Song

Reader be warned: The material contained in the Half-Mind Hymnal has failed every test of decency, sensitivity, and political correctness known to mankind.  This songbook is profoundly offensive . . . but then, so are hashers, and they are the audience for whom the Half-Mind Hymnal is intended.

A note on copyright.  In spite of the fact that the penultimate line on the last page of this collection says “Half-Mind Hymnal (c) 1993-2001 by Paul ‘Flying Booger’ Woodford,” over ninety percent of this songbook is most definitely NOT protected by copyright.  The copyright refers to my own introductory comments and the manner in which I have arranged the songs, and to the songs I wrote myself.  You’re welcome to copy the songs I wrote, but please credit them to me.  The rest of the material in this songbook is in the public domain and belongs to all of us. The Half-Mind Hymnal is a collaborative effort: hashers all over the world share hash songbooks and favorite tunes with me, and in turn, I encourage you to copy and share anything here that catches your fancy.

The Half-Mind Hymnal is a work in progress, constantly growing.  When I started this collection I knew about 100 songs; this edition contains more than 600.  If you know songs you don’t see here, or melodies to songs labeled “unknown,” please send them to me for inclusion in future editions.  I’ll be happy to give you credit.  My address is in the back.

The Half-Mind Hymnal is dedicated to hashers everywhere. Special thanks are due to ZiPpY, Bollox, Beaver Bam Bam Balls, Ian Cumming, Sauer Krotch, Dum B.U.F, Mu-Sick, Neptunus, Sodbuster, and several non-hashers: Derek Cashman, Ed Cray, and the cast of perverts who contribute to the Bawdy List.  Thanks also to the authors of hash songbooks and to the hashers – too many to name – who contributed songs to this collection. Finally, thanks to the pilots of the USAF and NATO fighter squadrons in the Second Allied Tactical Air Force who started me singing and taught me the basic repertoire.  Without their inspiration this songbook wouldn’t exist.

Note to Song Masters: I’ve had great success teaching new songs to hashers by copying one or two numbers from this collection, then handing out copies at the circle after the trail.  It’s a great strategy to get people singing, and probably the best way to use this songbook.

 

On-On!

 

Flying Booger

Song Master at Large

Songs and other material in the Half-Mind Hymnal are arranged in the following categories:

DOWN-DOWN DITTIES AND HASH RITUALS

– Songs, chants, etc, to liven up the circle and down-downs

HASH ANTHEMS

– Songs celebrating specific Hash House Harrier kennels

SONGS ABOUT HASHING & HASHERS

– Songs about hashing & hashers, what else?

OUR ANIMAL FRIENDS

– “I put my finger in the woodpecker’s hole . . .”

THE SPOKEN WORD

– Poems, toasts, recitals, etc

SWEET LOVIN’

– “I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours . . .”

HASH CALISTHENICS

– Songs to get the pack movin’ & shoutin’

FAMOUS HARRIETTES

– Shocking, just shocking . . . sexism at its worst!

FAMOUS HARRIERS

– “With a yard-and-a-half of foreskin hangin’ down below his knees . . .”

IN VINO VERITAS

– Celebrating drink & drinking

HASH HOLIDAYS

– Seasonal ditties & carols

HASH STANDARDS

– Ah, there’s nothing like the classics!

JUST PLAIN SICK!

– “Who can take a fetus . . .”

YANKEE AIR PIRATES

– The songs that got me started

DOWN-DOWN DITTIES & HASH RITUALS

Autohash Song

Beery Bunch

Birthday Songs

Blessing of “G”

Blessing of the Hares

Does a Hasher

Dumb Shit

Farewell Song

Ft Eustis Down-Down Songs

Hash Benediction

Hash House Harriers

Hasher’s Prayer

Hash Pledge of Allegiance

Hash Rules

Hashin’ Brew

Heineken, Schmeineken

Her Left Tit

Here’s to _______ (Basic Down-Down Song)

Here’s to Brother Hasher(s)

Here’s to the Stud (s)

He’s a Born Again Pisstank

He’s a Hasher, He’s Okay

He’s the Meanest (two versions)

He Wanks His Crank

His One-Skin

Ice the Bitch

International Hash Hymn

Meet the Hashers

Mister Blue Balls

Naming Ceremony

No Blow Song

Our Lager

Piss Off, Ya Wank

Salutations

Shiggy Soggy

Short Hymn

Soldier Song

Sound of Hashers

Thank God She Finally Shut Up

There was a Little Bird

They Ought to be Publicly Pissed On

This is Your Down-Down Song

Viagra

Virgin Serenade

Visitor’s Song

Wedding Ceremonies

Wedding Song

We’re Here Because . . .

We’ve Got Virgins

What a Wank

Where Were You Last Week?

Why Are We Waiting?

Why Was He Born so Beautiful?

Why was She Born a Bitch?

Yankee Doodle

You are Our ______

Zicky-Zacky (expanded version)

Zulu Warrior

AUTOHASH SONG

Melody – Dear Lord, Won’t You Buy Me a Mercedes-Benz

Words by Flying Booger

Used to honor autohashers

(International version)

Dear Lord, won’t you give me a ride to the beer,

My friends are all drinking, and I’m stuck out here,

I’ll ride in a lorry, rickshaw, or tuk tuk,

If you drive me there I’ll throw in a down, down, down, down . . .

(USA version)

Dear Lord, won’t you give me a ride to the beer,

My friends are all drinking, and I’m stuck out here,

I’ll ride in a Chevy, a Ford or a truck,

If you drive me there I’ll throw in a down, down, down, down . . .

 

THE BEERY BUNCH

Melody – Brady Bunch Theme Song

By Koresh, Las Vegas HHH

Here’s the story,

Of a thirsty hasher,

Who was running at the back of a  pack.

Every bad trail that there was,

Well he found it.

He must have ran for miles!

It’s the story,

Of some sacred nectar,

That was chilling with a mind of it’s own.

It was one beer,

Sitting in the cooler,

Yet it still had no foam.

Till the circle,

When the hasher met the nectar.

And he knewwww it just couldn’t stick around.

That’s when his shorts went down around his ankles

And the beer became a down down down down down!

A down down down!

A down down down!

That’s the waaaaayyyyyyy it became a down down down!

BIRTHDAY SONGS

______

BIRTHDAY SONG # 1

Melody – Happy Birthday to You

Happy birthday, fuck you,

Happy birthday, fuck you,

Happy birthday, you asshole,

Happy birthday, fuck you.

Drink it down, down, down . . .

______

BIRTHDAY SONG # 2

Melody – Happy Birthday to You

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday to you,

You look like a hasher,

And you smell like one too.

Drink it down, down, down . . .

______

BIRTHDAY SONG # 3

Melody – Here’s to _____, He’s a Blue

Composed by Flying Booger for Scratch ‘n’ Sniff’s 30th

Here’s to (name), she’s true blue,

It’s her birthday, boo hoo hoo,

She is (age) if she’s a day,

Wishes she were younger,

But there’s no way!

Drink it down, down, down . . .

______

BIRTHDAY SONG # 4

Melody – Oliver!

Composed by Bach ‘n’ Forth, Palm Beach HHH, in honor of Shortcake’s 50th; included here on the off-chance it can be adapted for other hashers’ birthdays

You’re 50 years old, Shortcakes.

You’ve finally reached half of a century.

We hope you’ve got what it takes . . . to stay . . . a-live till you’re 51!

Maybe it’s time to take some respite from these trashing days; the end of your hashing days is near . . .

Let’s hope the Chester the Molester doesn’t kill you first with that home-brew shit he calls beer!

You’re 50 years old, Shortcakes.

Here’s wishing you lots of luck . . .

And hoping that the future holds in store for you . . . 50 more years to fuck!

______

BIRTHDAY SONG # 5

Melody – The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You

Contributed by ZiPpY

Your day of birth is now upon you,

You’re older by one day,

Your day of birth is now upon you,

And now you’re gonna pay,

The Hash is gonna lay it on you,

You dirty bastard (bitchin’) hound,

Your day of birth is now upon you,

Drink it down, down down down down

______

BIRTHDAY SONG # 6

Melody – Ta-Ra-Ra-Boom-Te-Aay

Contributed by Nose Candy

This is your birthday song,

It isn’t very long . . .

 

Drink it down, down, down . . .

______

BIRTHDAY SONG # 7

Melody – I’ve Been Working on the Railroad

Contributed by Hazukashii

Your day of birth is now upon you,

You’re older by one day,

Your day of birth is now upon you,

And now you’re gonna pay.

The Hash is gonna lay it on you,

You dirty bitchin’ hound,

Your day of birth is now upon you,

Drink it down, down, down, down, down . . .

BLESSING OF “G”

Optional prayer offered by the religious advisor before the hash, from Shuttle Cock of the Houston HHH . . . should be performed in the style of a Catholic/Episcopal dismissal

RA:    The buzz which passes all understanding,

Keep your hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of hashing,

And the Blessing of “G” all plastered:

The Flour (make first slash of “X” in the air)

The Sun (complete the “X” in the air)

And the Short Cut that pays off (make circle around “X” in the air)

Be among you and remain with you always.

Go Forth to Love and Serve the Hash.

Pack:    Thanks be to “G!”

BLESSING OF THE HARES

Optional prayer offered by the religious advisor before the hash, with local embellishments. This version is from the Tampa HHH

Bless these hares,

Bless this trail,

Coppus no catch us,

Farmer no shoot us,

Doggus no bite us,

Heatus no stroke us,

Plenty of cold beer to drink,

Coitus non interruptus.

DOES A HASHER?

Melody – Do Your Balls Hang Low?

Does a hasher like to walk,

Does a hasher like to run,

Does a hasher like to be where they’re having all the fun?

Can he drink a 12-ounce beer,

While his friends all sing and cheer,

Now your time has come.

So drink it down, down, down . . .

DUMB SHIT

Melody – Refrain from Music Man

By Black Flag, Aloha HHH, Hawaii (good song for violators)

Dumb, dumb, dumb shit,

Dumb shit, dumb shit,

Dumb, dumb, dumb shit,

Dumb, dumb, dumb . . .

FAREWELL SONG

Melody – Auld Lang Syne

Composed by Flying Booger in December 1994, on the departure of Down, Under, and family, included here because it’s simple and can easily be changed to fit the names of your own departing hashers

Here’s to Down and Under,

And Slinky, and Blue Hawaii,

Who leave us for Australia,

We’ll miss you very much.

Drink it down, down, down . . .

 

 

  1. EUSTIS DOWN-DOWN SONGS

Melody – ???

From the Ft. Eustis HHH Songbook

 

TO VIOLATORS:

All: You worthless, sniveling piece of trash,

Now you’ve gone and shown your ass!

GM: Your behavior’s unfit!

You must learn hash tradition!

All:  So charge your vessel and assume the position:

On your knees, asshole!

Drink it down, down, down . . .

TO THE SLOW DRINKER:

All this time that you’re taking,

I know that you’re faking,

We could be masturbating,

I fear.

Now we’ve run out of song,

And we won’t get along,

Until you finish,

That fucking beer!

HASH BENEDICTION

By P’Tooey, Calgary HHH

Gispert guide us on this hash,

As along the trail we dash,

Guide our feet on ice and snow,

As to the drinkstop we will go,

Let the moon so brightly shine,

Leading us to beer so fine.

HASH HOUSE HARRIERS

Melody – The Addams Family

Their drinking is compulsive and

Their running is convulsive,

They’re morally repulsive,

The Hash House Harriers.

CHORUS:

Da da da da (snap fingers twice)

Da da da da (snap fingers twice)

Da da da da, da da da da, da da da da

Their flatulence is rude and

Their genitals protrude when

They’re running in the nude in

The Hash House Harriers.

They’re always shiggy tracking

From constantly bush-whacking,

Intelligence they’re lacking,

The Hash House Harriers.

Da da da da, Down Down, etc . . .

HASHER’S PRAYER

From the Global Trash Hash Bible, by Stray Dog

God bless Gispert, hallowed be his name.  His hash be laid on earth as it is in Heaven.  Give us this day our daily Beer.  And forgive us our Ah-Shits, as we also forgive those who pissed us off.  And lead us not unto temptation to Short-Cut; but deliver us to the On-In.  For the beer is cold, and the Pack is thirsty for ever and ever, Amen.

HASH PLEDGE OF ALLIEGANCE

By SS Minnow, Buffalo HHH

I pledge allegiance, to the flag, of the (insert your hash here) hash house harriers.

And to the debauchery, for which it stands, one hash, without rules, incorrigible, with shiggy, and beer, for all

HASHIN’ BREW

Melody – That Good Old Mountain Dew

By Seldom Comes

They call it that good ole’ hashin’ brew, brew, brew,

And them that refuse it are few,

You’ll hush up yur mug,

When you down-down yur jug,

Of that good ole’ hashin’ brew.

Chug it down, down, down . . .

HEINEKEN, SCHMEINEKEN

Chant

Heineken, schmeineken,

Fuck that shit!

Pabst . . . Blue . . . Ribbon!

HER LEFT TIT

Melody – My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean

Her left tit hangs down to her belly,

Her right tit hangs down to her knee.

If her left tit did equal her right tit,

She’d get lots of weenie from me.

Drink it down, down, down . . .

HERE’S TO ________ (BASIC DOWN-DOWN SONG)

Melody – Itself

______

VERSION # 1

Here’s to        ,

He’s true blue, (he’s a blue)

He’s a Hasher,

Through and through,

He’s a pisspot, (he’s an asshole)

So they say,

Tried to go to heaven, (he’ll never get to heaven)

But he went the other way, (in a long, long way)

So drink it down, down, down  . . .

______

 

VERSION # 2

Here’s to        ,

She’s a damn fine gal,

Here’s to        ,

She’s a damn fine gal,

So drink, chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug,

chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug,

Here’s to        ,

She’s a horse’s ass.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, etc . . .

 

 

HERE’S TO BROTHER HASHER(S)

Melody – Ach, Du Lieber Augustin

Contributed by ZiPpy, Pike’s Peak H4

 

Here’s to brother (sister) hasher,

Bother hasher, brother hasher,

Here’s to brother hasher,

May he chug-a-lug.

 

He’s happy, he’s jolly,

He’s fucked up by golly,

Here’s to brother hasher,

May he chug-a-lug.

 

So drink motherfucker,

Drink motherfucker,

Drink motherfucker,

Drink motherfucker,

Here’s to brother hasher,

May he chug-a-lug.

 

 

HERE’S TO THE STUD(S)

Melody – For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow (sort of)

By S&M&M&M&M Man, Cleveland HHH, Ohio

 

Here’s to the studs, the studs, the studs.

Here’s to the studs who are with us tonight.

 

They eat it,

They beat it.

They really

Mistreat it.

 

Here’s to the studs who are with us tonight.

 

So down chug-a-luga, down chug-a-lug-a . . .

______

 

(alternate version)

 

Here’s to the studs, the studs, the studs.

Here’s to the studs who are with us tonight.

 

They’re faggots,

They’re maggots.

When they suck it

They gag it.

 

Here’s to the studs, who are with us tonight.

 

So down chug-a-lug-a, down chug-a-lug-a . . .

 

 

HE’S A BORN AGAIN PISSTANK

Melody – Unknown

Contributed by Mike “SmallBone” Featherston

 

He’s a Born again pisstank cause he’s seen the light

Of the big neon sing that spells pub.

His prayers have been answered

His cup runneth over

As if he had heard from above.

 

It’ll seem like an angel will piss on his tonsils

Or that horny young barmaid herself

His life’s been made different

He’s a born again pisstank

And the rest can all go to Hell!

 

Drink it down down down down. . . .

 

 

HE’S A HASHER, HE’S OKAY

Melody – Lumberjack Song

 

He’s a hasher, he’s okay,

Works all day, comes out to play,

Drinks it down without complaint,

Or he wears it well.

Drink it!

Wear it!

Drink it!

Wear it!

etc . . .

 

 

HE’S THE MEANEST

Melody – Itself (similar to Okinawa HHH melody)

 

He’s the meanest,

He sucks the horse’s penis,

He’s the meanest,

He’s a horse’s ass.

 

All he does is pound it,

Ever since he found it,

He’s the meanest,

He’s a horse’s ass.

 

He’s always pissing on us,

He’s rotten and dishonest,

He’s the meanest,

He’s a horse’s ass.

 

So drink it down, down, down . . .

 

(and a variation)

 

She’s superior,

She’s got class,

She’s superior,

She’s a horse’s ass.

 

Drink it down, down, down . . .

 

 

HE WANKS HIS CRANK

Melody – Itself

By Mud Fucker, Bay City HHH

 

He wanks his crank in the morning

He wanks his crank in the night

He wanks his crank with his left hand

and he cleans it up with his right.

 

So drink it down, down, down . . .

 

 

HIS ONE-SKIN

Melody – My Bonnie Lies Over the  Ocean

 

His one skin hangs down to his two skin,

His two skin hangs down to his three,

His three skin hangs down to his foreskin,

His foreskin hangs down to his knee.

Drink it down, down, down . . .

 

OPTIONAL VERSES:

Roll back, roll back,

Roll back his foreskin for him, for him.

Roll back, roll back,

Please roll back his foreskin for him.

 

His body lies over the ocean,

His body lies over the sea,

His father lies over his mother,

And that’s how they created him.

 

 

ICE THE BITCH

Melody – Do, Re, Mi

By Long & Hard, inspired by ZiPpY, dedicated to She Mussel Bitch

 

Ice the bitch, She Mussel Bitch,

Numb, the price you have to pay,

Sit, right there and down that beer,

Yes, you pissed off the R.A.

Damn, your ass is getting red,

And, your lips are turning blue,

Place, that mug above your head,

And prove you downed that brew.

 

GENERIC HARRIETTE VERSION:

Ice the bitch, yes ice the bitch . . .

(same as above)

 

GENERIC HARRIER VERSION:

Ice the wank, yes ice the wank . . .

(same as above)

 

 

INTERNATIONAL HASH HYMN

Melody – Swing Low, Sweet Chariot

Note: gestures accompany words

 

I looked over Jordan and what did I see,

Coming for to carry me home,

A band of angels coming after me,

Coming for to carry me home.

 

CHORUS:

Swing low, sweet chariot,

Coming for to carry me home,

Swing low, sweet chariot,

Coming for to carry me home.

 

I’m sometimes up and sometimes down,

Comin’ for to carry me home,

But still my soul feels heavenly bound.

Comin’ for to carry me home.

 

If you get there before I do,

Coming for to carry me home,

Tell all my friends that I’m coming too,

Coming for to carry me home.

(repeat with variations: humming and motions only, silence and motions only, double-time)

 

 

MEET THE HASHERS

Melody – Flintstones Theme

 

Hashers, meet the hashers,

They’re the biggest drunks in history,

From Las Vegas, N-V (or your favorite town),

They’re the leaders in debauchery.

Half minds, trailing shiggy through the years,

Watch them as they down a lot of beers,

Down down, down down down down,

Down down down down down down down down down,

Down down, down down down down,

Down down down down down down down down down.

 

 

MISTER BLUE BALLS

Melody – Zip-a-dee-do-dah

By Yank My Wad, Charleston HHH (a good song for calling the hares to the ice)

 

Zip-a-dee-do-dah, zip-a-dee-day,

My oh my, what a miserable lay.

Haring is great but, beerings the best,

Time for your down-down, put the ice on the chest.

 

Slap your ass cheeks ’round that ice hole, it’s a fact, it’s irrefutable, it’s cold right on your pubicals.

 

Zip-a-dee-do-dah, zip-a-dee-day,

Down-downs are better than your miserable lay.

 

Mr. Blue Balls formed an icicle

He’s all cold and furry too, better find something to screw

 

Oh zip-a-dee-do-dah, zip-a-dee-day,

Hope you like ice, ’cause that’s where you’ll stay.

 

 

NAMING CEREMONY

Contributed by Stray Dog

 

RA: Prostrate yourself before your fellow hashers.

(Hasher kneels or lies prostrate on the ground in accordance with local custom, with assistance from mismanagement as necessary)

RA: Before you are initiated into the fold and bestowed the holy Hash Name, what have you to say for yourself.

Hasher: I’m not worthy.

RA: (reads verses)

  1. In the beginning was the Hash, and the Hash was with Beer and the Hash was Beer.
  2. The same was in the beginning with Gispert.
  3. The same came for a witness, to bear witness of the Hash, that all men through him might believe.
  4. And when he was baptized, went straight up and received the Down-Down.
  5. And lo a voice from heaven, saying, this is my beloved hasher in whom I am well pleased.
  6. Not by the works of righteousness we have done, but according to the mercy of the Pack are you saved, by washing of regeneration, and renewing of the holy Thirst.
  7. Therefore if any person be in the Hash, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things become new.
  8. Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed as a competitor, but alive as a member of the Pack, to boldly go forth on the trail and pursue the Holy Hash Beer.

(RA grasps the bag of hash and sprinkles it on the Hasher)

RA: I baptize you in the name of Gispert and all other great hashers who came before you.

(RA sprinkles beer on the Hasher)

RA: Your friends have gotten together and chosen your name and you will hereafter be known as ____________.

(As local tradition dictates, the rest of the pack may be issued flour and beer to further ‘baptize’ the hasher)

RA: Rise and cleanse thy soul.

(The hasher is handed a beer and does a down-down in accordance with the traditions of the hash)

 

 

NO BLOW SONG

Melody – Looney Tunes Theme

Composed by Flying Booger

Used for honoring hashers who have forgotten their whistles

 

You seem somewhat forgetful,

Remind you?  Maybe this’ll,

Next time you come, don’t be so dumb,

Just bring your fucking whistle!

 

 

OUR LAGER

Prayer

 

Our Lager

Which art in barrels,

Hallowed be thy drink.

Thy will be drunk,

I will be drunk,

At home as in the tavern.

Give us this day our foamy head,

And forgive us our spillages,

As we forgive those who spill against us.

And lead us not into incarceration,

But deliver us from hangovers.

For thine is the Beer, The Bitter, and the Lager,

Barmen.

 

 

PISS OFF, YA WANK

Melody – Auld Lang Syne

 

Piss off, ya wank, piss off, ya wank,

Piss off, ya wank, piss off,

Piss off, ya wank, piss off, ya wank,

Piss off, ya wank, piss off.

 

 

SALUTATIONS

Melody – ???

 

We call upon __________

To give us a song.

So sing, you fucker, sing!

And if you don’t sing

You can show us your schwing.

We don’t want to see your moldy old schwing!

So sing, you fucker, SING!

 

 

SHIGGY SOGGY

Melody – Zicky Zacky

By Greatful Head and Purple Helmet, Bay City HHH

 

Shiggy Soggy,

Shiggy Soggy,

ON-ON-ON!

 

Shiggy Soggy,

Shiggy Soggy,

ON-ON-ON!

 

Drink it down, down, down . . .

 

 

SHORT HYMN

Melody – Amen

 

(with reverence)

Hymn, hymn, (Her, her,)

Fuck him . . . (Fuck her . . .)

 

 

SOLDIER SONG

Melody – Itself

 

Asshole, asshole, a soldier I will be,

To piss, to piss, two pistols on my knee,

For cunt, for cunt, to fight for my country,

Asshole, asshole, asshole, asshole,

A soldier I will be.

 

Drink it down, down, down . . .

 

 

SOUND OF HASHERS

Melody – Do, Re, Mi

 

Give (name) a beer, a really big beer,

We will watch him drink it down.

Girls, you know if he drinks it all,

He will never get it up.

Oh, the stories sad to tell,

It picked up and then it fell.

You would die if you could see,

(name), slap his tiny wee-wee.

 

 

THANK GOD SHE FINALLY SHUT UP

Melody – Looney Tunes Theme

Contributed by the Agana HHH (Guam), an excellent down-down song for harriettes

 

Thank God she finally shut up,

She’s always fuckin’ bitchin’,

Now drink your beer, get out of here,

Get back into the kitchen!

 

 

THERE WAS A LITTLE BIRD

Melody – Itself

 

There was a little bird,

No bigger than a turd,

A-sittin’ on a telephone pole.

He ruffled up his neck,

And shit about a peck,

He puckered up his little asshole.

(point at violators): Asshole, asshole, asshole, asshole,

He puckered up his little asshole.

 

 

THEY OUGHT TO BE PUBLICLY PISSED ON

Melody – My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean

 

They ought to be publicly pissed on,

They ought to be publicly shot,

They ought to be tied to a urinal,

And left there to fester and rot,

Drink it down, down, down . . .

 

 

THIS IS YOUR DOWN-DOWN SONG

Melody – Ta-Rah-Rah-Boom Te-Aay

Contributed by Nose Candy

 

This is your Down-Down song,

It isn’t very long. . . .

 

 

VIAGRA

Melody – Doe, a Deer

Contributed by Slimie Limie, Kobe HHH, Japan

 

Give ______ some pills, the famous ‘V’,

We will watch him eat ’em down.

Boys, you know if he takes them all,

Tonight he’ll never get to sleep.

Oh, the story fun to tell,

How, it rose and never fell.

Girls, you’d laugh if you could see,

______ beat his rock-hard wee-wee wee wee wee wee wee.

Drink it down down down down.

 

 

VIRGIN SERENADE

Melody – Ball of Ballyknure

Composed by Dr D, Ft Eustis HHH

 

Four and twenty (or however many there are) virgins,

Came out to this old hash,

And when the hash was over,

There were four and twenty less.

 

CHORUS:

Singing, balls to your partner,

Arse against the wall.

If ye canna get laid at this old hash

Ye’ll never get laid at all.

 

OPTIONAL VERSES:

This fine young virgin SHE was there,

She had drank a bit too much,

Showing us her titties,

But sayin’ we couldna touch.

 

This cocky virgin HE was there,

Drinking Old Milwaukee’s Best,

Showing the girls his tiny dick,

The girls they weren’t impressed.

 

This other virgin SHE was there,

Talkin’ ’bout givin’ head,

But when it came to swallowin’,

She would spit instead.

 

This other virgin HE was there,

Askin’ ’bout toe sucks,

The harriettes frowned and then they said,

“What do you want for three bucks?”

 

The other virgin SHE was there,

Givin’ us all a great view,

While dancing on the table,

She said she’d do the crew.

 

This other virgin HE was there,

Getting drunk as he could be,

And by the time the circle broke up,

He’d pissed a gallon of pee.

 

This fine young virgin SHE was there,

With legs all firm and tan,

Her shorts rode up her ass so tight,

They squeaked whenever she ran.

 

 

VISITOR’S SONG

Melody – Underdog Theme

By Hazukashii

 

SONGMASTER:

There’s no need to fear!

 

PACK:

We’ve got lots of beer!

 

When visitors in this hash appear,

And pay five bucks to drink our beer,

And offend all those who see or hear,

The cry goes out both far and near to,

DRINK IT DOWN

Drink it down

DRINK IT DOWN

Drink it down,

Speed of lightening, roar of thunder,

Chug it down, or show us Chunder,

Drink it down. . . . .

 

OPTIONAL SECOND VERSE:

When in this world the Hash Trash reads,

Of those who think they’ve come to breed,

And steal hash things from those who need,

The call goes out with blinding speed to,

DRINK IT DOWN,

Drink it down,

DRINK IT DOWN,

Drink it down,

Speed of lightening, roar of thunder,

Chug it down, or show us Chunder,

Drink it down. . . . .

 

 

WEDDING CEREMONIES

______

 

WEDDING CEREMONY # 1

Contributed by Stray Dog, Global Trash

 

  1. Dearly intoxicated, we are gathered here in the presence of the Pack to join this hasher and this harriette in holy mattress monkey.

 

  1. Attesting to their dreary and lonely lives, they have now resolved to end each future hash by going home and getting lucky every time without need for self-gratification or technology.

 

  1. We come to celebrate the end of their wanking ways and to cheer in the joy of sex outside masturbation.

 

  1. (insert hasher’s name), do you take this harriette for better or for worse, on the rag and in health, on bad hair days and good, to have and to hash with until death do you part?

 

(Hasher answers)  “I do”

 

  1. (insert harriette’s name), do you take this hasher for better or for worse, in vomit and in shiggy, with his farts and his smell, to have and to hash with until death do you part?

 

(Harriette answers)  “I do”

 

  1. Please raise your beers and repeat after me. With this beer, I thee wed.

 

(Both)  “With this beer, I thee wed.”

 

(RA leads pack in a down-down song of his choosing or local tradition and the bride and groom drink at the appropriate time, after which . . .)

 

  1. I now pronounce you hasher and harriette, doomed to spend the rest of your lives running the hash together. May you go forth and multiply, bearing many new little horrors to fill our trails.

 

  1. You may now moon the pack.

 

(The pack showers them with spewed beer and hash as local tradition dictates.)

______

 

WEDDING CEREMONY # 2

Contributed by Cold Cuts & Slave to the Mattress, Ft Eustis HHH

 

Dearly incarcerated, we are gathered here today to celebrate the bondage between Slave to the Mattress and Cold Cuts.  This day signifies the end of the ability to come and go as you please, of freely ogling members of the opposite sex, of innocently flirting without repercussion, and of making that monumental decision, “Should I go to the hash?” without first wondering what your cellmate, I mean soul mate, already has planned.

 

Is there anyone present knowing of any reason why we should not consider Slave and Cold Cuts permanently sentenced to life in holly mattress moaning?

 

Cold Cuts, do you take Slave to the Mattress to be your hashing partner until the beer runs out?

 

And Slave, do you take Cold Cuts, to be your sole provider of vaginal stimulation until impotence sets in?

 

Cold Cuts, repeat after me:  I, Cold Cuts, promise to be sexually satisfying, to be submissive or dominant at Slave’s  request, and to give adequate notification before farting in the bed.

 

Slave, repeat after me:  I, Slave to the Mattress, promise to tell Cold Cuts to go to hell when he asks me to  obey , to be understanding of his addiction with the hash, and to learn that velvet tongue technique as soon as possible.

 

May I have the handcuffs?  These handcuffs are a symbol of Cold Cut’s and Slave’s sentence to life.  A life of never ending trails of shiggy and whining hashers and twisted ankles and explaining to civilians what hashing is and separating hash socks from white socks and most importantly, beer and down-downs.

 

Please handcuff the couple.

 

A note for the fools!  (song)  Drink it down, down, down, etc . . .

 

By the power invested to me by the State of Drunkenness, I now mispronounce you harrier and harriette.  You may tongue the bitch.  Mazeltof!

______

 

WEDDING CEREMONY # 3

Contributed by Spinal Tap, White House HHHH

 

Dearly Besotted,

 

We’ve cum here (cum, who said cum, I’ll have some of that) today to do a whole lot of drinking, partying, and making asses of ourselves.  As part of the last activity, two of our favorite people have asked to be joined in unholy mattress monkey in front of their friends and co-degenerates.  As one of the senior members of the DC area Hashing community (not counting DCH3, of course), I have willingly volunteered to make this ceremony as meaningless as possible.

 

I am being disably assisted today by my chorus of “AMEN” sayers.  Please feel free to join in at the appropriate (or inappropriate, for that matter) times. AMEN!!  (The chorus consisted of 8 people in choir robes, which I had purchased at a local thrift shop for about $2 each, just in case we might need them sometime)

 

(I read the new ‘prayer’ here…”Our beer, which art in barrels, etc”)

 

As we come into this world unclothed, and without sin or shame, it is my firm belief that every important occasion in life should be celebrated in the same fashion.  Let’s face it…all of us have had very important occasions in life where clothing was totally irrelevant and unwanted.  AMEN!!  Therefore, will the happy couple please come forward and remove all your clothing?  (You don’t really have to, but I thought I’d give it a try).  (Actually, the groom started to, but we stopped him before it got ugly)

 

(remove ice bag from cooler, place on top.)

 

Please be seated. AMEN!!

 

Please state your names and who made you cum.  OOPS – that’s for virgins, so you definitely don’t have to do that. AMEN!!

 

The lucky [groom]. AMEN!! The not-quite-so-lucky AMEN!!  Harriette is [bride].. AMEN!!

 

As I understand it, [bride] found [groom] lying in a muddy gutter after a normal Hash run and took pity on him.  Unfortunately there was a water shortage at the time, so in order to clean off the mud she performed a ‘golden shower’ on his filthy body.  He knew then that this was the woman for him AMEN!!  After all, a woman whose piss tastes like Milwaukee’s Best Light doesn’t cum along every day AMEN!!

 

Although they realize that this joining together means the end of freely groping members of the opposite sex (ogling and leering are still OK), they have resolved to end each future Hash by going home together and getting lucky. AMEN!! AMEN!!

 

At this time I would like to quote from a book dealing with the pure love a man and woman can have for each other.  Insert a reading from some book or other here  (something you find in a little storefront shop, with painted over windows).  Finish with AMEN!! AMEN!!

 

[groom] do you take [bride].  to be your wedded bimbo, for better or worse, on the rag or available, on bad hair days and good, through shiggy and pavement, at least until the rabbit dies?  (Pause for “I do”, and AMEN!!)  And do you also promise to be always sexually satisfying, whether dominant or submissive? (Pause for “I do”, and AMEN!!)  And do you also promise to be understanding and supportive of all her whims, unless they interfere with Hashing? (Pause for “I do”, and AMEN!!)

 

[bride]. do you take [groom] to be your wedded stud muffin, for better or worse, whether clean or covered with shiggy, at least until he starts to need Viagra? (Pause for “I do”, and AMEN!!)  And do you promise to be patient and give him all the help he needs to achieve tumescence (that’s a hard-on, for you illiterates), even when it’s frozen from sitting on the ice? (Pause for “I do”, and AMEN!!)  And do you promise to aid and abet his Hashing activities, and to provide bail money when necessary? (Pause for “I do”, and AMEN!!)  And do you promise to not bring home any blue dresses with cum stains on them? (Pause for “I do”, and AMEN!!)

 

[groom] repeat after me.  I, [groom], (groom repeats  words) … promise to love and lust after [bride]. …through good trails and bad…through deserts and swamps…on or off the ice…in tents or in motel rooms…until she can’t stand me any more. AMEN!!

 

[bride], repeat after me.  I, [bride].,…promise to treat [groom] as well as I treat my dog…to welcome penetration at any time or in any place…to keep my teeth smooth…to spit discreetly…and to ensure there is always beer in the refrigerator… until someone better comes along. AMEN!!

 

The happy couple has requested a double ring ceremony…may I have the rings, please (cheap plastic handcuffs)? These rings are a symbol of the union of  [groom] and [bride]. These rings are round, and remind them to do a lot of running around in circles, particularly on trail.  As these rings join their bodies together, so does this ceremony join their souls together (not to mention heels and ankles).  AMEN!!

 

May we have a beer for the lucky twosome?  (Sing “Why Were They Born”)

 

By the power invested in me by the [think of something, like the name of the appropriate Hash], I now pronounce you Hasher and Bimbo.  You may tongue each other if you so desire. AMEN!!

 

You may now rise.  Hashers and Harriettes, please form an aisle of honor for our happy couple.  (pause…I and the AMEN chorus, get at the front of the aisle).  Long and Chiquita, please honor us by proceeding down this aisle. Hashers and Harriettes, do as I do.

Form an honor guard of beer spewers.  As they pass, spew beer (lightly) over them.

______

 

WEDDING CEREMONY # 4

Contributed by Slimie Limie, Kobe HHH, Japan

 

Dearly intoxicated, we are gathered here in the presence of the Pack to bond this hasher and this harriette in unholy mattress moaning.

RoxxOff, do you take this harriette for better or for worse, on the rag and in health, on bad hair days and good, to have and to hash with until the sake runs out?

(Hasher answers) “I do”

Sweet PeeCock, do you take this hasher for better or for worse, in vomit and in shiggy, with his farts and sake-breath, to have and to hash with until he can’t get it up any more?

(Harriette answers) “I do”

Please raise your wine coolers and repeat after me. With this whine, I thee wed.

(Both) “With this whine, I thee wed.”

Let’s cut the crap and jump into bed.

(Both) “Let’s cut the crap and jump into bed.”

By the power invested to me by the State of Drunkenness, I now mispronounce you slave and master.

A note for the bonded! (song) Here’s to the bonded,… etc. etc.

You may now moon the pack.

 

 

WEDDING SONG

Melody – Amazing Grace

Written by Sauer Krotch for the Orlando Hash wedding of Wild Oats and Oatmeal; should be adaptable for others

 

Today we wed to (name) to (name),

We heard them say “I do.”

Give it your best, for the next forty years,

But first drink down your beers.

 

 

WE’RE HERE BECAUSE . . .

Melody – Auld Lang Syne

 

We’re here because we’re here,

Because we’re here,

Because we’re here,

We’re here because we’re here,

Because we’re here,

Because we’re here . . .

 

 

WE’VE GOT VIRGINS

Melody – Frere Jacques

By Mud Fucker and Greatful Head, Bay City HHH

 

We’ve got virgins,

We’ve got virgins,

At our hash,

At our hash,

Gonna get’em drunked up,

Gonna get’em fucked up,

Down the hatch,

Up the ass,

 

So drink it down, down, down . . .

 

 

WHAT A WANK

Melody – William Tell Overture

 

What a wank, what a wank, what a wank, wank, wank,

What a wank, what a wank, what a wank, wank,wank,

What a wank, what a wank, what a wank, wank, wank,

What a wank, what a wank, wank, wank.

 

What a wank, what a wank, what a wank, wank, wank, wank, wank, wank, wank, wank, wank,

What a wank, what a wank, what a wank, wank, wank, wank, wank, wank wank.

What a wank, what a wank, what a wank, wank, wank,

What a wank, what a wank, what a wank, wank, wank,

What a wank, what a wank, what a wank, wank, wank,

What a wank, what a wank, wank, wank . . .

 

 

WHERE WERE YOU LAST WEEK?

Melody – Where Oh Where Were You Last Night (from Hee Haw)

by Preparation H, Ft Eustis HHH

 

Where, Oh Where were you last week?

Why did you make us hash all alone?

 

You Fat Lazy Bastards, You weren’t even here.

So we fucked all the virgins and drank all the Beer.

 

Down, Down, Drink it all Down

Drink it all Down, Drink all of that Beer

 

You Fat Lazy Bastards, You weren’t even here.

So we fucked all the virgins and drank all the Beer.

 

Drink it down, down, down, down . . .

 

 

WHY ARE WE WAITING?

Melody – Come Let Us Adore Him

 

Why are we waiting,

Could be fornicating (masturbating, etc),

Oh, why are we waiting,

So fucking long, etc . . .

 

 

WHY WAS HE BORN SO BEAUTIFUL?

Melody – Itself

 

Why was he born so beautiful?

Why was he born at all?

He’s no fuckin’ use to anyone,

He’s no bloody use at all.

 

They say he’s a joy to his mother,

But he’s a pain in the asshole to me,

 

He’s fresh as a daisy,

He drives me crazy,

 

So drink it down, down, down . . .

 

 

WHY WAS SHE BORN A BITCH?

Melody – 1st verse: Itself

2nd verse: My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean

 

Why was she born so beautiful?

Why was she born a bitch?

She’s no bloody use to anyone,

She’s only got one tit.

 

She ought to be publicly pissed on,

She ought to be publicly shot,

She ought to be tied to a urinal,

And left there to fester and rot.

 

So drink it down, down, down . . .

 

 

YANKEE DOODLE (two versions)

Melody – I’m a Yankee Doodle Dandy

 

Yankee Doodle he’s a dandy,

Yankee Doodle do or die,

A real live asshole from the USA,

Piss on the Fourth of July.

 

Yank my doodle, it’s a dandy,

Yankee Doodle zip your fly,

Yankee Doodle limped to London,

Wanking off his pony,

You are that Yankee Doodle guy.

______

 

Yankee doodle he’s/she’s a dandy,

He’s/She’s a hasher till he/she dies,

A real live asshole from the USA,

Pissed on my most other guys/girls.

 

Yank his/her doodle, it’s a dandy,

Yank his/her doodle, zip his/her fly,

Yankee doodle ran the trail

Wanking off his/her doodle,

You are that yanking doodle guy/girl.

 

YOU ARE OUR ______

Melody – You Are My Sunshine

Contributed by Slimie Limie, Kobe HHH, Japan

 

You are our _______, our only ______,

You make us happy when skies are bleak.

You’ll never know ______, how much we like you,

Please keep coming to Hash ev’ry week.

 

Drink it down, down, down . . .

 

ZICKY-ZACKY

The purpose of the zicky-zacky chant is to point out breaches in circle etiquette – members of the circle surround the offender and repeat chant loudly:

 

Zicky-zacky,  zicky-zacky,

Hoy,  Hoy,  Hoy!

Zicky-zacky,  zicky-zacky,

Hoy,  Hoy,  Hoy!

Zicky-zacky,  zicky-zacky,

Hoy,  Hoy,  Hoy!

 

. . . and so on until offender completes a down-down . . . alternatively, the zicky-zacky chant can be performed whenever someone screws up a verse in a hash song (of course, the offending singer must immediately do a down-down while the pack chants).  There are several substitutes for “zicky-zacky” if you get bored with the basic chant, as in:

 

Shiggy shaggy, shiggy shaggy,

Oi, Oi, Oi!

 

Motorcycle, motorcycle,

Vroom, Vroom, Vroom!

 

Locomotive, locomotive,

Choo, Choo, Choo!

 

Helicopter, helicopter,

Whirl, Whirl, Whirl! (or Whop, Whop, Whop!)

 

Submarine, submarine,

Glug, Glug, Glug!

 

Motorcar, motorcar,

Beep, Beep, Beep!

 

Telephone, telephone,

Ring, Ring, Ring!

 

Penis, penis,

Cum, Cum, Cum!

 

ZULU WARRIOR

Melody – Itself

Hash version by ZiPpy, Pike’s Peak H4

 

Ole, zooma zooma zooma,

Ole, zooma zooma chief,

Drink it down you Zulu warrior,

Drink it down you Zulu chief,

Drink it down you Zulu warrior,

Drink it down you Zulu chief, chief, chief!

______

 

Ole, zooma zooma zooma,

Ole, zooma zooma chief,

Drink it down you poofta warrior,

Drink it down you poofta chief,

Drink it down you poofta warrior,

Drink it down you poofta queef, queef, queef!

——————————————————————————–

HASH ANTHEMS

 

Agana HHH Chant

Aloha HHH Anthem

Angeles City Hashional Anthem

Austin Hash Song

Boatie HHH Hymn

Copenhagen Full Moon Howlers Anthem

Copenhagen HHH Anthem

Emerald Coast Hash House Harriers

Fort Eustis HHH Anthem

Founders’ Blitz

Hashin’ in New Orleans

Hogtown

Hong Kong Prayer

Men of the H, H, 3

Mother Hash

Mount Vernon HHH Road Song

Pikes Peak Hashers

Richmond HHH Song

Shanghai HHH Song

Sluts from Lutz

Song of the Bandar Seri Begawan Hashers

Squannacook River Runners Anthem

Story of the Boston Hashers

Subic Hashional Anthem

There is a Hash in New Orleans

There is a House in Nittany Valley

Tokyo Hash Song

Warriers Had a Meeting

Wet Spot’s Wail

White House HHH Anthem

Wiregrass HHH Down-Down Song

 

 

AGANA (GUAM) HASH HOUSE HARRIER CHANT

Contributed by Babble-On

 

Cocksucker, motherfucker, eat a bag of shit,

Cunt hair, douche bag, bite your mother’s tit.

We’re the Agana Hash, all the others suck,

Agana Hash, Agana Hash, rah, rah, fuck!

 

 

ALOHA HHH ANTHEM

Melody – Choral Stanza, Beethoven’s 9th Symphony

Adapted by Flying Booger from the anthem of the Lyngby HHH, Denmark . . . a good song to get the circle going

 

Come Aloha Hash House Harriers,

Get your asses in high gear,

Whiners, walkers, F-R-B-ers,

Gather ’round these mugs of beer.

 

Let the hashing spirit enter,

Ev’ry wanker here around,

Down-downs right and left and center

As we hashers chug ’em down.

 

 

ANGELES CITY HASHIONAL ANTHEM

Melody – Rocky Mountain High

Composed by Mu-Sick

 

She was born in a grass hut, in a field in Cebu.

Destined to a life of poverty.

But at the age of thirteen, she had a change of heart

And moved to downtown Angeles.

 

CHORUS:

Where the Balibago Mount Arayat High

I’ve seen it raining pesos in the sky.

Sit around Fields Avenue and screw the TDY.

Mt Arayat High, Balibago

Mt Arayat High, Balibago

 

She hopped in a jeepney with a stump-broke carabao

To a place she’d heard about about before

She’s learned to pick up pesos from a bottle of San Miguel

Working overtime giving blowjobs in Astro Park.

 

She heard the pay was better down in Subic Bay.

Especially when the fleet was in.

So, she hopped a victory liner all the way to Olongapo

Where she learned to do the banana-cutter show

 

She’s learned to do the circuit from Kim Hae to Taegu

Keeping Team Spirit troops alive.

She’s a great tent heater, and she blows without kimche breath

All the boys along the DMZ

 

She married a lieutenant and got a visa to the States.

The hope and dream of all the bar girls here.

But after a winter in Minot, she froze her little twat

And caught the freedom bird back to Angeles.

 

 

AUSTIN HASH SONG

Melody – Redneck Mother

(contributed by ZiPpy, Pike’s Peak H4, probably composed by Austin hashers)

 

Start with background of  “ba doom, ba doom, ba doom, boom, boom, boom . . .”

 

I brought a newboot out to meet the gang,

He said he needed a crowd with which to hang.

He ran like a rabbit out on the false trails,

By the time we got to the beer he was draggin’ his tail.

 

Well it’s cross the creek and up the other side,

Through some poison oak, bull nettle by my side.

Well it’s off the road and off into some deep dark woods,

Running up and down hills just to get them goods.

 

Well you just might see a llama along the way,

Or ford a dangerous river, who’s to say.

But for all us who knows, to bring some dry clothes,

Take a short cut through the creek to where the beer flows.

 

Well,

H, is for the hare that just laid the trail,

A, is for the soil we hash on – AUSTIN!

S, that’s for Shiner,

H, is for us hounds,

E, is for everyone wearing,

R, UBBERS!

 

 

COPENHAGEN FULL MOON HOWLERS ANTHEM

Melody – Sejle Opad Aaen (traditional Danish melody)

Composed by Bogey, CFMHHHH

 

We are the full m00n ho-o-o-o-o-ow lers

Sly mid-night prow-lers are we,

We “m00n” the spooks,

Drink wit-ches’ brew,

‘Cause we’re sons of bit-ches just like you,

 

We live by the ca-nine co-o-o-o-o-o-odex

Hear up, we’ll teach it to you:

“If you can’t eat

or screw it, then

Piss on it, Piss on it, once a-gain!”

 

For we are the full m00n ho-o-o-o-o-ow lers

HO-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-WL

 

 

BOATIE HHH HYMN

Melody -Montezuma’s Hall

Contributed by Elephant Man, Katherine HHH

 

On the North shores of Antarctica

Where the yanks have never been

Lies the carcass of a bloody great polar bear

Shagged to death by a Hash House team

 

We are the perverts of society

The likes of us you’ve never seen

We are a pack of loud mouth bastards

We are the Boatie Hash House Team

 

Well we have a reputation

For molesting little boys

For abusing old age pensioners

And stealing kiddies toys

 

We are the perverts of society

The likes of us you’ve never seen

We are a pack of loud mouth bastards

We are the Boatie Hash House Team

 

We don’t climb many mountains

And we don’t cross many streams

We don’t have pretty girlfriends

We just live off our wet dreams.

 

We are the perverts of society

The likes of us you’ve never seen

We are a pack of loud mouth bastards

We are the BOATIE HASH HOUSE TEAM

 

 

COPENHAGEN HHH ANTHEM

Melody – Pomp & Circumstance

Composed by Sodbuster

 

Come on, Viking Wankers,

Lift your beers and shout

We are Copenhashers

What we’ve got, we flaunt.

Close the narrow circle, gather round the beer.

Hashing, wanking drinking,

That is why we’re here,

Hashing, wanking, drinking

That is why we’re here.

 

 

EMERALD COAST HASH HOUSE HARRIERS

Melody – Bad, Bad Leroy Brown

Composed by Flamin’ Asshole, ECHHH; contributed by M.I.A.

 

In the panhandle of Florida, there’s a group that loves to hash.

They’re from the Emerald Coast, as their T-shirts boast and they can sure throw a hell of a bash.

They got a hundred or two hash house harriers, and they like to have a lot of fun.

They eat their red beans and rice, while drinking beer as cold as ice and they have even been known to run.

 

CHORUS:

And they’re the Emerald Coast Hash House Harriers,

They’ve been known to run through any barriers,

‘Cause they’re as crazy as the day is long,

And known to show their ass or sing a song.

 

It’s hares away and off they’re running, dropping flour from a plastic sack.

They mark the intersections, with hash in all directions so they can split and bring together the pack.

The FRBs are shouting “On On!” as the pack asks the question “Are You?”

They claim they’re on the right trail, and the check is in the mail, because a virgin missed a Check Back Two.

 

They’re getting closer to the On Home, a P-Check brings the pack in tight.

Just a little more shiggy, but they’re squealing like a piggy ’cause the Beer Near is in sight!

After running for an hour, through the nastiest parts around,

The hares all wail, that they have laid the perfect trail, but their reward will be a double Down Down.

 

And the night turns into morning, they have acted like a bunch of fools.

They took short-cuts, and showed their tits and butts, but that’s okay because there are NO RULES!

 

 

FORT EUSTIS HHH ANTHEM

Melody – ???

 

We’re the Fort Eustis hashers

We’re glad to be here

We’ll shortcut your trails

And drink all your beer!

We’ll fuck all your women

And puke in your car

We’re the Fort Eustis hashers

The best hash by far!

 

 

FOUNDERS’ BLITZ

Melody – Puttin’ on the Ritz

By Great Salt Lick, Long Beach HHH

 

If you’re blue and you don’t know where to go to

Why don’t you do a Founder’s Blitz

Puttin’ on the Ritz

 

Dressed up like a twenty dollar hasher

Trying hard to be a trashy flasher

Fashion Smasher

 

If you’d like to see some humongous tits

Why don’t you go where AREOLA sitz

Puttin’ on the Ritz

 

Drinking at the Long Beach Airport Prop Room

With the likes of HASH BUM, RAT’S ASS and BROOM

Fruit of the Loom

 

If you’d like to see how AT&T keeps a man

Why don’t yo feel how hard she hitz

Puttin’ on the Ritz

 

Hash Balls handed out like penny candy

QPC is feeling pretty randy

(Handy dandy)

 

If you’d like to see how we get new boots

Why don’t you see how quick DICK quitz

Puttin’ on the Ritz

 

CRABS and PIC are mounting on the front bar

One more Kodak moment has gone too far

Hardee Har Har

 

If you’re bored and you would like to SNEEK-A-PEEK

Why don’t you view our glitzy clitz

Puttin’ on the Ritz

 

Food and drink consumed by all involved here

DANCES surely did not need that last beer

Human Pinball

 

If you’re drunk and starting to feel sick

No doubt the night will be the pitz

Puttin’ on the Ritz

 

HI SPEED’s van was full of Taco Bellers

POKEY, NIPPLE, SALT and all the fellers

Steller yellers

 

If you go and eat all that crap you’ll find

Your toilet full of wicked shitz

Puttin’ on the Ritz

 

Party all night long in Room 446

’twas the home of EZ, SADDLE, and 3DICKS

Hell of a mix

 

If you go to that room you will witness

Drunks with no beer to drink throwing fitz

Puttin’ on the Ritz

 

One more year going down in a blaze of glory

SMACK may just appear on that show “Maury”

Gory story

 

If you’re blue and you don’t know where to go to

Why don’t you do a Founder’s Blitz

Puttin’ on the Ritz

Puttin’ on the Ritz

Puttin’ on the Ritz

 

 

HASHIN’ IN NEW ORLEANS

Melody – Walkin’ to New Orleans

By Tree Humper, Richmond HHH, Virginia

 

I’m hashin in New Orleans.

I’m hashin in New Orleans.

I’m trailin through the shiggy.

Cold and wet but it’s no biggie.

I’m hashin in New Orleans.

I’ve got beers in my hand.

Now ain’t that grand.

New Orleans is my hash.

Now isn’t that a bash.

I’m hashin in New Orleans.

Nothing could be swanker.

Than running with those wankers.

They’ll show you a great time.

When you get there you’ll be fine.

You’ll be hashin in New Orleans.

 

 

HOGTOWN

Melody – Downtown

By Rambo, cHARLOTtesville HHH

 

When it’s November you should simply remember, you can always go, HOGTOWN

Kazoo and Shampoo, Lengthy, Saggy and crew, intend to steal from you, HOGTOWN

When we reach the on-in with our tacky dress and ear-rings

Molson Triple-X around the table we are sharing, Give us more booze

 

The Blue Jays they sucked this year, so let’s forget all our troubles, forget

all our fears and go

HOGTOWN! Follow the chevrons (1) to HOGTOWN!

Freeze off your titties in HOGTOWN! Shrivel your scrotum at HOGTOWN.

HOGTOWN is my kind of town!

 

“Don’t leave the camp”, oh, that’s what ZiPpY will rant, when he decides to go,

HOGTOWN

Down, downs are boring, when the whole group is snoring, start the naked dance!

HOGTOWN

We don’t get our money’s worth with lousy kay-nook (2) moola

Hashing in Toronto sucks, don’t let this weekend fool ‘ya, Give us more booze

 

The band-plays-with-asses-bare, they have forgotten their troubles, forgotten

their cares to play

HOGTOWN!  Follow the chevrons  to HOGTOWN!

Freeze off your titties in HOGTOWN! Shrivel your scrotum at HOGTOWN.

HOGTOWN is my kind of town!

 

(1) “Chevrons” are spacing markers in the lanes on the freways leading into Toronto.

(2) Canadians are frequently referred to as canucks, pronounced “kay-nooks.”

 

 

HONG KONG PRAYER

Contributed by Harish Pillay, Singapore HHH

 

Our Brother,

Who art in Bejing,

Xiao Ping be thy name,

United Kingdom gone,

Thy will be done

In Hong Kong

As it is in China.

Give us this day,

Our daily bet,

and forgive us,

Our speculations.

As we forgive those

Who speculate against us.

Lead us not into Communism,

But deliver us,

From Gwailos.

For this is,

The Sovereignty,

The Power of Authority,

Forever and ever,

Chow mein.

 

 

MEN OF THE H, H, 3

Melody – ???

 

Eyes right, foreskins tight,

Cockstands to the front,

We’re the men of the H, H, 3.

We’re in search of fun,

We’re the heroes of the night,

We’d rather fuck than fight,

We’re the men of the H, H, 3.

 

CHORUS:

Rolling along, rolling along,

By the light of the silvery moon.

Happy is the Hash,

With my finger up her snatch,

By the light of the silvery moon.

 

Oh, (repeat from beginning)

 

 

MOTHER HASH

Melody – Itself

(from Kuala Lumpur HHH)

 

If you’re adventure hungry,

And your yuppie life is sad,

And you’ve a yen to be a jungly,

And leave everything you have,

 

CHORUS:

You wanna run away,

Sing a song, you wanna get smashed!

And call it a day, come on along,

And join the Mother Hash.

 

Fifty years we’ve been runnin’,

Jungle, shiggy, and swamp,

Fifty more years we’ll be runnin’,

Happy birthday, On-On-On!

 

Anybody can join us,

Black, brown, yellow, or blue,

And nobody need feel nervous,

We even take white folks too!

 

 

MOUNT VERNON HHH ROAD SONG

Melody – Barney Theme, or This Old Man

Contributed by Roto Router, MV HHH

 

Orlando (name of visited hash),

We hashed there,

Mount Vernon Hash House Harriers (visiting hash name)!

We fucked all the women,

Buggered all the men,

Drank all the beer,

And we’ll do it all again!

 

 

PIKES PEAK HASHERS

Melody – Son of a Gambolier

Adapted from “The Pioneers” by ZiPpy, Pike’s Peak H4

 

Us Pikes Peak hashers are dirty flashers,

We piss through leather britches,

We wipe our ass with broken glass,

Us horny sons of bitches.

 

When cunt is rare, we fuck a bear,

We knife him if he snitches,

We knock our cocks against the rocks,

Us horny sons of bitches.

 

We take our ass upon the grass,

In bushes or in ditches,

Our two-pound dinks are full of kinks,

Us horny sons of bitches.

 

Without remorse, we fuck a horse,

And beat him if he twitches,

Our two-foot pricks are full of nicks,

Us horny sons of bitches.

 

To make a mule stand for the tool,

We beat him with hickory switches,

We use our pricks for walking sticks,

Us horny sons of bitches.

 

Great joy we reap from cornholing sheep,

In barns, or bogs, or ditches,

Nor give a damn if it be a ram,

Us horny sons of bitches.

 

We walk around, prick to the ground,

And kick it if it itches,

And if it throbs, we scratch it with cobs,

Us horny sons of bitches.

 

We masturbate from morn to late,

Till our bloody foreskin twitches,

Next morning at ten we begin again,

Us horny sons of bitches.

 

At Pikes Peak, we got no fears,

We do not stop at trifles,

We hang our balls on the walls,

And shoot at them with rifles.

 

We scrounge a cow and care not how,

The shit sticks to our britches,

And fetch a bull and fill him full,

Us horny sons of bitches.

 

We fuck our wives with butcher knives,

And keep their cunts in stitches,

But VD makes it hurt to pee,

Us horny sons of bitches.

 

 

RICHMOND HHH SONG

Melody – Dixie

Contributed by Tree Humper, Richmond HHH, Virginia

 

I wish I was with the Hash in Richmond.

Hashes there are really bitchin.

Hash away, hash away, hash away, Richmond hash.

 

In the Richmond hash where I was named.

Running shiggy trails, drunk and lamed.

Hash away, hash away, hash away Richmond Hash.

 

Oh I wish I was in Richmond.

Away away.

In Richmond land I’ll take my stand,

And run true trail in Richmond.

 

Away, away, away down South in Richmond.

Away, away, away down South in Richmond.

 

 

SHANGHAI HHH SONG

Melody – Battle Hymn of the Republic

By Tree Humper, Richmond HHH, Virginia

 

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the running of the Hash.

We are Hashers, we’re from Shanghai and the trails there are a bash.

We will run and drink and fall down till we run out of our cash.

The Hashers are on trail.

On, on, Shanghai Hashers.

On, on, Shanghai Hashers.

On, on, Shanghai Hashers.

Shanghai’s on true trail.

 

 

SLUTS FROM LUTZ

A Poem of Unestimable Love, Sincerity, and Devotion

By StumpSlayer, Carolina Trash

 

Oh, Sluts from Lutz, I hate your guts,

You’ve brought me to my knees.

You’re everything a man would want,

You’re beauty, poise, and sleeze.

 

Oh, Sluts from Lutz, you drive me nuts,

Your love may make me dead.

I’m just a moth drawn to the flame,

KrotchKiten, SealedLips, CheeseSpread!

 

Oh, Sluts from Lutz, you give me coconuts,

That’s far worse than blueballs,

I’d laundry suck your underwear,

And chew your UnderAlls!

 

Oh, Sluts from Lutz, it may draw yucks,

You’re my refuge from my strife,

Please put your legs around my neck,

Be my new leash on life!

 

Oh, Sluts from Lutz, this poem sucks,

But not as well as you.

Grind your highheels into my chest,

While I admire the view !

 

Oh, Sluts from Lutz, had I more bucks,

And could control the weather,

I’d rearrange the alphabet,

And put U and I together !

 

 

SONG OF THE BANDAR SERI BEGAWAN HASHERS (BRUNEI)

Melody – All Things Bright and Beautiful

Contributed by Teats de Swamp

 

All things bright and beautiful

All creatures great and small

All things wise and wonderful

We like to eat them all

 

Each little beast that staggers

Each little bird that sings

We eat their tiny bodies

We eat their little wings

 

Each little frog we fondle

We’d love to chew and crunch

Each little chick we cuddle

We’d rather have for lunch

 

All things bright and beautiful

All creatures great and small

All things wise and wonderful

We like to eat them all

 

 

SQUANNACOOK RIVER RUNNERS ANTHEM

Chant

Contributed by Brett Hall

 

Squannacook once, Squannacook twice

Holy jumpin’ Jesus Christ

Rim-ram, God-damn,

Son of a bitch, shit!

 

 

THE STORY OF THE BOSTON HASHERS

Melody – Charlie on the MTA (Will He Ever Return?)

Contributed by Rob Basford, Boston HHH

 

Oh . . . let me tell you a story about the Boston Hashers

They’ve been here for twenty-four years,

Each week they run on flour through shiggy for an hour

In an effort to find a few beers!

 

CHORUS:

But do we ever complain, no we never complain,

From whining we refrain (‘cept for “Rectal”)

We may run forever in the streets of Boston

For the beer and shiggy terain.

 

Now “Watergate” she was, once the greatest grand-mattress,

’cause she bitches, she moans, and she . . . shits,

She’ll slam down on the phone because she has PMS syndrome,

But we love her for her really big . . . HEART!

 

Now “Sweet Molasses” has the cutest of asses,

A nicer one you’ll ne-ver find,

When her buttocks wiggle . . . it makes my old boy giggle

That’s why I like to come from behind!

 

Well all . . . night . . . long . . . “Shine On” waits at the station

Crying “what will be-come of me?”

How . . . can . . . I . . . afford to see my boyfriend in Roxbury

Or my cousins way out in . . . Chel-sea!

 

Now every Boston virgin will hear us all uh urgin’

To tell us . . . with who you came,

Then you’ll hear “Rectal” holler, “Give me your ten dollars!”

It’s no wonder how he got his name!

 

While “Fat One’s” a singin’ and we’re all here a drinkin’

I’ve been thinking it’s been a great day.

Then a voice . . . cries out in a very load shout,

“I’m ‘Rectal’ and you all must pay!”

 

Now with the circle hash . . . re-spect is what we expect

On private . . . parties we frown,

So if you can’t shut up then we’ll fill up your cu-up

And make you drink it . . . DOWN! DOWN! DOWN!

 

When the Hare is “Friar Fuck”, we’re . . . all shit out of lu-uck

He doesn’t know his flora at all,

So best you be ready to cut with a machete,

Through Poison Ivy ten feet tall!

 

Well then there’s “Ski Bobbit” who sets hashes like a hobbit,

They’re difficult but they . . . are . . . fun,

Three four hours gone . . . SEO makes the On-On shouting

“Who fucking set this run?!”

 

Well “Piece of Tail” waits, at the Scollay Square station,

Every day at quarter past two,

And through the open window hands . . . “White Flash” a down-down

As the train goes rumbling through!

 

Now Boston’s got a thriller who’d be a lady killer,

Except he’s hard on female e-gos,

‘Cause when we grab his member, he DOESN’T REMEMBER!

It’s Narcoleptic Romeo . . .

 

When French Tickler wants to pass, with great legs and ass

Male hashers follow with glee

But ‘though she’s fun and silly, you best tuck in your willy

’cause she’s got a man in Par-eee

 

Now there ain’t no hasher’s greater than our own “Master Waiter”

It’s impossible to get . . . him . . . lost,

Ever since that year when he ran right past the beer,

‘Found a chesty muddy river to cross!

 

And this is the story of a hasher named “Junky”,

On a tragic and fateful day,

He put ten beers in pocket, kissed his wife and girlfrie-end,

And moved to Califor-nee-i-a!

 

Well “Meat Pie” . . . she . . . waits, at the Scolly Square station,

Every day at quarter past two,

And through the open window hands . . . “No Hands” a few brew-ews

As the train goes rumbling through!

 

 

SUBIC HASHIONAL ANTHEM

Melody – Makin’ Whoopee

Composed by Dennis “Mu-Sick” Gill, Ft Walton Beach HHH, Florida

 

There was a hasher, of forty-five,

Not much to look at, but he’s alive,

He’s a disaster, he’s our grand master,

When hashin’, runnin’, drinkin’, oo-oo-oh.

 

There was a sailor, who fell in love,

He met the girl, he was dreamin’ of,

But he wouldn’t marry’er, she’s a clap carrier,

So now he’s hashin’, runnin’, drinkin’, oo-oo-oh.

 

There was an ensign, who liked to smile,

When thinkin’ of down-downs, durin’ her last mile,

She chugs beer better, in Barrio Barretta,

When she’s hashin’, runnin’, drinkin’, oo-oo-oh.

 

There was a hasher, who was in distress,

Till he biblically knew our, grand mistress,

He’s her spiritual advisor, she’s his appetizer,

When hashin’, runnin’, drinkin’, oo-oo-oh.

 

 

THERE IS A HASH IN NEW ORLEANS

Melody – The House of the Rising Sun

Composed by Flamin’ Asshole, Emerald Coast HHH; contributed by M.I.A.

 

There is a hash in New Orleans,

They throw a great party each year,

With strays and gays in wild parades,

And Po’ Boys with Dixie beer.

 

Grand Masters, tell your hashers,

Take your whistles and go,

‘Cause Cajuns there, are rednecks and queers,

They take you on blow for blow.

 

The only thing a hasher needs,

Is a butt plug and a mug,

One to keep queers out of their rears,

The other so they can chug.

 

The virgins show up early,

They drink, pass out, and are through,

The experienced hashers cum later,

And cover the virgins in goo.

 

As hashers get up in the morning,

Most of them wish they were dead,

There’s a little man with a hammer,

Banging inside of their heads.

 

Now the moral of our story,

Mardi Gras is a blast,

From the Emerald Coast, we propose a toast,

Merci, with our tits and ass.

 

 

THERE IS A HOUSE IN NITTANY VALLEY

Melody – House of the Rising Sun

 

There is a house in Nittany Valley,

They call the Harriers,

And it’s been the salvation of many a poor boy,

And God, I know, I’m there.

 

My Mother was Inferior,

An Ann Arbor harriette,

My father was the Reverend Poon Tang,

A Chemical Waste hasher yet.

 

Now the only thing a hasher needs,

Is a shag bag and a beer,

The only time that he is satisfied,

Is when the beer is near.

 

Oh Mother, tell your children,

To do what I did dare,

To live their lives in sin and ecstasy,

As a Hash House Harrier.

 

With one foot on the beer check,

The other foot on the trail,

I’m going back to the apres,

To chase after bimbo tail.

 

Well, there is a house in Nittany Valley,

They call the Harriers,

And it’s been the salvation of many a poor boy,

And God, I know, I’m there.

 

 

TOKYO HASH SONG

Melody – The Irish Rover

 

I flew into Tokyo, an expat so neat,

Some boozy old hashers I happened to meet,

I asked to go hashing, they answered me “Nay,

For wimps such as you we can find any day.”

 

CHORUS:

And it’s no nay never, no nay no never no more,

Shall I play the wild hasher, no never no more.

 

I took out my checkbook all shiny and bright,

The hash cash’s eyes they lit up with delight,

He said, “Gladly we’ll welcome you as one of the rank,

As soon as your check has been cleared by the bank.”

 

They sold me a T-shirt at exhorbitant price,

Then we went hashing, ’twas ever so nice,

At the last checkpoint we lost three without trace,

And back at the On In we all got shit faced.

 

I’ve hashed the world over in places far and near,

I fondled the women and drank all the beer,

And now I’m returning with tales for to tell,

Of checkbacks unending and shortcuts through hell.

 

Now all I have left is a beer-stained T-shirt,

And my Nikes are covered in shiggy and dirt,

My wife she has left me because of the pong,

And this is the end of my terrible song.

 

 

WARRIERS HAD A MEETING

Melody – God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

By Dances With Dogs, Oregon HHH

Note: “Warriers” is spelled that way on purpose – F.B.

 

The Warriers had a meeting

They came from near and far

Some came by jet airliner

Some came from Manly’s bar

 

And when they were assembled

The Dog the Bitch and Man

Out popped our Cornballer

From the fucking can

 

One Warrier still was missing

We had tried to shake him loose

But Scrotum came upon us

Swilling in the Goose

 

There we Warriers gamboled

Without a worry or care

When a crazed and drunken bimbo yelled

“Hey, we’re supposed to hare!”

 

So to the next bar we rambled

To wile away an hour

When another skanky bimbo yelled

“We forgot the fucking flour!”

 

As we staggered back to the box

With our legs between our tail

We had spent eight hours in many a bar

But not a second scouting trail

 

There Lips did loan us a sacred vessel

In which we shall not shit

As long as Battered Woman

And Killer stay away from it

 

But to those Warrier bimbos

Who we thought we could not top

Throughout the chef’s hat dance

Their laughter would not stop

 

So then we all decided

With ice shoved up our ass

Monster not Baller is going to come

To our next fucking Warrier hash

 

Of course we do realize

That for our next Warrier trail

If Monster’s coming with us

Well be setting his fucking bail

 

But this tale cannot yet end

Without thanks to the Oregon Hash

And kidnap victim number three

Much honor to deep gash

 

 

WET SPOT’S WAIL

Melody – Charlie on the MTA (Will He Ever Return?)

By Mouthful, Oregon HHH

 

Let me tell you the story of a Hasher named Wetspots on a tragic and fateful day.

She put flour in her pocket, kissed her best man Stinky and proceeded to lay the trail.

 

Oh . . .

The . . .

Trail it was abysmal and the checks they were pathetic and the logic just didn’t jibe.

She left beer in Hobo Heaven, thought it actually would stay there and continued to keep on smilin’.

 

Well the hounds said “It’s outrageous,” and the co-Hare was adamant, that ol’ Wetspots was our blond friend.

But dear Wetspots didn’t get it. Kept on telling us we loved it. Was determined to hash without end.

 

Oh will she ever return, no she’ll never return. She is banned from laying trail.

She may run with us tomorrow, but her Hare we will not follow. She is banned from laying trail.

 

She decided she would greet us at the tavern she would meet us.  She was greeted with so much rage.

And after produce row she led us, from the city then she sped us.  Now her half-mind was unengaged.

 

Oh will she ever return, no she’ll never return. She is banned from laying trail.

She may run with us tomorrow, but her Hare we will not follow. She is banned from laying trail.

 

After Hal’s the Hounds took action, ’twas a desperate reaction, and they followed the Hares outside.

In four blocks they saw the reason, why the trail it wasn’t pleasin’ as the Hares prepared to drive.

 

Oh will she ever return, no she’ll never return. She is banned from laying trail.

She may run with us tomorrow, but her Hare we will not follow. She is banned from laying trail.

 

Then our most exalted Tyrant stuck his head inside her window and proceeded to grab her keys.

There she sat in all that traffic, and the hounds they were a laughing, ’til her shorts came off over her knees.

 

Oh will she ever return, no she’ll never return. She is banned from laying trail.

She may run with us tomorrow, but her Hare we will not follow. She is banned from laying trail.

 

At . . .

Old . . .

Town . . .

Pizza we assembled for a session that resembled something of a lynch partee.

Each had found his own way back, but we were ne’er again on track for no flour did we see.

 

It was a Horrid Hash disaster, that will live for ever after in the annals of infamy . . .

As the day when our dear Wetspots grabbed her final sack of flour and she sealed her destiny.

 

Oh will she ever return, no she’ll never return. She is banned from laying trail.

She may run with us tomorrow, but her Hare we will not follow. She is banned from laying trail.

 

 

WHITE HOUSE HHH ANTHEM

Melody – Unknown

Contributed by SmegmaBalls, White House HHH

 

We’re the White House Hashers

Scum of the earth,

Scourge of crea-a-tion,

God-forsaken-fornicating-son-of-a-bitches,

 

Found in every whore house,

Drink, suck, and scre-e-ew,

We’re the White House Hash, and we say, fuck, YOU!

 

 

WIREGRASS HHH DOWN-DOWN SONG

Melody – same as for “Marriage a la Mode”

Composed by Pole Pounder, contributed by Horny Toad

 

CHORUS:

Drink a little bit, run a little bit,

Follow the hash, follow the hash, follow the hash.

Drink a little bit, run a little bit, follow the hash,

Join in our happy song.

 

Mighty fine hares are they, are they,

Mighty fine hares are they.

They mark the true trail with bottles of ale,

And mark false ones with three lines of pee.

 

Mighty fine hashers are they, are they,

Mighty fine hashers are they.

They can’t run, they can’t sing, but they’re good for one thing,

They have the keys to the old brewery.

 

Mighty fine virgins are they, are they,

Mighty fine virgins are they.

They’re tired and they’re thirsty and their clothes are all dirty,

But there’s no place that they’d rather be.

 

A front-running bastard is __________, is __________,

A front-running bastard is (s)he.

(S)he thinks it’s a race till (s)he falls flat on her/his face,

And skins up her/his cute little knees.

 

A short-cutting bastard is __________, is __________,

A short-utting bastard is (s)he.

(S)he ran off the true trail and started to wail,

“Help, I’m up to my neck in shiggy!”

 

 

——————————————————————————–

 

 

SONGS ABOUT HASHING & HASHERS

 

 

Addicted to the Hash Net

A Few of My Favorite Things

Ancient Hash Song

Bagpipe Song

Bengali One So Long

Bike Week

Bimbo

Can’t Hash Today

Creak Goes the Muscle Oh

Daylight Come

Deep in the Heart of Texas

Drunken Hasher

Europe

Final Down-Down

Give a Little Whistle

Gunga’s Song

Handsome Hasher

Hare!

Harriette the Tattooed Hasher

Harriettes, They Play One

Has Anybody Seen R J

Hasher is Smarter

Hasher Men (and Women)

Hasher’s Lament

Hashin’

Hashin’ USA

Headed Out to Orlando

I Am a Hasher, How ‘Bout You?

I Love to Have a Beer With ________

If I Were King of the Hash House

I’ve Got the Clap Again

I’ve Only Half a Brain

Jungle Smell

Keep on Hashing

Last Hash Run

Like a Geezer Who Has Sinned

Loneliest Hare

Mooning in the Sun

Morgan’s Pies

Mount Bonnell

My Big Banana (two versions)

Ode to a Hasher

Ode to Commode for the Flounder

Once a Bloody Hashman

Only Real Men Run the Southside

Our GM

Out of Towner

Over the River and Through the Woods

People in Pink Tutus

Rap it Up

She Ain’t Gonna Fuck No More

Short Cutter

Short Cutter’s Rhapsody

Sixteen Miles

Song to Cuming Mutha

Spiders in My Hair

Suckanna

Super Hasher

Swilligan’s Island

Thank God I’m a Hashing Girl

The Beer That I Drink at the Hash

Three Visiting Hashers

Tweet-Whistle

Twelve Days of Interhash

Twinkie, Twinkie, Little Hasher

Two Hashers (Harriettes)

Uneasy Hasher

Wanky’s Beers

We Go Hashing

Were You Lonesome Tonight?

Whining Poem

Wild Hasher

Yellow is the Color

Yesterday

You ain’t Nothin’ But a Hasher

You are My Hashit

Your Hand was Made to Stroke My Gland

ZiPpy the Red-Nosed Hasher

 

 

ADDICTED TO THE HASH NET

Melody – Addicted to Love

By Christian Rowe

 

I really laughed at those jokes you know,

When first posted six months ago.

And you know we all take offense

At daily postings for those hash events.

They’re all guilty of net abuse

(Net abuse)

Just like that fucker with the Nassau cruise.

(Nassau cruise)

 

And I’m addicted to the hash net

A full mailbox really makes me wet

Yeah, I’m addicted to the hash net

Twelve o’ clock, ain’t got no work done yet.

I should unsubscribe.

(Get back to work, don’t be a jerk, get back to work Babe Thruster)

 

All these hash events I can’t attend,

It’s road reports on which I depend.

Like from CIS and his rum-soaked mind,

He’s hounding every hash that he can find.

Is he a bigger voyeur than me?

(Bigger than me)

Always searchin’ for hash nudity.

(Hash nudity)

 

This online time’s puttin’ me in debt

Yeah, I’m addicted to the hash net.

 

 

A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS

Melody – These Are a Few of My Favorite Things

 

Short cuts that leave all the front bastards trailing,

Misleading directions leaving short cutters wailing,

Slippery slopes where hounds flounder in shit,

These are some things that appeal to my wit.

 

CHORUS:

When the pox stings, and my balls ache,

And my cock is sore,

I cheer myself up with my favorite things,

And revive the old cock once more.

 

Quims soft and puckered and minge short and curly,

Tight little cunts fringed with spunk white and pearly,

Red painted nipples, an ice cube blow job,

These are the things that will make my cock throb.

 

Limbs brown and supple, with buttocks gyrating,

Positions amazing, damp cunt lips pulsating,

Cheerful young bodies all eager to screw,

Of my favorite things these are only a few.

 

The rugby mob buggers all bloated with beer,

The sight of them’s foul, it’s no wonder, they’re queer,

The dear old mismanagement, oh, what a farce,

These are some of the things you can stick up your arse.

 

A run that was set by those mad hares the Dutch,

A ride in old trucks that you all loved so much,

Some piss that was different with a beer glass thrown in,

Surely a fucking good hash, no hash sin.

 

 

ANCIENT HASH SONG

Melody – Tidings of Comfort and Joy

 

A hasher is a manly chap,

He’s full of vim and vigor.

And maidens gather round in droves,

To see his manly figure.

Of flashing thighs and knobby knees,

He makes a splendid sight.

And all the girls do seek of him,

To spend with them the night.

At this ancient sport he does excel,

None is better in the land.

‘Tis only on a Monday night,

He needs a bit of a hand.

But Tuesday sees him big and bold,

If a little red of eye.

He tells himself he’s not so old,

And has another try.

As lovers go he is the best,

The girls cannot go wrong.

Where others limp and sweat and pant,

The hasher cries, “On On!”

Now you may think this splendid brute,

Is more animal than man.

But concealed inside his noble head,

Is more than an empty beer can.

Of intellect he is most high,

Long words come naturally.

In more than a dozen languages,

He cries, “Jeez, I need to pee!”

 

On hashing nights great minds confer,

To put the world to right.

Engineers and scientists,

Politicians from left and right.

It really is a treasure trove,

Of wit and repartee.

Foul language is never heard,

Just the occasional “Cooee!”

This lofty band,

This group most high,

Gentlemen, one and all.

If only the world was made of such,

Then life would be a ball.

In this modern world we find,

Such violence and sin,

Isn’t it a comfort then,

To find this band of men.

Whose only care is a maiden’s prayer,

And to keep her safe from harm.

Oh, fret not, pretty maiden,

A hasher will keep you warm.

Not only warm but fed and clothed,

With oils he’ll anoint your body,

And all he wants in return,

Is the occasional bit of nookie!

 

And when a hasher’s run is o’er,

To the Golden Gate he goes.

St Peter studies the Hash Cash book,

To see what he might owe.

“Thee’s fully paid oop, nae problem there,

And what’s this I see here?

Thee likes a bit o’ hot nookie,

After a few cold beers.

Thee’s just the sort we needs oop here,

So thee may move along,

Vestal Virgins is on the left.”

And the hasher cries, “On On!”

 

 

BAGPIPE SONG

Melody – Scotland the Brave

Contributed by White Shoes, San Francisco HHH

 

Here’s to the lassie with the black hair on her assie,

Who was liftin’ up her kiltie at the San Francisco Hash (substitute hash name).

 

CHORUS (hold chair upside down to simulate bagpipes; make droning sound and tap throat to form notes):

Na na na na na na na,

Na na na na na na na,

Na na na na na na na,

Na na na na . . .

 

Then there was the jockey with his upstandin’ cocky,

Who was ridin’ on the lassie with the black hair on her assie,

Who was liftin’ up her kiltie at the San Francisco Hash.

 

Then there was the cranky who was wankin’ in his hankie,

At the thought o’ the jockey with the upstandin’ cocky,

Who was ridin’ on the lassie with the black hair on her assie,

Who was liftin’ up her kiltie at the San Francisco Hash.

 

Then there was the queerie who was leerin’ through his beerie,

At the sight o’ the cranky who was wankin’ in his hankie,

At the thought o’ the jockey with the upstandin’ cocky,

Who was ridin’ on the lassie with the black hair on her assie,

Who was liftin’ up her kiltie at the San Francisco Hash.

 

Then there was the harlot makin’ money in the car lot,

To support the a’ queerie who was leerin’ through his beerie,

At the sight o’ the cranky who was wankin’ in his hankie,

At the thought o’ the jockey with the upstandin’ cocky,

Who was ridin’ on the lassie with the black hair on her assie,

Who was liftin’ up her kiltie at the San Francisco Hash.

 

Then there was the HASHER who was posin’ as a flasher,

Hustlin’ johnnies from the harlot makin’ money in the car lot,

To support the a’ queerie who was leerin’ through his beerie,

At the sight o’ the cranky who was wankin’ in his hankie,

At the thought o’ the jockey with the upstandin’ cocky,

Who was ridin’ on the lassie with the black hair on her assie,

Who was liftin’ up her kiltie at the San Francisco Hash.

 

Then there was the wenchy doin’ down-down on a benchie,

For the pleasure o’ the HASHER who was posin’ as a flasher,

Hustlin’ johnnies from the harlot makin’ money in the car lot,

To support the a’queerie who was leerin’ through his beerie,

At the sight o’ the cranky who was wankin’ in his hankie,

At the thought o’ the jockey with the upstandin’ cocky,

Who was ridin’ on the lassie with the black hair on her assie,

Who was liftin’ up her kiltie at the San Francisco Hash.

 

Now the moral o’ this ditty is when in San Francisco City,

And you’re with your favorite girlie chasin’ hairs all short and curly,

Just remember to take her hashin’ and to give her a good bashin’,

And keep her away from the wenchy doing down-down on the benchie,

For the pleasure o’ the HASHER who was posin’ as a flasher,

Hustlin’ johnnies from the harlot makin’ money in the car lot,

To support the a’ queerie who was leerin’ through his beerie,

At the sight o’ the cranky who was wankin’ in his hankie,

At the thought o’ the jockey with the upstandin’ cocky,

Who was ridin’ on the lassie with the black hair on her assie,

Who was liftin’ up her kiltie at the San Francisco Hash.

 

 

BENGALI ONE SO LONG

Melody – ???

 

Bengali one so long,

Melayu one potong,

Indian one so dark and strong,

Orang Puteh just like sotong.

 

All Hash Mens’ hard and strong,

They can go for ten furlong,

Darling, please don’t ask for tolong,

And we will carry on and on.

 

There is a lady in sarong,

She prefers it done on a palong,

To her surprise we can stand so long,

Because one fails the rest will carry on.

 

 

BIKE WEEK

Melody – ???

By Shuttle Cock, Houston HHH

 

Salmon swimming up a stream

Bikers having Harley dreams

Co-eds rubbing on sun creams

Time for Bike Week fun it seems

 

For once Jammies is gone

And toes will be spit free

But now one has to watch Mullet

If you don’t want a shoe full of pee

 

Unending beer once again

A 72-hour pub crawl

Random acts of debauchery

And hounds passed out in halls

 

Late night eating with harriettes

And also maybe some food

The constant rumble of engines

And “Enforcers” with attitude

 

The ridiculous “no public drinking”

Though chug contests abound

Winning every last one of them

By entering a ringer hound

 

Bike Week

Time to Drink

Bike Week

Time to Drink

Bike Week . . .

 

 

BIMBO

Melody – B-I-N-G-O

Contributed by Catwoman and Penis Head

 

There was a girl who hashed with us

and BIMBO was her name oh

B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O

And BIMBO was her name oh

 

This girl she had enormous tits

Three-eight-double-D- oh

B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O

And BIMBO was her name oh

 

And on these tits she did depend

To have her way with men oh

B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O

And BIMBO was her name oh

 

The guys would follow her around

To try to suck her toes oh

B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O

And BIMBO was her name oh

 

She always shopped at Frederick’s

For lacy bras and things oh

B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O

And BIMBO was her name oh

 

The other girls all hated her

Because she was a BIMBO

B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O

And BIMBO was her name oh

 

 

CAN’T HASH TODAY

Melody – Scotsman’s Kilt?

Adapted from a Clancy Brothers tune by unknown hashers

 

Dear Hash I sing this song for to tell you of my plight,

At the time of writing this, I am not a pretty sight,

Me body is all black and blue; me face a deathly gray,

And I hope you’ll understand why I can’t hash with you today.

 

I was workin’ on the fourteenth floor, some bricks I had to clear,

And throwin’ ’em down from such a height was not a good idea.

The foreman wasn’t very pleased, he bein’ an awful sod,

He said I’d have to take them down the ladder in me hod.

 

Now shiftin’ all them bricks by hand seemed so awful slow,

So I hoisted up a barrel and secured a rope below.

But in me haste to do the job, I was too blind to see,

That a barrel full of buildin’ bricks was heavier than me.

 

Now when I untied the rope, the barrel it fell like lead,

And clingin’ tightly to the rope I started up instead.

I shot up like a rocket, and to my dismay I found,

That halfways up, I met the bloody barrel comin’ down.

 

Now the barrel broke me shoulder as to the ground it sped,

And when I reached the top I struck the pulley with me head.

I still clung on though numbed and shocked from this almighty blow,

And the barrel spilled out half the bricks fourteen floors below.

 

Now when the bricks had fallen from the barrel to the floor,

I then outweighed the barrel and it started up once more.

Clingin’ tightly to the rope then, I headed for the ground,

And I fell among the broken bricks that were scattered all around.

 

As I lay moanin’ on the ground, I thought I’d passed the worst,

And the barrel struck the pulley wheel and didn’t the bottom burst.

A shower of bricks came down on me, sure I didn’t have a hope,

And as I was losin’ consciousness, I let go the bloody rope.

 

Now the barrel being heavier, it started down once more,

And landed right across me as I lay there on the floor.

I broke three ribs and me left arm, and I can only say,

That I hope you understand why I can’t hash today with you today.

 

 

CREAK GOES THE MUSCLE OH

Melody – Green Grow the Rushes O

 

Who’ll give me one oh?

Creak goes the muscle oh,

What is your one oh?

 

One for the arrow up the steps never to be trusted,

Two, two, the jogging shoes all clogged up with mud, Ho Ho!

Three, three, the checkbacks we all missed,

Four for the worn out running kit,

Five for the toes of the worn out hashers,

Six for the pools of vomit,

Seven for the down downs after the run,

Eight for the ones who turned up late,

Nine for hashers lost at the check,

Ten for the virgins oh so cute,

Eleven for the hare who set the course,

Twelve for the mismanagement of the pack.

 

 

DAYLIGHT COME

Melody – Daylight Come and I Want To Go Home

 

CHORUS:

Day-oh, Day-a-a-oh,

Daylight come and I want to go home,

Day-oh, Day-a-a-oh,

Daylight come and I want to go home.

 

Frozen ballocks and frozen cock,

Daylight come and I want to go home,

Had a piss and froze to the block,

Daylight come and I want to go home.

 

Drew me a katoey from the hat,

Daylight come and I want to go home,

Didn’t have a rubber now I’ve got the clap,

Daylight come and I want to go home.

 

Drank a dozen down-downs before I puked,

Daylight come and I want to go home,

Spewed on the GM and got rebuked,

Daylight come and I want to go home.

 

Ended up in the Rock Hard ’round about dawn,

Daylight come and I want to go home,

Got my pocket picked by a girl called Porn,

Daylight come and I want to go home.

 

Now I’ve got to find cheap room and board,

Daylight come and I want to go home,

There I’ll stay till the next maraud,

Daylight come and I want to go home.

 

 

DEEP IN THE HEART OF TEXAS

Melody – Deep in the Heart of Texas

By Bollox, Phuket H3

Note: Song is about the 14th Texas Interhash (1997)

 

Chorus:

Deep in the Heart of Texas

That’s where the Houston Hash went

Deep in the Heart of Texas

Got Wet, got Pissed, fell Asleep in a Tent

Deep in the Heart of Texas

 

The Houston pack went to InterHash

The rain came Down almost washed us Back

Friday night was a sea of Mud

But the Smell was Farts from Boys in the Tub

Saturday came with Coffee and Sun

Last nights Beers gave us all the Runs

Jessica Rabbit wouldn’t Show her Tits

But Pinball was first to Hang out her Bits

The Run was Shit we got Wet to the Bone

Then the Cops told us all to Fuck off Home

Mighty Mouse swam for an Hour and a Half

At least Hooter/Drummer Bill finally got a Bath

The Nightime Run was in the Nude

Slum Bag was a girl but now she’s a Dude

She is Mr. InterHash for all to See

Does she now Stand up to take a Pee?

Sunday morning with Hangover Rife

Everybody woke up with Someone elses Wife

In the Afternoon we were Thrilled to Bits

We finally saw Full Service’s Tits

Those Colonials are all so Fuckin’ Queer

Pipes says he’s not from a Hash ’round Here

Bollox spent his time with Pants firmly ON

Almost Useless except he sang a Song

Twister is a Game played in the Nude

Bodies covered in Cream looked like Food

Showtime was Better than our Boy George

It wasn’t the Sun made his Dick Sore

 

 

DRUNKEN HASHER

Melody – Drunken Sailor

by Hazukashii, Yongsan HHH

 

What shall we do with the drunken hasher,

What shall we do with the drunken hasher,

What shall we do with the drunken hasher,

After all the down-downs?

 

CHORUS:

There he goes again – pukin’ in the bushes,

There he goes again – pukin’ in the bushes,

There he goes again – pukin’ in the bushes,

After all the down-downs.

 

Take away his whistle and send him on a BT,

He’ll take a wizz behind the old oak tree,

Then he’ll blow his nose on his old shirty,

After all the down-downs.

 

Then we’ll shave his ass with a rusty razor,

Shave his crotch with a new-fangled laser,

Zap him in the ass with a copper’s tazer,

After all the down-downs.

 

Shove a bag of flour up his asshole,

Soak it up with beer and add a piece of coal,

Then stand back boys he’s gonna blow,

After all the down-downs.

 

Put him in the back of the old hash wagon,

Drag him by a rope from the old hash wagon,

Kick him in the ass behind the old hash wagon,

After all the down-downs.

 

Send him home with the old hashit,

He won’t know – how he got it,

‘next weeks hash and throw a fit,

After all the down-downs.

 

That’s what we’ll do with the drunken hasher,

That’s what we’ll do with the drunken hasher,

That’s what we’ll do with the drunken hasher,

After all the down-downs.

 

 

EUROPE

Melody – America, from “West Side Story”

With apologies to Stephen Sondheim & Leonard Bernstein

By Flying Booger

 

Note: song requires two lead singers plus a chorus of hashers

 

ANNOYING SEPPO HASHER (ASH):

United States-O, you lovely nation

Nation of excellent hashing

Always the shiggy growing

Always the finest beer flowing

 

SNOTTY EURO-HASHER (SEH):

United States-O, you ugly nation

Nation of violent gunplay

Always the Hash List abusing

Always the fighting and flaming

And the buttchugs flowing

And nasty names giving

And the cheap beer swilling

I like the hashing in Europe

Open your gob and chew that in!

 

HASH CHORUS (sans ASH):

I’d rather hash in the UK

Elizabeth Queen in the UK

Hashing is fab in the UK

Cracking good hash in the UK!

 

ASH: I like the city of New York

SEH: As for yourself, you can get fucked

ASH: Hundreds of hashers, and all rude

SEH: You Yanks can all go & get screwed!

 

HASH CHORUS (sans ASH):

Citroen car drive in la belle France

Piss in the street in la belle France

Cinema Jerry Lewis in la France

Tres bien hashing in la France!

 

ASH: I’ll drink a Shiner in Austin

SEH: You will puke up what you drink in

ASH: I’ll buy the circle a cold case

SEH: After they taste, how you show face?

 

HASH CHORUS (sans ASH):

Gastarbeiter goes to old Deutschland

Gastarbeiter Raus! in old Deutschland

Not many hashes in Deutschland

More bier fuer die hashers in Deutschland!

 

ASH: I’ll bring your hash shit to Philly

SEH: I hope it falls off, your willy

ASH: I’ll give the virgin a hash name

SEH: American hash names are so lame!

 

HASH CHORUS (sans ASH):

I like to hash in Italia

Bombardier loos in Italia

Trails through the ruins in Italia

Beer okay, more so than America

 

ASH: I will subscribe to the Euro-List

SEH: Up your bum you can put Euro-fist

ASH: Virus alerts will I e-mail you

SEH: Bloody Yank, cram it up your flue!

 

 

THE FINAL DOWN-DOWN

Melody – The Final Countdown, by Europe

Contributed by ZiPpY, Pike’s Peak HHH

 

You’re leaving us, hasher,

And so it’s farewell

But maybe you’ll come back,

To hash, who can tell ?

 

And though there is no one to blame,

You’re leaving town,

Will trails ever be the same again?

It’s the final down-down . . .

 

You’ve run through the shiggy,

Still your cock [tits] stood tall

Slurped your drinks like a piggy

Fucked the harriettes [hasher chaps] all.

 

With so many check points to go

And trails to be found

I’m sure that we’ll all miss you so.

It’s the final down-down . . .

 

You’re leaving, you bastard,

May you shortcut to hell,

And screw fallen women [hashers]

And the devil as well.

 

And now you’ve run your last hash trail

So drink it all down,

Will hashing e’er be the same again?

It’s the final down-down . . .

 

 

GIVE A LITTLE WHISTLE

Melody – Give a Little Whistle

Contributed by Stray Dog, Global Trash

 

When you find the true trail and you want some com-pan-y,

Give a little whis-tle (whistle), give a little whis-tle (whistle).

When you meet temp-ta-tion and the urge to short-cut’s strong,

Give a little whis-tle (whistle), give a little whis-tle (whistle).

Not just an “On-Onnn!”  Puck-er up and Blow!

And if their whistle’s gone, yell, “Give ’em a down-down!”

Take the path that’s laid with hash and if you see Beer Near,

Give a little whis-tle (whistle), give a little whis-tle (whistle),

And always let the hash marks be your guide.

 

 

GUNGA’S SONG

Melody – Beverly Hillbillies Theme

Based on a true story about Gunga Dick, South Bay HHH, composed by hashers unknown

 

This here’s a story ’bout a man named Gunga,

He had no prick, so he had to use his tongue-a.

It was down in Houston at a Hash house Harriers’ run,

A harlot straddled him and said, “Let’s have some fun!”

You know . . . moustache rides . . . face smegma . . .

 

Well the next thing you know old Gunga’s caught in the act,

The Hash folks said, “You oughtn’t be lickin’ that!

The pound is the place where she ought to be.”

He didn’t have a worry, except for VD.

You know . . . tongue rot . . . herpes sores . . .

 

Well, the moral told here is when you’re hashing in Texas,

You ought to keep your tongue out of other people’s sexes.

They thought they’d honor him for public cunnilingus,

Now Gunga’s called . . . Gungalingus.

 

 

HANDSOME HASHER

Melody – Pretty Woman

By Lady Fingers & Twinkie, Austin HHH

 

Handsome Hasher, running down the street,

Handsome Hasher, the kind I like to meet,

Handsome Hasher, I don’t believe you, you’re not true,

No one could be hung like you.

 

Handsome Hasher, won’t you pardon me,

Handsome Hasher, I couldn’t help but see,

Handsome hasher, you look horny, I can see,

Are you horny just like me?

 

Handsome Hasher, stop a while,

Handsome Hasher, talk a while,

Handsome Hasher, give your cock to me,

Handsome Hasher, yeh, yeh, yeh.

 

Handsome Hasher, say you’ll come,

Handsome Hasher, say you’ll come with me,

Cause I need you, I’ll treat you right,

Come with me baby, be mine tonight.

 

Handsome Hasher, don’t run on by,

Handsome Hasher, don’t make me cry,

Handsome Hasher, don’t run away.

OK, if that’s the way it must be, OK,

I guess I’ll go home and masturbate,

There’ll be tomorrow night, I’ll wait.

 

What do I see?

Is he jogging back to me?

Yes, he’s jogging back to me,

Oh, oh, handsome Hasher.

 

 

HARE!

Melody – “Hair” from the musical Hair!

By Asshole, performed at Americas Interhash 99 in Pittsburgh

 

She asked me why

Why I’m a haring guy

I’m haring morning noon and nighty night night

I’m haring high and low

But don’t ask me why

Cause he don’t know

So give me shoes with tread

For my trail’s not dead, Darling….

Oh, Gimme a trail to hare

And I’ll be your hare

Long trail, short trail I don’t really care, hare!

Throw it down there, hare

Shorter length or longer, Hare

Here baby, there mama I’ll be your haring daddy

Hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare!

Throw it, show it, as long as I can throw it I’ll hare

I toss flour in the breeze

Which gets caught up in the weeds

If I see the pack I flee when I hare.

As I roam through the trees

I hide from the FRBs

For they are turds

There ain’t no words

For the beauty, the splendor, the wonder when I…

Hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare

Don’t blow it, when I throw it,

As long as I can go with it I’ll hare!

I throw it long, straight, curvy, wurvey,

Shiggy, shaggy, nice and nasty

hilly, easy, fleetly

Streams that gleam and sometimes toxic

Trot it, polka-dot it

Twist it, beat it, wadd it

Powdered, floured, and confettied,

mangled, tangled, spangled, and near spaghetti (junction)!

Oh say can you see

The end of my trail,

Then it’s way too short!

Down a beer

Then I’m out of here

Down over here

Then over there

Don’t try to shortcut it or you’ll be somewhere else!

Oh, Gimme a trail to hare

And I’ll be your hare

Long trail, short trail I don’t really care, hare!

Throw it down there, hare

Shorter length or longer, Hare

Here baby, there mama I’ll be your haring daddy

Hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare!

Throw it, show it, as long as I can throw it I’ll hare

Hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare

Throw it, show it,

Long as I can throw it I’ll hare

Hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare!

 

 

HARRIETTE THE TATTOOED HASHER

Melody – Lydia the Tattooed Lady

Original by H. Arlen & E. T. Harburg, obscene variation by ZiPpy, Pike’s Peak H4

 

Harriette, oh Harriette,

Say have you met Harriette,

Harriette the tattooed hasher.

She has eyes that harriers adore so,

And a torso even more so.

 

Harriette, oh Harriette,

That sexy little vignette,

Harriette the erotic queen of tattoo.

On one tit is a mural of Adam’s first screw,

Beside it a drawing of Eve’s blow-job too.

And right above is her price list in blue,

You can get your rocks off with Harriette.

 

Titty bum, titty bum, titty bum, titty bum

 

She can give you a view of sex in tattoos,

If you step up and tell her what.

For only a buck you can see doggies fuck,

Or sixty-nine different kinds of twat.

 

Titty bum, titty bum, titty bum, titty bum

 

Harriette, oh Harriette,

Harriette, the tattooed hasher,

When her muscles start aflexin,’

All the tattoos get an erection.

 

Harriette, oh Harriette,

Harriette the harlot we love,

She once swept our GM clear off his feet,

The design on her behind made his heart skip a beat,

And now a tiny bastard sucks at her teat,

For he went and fucked our Harriette.

 

 

HARRIETTES, THEY PLAY ONE

Melody – This Old Man

 

Harriettes, they play one,

All they want to do is cum,

 

CHORUS:

With a knick knack, slap her ass, poke her with my bone,

This drunk hare will stumble home.

 

Harriettes, they play two,

We just want to speckle you,

 

Harriettes, they play three,

Won’t you swallow my cum for me,

 

Harriettes, they play four,

We like to see you on all fours,

 

Harriettes, they play five,

If you don’t swallow you’ll get hives,

 

Harriettes, they play six,

We just want to slap you with our dicks,

 

Harriettes, they play seven,

But they all just wish it was eleven,

 

Harriettes, they play eight,

We all know you masturbate,

 

Harriettes, they play nine,

All they do is whinge and whine,

 

Harriettes, they play ten,

We’re not boys, we’re harrier men,

 

Harriettes, they play eleven,

But all they can handle is only seven.

 

 

HAS ANYBODY SEEN R J?

Melody – Has Anybody Seen My Gal?

By Tongueless, Gypsies in the Palace HHH

Note: R J is Rong Jon, a living hash legend

 

Five foot two, eyes of blue

He’ll always be more drunk than you.

Has anybody seen R J?

 

Eyes of red, almost dead,

Gutters are his favorite bed.

Has anybody seen R J?

 

Holy Ghost, he’s the most,

Cheese and crackers when he’s the host.

Has anybody seen R J?

 

Talk to him, he’s no fool,

He’ll end up float

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