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Welcome to September,
Gator is our hare
He brings us wet shiggy, he is so unfair!
With body armor the pack is all dressed,
Snaring GatorAte will be our key quest.
He’ll give up the chain to bring us a trail,
Measuring 5.0 on the shiggyfied scale.
We’ll go through hell to catch his scrawny behind,
If he expects thumbs up; he’s out of his mind.
Repeat after me!
Bless this hare!
Bless this trail!
Snakes no bite us,
Poison ivy no touch us,
Saw Palmettos no cut us,
Vines no choke us!
In the name of the flour,
and the holy run!
Wednesday, Sept. 2,
The pack gathered on the far east side of town (easy-enough to be confused with the Far East) not knowing there would be three trails for the JRH3 hash #491. The planned trail (#1) was laid by GatorAte My Penis, an uncharted trail foraged by Dabadoo was the second trail, and a cluster-f-ed trail ranged by Portopussy and Donny The Retard was the third and longest trail. The clouds were threatening but that did not stop a good turnout in BFE. Chalk talk was given which included flour, chalk, toilet paper and surveyor’s tape; and the hare was kicked out of circle. 6 virgins introduced themselves to the pack and the rain subsided, just in time for on-out!
A mixture of sidewalk, parking lots and fantastic shiggy was involved in Gator’s trail. True trail took us through dark swamps and the Secret Club of the Whining Princesses emerged; no need to name any names, right Snapper and Wanna? Tie Me Down Dick and Puppy took turns holding branches and hands of the princesses through the swamp, which was in peak sucking-mode as I almost lost my running shoes 6,900 times. Most of all the runners made it to the beer stop in an apartment complex and it wasn’t long before we found out we had hash fans on the third floor. While the upper deck audience whistled, we lined up and gave them a mass mooning photo opportunity, and they took it. The walkers had not shown up and it was just starting to get dark as we head out of the complex in search for trail without the use of any flashlights or disco-lighted mugs. The pack split up, as what normally happens when trail markings cannot be found and the surveyor’s tape marking trail was mixed up with official surveyor’s tape marking dead trees. I found myself running with Taint Tickler while Tie Me Down’s virgin and I were listening to Taint’s hashing stories from 690 BC. Apparently, blowjobs were cheaper back then. We eventually spotted some wankers flailing about in the middle of a shiggyfest 169 miles off course, doing their best not to get electrocuted by high voltage wires and digging trenches beneath barbed wire with their bare hands for safe passage. After yelling “RU?” without any response and seeing them hop back and forth over the same fence 1,069 times, I assumed they were more lost than we were at that time. I learned later on that they were the pack of walkers lead by Dab, doing their best to avoid shiggy.
While all wankers packed chalk, only few of us dared to lay pack markings on trail. This was the saving grace for Portopussy and Donny, as they ranged a cluster-f-ed trail from hell while trying to find trail markings without a flashlight. After running 169 miles in circles and zigzag patterns due to endless count-backs and not bothering to count-back the flour (it wasn’t Puppy’s fault this time), they spied a pack marking and took it in to the finish.
It seemed to be a night of sweeping, as the hare jumped in a car to sweep for walkers (trail #2), and the beer van had to be called back to the finish. Apparently, Purple Penis Eater (beer van driver) was waiting for the walkers who never showed as Dab’s “shiggyless” trail did not include a beer stop. Porto and Donny showed up just in time, as we were 69 seconds away from sweeping for them (trail #3). Gator did not have much to say for himself except that he warned us all about the intense sludge we would be wiping off of our bodies with cases of baby wipes; as the knit shiggy socks were no guard against the slimy black crap from hell! The pack was entertained by the virgins which included a song that put us all to sleep, and cost me 1,069 hours of my life that I will never get back. Just Matt received his belated blowjob from the lovely Wanna Earn An A (seemingly the Carol Merrill of BJs) while Semper Bi did her best to shoot orange balls out of the crack of her ass with a loud bang while texting her grandma. I am here to write that it is not a JRH3 circle until someone’s feet are pointing up to the heavens! Rectal Roommate was tied-up for 50 runs and we proceeded to play Marco-Polo. Lost My Balls gave it to himself with the chain wrapped around his neck; his ranging proved to “win” him nerd status once again. As usual, many accusations were put out there, and Tie Me Down Dick received the brainless award for leaving his virgin with Taint Ticker, and gave himself an impressive beer shampoo.
Once again, Swing Lo was sung and we all got a piece!
Jolly Roger H3
of the Tampa Bay Metro Area
Wednesday, Septempber 2nd, 2009
Meet behind the Ethan Allen store
locates at 10015 Adamo Dr, in Tampa, Florida. Its just west of I-75.
From I-275 & I-4, in Central Tampa:
From Wesley Chapel, to the north:
From I-75 an I-275 to the south:
From Brandon, to the east:
From MacDill AFB/South Tampa, to the west: