It was the sixty-sixth running of the hounds, only three more hashes until the blessed 69 (yea, verily, the 69). Sixteen hashers showed up for Stinky Queef’s (aka Stinkman) (aka the Queefster) virgin haring ably assisted by McCavity. The pack assembled in a small park in Rotterdam on a brilliantly sunny day. With Spring just a week away, the pack was surprised by the cutting north wind and happy they weren’t wearing kilts like those poor sods in the St. Patrick’s Day parade downtown. Of course, they were even happier they weren’t wearing a loincloth like Francis who seems to have made it out of St. Patrick’s Day beer signs. The hounds enjoyed a nice variety of beers as they welcomed back Touchdown Jesus and Just Jake after a long absence. McCavity introduced a new sign at the chalk talk – WTFO for "watch the fuck out" - which they had sensitively placed before major intersections throughout Rotterdam. Hares away and THFKAD led Dirtbag, Francis, Sperm Bank, Dr. Queer, Peace O’Chum, Poptop, Touchdown Jesus, Just Jake, Fliptop Fag, Bodsa, Laurel the Hash Dog, and visitor One Drunk Watching (though we’re not sure if One Drunk is considered a visitor anymore) in a spirited rendition of Father Birmingham.

The pack was off at a walk through streets of Rotterdam. Right near the start, the pack was distracted by a bevy of local teenaged girls offering sex for money in order to support their drug habit. Luckily for us, Bockman Turned Her Over showed up in time to save us from a grevious mistake. The pack cut across major roadways and several vacant lots filled with construction debris, which seems to pass for shiggy in Rotterdam. The trail finally led through fields and across a road until the pack found a plastic bag full of beer under a soggy abandoned couch. As we were only a few feet off a city street and swilling beer in an empty lot, it felt like high school again. Many songs were sung for the amusement of Touchdown Jesus and Just Jake, including "Rodriguez, the Mexican Pervert". (Hey Francis, are those limericks in your hat, or are you just happy to see us?) Then off into the neighborhoods and school yards of Rotterdam until the pack split up. The supposedly smarter half short cutted the trail and supposedly snared the hares. The supposedly dumber half followed the trail and found a pickup truck full of beer in a school parking lot. Soon the smart ones returned to the park for everyone to have a beer. From there it was a quick run in, except for being stopped by the Rotterdam cops. We thought we were busted since we fit the description of some unsavory types were being loud and drinking beer in a school parking lot. But he turned out to be a good guy and let us know which way the hares had went. We followed the hares back to our starting point and piled into cars for the on-on.

The pack rendevoused at the House of Stink decorated with memorabilia from twenty years of Air Force adventures. THFKAD didn’t have a prayer of starting ceremonies as the ravenous pack tore into food the Queefster had laid on. Vegetarian chili, Carnivorous chili, Jambalaya, and crusty bread awaited the pack. The food was spicy hot and many hounds were baying and chugging cold beers to put out the fire. Just Dan joined the pack from taking his state exam and Galloping Galumpkies showed up during ceremonies. We cleared the furniture out of the kitchen and despite debating what “snared” meant ala Bill Clinton, McCavity and Stinky Queef down-downed for haring and possible snaring. Touchdown Jesus and Just Jake did penance for backsliding having not been at a hash since AstroHomo's Grafton run. DAL went to Bockman Turned Her Over and FRB went to Francis. THFKAD interrupted ceremonies to share that the website’s picture of Psycoholic Slut on crutches had an amazing amount of hits. Turns out it’s linked from a fetish site that specializes in women in casts, wheelchairs, and crutches. Just Dan and GG did a well-deserved down-down for not running. Hashit was hotly contested by Dr. Queer for not bringing a virgin, Stinky for dropping a beer on trail, Sperm Bank for losing the hashit, and McCavity for upsetting some Girl Scout who saw his F**K YOU, YOU F**KING F**K t-shirt. After a very close vote, McCavity ended up winning the Hashit for whining. Queef had to drink with him, because when one hare drinks - all hares drink. Poptop, Dirtbag, and GG got an extra down-down for having a private party (GG - We understand about Poptop - but Dirtbag? Eww!) THFKAD did a down-down for mistaking the run number and then led the reverent hounds in “Our Lager which art in Barrels…Barmen!” After the circle finished, Sperm Bank paid homage to our virgin hare, Stinky Queef. You can read those articles here.

May the Hash go in peace, may the hash get a piece!

NOTE: After a big italian dinner, where we met up with occasional hasher Wax-On Wax-Off, most of the pack was later spotted that night. Our local Sinatra wannabe, Poptop, had led them out for karaoke for Peace O'Chum's birthday. Let’s just say the crowd had probably never heard twelve drunks screaming the hash version of "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" at the top of their lungs. What memories that survived the alcohol will be seared in our brains forever.

On-On!

If you have anything to add, send a note to thfkad@hmhhh.com.