Hash Trash for Seattle Run #518 – Annual Seattle Red Dress run: Feb 11, 2006 

Hares: Stuff the Clam and KY Poison Jellyfish (with or without the Kung Fu Grip)

Hounds: Bitch ‘n Hoe, Assma, Port-A-John, Who’s Your Daddy, Fish, Boitano’s Hard-on, English Channel, Twatnot, and Just Erna.

Late comers: Whore-a-clock, Rip Torn My Hymen, and 100dB

Disclaimer: I accept no responsibility for the blatant lies contained within.

What’s this?! An actual hash trash? Yes, I realize this is a foreign concept for most Seattle hashers but as the current Hon Sex I’d like to make at least a feeble attempt to fulfill the duty that has been imposed on me.

First off I was surprised at the low attendance for this annual event. I expected at least twice as many hounds to come out in their latest thrift store finds to have a good time fagging it up in the international district. Apparently many of the usual suspects were off gallivanting in the mountains or recovering from the disappointment they felt after the brave Hawks lost the Superbowl.

Regardless, the few brave hounds gathered in the international district at the appointed time and admired each other’s dresses and accessories. No one complimented me on my lovely blue purse. Bitches.

Fish mysteriously kept the pack waiting for at least half an hour as he changed into his dress and we still don’t have any fucking clue what took him so long. There were no conspicuous cum stains when he finally deigned us with his presence.

During the chalk-talk, the hares informed us that we would not be following hash marks but instead would be following a series of written clues. This was a clever device and was appreciated by most of us until we got to the vicinity of the third clue because the clue itself was located in an area that had been closed off ten minutes earlier and was no longer accessible to the hounds. Fortunately the hare had a copy of the clue with him so disaster was averted before we suffered from beer deprivation and no lynching was necessary.

Next we ran through an alley past an underground tour group which prompted a young boy to ask Boitano, “are you a boy?” That young man deserved a cool, refreshing beer for such a penetrating question but on we ran to arrive at the first beer check located at Doc Maynard’s.

We paused for a few pitchers and some chocolate covered orange crème sticks that Fish brought in hopes of romancing some easy action though as far as I know, he was frustrated in that respect. Then on to find the next clues and the next beer check!

After running through Pike Place market and smelling all the dead fish and posing for pictures with Russian hookers, we ended up in Victor Steinbrueck Park at the north end of the market to locate the next clue as we admired the view of Elliott Bay and homeless people. Homeless people are always a lot of fun when you’re with a group of people running in dresses. Not necessarily very coherent but fun nonetheless.

The second beer check was at the Two Bells, formerly the Sit ‘n Spin. I took the opportunity to briefly chat up a couple of friendly young ladies, invited them to the hash and gave them a hash business card. We’ll probably never see them again.

After dicking around at the Two Bells we proceeded south toward Westlake and then followed trail into Nordstroms where we sampled perfume and I tried to get some honest advice about the condition of my cuticles. Not testicles, cuticles. We crossed the sky bridge over to Pacific Place and proceeded to the top floor where we stopped for a third beer check at Gordon Biersch. I really felt underdressed here and was really wishing I’d brought that pearl necklace.

On the way out we had to stop in Victoria’s Secret (I never did figure out what it was) and took pictures of each other posing with lingerie and something that looked like it might have been a furry heart shaped paddle but we weren’t really sure. The employees soon advised us that photography was not allowed in the store so we continued on our merry way.

From there we just made our way back to the start and got the circle rolling. Multiple charges were leveled against Port-a-john and though I’m not clear on the particulars, I’m sure it had something to do with being a poofter and English though that’s actually redundant. I believe Fish got a down-down for having such prominent nipples on display and/or taking so long to get into his dress. I got a down-down for being Twat. WYD and Assma were charged with racing each other up a hill and Assma tried to talk his way out of it by explaining it was no contest. Just because he had no chance of beating her up the hill, his crime was in daring to try for the gold and so we gave them both the amber.

Various other charges were leveled and awarded though I’m too dim to remember the details. After swinging low we meandered to Cock Cock (or maybe it was Kau Kau) barbeque for some beer and Chinese food. Whore-a-clock arrived just as dinner was being ordered. Most of the group agreed to order a group combo dinner but Bitch ‘n Hoe and I had to be different and order a-la carte which everyone felt obligated to complain about but otherwise dinner was delicious and filling. I can neither confirm nor deny rumors that I threw up on the way to my car shortly afterward and even if I did I’m sure it was due to dodgy shrimp in my chow-fun!

On-on!