The Polish are cumming, the Polish are cumming!  

Ok, enough about what hares, Hold My Bitch and Just Tomaszjzjzjzjzjzjzjzsszjzjjzjzj do at home.  SFH3 #1622 started at the parking lot on 17th and Hampshire, because the hares wanted to make sure that those who weren’t at Bay 2 Blackout 2013 (btw B2B 2014 is right around the corner) could still experience how annoying it is to have to get out of the way for a parking/leaving car every 5 minutes.  The hares decided to invent 2 new marks, a Visitor/Virgin only check, which looked like a vagina and a Harriet only check which looked like an asshole with a crown made of tits, go figure.  After the illustrious, magnificent, and always pokorny Broken Boner gave 5 chalk talks to make sure the 50+ pack of half-minds wouldn’t be confused, the half minds were off.  Only to be promptly zmieszany.

Within a half mile the pack saw Beer Near, followed quickly by a YBF.  The hares later said that YBF meant zostałeś oszukany, referring to the fake Beer Near not byłeś przejebane.  Either way Weiner I Am, always in search, of a new boyfriend zipped up and down the street hoping to find a sexy chłopak, but instead found true trail.  There were hills, more hills, and even pagóreks.  In the meantime, Hand Pump, tired of everyone’s shit, parked the beer van at the beer check, windows open and unlocked, with a sign saying, “Kurwa, ty kurwa pieprzy, wracam do Irlandii.” Who knew he spoke Polish also?  Fortunately, the van was unmolested and Backside Banger’s butt plug collection was still in tact.  Just Doesn’t Get It explained to the Polish hares that they’re not in Belarus anymore and that in ‘Murica we are not suffering from a flour shortage and that next time they should also bake a cake.  I think he meant that they don’t have to skimp on how many marks they lay, but no one ever knows what he’s talking about.  T-Ball inspired a jogger to join the pack midtrail, the second mid-trail pick up for SFH3, but he didn’t stay long enough for circle having been scared off by visiting Ben Franklin Mob GM Uncle Bad Touch’s unique trącać.  

My Uncle’s Girlfriend was one of the last in to the beer check, having gotten lost and r*nning an extra 3 miles as a result of the concussion she had suffered earlier in the day, when she walked into lamp post while texting.  Surprisingly, both Beer Biker and Dick Weed completed the Eagle trail, even though they were weighed down by their beards which they had grown out in the hopes of picking up some leather daddies at the upcoming Folsom Street Fair.  After seeing all the pompeks that Shaft had done at the beer check, the bearded dandies were hoping he’d take them home and rough them up a little, but, no dice, Shaft’s eyes are only for Fluffer.  On All Fours celebrated her 32nd birthday cake-less, determined to keep her slim figure in the hopes of getting Cherry Poppins to take interest.  millimeterPeter did a little show and tell introducing the song “there’s a skeeter on my peter, whack it off” to many hashers who hadn’t wysłuchany it before. Our intoxicat(ed/ing) and well endowed GMs Oh Shit! and MUG presented ex-GMs mmP and Smells Like Fish, Tastes Like Bacon (in absentia) with vessels made out of "silver" in gratitude for getting us good and drunk for a year all while keeping Hand Pump out of jail. Wee Wee ejaculted, “mój hash dostać kawałek” and seeing that the keg was tapped, the pack went to Double Play.  Unfortunately, the hares thought that “closed” meant otwarte.  Ska-Skank Redemption, afraid of being sober for even a minute, started sobbing and mumbled “I want my mommy” to which Fucker said “I want her too” and Muff Daddy said “well I just had her, but how about we go down the street to Dear Mom?” And they did, and it was good, and there was MUCH rejoicing. End of memories