Asheville H3

Hash Trash from Trail #13 Red Dress Run

$281 was raised for the Susan G. Koman Breast Cancer Foundation!!! (receipt posted later)

So who was there?

NN Julie     R2 Do Me    KH    NN Michelle     Mount Hee    NN Dabney     NN Michael     NN Audra     NN Laune     NN Michelle     NN Liz     NN Susannah

NN Douglas     NN Jenn     NN Ed     Needle Thruster    NN Jillian    Grandpa Yank My Dick    Side Show Jesus    NN Diana    NN Riele    NN Anna     NN Jennifer

NN Ellen    NN James    NN Sethro    NN Dan    Top Cum    Wet Suits Me    Taint     NN April    NN Jerud    NN Josh    One Size Fits Most    NN Erica    NN Nicole

NN Jeremiah    NN Mizhelle    NN Tom    NN Jensen    Dr. Doolittle    Beer Pimp    NN Michael    NN Renee    NN Jan    NN Sara     NN Igor     NN John

Jack the Ripper (Hare)   OB3 (Hare)  and a name or two that were not legible (Wanker #1 and #2)

    Links to Articles, Pictures and Videos from the event --->  Video #1  Article #1  Picture Album #1   Picture Album #2

AVL H3 Trail #13 Hash Trash  (by Mount Hee)

On Saturday, February 7^th, 2009, over 50 idiots hashers met up for our first anal Red Dress Run. Naturally we met up at 2:00pm because we are raging alcoholics like to get an early start on the day. We all admired each other's hideous extremely stylish attire, chatted, and consumed various beverages before we were directed to get the hell out congregate outside. We were given a chalk talk (not that anyone could see anything because there were so many people), before someone yelled “on-on.”

The trail took us through a number of back alleys and around several blocks, before ending up almost directly across the street from where we had started (tricky bastards). While the bar tenders panicked from their patronage suddenly increasing 700%, hashers rushed the bar, waving money and demanding cheap beer. Stragglers and slack asses late comers also continued to wonder in. Much beer was consumed.

At some point the hares disappeared again and at some point after that, someone yelled On-on. We all blindly followed directions and started running up the sidewalk, now littered with tourists, not sure what the hell was going on. The trail continued to wonder aimlessly, including a route directly in front of the sheriff's office, until finally bringing us to another bar. Even more alcohol was consumed. One of the hares was kind enough to lead us all in a colorful rendition of Alouette, while one of the virgin harriets served as a visual aid.

At some point the hares left the bar, and at some point after that, so did everyone else. We continued to confuse the hell out of tourists as we stumbled around Asheville, wearing disturbing interesting attire, running for no apparent reason, and yelling nonsensically. Naturally the hares did a shitty job of laying the trail, and everyone got lost. Fortunately we stumbled upon some sort of film shoot and were given the opportunity to document our stupidity charity event (and possibly eliminate any chances of future employment). Eventually we got everyone to the correct bar, where many people purchased 24oz PBRs. Actually, about half the beer was purchased by Beer Pimp, I guess because he is such a swanky bastard (no complaints were filed with the hash management).

At some point, something happened, and somehow we all ended up outside running (things start to get a little fuzzy at this point). The hares were to damn lazy to lay a good trail, so we ended up following the arrows across the street to another bar. More beer was consumed, stuff happened, who cares, yada, yada, yada.

Eventually we wound up at the On-In, where we continued to consume mass quantities of alcohol. After everyone got their beers, we assembled 50+ people into a configuration remotely resembling a circle. The hares were publicly humiliated for laying such a shitty trail, sins were accounted for, and beer was consumed appropriately. All this occurred, accompanied by the sound of pint glasses periodically shattering against the concrete floor (giving hashers anything breakable is generally a bad idea). There was a contest to determine the best dressed hasher. Naturally the dog with the superman cape won, (which should probably say something about the state of everyone else's dress) and was awarded the prize, which consisted of chocolates and hard liquor. The prize was unabashedly stolen from the dog and consumed in a matter of minutes by the other hashers (cold hearted bastards!). Those who received badges were directed to unfold them, revealing their punishments. Underwear was shown, tits were checked (and shaken), and several people were forced to make-out. The circle ended with a horrendous melodious rendition of Swing Low Sweet Chariot.

More beer was consumed, people talked, and other stuff happened, but everyone was too drunk to remember any of it. Until next time... On-on ---///--->