IndyScent Hash House Harriers -

"MA!! MA!! CAN I GO OUTSIDE WITH MY FRIENDS?"

"ONLY IF YOU CLEANED YOUR ROOM!"
"AND IT IS COLD OUT, WEAR THE SWEATER YOUR UNCLE LOUISO AND TETA MARY GAVE YOU LAST CHRISTMAS!"

"OK MA, IT MAY GET SNAGGED AND DIRTY SO DON'T GET MAD, MA."

The afternoon was a mere 30 or so degrees and blustery winds measured 40 mph... but it was sunny! I met my band of merry mismatched mates in a sketchy parking lot behind a Taco Bell in the Far East. No hashers venture here much, too dismal, run down, and they put scorpions in their alcohol at the local Chinese restaurant.

But this was The Cosby Sweater Hash and no matter where it was, was destined to be a ridiculously fun time.

34 wankers obeyed PDitz and created a pretty round circle. Kokomo represented well as 5 returning hashers arrived in a mobile home. Sweaters were admired as 3 hashers wore the exact same ones. Anal Boomerang,true to his name, dug his out of his closet. Why get rid of perfectly good polyester? Our hares,Money $hot and later to be named, Just Justin, were blessed and chalk talk commenced. Lawrence of the Labia made a return as our timekeeper and had a clock around his neck as big as FlavaFlav's.

10 Minutes!!! and the pack was out! We all took a bad trail immediately as Just Justin laid a huge YBF.
Most of the sweatered revelers stayed on the same side of the street while Blindo with canine Velvet and Gutter Balls darted across Washington street. Amidst the confusion ,along the median, was a strutting Angry Bird looking much like Sexy Stink Fingers. The rest of us waited our turn and maneuvered the busy traffic Frogger style.

The trail led past my new virgin Just Lisa's kid's doctors office. A wooded path led us to MittRomenyhoffer street. Again, running gaily, especially Jewbacca in high water patterned running tights,we came upon a re-group.
Grope shots were taken by various technology devices strictly prohibited by the hash. A k-9 split led hashers around Washington Sq. Mall. The other split went directly into the mall. We marched through following sticky notes with trail marks. Just Aaron, later to be named, ducked into the men's bathroom and ran out after the pack. Paul Blart, over-sized mall cop quickly took chase after this lightening quick hasher.

We exited through a furniture warehouse where 3 overzealous females, PDitz, VD, and Hostess with the Most Tits enthusiastically bared their erect nipples at the boob check.We were led directly into shiggy. Pink flour powdered the way as we climbed over moss covered concrete chunks. BN led us under a bridge where we feasted on Oreos, Poofy Cheetos, and PBR,Lite and Busch beers.We clamored out of our little trolls den and climbed back up onto East 10th street. The pack quickly dispersed as the FRB's left us in the dust, or mud, depending on which side of the street you were on.


Blister in the Sun pointed out the 3 couches piled next to a dumpster while we ran through an apt complex. He is going back later to put the brown one in his home.
The trail eventually led us right past a Discount Tire shop where mechanics dropped their rivets and hooted until Hostess with the Most Tits flopped out her gargantuan, meaty breasts to treat them all.

Apparently we crossed Washington St. for the 3rd time and into more shiggy. Just Justin was kind enough to lay a pallet over some water so pussy hashers with bad shoes would not be miserable. A dismembered one eyed Bratz Doll with matted hair was discovered and VD dubbed it her baby. In a playful gesture, she tossed the poor child and it landed in the icy calf deep waters. I retrieved it as I was wearing my Amazon.com forest green knee high Sorel waterproof boots with the adjustable ties.

The entire pack had to work to get to the 2ND BN, an abandoned go-kart track. Our hares, waiting there,teased us to race around the figure 8 track before we could reach the treats. Sexy Stink Fingers hollered out "Best Beer Check ever!" as even the little hobbit had to duck under the track. Besides the array of beers was the much coveted Frito Honey BBQ twists. Lawrence disciplined me on hoarding these delightful corkscrew snacks. Cums with Nuts brought her own almonds.This beer check had it all. The tiny ransacked building with the clanging metal doors beckoned us in. Here we discovered a filthy toilet. Nothing but the best for Jacoochie to use. Guam Hasher, LaDrone fell while running on ice and sliced open his hand but good. PDitz had a mobile first aide kit and beckoned canine hasher, Load Warrior who carried it beneath his Cosby sweater. Skillz and Just Aaron, who insist on wearing shorts and shiggy socks, banged their knees also. Blood.Cool. Someone
offered a tampon.

Broke Back Belcher led a chorus of "VIVA LA DENTAL!" as we walked by the multicultural and festive dental office. They even have an explanation mark on their sign. The dentists definitely use the happy gas.

The trail split into a turkey/eagle and the Messiah's best efforts to follow the eagles was thwarted by 5 hashers. Apparently he was in a deep conversation with Diarrhea of a Man Spanks.
From this point I can only tell you what the eagles did. At least the slow ambling eagles...more creeks, more shiggy and then a golf course and then... THE MOTHER LOAD!! Jewbacca and Spit Valve and Blindo eyed an abandoned Ben Hogan Precision Club Fitting trailer. They opened it and like kids at Christmas jumped for joy as they pulled out 5 irons. 5 irons for all hashers! Victoriously 7 of us hauled as many clubs over our shoulders as we could. It was a good looting idea at first but when facing the biting winds, Semen Posture P Dick lamented, "Why was this such a good idea?" "Because they were free, man! We could sell them at Good Will or on EBay and get some money!" Yes, we were 12 for a moment.

We eventually met at the On In and sang heartily and drank for a shitty trail, our crimes, our injuries until the sun was long gone. Our GM Camo Tow inducted the virgins. The Hashitwas handed down from Skillzto Jewbacca for wearing ill fitting tights and he drank from the cracking rancid rubber plunger. A short version of Swing Low was held...twice.

Most of the pack and some hasher gals who went to a beer fest showed up at Buffalo Wild Wings. Our server looked like a miniature Flap Jack the MILF Man.

2 namings were held and after much, much discussion and general loudness, Just Aaron was named CRUCIFUX for his wonderful habit of going to church every Sunday even though he sinned all week and had intercourse with marshmellow squishy women.. or something totally insane.

Just Justin, a former Navy airman (not a semen) who worked on an aircraft carrier was busted by his commanding officer after 5 lonely months on the ship....let me just sum it up with his name, ALL HANDS ON DICK.

Congrats to FUX and DICKIE for coming back for more!

ON-ON to the Stupor Bowl!!