top of page

LOG JAMMER LOG JAMMER LOG JAMMER

The No Name Hash began at Bloomington Park, in the most delightful part of Portland between I-205 and Gresham. Chatter immediately began as everyone eagerly anticipated the pyrotechnics and debauchery that was sure to occur in the name of Log Jammer’s birthday. Log Jammer would not arrive for another three hours, but the No Name Hash would not let that small fact deter us from indulging in birthday-themed festivities as soon as possible. In fact, I began pre-funking for Log Jammer’s birthday the evening before at the Hump Hash, still, unfortunately, without her.

Wiener Retriever was our very flexible hare. A slave to the whims of the much-anticipated Log Jammer surprise party, he had to change his trail location three times. “That’s okay,” he says, “I’ll just have two trails in my back pocket for later.”

ATTN: Hare Raisers

Weiner Retriever is easy prey right now if you need a hare in short notice.

As we set out for trail, Milkbone exclaimed that she could not run because she had to carry her brand new dog-like accessory. She called it Gracie and it was so small that my cat could eat it as an appetizer before a much larger, more satisfying course (My pussy can eat your dog?).

Trail was the perfect kind of shitty, because as I wandered with Milkbone and her purse-rat, I watched the FRBs run every which way around me without ever being too far away. Right about the time I was becoming thirsty, we happened upon some shiggy and found the beer check.

We needed to properly prepare ourselves for Log Jammer, so the beer check contained 40s (for her 40th year of explosions) and birthday hats. We drank, talked about Log Jammer, and wore birthday hats. Log Jammer would not arrive for another two hours.

After moderate circle jerking, we then made it to the second beer check and celebrated Log Jammer’s birthday with birthday cake vodka and more 40s. Maybe you only turn 40 once, but you can drink many 40s.

Finally, we got to Log Jammer’s birthday party (also known as the On In). Log Jammer would not arrive for another hour, but there was candy, beer, chips, and wieners. The party would not wait for her. We continued to drink and talk about how awesome Log Jammer is.

After some time, there was still no Log Jammer, so we started religion without her. There were two visitors from the Stumptown hash and a virgin, and a Hash Scribe worth her weight in beer would be able to tell you what their names were. But none of that is important—because Log Jammer was about to arrive. We stopped mid-circle and crammed into the garage (read into that what you will). Felcher gave us Pop-Its to throw into Log Jammer’s face when she arrived.

By this time, we were all full on smashed from our extensive celebrations of Log Jammer’s birthday, and we were unable to be silent or still or reasonable in any way that would help maintain the surprise factor of this party. Pop-Its popped in every direction as Felcher shushed us and insisted those were for Log Jammer.

Finally, after three hours of celebrating without her, Log Jammer arrived. The garage door opened and we poured out onto Felcher’s front yard, stormed her car, and threw Pop-Its at her when she opened her door. She maintains this was truly a surprise, because she a good friend, and a good fiancé.

Now, the true climax of this entire event was still yet to occur. This was like tantric sex, we were dripping after such a long period of anticipation. Now with Log Jammer there, we continued circle. Log Jammer was the recent recipient of the hash shit for the Hump Hash. The hash shit was huge, heavy, and smelly. There was a bit of fuzz on it and a nest of flies. So, the No Name Hash agreed that it was time. Yes, there was a fire. Yes, we had the hash shit. But that’s not all—we also had a FUCKING FLAME THROWER. To cap off Log Jammer’s grand birthday celebration, she blow torched the Hump Hash shit before burning it in a beautiful blue green cancerous flame (video available somewhere). So, in sum, Happy Birthday Log Jammer! Also, congratulations on getting fucking engaged! Marriage isn’t as bad as they say. And we swang low.

I plan to continue celebrating Log Jammer’s birthday tonight at Gil’s.

Then I am dedicating my first running of the Penthashalon to Log Jammer.

Let the celebrations continue!

Monday: Ice Boxxx chills the Kahuna

Tuesday: Clownmydia eats a Beaver

Wednesday: Fuck Him, I Did and Manberry Cunt Cake Hump

Thursday: Jacket Off jacks off the No Name

Log Jammer’s truly,

Romancing the Bone


bottom of page