SFH3 Run #1752
: 01/25/2016
: Ruth Asawa SOTA
: Handpump, Hoseblower & Ultrahead
: Do Her Well

Thirteen years of foggy hashing, miles spent of shiggy thrashing,

Ultrahead, Hand Pump, and Hoseblower with gin astride galore.

While we travailed trail espying, Just Michelle her phone a’dying,

Hashers with their shirts off, shirts off just like common whores

“Tis unending,” said I, “But nothing I’ve not seen before.”

Quoth Just David, “God, I’m sore.”


Just Michael with his toothbrush running, thoughts of pleasure he had a’coming

Vagina Dentata was he, and Just Michael breathed no more.

While Just Evan with new shoes a plenty, brought by Chicken Bone Her and Cunty,

Confusion reigned with these shoes, shoes unworn to hash before

“Fuck if I care,” said I, “drink from shoes someone else wore,”

Said Saigon and Cockagami, “I’ll drink more!”


While Menage and Cunty had a knife fight, Zippercised had found his Bud Light,

Aaron with his headphones on still found hashing quite the bore.

Just Summer with her card a’ready, could not keep her hands quite steady,

Searching with her flashlight for the card upon the floor,

“Ask the hash,” said I, “With your shirt off they’ll help you explore!”

Cried Dick Simmons, “Show no more!”


Had you the fate of Bitch’s Bitch, you’d find the hash had made a switch,

Eat My Pussy and the websex had triumphed over phones of yore,

While some relied on family ties, as Bum Sucking Electric Fag’s lies,

Had graced his brother with a helmet, one which he dutifully wore,

“He’s thirteen,” said I, “Give him water, I implore,”

“But virgin you are no more!”


Twas then that the hash grew restless, the keg was kicked, food a big mess,

But Pliny was to be auctioned, auctioned to the bidders craving more,

Lined up were the anxious crowds, Roman Showers calling aloud,

Numbers telling us who the beer was for,

“Tears of Semen!” said I, “You’ve won just like you’ve won before!”

Replied Tears of Semen, “Suck it, whores.”



The End.