Dear Doctor Down-Down,
I gots a question for ya. We named a hasher a name that they didn’t like. Then they got named by one of our Grandmasters with a name they thought was more reasonable. Should we call them the name we originally named them, or the new name? They said that they would not come to our hash if we called them by the name we originally named them.
Over the Hump HHH, Virginia
Dear Ms. Knocker,
First of all, let’s remember that many hashes, including the Mother Hash, don’t use hash names. Let’s also remember Rule # 1. Now what does that tell us? Clearly, your hash is abnormal. Also, I assume from your coy use of “they” to refer to “a hasher” that the offended hasher is a harriette. That is also abnormal.
Let’s cut to the chase, Nun Knocker – you can only be talking about the harriette who was originally named Short Cunt. Perhaps Short Cunt is in fact vertically challenged. It’s not just small men who have stature issues – some wymyn take great offense at being called short. No wonder they don’t like them hash name. That is normal!
So here we are. Your hash is abnormal. You are abnormal. They is normal. The solution seems obvious to me: kick them out – they don’t belong!
Dear Doctor Down-Down,
You know I have very active dreams. Well, the one I had this morning that really frightened me. So much so that I’m considering commiting myself. I don’t know what the motivation behind this dream was: hearing about the Iguana’s buttchugging in Taos, NM or maybe it was Pussy Whipped’s on-air solo-buttchug of breakfast drinks and beer but . . . there was this waterflow buttchug happening. I don’t know who the participants were (thank goodness the alarm went off at this point) but they were former GMs of some hash (could it have been BMPH3 5 GMs?). First was a beer butt chug, then the waterflow buttchug to gross everybody out (worse tha PW’s chocolate milk chug): GRITS!
Oh my, I can see this at the Alabama Interhash now.
Pay Per View
White House HHH
Dear Ms View,
Are you sure the substance was grits? Was it whitish-grey and runny, with lumps? Did the drops splat?
Anyway, congratulations! After reading your letter Nurse Wretched had to put her head between her knees, and Sally gagged so hard she lost her grip on her crutch and fell to the floor. If Flying Booger hadn’t been so busy blowing a cup of coffee and a Snickers out of his nostrils, he’d have probably puked.
I took your letter as a challenge, of course, but had a hell of a time coming up with anything grosser than a grits butt chug. It seems that everything gross has been done, except possibly projectile curry vomiting, but that’s so inconceivable . . . well, let’s just rule that one out (eugh). Looks like you win the grossout contest. For now.
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