The European Space Agency has been looking at what it takes to construct a moon outpost.

The quiffs of breeze flick the surface of a lake to ripple not only the water also mood swings, balmy sunshine massage over forty jaunty hashers in chatting and laughing in the corner of thronged Houhai bar street. The passers-by scramble to click a big group hashers photos. Over there, it’s right second beer stop and demonstrates a comity of nations with a close harmony.

The first beer stop is clipped in a puny hutong accompanied a bicker from a bunch of the locals on their construction site. Some hashing teetotalers stand in a line to lean against the wall such as Crash Test Dummy, Muscles from Brussels, Just Byron and many virgins that looks like some intendment.

The third beer stop halts the hashers opposite a towering red ancient wall in a peaked hutong. The hashers in threes and fours chew the fat. Breakfast Included as usual tastes her popsicle including Agent Orgy and virgins. A few of vehicles fitfully pass by the hashing group. The hashers whoop, “Making a hole!”

Happy-go-lucky hashers file in and out a small and big hutongs’s vernacular architectures under the aegis of mental rotation with ebb and flow of soundwave for On On, Open Check, Two-Way and Three-Way. Breaking into dimples of ocean of hutongs and speed bump based upon cardinal points. Where the hashers lump dogs and rabbit, where sirenic proclivity is dredged up in a beaten trail sui generis and restless hashers comb through the mark at every turn, like Sink and Destroy, Chokes One Out, Whose Red Wienie, Spermaid, Waiting for It, Just The Tip, West Side Farter, Finger My Dough, Just Jonathan and so on; Just Terena rubbing elbows with visitor in sync by jogging along, as well as AutoBlow and Fetus Envy, etc; Dazed and Confused spots two statues of squabby demigod in the trail and hastens to sit close to them for a team picture; Chippendale sprints a last length to a finishing end; BlowJob as hare stays the rear for not stray hasher by a long shot; Rub It as cohare gives gentle reminder to the hashers in the trail effectuates her last run in Beijing for a launching pad of qualitative change of her life; a gaggle of gressorial hashers meet up the runners all beer stops shepherded by Super Squirter as walking hare, who’s selected on the spot; CumShot works on Hash Cashier in the beginning; Karat oft brings in young virgins, Roger Rabbit with big smile comes back as long-time-no-see, and what have you.

Hash restaurant is settled in BJ’s home studio in typical local courtyard in an intricated hutongs of downtown as one of best ever home-made roast for the hashers. With a Hash red flag denoting an emergent year in China since 1979, the celebrating circle takes place in a zigzag hutong behind the home base. Bearded Clam and Pussy Nibble crowning their GM’s head-dresses compere hashing performance. First off, three hares swig their gig by using an urinal in turns; eight virgins accept their welcoming ceremony and little gift with Hash song; Heart On and Just Yogi score their BJHHH No.10 run patch for a drink separately; Pickle Boy acquires his BJHHH No.200th run mug and patch as well as a pot of dainty cucumber pickles and delivers a shortest speech, “Hark! Hark!”; a young lady volunteers to be BeerBitch with the help of MfB; AO jumps on the back of COO compare to BC rides on the shoulders of WSF to emblem an equitation’s tacit understanding; Puppy and Jingo wallow in teasing each other in circle; Dry Hole and Comes On Vocation function SongMaster to perk up each and every episode vividly and assuredly; Lost in Mark and Spencer as RA leads a chorus of Swing Low with dance-like gesture of following all on site to remain with property of Hashers. The most are steeped in chewing hashing food to hashers’s liking for vegans and omnivores. Needless to say, BJ’s seasoning must be ebullient music rhythm after dinner that soon shakes off calories by rolling together for a while, then some head to different bars for a holiday nightlife.

The next day’s night, fifteen hashing moon buffs gather to southern hutongs quarter called Qianmen. There’s a home bar to provide a space for hashers’s bags for long time. But when local hasher asks local bartender for a stash and then is turned down without any reason. When COO as GM or a lady or non-local asks it, there’s not any problem to go through. No wonder strange phenomenon that a local semi-psycho is disturbing the customers without scruple. What a “thriving” business zone wearing the colored glasses! And the quality never changes, nothing but decorated spacious environment that can charge price more and more. Say, the price of hash beer went up nearly double. FMD and PB run away for first part of hare. Close-packed hutongs in straight and oblique pattern suck the hashers into a dim darkness. FMD plays a first time for a FMH hare and stops to dither the place for mark or not; PB also attempts to find a new trail to move on. Unluckily there’s no any small shop for setting a beer stop. Just at the time of looking for a small shop, DH with amazing speed catches up with this pair of shitty hares (according to tradition, the hares are required to strip down the pants if being caught by the hashers).

No goddamned small shop along the main road. The hares have to move back a bigger loop to a business zone again, flustering off to a hutong and then fix the first beer stop, after a while, the hares have to wechat the hashers a GPS to nose out the flour mark. In a jiffy, gasping hashers hit it in succession from no marked trail and noise about a shitty trail. Sip and talk take up for a short time. COO disappears whip and spur to mark the next trail. Only two walkers who have gone back the starting point midway such as Karate and Just Oma. Young girl virgins are more with slap and tickle to tag after the foregoers. A block of hutongs by a block of hutongs fill with figures and shouts of the hashers and some dilapidated rubbles where rare place is good for snapping a picture like CTD does; Tits Qualm still follows the marked trail; WRW yells out either on right or on left at the same time, which confuses the followers; FE has to waddle along with baffling trail. Some have been home restaurant by tracing old marks. Alert CTD carves out a way to ferret out a real trai; FMD’s phone GPS guides a direction as well; Just Kailee holds her open mind to hotfoot it. Afterwards, the second beer stop is digged out at an open corner. All drink and converse for a moment and suddenly beware that JTT is not here. Perhaps bright moon makes the hashers moony. While all look forward to him, JTT shows up from another dark hutong that amuses the hashers; DH has scatted for last hare.

Shortly all scream to chase away in snaky hutongs. The part decelerates the hashers on the streets edgewise and run its course. COO’s right discretion survives a lost layover and the hashers spring into action to marked trail and thru cramped hutong and caffeinated hutong. Out of the mind, reach at home restaurant as the hashers bucket out of murky unimpressive hutong. WSF turns up for a latecomer. A diminutive circle is established at the end of hutong. Toast together for four hares and then four virgins. DH has become smack of hashing opera pope by singing aria one after another for every single scene. Quickset celebration midwifes all hashers to raise the heads to howl a bright moon although it’s obstructed by high rises. Ten eaters bolt down all northwestern meal with brisk sense of humor from DH till midnight.

On On…

Pickle Boy

Beijing. Tuesday,

May 05, 2015