6th Running of KDH3MC
February 23,2002

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Cycling Wankers begin to arrive at our predetermined wheels up time of 10 AM. Hangovers are in abundance due to the previous night’s "Welcome Home FIST FUCKER" Celebration. ROTTEN CHERRY reluctantly rides bitch behind SPANKIN’ GRANNY’s Fat Boy, and what a fine lookin’ bitch she was. 3 DOLLAR BILL was on his Fat Boy, PRISON PUSSY was complaining of a sore bung hole from the night’s incarceraneous activities in county lockup and gingerly stepped down from his rice burner. CHEMO rode in on his Police Special and BLUE BALLS was on his Springer, all gassed up and ready to ride. Four wheeled Chariot Riders, DILDO DIVA, GUAMAHREA BALLS, TE-KILLYA TITS, TITTER TWATTER and MAXWELL TWAT, piled into DILDO’s convertable or some other mode of transportation. FIST FUCKER will sweep behind the whole motley crew picking up parts, beer cans and possibly a bike or two. After a briefing on motorcycle etiquette, lewd singing to the amusement of the early morning strollers and massive amounts of coffee and taquitos we’re off and heading south for the land of manana, mordida, cheap beer, Mexican whores, Donkey Shows and international Hashing ... Ah, the life of a Hasher!

By the time we got to Robes-Town, we had already lost our Sweeper, but technology prevailed and we were soon reunited and on our way. F2 claimed he was following "Bad Trail". Another stop was made in A-Lice and F2 and B2 switched conveyances for the next arduous leg to Freer where we again stopped, urinated, hydrated, masturbated and then vibrated On-Across the Painted Horse Desert to our fabled destination: the border oasis of Laredo, Texas. At the freeway, lo and behold, parked at a filling station, appeared our brother, DUDE, WHERE’S MY DICK, straddling his brother, GAYLORD FOCKER. No, maybe that’s wrong (of course it was wrong), he was straddling his YamaHondaSu-suckee with blacked-out, mega-loud straight pipes. After a backslapping, embrazoed reunion we all started up our bikes... except for the "dude looking for his dick". Not only did his license plate blow off, but also his battery was dead, which didn’t really surprise anybody. Moments later his steed was push-started and roared to life. We were all again headed south in an ear-piercing cloud of dust.

When Trail ended at the Rio Bravo, we hooked a right and the two-dozen or so Hashers checked into a room at the La Posada Hacienda – "10 parking passes and one room, please". GUAM couldn’t wait to mark his territory and set off a 3.5 Richtor Scale of a tremor in the bathroom, which sent all the other Hashers scurrying like cockroaches on a pile of Chad.

We found a beer stand at the George Washington’s Birthday Festival in the Plaza in full swing across the street and waited for DILDO DIVA to try to clear up some blemishes on her fake work permit with the INS.

But soon it was ...TIME TO HASH! CHEMO and BLUE BALLS set Trail while THE DICK-LESS DUDE and F2 followed behind whining in unison and fondling each other. Trail was awesome, and I’ll now turn the narration over to DUDE, WHERE’S MY DICK. From this point forward, I take no blame or credit; the above lies are mine, the following lies are his:

"So there we were, trying to decide where to run to when all of a sudden DUDE, WHERE’S MY DICK stammered some unintelligible garble in Spinach (Spanish) and it was Hares Away. With F2 and DWMD behind CHEMO and BLUE BALLS to set False Trail and Beer Checks. We were slow due to FIST FUCKER and his back (in case you didn't know he fell 40 feet and ruptured a disc and herniated 4 others... yeah, ow)(Big fuckin’ deal. Editor). We took the short route to Mexico while CHEMO and B2 ambled off to the north madly marking Trail and then looped back toward The Land Of Enchantment. As we were crossing the bridge, B2 says, "hey, don't lose the change you have so we can get back across" This was said just as his old, arthritic, geriatric hands lost the grip on all his change and he deposits all into the wishing well that is the Rio Grande. HAHAHA. (Fuck You. Editor) .So anyway, we're off to set more False Trail.

First Stop takes us by the Tecate cafe racer car and some of the hottest women to be found south of the border (other than the tramps that $3 BILL was macking in boys town) and F2 and I nearly forgot about all others in existence. We make it to the Cadillac Bar, nice B2, yeah it's only where all the would be Fresas (what kind of made-up, friggin’ word is that? Editor) and upper scale people are dining at. F2 and I shoot each other a sideways glance and agree to get beer and wait outside for the Hounds. When they arrive, they have to drink and sing a song before going on to the next stop - an underground bar with a monster keg at the door. So we get there and everyone has Nectar flowing freely. I step into the restroom to say hi to my brother, uh... I mean my penis. :) And of course the guy standing next to me is shoveling cocaine into his nose (such a nice man, he looks at me with this look of: what? You're not getting any and say hello) yikes.

Needless to say, we're off to the next joint, The Horseshoe (La Herradura). As we walk in, there are 3 TVs, with XXX films going, the waiter says/slurs; I can get you anyone of these hotties (Read hotties as no less than 250 lbs) So we tell him some people will be coming to drink and partake of the women folk. We’re off to the On-In at some other bar, and there we are, waiting and waiting, searching and searching and B2 and Chemo are nowhere to be found. We finally found them in another bar, with Chemo saying, "Did you follow True Trail?" Uh, no, but you told us you would be there at the Eldorado Bar! Moral of story: "never trust a Hare" (no shit. Editor)

Anyway, beer at 3 dollars (I think not, let's go) Then at Religion (see below. Editor), which was in the pisser of a bar called Gomez's, I kid you not, we went to the back and in the space between the men’s and women’s restroom we had Religion, with Longoria, the waiter guy, behaving very well and taking good care of us :) We're off, even CHEMO and BLUE BALLS got escorted to the door by Longoria so no one would mess with us. Cuz I gave him a good tip duh, and here it is: "When confronted with a Hasher, bend to your knees and rejoice for he is a Hasher" hehehehe.

So off we go now to the market for nick-nacks and more Nectar. After shoveling much food into face we head back for everyone to change and get ready for boys town. We leave and get a taxi in Mexico - off we go. It's B2, ROTTEN CHERRY, SPANKIN’GRANNY and myself. Everyone else went to an ATM and was told to meet us at Papagayos. We get there and start ordering beer, when the crew arrives... T3 (formerly known as PRISON PUSSY as soon as I get my hands on the renaming gun) GUAM, TE-KILLYA TITS, TITTER TWATTER (can you see the T3 reference coming) MAXWELL TWAT, CHEMO, 3 DOLLAR BILL, D2, B2 and F2, and I think that is it. TITTER had noooo clue we were in a whorehouse, she thought the girls were sales personnel I think :). So we leave there since no one was willing to part with 80 dollars for 30 minutes of "me fucky sucky all you want" (insert bad Mexican accent). Although, credit where credit is due... there were some great looking women there. So we go to the taco stand and made that guy rich, by eating half his inventory of fajita tacos and beans with fajitas. The girls (read: TE-KILLYA and DILDO DIVA are dying to see the Mexican Donkey Show so they go and miss it by mere minutes. We head (head, who said head...) off to another "bar" (read – brothel. Ed.) and do some more drinking and then after a good while its time to go home so we do.

The next day, I awaken at about 5 am (don't ask why) to the melodious sound of CHEMO snoring (hey, in case you don't know it... CHEMO snores) hehehehe, so does TITTER TWATTER, 3 DOLLAR BILL and PRISON PUSSY, and you know I do. So I wake to the log sawing competition, go drop off some kids at the pool, the others don't want off the bus yet. Come back and sleep, then I go again, then everyone's up, D2 has to get back to C2 for work, and goes to the bathroom and CHEMO runs in there and sets and pinches a loaf off! (Nasty... but he's a Hasher) and then the smell permeates the room, must've been those Mexican beans. Next it F2 leaves a present, and for that we send for local cameraman extraordinaire: GUAM (your gay lover), who comes running to answer the call for a pic of the pooh, so they can post it on ratemypoo.com. After all are ready, I get a ride from D2 to mom's and shower and change and head (who said head...) back to the hotel to load my bike up, which of course has no license plate (blew off on the way up there) into my truck and get ready to go and eat and go home. As I see PRISON PUSSY coming at me, I ask him if he got the Taste of TITTER TWATTER out of his mouth yet... yeah, that's right, they were making out at Papagayos. He turns red and bows his head in shame (punk, wool is wool)

Needless to say, T2 had no clue what happened and couldn't remember and had to go and embarass P2 more by asking him if it were true. P2's response: "Yeah, can we not talk about that anymore?" HAHAHAHAHAHA. Anyway, after that it was good byes and off we were. So needless to say, you, my dear brother missed out on one excellent Hash and a great time, wish you could've been there. Hope to hear from you soon and see you soon as well. Take care, God Bless. (Blatant display of incestuous, homosexual, brotherly love and adoration. Ed.)

Your brother,
Marcos (a.k.a. dwmd)"

Religious Advisor – ROTTEN CHERRY presiding
(Motorcycle Down-Downs were suspended)

Shitty Trail – CHEMO, BLUE BALLS, DUDE WHERE’S MY DICK, FIST FUCKER
Ugly Arses – PRISON PUSSY, F2, CHEMO, GUAM
Private Pachanga – DILDO DIVA
Pissing at Religion – Just Chuy, Just Hoto, Just Rosa, Just Consuela, SPANKIN’ GRANNY
Visiting RAs - GUAMAHREA BALLS: Larrikin’s Kennel, CHEMO: C2H3
Hash Crashers – MANGY TWAT, Just Greg, Just Ted
Distinguished Visiting Hashers – TITTER TWATTER, MAXWELL TWAT, TE-KILLYA TITS
Inability To Follow Trail - DUDE WHERE’S MY DICK, FIST FUCKER
Not Drinking Enough - $3 DOLLAR BILL
Many Other Infractions – THE WHOLE FUCKIN’ GROUP

On-On-On

The last hazy remembrances from that momentous day/night were as follows: Mexican Donkey Show, Tacos Y Frijoles, CHEMO’s Hot Sauce Explosion (missing genitalia by mere inches), Gallons Of Nectar; Cab Ride From Boys Town; CHEMO’s Hiccups; Una Mas Cerveza In Loud, Packed, Hot Bar; CHEMO’s Disco Pantomime; DILDO DIVA Begging For A full body cavity, Strip Search; Blackness On The Floor.

Sunday the troops rallied and reassembled for departure and then had a huge Mexican brunch. The TITS and TWATS departed for San Antonio and PENDEJO, A DONDE ESTAN MI VERGA limped off for parts unknown. The remainder of the KNUCKLEDRAGGERS mounted up and roared off due east. We encountered an 80-knot southly breeze between Alice and C2 that had CHEMO’s and PRISON PUSSY’s cheeks peeled back to their ears – their bikes are sans windshield.