ReHash # 231

"The Cumminsville Memorial Brew Hash"

Mt. Storm Park  3-23-2002

Hares: Dah Gimp and Chunky

Rehash by Tit’n n Spit’n (ghost written by somebody?)

Hashers for the Mt. Storm Hash #231.

Anal Vice

Anissa NHN Hartline

Bark Buffer

Beat It

Benjamin Golden

Blue Balls, Late cummer

Butt Digger

Dah Gimp

Damaged Goods

Eats It Raw

Famunda

Fudge Tracker

Gourmet

Hot Tub Slut

Kim NHN Chatman, Virgin

Little Hoe On The Side, Late cummer

Lube My Johnson

Mystic Blow

Neon Knockers

Pecker Checker

Pubic Offender

Scum Sucking Fecal Feeliac

Shawn NHN Loftus

Sixty Nina, Late cummer

Smegma

Stinky Winkie

stroX coX baXwards

Tit'n 'n' Spit'n

When Hairy Met Chunky

The "Set Up"

We met at  Mt. Storm Park for Gimp’s and Chunky’s "Cumminsville Memorial Brew Hash".  I think by "brew" they meant beer but more about that latter. This Hash, also had somehing do with a cow that had escaped from a meat packing plant and had been grazing in Mt. Storm Park avoiding capture. The cow had been given a reprieve and was going to be allowed to live out it’s natural life in a "petting farm". This should be a lesson for all of us.

As the Hash gathered at the parking lot ,Tit’n n Spit’n enterained everyone with some music. It was some kinda punk, alternative, anti-rap, rap music. I do rememeber lot of the lyrics had to do with "vagina" . You’d be surprised how many words rhyme with "vagina"!  I can think of a few.   "Sixty- Nina"...... "Anal Vina"....."Pecker China"  and of course..... "Neon-Whiner".

Others of the hash wasted time dicussing the up and cumming Academy Awards and wondering how HOT Nicole Kidman would be, while others wasted time veiwing the old Sacred Heart Convent Castle which had been transformed into some kinda Condo Heaven.

Finally the Hares arrived and the Gimp immediately wanted to show off his new hash flour bag which he had found in the ladies department of Wal-mart. The Hares spent a great deal of care mixing several TOXIC chemicals into the white flour so the hash (flour) would not be mistaken for, uh............. TOXIC chemicals. It”s all perfectly clear. (actually, it was more pinkish

red).

The intro-circle was opened.and lone virgin, Kimberly was introduced. P.O. made her cum. The hares explained that because of some special event on Sunday, some Mini-Heart something, the trail would be shortened from seven miles to six and a half.  Also, the Easter Egg Hunt was cancelled, but the Used Condom Find would continue as usual.The marks were explained, the hares were off, Smega sang Father Abraham....you know the routine.

The "Hash"

It was a short 10 minutes and we were on trail. Trail wound through, up, round and down to the top of Mt. Storm with several back checks, a Gimp speciality. Trail plunged down hill, through wild shiggy and finally emerged at the Ludlow Avenue Police Station. Several checks were laid around, beside and in front of police cars, ....funny. Here I was almost run over by a car. Where”s the police when you need them?

The trail became Industrial, finally leading to a large circle jerk around Cincinnati State Tech. This fooled no one. The pack split and quickly found trail on the west side. Throughout this time, amazingly, the lone virgin Kimberly was the FRB. I mean completely stiff’n out the trail. This girl is definitely too fast for P.O. We crossed I-75, not in the usual storm tunnel, but on a nice dry, well levated pedistrian walkway bridge. On the other side trail was confused, and again, industrial, but finally (I mean it’s about time) we came to the BEER NEAR!

The beer near was in an illegal dump,....  a hobo jungle , .... a recently vacated homeless hangout. There was carpet , lounge chairs, couches .. very comfortable!  Also,  a variety of cheap beer.  The Hares had also provided security in the form of a Cincinnati Police Officer sitting in his patrol car right outside the dump.  This worried some of the pack....... But why would the police be concerned about 30 people standing around the "hobo jungle" drinking beer??  What would they think, we were goin’ steal something??...............Well a matter of fact....... we did steal some stuff!  Anal Vice stole a lovely print, pleated skirt which he immediately put on to show off how well it fit...... and Hot Tub stole a crutch. Some ambute hobo is going to be really pissed off!

The beer near was fun and over to soon. Pecker Checker and his crew showed up. Obivious late cummers . There were even murmers of auto hashing?   On Out .  Trail continued on and off the CsX railroad tracks, another back check and crossed the Mill Creek on an utility bridge. This bridge was an 18 inch metal grade. flanked by utility water pipes on ethier side. A real thrill !! .....but on the other side of Mill Creek we were finally on the streets of Cumminsville .. kind of a dumpy area. I did find a habberdashery  (hats) with good stuff and an extremely classy coffee bar. The coffee bar entrance was shrouded with a long black curtain. I could see people going inside,  dressed in black ties and formals. .......I couldn’t help myself !......I  followed them right in ... bare chested, ......in just my running shorts.  There were about 20  people, all dressed, having cocktails. I walked to the middle of he room. There was a sudden awkward silence,  to which I loudly announced ; "Whoa,.... I think I’m in  da wrong place"  It was a good laugh but no one offered me a cocktail. Well, ON - OUT.

By this time hashs get pretty lame . There were like.. uh.. checks and.. uh... then more marks, checks and then..... more marks, checks and.. marks. Well, we finally made it to the ON-IN. The ON-IN was at the famed Buckhorn Inn, he home of the reknowned Fish Log (?) and the Cumminsville Memorial "Brew- Ha" Hash.

The "Brew-Ha"

The Buckhorn Inn was an odd joint. A cross between a local neighborhood tavern and a seedy back alley lounge.. Low liights, smoke drenched walls, the moaning buzz of a worn out T.V. harmonizing to the ring of a pinball machine. They had no problem with me being wthout a shirt.

The circle was set up in a back dining room. There was a large table in the middle, perfect for down-down beers. We ordered about 10  pitchers of beer. People quickly poured the pitchers into down-down cups and spread them aroound the table.  O.K., here’s the "brew-ha". Unkwown at this time, several...2, 3 maybe 4 of the pitchers had contained BAD BEER! I mean stinkin’, rank, soured to vinager, BAD BEER.  No one knew this at the time, no one could tell which cup of beer came from which pitcher.

During the circle preparation, Dah Gimp spied  Anal’s beautiful, printed, pleated skirt that he had stolen from the Hobo Jungle. Gimp sald that since he was the Hare that he should get to wear the dress.  Anal asserted that by being Grand Master, he had priority over any skirts or dresses aquired on trail, but looking into Dah Gimp”s pleading brown eyes, he had to relent.. Gimp got to wear the dress to which he stated,  "It fits me perfectly".  Oh, those guys!.

Back to the “brew-ha”. Everyone was around the circle. Everyone had a beer. Some of those beers were good and some were bad....... but  no one said a word. People were either drinking good beer or they were terribly use to drinking bad beer. The circle opened. “Here’s  to the Hares”. Virgin Kimberly drank. Everyone commented on what a great hash she had run. FRB-ing and all that. Then it was noticed that she was wearing a competitive T-shirt inside out. On the inside it said "Cross Country Champion"  P.O. had brought  not only a "virgin", but a "ringer virgln". He needs to drink for that! Then several AWOL hashers drank.

Remember people were still drinking bad beer and no one saying a word. Hare crimes came up. Of couse there were many,  but Neon pipes up "I think the Hares should drink for this beer that tastes like vinager". There was a few seconds of silence, those around the circle nervousily glanced right and left. ..... But no!   Neon complains about everything! She’s a whiner ! She should drink!  Ziggy zaggy, Ziggy zaggy. The circle continued . Pack crimes there were many. They drank. 

After this point Hot Tub proposed a new tradition. (What another one? He”s worse than "Fidler on the Roof".) The tradition was that the FRB , the first in , is presented with something found on trail, in this case the crutch that Hot Tub had stolen from the Hobo Jungle. The found item (the crutch) was presented to Fudge Tracker. He’s suppose to carry it at the next hash and then pass it on to the next FRB, first in. Big deal! When  hasn’t Fudge Tracker been FRB, first in. He’ll carry it forever!

At this time, Golden Showers, who had already drank 3 or 4 cups of beer found a clean pint glass on the table and decided to fill it up. He found a half filled pitcher and proceded to fill the pint glass. At first taste, he spit the beer out and shouted  "THIS BEER IS SHIT"  What whinning ??  What’s good for Neon is good for Golden.  Ziggy Zaggy. But this was not a pretty sight. Talk about gagging on a big one. 16 oz. of the rankest swill. It was almost puke city. The belch at the end of the down-down let out a stench that started to empty the room.

Now the Bad Beer was totally exposed .  People began to smell their own beer and each others beer. Some were scraping their tounges with their teeth, while others stood in a semi catatonic state, eyes glazed over, mouths gaping open. The circle began to disperse  and was quickly closed without Analverseries or dumb ass announcements.  It was decided to give the beer back and renegiotiate with the Bartender. People began pouring the beer from the cups back into the pitchers. But this mixed the bad beer with the good, so it was all bad. The bartender claimed there ws only one bad pitcher in the lot, but we had five.

People began to wonder what the hell is a Fish Log? Could you eat it? Would it be better than the beer?  The "Brew-Ha" was on. I hope no one died. But that’s what happened at the "Cumminsville Memorial BREW Hash!"

ON-ON !