2002 BVDH3 Hash Trash


#56 - Shooter and Sniffah’ Birthday Hash

January 5, 2002
On Saturday Jan 5th the hounds gathered as planned at Kmart Plaza in Satellite Beach for the 56th BVD hash. It quickly turned fashion show 2002 as party dresses in many styles and colors began to appear in accordance with the outfit of the day. (No more friggen dresses people).
BVD welcomed visitors Behind Ewe, just Alicia, just Colleen, Gilligan and Garfield. (Rumor has it that just Alicia is looking for a home hash? BVD would be happy to include her in our kennel – woof!). Welcome pups.
S-Wax assumed the reigns with hash cash, Kojak drug out the cool new tanks and tees and with business done the hares were greeted and sniffed for their 21st birthdays (again). A chalk talk pursued and the hares were away. Fifteen minutes later the pack set out with the first stop at Salad Shooter’s mom’s place for an extra credit of Chocolate and Brandy.
After the Brandy and chocolate things got messy fast, the pack was on out at different times and different directions. Short Straw enticed a small pack on a shortcut that took a wrong turn and added a mile or so to the trail (bad dog).
The trail headed south through neighborhoods, east across A1A to the beach, north then west to South Patrick through highways, shiggy and another extra credit (vodka) in the woods near a paint ball course. Congrats to Just Puke (Bumpy) and his fine ability of snagging local fruit to create God’s own Screwdrivers-sans ice.
We were promised a long trail so on-out we went finally checking in at the beer stop and hearing of our hare’s run in with the local constables. Apparently she was auto haring a little too quickly ($ 94 worth).
The hounds found the end behind a vacant building, several strays having to be retrieved by auto. Eventually the circle got started with Dr. Anus having to do a quick down down and off to tend to a patient. The group sang, circled, performed accusations and howled late after the sun had gone down. The hounds voted to put off naming of just Marilyn for another hash in lieu of our impaired collective thought processes.
What a hash! Thank you to the hares that worked hard to make it enjoyable and keep the trail filled with extra credits, twists, turns and surprises. On-out until hash # 57.
May the hash go in peace
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#57 - Edgar Allen Ho's 2 year Analversery

January 19, 2002
The hounds gathered for BVD Hash no. 57 in a vacant field off of Malabar Road in Palm Bay. Our hare of the day was none other than Edgar Allen Ho celebrating his 2nd analversary of hashing. (Way to go Ho!)
When the pack had assembled we had many of our regular hounds joined by visitors Up Chuck F*ck from Jax, Pussy Gourmet from Orlando, Sir Flatchalot and Gilligan from Daytona Beach. I know, these guys are almost BVD’ers, but it sounds good to have a lot of visitors. So, welcome hashers. S-Wax gathered the hash cash and a card was passed around for signing and well-wishing of Indiana Jerk Off from Daytona - who met with a nasty roof vs. gravity accident in the past few weeks. Get well I.J.O.!
Da Ho’s chalk talk was short and sweet except for the bit about wild animals on trail. Seems Da Ho ran across big cat and bear tracks in his travels. It was quickly decided that Dr. Anus and Suckulater would be the only ones eaten on trail as Dr. Anus is out front and Suckulater (in the rear) was the largest, juiciest morsel to hit the Malabar woods in some time. After the chalk talk and group grope Da Ho was gone like the wind. The hash sang Father Abraham and was on-on into the wood.
Shiggy? Who said Shiggy? The hounds found trail and headed north into a large open field that had palmettos, briars, brambles and ankle breakers every step of the way. After a long YBF, the shiggy continued to get deeper, thicker and more intense until cuming to the sugar sand. Most of the hounds were bleeding after crossing the mud and briar patch so numbness had set in by the time the sugar sand and more woods brought us to the fire breaks. BVD has been saddled with themes and highway hashes for a while and to my thinking we were finally back to what hashing is supposed to be, the trail was well marked and difficult to maneuver. The hare did well and lead the pack to the eventual circle on a vacant road out of public viewing.
With all the hounds having made the run, our GM Fireindahole and RA Yanksit took the hash from here and we all circled up. The Ho was iced as hare, Just Puke held story hour from his throne on the ice as the hash hummed and swayed to Kum-By-Ya. We had some over achiever down-downs for marathon runners (Flatch, Pussy Gourmet, Without Socks, I.F.H). The HUYA was passed from Salad Shooter to Kojak for his ‘No Theme - Theme".  Our FRB Sir Flatch was joined for a down down by Dick Sniffah’ as DFL. Somewhere in the mess of down-downs we had an attack on our honorable Grand Mattress by Up Chuck F*ck our visitor from Jax. When that was settled we moved into the naming. Just Marilyn took the ice and after much deliberation, she was named "In-My-Mouth". Now reflect on this for a moment, next year the Christmas cards will be addressed "Bike Bitch, In-My-Mouth". That thought will give me nightmares. Announcements were made reminding people to check the web page links and especially to register for the Savannah Analversary camp out in May. Business complete, the lovely songmeister led Swing Low and we departed to Mo’s for the On-After.
See you all in two weeks.
Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. -Benjamin Franklin
Give me a woman who loves beer and I will conquer the world. -Kaiser Wilhelm
Truly, I have been doing this for years, I just didn’t know it was called HASHING! -Bike Bitch 2001.
May the hash go in peace
Suckulater BVD On-Sec.
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#58 - The Homicide Hash

February 2, 2002
‘Twas an eerie foreboding as the pack gathered for this BVD’s 58th hash. Such large and ever looming questions; Is this year different, would the inevitable finally come to pass? Would a life be lost on trail? Would Kojak come out of the hole, see his shadow and in doing so provoke 50 more years of hashing? What surprises lay ahead on the celebration trail?
The pack gathered with the usual punctuality at 2pm.. and 2:30.. and 2:45 and 3pm.. north of the Sports Authority in Melbourne, FL. Our hares of the day Slow Poker and S-Wax were ready and waiting with Jello shots and lager to prepare the pack for their trail.
Hash cash and Haberdashery business done, we welcomed our visitor Comes-With-Stick and an energetic Just Jessica (the virgin) to the hash. The chalk talk accomplished, the hares were quickly away. Our Songmeister I.F.H. led us in Father Abraham and 15 minutes later whistles blew and the pack was ON-ON.
The hounds crossed the road east into Melbourne Square Mall through access roads and traffic until the trail entered the main mall itself. It seems Delta Dildo had some hashlife-long dream of hashing a mall and we are happy to have another hashdream realized.
On-On through the mall the pack went leaving stragglers hither and yon. Some several losing all scent of the trail. In particular the Bloody Ho stopping in Dillards to make water and leave her own scent trail.
On-Out of the mall and On-Into a crime scene as the trail having been pre-laid was now occupied by the local Constables and Fire Rescue. The chalk talk did not reveal the DGOT symbol so no one expected to discover Dead Guy on Trail. The hash was promptly diverted around the crime scene and the idea of adding the carcass to the HUYA was not acceptable.
At the half way point and Beer Near the pack was in disarray. Several hounds were lost and required an autohasher to collect them and set them On-On to the proper trail direction. From the half way an Eagle and a Turkey trail headed in separate directions. Speaking from the Turkey point of view, we the pitiful, entered the woods and discovered a homeless camp of crack heads and alcoholics (who, I might add did have more libation, lager and vodka than our hash all put together).
On-On to the end and the circle as Just Robin & Just Amy slid across the final water crossing dividing line for Melbourne Village and Melbourne Township as DFL. A speedy Without Socks had finished FRB again.
The RA - Yanksit assumed his position and we all circled up. Songs sang, down-downs downed and the party was kicking into high gear when once again the local constables interrupted the festivities. A neighbor had heard the racket and called in a complaint. No 58 "The Homicide Hash" had more police than a night on the town with Just Puke and Gilligan, if you can imagine. With our promise to clean the area after our circle (Did you hear that Mr. Knight of the Brevard County Park and Recs, EPA?) and to lower our voices, the constable allowed us to continue.
The HUYA was passed from Kojak to Without Socks (again) for his "it’s heavy" whining previously. A spontaneous naming occurred as the pack had knowledge that Just Greg was headed On-Out from BVD on temporary assignment. The GM-Fireindahole could not let our hound end up being named by some other pack and just Greg became baptized into the BVD Hash as "Cock Gobbler".
With a final explosion of the beer cooler, the hash sang Swing Low and parted ways to the On-After at the Pour House Lounge. This hash was most certainly exciting, entertaining and a good time was had by all (except one, but he wasn’t complaining face down in the ditch). A special thanks to the Hares for all their work and extra credits hidden along the way.
A quick reminder for those of you that have not registered for Bike Week, the cost is now $50 each. Do it soon if you’re planning on going so that they have a proper count and enough beer etc.
May the Hash Go in Peace
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#59 - Palm Bay Regional Park

Feb 16, 2002
Hares: Just Puke & Salad Shooter
Hares & Hounds: 23
Weather: 69ºF (With a Cold Wind Chill Factor) Broken Cover
Off into the wild, wild west the hashers we did go. This south west hash took us to the outer limits of our fine county and Palm Bay Regional Park. For those of you who might not have heard of that park - no wonder why. One has to hit Malabar Road and go west, west, west of never to find it. Rumor had it that the trail was way too close to Mexico and Border Patrol. Coincidentally, Short Straw was a no show.
The pack gathered in cold windy conditions. Our hares for the day, Just Puke and Salad Shooter were laying the first completely live trail in some time. Just Sophie opted (?) to join the hounds and not hare this event. Our visitors for the day were 7Cums11 from Long Beach H3. Virgins? We had virgins just Mark and just Rob thanks to Slow Poker. Pocket Rocket came back to the hash after a long (we missed him) absence. Just Ann returned to run with her Anus Doctor, Doctor Anus.
The chalk talk was delivered at a timely 2:35pm with Count Backs, YBF’s, Beer Near and oh yeah, Dick Checks. The hares were then On-Out trailing flour and tissue. Fifteen minutes later, our Songmeister led Father Abraham and BVD Hash number 59 was underway. (Yes, I said tissue Michael Knight of the Brevard County Environmental Protection Parks and Rec. Dept.)
Off into the shiggy we ran as this desolate place lead us to our first dick check and a canal system. Dr. Anus, Edgar Allen Ho, Fuckleberry and Cock Gobbler made the crossing where Edgar’s beautiful new shoes lost that "new shoe smell". In the brush, eyes wide open, hounds W/O Socks and Yanksit had to leap Snake-On-Trail with nothing more than "d,d,d-jew-see-dat ". Rumor was it was a "big-mutha".  
Canal’s to the left, Canal’s to the right, the pack crossed leaving not hide nor hair (hare) dry. Back into the shiggy and eastward we ran as the Bike Bitch’s new battle cry "Oh shit" came to mean "more water to cross".
Miracles on trail. Some hounds crossed the canals and plunged chest deep into water, weed and mud others like Fireindahole, I.F.H, just Jessica, Circle Blow and Ass Packet were able to prance deer-like across the surface walking-on-water. Could this be a trick of speed and agility or just the wisdom of picking the best crossing spot? The Sloth-like Suckulater will never know.
On-ahead the howling revealed that the Hares had been cornered. Wet, muddy and shivering it was true, the hares were caught. Tag and release in effect, the hares were on-out again and we ended where we had begun in the park. Finishing FRB was Without Socks, DFL Ass Packet arrived whining "I hate running".
The circle gathered and commenced in a pavilion in the park. In the absence of our Beermeister Potty, Kojak and S-Wax were able to keep the suds flowing and hash flash to capture the moments infamy.
Our circle was somewhat abbreviated as Just Puke and Salad Shooter had the Barbecue on and hotter than Erector Pad on a Saturday night. Flame broiled burgers, hot dogs and all the fixins were dished up for a great finale to hash number 69-10. Thanks Puke and Shooter. Most excellent hash!
May the Hash Go (To Daytona) in Peace.
Suck-U-Later, BVD On Sec.
Announcements:  BVD’s next hash March 2nd will be in Daytona Beach at the Mayan Inn (Bike Week). This is a combined hash with hounds and hares from near and far. At last count 180+ are registered. Be there. We love Daytona and the DBH3.
March 16th is St. Patty’s Day Hash Number 61. We have received our invite to be in the parade, it is official. The time will be 12:30 in downtown Melbourne not the usual 2pm standard hash time. Get your outfits ready. Green Dress, Kilt, Shorts, Moons, Stars, Clovers, we don't care as long as it is green. The plan is to walk in the parade throwing beads and candy to the crowds. We will have a truck and keg in the parade. Make your plans now to arrive early. We will have a small trail after the parade. More to cum on that. A hash - Get Well - to Potty Flavor. Hurry back man, we miss you!
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#60 - Combined Hash Daytona Bike Week - Live to Ride, Run to Drink

March 1-3, 2002.
Beerlog Friday  03/01/2002 ----Thoughts from a deranged mind
BVD hash goes on the road for the Famous Bike Week Hash.
Geez, this is going to be so much fun, if this I-95 cop will just get off my ass, dammit asshole I am just waiting for S-Wax, Poker, Short Straw and Shooter to catch up. Ah, crap there they go.. now they are ahead of me…This cop is a prick.
Ah it’s the Mayan Hotel, nice enough, not too shabby… BVD is piling in by the car loads.  Group grope in the lobby.. bags tossed in rooms.. off..into Gilligan’s bar. First Pitcher.. All is well, damn a lot of hashers come to this event.. 6 pitchers later.. 47,000 horny hashers in a bar that is 12x12. Ah, ha ha..ha ha .. Slow Poker is trying to get Bike Bitch to give Arithmadick head.. just cause he looks lonely.. (Bike Bitch ponders the thought). Time for my move on I-M-M… "Nice new shoes In-My-Mouth, (she says something about - they are expensive and she is not drinking out of them.) Fire and Yanksit call from the cell phone on the highway.. He is screaming.. "Drive…Drive like the wind…they are already drunk"…2 pitchers later.. Fire and Yanksit are in the bar.. fricken time warp driving.. or hash experience… 6pm Check In, pick up hash stuff and get arm banded. Cockpit and Crotchduster are here.. oh there is Just Puke.. Who the hell is Puke’s date? Susan? She is beautiful.. (6 erections are duly noted)… He sure as hell upgraded dates after his stay in the pen… Kojak piles in with Garfield from the White House Hash…. Hey Mullet and Hoosier are here. Gamey Gonads is looking fine with her new hair cut. Ass Packet and Circle Blow are deeper in a hole than Puxatawny Phil and wont come out of their room. A lot of screaming and moaning, I wonder if they are ok? Make a deal with Shooter to hide me if I get foolish and have sex with a hog.. God I want sex with a hog or well.. anyone really.. 9pm.. the hash… the trail.. begin.. I think.. it’s blurry.. Off to Robby’s….Doofus White Boy.. All plaid.. All the time.. Hey it’s a look. Is the alcohol fucking with my head.?. I think Cockpit’s panties just shocked me.. Her eyes are glazed over.. something aint right. in that girl’s panties.. it just aint natural… damn Puke’s date is fine.. let’s kill him and take her… I go for beer, kiss the fat girl at the bar and wonder how she lost her teeth. Who is this Bike Chick trying to pick up Fire.. she’s straight chick, I say.. and she is our GM (I slur it and don’t sound very convincing).. But you know.. it would be cool to watch.. .. fade to black… or did I pass out.. ..no that’s right.. Medical Advice: 2am french fries will not stop you from throwing up.
Beerlog Saturday 03/02/2002
7:30am Eyes open. Am I dead?.. Shooter is awake, is that Doofus on the floor? What happened, how did I get here…3 hours sleep. Why am I sleeping with these beer cans? No sex, hashing sucks. 10am breakfast.. no one is cheerful except Kojak and Garfield.. seems they didn’t hit it balls to the wall like everyone else. Fuck age and wisdom.. 10:30 Holy shit it’s time for the hotel Bloody Mary room crawl.. Yes you can get 100+ hashers in a hotel room if you offer free alcohol. I will share that in every room in the crowd of legs and arms and asses.. when I pried myself to the table of drinks.. White House - Garfield—friend of Kojak.. was already there.. smiling.. cocktail in hand… experience wins again. People cross Europe in a train faster than the Mayan elevator can get to the sixth floor when you have to poop. Haberdashers begin their haberdashery.. No I aint GOA’N....it’s a war zone.. I need more beer… Oriental Princess and that guy from Alabama that sells all the hash stuff are so proud of their wares, especially the nice big hash flag. "I sell youu – ate-teen doll-ars. no make mon-ey, ah-reedy roose money on tatoos – sell at cost, sell at cost." They are GOA’N.
2pm A sea of the coolest Orange Hash Shirts gather and the pack is On-Out north on the beach. Our hare "Thor" is well prepared and leaves plops of white flour every 100 feet.  (…No Michael Knight here, different county, no author-i-tay) The pack of 280+ or so hounds are led to the east end of main street. Orange shirts, orange mugs and a pooping pig key ring in tow. The excitement gathers, police block the street and ON-ON the pack takes to the street bikers hollering, whistles blowing, flags waving. A truly amazing moment in hashtory. Kindred spirits we, running, whistling and having a great time being us. On-On across the bridge where for the second time in BVD hashtory. lightening struck twice.... Dead Guy On Trail. DGOT - as the bridge gate clips a non-hasher and sends him to heaven (but he went the other way). Head, who said head. The pack swung north across the bridge and came to a beer stop just past the Outlaws Club House. On-On - Next a long way to a deck bar at a yacht club. Much, much, much beer had been set up for the hash and we took good advantage of the abundance. Sir Flatchalot running crowd control broke up the BVD click and sent us to mingle with strangers. An exciting Wave-Game-Show-Your-Tits-and-Dicks-Hokey-Pokey ensued. Kiddie Porn does a hell-of-a-good wave. On-Out we went to our next stop at the Love Bar. Strange monkey love I am guessing. Never the less more alcohol and laughter. Salad Shooter lost her duct tape shoes and In-My-Mouth’s new expensive shoes lost that "new shoe smell" (she puked on ‘em) sshhh that’s a secret. Rumor had it that Poker and S-Wax were attempting friskiness in the corners. Must have been the karma of the Love Bar. No love was to be had when the Oriental Princess’s Hash Flag went missing… "Some-run take my frag.. dey take my frag.. my frag, my frag.." she screamed.. Now since this was a gay bar and since we were drinking - it sounded more like someone was offering up their fag.. so no one paid much attention…and talked amongst ourselves. On-Out we went over the bridge and returned to the hotel. A good hash complete with new love stories, dead guy on trail, bad break ups, monkey love and lost frags. Time for a shower and a night on the town.  In biker leathers. All night partying into the weeeeeee hours.
Beerlog Sunday  03/03/2002
Awake 8:30, 9:30, 10:30, 11:00 crawl to beer truck, suck on nozzle like a snorkel until the pain stops. Yanksit is peddling Goody’s powders pool side like crack to a $3.00 whore. At 1:00-ish the hash gathered sang a great "Are we all happy - You bet your ass we are! Doodley doodley.." and we were on-out to the Adam’s Mark Bierkastel Festhaus for the hangover hash. A quick halt came to many hashers as the Mayan threatened towing cars if they were not removed.
I will offer that at last count, I think 17 BVDH3 hounds were in attendance. A great showing! Our most humble appreciation goes to the many folks that worked their asses off to organize and conduct the Daytona Bike Week Hash. We cannot begin to thank you for all you did to make it a great weekend and keep everything flowing. On-Out for another year. We hope to see you all in BVD.
*A disclaimer - All or some or none of this trash may have or have not occurred. Some of the names may have been changed or embellished entirely. Some may have been left out unintentionally. Perhaps no one was seen screwing on a balcony, um.. no that really happened.. AS I SAID IN THE BEGINNING .. these were thoughts from a deranged mind.
Until later. A drink to "G".
May the hash go in Peace
Suckulater, BVD On-Sec.
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#61 – St. Paddy’s Day Parade/Hash/Street Party

March 16, 2002
When Irish Eyes are Smilin’ They are Sure to be knowin’ that BVDH3 is Cummin’ to Hash.
Green eyes, Green dresses, Green kilts, Green hats, Green skirts, Green beads, Green shoes, Green hair and one Kelly Green beard; the hounds began to gather behind the EATZ restaurant on SR 192 New Haven Ave. in Melbourne.
Virgins? We love virgins. And did we have Virgins! Just Ken, Just Shawn, Just Heidi, Just Stacy, Just Jill, Just Becky, Just Cory, Just Shane, Just Margaret, Just Tania, just get out your money and check in pups, the hash is about to begin.
At 12:30 prompt, the keg was tapped. The pack arrived slow at first then stragglers kept cumming in off the street.  T’was not but 1:00 when the bus from Casa de’ Bitch arrived and added to the pack this week’s out-of-town hashers; Sir Flatulot, Gilligan, Watch-Em-Wiggle, Bag Lady, Brown-Eyed-Monkey-Lips, Four Score, MP2, Way Beyond and Wet Dream were all sniffed and welcomed to BVD.
Our hash cash S-Wax performed her mismanagement duty and gathered that green that makes our bills and fills our glasses.. (so we can drink and fall and bust our a****). Each hound arrived with candy and Suck-U-Later took charge of issuing beads, beads, beads for throwing.
We lined up in position behind the Fire Engines as the parade began to get organized. Just Shawn volunteered to be our truck driver and followed close in by the engines. The lazy dogs piled aboard the truck for an easy ride down the parade route. Hoosier Daddy and Mullet arrived and fell in with BVD at the starting point. The BVD banner and flags were waving fine proud as the bag pipes sounded and first motions of the Meg O’Malley’s St. Patrick’s Day Parade was ON-ON.
Now the key to life and power is not money. It is not fast cars, boats or material possessions. It is not fighter jets or massive armies. The key to ultimate power over the sum total of the universe is one thing and one thing only;
Like crack heads they screamed and shouted in torment. Little old ladies with a kindly smile would yell (fu*k!) if she missed a strand that was caught by a child in a carriage.
Grandfathers would rip them from the hands of their grandchildren. Make no mistake, the power of the bead is a mighty force. More beads will be needed next year as those of us that prematurely beadulated had no beads to throw when the crowds were thickest. Beads and beer, Beer and Beads the parade route we did go.
ON-ON we went with the crowds cheering. The end of the parade signified the start of the trail. The keg was now floating which means in 1.5 miles we had consumed an entire keg o’ the purest gold lager. In short, the pack a gleeful smile on their faces, roses in their cheeks and twinkles in their eyes. Just Puke had also provided a fine extra credit jug o’ yucca for our drinking pleasure.
Our hash flash in stealth Dick Sniffah’ appeared from a side street.  A quick group grope was formed and flashes flashed before the pack was again ON-ON to the trail. Our hares of the day were Just Puke and Yanksit. Around and around we would wind until discovery of the Green House and On-In to Beer Near. Thank "G" for the Beer Near as it had been at least 45 steps since we finished off the last bit from our drinking vessels.
The hash was foggy from this point on and details are sketchy at best. The Suck-U-Later Secret Pocket Recorder had a single recorded message the following day. The voice was our own Without Socks and I quote "Ooo thaz yur recorder thing, lemme leaf a messaj. Um Witout Sox haz a big dick, yah, tell em that."
After or before the next bar, we were at the half way point. It was outside and we were drinking those evil, wonderful, evil, wonderful Apple Pie Shots. ON-ON to somewhere else.
My black-out period lightened up when we entered Big Al’s. I seem to remember that Sir Flatulot was under the pool table grabbing at ankles or trying to get up or dying, again, I am not sure. Wiggles apparently had sex on top of the pool table with Suck-U-later, although the stickiness might have been from spilled Apple Pie Shots and not good loving.
Yanksit our esteemed RA stood on the bar or a stool to make announcements. This was the 1 year analversary for Salad Shooter, Dick Sniffah’, S-Wax and Just Dennis. (Just Dennis wore a smart green frock to celebrate). They all did down-downs. Slow Poker was celebrating his 25th Run and he did a down down down down down down get out.
We had a few too long in between hashes: Hoosier, Mullet, Moaner Boner, Red Hot Anal Pepper, Crusty Cream, Sperm Aid, Just Dennis, Potty Flavor, Erector Pad and Ass Squealer. Kojak celebrated his 50th BVD run while Slow Poker drank to his 25th.
Down Downs being complete and the day’s hash cash exhausted the pack headed On-Out to Meg’s for Irish Whiskey and Cheer. Hounds went left, hounds went right and the pack dispersed.
The ON-After returned to the "Little-Gay-Cottage" of our Bike Bitch for a naked party in the Orgasmatron.
No. 69-8 was a hash to remember. We made our Virgin’s laugh and sing. We made our fabulous pack of hounds drunk and silly. Just Puke and Yanksit did a super job of Haring this special event. What I remember was awesome. Thanks to you all. Thanks to those of you that were too long away and to you Virgins for being brave enough to last most of the day. We hope to see you all in two weeks.
Note: Our own Bloody Ho tripped after Meg’s and fell upon her arm. It is broken and yet she put off the hospital until after a good Sunday breakfast with the Hashers to close the weekend out. As you all know: "You cant keep a good Ho Down"!
May the Hash Go in Peace
Suck-U-Later BVDH3 ON-Sec
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Here's a couple of additional thoughts from Watch'emWiggle…
Short Straw, sorry I couldn't shake off my "nap" to come back out and play when you got there, but thanks for coming in to say hi.
Shooter, Puke and Sir F…you were lovely bed partners and I had a grand time. Wooooohooooo!!
BB, thanks for the space in the Palatka Presidential suite, complete with pillow mints. You are the man… You only loose supreme host points for getting drunk and driving off and leaving my ass downtown looking for you
Uhhh, I vaguely recall being molested on the pool table. Upon sobering up I've got ball shaped bruise on my ass and one on my back…So I guess it really happened?
Of all the strange and interesting comments that have been made about my breasts over the years. Yanksit's comment becomes my favorite. "In the event of a hot tub emergency, Wiggles' breast will be used as a floatation device."
Now while I was "napping" (passed out, whatever) what was Sox doing dancing around in nothing but my necklace?
Did anyone else notice Sir F underneath the pool table? He swatted at my ankles and scared the hell out of me, I almost dropped my beer, that's gotta be a down-down…
Once again IFH, thanks for forgiving me for almost killing you.
And thank you Slow Poker for running interference for us, you made the rest of us look fairly calm and sober….;)
As many clothes and stuff as were left at The Little Gay Cottage, I just want to know, how many people just walked to their cars and drove home naked?
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#62 - BVDH3 / DBH3 1st Anal Interhash

March 30, 2002
The Hash started out at the Malabar Post office, where much to our delight we had some unexpected "too long betweener's"...nice to see you out again Moaner Boner, Potty Flavor, Cock Gobbler and Fatty!!!! Oh, can't forget our hares, Just Puke and Sir Flatulot (Fatty).
We had 25 fantastic hashers...very nice to see some virgins: Just Jacques, Just Sharilyn and Just Tanya (who really was a virgin at St. Patty's day but oh well...) and visitors, Fu*king Goofy (OH3), Way beyond Gay (or was that way gay?!), Speedy, and Gilligan (is Gilligan really a visitor?!)
Okay now down to the good stuff...after consuming some beverages and a lovely rendition of Father Abraham lead by our wonderful Song Miester, IFH, everyone was on out...rumor has it at the beginning we had some unhappy cattle...Just Robin suggested that the hares, Puke and Fatty, may have stopped to fornicate with them?! Since I didn't do trail I only know what I heard...so here goes...
Fatty told Puke no way would BVD do the water crossing especially after they had seen a gator and water moccasin's but Puke insisted on doing it anyway...long story short, Edgar Allen Ho was the only person other then Puke that actually saw the crossing, Puke got lost on his own trail (had to find his trail to get back out) and got snagged by both Edgar and Gilligan...speaking of Gilligan, who got lost on trail...Fatty saw Gilligan, thought he was caught, even was polite enough to wave to Gilligan (but yet Gilligan stayed lost - I don't understand that)...We almost had to send out a search party for Puke since just about everyone was On-In before he even made it to the end, but low and behold he finally came straggling in... ...and covered with mud no less!
We had a lovely little dog fest with Sophia, Joe and Buddy joining the hash for this week...the keg was tapped and eventually the circle started...Down-Down's for the hares (great job), then Erector showed up so we did a quick swing-low fake out, then it was the "out of towner's" followed by the "too long betweener's"....welcum back Lollipop, Moaner Boner, Potty Flavor & Cock Gobbler... The FRB's - IFH and Dr. Anus &  DFL - Bike Bitch, a special down-down for Biker Frank (Erector's Biker friend)......we also had a naming...it took a good 30 minutes or so and we had lot's of good names tossed out, such as...Call Girl, Poke-her-hiness (or something like that), etc...Just Jessica was finally named....Zam-Bone-Me . This was due to the way she gyrated on, and cleaned the ice as she waited for the pack to cum up with a name everyone could agree on. ....Welcum to BVD Zamboneme...now that you are named, will Thorin come out and PLAY??? Our Hash Horn lost his horn... ...again! and had to do his down-down out of it! The HUYA was passed to Just Puke for being snared twice in almost as many runs and for getting lost on his own trail. There seemed to be a lot of head (Head! who said head...) gear in the circle... ...a little respect please!
I think there were a few more down-downs after that but I don't recall, then just as I was getting all excited that my sensitive butt hadn't been on the ice, it happened...Yanksit called me onto the ice (for what, I had not a clue), I thought for sure it was going to be a unemployment down down, but nope...he turned the circle over to Slow Poker (what was he thinking)....as Slow Poker got down on his knee and popped the question...and me, being the cold hearted bitch that I am, knowing that his fear was that I would say no...stopped and thought about the question...hmm, what should a girl do?!?! tick, tock, tick, tock...let's see, unemployment, he said I don't really have to work...I would be a fool to say NO...but then again, you have the St. Patty's day hash...oh heck, how could I say no to the man...so, of course I said YES, and his ass best get on that ice with me! So, now we belong to a small and special hash group along with Yanksit and Fire...we are one of few couples crazy enough to get engaged in the circle...but hey, aren't we all family?!
Speaking of family...cuming soon to a hash near you...A HASH FAMILY WEDDING, with Papa Kojak officiating (don't know when but eventually)...Oh, then the circle ended, we finished the keg and everyone dispersed... ...we understand the Gay Cottage was hopping well into the night!
A final thought, it was really great seeing the hashers come back who have been gone for so long, Moaner and Potty...  we would love to see Hoosier, Mullet and Red Hot back again too....I know I can't compare to Suckulater, but hey, you don't like it...do it yourself...Sucky we missed you... We Hope You Got LUCKY????I ALMOST FORGOT THE MOST IMPORTANT THING...Sucky, your Hash flag arrived in GRAND FASHION at the end of the circle, entering the parade grounds prominently displayed from its captors vehicle. He said that since you didn't care enough to come and get him, he is not sure he wants to come back home......better be getting that porn channel?!
Love ya - S-Wax
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#63 - Rollins College

April 13, 2002
The pack gathered Saturday at Rollins College in Melbourne for yet another running of the BVD Hash House Harriers. We were a smaller than normal pack of hounds this week as half of the pack were away at various events, business or on holidays.
The BVD Hash Cash gathered the green and checked everyone in. Kojak was away so no haberdashery was sold this week. However, "G" was good to us and sent BVD new virgins (just Rob, just Kathy and just Thorin) for this the 63rd running. Our visitors Doofus White Boy and Watch ‘em Wiggle also came from north and west Florida to complete the group.
Our hares for the day Yanksit and Edgar Allen Ho prepared for the live trail while sniffing and greeting our virgins. A quick chalk talk later the hares were on out to the north of Rollins.
Our GM Fireindahole on post surgery light duty showed up and sat quietly monitoring the activities of the group. Doofus White Boy started a few antics and made the introductions around perking up the pack. With our songmeister I.F.H. away Suckulater and Watch-em-Wiggle led the pack in Father Abraham.
With 14 or so minutes having passed and an anxious pack, our ever growing car hashing group mounted their cars, our walkers were on-out walking, the sprinters were away sprinting. BVD hash no. 63 was On-Out to the trail.
Our hounds were On-Out from Rollins, passed a Land Yacht Harbor and directly On-Into the shiggy as this was a trail with few sights of civilization. Could it be possible that the lead for the first few blocks was Stumbelina and S-Wax by the old sneaky secret walking off and getting a jump on the pack trick? Welcome back to the hash Stumbelina (Thank "G" for daylight savings time and the return of our own always smiling, tanned busty blonde). You gotta love this chick!
Bike Bitch and Suckulater were briefly ahead of the pack until the first major turn when the wind from the big dogs Sir Flatchulot, Salad Shooter, Doofus and Dr. Anus blew passed. Ok, so eventually everyone blew passed, but hell we were old and winded early.
On past a paint ball range and a few Rednecks until luck strikes on trail and having thought they were behind and alone, we approached Zam-Bone-Me squatting on trail. Just Thorin attempting to cover her private parts, no we didn’t look. (Anyone believe that? I tried to sound convincing.) Hint: Poop on trail.
On-On to heavier shiggy where hounds were running quickly in all directions. Sir Flatch, Just Puke, Dr. Anus, Just Rob, Just Kathy, just Thorin, Salad Shooter, Zam-Bone-Me, Doofus White Boy, Suckulater and Bike Bitch had all lost trail and were frantically running back and forth and over and through and around the woods sniffing for trail.
From deep in the wood came some laughter, some cursing and a few memorable lines, such as:
"I told you not to follow fucking Puke!" -Sir Flatchulot.
“Are you sure there are not spiders in these woods, I don’t like spiders you know, they told me their wouldn’t be spiders". -Bike Bitch
"Are we ranging now, what the hell, let’s just range" - Just Puke
"This is funny, we will come back even if Katie isn’t here." -Just Kathy
"No really, it looks like maybe they crawled under this palmetto here"-Zam-Bone-Me
After a few minutes and 47 miles covered back and forth in a one-block area, the pack got the scent and On-On they went to the Beer Near and the half way. A surprise of old past hash skunk ass beer and cheesy-poofs awaited the hounds at the half way. MMM-mmm-good (NOT).
On-out and On-into the shiggy and a few water crossings until the pack came to finding the On-in and the circle in an Industrial area off Digital Light Boulevard. FRB for the day was Dr. Anus and girlfriend of Dr. Anus (whose name I have forgotten). Doofus White Boy who had ranged off into the deep shiggy alone, somehow appeared at the circle in third or fourth or fifth place. His secret? "I dont know, I am hash-tactical and it works"—Doofus
The wait begins. We tapped the keg and waited, and drank, and waited for signs of life to emerge from the shiggy. By name Stumbelina and Slow Poker were now considered lost on trail. A few more beers and the roar of a Harley revealed Surf with Stumbelina on the back. The good hasher from the past rescued Stumbelina and sent S-Wax to retrieve Poker (our DFL) by car from the wood.
When all hounds were retrieved, Yanksit called the circle together and down-downs began. Dr. Anus and girlfriend for FRB, Slow Poker for DFL, Hares Yanksit and the Ho for the trail, Surf for too long between hashes, our virgins Just Kathy, Just Rob and Just Thorin shy and shaking dropped their drawers and sat on ice like new pups!  We had two folks celebrating their 25th hash with BVD - Potty Flavor and Stumbelina. The Huya passed from Just Puke to Zam-Bone-Me.
With business done, we had a moment of silence and prayer for our dear hashing family I.F.H. and Without Socks. The father of I.F.H. was involved in a bad accident out of state as our hash began and our most positive prayers and energy are sent to him and our friends. We will keep them in our thoughts and hearts during this hard time of recovery.
To our hares for the day Yanksit and the drafted Edgar Allen Ho, we thank you for your work in providing the trail.  To our beermeister Potty, man it’s good to have you back. To our virgins and our out-of-towners, come on back every other week! We love you people. To our own Bike-Bitch for his consistent generosity in the LGC - Thank you brother.
This coming weekend is Run-A-Muck with "The Original" Orlando Hash House Harriers. It will be a three day camping trip and BVD will be represented well.
Until next hash keep yourselves safe, see you soon.
May the Hash go in Peace.
Suckulater BVD On-Sec.
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#64 - The Rack Alley

April 27, 2002
The BVD Kennel gathered, each hound greeting the other at the Rack Alley Billiard Hall in Palm Bay on Saturday April 27, 2002. Those BVDers having recently returned from Run-A-Muck 2002 passed stories of Campfires, Dick Tricks, Chiggers an Apple Pie Team and the kind hospitality of our hosts MothSucker and Studwich.
Hash cash being quickly collected and a chalk talk held, our hares of the day Just Puke and Dr. Anus on his virgin lay were on out to set up extra credits and half way surprises. Watch-em-Wiggle from Palatka volunteers to drive the beer truck this hash. Our haberdasher Kojak having pawned his wares to the hounds early; pre-run business had drawn to a close. The impatient hounds feeling restless ventured into the nearest drinking establishment at the Rack Alley Billiard Hall.
Now on a hot Saturday afternoon the sight of a thirsty Hash Kennel with money in their pockets wondering in off the street would usually make a saloon owner cum in his pants. Alas, this was not the case. As our hounds piled in the door we were met by the "Suck Alley" bartender of the day; Fatfuck. Fatfuck being a legal scholar squawked that we could not bring our drinking vessels into the bar. Plastic drinking vessels, according to Fatfuck, are against the law in Palm Bay. We reported that they were all empty and we were here to buy beer. Fatfuck again grumbled that if we drank, we would be drinking from his mugs, not ours. It is hard for a single Fatfuck to scare away 17 or so hashers, so lager we did purchase and drink. No tip for Fatfuck. Side note: The BVD Hash were the sole customers in "Suck Alley".
Side note to owner: BVD hopes that the hiring of Fatfuck was not your best business decision.
Having consumed 2 pitchers of lager in 3.5 minutes, the hounds were on out to the kinder gentler Applebees on the southwest side of the parking lot. BVD was welcomed to the busy establishment of Applebees and escorted to the bar by hostess Just Diana, plastic vessels in hand. Laughter ensued, cash was tossed, Just Melissa our barmistress was enchanted by BVD. Other servers took hash cards, the clientele were excited to participate in the BVD frivolity. After two pitchers, Applebees gave BVD the third pitcher free.
Lessons learned: "Suck" Alley.. bad. Applebees friggen incredibly great!
Trail? On-Out of Applebees found our hares to be gone with the wind. On-On was sounded and BVD Hash no. 64 was underway. East we went through the parking lot, then north making an extended circle and into the Palm Bay shiggy. On-On through swamp, On-On through canals, the esteemed GM Fireindahole having recovered from surgery was On-On through it all like the fine champion she is. On-On through town homes and access paths.
As the shiggy thickens the hounds are packed together without the ability for a clear FRB or DFL to emerge. Count backs and YBF’s are cleverly placed and accurate as to accomplish keeping the front runners in a dead heat with the rear of the pack. The consistent Alpha Female being Circle Blow who nips at the heels of the leaders throughout the hash. One might think she has been practicing on non-hash weekends as her energy level this day has quadrupled.
Yips and howls ring out as the pack enters the area of Serenoa repens the dreaded Saw Palmetto. The fawn-like Lollipop leaping palms as a thicker and slower Kojak is sliced and diced. The Ho, Yanksit, Suckulater, Bike Bitch, Poker, S-Wax, Fireindahole, Ass Packet and Circle Blow are all bleeding on this our heaviest slash hash to date. On-On we go until emerging at a retention ditch and the Beer Near half-way. Our lacerations and bruises appear as proud battle wounds and through the foam we all congratulate each other on surviving what has become one of BVD’s most memorable hashes ever. Briefly the pack considers halting the trail and seeking medical assistance, however getting wind of the plan, Just Puke tosses out that extra credits and yes… the evil Apple Pies are hidden in the second half.
Five minutes of rest and clotting before the pack is again On-Into the deepest shiggy to date. Water crossings, swamp crossings and the trail takes a surprising turn. On-Up onto a 6 foot wall the pack must climb and perform a gymnast balance beam walk for 200 yards. Picture in your mind that you are in an affluent home in an affluent neighborhood when out your back doors you see 15+ adults in age from 23 to 60 in shorts and tanks with whistles all bleeding from the waist down walking your back wall an inch at a time. Bringing up the rear of this Special Olympics act is Suckulater, Ass Packet and Slow Poker when a kindly property owner comes out to inform us, not to get off her wall, but says "Excuse me, I believe you’ve had a scratch".
"NO SHIT, I’VE LOST 4 PINTS OF BLOOD, I AM ABOUT TO PASS OUT, FALL OFF THIS WALL AND DIE IN YOUR YARD--- BIOOOTCH". But no, the Suckulater said "Oh, thank you ma’am, we’re just passing by."
A block ahead in deep shiggy we came upon that miracle that has changed our lives. There hidden on trail was all the chilled ingredients for Apple Pie Shots. We stopped and partook and partook and partook until we didn’t care to ever leave the forest. Time and darkness finally forced us onward.
On-On we went and found the On-In, some dragging, some limping, most whining, but all having a sense of accomplishment. The circle gathered and down-downs were downed, accusations were celebrated until the mosquitoes smelled the fresh blood and launched their attack.
Hash No. 64 was tough, bloody and our roughest trail ever however, it may well have been one of the best marked, best division of count backs, YBF’s, extra credit placement to date. We thank the hares for their diligence and planning.
Our circle complete and business done, we offered a word of prayer for our IFH, Socks and the healing and rehabilitation of her father. They have been missed from our group and we hope to see them again soon.
Until the next time,
May the Hash Go in Peace.
Suckulater BVD On-Sec.
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#66 - A Wedding Day

May 25, 2002.
The BVD Kennel celebrated the 66th running this week with a HASH Wedding. Two of our own hounds: Slow Poker and S-Wax welcomed the BVDH3, Space Coast Full Moon Hash, DBH3, OH3, JAX Beach Hash, friends and family to their home in Melbourne Beach.
Hashers, friends and family arrived bedecked in hash array fit for a celebration and full of wedding wishes for the fine couple. Elegant servers with silver trays fit for royalty ran to provide the finest amounts of champagne, libation and hors d’oeuvres while the couple greeted their guests. Wait… Who am I fooling? This is a Hash Group. Best think more of an episode with the Ozzie Osbournes. After greeting, some beers were tossed in the yard like bones to the wolves while none other than the bride-to-be herself collected the hash cash of $11 a pop. (Hey, someone has to pay for this wedding and collecting the cash is a thing wives do best.)
After the pack and guests had arrived a quick chalk talk was held. Zam-Bone-Me and Ass Packet provided our lovely virgins of the day. As this is a wedding theme and not a regular hash, the trail had been pre-laid and took the pack north and east to the ocean.
On-On southward the trail led the pack down the beach to a place where our own GM Emeritus Kojak waited with a cooler of beer, bottle of champagne and wedding vows to be read. Slow Poker arrived in tie and tails down the boardwalk with his best man Short Straw. Music and static rang out of the boom box signaling the Maid of Honor Moaner Boner’s approach. Seconds later the lovely barefooted Bride all in white sauntered down the steps to the silver shore of the Atlantic ocean.
Kojak read the Hash Wedding Vows and both hashers took turns committing their troths as long as they both shall hash. For you folks that do not have a dictionary handy, allow me. Troth is a pledge of one’s betrothal, a promise to marry, a solemn commitment of fidelity.
So we can put to rest the.. "What the hell is a troth?"
With a few words and a few promises and the couple were joined in holy hashtrimony. The groom congratulated and the bride kissed, the hash was On-On south, east then north to the end back at the home of the happy couple.
Doritos, Tortilla’s, Cheesy-poofs, Sandwich rings, Ziti’s, Spinach Dip, Deviled Eggs, Mixed Vegetables, Kelly's Raspberry Cider and Beer signaled the reception to be in full swing. Hot tub bubbling and swimmers swimming it was finally time to circle up. Our GM Emeritus made an attempt to get some control on the crowd then Without Socks stepped in for the duty of the circle.
Our virgin’s and those that brung ‘em did down-down’s, FRB and current GM Fireindahole was joined by DFL Muddy from Jax on the ice for more down-downs. The HUYA was passed from Best Man Short Straw to the new couple for losing their freedom. Our own Just Ann was named "Moooo" and taught us all about the Congress of the Cow. No wonder Dr. Anus drives 160 miles each way to see her! We would too.
BVD has had some recent new folks join our pack. "Lewis and Clark" and "Serial Mum" have come from hashing in both Turkey and England, "Vaginal Reject" has been assigned to Patrick AFB and this is the second hash for "Just Paul". Welcome to our new hounds.
In closing, this hash was a special event for two of our members of BVDH3. They both work hard for the hash and try to make people feel welcome and encourage folks to return. We wish them the best in their lives together and wish them laughter always. Side note: the "legal wedding" ceremony took place privately with Sir Flatchulot (Capt. U.S. Army) officiating prior to the hash.
Until next time,
May the Hash Go in Peace.
Suckulater BVD On-Sec.
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#67 - The Hideaway Pub

June 8th, 2002
The pack gathered more or less at the usual time at The Hideaway Pub on Sarno Road in Melbourne. I say more or less because The Hideaway lives up to its name and the cell phones could be heard ringing and the question where the hell is this place? Hugs and kisses and a little lube for the tonsils and the chalk talk ensued.
FOUR plops? What thehell was that all about?
PLEASE, THREE plops is the universally recognized marking for ON ON. There are no rules, however there are globally accepted guiding principals. Pay attention HARES to be.
So, we were on out and meandered around both sides of Sarno until we got into a bit of shiggy, where a very good check kept us at bay for about 5 minutes. Finally, someone found trail and shortly after we arrived at the EC where lovely Jello  shots and some other alcoholic concoction waited.
I should add right here that these two kinda old and slow farts did carry some flour. The plops and markings were an absolute delight compared to some who carry half a pound of flour for a 10 mile jaunt.
On trail once again with more meandering around Sarno and then a crossing between Sarno and Eau Gallie where our favorite letters were found - BN - at one of those delightful little beer pool halls bars.
The pitchers were poured and finally the Hares were out with 15 minutes on the clock. Well, time passed, there were still full pitchers and the Belmont Stakes were on the telly. All agreed the hell with it and stayed to watch War Emblem. It appeared that everyone in the place wanted to see the triple as the cheering was very loud. But with about three furlongs to go you coulda heard a pin drop cause the favorite got his ass trounced and we were outa there.
More meandering around housing areas until things started looking familiar. Oh yeah, wet feet coming up. Lolli and I recognized it right away. That nice little dam crossing where Run #3 ended. It was a much warmer time of year this time around and of course having our one and only Sucky standing in the middle handing out more Jello shots was a unique pleasure. And for once everyone waited until the pack had regrouped, well almost, I believe our favorite blond snuck off with the FRB from Daytona - probably did a little quickie behind the church (naughty naughty).
Out once again for a short run to the Beer Near - you guessed it - at the Little Gay Cottage. When your scribe got there a few minutes later there were Hashers sitting with food plates in hand and the keg had NOT even been tapped yet. What the hell is BVD cuming to?
Your scribe was selected to be GM for the day and decided to have visiting GM Sir Flatch share in the duties (has he taken up Brevard residency yet?). So we both shared GM/RA duties and had a lot of good laughs.
I won't bore you with all the details, if you were there you know, if you weren't, HA.
But, I absolutely must tell you about birthday boy's spanking. BB was called in iced and then instructed to kneel over the ice, pants down while IMM was invited to apply the 50 swats while Flatch counted them out. Yes, BB's butt turned red but I think it was more from embarrassment cause those little pats IMM was applying sure didn't do it.
And then we swung low in every form imaginable including Superman - that was a new one!
Chipendale where the heck do you cum up with this stuff?
And then the birthday party continued on into the night. I sure hope someone got a photo of what appeared to be about 15 people sitting on top of each other in the orgasmatron. You shoulda seen that thing Sunday afternoon - YUCK!
AND if you are missing any articles of clothing, or all of your clothing Shooter, shoes, rings, wallets, etc., etc. just give BB a call.
BB and Sucky you guys did a hell of job. Well done.
On Out
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#69 – Wickham Park Camp Out

July 20, 21, 2002
It was Friday, the 19th of July in the dark of the night that it started. Quietly yet steadily they rolled toward Brevard County. From the north, from the west, from the south they came. Each Harrier and Harriette felt the calling, like hounds to the hunt. A pre-lube was held, where drinks were drank, Fire sang and shots were gobbled. The hash was ready, oh what a night!
Saturday morning mismanagement began to gather in Wickham Park to prepare for the 69th Run of BVDH3. Their was beer to be tapped, set ups to set up and tents to erect. When what to our wondering eyes did appear but heads popping up from bushes and palms. Anal Inspector and Tits on a Leash having Jello for breakfast and there in the woods was the infamous Slut Hut from South Florida. Lil’ Dribble and Cum Chowder had arrived in the night.
Set ups began, Kojak tapped keg #1 of 5. Registration was set up and tent city began to be built. Our GM Fireindahole was well in control and organized tasks. IFH had a list and began the Bare-Assed Butt Painting.  Puke and Wiggles brought Ice and a Keg. Note to self: After getting a giant "J " and a giant " U " on each cheek in brightly colored Permanent Sharpie, do not go to the gym and get naked in the men’s locker room. You will attract more attention than you want. Sharpie lasts 4 days.
Hashers began to arrive from all over. Dick-Upon-A-Star bringing Just Charles from South Carolina. Tooth Fairy from Georgia. Blow Job came from Washington, DC. Tuna Helper from South FL, Ram Tuff and the west coast gang came too. With registration underway each hasher got a goody bag with a yellow IB6 UB9 shirt courtesy of the recent Yanksit in Korea trip and other various goodies. Once registered and the beer flowing, it was time to gather up for a chalk talk and get this hash No. 69 On-trail.
Yanksit and Without Socks gave a chalk talk for the Virgins and the hash flash took pictures.  Asses painted, boobs striped and starred, the hounds were On-Out.  On-through the woods around the park, no whistles through the horse area and On-around the Community College to the end back at camp.  Great trail hares.. you will pay.
The circle began around the World Record block of ice that had been delivered for the event.  300 pounds of nut chillin torture sat shining in the circle and waiting for its victims.
The hounds wondered in with a heavy pack at the front with IFH, Dr. Anus, Snail Trail, Just Colleen, Ram Tuff, Way Beyond Gay.. who the hell knows the rest.. The few drunken DFL’s came dragging in from behind. Wait! Surf and Sky Box had joined the trail from somewhere near the end, Tooth Fairy came driving up and got included in the DFL list too. Yanksit took charge as RA and gathered the hashers together. Jello Shots and beer and beer and beer and beer then the circle was ready.
The Hares were iced, FRB’s and DFL’s spent a long time "chillin". Hashers from far and near were iced; West Palm Beach, Palatka, Tampa, Jax, Georgia, South Carolina, and one not-so-lonely hasher from South Africa. All in all the hash had grown to around 50 hounds at this point. A good party was in store for the night. The HUYA was passed from Stumbelina to Short Straw (a record holder for the HUYA). And it was time for a naming. Just Charles had been on 4 prior hashes and BVD took the opportunity to name a visitor. Just Charles sat long on the ice for his baptism into the hash…He has been named Jizz Spitter. With business concluded and a drink to "G", we sang "Swing Low" and were on out to dinner. A note from the hash, Anal Inspector and Tooth Fairy together know every hash song ever written. Thanks guys.
Dinner was catered and the feast began.  Great food and plenty of it. Fireindahole had arranged a great dinner for the camp. Best of all no cooking.
And then it happened.. CREEPY GUY.. and creepy wife.. arrived out of the dark, like some horror film beast from the woods. Creepy guy revealed that he worked in the park as part of his Community Control. (Charge: exposing himself). He also told a story about being a marathon runner and needing sponsors. RIGHT.
The Shooting Star hash was all about shots and Apple Pucker, Apple Pies and Cinnamon Shots. Wow.. my head is spinning.
As dark settled in the woods the electric sounds of thump, thump, thump club music began to wail. Suck Me Dry and Miss Clitty Clitty Bang Bang had erected a Techno Tent, complete with electronics, lasers and black lights, sound system and body paints. Outside an inflatable pool with water fountain and Tiki Torch lights. Damn these hashers are hard core. You two KICK ASS! The Slut Hut was Rockin! The Techno Area had the best camp site on record. Dancing, Swinging and painting the camp. Major Bation, looking fine as ever with B.O.B. close behind, Tuna Helper was swinging with fine breasts painted. Raggedy Anal danced and Tits on a Leash made it off to the lake for a midnight swim.
Creepy Guy was getting head from creepy wife about every 10 minutes (no wonder about the prior arrests). BVDH3 hash 69 was in full swing. Short Straw was dancing in party pants that didn't need a black light to glow, beer was consumed by the gallons. Ass Packet and Circle Blow were both Circle Blown Away and Mr. Packet wandered aimlessly around with no pants for some time. Circle blow twice ran by the Suckulater Tent screaming.. I am naked - I am naked.. as P. Diddy would say "Tru Dat".
Bike Bitch, IFH and Without Socks opted out of the tent life to drift on home and enjoy the benefits of air conditioning. Stumbelina by now was doing back strokes in the Techno Tent Wading Pool with Up Chuck Fuck, Tuna Helper, Lil Dribble and Jizz Spitter all enjoying water. Ok Jizz Spitter was making water.. which cleared the pool quick. Rub-Her-Butt was dancing the night away. Fade to black.
Sunday morning came with the crack of lightening and a rain shower at 7am. Enough rain to stir the campers and wake the mosquitoes. The rain was brief and hashers crawled toward the food pavilion. S-Wax had prepared a breakfast for 10,000. We had muffins and donuts and bagels and cheeses, Danish and rolls and mounds of butters and jams with our beer. Keg no. 5 was tapped and Anal Inspector wheeled out the remaining 240 grape jello shots.  
As with any hash, a game was started where through bloodshot eyes if your name was called and you could open both eyes, Yanksit, Anal and Snail Trail were throwing shots at you. They continued to throw them until you caught one. You had to eat all that you missed.
Ram-Tuff or Snail Trail I cant remember which, started making the Bloody Mary’s. At approx 9am the hash was in full form again. Short Straw led the hangover hash tent to tent awaking any late cummers. Gamey Gonads was a vision that crawled out of her tent holding her head and walked the 200 feet to the bathroom applying pressure to each side of her head. Her eyes were puffy and we wondered if we should call 911.
The hash continued into the day with hounds drifting in and hounds drifting out. All in all this hash was an AMAZING success. BVD’s first camp out had fun and laughter and trails, dancing, food and ice and new friends and Virgins. The visitors from hashes far and near added great entertainment. Mismanagement did an excellent job at food preps, beer, ice, goody bags, advertising etc.
To all who worked, to all who came a grateful thanks. You are all the best. To those that missed it, don’t ever miss this again - It Rocked!
Until next time,
May the Hash Go in Peace
Suckulater - BVD On-Sec.
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#70 - The Fatboys, Independence Day Hash

July 6th, 2002
A faint ticking could be heard as slowly, ever slower, the time passed by. Experience told them that soon the hounds would come sniffing, each expecting a trail of shiggy and count backs, of boob and yak checks. A trail they expect, a trail they will get. The hares vigilant in their planning, cover each step, each twist, each turn. The doughnuts are ready. The Jello has gelled.
A FATBOY Hash was about to be had.
The pack gathered at Pineapple Park in Eau Gallie, FL just north of the Public Library. Our hares of the day Ass Packet and Suckulater were at the ready. Sir Flatchulot from Daytona and his bride to be, Salad Shooter (congrats folks) arrived for the run.
Visitors from far and near appeared: Geezer Pleazer and Ex-Lax in route from Korea to California were in town visiting family. Just Clint, the brother of Shooter dropped in and Tuna Helper was here from South FL. Dick Upon a Star from South Carolina came along with Sperm Burp and Chippendale from Orlando. Virgins showed too, Just Jason, Just Thomas and Just Jen.
The trail went south through old Eau Gallie across Montreal and onto Houston Street where Sugar Doughnuts lead the pack to the first stop at the bank of the river and a Beer Near. Jello shots in Red and Blue with that awesome Parrot Bay Coconut Rum made the hounds start to get that gleam in their eyes (48 shots consumed). More beer and the hares were away back up Houston Street to the next Beer Near at Rosetter’s Park on the next street over. (No one should break a sweat on a Fatboy Hash).
It had been an exhausting 600 yards since the last beer stop when the hares noticed just Puke hanging off the Fatboy Wagon. Bad Puke! On-On from Rosetter’s Park to Joe’s Intercoastal and stop number three. Twenty-Six pints of lager were poured and the hounds were happy. Dr. Joe’s supplied Strawberry Jello Shots on the house to BVD. (Great folks, great place!)
On-On to stop number four on the top deck and 20 more pints were poured. Happier still the hares are singing and swaying. Dick Upon a Star is kissing strangers, the tavern patrons are wanting to join this mob of cheerful (joggers?).
Kojak relates a story of olde when he was GM and the circle was held on this very top deck. Not today Kojak, this is Fatboy stop number four and not yet the half-way. Chippendale with glassy eye’s is singing S-H-I, T-T-Y, chitty, chitty, trail. -Damned foreigners. I think that’s what he sang. It’s all a blurrrr.
Just Randy and Just Cindy arrived to join the hash in progress and me thinks that makes Just Cindy qualify for a naming at her next appearance. Just Paul recites the story of his S-Wax, Slow Poker post wedding run-in with the Beachside constables and his cheerfulness at getting JUST a speeding violation, (instead of the other bad thing). Just Ken from Titusville is twinkling his eyes at Dick Upon a Star and might just get lucky on trail.
On-On up Eau Gallie Blvd to the Lazy Dog Saloon for - you guessed it, stop number five and More Beer, More Beer, More Beer, More Beer.. Edgar Allen Ho, Slow Poker and Bike Bitch have found great amusement at the clean lavatory and its very special marital aids dispenser. (Drunk people find humor in everything). Fortunately, Stumbelina knew the difference between a French Tickler and a .75 cent Rubber Band Erection Ring (ouch). This woman could teach a class in love.
On-On and the hares entered the final phase north on Guava and Highland Avenues to the Backstreet bar, Stop no. 6. Larry the owner has encouraged the hash and the ice to be on his privacy fenced patio. No longer did the circle get set when whistles were heard and a drunken Drinking Club with a Running Problem stumbled into the Backdoor of Backstreet.
Kojak and Slow Poker performed the ceremonies of the circle. 15 pitchers were filled and drank. Visitors and who brung ‘em were iced. Out of towners did down-downs. The HUYA passed from Suckulater to Stumbelina for her 30+ hour visit to Sharpes and the first hasher to get out of jail with phone numbers and dates lined up. Songs were sang. Much laughter was had by all.
Until then, May the Hash go in Peace
Suckulater BVDH3 On-Sec.
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#72 - Sebastian Beach Inn - Punctuality Hash

August 17, 2002
Go South they said. South of the bridges, south of the border, south of Short Straw’s, south of Poker’s, south of Kojak’s, south of Stumbelina’s we did go.
On August 17th 2002 On-South we went, to the land of Sunshine and Grapefruits, Environmental Protection Agents and West Nile Virus bearing mosquitoes.
Those hashers that paid attention, knew to hang a left at the SBI sign, but alas three blocks south of SBI the Suckulater and Bike Bitch pulled a U-turn and headed back to the parking lot. Our GM and heavy footed RA blew past the SBI at 70 mph making a comment to each other that "That Place" would make a great hash bar. They continued southward to the Inlet before deciding "That Place" in fact was "THE Place" for TODAY and they were lost.
The hashers not venturing off to join our brethren at Banana Island in Daytona began to gather and greet each other with apprehension as to what punctuality hashes are all about. Hashing/Punctuality is an Oxymoron.
Old timers Krusty Kream and Sperm Aid joined us (too long between hashes). Snail Trail showed up again (cool).  Stumbelina brought Just Thomas back and in the door came Just Jacques. It was beginning to look like a respectable hash when 13 hounds showed and were ready to run.
Our hare of the day Short Straw had pre-printed the Chalk Talk and run off copies. Bike Bitch-Fauchitis was driving the rental beer vehicle. Later Dr. Anus would sub as Beer Meister Wannabe.
Punctuality is a myth as the Hare was away at 4:27 and left the hounds standing at the Yanksit-mobile drinking (cold-free-beer). Thirty minutes or so had passed and the hounds were away.
South on the beach then west through a neighborhood took the FRB pack 2 miles out of the way before discovering a trap. A big circle on all paved roads with the temperature 98 degrees, it added fun to the sprint.
Snail Trail being 2 miles ahead of the pack lapped the rotund Suckulater and Stumbelina informing them to turn back.  Now proceeding north on A1A then west again and into the shiggy. It was hot as hell and heat stroke was setting in well when a few hounds broke through the deep shiggy and into the orange grove and our first Bear Near.
Running at the mid-point of the pack was Just Jacques when he broke through the shiggy holding his heart.  The nervous pack waited for him to die or go for the cooler. An uncomfortable moment passed.. tic.. toc.. tic.. toc.. tic..toc.. and he lifted the cooler lid and cracked a beer...
Whew…sigh of relief..
On-On north through the deep shiggy (well not deep like Just Puke shiggy but deep shiggy for normal hares) when we found another count back to the Beer Near. On-On through the grapefruit grove and like a hound on a hunt round and round and round we went, though the grove and through the grove and through the grove. On-In found the rental beer vehicle beside the chemical storage shed deep in the grove.
A WARNING FROM JUST THOMAS.  To Wit: It is illegal to enter and run through a citrus grove as you could have CANKER SPORES on your shoes thus spreading your CANKER SPORES all around the grove. You can be arrested for this.
Up and down every single aisle of trees, Just Thomas was obsessed about the legal ethics of running in a citrus grove. Just Thomas will learn more about Mr. Ice later.
FRB of the day was of course Snail Trail with his 9 feet long legs and DFL was Stumbelina, whining that her heart rate was up. Much beer awaited the pack and we began to drink with a passion.
The circle was formed and down-downs began. More beer, more beer, more beer and Dr. Anus was running circles to get everyone a fresh beer. This hound will make a good Beermiester when its his turn as no cup ever got half empty before he was back and refilling double fisted.
Our hare Short Straw was called into the circle and did multiple down-downs for the clever trail. It was well planned and well executed. The slower hounds were at the finish at the same time as the FRB’s give or take two minutes. Drink.. mo.. fu.. Drink.. mo.. fu.. sit on cooler. sit on cooler…
Korean hashers did down downs, masturbators, 50% rule.. when our RA noticed that it was time for an impromptu naming. Just Jacques was pale and fading again.. when he was called into the circle and spontaneously named "Dead Man Walking". We agreed that this was his 3rd hash but due to special circumstances.. he should be named now, and QUICK..
The circle was in full swing when a truck was heard coming through the grove. Some hound yelled POLICE and like piss ants the hounds ran, beers in hand, through the grove in 360 degrees. An Atom bomb could not have scattered people further or faster. Over trees, under trees, diving for cover. When who arrived but… THE ENVIRONMENTAL PROTECTION AGENCY. Yes, our worst flour throwing nightmares had come true. In a single bound, Krusty Kream and Sperm Aid leapt the entire chemical storage building and hugged the corrugated metal siding.
Our hare of the day Short Straw was left standing beside the rental beer vehicle with our own Bike Bitch-Fauchitis  (in his new leather choker that says BITCH). This was a scene out of deliverance. Two men in an orange grove .. one wearing a leather choker on his neck that says BITCH.
Mr. Environmental Protection Agent, confused and seeing heads pop up and around and under trees and bushes said the magic words we all had hoped for "All ya’ll hashers?", "I used to be a Hasher". Sweeter words were never spoken. After chit chatting about his days in the Hash, he said we were illegally trespassing and to clean up when were done.
Our songmeiser led us in Swing-Low, the RA blessed the Bar-Men… and hash no 72 came to a close. It was a hell of a hash with much fun and laughter and a totally cool Environmental Protection Agent.  
Much thanks to Short Straw and those that helped…
Until next time…
May the Hash Go in Peace
Suckulater BVDH3 On-Sec.
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#75 - Gables Saloon

September 28, 2002
Okay Wankers,
Here they are. It started with Drunk people and ended with Drunk people.
It was a cold and blustry day (not really, try hot and humid) down in the nether regions of Brevard. The Hash was invited to attend a GAY BAR called the Saloon. Leather and Lace seemed to be the "Theme" (too many freak'n themes). It is down right scary how much leather was there and not any was bought special for this occasion.  (Do not be left alone with these people).
Much Drinkin' was done prior to "Chalk Talk. After an hour or 2 these 3 "Dickheads" Ass Packet, Bike Bitch and perpetual hare DR. Anus blessed us with there rendition of the hash marks.
Photo's were taken and they were off to lay a "Live Trail" (anybody want to buy some swamp land from me). Right off the bat it back apparent that these Hares knew what they were doing (yeah right) Trail started with a Turkey Eagle option. The fools went Eagle and the 2 smart ones (Poker and Snatch) went Turkey. after following these tiny tiny splotches of what seemed to be flour, we crossed railroad tracks and then thru neighborhoods, public parks and back to the rail road tracks. Uh oh it was soon found out by a few harriets why this was the Eagle Trail. Train trestle bridge with no beams at the end had a 2 of our young ladies frozen with fear. Being That there was only 4 females and 1 male (short straw) and only Fire and I had crossed all the way, somebody had to go back and help the 2 horrified harriets to cross and since I had a camera, it was up to Fire. FRB is not that great when all the chicky-poos are hanging back with the Short Straw (suckers). Ok the bridge was crossed and trail restarted. BN amen. More drinking yadda yadda. Oh yeah,  GM looks great sweating in leather (see photos). ON-Out and more auto hashers added (Snatch). Down Palm Bay road we went. thru neighborhood and then another Turkey Eagle. Short Straw had enough and went Turkey with Circle B. Turning the corner all the FRBs pooped out of the woods and kept a going.
Off they went out of sight only to come running back as Circle and I meandered up. COUNTBACK. some searching and whistles were heard from Mini Me (Scratchy Sac)., Kill the Hares was the cry. It seems that they found the one place that was sticker and red ant heaven. You stopped to pull out a sticker and the ants ate ya. but oh joy around the corner a familiar truck was waiting BN. By now our On-Sec (Suckulater) had ditched his NASA duties and joined us. Much drinking and talk of having circle there and "F" the hares was done. Hashers are just too damn nice. On-Out was heard. More auto Hashers were added (Salt Lick). everybody was content to walk at this point. Oh my GOD what the hell died out here? Alas it was the Photo Op around the corner. Short Straw's own bordello. Llamas, sheep, goats, and ponies Oh My. The visuals I got. Ok after the 10 miles or so people were getting cranky and dropping there shorts to do business any where.
Crossing A1A and Castaway Inn Appeared (expensive beer) so all the wanker hashers went in while the highly intelligent Short Straw went the other way on true trail and to the Jello Shots. Ok these were NOT Jello Shots more like Jello Pints. All auto hashers had arrived and were getting looped. Finally the wanker hashers realized that beer was expensive and looked across the water to see us with Jello.
Okay more Jello only to be told that the end was back at the beginning only 5 more miles to go (Hares are lucky, no guns were carried).
Ok upstairs was Hasher territory so a tarp was laid out with some of the sorriest looking ice ever sitting on top. Hares, FRB's, DFL (Moi), Too long between, farthest away god knows who else sat on ice and drank.
HEY DID we ever get Snail Trail to drink out of his new pontoons. Oh yeah It was deemed about time to name Just Colleen. Welcum CUNT COMMANDO.
Something about licking something back in the day. The bar was bitching about water leaking and nobody drinking their beer so things wrapped up most of the pack headed to Bitchs.
That's how I saw it and remember it so deal with it any inaccuracies, out right lies and mis spellings are intentional
Short Straw
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#77 - 3rd Anal Hash-O-Ween

October 26, 2002
Version by Fire
This was no ordinary day. First of all, it was a hash day, and a mighty fine one! And to top that, it was a special Hash-o-ween for the misfits of the BVDH3. Doing the meet and greet by the road in front of Chumley’s/Mushroom Pizza, was Slow Poker dressed as a life-size ON-ON Foot. Others began to arrive. Yanksit (Friar), and Fireindahole (Frederick’s style angel). Already in Chumleys, our hares, S-Wax (the wizard), and In My Mouth (sexy Playboy bunny/hare), anxiously awaited the arrival of the pack.
After some initial confusion on beer prices at Chumleys, everyone filtered in. Kojak (life-size pumpkin) anticipated the, "So, Kojak, what are you anyway?" question by writing on his pumpkin, "I’m a punkin." Virgins, Just Karen (witch), and Just Katie (50’s go-go dancer), arrived. Shortly after FuCkleberry (rodeo clown) arrived, and you wouldn’t believe what the cat drug in….Ass Sqealor dressed as his old self (Navy man). Ass Packet—yes, I remembered your name for the Trash without asking Yanksit—came dressed as a devil…I know, so unlike him. Circle Blow was there, complete with her Army desert battle dress uniform. Dr. Anus, who arrived early with his football team, went in the bathroom for some time (hmmmmm) and emerged as none other than Austin Powers himself! Oh behave! He was truly shagadelic though he kept his twig and berries to himself! Cockpit strolled in as a homeless vampire lady, complete with fangs and a shopping cart filled with "goodies." Only a half hour late (though we hadn’t started the trail yet), Snail Trail (VERY impressive Human Fly) and Cunt Commando (equally impressive spider) joined us. Their costumes were elaborate! I hate them both. Just Andrea (who REALLY needs a name) meandered in with her brother and his friend, though the latter two left shortly after. They were much too mature for our crowd (both were 22 yrs. Old). Just Andrea wore an orange shirt that said "Halloween Costume." Simple, but nice—tight enough to show off her perky breasts. We were happy to see Lollipop make it to the start, though I can’t for the life of me remember her costume (a hound?). She had just finished with the "W" thing and had hurried over to meet us. Just when we thought everyone who was going to show us was there, Edgar Allen Ho, along with his new squeeze, Just Jamison, walked in hand-in-hand. The two were inseparable the entire trail, walking far enough behind the pack so they could continue to talk dirty to one another in private (just a guess on my part).
 Finally, we were on-out. Right outside of Chumleys, the hares laid a Turkey or Eagle which-way arrow. The pack split in two, but since we were just headed next door to the Mushroom Pizza place, we met up in about 30 seconds. We downed a few more pitchers and we were on-out. This time the trail…what trail!!!!!! There were no marks to be found! Since the hares laid a dead trail the day before, most of the marks had disappears so S-Wax soon found the pack and helped us along. We weaved through and fro, among the neighbors in Palm Bay who weren’t the least bit concerned about us. After all, it was Halloween. On the way to the next beer stop, we saw none other than Moaner Boner! She spied us on trail and stopped to say hello. The beer stop was in a park (same one the Full-Moon stopped at recently).
The hares had a nice spread (no, not their legs, though I’m sure they do), of chips, a big caldron of yucca, and a big barrel of iced-down drinks. They had a bunch of small pumpkins and markers on the table, ready for the artists of the group to have their way with them. And they did. We had pictures of penis’ and vaginas (Ass Packet—the word choice was just for you). We had a traditional pumpkin, also, but mostly vulgar stuff—go figure! The hares gave out little plastic pumpkins filled with treats for the best artists, best costume (voted on by the group—Snail Trail won), and so forth. We were having such a good time that we didn’t notice that we were losing sunlight. The hares quickly packed everything up and shooed us away.
 The next beer stop was a parking lot, who knows where, and no one really cared by that point. After that, we were on-down Babcock St., back to the Mushroom Pizza place, our ending spot. Since we did all the down-downs at the park, the only thing left was for us to drink, eat pizzas, and be merry…and we did, for a long time! With the beer gone and almost all of the pizza, we headed out to the on-after, The Tap. We effectively annoyed some civilians with what we’re calling the "annoying photo op." We all gather around civilians who are desperately trying to ignore us, and we take our picture with them. We were able to get rid of one blahsay couple in that matter.
 The group soon wanted to move to the on-on-after because The Tap was just too quiet—no smoke, no skanky people other than us, so The Pour House was our obvious choice. There, we partied as only hashers can party. We danced, we drank, we sang, we drank, and we drank. We had much fun, but missed some of our "regulars," Suckulator, Bike Bitch, Without Socks, IFH, Gamey Gonads, Just Puke, and Wiggles (sorry if I missed any regulars). Hope to see all of us together again at the next hash, our 3rd anal Red Dress Run…location TBD.
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#78 - A Red Dress Hash

November 09, 2002
A red dress run is an extraordinary hash event. Red hats, red purses, red stockings, red boas and all known red regalia are piled onto hashers of all sexes. As with every hash event many versions of how things got started abound. I have heard many versions of how the red dress runs got started in the hash. One in particular involves an On-After and a hasher that had over indulged in the lager. Seems he forgot about his wife standing near and made many attempts at luring a woman in a red dress to taste of the fruit of his loins so to speak. However, as his wife was not amused by the night it ended without success other than another hash marriage dispute. On the following run, each hasher showed up in red dresses to jeer and poke fun at the previous run's events. Now, I have heard stories involving hot tubs and red dresses, Koala Lumpur and Red Dressed British girls etc. and I am sure as this is released I will get 20 odd corrections from each ancient hasher that knows the real story and I invite them to be told. Never-the-less all hashes make an attempt at having an annual red dress run and so begins the story of BVD and the 3rd annual Red Dress run 9 November 2002.
The BVD (no that is not Brevard - it is BVD as in the underwear) Hash House Harriers gathered at the Coral Bay Restaurant off US1 in Melbourne on Saturday. Our hares of the day had forewarned the bar, which never really expected the lovely sights that arrived. Bike Bitch in lovely pink sex kitten wig and embroidered two-piece skirt suit was enough to scare women into hiding their children, but quietly he sat and began to check in the hounds as hash cash of the day. Our hares of the day all having been GM's greeted the pack and warmed the crowd up for this our 78th run. Kojak, Yanksit and Fire would hare for the day.
Virgins? Yes we had virgins Just Mara who had just moved to the area and we hope to see more of. Our GM Fireindahole brought Just Katie and Just Lorenda. They hail from the DC area and had gotten into the Red Dress spirit and yes they got it at Ross. Our visitors were Tail of two Titties from Jax, Just Jen, and Just Clint, brother of Salad Shooter. Our brethren from Daytona showed too. Gilligan, Salad Shooter, and Sir Flatchulot.
Too long between hashes, it was great to see Dick Sniffah back in the fold. Crotchduster had returned from a 5-week stint in Macedonia and Cockpit was sore yet in a really good mood for some unknown reason. Ass Packet (lovely in red mini dress and painted red beard) is getting ever more comfortable showing up around the state in women's clothes. I do recall his first hash and hearing of the red dress, I think the words were No fricken way will I wear a dress. Time tells a different story.
Just Puke and Watch-em-Wiggle arrived, Puke in a Velveteen original. FuCkleberry and Dr. Without Socks in matching frocks showed but forgot to strap things down so their dresses had unusual lumps and bulges in the front. Lets face it, dresses just shouldn't look that good on men. The beautiful temptress IFH still managed to look better than Socks (beat by a girl, beat by a girllll).
The Coral Bay had warmed up to the crowd and requested some songs, BVDH3 sang a G Rated Happy Birthday to 90-year-old Arthur and on to another table for Happy Birthday William (I think). Dr. Anus our Beermeister looked fetching while Gamey Gonads wore a red Windsock Dress ala Jacksonville. All this being said, no chalk talk was held and the pack just gathered and headed On-Out after the hares that had left a trail of red flour.
On across US1 and on through Jim Rathmann Chevrolet as the salesmen stood in awe at the lovely pack of 25+ hounds all in red dresses weaving through the parking lot. On Down and On through the neighborhood and On in to Wally's Pad and our first beer stop. Here we drank and toasted the surprise wedding announcement of our own Edgar Allen Ho and his new bride Mrs. Ho. They were joined in wedded bliss November 5th. Down-downs for them and on out.
On-south down Babcock and On-into Hooters. Hooters had declined to give the BVDH3 any break on pitcher prices and discouraged our arrival and participation. The hares thought this too good of an opportunity to not miss, so we paid full price and were on hash behavior. Take that Hooters! Photo op. (Bad place, we will skip it from now on). On east again to another beer stop and other photo ops. Scratchy-sack stopped along the way to make a Goodwill purchase for his newfound BVD Hash. He purchased a used bedpan for $7 to add to our hashit. I seem to remember his puking on his first hash here in BVD and he could have used this then. Thanks Scratchy.
On past the beer stop and on in again to Coral Bay. The ending and the circle meant a good day was had by BVDH3. Tags were handed out for 25 runs with BVDH3 (??) (Note to self, buy a calculator for whoever counts these runs) The hash was a great success. Our songmistress IFH led Swing Low and the Hash went in peace (or got a piece). Bleary eyed and smiling all were on to the On-After at the LGC. Another chance meeting for our women and their rendezvous with Antonio at the LGC Orgasmatron.
The On-After lost and found is growing. We have news that the LGC will host an under-garment rummage sale in January mostly hosting things left in and around the hot tub.
Until next time,
May the Hash go in Peace.
Suck-U-Later BVDH3 On-Sec.
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#79 - Hashgiving

November 23, 2002
Hello All,
I am filling in for our dear OnSex who decided to not get his ass spanked by BVD in honor of his birthday and went off to New Yok City to celebrate. However, I am a bit confused in that prior to this birthday crap he was always honor bound for duty at the Cape to put those things up into orbit but suddenly he doesn't have to be there?? And, the thing goes off without a hitch at exactly 1949 hours on a beautiful, absolutely clear sky, Saturday night! It was awesome. So what the hell do they need him for? Obviously, like everything else at that place there is a backup. Hmmmmmm a backup Sucky, can there be two? "OH MY GOD"!
Anyhow, 15 hardy souls (where the hell were the rest of you idiots?) and one four legged beast met at JD's Sports Bar in Palm Bay and proceeded to get ON. Our Hares were Ass Packet, Circle Blow and Dr. Anus. (And, as it turned out, two drunk assistants and a Jeep that worked better than Ass Packets Ford). Oh, sorry, I am getting ahead of myself (OK never mind the HEAD bullshit).
So, about half of the assembled crowd, including the aforementioned four legged beast, gathered for chalk talk. Yeah, the usual and no VIRGINS. 15 minutes and we were off, well, some of us. About half the pack actually, the slow fucks took off and the rest just stayed in the bar. ON ON behind the bar, under a fence, oh that was cool, into a neighborhood with Hash Horrors and barking mutts wondering what the hell we were up to and then into the alleyways of the finest shops in Palm Bay (HA). Then thru a neighborhood of nice old houses where one or two of us found the turkey/eagle trail. HA, after Wednesday night nobody fell for that bullshit so off we went into the shiggy. And it was quite nice and interesting, OUCH. (Note to self: Full Moon Hashes must NOT have shiggy more that waist high in future. Head punctures and possible loss of eyes are a NO NO)). First leg laid by Dr. Anus.
And suddenly we, joined by the quick runnin bastahds, come upon Ass Packet, looking somewhat dejected and pointing us to the (almost) half way beer. Seems that the Half-way beer wasn't exactly where it was planned but AP got his truck a bit bogged down and so that was where we were at. So a brew or two and then off to AP's vehicle. Ha, ever seen a Ford, whatever that thing is, with it's ass in a huge ditch and the hood pointing more or less to the sky? OK, you get the picture. Fire and Yanksit suddenly pull out there AAA card and make arrangements for a tow truck. Now, there's prepared Hashers for ya. (Note to self: put the 20K tow rope in the damned truck, it ain't worth crap on the garage shelf). So, about an hour later Mr. tow truck shows up and sorts things out. In the interim, the more or less drunken assistant Hares, you know, the ones who do the Hash on four wheels, namely Wiggles and S/Wax, oh yeah, baby, the pitchers of rum and coke (diet) were real good, set the rest of the trail to relieve AP of his duties. In the interim we find that AP has also lost his cellphone while setting the last part of trail. That will teach ya AP, real Hashmen don't need that teckno shit.
And so, after getting the AP vehicle hauled out (hey, it also contained the ON IN beer, so we had to wait) we were off to the end laid by the aformentioned drunken, useless, auto Hashers, meandering through the parking lots of Palm Bay's major telecom companies. Finally, huh, huh, huh, oh shit I'm out of breath, we arrive in a little secluded place for the circle. Stay with me, the above is horse manure, now it gets interesting.
The Circle: well, well, well, who would have believed, not the one block of ice usually provided by yours truly, but three, which later became four. AP put his freezer to work and I have to surmise that he had our dear birthday boy - Sucky - in mind. Just picture it, Sucky stretched out over 3 or 4 blocks of ice face down while Circle Blow gave him forty or fifty whacks. Now we know why you opted for NY you sleazy bahstad and left your fellow astronaughts in the lurch. Damn, some people will do just about anything to avoid a little ice.
Anyhow, AP spend a hell of a lot of time on his own ice for the several bits of bad luck which came his way on this day. However, all was not terrible as he did get a bit of, ah, well, how to put this gently, escapes me, but a certain someone was attempting to give him a BJ but with his ass mostly frozen he admitted that getting "it" up was next to impossible.
So, the Hares, Assistant Hares, etc., were honored and then we went on to the usual. No Virgins this week so we got to a naming, er two namings, I almost forgot the four legged beast.
Oh, but before that, your humble scribe had a bit of a surprise with a raffle where everyone got a gift from Goa. You, lazy pieces of crap who didn't show up missed out. So, football is more important, huh.
Well, too bad, you missed out.
And so it came to Just Cindy - she shall forever more be known as, taaaadahhh, - DOLLAR IN IT.
And then we get to Just Sophie, that's the four legged beast owned by Salad Shooter and left in the hands of Just Puke and Wiggles for the weekend (big mistake SS). So, Puke held delicate little Sophie in his arms while he sat on the ice and we named the bitch - Taaahdahhh – UNDER COVER CUNT. What the hell is that all about you may wonder. Well, it seems that someone, one of the many pooch sitters of said Sophie, once asked, "if you want to make love, what do you do with Sophie?" Answer, from Ms veggie, "just put her under the covers, she won't bother you". Taahdaaahh, welcome UCC! Hee Hee Hee, hey Flatch, wa's up?
And so we were on back to JD's where wonderful smoked turkey sandwiches and more beer awaited. A wonderful day, wonderful Hash camaraderie and a hell of a lot of laughs at AP's expense.
The Hares did a wonderful job. Thankyou AP, Dr. Anus and Circle Blow and your impromtu host of assistant lazy, no good, bleep, bleep, bleep, auto Hashing drunks. WE all had a blast.
And that was No. 79. You missed it? Too bad.
T'was the nite of Thanksgiving, but I just couldn't sleep, I tried counting backwards, I tried counting sheep.
The leftovers bechoned-the dark meat and white, but I fought the temptation with all of my might.
Tossing and turning with anticipation, The thought of a snack became infatuation.
So, I raced to the kitchen, flung open the door, and gazed in the fridge, full of goodies galore,
I gobbled up turkey and buttered potatoes, pickles and carrots, beans and tomatoes.
I felt myself swelling so plump and so round, 'till all of a sudden, I rose off the ground.
I crashed through the ceiling, floating into the sky, with a mouthful of pudding and a handful of pie.
But, I managed to yell as I soared past the trees... Happy eating to all-pass the cranberries, please.
May your stuffing be tasty, may your turkey be plump. May your potatoes'n'gravy have nary a lump.
May your yams be delicious, may your pies take a prize, May your Thanksgiving dinner stay off of your thighs!!!
Have a wonderful holiday with best wishes from Lollipip and Kojak.
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#80 - Bourbon House Bar and Grill

December 07, 2002
I hear that "What doesnt kill you makes you stronger"... BVD Hash # 80 might have made us into some strong - sumbitches.. What a day.. wow...What a night..!!
The BVDH3 Kennel gathered at Bourbon House Bar and Grill on US1 in Rockledge Saturday December 7th 2002. The good hare Dr. Anus acted as our hash cash and got the business out of the way. No haberdashery this week. At 2:30 or so, the chalk talk was held and our hares for the day Suck-U-Later and Dr. Anus were on out with Dick Sniffah' in tow. The songmistress led the group in Father Abraham and 15 minutes later the pack was on out across US1 and on east to the river and Rockledge drive for a scenic mile and a quarter run. South along the river to a cut through in a citrus grove found jello shots as extra credit. On on to US1 and multiple count backs and ybf's. Sir Flatchulot leading the front running bastards Yanksit, Edgar Allen Ho, Fuckleberry etc on south an extra mile before realizing they had been F*cked and needed to turn around.
On west and across US1 and the rail road tracks to find more countbacks and ybf's. True trail had the pack on into a hidden animal sanctuary and the first beer stop in the middle of the wood. As the kennel caught their breath and gulped good beer (Rot gut left over from other hashes - Old Milwalkee Ice), and more jello shots, Salt Lick Titty appeared saying she was driving by and saw the marks. On-on it's good to find a hash in progress. Just Katie and Just Karen and Dr. Socks were all fuzzy from the run and the previous night's hangover which was in full swing now.
On out from the beer stop and on into the shiggy. IFH did our face plant of the day and ended up chin first in the shiggy. On around and on through the sanctuary before the pack had to climb a fence and traverse a revene. Yes sir.. dry at the bottom but 20 feet down, 5 across and 20 feet straight up led the pack through more count backs, before finding the circle in a new home construction area.
FRB of the day was Yanksit who passed Sir Flatchulot feet before the circle. Competitive running? On-in the pack came with stickers, grape leaves and shiggy marks up and down them. (Not your usual Suck-u-later trail, but then you have to thank Dr. Anus for the deepest darkest shiggy.. he was hare trained by Just Puke).
Bike Bitch arrived DFL bitching about climbing fences and we circled up losing daylight. Just when we had a proper head count and circled up, a whistle could be heard from the dark shiggy.. Surf came through having joined the hash late...and now becoming DFL.
The hares were iced, the FRB and DFL was iced, Suck-U-Later was iced and got his 25 runs tag (from August) he supposed it was held hostage until now. All GM's were iced Yanksit, Fire and Fatty, I cant remember why. Scratchy Sack was iced for leaving BVD. 50% Rule.. lots of icings..lots of songs.. for various reasons. The Songmistress lead Swing Low and we were on out to retrieve vehicles (4 miles away) and On-After back at the Bourbon House.
Thanks to all who participated and made it a great day for all. Especially a big thanks to Scratchy Sack for his time at BVD as he heads off to another assignment and another hash. "What the hell was that African chant we were screaming at the Bourbon House? who nee tom dee da da, mack ee bawanaa .. to you too.." Then out came the barmaid to be Aluette'd by Sir Flatchulot.. That joint will remember BVD for ever, thats for sure. A truly great crowd everyone had a super time.
Erections drawing to a close, dont miss Jingle Balls hash and the last hash of 2002. This will be in Cocoa Village for a year end pub crawl. Also, of note is that anyone pre-registered for Daytona Bike Week will have their names on this years T-Shirt. A design is being made up with everyone's names in it but ONLY if you are preregistered. Do that now --- $40 registration fee for Bike Week. The hotel is again the Mayan Inn.
So for now..
May the Hash Go in Peace
Suck-U-Later BVDH3 On-Sec.


"If You Have Half A Mind To Hash, That's All You Need!"