Date: Wednesday, September 28th, 2005
Start/Pre-Lube: St. Andrews, 44th between 6th and 7th
Hares: Charlotte and Kindergarten Kim
On-in: Blarney Stone Pub, 47th between 8th and 9th
Scribe: Salt Lick (Virgin Scribe)
About three dozen rebels charged into St. Andrews to send Charlotte off with her head. But the Brit was nowhere to be found, and the rebels were getting rowdy.
Particularly peeved was Joe, who insisted he did not know said Brit in question and cursed her for sending him to a pretentious Scottish saloon where he was forbidden from showing off his bulging biceps.
Dont they know I just worked out, he demanded as he snarled at the waitress who forced him to cover up his skimpy tank top. Steam started shooting from his head as Ass Ranger ran inside with an equally revealing shirt in exchange for sucking down half a dozen oysters before his r*n. Hey, a boy needs his protein.
Finally the Brit and Kindergarten Kim arrived, threw chalk into the air, blabbed something about three and youre on and that NONE of the falses were marked, and sent us off into Midtown.
Maybe it was her accent, but apparently no one heard her chalk talk because when we reached our first check, half the pack followed the lead checker in a frantic state as she screamed On one! Things only got worse from there as the pack made its way in and out of buildings and eventually on to Columbus Circle and realized it was following a bunch of pack marks that lead to nowhere, instead of true trail.
Wait, dont leave me! FMIG pleaded as the leaders of the pack ran into another dead end surrounded by bums in the middle of the park. But he quickened his pace as Ass Ranger promised to wait behind a tree for him.
On One! they shouted and Mike, one of the guilty pack markers in question, revealed himself, scurrying behind them and placing a pack mark. Yo, dude! You keep putting pack marks down on on-one, your virgin scribe yelled. I know, Mike replied, smiling devilishly. (This was later deemed a sick offense by a former religious advisor despite Mikes insisting that you follow pack marks at your own risk.)
Finally, the pack decided the damn trail had to head East to the on-in, which Joe demanded better not be the same place as the prelube because they made him get dressed.
Indeed, Blarney Stone was much more suitable for this sweaty group of half-naked r*nners as it smelled of stale corn beef and filled us with cheap beer.
After grumbling at people for not paying Hash Cash, Charlotte and Kindergarten Kim got their Hare Down-Downs. A bunch of virgins were saluted: Greg, Justin, Howard, and othersmost of whom seemed unsure of who made the cum, except for Erins cousin (hey, if you cant keep it in your pants keep it in the family). Of course two female virgins had long disappeared, frightened away by FMIGs promise that they could kiss any guyor girlthey wanted (motioning at your scribe).
Wet Connection drank for getting lucky on trail. She knew the location of the on-in but pretended to get lucky with her checks. Sadie drank for getting so bombed the previous hash she made out with almost every guy at the bar (several hashers claimed not to be part of that list and demanded a demonstration of their own). Booty Call downed some beer for hitting on the girl wearing the Dont Eat Me shirt.
After some emotional rambling, Cockstar cut to the chase and named Karen Z. United States Marine Whore for having intimate relations with every division of the military but deciding Marines were her favorite.
Kyle failed to catch on to Kens hint that Mean Jeans sexy brown boots could hold quite a bit of beer before she slipped off to the Ashley Simpson concert. He also failed to name an AOTW, though he may have named himself for almost forgetting Charlottes goodbye Down Down.
The Brit had hoped to be named in New York prior to leaving us for England, but no such luck. Shell just have to settle for this writeup.
Cherrio, ol chum!