San Antonio Hash House Harriers

Why: [ahem. Juicy you may now stop reading]
A long time ago in a city kind of far away, a young lad of years at least numbering 21 times around the localized area of a perhaps typical solar system in the unfashinable arm of the Milky Way- on a Memorial Day Weekend – was given the opportunity to join view “Tulsaites” in a fun run excercisey thing that also involved beer and other forms of adult beverage.
The lad liked it and kept opting to join this “Society of Hashinge Induhviduals” each week. this was long before there were stylized social media sites, and people had to use a “telly fone” to call a “foney number” and listen to an “outgoing message” on an “Ansa ring mashing” to find out where the next start location of the secret society would be. Alternatively, it was possible to “talk” with someone in the society. Weird, right? Quite quickly, the lad became the song maester of this society.

At some point in all these Goings On, a new washer and dryer set was ordered and delivered to the lad’s apartment (whose relevance shall become clear quite soon). They were oversized, but the dimensions appeared to indicate they were able to fit into the washroomal area in the apartment. They happened to be delivered on the same day the secret society was to galavant around a section of Tulsa. However, a few attempts to fit the devices into said slots appeared to be futile, and the lad, disappointed and not just a little peeved decided a good excercising would help sort out the frustration and what should next be done about it.
During the hash, the lad ran through the options with what was then the Righteous Asshole and, upon finishing the drinking of beer and getting of some air and returning to the apartment, hte lad did a quick adjustment of the polar coordinates of the washinge and dryinge devices and they moved right into their resting places.

The next week, the lad was asked what had been done with or to the Eveel Devices, and he told his heroic tale of successfully turning the implents 90 degrees counte clockwide and slipping them into the area. At the end of that day’s moving of the legs, he was at upon a throne of ice and became the boy you know today: Tite Boxx.

And that is the tale of tite Boxx, many songs have been sung and ballads created in extremely short verse for and by this name. The tales of the other names bestowed are for another time.

On-On
Tite Boxx, Urinal Biscuit, I Can’t Jump Puddles, hon: I Can’t Do That Sitting Down