Hares: Rectal Roommate & Casual Friday

After an evening of scouting trail, creating evil CBs and YBFs, eating wings and consuming mass quantities of beer; Rectal and I had a plan for his first live haring, and it was a good one. Not only did we have plans to slow down the FRBs, we totally hosed all of them; but I’ll get back to that.

A very diverse pack gathered at the Green Iguana Westshore; cute little wankers in strollers, leashed dogs ready to run, pregnant harriettes, virgins and visitors. Rectal and I looked around and noted a few of the consistent FRBs missing, so we were in luck! Sadly, that didn’t last as the late cummers were fast and furious runners. Rectal wrote the chalk signs which included a few new ones we made up. Why not? We’re the hares, dang it! We made a FUUFF YBF (because it was a real good one!) and we made our whichy-ways, Ladies’ whichy-ways. Of course, I had a package check planned for my fellow harriettes on trail.

At 7:30 pm sharp, we ran out of the parking lot with a well-placed flour toss to GatorAte’s crotch, and headed south…to lay the first ugly checkback. We were foiled by construction and a “no trespassing sign” but managed to squeak out a CB 15 which sucked the runners into wasted time. Rectal and I waived good bye to each other at the package check; the sad thing about placing a package check is I don’t get to see it executed, but I digress. While I veered off trail to chalk-out my section, Rectal chugged on with his 569 pound bag of flour. He successfully pulled-off the YBF of a lifetime; he sucked all the FRBs into running to a hash bar for a beer check that wasn’t there, it was a bad trail. While Stretchy Bitz was feeling pretty proud of himself for being FRB to the FUUFF YBF fake beer check, Just Debbie was dolling out money like she hit the lotto so the walking pack could grab a cold beer or two. Much to their disappointment, Stretchy was crying while other runners called off the pack’s excitement of a beer check by running back to the decision point. GatorAte cleared the check point in all possible directions; he turned the meager 2.5 mile trail into 69 miles of frustration.

The flour-covered Rectal made it through pacifying nosey neighbors while I ran through a holy Easter egg hunt at the local church and blew kisses to a couple of Tampa’s finest in blue who were taking a porn break 50 yards from the beer check. A little later Sweet I Da Ho and Just Renee diffused that situation with a few gratuitous flashes to the men in blue.

While the pack had given us a generous head start of 1,069 minutes, I reached the finish unsnared but had to hide behind a tree as I’ll Take ‘Em Both was wandering around the parking lot texting sweet nothings. Rectal caught up to me drenched in sweat, coughing, laughing, and smoking a cigarette to calm down so he could tell me about the two civilian runners who scared him shitless. Yep, it was his first live trail where EVERYTHING gets the adrenaline pumping! We wrote “on-in” at finish, dumped our haring accessories, and walked to the beer check to join the wanks as dead hares. I took over the beer angelling position from Just Doug, and Rectal walked back with the pack.

Circle commenced as Fist Deep and I took a pee at a safe spot; which just happened to be 69 inches from a local resident checking his mail. I am not sure why I thought that if I looked at the ground and not at him, the dude won’t see me with my pants down to my knees. Fist Deep did the same thing. Trail trial proved most wankers were happy and only a few wanted their mommies. Stretchy Bitz received recognition for being the FRB at the YBF, GatorAte My Penis was the FRB for both the beer check and the finish, even after clearing every single decision point on his own. He’s such a wiener.

Blow Jobs were given; Just Doug ripped out one of his facial piercings as he got stuck in Just Michelle’s cleavage and Just Renee suffered blow job anxiety after studying every knook and cranny of Stretchy and came up empty. So she gave up and gave him a package check thus finding the whistle, pulled it out and gave it a blow. Then she went back in for the whistle. Wanna Earn An A’s Virgin Andy gave us a joke to entertain us, as did Lost My Ball’s Virgin Brett. I’ve mentioned this before and I’ll mention it again; jokes won’t get you laid. We welcomed visitors Lost My Balls and Y=Pie and donned one of the toddler’s diapers to stop the profuse bleeding of Just Doug’s face. It was a tight race for the brainless award; we had Stretchy going for the FUUFF win, Doug’s bloody facial tear, and Just Renee’s feeble attempt at a blow job. Of course Just Renee won it hands down.

As usual I don’t remember accusations, so I’ll make up my own.

1. All wankers who were hoodwinked into bringing their IDs for no reason
2. All wankers who blew off my suggestion to bring IDs for a beer stop
3. All late-cumming FRBs who gave Rectal a heart attack
4. GRC for staying home to study (porn)
5. The hares for not wearing hash attire and not diming each other out
6. GatorAte for stealing my scribing notebook while I was peeing
7. Me for having a bigger/better notebook to scribe my own accusations

Classic phrases heard at hash:

Just Renee: “You didn’t shower today”
Just Renee: “Cheesy!”
Just Renee: “I don’t do blow jobs”

Instant naming:

Just Doug is known now and forever as Pin cushion

The pack swung and the hash got a piece.

On-On!
Casual Friday

 

Jolly Roger H3
of the Tampa Bay Metro Area
Run #455
Wednesday, April 8th, 2009