One can never tire of using this multi-purpose phrase. Especially when catching a rare sighting of Miss Tits For Hire setting an SFH3 hash, along with co-hare Do Me Decimal this time. They’re both always such a welcomed sight (again, phrase can be multi-purpose), and the two hares welcomed the pack to Del Sol Park in Potrero, where everyone gathered to embark on a Potrero/Mission hash.

The *un soon took us up a steep hill on the south slope of Potrero, where Shaft (another rare sighting) grabbed both Little Willy’s and Muff Snatcher’s asses to help propel him. It turns out all three were propelled. At the top, Who’s Your Daddy pontificated about how to “win the hash”, then subsequently managed to nearly get run over by a convertible Mercedes. Thankfully, though, the pack was led onto the mission flats, and to a bar on Mission Street for the beer check.

“Blah blah blah.”

-- Abraham Lincoln, November 1863 --

True story - the phrase we all love to use today was coined by Abraham Lincoln, as he leaned over and whispered it to a colleague during Senator Edward Bates’ 2 hour speech at Gettysburg, just minutes before Lincoln himself got up and delivered his historical two-minute Gettysburg Address. But what’s my point?

Here’s my point: R.A. Little Willy calls me up because I never turn anyone in for down downs, so I “write” a big game, but I come off as Mr. Nice Guy so I won’t “rat” on anyone (until I get behind the safety of my keyboard). But let’s get this straight. I am paid (big bucks, btw) to write the hash trash. It’s what I do. You don’t get a lot of blah blah blah from me. Little Willy, on the other hand, gets paid (again, big bucks) to speak. It’s what he and the other R.A.’s are good at. Do you get where I’m going with this? I’m being given a down down for not doing Little Willy’s job, essentially. So that’s what I drank for, because I never turn anyone in for down downs. Good one. Fine. I’ll take my warm Miller Genuine, thank you, but I’m already starting to write my next hash trash as I’m downing it…

Who’s Your Daddy drank because he admitted to getting a little turned on at the sight of Eat My Pussy’s bare chest as he changed after the *un. That’s ok, it takes a real man to admit that. A real gay man, but yes, a man. Splat turned Muff Daddy in for dropping a porno pic on trail. I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I would actually pick up a porno picture that Muff Daddy dropped.

Speaking of muff, I wonder why Little Willy chose to implement the Gypsies “show a body part, tell a joke, or sing a song” to newbie Just Annie. Any guesses? That’s right, because word got out that she had 2 great jokes. When the pack demanded to “hear the jokes”, Who’s Your Daddy yelled out, “We can already see her jokes!”. Turns out she’s a gynecologist, and spoke of the wonders of a diamond-studded muff, apparently the latest trend. So, meet Diamond in the Muff! (Muff Daddy, it’s the sister we’ve always wanted..).

Banana Split drank for buying pitchers at the beer check, but it was s*** beer! So drink some more..Just Milana drank an over-achievers beer for winning the mountain bike tri at Wildflower! Cumin’ Mutha turned in Shaft for falling down some stairs in Paris and knocking himself out.

Fuck Buddy stepped in to drink for Yellow Brick Load. Apparently YBL ran 2 miles naked, only to be reprimanded by his girlfriend. Oh by the way, his girlfriend is a stripper. Where’s My Vagina, ever the innocent school marm, was turned in at her elementary school where she teaches. The crime? Wearing “F*** me” pumps to school, when the standard clearly spells out nothing beyond pumps that are good for french kissing. Just John, showing a tendency to dip a hand in the chex mix a little too often, was named Party in my Hand. Finally, Nutlicker, Pump Fake, and Sniff My Box all drank for coming up with lame excuses for not being able to attend Bay to Breakers festivities.