Little Butt Buddy Scouting Trail

OKH3 #261 Little Butt Buddy and the Cuntess of Curdled Cheese Jizz

The clouds where lit in a grim grimy gray , Winds howled out of the north at 30 miles per hour. a steady hard cold rain started just about first beer time and an NCAA tournament game was happening on this night and still a hearty fifteen dimwits assembled in Mckenna Park in North Portland.
 
Little Butt Buddy is a vitriolic voyeur of many vices and, like his hash name, he had a few tricks up his butt tonight. The Cuntess was the sanity behind this two person wrecking crew setting hash in North Portland. When the Cuntess says set trail down a muddy slippery slope, Little Butt Buddy says how far.
 
Gayzelle is a lazy bastard. He sprinted through NOPO checking each false trail but when he found true trail all he had was a 3 inch limp piece of chalk that lasted all of 18 seconds. As we made it over to UofP all semblance of flour was virtually invisible but something told us to forage down the landslides on the banks of the Willamette river. Scrotum Rotor saved the day, for a brief second, finding a sneaky trail down by the river.

The trail leading down to the river was a god damn mess. The leaves, mud and industrial waste was laden with 5 months worth of rain. it was like running in curdled cheese jizz. Old abandoned shopping carts were everywhere and what little hope Spring had of making an appearance was long gone. It was down right cold and frosty. Flaming Fart still maintained it was a perfect day to hash.

Log Jammer actually took the time to put down well orchestrated markings on trail. I actually saw her cut down a tree and start a bonfire so the masses could follow. It was still possible on this lovely day to hash. The rain picked up harder at the beer check but who had at this point really cared. Chubby Chaser eshewed beer at the beer check so we had one sober person in case something stupid happened. Pabst led an enthused shortcut as a select few sprinted back to the car to get the cold beer ready for the colder hashers.

Tonight's winner of the hash was Burning Feeling. She usually runs the hash with one of her bovines canines, but decided tonight was far too nasty for a dog; perfect for a hasher. Half Mind of the night goes to the only hasher tonight with out a proper hash name. He mother named him Christen Christensen He ran the hash in a heavy cotton Timbers hoodie and by the end of the night he weighed in at 404 ponds pounds. He did a down down for that.

The hares also did down downs.  Ironically, somehow as the hash ended it stopped raining. WTF. The V hash could have been a debacle of epic proportions but some how the debacle never materialized. Some wore Vibrams, some blew a vuvuzela and to many it was very very cold. But still a magical night in many ways. A small group of hashers sometimes is a lot of fun. Everybody works together everybody drinks together.

And we ate chocolate donuts.
We drank beer and went home satiated.
And warm again.

Honor to the hares picking this up at the last minute and coming through.

Shitty Hash

Great Fun