A drunken account from Tequila Cocking Bird


I road raged through snarly traffic up to the big city and hit the bar,Vendetta, early to prepare for my first venture into the No Name. I sauntered up to the bar, took one look at the special and immediately charmed the bartender with my earnest excitement for a shot of Maker’s Mark. Then she offered me the gratis beer back and was disarmed by the look of love and devotion in my eyes. Both bartenders appreciated my enthusiasm and poured heavy – they even sent me away with a free beer cozy knowing that I would probably make good use of it. I didn’t have a full appreciation of their generosity until after round two when I couldn’t walk straight. As a hasher you would think I would have better tolerance but I guess rage and an empty stomach set you up for debauchery.

Not long into my first round I went up to a “gentleman” (read: fucking wanker) and said, “You look like a hasher!” I met Winnie the Goo not for the first, not for the second but for the third time. I later outdid myself by meeting Disco Balls twice in 10 minutes. I had a great time reacquainting myself with Burnin’ Feeling after our doggy style love fest on Tuesday night. I recognized Value Vagina Discunt but mangled her name yet again. Once BeeFuck arrived I promptly dry humped him in excitement for the IAH regos he scored us. When DeBoner arrived I dry humped her too just for good measure. Paid off as I went home with her later. And of course a good time was had catching up with my awesome Sister Log Jammer, my occasional accidental boyfriend Can’t Finish, Romancing the Bone, Cock Jaw, Good Will Cunting, our old friend Cream Jeans, Fuu Fuu, Robo Dick, Disco Balls, and several others who I’m losing in the fog. Apologies!

I met for the first time the lovely Tri Pod, Disco Balls, Just Kelly from El Salvador, Just Rob later to be named Tongues a Thousand Tails (I think) and one other Just who I met post whiskey. It will be tough to name our love child after him, not to mention collect child support.
We set off and all was good until we got diverted into some shiggy and lost trail. As we came out of the shig I hopped a fence except there was not enough hop and a little too much fence. I tore a lovely hole in the ass of my running tights. We proceeded to stay lost and eventually headed back to check the last mark that was in the shig – or at least that’s what I thought. No one else thought that.

I think I may have napped on trail a la Power Puker but there was no one to haul my drunk exposed ass along but me. So I swerved about asking civilians, “Have you seen any crazy runners around here lately. I mean besides me.” I finally managed to find some trail and made a little progress until a check that I thought pointed straight but actually pointed diagonally. After following some false trail and some Stumptown trail and running up and down rape alleys with my ass hanging out I made it back to the check and actually went the direction it pointed.

I was doing a pretty decent job of following trail but then my sister called and asked where the hell I was. It was still light out so I didn’t think I was in trouble yet but bless the No Name’s heart, they didn’t want to start religion without me. So I finished with some autohashing. Before my ride arrived I ran into my occasional accidental boyfriend with beer in hand. Thank goodness because the fear was starting to sober me up!

We made our way back to the fabulous Tina Turnover’s. Cock Jaw’s Religion was as shitty as the trail and I felt very, very dirty afterwards just like I like. I didn’t have to drink for being a visitor or for auto hashing because I was already (still) too drunk and had to drink for several other violations. Our wonderful hares the dryhumpable BeeFuck and Discunted Vag of Great Value did their fair share for their shitty trail too. After religion I got to meet a great hasher named Disco Balls. Reminded me of someone but I just can’t place him!

Then DeBoner took me home and stashed me in her basement until I was once again appropriate for public consumption.

A big fatty hasher thank you to the No Name – I had a damn good time in between the accidental hammering and rape alleys. And to my sister and DeBoner for noticing I was no where to be found and finding me!

On on!
Tequila Cocking Bird

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One thought on “A drunken account from Tequila Cocking Bird”

  1. Thanks again for regaling my virgin with tales of hash awesomeness and your bold bare assed bodaciousness (kinda made up for the dearth of nudity on trail i.e. boob and cock checks. Thanks to you my just got the gist that hashers embrace the human body in all it’s forms) I’ll never forget you tequila logging bird! Even though I’ve been perfectly forgettable for you… 😛 On-on!

    Ice-Pee

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