Zombie Survivor’s Hash

On Wednesday, October 26, at approximately 6:30 pm, there was a major outbreak of a highly contagious virus.  This virus caused an intense fever and a highly sexual desire to attack and devour other people (though for most hashers, this can be considered normal behavior).  These mindless zombie beings walked the streets of Southeast Portland quickly spreading the virus to men, women, children, brides, cheerleaders, clowns, housewives, prom queens—anyone they could get their hands on.  Unfortunately, the zombies could never be satisfied because each victim was merely of half a mind.  By the end of the night we found ourselves in a post-apocalyptic world; many tried to fight off the infection with beer, only to be met with limited success.

You might enjoy this: 5 Scientific Reasons a Zombie Apocalypse Could Actually Happen

But there were a fair few who survived.  A few strong, brave wankers (and a bimbo) awoke the next morning, maybe still quite zombie-like, but alive all the same.  These cunning few knew in order to survive the virus, and the bloody rotting hands of their long-lost brethren, they had to leave the city.  So by approximately 7:00 pm on Thursday, October 27, the survivors emerged victorious.  Our survivors were: Gayzelle, Eager Weiner, Plan B, Beheaded, Goodwill Cunting, Hot Buns, Scrotum Rotor, Flaming Fart, Just Zach, Just Zach’s virgin, Romancing the Bone, Chew Toy, and Peppermint Snatch.  (Hopefully I didn’t forget anyone…)

We gathered at a nondescript parking lot in Hillsboro (just to make sure the zombies couldn’t find us) to find our hares, Chew Toy and Peppermint Snatch, looking a little worse for wear (as usual).  One by one we stumbled in, and soon realized that it was a giant, juicy sausage fest, and poor little Romancing the Bone would have to satisfy a bunch of wankers all by herself.  Fortunately, after a brief dry spell since Cockjaw’s been away, she was more than eager to do so.

We soon set off after our hare, Chew Toy, concerned that he might topple over backwards on trail. Somehow, however, Chew Toy was able to maintain his balance and ran off without ever being caught.  We ran on some pavement through industrial Hillsboro.  Then we ran in some shiggy serenaded by a marching band rehearsal.  And then we found a beer check.  Chew Toy and Peppermint Snatch were kind enough to supply us with a giant keg of McMenamin’s Terminator Stout, however, he was unable to get the beer out (this was very tragic and I was concerned for all of our safety).  As we struggled to find a way to get to the beer, a shaggy looking dude with a dog comes up to us (also in the midst of a safety meeting), “What are you guys doing here?  I manage this land.”  Oh shit, we didn’t even get to the beer yet and we’re already being kicked out.  Chew Toy explains to him that we’re a “cross country” team and will be there for only ten more minutes.  As we talk to him, we begin to realize that he’s totally cool with us on his land.  In fact, after a bit more chitchat, and his dog and Missy (Beheaded’s dog) make a love connection, we ask him if he has any tools because our tap doesn’t work.  So the landowner saved the day and brought us his entire toolbox and helped us fix our keg.  Best person who ever came to yell at us—in fact I hope I get yelled at like that all the time.  We honored him with a beer and carried on our way.

We ran through some industrial area and we ran through some shiggy. There were two more beer checks where the beer flowed freely, thanks to the shaggy stranger.  We shivered, we drank, we enjoyed.

Finally, we arrived at the On In, where we fine dined with chips and cookies, and more importantly, beer.  Honor to our hares for actually being able to get out of bed after the zombie hash!  Honor to our hounds for being a bunch of hard-core mother fucking hashers.  And, an even more special honor to our hashing elite, Hot Buns and Scrotum Rotor for making it through eleven (ELEVEN!) fucking hashes in a row.  Romancing the Bone bumbled through another Religion in Cockjaw’s stead.  There, down downs were distributed for various crimes (Party in my Crack still has our hash shit).  And then, believe it or not, we swang low.

Your scabby spoiling scribe,

Romancing the Bone


Upchucking Entrails:

Tonight: TGIF at the Alleyway Café on NE Alberta

Tomorrow: A Saturday Jaunt through Forest Park at 10 am, the 1% pub crawl through downtown at 12 pm, Chew Toy’s Birthday Party at his house in Hillsboro at 7 pm

Sunday: Chubby Chaser Bashes at noon.

Monday; Pabst and Strong Cheese do the Kahuna

Tuesday: day of rest.

Wednesday: Crab Shaft, Cock Lobster, & Double-Ho 7 do the Hump

Thursday: Cockjaw hares a comeback hash for the No Name!!


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