The Voodoo were once again treated to a delightfully long and extremely interesting trail. Rain Gods kept us dry, children guided us to bars, and the dead greeted us, the living dead, as we sped past their final resting places clad in our finest zombie attire. Hobo Rodeo bit the bloody bullet and had foul tasting blood dripping from her fangs, Isis was running around with an ax in her skull no doubt a victim of No Cunt-trol turned zombie – egads! 

Not all were able to finish the trail – Bostonian Fuck That Hurts surrendered to the oppressive New Orleans climate, pussy-bitch Fill Me Up short cut the trail along with some others. Miraculously Dickey Wong Stocking was the FRB!? Perhaps there was too much flour on trail!! Quite some time after the arrival of the FRB an eerie glow was spotted zigzagging about in the darkness near trail it turned out to be none other than Will Bang For Beer. Shockingly predictable he was leading Tighter Twat and Show Me Your Posse in a high speed – oops- low drag race to BEER.

Circle was the usual circus led by Lack-a-Virgin Hey. Congratulations to all the award recipients!! And remember keep cumming back, it works if you work it! Missionary went home topless!

 - M.I.

Pastor's Grand Plastic Suppository (GPS) didn't want to record the first half of trail, so here's the 2nd half:

Well, here's the much-overdue hash trash for VooDoo #83.  You'll have to forgive me for being such a lazy asshole and not writing the Trash until almost the day of the next hash.  Or don't forgive me; because whether you like it or not you're getting a late Trash, so quit your bitchin and get back in the kitchen.

VooDoo #83, yet another Uptown hash, will forever be known as the infamous COCKTEASE HASH.  Our hare Lack-a-Virgin (Hey!), through his ninja-like skills of forethought and planning, was somehow able to successfully divert the beer truck and send it directly to the on-in.  The result of this botched clusterfuck was to force you dumb shits to run a good 4.5 miles without any sign of beer or refreshments.  And he totally planned it that way all along.

Despite this entirely intentional bungling, which was mostly the fault of his clueless co-hare, no one died of dehydration! (we think... did everyone show up at the on in? ah, whatever)  I guess Lack-a was just sick of looking at all your flabby upper arms, you fat bastards, so you can just skip your complaining because you know you need the workout.

I should also mention that this week's hash bore the theme:  "Lack-a-Car," due to Lack-a's unique ability to drive AND not pay attention at the same time!  Okay, so it's not so unique; it's one of the many things he has in common with Asians and women.  Luckily, he fixed the old jalopy just in time to drive it drunk on Thursday night.

Anywho, we didn't have any virgins to torture this week, but we were lucky enough to have a visitor from good ol' Jacksonville, Mississippi, and we'll be happy to have him again.  Come back anytime, Cock Ring Master.  I think you and Bitchy Retardo could really get along—you'd could talk about your cock rings for hours (so typical: someone from the Jax HHH being named something totally gay).

You would think a beerless 4-mile trail would inspire some beer guts to shrink, but somehow a bunch of our walkers wound up with more liquor sloshing through their innards than when they left!  The lazy fucks stopped at Rendezvous and made us wait for them to have Circle.  Batteries was gone for so long I wonder if she got laid in the meantime.  Good for her.

As for the rest of the hounds, they had to work their butts off to find Lack-a's haphazard trail... which surprisingly was not as confusing as the usual Lack-a trail!  This likely led to suspicion and further confusion: "Could Lack-a really have laid a followable trail???  There must be a logical explanation for all this..."  But then, like a flash, here comes MISSIONARY IMPOSSIBLE to the rescue, making a perfectly good trail as confusing as hell!  But despite her going the wrong way, everyone else was able to easily find trail and re-direct her.  Well, don't worry folks: I'm sure there are plenty more "Lack-of-Trails" to come.  And the only way you can help make a better trail is to lay one yourself you lazy bitch, so c'mon and sign up to hare an upcoming hash!

Our Circle, as ever, was filled with clever jibes and rousing singalongs, topped off with a very special "Justice Department" version of Hash Religion, sung by Lack-a-Virgin, who was dressed up as the infamous Judge SotomayWHOOOOORRRREE.  And props go out to the newly-named HOBO RODEO, who was the only other wanker to dress up this week! (she came as a Chevy... i.e. she came hard like a rock)

A bunch of us went to the lovely Avenue Pub for an on-after where we ended the night with some draft beer and burgers.  Life is sweet.  Your dear Trash author stayed out late enough to have an encounter with Slam Bam Thank You Lamb:  this crazy bastard showed up around 1:00am, after coming back from the airport, and long after everyone else had left, "just to see if anyone was still around."  Whatever, man, you and I both know it's because you got no friends.  Your secret's safe with me.  And everyone who reads this.

And so, finally, well after 2:00am, I stumbled out of Avenue Pub and went home to write the Hash Trash... but promptly fell asleep.  Eventually, after jacking off all weekend, I managed to scrawl some words on a piece of paper:

"Well, here's the much-overdue hash trash for VooDoo #83.  You'll have to forgive me for being such a lazy asshole..."

ON-OUT

And now, maps courtesy of Pastor's Genital Pleasure Slave (GPS):

Part 1:

Part 2 (despite not having any beer):

Last week's trail was laid on super thick by Virgin Hare Just Danielle and Veteran Hare Tidy Bowl Man!  After a sliiiiight change in starting venue (which surprisingly didn't confuse any visitors or late cummers), the Hashers were taken on a Carousel ride through the CBD and FQ, which included what might be a record number of Checks (or not).  No Hashers were lost by the first beer stop, who arrived several minutes before the actual beer truck did.  S'all good.  It was also rumored that Tighter Twat was spotted on trail, even though he wasn't hashing, which might have repercussions later on.  Only time will tell. 

As the Hashers came into the final stretch in front of Cafe Du Monde, Pastor Bait-Her's sexuality was once again called into question by some beignet-eating mutha-fuckers who were treated to a parade of monkeys, cats, unicorns, a rouge parrot, and other animals and shit.  The trail ended at the now defunct Voodoo Spiritual Temple on North Rampart, and an on-after was held at the Starlight by the Park lounge, whose not-very-believable tranny bartender was totally cool with the doggies.

Oh, and yours truly, Just Danielle, was named "Hobo Rodeo" in a beautiful, flour-filled ceremony beating out names like "Hobosexual" and "Vagabondage". Missionary Impossible was threatened to be (eventually) renamed, and for good reason.

And in a technology-tracking-trail experiment, here's the route as tracked by the Pastor's GPS ( Global Penis Serenade ):

The day after this Thursdays PINK! hash, Le Bon Temps is hosting the Tchoupitoulas Bar-A-Thon! 6 bars, 6 miles, 6 beers.

Get on it, VooDoo!

http://www.tchoupitoulasbarathon.com/home.php