A Less Sophisticated Garden Party

Hello there ladies and wanklemen!  This past Saturday a whopping 60+ people came out for Hash #125: Napoleon...Dynamite?  Hosted at "That Irish Chick's" house, as we had taken to calling her.  But no longer, because she was named that day...which I will get to later just HOLD ON.

See, I completely missed the theme on this one.  I was thinking about CONQUEST and TINY PENISES but when I showed up, the girls were dressed up as Trisha from the movie "Napoleon Dynamite."

Pedro: Who's Trisha?

Napoleon Dynamite: My woman I'm taking to the dance.

Pedro: Did you draw her a picture?

Napoleon Dynamite: Heck yes I did.

So...that was weird.  Nevertheless, we warmed up!  Scrum On My Face led the Father Abraham festivities.

Nora hasn't been able to successfully do the YMCA since that rabid puma fight in which three major tendons in her shoulders were severed.  This was a sick, sadistic reminder of that terrible, terrible day.

Then we ran!

"You have to run now, just...you have to...GO THAT WAY"

OK but really, we ran!

Crossing on red.  All the danger.

Ok, hands on hips, casual yet mysterious smile...Jarred never missed an opportunity to strike one of his professional modeling poses, lest a camera be watching.

Our hares, Texas Hornstar and Texas BJ Assacre led us through the shady and suburban areas of Providencia, up through Pedro de Valdivia, through the masses of confused Chileans (teehee) to...

A BEER STOP YAYYYYYYY

how pissed is that couple to the right?

We swarmed the storefront area of a tiny sandwich shop, angered the patrons, drank delicious beer, and made a huge ruckus.

Alright, check out this next series of photos as we're trying to take a group shot.

it's

like

herding

cats

Here is this picture again, so you can catch a few important details.

gray-shirt lady is having none of it
the guy we pissed off just photo-bombed us.  FTW.

A few of our hashers had trouble running post-beer stop.

How did we not give her a down-down for this?!

We finally made it back to have our circle.

So a blonde, two brunettes and a redhead are at a giant, sexualized, alcoholic running event...
(is the beginning of a joke I would tell if it weren't the truth)

the original Field of Dreams

And a panoramic shot, courtesy of Steve, for good measure...

The circle was long and full of misbehaved wankers, as per usual.  But it was punctuated with some really great moments.  Here's a pic of Curtis announcing to the crowd that they had met and surpassed their monetary goal at Vannie's benefit on Wednesday :)

hoo ha

Also, three namings!  

"I'd cover you with something other than flour if we had my way, so count your blessings you little harlots."

That's gotta feel good.

Please welcome Multiple Entry, Twice Stuffed Potato and Complete Coverage!   Welcome you three!

Finally we asado'd, someone broke Twice Stuffed Potato's toilet, we drank, and we decided to go to....FLANNERY'S!  Oh, you're not surprised?  (Yeah, me either.)  Regardless, it was a great end to a great Hash.  

Next Hash we bus it to El Quisco to spend some time at the beach with Sump Pump and his adorable pups.  Get your bank transfers in ($13000)!  On on!

One Small Step in Poo, One Giant Smell for Hashkind...

To be clear, nobody stepped in poo this Saturday at Hash #124: Moon Landing.  Moon Job kindly hosted us on his Las Condes rooftop quincho for a light, fall-weather jaunt.

We started off with some Father Abraham, as is tradition.

Nobody move!  I dropped my diamond encrusted priceless gold watch!  

Little known fact: Richard Simmons has served as an inspirational role model for Kevin throughout the years.   

Then our happy hashers followed the trail around Escuela Militar left by hares Bone Her Parts and Cumming Up For Air.  

"But if my socks were any lower you'd see my weird ankles.  I'm self-conscious, ok??"

Racists go one way, Wizards go another.

Back at the ranch, Hashers relaxed and enjoyed the setting sun's last beautiful rays of warmth.  

"Duck, duck, duck..."

and then we were really fucking cold.

Cumming Up For Air served as our Grand Master for this Hash.  He did a fabulous job yelling "SHUT THE FUCK UP"

"I decree that all Hashers will be seen as equal, regardless of the color of their socks, the speed of their down-down, or the fit of their Hasher Dashery."

leading by example

Then French Polisher stepped in as Religious Advisor.

"Wait I know I've done this before..."

"Ah whativah, I'll jist pace around in circles"

It was Acting Semen's 50th Hash, which means that he joins the Order of the Purple Pukus.  We poured a beer on his head. It was awesome.

Golden Throat graciously invited the group to her awesome Johnny Depp themed costume party afterwards; the only picture of which I have posted here:

Ray and I call this: Upright Planking.

Please remember kids, next Wednesday night is the benefit even for Mariachi Mansturbator.  Come on down to Flan's at 8 to watch a show and get schwastey-faced.  See you there!