BFM #521 The AGM Goes Down Down Down Down…

It was February 6th, 2014. The world prepared to usher in the Winter Olympics against the backdrop of terrorist threats and poor accommodations, President Obama nominated openly gay judge Darrin Gayles for federal judgeship, and Jay Leno once again stepped down from his seat as host of the Tonight Show for the second time. So many of these things resembled the events of the BFM’s somethingth Anal General Meeting (I think it was our 10th) on what was yet again a brutally cold night in the City of Philadelphia which has become all too commonplace this winter season. There were sporting activities under snow laid conditions with threats of “It’s fucking cold so this trail better be short!” Members of the BFM with alternative sexual preferences (mainly masturbation, sadomasochism, and I am pretty sure bestiality) were nominated to dishonorable positions. And finally those who held aforementioned positions were stepping down, some for the second time in as many years.

So many of the BFM were in attendance to lay witness to the shit show that is our anal event including: Chef Boy or Horse, Gay Mathews Lamb, Shop & Fuck (THAT’s ME!), C-Men ++, Taco…I Barely Know Her, Rear Engineer, Spare My Finger (Auto), Tits of Steel, Barbara Bush (Auto), Urine Luck, Groundhogs Lay, Rubber Ripper, Chorizo Curtains (Auto), Manual Fiesta, Sideshow Bob Job (Auto), Cause for Blindness, Just Liz (Half Auto?), Vaginacologist, Flounder, Semen on the Poop Deck, Bareback Mountain (Auto), Pissing in a Bottle (Auto), Lump Neck Muncher, Wishboner, Splash Back, Just Alicia, Just Angie, Tube Cock, Just Gary (not for long), Hold the Sausage (Auto), Midnight Tranny to Georgia, Jug Stains, Can You Hear Me Now, Jewbacca, 23rd Cumosome (Auto), Auschwitz Hole Is That (Auto), He’s A Lesbian, Cumming Tonight, Up Her Ali, Just Ozzy, Uncle Bad Touch via Cell Phone (Christ, we can’t get rid of this guy even when he leaves of his own volition), Stocking Stuffer and Michael Jack-off. Apologies to anyone else I missed but you guys need to do more crazy shit so I can remember you were there.

So we all gathered that evening at the wonderful Bru Craft & Wurst on the 1300 block of Chestnut. A lovely establishment which welcomed us with open arms, reserved tables, and a lovely helpful wait staff. If only they knew the havoc we were about to unleash within the walls of their establishment I am sure they would have had second thoughts. It was brought to our attention earlier that day that it is tradition that the outgoing GM lays the last trail as a dead trail so that we can keep the pack together and on-on schedule. As we all know Chef is not all that outgoing by his 1.5 year reign as GM as an example. But none the less our fearful leader laced up, gabbed his flour bag full of balls and some painters tape and headed on out. I accompanied Chef on his travels so as to witness the end of an era and so I can bring you the blow by blow of the trail. He bounded out the back door of Bru and decided to head down an alley which was no more than a crack in the wall south to Sansom. This proved to be the first challenge for the pack as when trail started a disheveled young miscreant (resembling any number of hashers) was standing in entrance of that slim alley having a smoke, but leave it to Groundhogs Lay to be at ease shimmying past this person as they both had similar facial hair with which to bond over.

Our hare then hopped on down to Broad where he proceeded to lay trail down the center of traffic leading straight north to City Hall and right on through where he laid an check plain as day in the open space and then shot across traffic on his way to Love Park…and of course a member of the local teamsters union proceeded to park his truck right on top of the check as if he were in cahoots with our hare. And yet the pack somehow managed not to be thwarted by our tricksy hare and found their way on-on. The hare still up to some more scheming laid down a right awful circle jerk round the fountain in Love Park before leading trail west over 16th through the Penn Management Center grounds over to 17th where he took us back south over the suburban station concourse down to Market Street and then over to the Clothespin thus completing what was an even larger circle jerk around the whole City Hall area. CREEP. Now I wasn’t there for the majority of the pack that found their way down into the underground by the Clothespin where trail headed but when I came through later I found a very confounded Manual Fiesta who usually leads the pack scratching his head around the top of the steps.

Now trail was particularly confusing in the underground as our hare had to elude the transit authority and probably homeland security as he slapped painter’s tape anywhere he could in order to lead the pack through the concourse west crossing beneath trail and over to the 18th and Arch exit where he then sent the pack past our former half year GM’s last abode(what the fuck was that guy’s name?) and then on over to the parkway where he again went west past the science museums until he eventually brought us to BEER! Cherry Street Tavern, or as our Hare had mentioned earlier in the day, “Jose Graces’ favorite under the radar bar.” Not so under the radar when our thirst ravenous and bitterly cold yet sweaty pack arrived. So there was BEER!, pictures, and a lot of flirting, ball busting, and cursing of the cold still to be had.

Trail then went south out of Cherry Street down to Walnut then back east to Rittenhouse Sq where the Hare mercifully avoided another circle jerk and sent us straight to Locust and then down into the PATCO underground so as to keep the pack warm. Such a merciful hare. Once trail found the Broad St concourse it was pretty much straight on in to finally rejoice in the AGM festivities where there was BEER! Food. BEER! Music. BEER! Hot, sweaty, sexy people. AND BEER! Eventually once everyone’s thirst was quenched and bellies full (and meter’s paid) it was time for…

HARES:  Chef Boy or Horse (and I may have had a hand in his despicable trail)
FIRST IN/LAST IN:  Hole Patrol / Semen On The Poop Deck
VIRGINS:  Just Alicia and Just Angie both made cum by our sinfully sexy Splash Back (thank you for providing us two more sexy bodies for the rest of the debaucherous pack to gawk at)
VISITORS:  We sadly had none…fuck’em. We would have called Lumpy and Wishboner in but we didn’t want to get kicked out of the bar before mismanagement was announced…plus they are here more often than me.
CUM LATELYS:  Urine Luck (I was in another city…lame), Bareback Mountain (I had work and school…lame), Pissing In A Bottle (I had school…lame), Lump Neck Muncher (I am too sexy for you losers…true), Wishboner (I am too wanted by other hashes…lame), Splash Back (I had school…lame), Tube Cock (I am Canadian), Midnight Tranny To Georgia (of course he has a really cute excuse), Stocking Stuffer (I was growing a beard…lame), Rear Engineer (I was working…in my garage in a super awesome new BEER! concoction…SHARE…lame), Can You Hear Me Now (I have been doing this since before you were born, give me a break…NO…lame), He’s A Lesbian (I was jumping out of moving objects thousands of feet in the air…blah blah blah…lame), Michael Jack-Off (I hash once a year…smart), Up Her Ali (I’m Happy…well we’re not so get your sexy ass back here!)
NEW TO THE BFM THIS YEAR:  Barbara Bush, Groundhogs Lay, Rubber Ripper (absorbed), Just Liz, Just Alicia, Just Angie, Just Ozzy, Vaginacologist (absorbed), Cumming Tonight (absorbed), Hole Patrol (absorbed), and Just Gary (who knows where the fuck that guy came from)
NAMED BY THE BFM THIS YEAR:  Barbara Bush (something about waking up in the middle of nowhere with pearls on), Groundhogs Lay (something about doing the same thing a year later and not remembering), Sideshow Bob Job (are you kidding me…just look at that amazing hair of hers…sort of self-explanatory), Chorizo Curtains (formerly Quart for an amazing trick she performed…now CC for a contest she won or possibly lost), Stocking Stuffer (something about a pair of missing stockings at the Hash NYE party at the Green St. Apt.), Bareback Mountain (because he’s sexy and he knows it and he ain’t afraid to show it), Pissing In A Bottle (cause when a mans gotta go a mans gotta go), Auschwitz Hole Is That? (BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…that shits just funny), Just Gary (NOT YET GARY…be patient)
BFM HASHERS OVER A YEAR LESS THAN FIVE:  Chef Boy or Horse, Gay Mathews Lamb, Shop & Fuck (THAT’s ME!), C-Men ++, Taco…I Barely Know Her, Spare My Finger, Tits of Steel, Urine Luck, Chorizo Curtains, Manual Fiesta, Sideshow Bob Job, Semen on the Poop Deck, Bareback Mountain, Pissing in a Bottle, Stocking Stuffer, Michael Jack-Off, Lump Neck Muncher, Splash Back, Tube Cock, Jewbacca, 23rd Cumosome, Auschwitz Hole Is That, He’s A Lesbian, Up Her Ali
BFM HASHERS FIVE YEARS AND MORE:  Rear Engineer (a little over too long), Cause for Blindness (since the beginning of time), Flounder (since before the beginning of time), Wishboner (she was at the second one), Hold the Sausage (since before things got really interesting), Midnight Tranny to Georgia (since when things really did get interesting), Jug Stains (since when shit just got real), Can You Hear Me Now (I think I heard he was the first hare…sucker!)
THIS YEARS BFM TRAVEL HASHERS:  The acts I bared witness to from these truly depraved human beings caused me many a night waking in pools of sweat from nightmares with only the satisfaction of masturbating to their pretty little faces allowing me to fall back to sleep: Chef Boy or Horse, Gay Mathews Lamb, Shop & Fuck (THAT’s ME!), C-Men ++, Taco…I Barely Know Her, Rear Engineer, Spare My Finger, Tits of Steel, Barbara Bush, Urine Luck, Groundhogs Lay, Rubber Ripper, Chorizo Curtains, Manual Fiesta, Cause for Blindness, Vaginacologist, Flounder, Semen on the Poop Deck, Bareback Mountain, Pissing in a Bottle, Lump Neck Muncher, Wishboner, Splash Back, Just Gary, Hold the Sausage, Jug Stains, Jewbacca, Auschwitz Hole Is That
PRIOR YEARS MISMANAGEMENT:  These are the people who really got the ball rolling on fucking it all up: Chef Boy or Horse, Rear Engineer, Tits of Steel, Cause for Blindness, Tube Cock, Hold the Sausage, Midnight Tranny to Georgia, Can You Hear Me Now, He’s A Lesbian, Up Her Ali
CURRENT YEAR MISMANAGEMENT:  Chef Boy or Horse, Gay Mathews Lamb, Shop & Fuck (THAT’s ME!), C-men ++, Taco…I Barely Know Her, Rear Engineer, Spare My Finger…Seriously? That is all that is left? I would say we were decimated but we lost far more than one in ten.
ACCUSATIONS:  There were many and I promise in the future I will record them all, but amongst them were Lumpy and Wishboner for being fully clothed (BOOO), and same goes for Bareback Mountain (again BOOO). Just Liz, Tits of Steel, Just Gary, Just Ozzy and Chef for being soulless gingers. Spare My Finger, Hold the Sausage, Up Her Ali for Gossip Girls (and 23rd Cumosome and Chorizo Curtains for Gossip Girls guilty by association). Tube Cock, Rear Engineer, and Manual Fiesta for being the Gossip Boys. Manual Fiesta and Hole Patrol (the OAAC who actually ran before coming to the hash) for after only a month of living together are already dressing matchy matchy, and same goes for Urine Luck and Groundhogs Lay (they are BFFs and just so darn cute), and while on the subject of matching there were the gleaming domes of Tube Cock, Just Gary, and He’s A lesbian. And of Course Barbara Bush for insisting to Just Liz that she not get dressed in running attire as there was no way there was going to be a trail for AGM…and instead of just auto-hashing Just Liz actually did trail in civilian clothes while the Bush came later and auto-hashed. In a similar story Splash Back’s virgins, while instructed to wear running attire showed up without (in a ploy to get into Splash Back’s pants which she happily obliged) but without any sneakers to lend, both virgins did trail in Uggs.
2014 MISMANAGEMENT:  And with that Chef climbed up onto the table and made his final proclamation as GM of the BFM that the newly erected officers were:
          HABIDASHER:  Chef Boy or Horse…wait a minute, who was doing the vote count again?
          HASH CASH:  Where’s My….what? Really? If you say so. Hole Patrol (I am pretty sure everyone voted for Britney Spears but this was the prettiest bleach blond we could find to accept the position)
          ON-SECTS:  Barbara Bush (If she is half as funny with the written word as she is in circle then trash will be half as funny as she is in circle), Taco…I Barely Know Her (returning to pile up the trash much like he did last year), Cause for Blindness (we’ve seen so many sides of Cause, might as well see what’s in her head too), and Shop & Fuck (THAT’S ME!)
          RELIGIOUS ADVISORS:  Tits of Steel and Manual Fiesta. BAHAHAHAHAHAHA…they actually accepted the positions…HAHAHAHAHA.
          GRAND MASTER:  And finally, the most depraved and masochistic of us all was determined to be…GAY MATTHEWS LAMB…Three years in a row the GM will be named after a farm animal.

I will be posting “Overheard At The Hash” live via twitter each week. Follow me Shop & Fuck @shopnfuck on twitter. Also tweeting updates of where we are so you can come join us.

DO SHOTS, DON’T GET SHOT with the Philly Full Moon Hash next Friday February 14th gathering at 7:30 at Urban Saloon in the Fairmont section of Philly. Pack off at 8. This is quite possibly the best single hash of the year…unfortunately nobody ever remembers what happened so we will never really know.

Tube Cock’s balls are salty and sagging as illustrated with great dramatic gestures by none other than Tube Cock himself.

Come hare the Philly Hash. Every Saturday somewhere in the greater metropolitan area until summer when it is every Tuesday. SIGNUP TODAY! Plus Rear Engineer is the new GM…so its got that going for it.

It is Bareback Mountain’s Birthday…so side-side we did do. And as hottest ladies this side of anywhere proceeded to hoist our musclebound man from Crossfit for his side-side song as lead by new RA Tits of Steel, it was discovered that the little shit wore loafers…LOAFERS…and for that his shoe was removed and handed over to the wait staff where they promptly hid it in the kitchen…cause that’s where she likes!

Just Gary is leaving us and heading to back to Korea where he came from and wants to let us know he may be back in the summer but had a great time with us…what a dumb fuck…and for that we immediately brought him into circle to be…

NAMED:  Now because we had all been drinking a lot of BEER! from the open bar we really didn’t have a whole lot of time we wanted to spend on this mush mouthed soulless ginger from Korea so we named him the most obvious thing we could…and so we welcome to the BFM…UNCLE FIST HER…He’s a hasher, He’s true blue…

And thus was circle closed by our new RA’s and well into the night hashers drank BEER!, laughed, danced, sang, flirted and creeped out the teachers that didn’t have school tomorrow because of power outages.  Since there were so many beautiful hounds and harriets out that night yours truly couldn’t help but get into the fray right up until everyone got so smashed that they began smashing their glasses against the floor telling me it was time to high tail it out of there (glasses were smashed by accident and not on purpose mind you as that is a major hash foul as our virgins are well aware, BEER! only goes in you or it goes on you…)


Shop & Fuck

3 Responses to “BFM #521 The AGM Goes Down Down Down Down…”

  1. Urine Luck says:

    S&F, if you want to keep people updated on the BFM’s activities and all that jazz, you could always try to take over the BFM’s twitter account (@bfmh3) from whoever has access to that. I dunno how many people follow it, but it hasn’t been updated since last August. You should fix that.

  2. Shop & Fuck says:

    Thanks for the brilliant suggestion, UL. The @bfmh3 will be revived this week!

  3. Shop & Fuck says:

    Additional notes to this trash include: Hole Patrol and Black Cock Down were also in attendance. Black Cock Down hasn’t cum lately cause she was protecting a nation or something…lame. And Hole Patrol passed on our unfortunate hash horn so recently relinquished by Cock Cock…Who’s There to Rubber Ripper who by the end of the night was blowing the brown note with relative shame.

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