off. We were too far into the tunnel not to investigate this new phenomenon. As it turned out the drop off was not straight down. We were able to slide down slippery algae covered floor to the bottom without incident. The tunnel dumped out into a pool of water that had a soft bottom and our feet sunk in. The hares promised the water was only knee deep but they didn't realize how short my legs were and my testes tested the water temperature before climbing on their own to safety. Exiting the pooled are was trick but no match for a skilled hasher. It was there we waited for the rest of the pack to finish their climb over the tracks. We were through the tunnel before they started their dissent and it was obvious which side of the stream trail was on, but Spud and Cum Back came down on the wrong side of the water. Opting not to follow veteran hasher Can't Talk. Can't Talk and Pixel went on ahead and left No Name Charlie to be the gentleman and help the bimbos across the water. On down the trail way out of sight of the other hashers was a thin tree that made a bridge over the water. Of course trail led across the tree (so the Bimbos didn't really need to cross). It was obvious that ten yards up stream there was an easy place to cross the water to Can't Talk and Pixel crossed there. They then proceeded to the tree bridge so they could jump off the log as the other hashers came into sight making them think we crossed over on the tree. No Name Charlie was easily fooled and used the tree to cross making us think he was a circus tight rope walker in a earlier life. The bimbos weren't so easily fooled. Once the hounds were back in a pack we proceeded on down trail and finally to another beer near. Can't Talk quickly spotted the hares and was off through the shiggy after them. The rest of us simply followed trail down the beaten path to the beer stop. After this stop it was a quick zen back to the start. the hares tried to make this last leg un-needingly complicated and barely missed being snared on the last leg. The pack was sans RA so Dirty Bath Turd and Spitters Are Quitters led circle where the award winners, Y'all Cum in the Back Now, Ya Hear was FRB, Spank My Spud was Bridesmaid and Pixel Dick was DFL were punished and the hares drank for a shitty trail. We swang low and were off to the Pizza Joint for our On-After.
587	Chicken Fried Butt Sex and Hardly Ever Comes led a trail from the Cotton Patch that provided some misdirection and had us going down into old town where we were noisey and the cops came to shut us up. Trail took us to the new Playground and Hardly Ever Comes House where his neighbors took offense to a rousing chorus of "tits out for the boys, tits out for the boys". Go figure. On after was at Joe's Underground. Trail was around 4 miles.
586	Well fun was had by all who attended. After a weekend of drunken ridiculousness in Savannah, I trekked a wretched three hours sunburnt and hungover to put on what was agreed upon to be the best trail ever laid. Those in attendance were also the award winners as they were they only ones to show. Bladder was the FRB and Spitters was the DFL, i know it didn't sound right to me either, should've been the other way around. Circle, or rather a triangle, was held at Mi Rancho. In any case, those who were to big of a hippo's ass to come after savannah or didn't find the time, missed out on some good hasher fun. On after was at the Roller derby, where there were many latecomers. (Rub me tender, Foaming at the Head, No Name Samantha, No Name Michaela, Hershey, Spud, and Dude wheres my Crabs)
585	Can't Talk Gotta Pee led the season's first rash and it enjoyed a river full of cold water. The big rapids was really flowing well and there was less rock to boat contact that we have been used to. There was a cookout at the grassy knoll where Can't Talk grilled cheddar dogs. Start was at the Evans Rapids Pavilion and the take out was the North Augusta Boat Ramp. In attendance were Can't Talk Gotta Pee, Chicken Fried Butt sex, Poop Chute Recruit, Hardly Ever Comes, Baglady, and Puppycakes. We all got sunburned to a shade of lobster and had a great time.
584	In retaliation for those leaving our hash for greener pastures,Namely The Savannah Green dress run, this weekend, You all cum stepped up to the plate and Hared a !1st Friday Pub Crawl. Unfortunately You all Cum Doesn't yet fully understand hare responsibilities and was 45 minutes late leaving one hasher standing on the designated street corner like a cheap hooker waiting on a trick. Then things got worse as the hounds had to anti up for the hare and associate, Spud, to drink. The Colonel, Hold my balls, Spitters are Quitters, No name Michaela and her daughter and friends were also part of the festivities Starting at 1102 then to several other bars including the Loft, where much fun was had by all. There were no award winners as drinking was the major focus of this run.
583	Rub Me Tender and No Name LB laid a death march of a trail that started and ended at his house. There were a lot of bad trails which contributed to the hares getting snared in the middle of the 1st and 2nd beer stop. There were some awards given out as Bladder Spladder got his 25 and 50 run awards together. Bloody Stool received his 69th award. We had a pair of namings as No Name Jason is now and forever known as "Dude, wheres my crabs". and No Name Brandi is no known as "Ya'll come in the back now, ya hear". both are long names and I'm sure we will shorten them in our daily use. Rub Me Tender baked some wicked Sheppard's Pie that the hash devoured for the on after.
582	Bozo Where Art thou and No Name Jason led us on a rare Saturday trail that was just prior to the 95 Rock pub crawl. The theme was come as your hash name or a comic book character. Bozo and Cream of Sheep were very refined in their clown and sheep attire. Trail wandered around town and missed many a good bar as all stops were outside. The beer meister ran out of beer but all was well as Hershey Highway fetched some for circle. We had some virgins and plenty of returners. Lots of lost property came to circle as Can't Talk Gotta Pee received a whole wardrobe of items. Rub Me Tender received his 25th run award. We started and ended on the sidewalk between Ellis and Green Streets, on eleventh street.
581	Can't Talk Gotta Pee stepped up and hared for Hershey Highway and No Name Michaela. We were treated to the traditional shitty trail. We wandered through some construction areas in what was a long and dry first leg of our journey. Our second stop was shorter but offered a glimpse of the wetness to come. We took the drainage ditches across the I-20 which means we were underground and swimming in the foot deep water for a few hundred yards. Trail took us out of the creek and back into the creek at times. Trail seemed to be horny for I-20 as we kept rubbing up against it at every opportunity. Needless to say trail sucked as we were cold and wet. Can't Talk Gotta Pee received his 300th run award and Foreskin King received his 100th run award. On after was at SomeWhere in Augusta.
580	From the Hares: For all of you fair-weather wankers, we had four (4) FOUR! namings this past Wednesday. No-Name Anna (worst pimp ever) shall forever be known as Shaft Snapper (to be pronounced with a British accent), No Name Andrew, due to many antics, and his ability to contract rabies from beer, is now to be know as Foaming at the Head, No Name Tina due to her poor choice of cum-patriots is now appropriately named Piss on Me (I think Can't Talk is actually excited about calling/asking her that). Also Colonel now has a bitch, Colonel's Bitch. From the hounds: We had a whole lot more than just four naming's on this run, hared by Bladder Splatter and Cream of Sheep. Can anyone say Cluster. The only salvation to this run was Plenty of beer served up by the hares not the beer mister. What was in the cooler could not be clearly defined as beer. The trail sucked as bad as a Chicken trail. Only the unlearned completed this run everyone else Zenned at the 1st opportunity. The trail sucked so bad that the hares and the hounds became one and it was impossible to tell who the award winners were so the hares drank. And drank. And drank. The deluge of rain at the end prevented search efforts for Can't Talk's phone and Pee on Me's clothes and bra were also lost. Broke Back drank for lost property found during the phone search. On after was the start point with Chili served up by the hares.
579	Typical of a Can't Talk run, the Valentines Pimp & Hoe run was nothing short of wonderful. The pimps did out number the hoes but that had nothing to do with gender. The pack was rightfully confused at the very beginning and had to be steered to the 1st beer stop by the ever watchful hare where beer was plentifull as were the Po Po right before the pack arrived. Next was the Pizza joint and then the Playground with you guessed it, more beer. Paytrons at the beer stops were awed by the blatent display of our attire. Luck was uppon us as the deluge of rain waited almost to the end and circle were aborted due to our desire to stay dry and not drink for our sins. Bladder splatter was FRB, Wub Me Tender was Birdes Maid and Bozo was DFL. Two naming's were delayed for a drier circle and a lot more info. (so quoth the hare). The real deal is trail was long and went past 9:30 so the epic struggle to hold back the rain was lost.
578	Baglady and Puppycakes led the pack on a cold run from the Highlander pub in North Augusta. Run time temperature was optimum for cooling beer so the pack was lucky. Ice was not going to be melted at the beer stops. Trail was between 2 miles and 3 and had plenty of scenery at the 4 beer stops. Trail was shortened as the hares ran low on flour. There were hills, shiggy, fences, water, mud, manicured trails, and rocks. Trail was modified as the North Augsta tree cutters have outdone themselves and screwed up some of the trail. There is no cover that hasn't been messed with. We had plenty of warm weather hashers that stayed clear of trail and hung out in the safety of the highlander. On After was in the Highlander
577	Chicken Fried Butt Sex and No Name Anna led a wet pack through the wet night, dropping flour which was soon dissolved by the rain. Trail had the hounds hunting for trail as the wet leaves devoured most of the flour and the hares never led the pack to a warm bar but chose to instead run past many a familiar hasher haven. No Name Dan had a name bestowed on him as it was his 6th run. He had just fell down a ditch, shoved mud up his ass and lost his gum in one swift move. This led to the pack naming him "Shart Felcher" . Trail caused a few to go back to their cars and even some to leave as the weather created quite a quagmire of excitement. The on after was at Tereasa's.
576	Argh, Swab Me Dick and No Name Sabrina (with a bun in the oven) led trail from the Cotton Patch. Argh and No Name Sabrina had never hared so we expected the worst but were surprised when trail was actually worth following (it still sucked). The were multiple bad trails, cut backs, and opportunities for the hares to be snared but miraculously they were not. The cops were camped out at the circle so circle was moved to the back of the Playground (near the pool tables) where many a customer was treated to songs quite alien to them. No Name Sabrina was named and will be forever known as "All Hands On Dick". On After was at the Pizza Joint.
575	The PFH3 had a mismanagement event at Chicken Fried Butt Sex. Items discussed were related to the upcoming Green Jacket Run. Hares were recruited for the next 2 months. In attendance were Chicken Fried Butt Sex, No Name Dakota, Baglady, Puppycakes, Can't Talk Gotta Pee, Bladder Splatter, Cream of Sheep, Spank My Spuds, No Name Brandi, No Name Michaela, No Name Anna, Hershey Highway, Bozo Where Art Thou, No Name Sabrina, Argh Swab Me Dick, Pixel Dick, and Mo-Ho.
574	Puppycakes and Baglady led the pack from the parking lot of the Highlander Pub. Trail had 3 beer stops and wandered up many a hill and around many a pond. Trail was shortened a bit by the pack not waiting the customary 10 minutes at beer stops. The hares left when the hounds arrived and had but 5 minutes before they were back on trail. This was a pattern that could easily kill older hares running with beer laden backpacks. We had three virgins and a visiting hasher as well as plenty of regulars. The beermeister and GMs were absent so the virgins got away without any plunger drinking. Hold My Balls Por Favor was FRB, Spitters Are Quitters was Bridesmaid, and No Name Dave was DFL. The on after was at the Highlander (Duh).
573	Spank My Spuds and No Name Brandi led the freezing pack from her parking lot on central on what was a New Year's Eve Toga Run. That explains the freezing part. some wore clothing under their run and others have still got chapped and chaffed nipples. The start was delayed as beer was positioned at the various beer stops. The first beer stop was at Chicken Fried Butt Sex's home , the second was at Bozo Where Art Thou's home, The third was at Put a Little South In My Mouth's home, the fourth was at Fecal Handler and Foreskin King's home, and the fifth was at Helga's bar. Trail was a virtual tour of the hashers who live around Central Avenue. Shots were abundant at the various stops as was beer. Trail was not without its problems as part of the trail crossed itself and caused some hashers to deviate. The cops stopped some hashers as the local Alzheimer home was worried about the folks in white sheets. Wankers started auto hashing with reckless abandon (some never walked trail). Helga's and the Waffle House kicked hashers out the door for obviously trumped up charges. Some hashers had to leave as trail was running past 11pm and we were still at the 5th beer stop. All in all an interesting run........
572	Mullet Muncher led a bunch of Christmas Eve revelers on an impromptu hash from the Cotton Patch. For the most part it was a pub crawl that welcomed in the Christmas Spirit. Rumor is that they were bad little girls and boys and it made no sense to wait for Santa.
NA	Chicken Fried Butt Sex held the anal Christmas party at his country estate. Revelers gathered by the pool where they partook in a beer tasting and the occasional debauchery. Most of the events will remain secret as there are some who aspire to public office someday. There was a dirty Santa and gifts were stolen at will. On a personal note, if you get the last number and you aren't there, and you have someone representing you by proxy, you get screwed. One note of mention as she demanded that it be in the minutes: As puppycakes and Baglady returned from their snob party and were told of the many naked adventures of the hashers that remained, Spank My Spuds sprang from her folded up clump on the floor and tackled Baglady's leg. Spuds, dressed in only a bra and a reported 3 pair of underwear wanted to make sure that her actions were mentioned for all to enjoy. The revelers then were making effort to search for food and further debauchery. Being in a suit and tie prohibited pupycakes from recording anymore activities.
571	No Name John and No Name Kevin led us on a nameless run that started from Eisenhower park and somehow, after miles of pain and torture, returned us to Eisenhower Park. First we made a dash to the woods by the Pumping Station where we could see how bad they want to damage our hashing woods. Bulldozer's suck. Then it was to spots along the canal, making the turn at the bridge past Lake Olmstead. After many a deadend, we arrived at a backyard where our numbers were somewhat dwindled. The last leg saw us wandering back to the start. The trail was long and somehow had few redeeming factors so it sucked. The hares drank accordingly. There were some award winners, returners (Colonel Brokeback gave a speech), hash jackets were given to runners over 200 runs, and we had the occasional foo pah that needed a trip to the circle. Did I mention the train trying to kill us on the way to the first stop. Actually there was a second train around the second stop that also didn't find our wandering about the tracks amusing.
570	Poop Chute Recruit and No Name David led us on a muddy trail from the backyard tavern on Belair Road. The Religious Advisor stopped the rain just in time to run the trail. The first leg went into the woods and sucked so bad that the heavens started leaking. The second leg of trail went to the backdoor tavern and sucked so bad that the rest of heaven opened up and started flooding us. The trail ended do to a lack of boats and circle was a no go as the local juke box was pumped up more than we were. On after was where you could get dry.
569	Fecal Handler and Hershey Highway took us on a trail that resembled a large circle or O Bozo Where Art Thou's trail from a week prior, which we're not sure. It started from the Fecal Handler/Foreskin King residence and managed to go uphill quite a bit. The first stop was at the nearby park where we drank beneath a lighted Christmas tree. The second stop was behind Hershey Highway's old store and we had some shots to enjoy. There was an ice hazard to avoid. The last stop was at Spank My Spuds home and wouldn't you know it, it was up hill. We finished at the start and had circle with plenty of virgins to sacrifice. Oddly they were all women that have had sex with Mullet Muncher. Less oddly, they were family. The plungers were absent so the virgins got over. We had returners and some award winners. The hares did most of the drinking which was fine with all. Females outnumbered the males but it was never mentioned for the second time in a row. What's with that? On after was held in place with some fine chili to consume.
568	O Bozo Where Art Thou and No Name Brock led a trail from Bozo's front porch which wandered in and around the general area, using alley ways and shrubbery as it made its way to beer. Trail was marred by the many hills and the complete lack of intelligent haring. Marks were left on trail that were not identified in chalk talk which of course is kin to chaos. The hashers were cold so the beer was cold as well. Can't Talk Gotta Pee was the FRB as he skillfully zenned about 50% of the trail away. Fecal Handler and Chicken Fried Butt Sex were sharing Bridesmaid and Bladder Splatter was the DFL. We had one virgin, No Name Sam (girl). Chubby Chaser was a returner. Fecal Handler and Foreskin King had lost property as they left some wedding attire and wedding cake at Can't Talk Gotta Pee's home during the Thanksgiving potluck. We had a naming as our co hare, No Name Brock, was finally awarded his proper name. The pack quickly sized him up and decided that their sense of smell did not lie and he is and forever will be known as "Cream of Sheep". The on after was at Bozo's house as he made some rather fine chilli which was consumed to the last drop.
567	Once again the Peach Fuzz gathered at Can't Talk's abode for our anal Thanksgiving bash. There was much eating and drinking and peeing. Even though it was somewhat chilly all were warmed by fire, beer, and an abundance of fine female hashers. Thanks to our hash photographer, Thud, it was all well documented. A surprise run was hared by Can't Talk, and a short run to the neighbors was enjoyed by all. FRB was, Jizz Mop . Bridesmaid, was Baglady, and DFL, was Spank My Spud. A circle was formed on the big deck And two virgins were introduced to the Hash. No name Brandi, and no name Tina. Joining us for circle were newlyweds Foreskin King and his bride, Fecal Handler, They drank for there sins and shared cake with us to commemorate there tragic act. For the traitors who did not attend, it was their loss. On after was at chicken's
566	Chicken Fried Butt Sex led us on a trail from the Teresa's on Boy Scout Road. He was aided by No Name John. It was a over the hill and through the woods trail that saw various hashers having to explain their activities to renta cops and there was a couple of semi dry cricks to cross. Temperatures were down and the beer was used to keep warm. There was a large fence to negotiate and we dodged many a strand of barbed wire. Kokamo's relocated and was the site of the last beer stop and the on after. We had 4 virgins and a few more hashers at the start that weren't there at the end.
565	A crazy hat run was lead by Puppycakes and Baglady. There were quite a few different hats. A few were made creations that came from the soul while others were crazy bought from a rack. The run seemed long to some as a new beer stop was added which had never been done before. We started at the Cotton Patch and ended the first leg at the Fox's Lair which is on 4th and Green Streets. From there it was the underground and the Playground. All in all it was a tour of the hottest bars in Augusta. We had a good turnout and there were award winners such as Covered in Cock who was the FRB. She took advantage of a strategically placed boob check and she chose the less popular route and cleared trail. The other award winners, returners, and virgins are lost to our collective memories. On after was at the Pizza Joint.
564	Red Dress Run The 7th anal Red dress run was a smashing success as it was hared by Can't Talk Gotta Pee. He led the pack of about 18 Red Dress Hashers on a short but sweet trail to green streets, where the usual bad karaoke was enjoyed along with much golden nectar. Then it was on to the Firehouse where we were treated to the worst bartender contest for Augusta. What a thrill that was. Our thirst for golden nectar was abated and we were off to the end and circle. There was a FRB, brides made, and DFL but who can remember.
563	2nd Anal No Name Kay Memorial Red Dress Heart Walk. Pixel Dick organized yet another charity event to further diminish the hashes debaucherous and lecherous reputation. It was held at the Augusta State Campus and the hash made at least one lap as the beer stop was at least a lap in length. The day started with Drinks at Bozo's and ended with the same. Red dresses were the rage unless you got a glimpse under Can't Talk's dress when he kneeled to take photos.
562	Behind the Chic Filet on Washington was where Bloody Stool, Tater Tits, and Stool Softner started trail. Waiting for details.............
561	(Teresa's on Boy Scout Road) due to the light turn out money was returned so everybody could buy a round inside Teresa's
560	(Eisenhower Park) it was a nasty rainy night so we made sure to take them on the longest possible trail EVER, except that meant we'd have to be out in the thunder/lightening too so after several beers we took the hounds out on a lovely scenic trail to the restrooms at the baseball fields for the beer stop and then back again where we did a hurried circle since the lightening was starting to pick up and we really didn't feel like going to the hospital.
559	Smoove Operwator bailed and Blow Me stepped in to help Addadicktome lay a trail from the Cotton Patch. It was a doctor's theme run and there was much sickness in the group. A couple naughty nurses, cancerous patients, and dopy doctors chased the hounds as they found bars to drink in. Green Streets caused some bad karaoke to occur. This was the last run for Addadicktome and Dirt Diggler as both were leaving us. The down down was speeded up as john law seemed to be hanging around the area a bit. The on after was at the pizza joint.
558	Chicken Fried Butt Sex led the group from the North Augusta Boat Ramp. Shiggy was the word and the word was made plenty. Trail sucked and then there was all that nasty shiggy also. Adding to the confusion was the markings left by a high school cross country run. Seems like they were running our trail. The down down was short as the beer meister was not to be found. The on after was at the Highlander.
557	Foreskin King started us from the Highlander pub parking lot and before long, had us climbing over fences, walking up hill through the shiggy and drinking in the abandoned house district. That was the good part. The rest of the run had us sliding down treacherous hillsides on our arses and then circling the golf course which makes us sad as we walk past all the pretentious bastards and their fine homes. If that wasn't bad enough, we end up journeying down enough track to make a china man feel sorry for his ancestors. Can you say railroad bridge. and beer stopping in an old passenger car that even the bums don't live in and then going down the abandoned tracks that may have been built by the China man's ancestors? By this time no one feels like going "whoo whoo" as we are all railroad tracked out. After that it is back to the Highlander and the circle. We had a couple virgins and some award winners but they were forgotten in all the suffering. The on after was at the Highlander.
556	Chicken fried butt sex was the hare. The hounds managed to find all the bad trails in the beginning of the run. But did make through the shiggy and across river watch Pkwy. They managed to fine the check back and bad trail. They made into the woods of shiggy and the old dump and ages past. Making it through the woods down to the river and hanging a left. The first stop was at the point where Raes creek met the river. Bamboo and beer where abundant. Scaring up many deer, the next trail led them up beside the creek, down the road and across the water under the train over pass. It went around and down the cliff, making its way across and up the water fall. This is where the next stop was. In the spill way of the canal, underneath the road. Many wankers zened on the road, afraid to get their feet wet. We had 2 virgins, dressed in jeans and nice shirts and shoes. Not good for a chicken trail. One seemed to like it, stepping in and drinking beer. The other threaten to throw the plunger into the wood if he had to drink out of it and was indifferent about the run. His girlfriend stepped in for him to drink a beer. Addadicktome kept the covenant FRB award. Bozo brought up the rear. Trail was great(sucked for many) as many left blood on trail for the shiggy Gods. But there was mentioned of not enough shiggy on trail (note taken for next run-CFBS). On after was at the mexican rest.
555	Dead Peter Beater and Pixel Dick led a "Back to School" run that sucked but with costumes........... the run began and ended at the Cotton Patch. 3 beers stops, The Playground, Level 3 of the Canal, and The Pizza Joint Trail was greatly in need of improvement. Lame Mis-Management didn't find the time to run. On-After at Joes Underground
554	The Hobo Hash was in town on the 2nd leg of a Savannah, Augusta, and Atlanta hash outing. Seemed like we easily numbered above 40 idiots braving the 90 degree heat. We met in a new construction site about a mile west of the Fort Gordon Main Gate . Pap Smear was haring his last run with us before he heads to Washington State for a 2 year hiatus. Chicken Fried Butt Sex served as his partner in crime and a crime it was. The run was billed as a meet at 1pm and leave at 2pm affair that turned into a meet at 2pm and leave at 3-ish. The hares wanted a 10 minute headstart and the walkers left in 5 minutes with some of the walkers being runners and the hares were snared. We'll call that a false start. The rest of the first leg of trail was long an arduous. We went through thorns and brush, mud, and creeks, repeat, repeat, repeat. Eventually we came upon a place where trail was no more and then we zenned up Powell road to the railroad crossing and followed it for a while until the first beer stop was found. Many a hasher was lost by now and our numbers were dwindling. The next beer stop was on a bluff over looking Zaxby's which drew a few to wander off and auto hash. The 3rd beer stop was on a hill on the east side of Jimmy Dyess Parkway. Our numbers were much less by now. The final beer stop required a few more minutes of following the railroad tracks (3rd time for that). At least this time, no train. The fourth beer stop was just across Powell Road and within a half mile of the finish. One last deep water crossing and the pack was back. Total trail was rumored to be about 8 miles. The circle and on-after were at Pixel Dick's House. After a noisy and somewhat crowded circle,, we swung-low and then the serious drinking began.
553	Comments from the trail: (Pixel Dick) I think there is a lesson learned here. If you gotta hold circle in the middle of a public thuroughfare, it might not be a good spot. (Can't Talk can barely walk) Can anyone say sucked? My socks were trash. My legs will heal in time. the swamp grass was just lovely this time of year. Kind of reminded me of the Hedon run Did I mention Po Po? Disperse people and do it now. And I was the one who stupidly asked for better directions to the run. What was I thinking. If you missed this run you are a Wimp or just smarter than me. Addadicktome was the hare. It started out on the side of a road. The first part of the run was tricky. It ran beside a swamp and then up a stream. Most finally found their way there but Chicken fried and Can't talk some how found the way a different way. The beer was waiting cold and refreshed. We and the 1000 of mosquitoes rejoiced in their beverages of choice. The next part of the trail went back up the stream and took a hard left right into the swamp. Chicken went first because if he went under the rest knew it was deep. Swamp grass and Lilly pads were abundant( and probably alligators on a hot day) but was not enough, as most ended up waist deep in water and muck. After about a 100 yards of swimming and pulling yourself through the mud, we made it to the other side. Rumor has it hershy took off her flip flops and made it through barefooted. awaiting on the other side was a couple that were looking at us pretty strange and asking what the hell we were doing coming out of a swamp. Anyway more trail went on to the next beer stop. After that most zened back to the start since the beer stop was so close, but trail went on through another water crossing an ended coming down the other side of the road. Circle was going fine until the cop showed up and asked us to leave immediately. We didn't even give out awards and swing low. trailed really sucked.
552	Bloody Stool and NoBaller led us from the tennis courts on Warren Road. Noballer was snared, a returner, and didn't attend circle. Stool was the brains behind the debacle that will be called a hash out of reverence to those that died on trail. We started slowly by wading through much muck and woods. The beer stops were mostly up hill or through thick vine covered ravines. At one point we were crossing raging creeks either by balancing on rotted trees or by wading across the water moccasin crowded thoroughfare (saw one swimming with us). Rain was the least of our worries as once you are wet up to your armpits it no longer matters. Trail had all the imagination that truly shitty trail demands. Darkness and a lack of flash lights added to the mystique. We had plenty of returners and even a tener with Queenie notching run 270. Bozo carried a plastic bunny light on his back for the whole run which was given over to the FRB as the new FRB award. The hash shit also came out of retirement and was donated to a worthy holder. The on after was held at Somewhere in Augusta.
551	The day started out real wet but the RA came thru and provided an excellent night for hashing. Puppycakes and Baglady hared a run that started from the Highlander parking lot. The first beer stop required some uphill and some shiggy and some uphill and shiggy. It was in the Highlander but didn't take the most direct route. Some hounds found themselves up to their asses in yellow jackets. Literally as two were stung near their keysters. The second beer stop involved some downhill shiggy, mud and a bit of water. The third beer stop had some debris, fallen trees and fences as obstacles. The FRB was Covered in Cock who was also real proud of her pink rubber boats until they were declared new shoes and she drank from one. Smoove OperWater who was the Bridesmaid assisted in drinking from the other. DFL was Hershey Highway as Bozo jumped ahead at the last moment. Her stung butt slowed her down. She later fell and skinned both knees to taker her mind off of her sore butt. We had some virgins who continually got their sponsors in trouble. On after was in the Highlander.
550	The Dog Days Hash. What else could you expect besides an intense amount of heat, humidity, and hungover hashers in search of more frothy frosty nectar. The hare, Bozo, started the pack of on a carefully chosen (almost glistening in the sun…fresh…)(blacktop)( to get the pack ready for the gleamin sun ahead). [Head, Who Said Head…I’ll Take Some Of That!] A Baker’s Dozen and a few more showed up for this test of endurance – Covered in Cock showed up with her pair of twins and dragging along an aged returner – Bladder Splatter…after finding the real starting point. Addadicktome blessed us with her presence, even after a sleepless night of drinking and debauchery with Smooth Operator (our indigent and foster hasher from NC) and following in her wake, her virgin, Drinks From His Crack, finally earned enough brownie points to leave his bedroom to join the hash once again. The ever-hearty Camel Toe showed up to lead the pack through most of the run after being flagellantally propelled by his Taco Bell Chalupa Hors’derrrvv-rrrrfffft…ptt. Even Chicken Fried Butt Sex, who even got lost, didn’t get off so easy on this run. It was the dog days. And on was had by all. And as the dreaded dog days go, there was a checkback which some wankers are still whining about at this very moment. And then, there was the…If you want to know more, you should’a cum!
549	Puppycakes and Baglady led a rash from the Riverside boat ramp that was a bit of sun and rowing. As Can't Talk put it, "a three hour tour". The river is even almst too low above the spillways. A half mile north of Fury's Ferry bridge was more shallow than could be remembered. The Little River and Betty's Branch were choked with sand and suffering from no water. The vultures were fighting over the shade.. Notable events were it was Puppycakes 500 hash with the Peach Fuzz and Can't Talk Gotta Pee risked his life peeing in quicksand. The on after was at the Pizza Joint were Pixel Dick and Smoove Operwator helped drink some suds.
548	Foreskin King laid a somewhat less sucky trail than his previous effort as he ran us through sprinklers, fences, shiggy, and construction. We started and ended at the highlander all the while seeing a large part of North Augusta. Pew It Stinks was renamed for her activities on an away hash. The story is hers to tell as her new name is now and will be forever, "Covered in Cock" . CinC for short. Hershey Highway was a tener with 140 runs. Butt Flap joined us after a long hiatus and was a serious returner. On After was at the Highlander.
547	Can't Talk Gotta Pee and Queen La Queefa led the hash from the tennis courts on Warren Road. The trail wasn't like the old days as the construction on I-20 has fcked up quite a bit of the woods. The part that wasn't fcked was taken over by poison ivy and its close relatives. The hares took us on a tour of where it grows the thickest. There will be plenty of scratching in the next few weeks. Both beer stops were in the back yard of Can't Talk's condo (can you say crossing trail). It was debated a bit at circle but in the end Can't Talk even voted that it was crossing trail. We never even discussed how it was a blood run. Lots of teners got recognition. Baglady hit 450, Pixel cleared 300, Can't Talk Gotta Pee made it to 270, Foreskin King found himself at 80, and Camel Toe is coming on strong with 30. We said good bye to Cream of Sum Yung Guy. He is rejoining his children and life down in Florida as the Army is done messing with him. Dead Peter Beater was toasted on her recent nuptials but she is still too happy to notice. The FRB was a pair of over achievers as Addadicktome and Cream of Sum Yung Guy came across together. Mullet Muncher was Bridesmaid and Covergirl was DFL. Mullet Muncher had lost property and drank for his flashlight back. Addadicktome touched off a massive search for her lost car keys. No stone was left unturned except where she hid them (by her gas cap). AAA was warming up a jet to come to her aid. The on after was at the big D*ck.
546	O Bozo Where Art Thou and Hershey Highway led a small but dedicated band of hashers from the Eisenhower Park starting point. Trail of course sucked but it had beer. There was a hotdog roast at the 2nd beer stop. We didn't get wet as anticipated but there was still treacherous trail. The waterworks area is becoming a whorehouse for construction. They'll let anyone fuck it up. The only excitement on trail is when puppycakes pushed on a tree, it broke in half and the top have fell on his head and broke in half once again. He then did the "I'm covered in ants dance". No Name Jessica who had a movie camera just thought it was another guy getting naked so she was not interested enough to film it. Hershey was a returner. FRB was Addadicktome. DFL was Puppycakes and his ants. Bridesmaid was No Name Jessica who will be fairly easy to name when the time comes. The on after was at the big D*ck.
545	Foreskin King stepped in for Fecal Handler and hared a trail from the RedWing Roll-a-Way off of Washington Road. The trail was a combination of good and evil. It had shiggy, water, mud, obstacles, and a mixture of terrain which was good. It had trail through private property, schools, and long distances between beer stops which was bad. At one point, trail disappeared for most of the hounds and some were forced to travel back to start. We had a couple of hashers celebrating birthdays as Thud and Mo Ho were born on days in mid July. Plenty of virgins and returners. Some teners in the crowd as well. Even some lost property. All was forgiven as the hash did a single down down for all transgressions and then headed to the on after at Reinhart's. Cupcakes were available for those not on a diet.
544	O Bozo Where Art Thou and Addadicktome led a nature run from the Savannah Rapids Pavilion that managed to make the poor hounds sweat as they climbed up bad trails, good trails, battled poison ivy, and some found themselves swimming. At the second beer stop Pew It Stinks and Dingleberry Princess were set upon by Addadicktome's unruly unnamed virgins and forced to take mud baths. The virgins performed the dreaded man on man butt chug for their attacks on named hashers. For their crimes their sponsor ended up drinking from both their asses. For their antics names were bestowed. They will forever be known as "Toes Go In First" and "I drank from his crack". The hares decided to extend trail a minute or two past nine and the RA was powerless to hold the rain off any longer. We are in a drought you know........ Somebody was FRB, DFL, and bridesmaid and everyone was wet. We started with four virgins and ended with three. The hares scared one off. The on-after was someplace dry.
543	Puppycakes and Baglady led a rash from the North Augusta Boat Ramp. You missed an excellent time on the River. We had the best seat in the house for watching the fireworks. We had a wee bit of paddling to do but it was pretty easy. Got to ride some serious boat wakes as there were dozens of boats going up and down the river. We did have to contend with DNR at the boat ramp. This was a no alcohol rash but still was excellent. For future reference, night time boating, to include kayaking, requires a red and green light in the front and a white light in the back. We were prepared but more by accident than by planning. Kayaking may not have got us down to the fireworks as fast as a speed boat but it sure got us out of the water faster than a speed boat. They were lined up like planes trying to land. It was horrid as it was amateur night at the boat ramp. We started at 8-ish and ended around 11pm. Can't Talk Gotta Pee was DFL, FRB, and Bridesmaid. Butt Flap showed up and would have rashed but he thought it was a run.
542	Can't Talk Gotta Pee led us on a trail from the Cotton Patch. It was a July 4th patriotic theme and the red white and blue was evident. We even had a sparkler event in the beginning where the last one to go out drank in circle. Queen La Queefa won that and ended up being a cohare at some point so that one backfired on the hare. Beer stops were out in the open of a parking lot , the Firehouse, and Kokomo's. Chicken Fried Butt Sex might have been FRB, Pap Smear was given the Bridesmaid, and someone was undoubtedly last. Trail sucked and the on-after was at the Pizza Joint. Red Velvet Vagina paid us a visit and Bleeding Semen came out of retirement.
541	O Bozo Where Art Thou started a run from Teresa's with the Big Dck. It was supposed to be Fecal and Hershey but they bailed. There were virgins and returners as Add a Dick to Me returned. Chicken Fried Butt Sex was Bridesmaid, Jizz Mop DFL, and Add A Dick To Me was FRB. There were two virgins, a couple that didn't go on trail, a few that didn't find trail, some that didn't like trail, and a bunch that didn't know what trail was. On After was at the Big Dck.
540	Wedding Hash of Under Cover Whore and Cummin On Fuzz in SC. It would seem that Spud's pictures may tell the true tale of the run. Some of the attendees were Pixel Dick, Fecal Handler, Spank My Spud, Queen La Queefa, and Cummin On Fuzz from the Peach Fuzz. Two that have visited the Fuzz that attneded, Under Cover Whore and Squat n Swallow. A couple of notable locals were Jungle Blow hosted the hash at her house and Has A Small Prick (HASP) hosted the After On After nekkid swimming party. There's a high probability we will see both of them in Augusta. The rest of the locals were mostly in Shock and Aw of the antics that ensued after the run. We did a run, it sucked as it was fricken hot and uphill the whole way. A circle with ice to sit on and a hash wedding ooooh and ahhhh over. An on-after at some bar that I was in no contition to drive to (and I didn't). There was food and booze on Cummin On Fuzz's tab, and too much dancing. And finally an After-On-After where sevedral hashers and one fat chick from the bar took part in the cool refreshing water. (by Pixel Dick)
539	Can't Talk Gotta Pee and No Name Jennifer led us on a shiggy infested trail from the Evans Food Lion. The trail was billed as dog friendly but he probably meant werewolves or rabid Pekinese. Trail gave the hounds a view of what trail looks like to Can't Talk Gotta Pee as we wandered aimlessly through the shiggy. Trail was a bit tame to the first beer stop as we could easily cross the water hazard on our way to beer. There were a couple of bare chested young men that popped up from the bushes. It appeared suspicious as they wanted nothing to do with us and perhaps they had dick breath. Next trail led us over logs and through the south's collection of poison ivy, ticks, and spiders. Once again we were stuck following the railroad tracks like the bums who laid the trail. The second beer stop required some acrobatics to get to the beer. The third beer stop was absent as trail led us back along the most dangerous road possible (old evans road/ no sidewalks/ used exclusively by drunk drivers) back to the starting point. John Law stopped by to wish us well and inquire on our health and activities. Bloody Stool and family have returned and he was the FRB. Pew it Stinks was the Bridesmaid and Bone Diggler was DFL. Ouch was once again visiting and Mullet Muncher returned from a long hiatus. We took time out from our busy evening to bestow a name on No Name Jen. She shall now and forever be known as "Dingleberry Princess". The on-after was at the Pizza Joint.
538	Fecal Handler and The Foreskin King hared a run from their home. The run started at the slab that used to be Smoak's Bakery on Walton Way. Foreskin King, Fecal Handler, The More Ho The Better, Surly Temple, Nother Ho, Cover Girl, Pew It Stinks, Bladder Splatter, and Pixel Dick were in attendance. Trail sucked as it was uphill the entire way. There was crime. Bladder Splatter jacked a bicycle that was probably some homeless guy's ride to the liquor store. There was a worse crime; a beer stop with no beer. It was locked in a car and the hare didn't have the keys. On-after was at Foreskin King's
537	Chicken Fried Butt Sex hared from the Cotton Patch on what was his 300th run and 100th haring. Beer stops were at Joe's Underground, Green Streets, Kokomo's, and the Playground. Most of the hashers zenned past the last beer stop. There were some returners as Mo Ho, Colonel Brokeback, and Pew It Stinks were gone a long time. There were some teners to drink as Cream of Sum Yung Guy (10), Dead Peter Beater (170), Papsmear(90), Mo Ho (10), Chicken Fried Butt Sex (300), and Puppycakes (490) were all teners. We were visited by Alcoholiday from Las Vegas and he drank repeatedly. Dead Peter Beater had new shoes and Cover Girl had a 69th hash and drank upside down. Wasted Chub was FRB, Pew it Stinks was Bridesmaid, and Hershey Highway was DFL. A toast was drank to our 8th birthday which was on Sunday. The on after was at the playground.
536	Puppycakes and Chicken Fried Butt Sex led a bunch of rashers in a kayak rash that started from the North Augusta Boat Ramp. The group took a bit of time to get underway but we did. The first stop was in the mouth of Rae's creek.. The second was at the pond at the Railroad bridge. The next stop was under the Riverwatch bridge. The next stop was near the mouth of Rae's Creek. The last beer stop was across the river near the rope swing. Notable events: Dead Peter Beater complained when Pixel Dick paddled the kayak into the shade. Poop Chute Recruit and Stinky Pinky tested the weight limit of their kayak and won. Hershey Highway and O Bozo Where Art Thou arrived in a motor boat. Beer tastes better on the river. The on after was at the big D*ck where salsa and other foods were falling off the table with reckless abandon.
535	Dead Peter Beater and Bladder Splatter led us from the Batteries Plus location on Walton Way. The trail easily made it through the woods that have been torn down since last we ran from there. Trail was hurt by the f*cking distance of the earth to the sun being about 10 feet. More water was getting consumed than beer. The first stop sampled some new highway and ended in a snaring of the hares by Chicken Fried Butt Sex. The beer stop had an odd collection of adult diapers and small children's underwear scattered about. The second beer stop was up by where the abandoned houses used to be.. The 3rd and final beer stop was at Alley Kats where O Bozo Where Art Thou and Puppycakes received free shirts for walking in without sleeves. Trail of course sucked. The hares forgot the award winners and drank for faulty memory. Except for the tenners (Jizz Mop 190, Bozo 120, and Cream of Sum Yung Guy 10), the hares drank all the down downs. On after was at Alley Kats where Pixel was willing the Detroit Red Wings to not lose.
534	Chicken Fried Butt Sex was leading us on a inner tube only Rash from the Waterworks. We met at 11am and then waited for Can't Talk Gotta Pee until 12:30. This was not a bad thing, although it seemed bad at the time. We found that the people going forth with coolers of beer were getting fined by the cops lying in wait. It would cost you a couple hundred dollars, a court date, and your beer to carry a cooler of beer down the canal path. The 3 cars of cops got a few. Some of us ventured on without our beer and found the river to be the lowest anyone had ever seen. The current was almost gone and the trickle of water barely covered the rocks we got stuck on. Dead Peter Beater almost walked the whole way as it was that shallow up to the first island. Can't Talk and Pixel arrived from the downstream end of the river having drank their fill of sweet nectar. The 6 who went to the grassy knoll shared two foot long subs until Can't Talk showed with his hotdogs and wet charcoal.. After scouring the island for kindling, Can't Talk could cook his hot dogs. We then proceeded to float ever so slowly towards the old take out area which is gone forever. There is a dirty path going up along the construction fence that is do-able with a light load. The on-after was at Teresa's with the big d*ck. Thing of note: We talked with some poor folk that were also not able to take their beer on trail and they said they had got a $475 fine for trespassing in the woods between Riverside park and the river in North Augusta. Most will know this as where we end up when we run from the North Augusta boat ramp and follow Chicken Fried Butt Sex. It is the area with the Frisbee golf course. This is something we'll have to look into.........
533	Chicken Fried Butt Sex led us from the Wheeler Tavern on what turned out to be a rainy night. The RA suffered in circle accordingly. Trail had the typical misdirection and even had the audacity to go near raw sewage, which as all hashers know, can curdle beer. The first beer stop was where the ticks live and the second was in the Wheeler Tavern where the ticks still might live. FRB was O Bozo Where Art Thou, DFL was Cream of Some Young Guy, and Bridesmaid was Bladder Splatter. Dances with Balls, Bone Diggler, and Dead Peter Beater were at the start but decided trail was not up to their liking. Baglady was a tener with 440 runs. Trail sucked once again and the on after was at Alley Kats.
532	Can't Talk Gotta Pee took us on a jaunt in our Prom Theme finery. Dead Peter Beater was his sidekick in her platform shoes.. The first beer stop was at the park on Reynolds street that has the odd metal sculptures. The second beer stop had us going through the pizza joint and on to Green Streets where strangely no one sang. Lastly we were at the Playground. We had some teners as Can't Talk and Queen La Queefa were on run 260. Pixel Dick joined them on run 290. Chicken Fried Butt Sex was FRB, Bladder Splatter was DFL, and the virgin was Bridesmaid. We had one official virgin and about 5 trail trash show up at the end. We had 3 visitors. At your Cervix from California, Going Down On Grant from Charlotte, and Emu from Scotland. Going Down on Grant gave us his Flabongo to keep lubricated as he said he would visit it. Baglady was entrusted with custodial parent rights. The run sucked like thirsty hashers suck beer. The on after was at 1102.
531	Waiting on Bozo to deliver the goods.
530	O Bozo Where Art Thou and Hershey Highway took a small band of dedicated rashers (Puppycakes, Baglady, and Camel Toe) from the safety of their cars to dangers of the river. The long one mile walk from waterworks was a pleasant as ever. The water was a bit up from last time but not enough to save the bottoms of the boats. The river was negotiated in standard fashion with all the usual stops for beer. The b*stards behind the renovations of the waterworks area still have left the easy out unusable for the rashers. Since we had to get out past the waterworks, we took the center channel to fantasy island. Quite a few hops in and out of the boats to make the trip. O Bozo and Hershey put a good spread out as we dined on sushi, barbecued chicken, hotdogs, chips, salad, pineapple, and of course beer. The hell to get back to terra ferma are best left unsaid so I'll write about it. It was my personal worst experience to cross back over to the Georgia side. The current was ranging, the paddles were banging off of the rocks, and the wind was howling, all working against us as we tried to make shore. You could paddle against the current but not the wind. Can you say lay flat and paddle. Some of us might have found some quick sand as we stepped into some sand that was way way deep and tried to steal our shoes. Luckily there were rocks to grab. Climbing cliffs with boats are still my favorite thing to do......... As we made the crossing in shifts, I can not verify that Camel Toe, Bozo, or Hershey will ever be seen again.
529	Poop Chute Recruit and his shanghai'd cohare, Can't Talk Gotta Pee started the group from the back of the Athen's bar. The first beer stop was the distance to the front door of the Athen's bar. This is the part of trail that didn't suck. Dead Peter Beater was FRB, DFL was O Bozo Where Art Thou. Current holder of the Hash shit is Foreskin King. Some teners were Argh Swab Me Dick with 50 runs, Bladder Spatter with 20 runs, Pew It Stinks with 10 runs, and Dirt Diggler with 60 runs. On after was at the starting point and first beer stop.
528	Chicken Fried Butt Sex and Cream of Some Young Man started us on a rash that had us parking at the Waterworks and then making the painful journey to the grassy knoll. Everyone blue up their boats in the parking lot and did the drag/carry the mile to the put in. It was as it always is, a form of hell. Water was way down and we managed to smooth out some more of the river with our asses. Some of the chutes were almost unusable as water was not running up to normal levels. Circle was held at the island that used to have our flag flying. Its long gone. We named the cohare-no name Sean to his new and more descriptive name of "Cream of Some Young Man". No Name Tim was emergency named as his careless handling of beer or the total disregard for its (Chub Ale) safety lead us to name him " Wasted Chub" Both hashers were full emersion baptized like the cult we are. Bozo made his usual fire and roasted some dogs. He packs more shit in his inner-tube that most carry in their kayak. The standard get out by the Waterworks has been bulldozed so we had to go past the water works and climb a f*cking cliff with our boats to get out. Kayaks were passed up the sheer wall until all were safely off the river. A sign at the waterworks leads me to think that they are trying to force pedestrians down through the waterworks parking lot where maybe they will check coolers? We of course ignored it. In attendance were Cream of Some Young Man, Wasted Chub, Baglady, Puppycakes, Hershey Highway, O Bozo Where Art Thou, and Chicken Fried Butt Sex.
527	Chicken Fried Butt Sex and No Name Tim led us from the Safety of the Highlander Pub through the crappy weed field that lays below it. The first beer stop was in the middle of nowhere, known only to the mosquitoes. The second beer stop was up on a platform, near the ponds that used to have alligators until man dragged them away. They of course hid until we found them. FRB was Cover Girl. DFL was O Bozo Where Art Thou. Bridesmaid was no name Tim (no relation to cohare). Trail sucked of course. On after was in the Highlander.
526	Chicken Fried Butt Sex led us from the North Augusta Boat Ramp and had us trailing him through all of the cliff trails. Some chose to zen, others chose to slide down the cliffs on their asses. Beer stop one found us down in the small island/finger of dirt that sits at the base of the biggest cliff (near the rope swing). The second beer stop had us crawling over the run off creek and trailing over to the old pump station, just to go down in the pit by his new favorite culvert. The last beer stop had us dashing into the woods bordering the neighboring houses. Trail at this point sucked whatever the mosquitoes didn't. FRB was no name Tim, bridesmaid was Bladder Spatter, and DFL was O Bozo Where Art Thou. Foreskin King received his 69th award. The on after was at the Highlander
525	Chicken Fried Butt Sex led us on a rash that put in at the Water Works even though we had no water to paddle in. We cruised the usual islands and stopped when the current forced us to. This also marks the spot where no name Sean taught his kayak to do an Eskimo role without him. Bozo fired up some wood and made hotdogs. We managed to get rained on so a bit of fire was warming for some. On one island we tormented a snake with light beer. Luckily the ASPCA never saw us give cheap beer to the snake. In attendance were No Name Sean, Puppycakes, Camel Toe, Hershey Highway, O Bozo Where Art Thou, and Chicken Fried Butt Sex.
524	Foreskin King and Pew It Stinks started the merry band of hashers from the Cotton Patch parking lot. The trail of course sucked. No intel as to award winners. This was Pew It Stinks' naming run. That'll teach everyone to not have sex in a church..........
523	This was our 6th Anal Green Jacket Run that started from Chicken Fried Butt Sex's Sister's house. First there came the rain and there was plenty. Then came the getting kicked out of the neighbor's carport, then came the RA's stopping of the rain, then came the crazy lady yelling at us and calling us imposters and saying we should be kicked out. I guess our green jackets looked official even with the sleeves cut off and the hash symbols. It must be our beer drinking that looked official. The first beer stop had us in the Public's parking area in an area known for its drawing of police. The second beer stop had us at the new location of the "somewhere in Augusta " bar. We watched some hashers ogle women and knock out a screen. Mostly patrons were afraid to come back to the back room as we were assembled in our green finery. The 3rd beer stop had us behind the Coconuts/8 tracks/who knows as it keeps going under. Two cops showed up as we were enjoying our keg. They told us to continue to party as they weren't there for us. Stinky Pinky provided rides to the drivers as we all proceeded back to our vehicles and went to Pixel's house to kill the keg and hold circle. Circle was its typical longer event for such an austere occasion.
522	Bozo and Hershery led the pack from Teresas On Boy Scout Road. The first beer stop was behind Carabas on Washington Road where we blended in with other parties going on in that parking lot. The second stop was in the Publix Parking lot that was turned in to an RV Park. The third beer stop was in front of Books a Million and the forth was somewhere on Reas Creek. Most of the pack missed this stop, Hershey wishes she would have missed it as her high dollar trail shoes (flip flops) got lost on trail and she had to find her way back through the shiggy on barefoot. The pack waited and waited for the hares to return and finally gave up and migrated into Teresa just under the wire to order food. Other things of note, No Name Whitney lost her ID before the first beer stop and spend the rest of the run looking. Bladder Splatter decided the second leg of trail was too short so he went from the first stop to the start then finally to the second stop. Visitors in for the Green Jacket Run started to appear. There were no RAs or GMs at the run. The hash shit award made an appearance but could not be given out as there was no circle.
521	Can't Talk Gotta Pee started us from the Food Lion parking lot on Old Evans Road and managed to keep us very close to Old Evans Road the entire trail. Can't talk was wearing surgical gloves so we thought that trail would be laid with care. Seems he was wearing proctologist gloves and we were in for a different journey. First we wondered into some new construction and saw either what it looks like to build a lake or we saw the single biggest collection of cinder blocks. Then trail taught us how to be trains and follow the tracks. Bugs invaded the beer stop at this point. Then we were back on the tracks until we cut across some nasty shiggy and then started following the road to the Pizza Joint where more beer was made to disappear. After that it was behind Lowes and a bee line to the starting point, hitting all points shiggy in-between. FRB was No Name Triscut, Bridesmaid was Bladder Splatter, DFL was Pixel Dick. Thud was a tener with 10 runs and trail was claimed to have sucked mightily. On after was at the Pizza Joint.
520	The First Rash of the year is in the books. First the hare bailed, then most of the pack, then the water, and finally the sun. None the less Baglady stepped up and hared the first rash with Puppycakes as the lone hound. The water was cold, the beer was cold, the rocks hurt our asses, all was well on the river.
519	Rub Me Tender and Bladder Splatter put their co-haring skills to the test and hared a run that started from the Bi-Lo in Martinez, off of Belair Road. The run didn't have a lot of tricks but it did cover about 3 miles as it weaved through the Glenora housing area on its way to Reinharts Oyster Bar. On the return leg it wandered past our starting point to the lair of Rub Me Tender and then back to the Bi-Lo parking lot. Trail saw a bit too much of Belair Road and we did run past a perfectly good Mexican Restaurant on our return trip. We had Virgins and visitors. Camel Toe was DFL, Puppy Cakes was Bridesmaid and Jizz Mop was FRB. Mr. Policeman gave the impression he wanted to join the circle at one point but he let us be. On after was at the 1st beer stop, Reinharts.
518	About the time that Noah was putting the last coat of pitch on the ark, Fecal Handler and Foreskin King held chalk talk. As the ark was floating off its moorings, hares were away. As the earth was swallowed up by the great flood, the pack followed trail. The hares being greedy bastards, threw 10 times more flour down when it wasn't raining as compared to when it was. The first beer stop was at the Teresa's where a girl with no green card checked hashers for ID's. The second stop was at Foreskin and Fecal's home where finger snacks were served up with homemade shots. The final beer stop was at the now open Red Lion Pub. Beer was spilled on the floor to welcome it back. Camel Toe was DFL, Baglady was Bride's maid and Bladder Spatter was DFL. The hares drank repeatedly for their sins. Due to the low cost of beer, the Red Lion was the on after site.
517	Camel Toe and Puppycakes led a very small group from the parking area of the Rapids Pavilion. Trail was excellent and there was more than adequate beer at each stop as it was planned for 20 and only a handful were in attendance. Trail went to the River side of the canal, past the locks, down to the water's edge where beer was enjoyed by those available. Trail then followed the river to the new wooden bridge and up and over to follow the Reed Creek ravine. There was a sadistic checkback that would be worthy of mentioning if the hares had not saved the small pack from enduring it. Beer was once again enjoyed near the creek. The final beer stop was down the road towards the quarry where beer and whiskey shots were available. Trail followed the tree line back up along the power lines and back to the parking lot. Jizz Mop was FRB and Bozo was DFL. Hershey Highway and Spank My Spuds came by for moral support but left to do the devil's bidding (work).Queen La Queefa wasn't feeling it and guarded the beer truck. The on after was forgotten as the storm arrived upon conclusion of the hash.
516	Queen La Queefa and Jizz Mop laid (very little) trail from the corner of Millege Road and Lake Shore Loop. The first leg of trail was a short jaunt into the woods near River Watch Parkway where we sample nasty Bud Light and delicious Natty Light. Trail headed from there toward the Parkway and there was some confusion as to whether id crossed over or not, but finally it was decide there just wasn't any trail. Fortunately we had experienced zenners and we found some trail that led to a beer stop near the Rea's Creek falls. There was significant output from the creek and the falls were rocking. Several hashers pined for their kayaks. The final leg of trail led back to the start. In cirlce we met a visitor, Mommy Hatcher, a returning visitor Schlobbin Schlongus from the Carolina Trash. Cock Block bid us farewell as he is off to Korea to follow his bride, BMW. The hares were aptly punished as were the late comers and returners. Can't Talk, Gotta Pee finally celebrated his 250th run.
515	No History, must have sucked
514	it was doomed from the beginning with it being 22 degrees and everyone was complaining it was cold- Chicken fried butt sex and virgin hare No Name Jo led the pack. Queen and jizzmop turned back and went home due to an earache. Bozo,foreskin king and fecal turned back to auto hash to the highlander. They thought it went there. This left the pack of hounds with no one over 9 runs. One person was on trail but turned back because it was dark in the woods and he could not find the trail anymore. The hares gave up at the first beer stop and walked about the length of a football field back to the beginning calling all hounds back in. In the circle they drank for bad trail, 2 virgins drank and we swung low. This ended the headaches of the hash and everyone could run to a warm place. For those who want to lay trail in the cold, don't.
513	Pap Smear and chicken fried butt sex lead the way on their traditional run. It started out on Gordon highway. It started to look very good, as many showed up on the night of an lunar eclipse. Mysterious things were at hand. Some showed but didn't go on the run. They started with an easy jog down the road and went immediately into the woods. Bamboo, vines and stickers lay waiting for the hounds. Can't talk was the first causality of the trial. His flash light went out. He back to get another. That one went out. He turned around to go back for another and was never heard of again on trail. The trail finally made it's way out where the trees had been clear cut but they were still laying around. So it up and over trees and dodging patches of water. The trail ended up on a R&R track where the hares laid waiting for the hounds to catch up. the hounds finally caught up and went every which way at the decision point but the right one. Beer was cold and at that time well needed. The next part of the trail landed everyone in a swamp. A good foot hold was needed for the water dead and muddy. When the hounds emerged from the swamp they found themselves a housing development that was not completed. It almost reminded you of a lunar landscape. this was the next beer stop and it was help on a pile of rubble. Seeing the hounds were tired, pixel was called in with his lunar landrover packed full of beer. Circle was held under the disappearing light of the moon. The circle ended as the moon was fully blocked out by the eclipse. everyone rejoiced.
512	Twas a cold night with a bitter wind that chilled us to the bone before chalk talk. Despite that, it was a night of surprises. Our first surprise was the new hash jockey box (donated by Puppycakes and Baglady) was finally put into service. It was connected to a keg of Yuengling that made the long wait for trail a little more bearable. The second surprise of the night was a visit from a long lost Peach Fuzz hasher, Java Spooge visiting us from New Jersey (New York City). Our third surprise of the evening was Can't Talk, Gotta Pee was our hare. Therefore, it goes with out saying the trail did suck. No surprise, the first beer stop was at Joes and the second at the Playground. However in a rare stroke of hare genius, we were surprised with an A to B run that ended at the Playground. We circled in the back game room and toasted G and were introduced to three virgins, No Name Dan, No Name UT, No Name Whitney. We punished the returners, Java Spooge, Queefa Sniffer, Chicken Fried Butt Sex, and No Name Troy for shunning us, the hare for shitty trail, and awarded Chicken Fried Butt Sex for being FRB, No Name Mike for being a bridesmaid, and Bozo for being DFL. Due to the surprise ending , we didn't punish Jizz Mop (180 runs) and Summer's Eve (20 runs) for not having a life. The on after was at the Playground where we dined on popcorn and shots and sang Croaky.
511	Can't Talk, Gotta Pee stepped up to replace our replacement hare for the evening and lead trail from the Cotton Patch. Our replacement RA, Queenie did us proud by calling a halt to the rain. Our replacement Sargent at Arms, Dead Peter Beater, hearded the hare into a prompt start and timely chalk talk. Our first leg of our poorly laid trail had us being chased by 5-0 along the top of the Riverwalk. After ditching the cops, we follwed what little trail we could find in the direction of the Pizza Joint. This is where Can't Talk used his invisible chalk to make the Beer Near mark. The second leg of trail lead us by one of the cheapest beer joints in town and never even went inside. We did get to go inside Green Streets, instead. We were fortunate that Dead Peter Beater didn't sing any of the songs she used to dance to. Finally, the last leg of trail lead us back to the start where Queenie lead the circle. Queenie was FRB, Pixel was Bridesmaid, and Rub Me Tender was DFL. Dead Peter Beater and Rub Me Tender were returners. Bozo and Fecal Handler celebrated their 100th runs and Queenie her 250th. We swang low and On-Aftered at the Cotton Patch.
510	Pixel Dick and Summer's Eve led us from the end of Milledge Road on a trail that wandered in and around, and nearly in the canal. Some of the trail was treacherous as we climbed down to water numerous times. No Name Ryan was FRB, Can't Talk Gotta Pee was Bridesmaid, and Baglady was DFL. We had some returners and run was divisible by 10 so the hares were teners. No Name Ryan continued to amaze with his urinary skills. He was and forever named "Bladder Splatter" . The on after was at Teresa's on Walton Way.
509	Can't Talk Gotta Pee and No Name Ryan started us from 11th and Ellis, no wait, it was fenced off, they started us from 12th and Ellis. That is how the trail progressed all night. You could be a block off trail and still be on trail. Trail meandered to the typical haunts as we drank our beers in the usual dives. Trail started from across the street from one of the cheapest beer joints and never even went inside. Heinous. Jizz Mop was the FRB, Under Cover Whore was the bridesmaid, and Colonel Broke Back was DFL. Circle went in a typical fashion until it was noted that the hares were both missing at times to urinate. Can't Talk has a son and his name is No Name Ryan. On after was at the Pizza Joint.
508	Cover Girl lead the pack through the frozen streets of downtown Augusta. We started at the Cotton Patch and ignoring the hounds pleas for an auto hash to the nearest warm bar Cover Girl stood firm to his plans of a torturous trail. After a long leg of trail that seemed like it passed through the north pole, we found refuge from the cold at the first stop, Joe's Underground. While the cold beer warmed us up, present mis-management decided that a round of Goldschalger was in order to keep the mutinous hounds from lynching the hare. Just when everyone's body temperature returned to near normal we were off on the second leg of trail. This leg took us to the Playground. A late comer or two called looking to find us but they never made it in time. We drank, circled and swang low as the run turned out to be A to B. We planned to on-after at the Playground but the popcorn didn't materialize until after this hound left the bar, if at all. Timing we much better at this run as we were back to our vehicles just after 9:00 PM.
507	Queen la Queefa and Jizz Mop prelaid a trail from Eisenhower Park. If that wasn't bad enough they auto-hared to the first stop while the poor hounds had to risk life and limb crossing a major thoroughfare to get to where the hares drove. The crimes continued as we were promised a "Fat Girl" trail but it was not delivered. Obstacles and shiggy abounded. Most of the pack made it to the first couple of beer stops but it was down hill from there. The prelaid trail crossed and the hounds ended up back tracking and getting so confused that many of them gave up and headed back to the start. The topper of all the toppers was the hares arriving back at the start, by car, and canceling the circle so they could not be punnished. The on-after was at Somewhere In Augusta. Those of you that are holding on to the Hash-Shit Awards need to return them as they have new owners.
506	Can't Talk, Gotta Pee and No Name Travis led us on a familiar trail from the Food Lion Parking lot on Old Petersburg Road. I say familiar because we saw very little new trail from the last time Can't Talk hared there. What's worse is it was a late start and thus a late finish and we were up way past a good hashers bed time. About 7:30 the late cumming hare, instead of being off laying trail like a good little bunny was asking if anyone had flour and chalk. Chalk we had flour we didn't so a quick trip to Food Lion fixed that. Then to chalk talk where No Name Travis was forced upon the hare to meet the requirements of naming. Then the hares were off. The first stop was at Can't Talk's house. We found he had a back gate to his fence and we enter through the back door, so to speak. Next stop was across then back again a little stream. Those of us in the back of the pack saw Queenie get wet and then the bone at the first crossing. Second stop was the familiar "picnic area" we had stopped the last trip through those woods. Finally across school property back to Can't Talk's house for our final stop. This is when Can't Talk made the mistake of showing hashers where his liquor was. Those hashers not interested in draining Can't Talk's liquor cabinet followed the hares back to the start. We had circle, met virgin No Name Jo and visitor No Name Ryan, were visited by Columbia County's finest, named No Name Travis Rub Me Tender, celebrated Queenie's getting the bone and wondered where Dead Peter Beater was. On-After was at the Pizza Joint concurrently with a search party finding and returning a missing hasher to her home.
505	It was a cold dark night and Bozo and No Name Christina lead the pack from Bozo's house. Cock Block and Battery Motivated Wench stopped by to wish the pack well but the newlyweds opted for a warmer activity. After a bone chilling chalk talk the hares were off. The first leg of trial was way too long considering the lack of RA did us no favors with the weatherman. It was as a long time friend of Bozo's house. The neighbor even had a welcoming committee for us. The second leg took us even further from the start and we were worried as no know bars were in that direction. Suddenly we were at the former Udderly/South abode for a second beer stop. What we hoped would be the last leg of trail turned out not to be. A mere 30 feet from the starting point we were rewarded with a warm up from some cinnamon schnapps. From there is was a short walk to the start, Summer's Eve was FRB, Fecal Handler was Bridesmaid, and Pixel Dick was DFL. We opted to hold circle at the on-after location, Bozo's house. We rewarded the award winners and punished the hares for keeping us out in the cold so long. We named No Name Christina Airborne Titty Fuck. And we swung low and on-after-ed. Bozo's chili warmed the cockles of our hearts.
504	Pixel Dick hared a mismanagement meeting at the Highlander. It was a night of firsts and other unusual activity. It was the first mismanagement without a GM in attendance. It was the first total revamping of the hashing rule book, it now has a blue cover (still no pages). It was the first run in a while where none of the hounds missed a beer stop and all hounds were back before circle started. But enough of that. Many a hare was raised and we still have a few open dates to fill for the first quarter of 2008. The On-After was at Joe's Underground.
503	Puppycakes and Baglady hared the anal Christmas Run that started from the Cotton Patch parking lot. The theme was a Christmas one and most were wearing some sort of Santa garb. The first beer stop was out on the berm near where Cal Ripkin wants to put his new stadium. The hounds dined on peppermint schnapps to keep the chill off. The next beer stop was at Kokomo's. The third beer stop was at the Firehouse. The fourth beer stop was at the Renaissance bar. The fifth and final beer stop was at the Playground. Some hashers showed up at the Playground that missed the Renaissance bar stop. The hares left for the end at 9pm and waited for 20 minutes before the first hound arrived. after 25 more minutes and no more hounds, the circle was held without the aid of beer. Covergirl was FRB and Camel Toe was DFL. After 50 minutes, the rest of the pack showed up but circle was over. The Christmas Hash Hymnals were never used and Puppycake's 100th haring at the PFH3 ended with a fizzle.
502	Chicken Fried Butt Sex led a small but determined group of hashers from the end of Milledge Road to points unknown. Puppycakes as RA tried valiantly to keep the rain away and would have been successful if Chicken Fried Butt Sex would have ran an easy trail. Trail had to play chicken with a train for a while and then wander around the large ponds that dwell between the River Walk Park Way and the River. We found ourselves wet and trapped beneath a Riverwatch bridge as we waited for the rain to leave us or for Ree's Creek to rise and drown us. Camel Toe was the FRB and Pixel Dick was the DFL. The on after was held at Somewhere in Augusta.
501	Dead Peter Beater and Colonel Brokeback led the pack on a typical Dead Beater Beater trail. The theme was Birthdays and there were party hats and diapers to be worn. It made for a pretty scary sight. Chalk talk had one virgin not learn all the usual symbols as the were no checks or bad trail marks. There was a unusual mark as pink crepe paper was said to be hash. The fact there was no bad trail marks hardly prevented bad trail. The pack quickly found out that the pink crepe paper looked amazingly enough like the over abundance of litter laying all over the place and trail was hard to follow. Fortunately, a hare's flashlight gave away the location of the first beer stop. It was at the Backyard Tavern where all the regulars got to see us at our best, or worst... Depends. The second leg of trail was slightly better as we did see a little flour along the way. It led us off into the woods to a dark and scary location where we all shared a tray of highly toxic jello. Oddly enough, this was the last most of the pack saw of the hares until circle. Trail led off from there and seemed to end in the middle of no where. Some zenners, led by Pixel Dick, found the next beer stop in, you guessed it, an abandoned house. After a while, those at the beer stop stopped hearing whistles and seeing flashlights. Pixel Dick investigated while trying to follow trail back from the beer stop to the last known location of trail. No trail or other hashers were seen or heard. At that point it was suggested we abort the mission and return to the start. The hares were DFL and circle was held. In the circle we met a virgin, No Name Kenny (who the camel road through the second half of trail), and No Name Maggie who had hashed with the Happy Heretics in a prior life. The hounds complained of bad trail and the hares complained of wanker hounds that caused the forth stop to be totally passed by. Dances with Balls received his award for 25 runs and was a tenner with 30 runs. Dead Peter Beater was a tenner with 160 runs. Camel Toe returned to inform us he has moved to town but missed celebrating this at circle. The on-after was either at the Finish Line or Indigo Joes or maybe Mi Rancho. Next trail is Saturday at 12 Noon. It will be at the corner of Millege Road and Lake Shore Lane, near the Humane Society shelter.

The First 500 Runs