Chuck Snorris Hash
Friday, December 21st
Firehouse Bar and Grill
2006 Hickory Road
We’re all still here! The only Armageddon taking place today is inside my head (Head!? Who said head!? Everyone did last night including the singer, Doug, who stopped mid song to let us finish screaming about taking some of that).
Why I woke up this morning on the smallest couch at the JAJA, I cant say (When in Rome), but I did (And I liked it). My voice is gone from singing loudly and frequently (Call me maybe? No!? Just Cake and Sodomy? Ok, but Fifty’s not here), my nose is cut from an incident with my headlamp (Just plug the cut with some trash), my desire to return to any of those bars we stopped at last night is non existent (Meth? Who has meth?) and I’m having flashbacks of a Dirty Gap reverse dirty birding (Coitus not interruptus especially if its on a bar stool).
And thank G, Scat remains unbreakable in the eyes of all hashers (Can’t say the same for the sled). The condition of the stump remains unknown (I’m sure that if it survived its in hiding and afraid for its safety).
I’m hungover, and my mouth tastes like Rug Burn’s finger (I think they call it the bad touch).
I love you all,
Blazed and Confused