Missed a hash? Catch up on all the trash here...
|Nadia Virgin Lay Trash
(about 1 month ago)
What: Just Nadia’s Virgin Lay
Where: Vito’s Tavern, North End, Boston
Hares: Just Nadia, Not Dead Yet
Bag car: Luva Lamp
Barry Man Below, Wondering Whore, Black Cock Down, Udder Whore, Dribbles, The Butler Hit It, Wikipedophilia, Senior Sodomizing Slut, Honorable Vaginal Discharge, Sex The Final Frontier, Fellowship of the Cockring, Shart of Darkness, other people I forget
I arrived early and added their bathroom to the list of “place which aren’t bad to change in” - not all bar bathrooms make for easy changing, and had a nice pretrial conversation with the racist Yellow Dick Gnome and Plus 2 Coonass, who were joining us for pretrial wine before packing to go run a marathon...shame! Pack filtered in, and I would have expected a larger crowd for a down-town trial, but maybe it was the weather, which was fine at the start. The bar was none to pleased with having a dozen people hanging out around the bar, and I doubt would have tolerated our numbers if we were any more than double that. Eventually the hares showed up and were shooed out and pack left, getting tired of the RA bragging about how great the weather was going to be.
Was held in a parking lot/alley type place in front of the North End, there were no virgins (and limited pack chalk) so it was mainly for visitors.
Trial “What does ‘Near’ mean?”:
Trial started out running up through the north end, and turning quickly right to a song check in front of the Chatuaex 2: The Electric Boogalouex, and we sang the the residents therein a song about a maiden who wore woolens in the winter, and silk in the fall, but sometimes when it’s really hot she wore nothing at all...From there trial hit a strangely successful hash sitapeed in front of a famous pizza place before running up hill to a tit check. I did some bad zenning, ran down the hill then looped around to find pack by the north end skating rink. Pack was running full speed, having hit a Beer Near near the rink, but there was no beer, anywhere, near. We ran under the bridge to Charlestown to a tit check. I followed a two and out up the bridge and watched pack run over the locks before coming into the beer check from the other side.
Beer Check “Hey look, it’s Shart!”
Shart showed up at the beer check and told us about how she got all her coworkers drunk tasting shitty beer. Surprisingly, they couldn’t tell the difference because they all taste like shit. Our beer also was shitty, so she kept on dranking. The hares quietly scampered off and we followed them.
Trial “Well, maybe this won’t be so bad”:
There was a song check at the base of the footbridge over the train tracks to lechmere, then trial went over the bridge to a shot check (fireball and apple juice) in the park/playground where we beer miled for marathon. Trial left the park, ran behind the Museum of Science (with 2 sets of 2 and outs back to Boston), to another beer near over the canal and a beer check in the park behind the MoS on the Cambridge side of the river.
Beer check #2...maybe onin?
The hares had said it was a short trial - most of pack had run less than three miles - with one beer check, so we kinda thought maybe onin? But now, it was just a beer check, but we were told the end was near, and since it was beginning the mist heavily, the hares took off.
Trial “Yeah, no we were no where near the OnIn”:
It came out later that trial had only been scouted to the second beer check The onin was back in the North End, in the park overlooking the harbor and the aforementioned ice rink. The hares had run out of chalk - pack found a couple of large pieces by the shot check - and forgot to buy flour. What proceeded from the beer check to the onin is every hashers favourite game; agressive scouting, in which park runs mark to mark (block to block) and fans out and scouts each mark, since most of the checks, and half of the marks had been washed away. At some point, after crossing the Longfellow, the hares started to mark on the sides of buildings which was better, but not ideal. It took us quite a while, about an hour in windy mist - to finally find trial to the onin. I’m gonna be honest; i love shitty, washed out trails! I hate them so much when I’m on trial, but the accomplishment is so cool! Eventually we found overlaid marks through the north end and a beer near up a hill to bag car.
Circle (or, oh, right, now the rain stops):
The rain stopped and it got cold just as everyone had stopped running and was soaking wet. Since the pizzas were already there, pack ate before we circled. We tried to keep the volume down - it wasn’t a true whisper circle, but my throat doesn’t hurt. We called in the hare and made sure that they knew that they should’ve used more flour and chalk. The hares then tried to sing us “Assoldier I will be” but just started yelling “For cunt! For cunt!” We corrected them, then sang them of their stupidity. The FBI - Udder Whore - and FRB - The Other Whore - were called in and we sang to their crimes, then the DFL - Shart - was called in and we wondered if she was lonesome. Given the lack of virgins, visitors were called in next; and Barry sang us an amazing song about the Kennedys...I need to get the lyrics. Circle was then opened up to accusations, and the hares were called in from losing chalk on trial. Then everyone who left the shot check early was called in and Barry again treated us to verses of “Face Down” no one knew. Somehow that turned into Barry telling a story about the first, and best, Boston trial he’d ever been on, and I will do my best to retell it here:
The Background is that two hashers were getting married, but didn’t want all the hashers at their wedding, but you know, still wanted to party with them, so they arranged for a trial to be laid with a beer check (open bar) at their reception. Great idea, right? So the hash made their way up to Nahanet (pinkies out, bitches) for trial. On their way to the start, they drove by the Nahhanet Country Club and saw a very obvious wedding party gathering, churtle, churtle, this is going to be fun! Trial starts and it immediately dives into chest-deep rotting sea-water marsh, which the hash slogs through. There’s a check at the bottom of the hill, with clear marks leading up to the main kitchen building of the country club, sweat, it’s time! Thinks the hash as they charge up the hill - covered in mud and seaweed and reeking swamp death rot - and they burst right into the main reception hall just as the bride and groom are cutting the cake! Perfect timing! Except no. They misread the X at the door the kitchens as a check, when it was a FALSE TRIAL. This was the wrong wedding! Everyone turned to this group of mudy runner-looking people in the middle of their black-tie wedding. The groom asked “Um, can we help you?” And the hash beat a hasty retreat back down to the swamp to find trial leading to the Nahant Yatch Club! Therein they found the correct wedding party, had all the open bar drinks and sang with the bride, groom, brides family, grooms family, and everyone had a great time.
Dribbles - while not admitting to be on trial - did admit to this having happened under her GMship, so when one ex-GM drinks, we all drink! From there no other accusations could really hold up, so we swang low.
On - the weather was fine for the part of trial they scouted - On
Saturday 9/9: Beaver AGM -> I think the details are in the FB group
Wednesday 9/13: Yankee trial in Dorchester. Details will be announced soon; start and end will be near the JFK stop on the Redline.
Friday 9/22-24: Boston Ballbuster Hardcore Hash House Harriers Trust me! Details are on the calendar at bostonhash.com (click the calendar link on the top menu bar)
Saturday 9/30: Boston H3 AGM -> Our an*l leadership change-over party! Congratulate the old Mismanagment by getting them black out drunk and keep the new mismanagement black out so they don’t remember what they sign up for!
Sunday 10/1: TRIALS SWITCH TO SUNDAY, and it’s the Fat Boy trial hared by your new GMs!
|Summer BBQ Hash
(about 2 months ago)
What: Summer BBQ Hash
Where: Tasty Burger
Who: Show Me the Penis, Clit Notes
(Bag car: Goat Throat)
Pack: There sure were a lot of you. Fellowship took attendance, but here’s what I have from memory: Nercopheliac Jack, Vagabond, Plus 2 Coonass, Yellow Dick Gnome, CPA, Goes Down on Bouys, The Butler Hit It, Black cock down, Beat By a Girl, Rammerhead Shark, her virgin, Wikipedophilia, Bottom Wrangler, No Man on the Moon, Honorable Vaginal Discharge, Luva Lamp, Mudslut, Anal Apologist, Foreskin Abortion, Swedish Eagle, Five In Penalty, 3 Ring Cervix, Pat My Fly, Dribbles, lots of other people, but let's get to the hash...
People got to the bar early, and by 6:30 we had pretty much taken over the area in front of the bar in the Tasty Basement. The RAs briefly considered doing a PBR race to see who would lead circle, but decided to tag-team it instead. Butler was walking around with a bag of visibility green cookies offering his rage-enhancing baked goods to the masses. I will say they were, um, pungent, and kinda numbed the lips...anyway...luckily I had set a timer so after the hares had been gay for 6.9minutes, bag car was called and we left Tasty Burger
Trial to Bag Car:
Was up a rather long set of 4 flights of stairs. We did introductions and shared our favourite BBQd meat. Trial would be short, we were told, with jello shots - at which point a jello shot was lobbed at the RA - and a beer check. Understanding our mission - rage first, maybe run a bit - we ran down the stairs back to the bar for the start of trial.
The problem with “knowing” where trial goes, is that trial almost never “goes” the way you “think” it will. Trial ran down Mt. Auburn street for a block, then turned up and ran across Mass Ave and into Harvard Yard. There was a hash sitepead - which was captured on film - and a song check “young girls” which caused a passing student (in a poloshirt), to comment to the girl he was walking with “Ugh, that’s so vile.” Not wanting to disturb the sensibilities of the Harvard crowd any more, we ran behind the science and math buildings to a long song check at the law school, about the various professions our significant others might wish to pursue. Trial was marked through a sunken quad with a volley ball net to a YBF in front of YHS (your humble scribe’s) apartment. I blew through the YBF, grabbed 4 heady toppers from my fridge than ran back and rejoined trial in front of the Sheraton Command/Nubar on the other side of Cambridge Common. Trial continued us on our tour of Harvard, this time going through the divinity school. There was some confusion as to if we were heading for Longfellow Park or Hemingway Park (it was Longfellow), and we ran past a BN, past bag car, past the statue, across the field, then into the slightly sketcher field on the other side of the road for the beer check.
Beer check KC:
There was no Kansas City beer, but there was Naragansett and Jello shots. Lots of Jello shots, some of which didn’t taste horrible. We stayed there probably for way too long, drank all the beer, and eventually decided perhaps we should chase the hares to see where this trail would lead us.
Trial South Carolina:
Guessing that trial went south, everyone scouted towards Mt Auburn hospital from the check, but there were no marks that way. Instead trial ran about a 2 block detour through some public housing developments before linking back up Memorial Drive about 50 yards down the road from the beer check. Pack had caught up with the walker so must of us just sauntered to the OnIn, though maybe a dozen people broke off and followed trial to more shots.
As soon as pack got to the ONIN, the grill was fired up and Spunk, Butler and 3 Ring, I think, started cooking for all of us (thank you!). There was some standing around indecision until it was announced that there was an open tab for us inside the bar. I took this knowledge, went inside, got myself a beer, then started walking around telling people how to get their well-earned beer. Pack generally milled around for a while as the food was cooked and beers were drunk. After everyone had been feed and beered, the RAs move off the patio onto the lawn and sang the siren song of “Hares of her Dicky-dino” to get the pack to circle:
After taking a fearfully long time to assemble - or maybe not, i was 2 cookies, multiple jello shots and a few beers in a that point - pack eventually formed up and the hares sat in the middle. We went around asking for comments; generally not enough check backs, too many smaht khids and not enough jello shots. The RAs decided that the hares should’ve used more flour and chalk, and we expressed these wishes, joined by the pack, to the hares in song. The hares then responded that their cocks would choke us. We threw them out of circle and called the FRB/FBI (five inch and orgasmn) in and song to them. Butler was called in for being DFL, and we asked, in perfect 36 part harmony, if he was lonesome on trial. At this point the rest of pack was having a good time, but there was one person who looked extremely confused, so we called the virgin into circle and welcomed the return of PoPo Peep Show as Dementress! It was as glorious as it ever was, and while the virgin did not turn out to be acceptable, we’ll take her anyway. We then called in back sliders, because there were a lot, and inquired as to their locations over the last few months. Backsliders were thrown out and we opened up circle to accusations. People who blew through the YBF to get good beer were called in, as was anyone who ate a butler cookie. YHS and Butler were then accused of turning a Phish song into a hash song and we had to drink. Then Jello-shot H3 was called in (for the first of many times) and they did something, drank, then left. Show Me the Penis was then called in for leaving, and after a rousing rendition of “Fuck off” she drank from the Wooden Shoe, and got out of circle. I believe that Jello-Shot H3 came in again for more shenanigans, and we started to wrap up accusations with birthdays, and it’s Show Me’s birthday, and when one ex-gm drinks, we all drink! More shenanigans until it was time for announcements, see below. It was getting late and we were all drunk, so we swang low.
On - BBQ - On
There are (still) open position in MISMANAGMENT for next year, including SCRIBE! If you have an interest in story telling (real or not) then contact me or the GMs and we'll get you set up for next year.
Wednesday 9/6 -> (Next Wednesday) WE NEED HARES (at least at the time of the writing of this trash) contact Dry Hose, or Udder Whore
Wednesday 9/15 -> A YANKEE trial!
Saturday 9/16: New York City Red Dress -> Run around Manhattan in a Red Dress:
Friday 9/22 -> Sunday 9/24: Ball Buster Hardcore Hash House Harriers Trust Me v3.69: Register in the FB group, or from the link in the e-mail to the runs list! There’s limited space, but there are still some open slots!
(Or reply to this e-mail/post and I’ll send you the rego info)
Saturday 9/30: Boston H3 AGM
Sometime in October: Moon AGM
Sometime in November: Sadie Hawkins
Sometime in December: Holiday Party
Sometime in January: Robbie Burns
Sometime in Feburary: Moon Away
Sometime in March: Burlington Mardi Gras, Philly Green Dress
Thrird Weekend in April: Boston Marathon 2018
May: SFH3 Bay To Blackout!
July: Burlington Invihash!
August: Boston Hash BBQ!
|Not my circus, not my monkeys trash
(about 2 months ago)
What: Not my monkeys, not my cricus trial
Where: Ashmount Grill
Who: Gluteness Maximus, Broke Back Baby*, Just someone
Pop Cum Ear, I’m Infective, Pat My Fly, Dirbbles, Spunk in the Trunk, Sketchy Ho, Quater Mile Queer, The Butler Hit It, Orgasm Falmon, Not Dead Yet, Blubber Fucker, a transplant from San Jose, his two virgins, others I forget.
Fearing that the redline to ashmount might be a rather long journey - one that your humble scribe (YHS), has never undertaken before, I left work at 5ish, and headed due south. After some unsurprising redline delays, I got to the bar just before six and ordered a beer to pass the time while I waited for pack. Pop cum ear came next and assulted their wishkey selection. Blubber fucker showed - shocked as he was to see us we were to see him and we started drinking reminesing about shitty trails of yore. The rest of pack slowly arrive, and by the time the hares were gay it was well after 7, so bag car was called directly and we shuffled out of the bar questioning why we ever decided to hash in Ashmount.
After explaining all the marks to the transplants and virgins - apparently San Jose uses flour so the marks are either three dots, or one - we took off in search of trial, which clearly went up hill towards Quincy. There was some discussion of the direction trial would go - Quincy, Milton or Dorchester - and this seemed to solve it. We ran down a few streets in a roughly zig-zag way (always going up hill, of course), until we got to the first fish hook. There was some confusion as to how and when the shots were to be drunk, so could the next hare who uses this mark please tell the RA more than “there will be fishhooks” - anyway, the first 3 FRBs downed some nips of shitty vodka and ran to the back of pack. The next block had an SN (hidden) and then two marks straight. I guess technically SN is a check, but we were drunk and didn’t scout very well as there was a true trial pointing to play ground literally on the other side of the street, in which we found the hares and 3 bottles of glutenlesses’ standard “apple juice and vodka” cocktails. We told the hares to GTFO and passed around those vial bottles while discussing hash events past and future.
Trial Gdansk (did it used to be called something else?)
Trial from the shot check ran across a rather busy 4-lane road which, thanks to CEPs observation, featured working pedestrian crossing lights. Protected by the red lights and under the watchful gaze of the white watch man, we ran across the street then up a hill. There was a check and we ran up another hill. Shockingly we then ran down a hill past a bunch of school kids on bikes who were confused as to what we were doing until we told them it was a scavenger hunt. Not wanting to be pick up for child abuse, we quickly ran away and into a park by the river. There was the most obvious check back mark in history on the entrance to the Neopononsett bike path, so quater mile and i decided (at Blubbers suggestion) to scout the other side of the bridge before heading down the path, and to our luck, we found marks. I crossed the street to behind technically ahead of him when I hit a fishhook 1. I downed the shot and turned and hoped to see pack crossing the bridge from the check back. I saw no such thing, so Quater mile cared on as I ran back across the bridge, then down the bike path to where I started to encounter pack coming back from the check back, so I turned around a followed them only to be greeted by Quater mile who had found another fishook 1 and ran back to keep me company. Trial then passed under 93 and dove into the shiggy hugging the edge of the Presidents golf course before emerging for a brief jaunt through suburbia before heading back into some light shiggy at the southern end of the neoponsett river marshes. Thank G there was a beer check.
Beer check Katowiceo:
There was beer and orange food in the woods. The hares were informed how packs opinion on trial, then ran away. Ten minutes later, we chased them.
Trial actually did not go uphill from the beer check, though I did scout it. Trial ran through some back roads and over a mound before crossing through a whole streach of parking lots. The night time parking lot guards were none too happy with a couple dozen people running through their ... pristinely manicured fields of asphalt? I really have no idea what their deal was. They enthusiastically told us that if something happened to us they’d be liable and that they would call the cops if we didn’t leave. We told them we were trying to but didn’t know where to go. This confused them even more - life must be simple if your job is to guard a parking lot from runners - anyway, eventually trial was called on and we left the guards alone with deep and meaningful questions about life and their position in it. Trial continued down the back road behind North Quincy station, best that weird Best Western to OnIn under the Neoponsett river bridge.
Food was provided - cold cut sandwhiches with pickles - so it was handed out before circle. Once everyone had inhaled their rolls of most bread and some meat and beers were handed out, circle was started and the hares were called in. People need to learn more versuses to all songs, including, but not limited to, Hares of Her Dickey-di-do. We sing it every week. It’s not that hard. Anyway, pack was asked for their comments on trial - too many fishhooks, what’s shiggy on a boston trial, and too many death marches - were the common theme. Summed up, we told the hares that they should have used more flour and chalk, then asked them to try to repair our opinion of them by singing for us. They launched into el camino, and after everyone (not just me!) butchered their verse, we ended it, thanked them for setting trial and kicked them out of circle. The FRB and FBI were called in - Not Dead Yet and maybe Quater mile? I forget, we told them they weren’t 5, 4, 3, 2 or 1, and then made them drink. We then called in DFL and FALMON proudly declared it was her! Butler joined her for support and we tried to inquire via song if they were lonesome, but I’m pretty sure I messed up that song too. Blubber Fucker was then accused of being Blubber Fucker and was made to drink. We then called in the transplant, welcoming him with a brotherly song then he sang to us about this prodigious foreskins. Looking around circle there were two very confused women watching the proceedings, so we called in the virgins and handed them over to the capable hands of “Drunk Spunk” to dement them. They were revealed to be helpful virgins - they’d help their uncle jack off a roof, and get off on a bus of lesbians. I didn’t know their favourite cartoons, so I can’t comment, but they weren’t very good at math and their metaphorical skills were lack, but it’s okay. We showed them how to do a down-down and accepted them into our midsts. Important business being over, circle was opened to accusations, and, I’m not gonna lie, I’d been drinking and this is where my memory gets fuzzy. There were accusations for racist attire, people who hit fishhooks, people who ran the checkbacks, people who got stopped by parking-lot cops, and bald hashers. The ex-gms all drank, as did ex-ras. Yeah, things got fuzzy. See below for announcements, and we did an inverted swing low - last verse, second verse, first verse. This was totally planned and not at all the RAs mistake.
On - Poland, I guess? - On
Wednesday 8/30 -> HASH BBQ Trial! Start is Tasty Burger in Harvard Square.
Friday 9/1-9/3 -> Harbour Islands campout! I think there’s an event somewhere? Take the ferry out Friday night or Saturday morning and show up for trial. Stay home in the city, or camp on the islands! It’s up to you!
September 22-24: Ball Buster Hard Core Hash House Harriers Trust Me #3 -> Rego will go up next week! Stay tuned!
|A glorious summer trail
(3 months ago)
Howdy Wankers and Bimbos!
Without our hash trash, Wiki, on trail last night, if falls upon yours truly to write up notes from trail. I'll do my best, but I was sorta drunk last night, so I might forget some important points. And I cannot guarantee as many unintentionally hilarious misspellings and grammar mistakes as you have come to expect from these hash trashes.
What: A Glorious Summer Trail
Hares: Swedish Eagle, Senor Cocksucker
Bag car: Sketchy Ho
Pack: Yellow Dick Gnome, Easy as 123, Orgasm Famine, Bottom Wrangler, Fellowship of the Cock Ring, Sex the Final Frontier, Brown vs. the Board of Fornication, Goes Down on Buoys, I Eat Tbags, Luva Lamp, No Man on the Moon, Mud Slut, The Buttler Hit It, Salty Mudflaps, Dry Hose, two visitors, three Justs, three virgins, lots more people that I either forgot or don't know their hash names or don't care
Pre-lube: American Fresh Brew House Beer Garden, in Assembly Square.
Pack assembled (heh, see what I did there?), and some hashers tried to get info on trail, to decide whether or not to walk. Sweagle promised them that walkers trail sucked, so they might as well run. I'm pretty sure Brown vs. the Board of Fornication was the only walker. At some point, hares were gay, and pack milled about for a while longer before heading over to bag car and chalk talk.
During chalk talk, we learned that there were not one, not two, but three virgins! We promised not to lose them, but you should never believe a hasher's promises. We learned about lots of different marks, then ran off to find trail.
Trail part It's Summah, Kid:
First mark was a check in front of the pre-lube, and trail went through Assembly Sq, leading to a check (but strangely, not a song check) in front of the giant lego giraffe. From the check, trail led to a parking lot across the street, except it wound up being a YBF (this will be a recurring theme for trail). Trail instead took us across a bridge into Medford. We wended our way generally northward, through some neighborhoods, finding checks and falses all along the way, until we eventually turned onto some abandoned railroad tracks, and then into a wooded area to find the first beer check, about two miles in.
Beer check Where's the Beer?:
We arrived at beer check to find one hare (Senor), but no bag car or beer. Apparently Sweagle told Sketchy the wrong location, and Senor didn't have Sketchy's contact info. We started pulling out phones, trying to find Sketchy's contact info. Every time we called her, we got her voicemail, and pack was starting to become concerned about the lack of beer. I have no idea who finally got a hold of Sketchy, but eventually beer did arrive. Pack set about drinking their tasty beverages, and hares were gay at some point. Sex, Bottom Wrangler, and I shared some terrible Holocaust jokes, and eventually pack was away.
Trail part We Assume Senor Was No Longer Haring:
Trail left the woods, and we quickly found a check at a large intersection. Despite checking every direction, no one could find anything other than a false. Pack started ranging, and eventually we found a check. Once again, we could not find trail (aside from a two and out), so pack again started ranging. We finally found trail after a long section of no marks. Pack agreed that Senor must not have been haring on this section, because trail went from well-marked to a complete shit-show. We eventually ended up on a bike path, and then came across a hash sitapede. Since engaging in a hash sitapede on a well-used bike path in the dark seemed like a terrible idea, we moved over slightly, and had a mostly successful sitapede. From there, trail continued on the bike path to the second beer check, about 4 miles total into trail.
Beer check Is There Anywhere To Pee Around Here?
Short answer: no. Pack drank some more delicious beverages, ate some orange food, and contemplated the fact that there were no convenient bushes to pee behind. Sweagle promised us that we were close to the end of trail, though "close" for Sweagle is not necessarily close for anyone else. As soon as hares were gay, Bottom Wrangler called 6.9 minutes to pack away.
Trail part It's Full On Dark Now
...and almost no one had cranium lamps. Also, here's a little known fact: pink chalk is basically invisible in the dark. At this point, we were definitely somewhere in Malden. After a few checks, trail was mostly a straight shot to Waitts Mountain park, and it's beautiful views of Boston, for a total trail length of about 5.5 miles.
On-in Do You Know About Public Drinking Laws?
Pack started drinking their beverages, and hares were called into circle. Pack agreed that their trail was S-H-I-T-T-Y, so we sang them a song about their shitty trail. Visitors were brought into circle, and made to sing the songs of their people. Around this time, we realized that walker(s) had not arrived yet. When asked where Brown was, I was told she was on a "separate but unequal trail", which definitely wins comment of the night. Virgins were brought into circle, along with their sponsors, which is when we discovered that all three virgins were brought by Justs! They were demented by yours truly, illustrious Dementress Emeritus Extraordinaire! They were asked what the square root of 69 was, and a sponsor answered for them (bad sponsor!). They were also asked what a dollar over my crotch might be and after some rather creative answers that I can't remember, pack explained that one to them. We taught them how to do down downs, then tossed them out of circle. FBI, FRB, and DFL were called into circle and that's when we discovered that Brown had in fact made it to on-in! Hooray! Finally, circle was opened to accusations. I was accused of claiming to be afraid of head (head, who said head? Also, I have NEVER been afraid of head. I will not have my good name tarnished in this manner!). Circle was just getting good when we saw some flash lights coming towards us. It was, literally, 10 cops with nothing better to do then break up our harmless fun. Cop Mr. Big Shot looked to be about 20. He asked who was in charge (no one), why we were there (just finished a run), why we had to finish in this particular park (we like to switch up where we finish), and if we knew about laws governing public drinking (*crickets*). Salty was pretty sure that another of the cops was encouraging her to shot gun her beer, but instead we broke up the party, and headed down the hill to... no bag car. Sketchy was still trying to pick up the pizza, as apparently the pizza place had lost power and could not make our food! Demoralized, dejected, and hungry (not to mention far too sober), pack slowly made their way to Oak Grove station. People were about to disperse when a car came careening around a corner into the Oak Grove parking lot. It was Sketchy and Sex, with pizza! What was left of pack ate their fill, and maybe there was an on-after or something. I wouldn't know. I went home to get some sleep.
Next trail is the 7th A*nl Lingerie trail! The theme is Victoria's Secrets Angels, so get your sexy lingerie and angel wings ready!
On - this is harder to do than it seems! - on
Yellow Dick Gnome, guest Hash Trash
|In Da Panties Day XI
(4 months ago)
What: In Da Panties Day XI
Where: Bell in Hand Tavern
Who: THE 2nd Cuming, Clit Notes
Pack: Um, lets see if I can remember all this:
Do me something (transplant), Motherload, Plus 2 Coonass, Bottom Wrangler, Shart Of Darkness, Easy as 123, Orgasim Falmon, Shits and Ladders, Dry Hose, Udder Whore, Spank Me May I Have My Mother, Bum Fucking Vagabond, Blowbot, Pat My Fly, Dribbles, Yellow Dick Gnome, Just Mom, Queer and Foaming in my Anus, Can’t Eat Pussy, others I’m forgetting.
Pre-lube: Leaving the office around 5:30, I quickly stopped by the victorias secret in the mall to buy some sequined red panties which i thought would go great with my red dress and cape, though i failed to collect them at the end of the night, and made my way to the start bar.
Feeling slightly out of place in my civvies, I quickly changed into running clothes + panties in a bathroom full of confused muggles, then returned to the bar and continued to confuse more muggles as I was the only one who decided to prelube in panties. Eventually more people showed up and panties were handed out and adorned our nether regions. The hares scampered away and after finishing our beers we followed them.
Chalk talk: Was held at the top of the stairs by government center, though this wasn’t marked, my bad...anyway...we went over the checks we’d be seeing on trial, including the most important one the panty swap!
Looped around the courthouse near government center, including running past an occupied police cruiser which someone - I’m going with Spank Me - could not identify as being occupied by a member of the constabulary. I guess we are only lucky that there wasn’t a panty swap or dick check in front of it. There was a check by an N-way intersection in front (another) court house and we were all standing around until I said “You know, that alley looks suspiciously hashey-like” though no one had scouted it. Shits and Ladders eventually ran up and didn’t return so we followed and called onon as we began our ascent up the backside of beacon hill. Coming to the top of the hill there were marks which lead down, but CEP and I decided to never give up the high ground and agreed that if we reached the sea plane base, we’d gone to far and would turn back (that’s like a 2 year old inside joke). However, instead of a seaplane base we found a song check and got most of the way through a butchered version (you can guess who messed up the verses) Sexual Life of a Camel before pack caught up and we kept going. Trial then meandered down the more touristy streets of Beacon Hill and many people commented on my sparkling hips (that might be a lie), until we reached a panty swap by an outdoor cafe which I traded by sequins for a rather restrictive though. The trick with thongs is just to push everything to one side. Trial then continued through the flat of the hill, then reached the footbridge over storrow and we all stood around and waited for the FRBs to come back from the not at all predictable CB to the BC at the friendly lady’s house on the other side of the street.
Beer Check Front Stoop:
The beer check was on the same front stoop as it was last year, people milled around and drank and discussed various topics from the predictableness of trial to how to achieve general physical fitness. The male hashers also discussed the comfort levels of various panties and pantie design. The thong, once properly aligned was surprisingly comfortable, while the male speedo bottom was painfully contristicing. We convinced a passing important person - you could tell by the general disdain he had for our debauchery and that he was wearing blue tooth ear phones, to take our picture. By we convinced I mean the do me harder yelled “HEY! HEY! PERSON WALKING!” and he took our picture, however he did not take the offered beer. The hares left after hanging out for a while and despite the RAs best intentions, pack might have given them 8 minutes.
That pack gave the hares 8 minutes is a slight technicality; people started scouting in a very lazy fashion after about 8 minutes, but we didn’t find trial until about 15 had passed so it all works out in the end. Trial ran through the gardens, past a wedding photograph, and crossed into the common. Glutenless turned left and followed a very attractive runner across the common before admitting that he was following ass, not marks. Marks were laid in the other direction to a song check in the marble gazebo type thing. We sang “hashers, meet the hashers” then ran off to find trial crossing Boylston street. At the point the inventory of panties were well know and people were yelling out “I want the pink thong” or “give me boys, boys, boys” or “who has america, i want the flag!” as we traded panties in front of some fancy wine bar. A muggle ask what we were doing and after giving a quick ernest response of “panties are hard to put on” answered that we’re a drinking club with a running problem, then ran off to follow pack. Slightly confused from the new construction, I thought the shot check was in front of the strip clubs, but instead it was in a rather fancy alley behind some new condo building. There were more shots than people and had your humble narrator not loved America so much the night before, he would have been more game for drinking them, but given as though half of pack was in the same condition (loving america), the shots were sadly abandoned as we ran through the theater district. There was a check back to an alley through BU/Tufts Medical to a final panty swap near the Wang Theatre. I looked around and said “I’m gonna scout the Silhouette” and no one followed me, but, after cutting through some choice alleys I saw “Have you figured it out yet?” in chalk, then the hares talking to the MC of the evening outside the Boston’s favourite dragshow bar.
(RA’s note: circling with cat walks is amazing)
Knowing what was going to happen later, we decided to get circle out of the way as soon as everybody was in and had a beer. The hares were called into circle and while a lot of people were surprised at where their panties ended up, no one was surprised at where the trial ended up. We told the hares that they should’ve used more flour and chalk and they sang back to us about this great old car that they used to drive. They drank and got out of circle. Next, since we had no virgins or visitors, we called the transplant into circle. She ended up coming to Boston by a long and circuitous route (via circus, crescent shiggy and denmark), but now that she’s here she’ll be pretending to be a smaht kid at some brick building school north of the river. She’s stupid, but she sang us a great song about STDs and dinosaurs, and we welcomed her as one of us. This didn’t actually happen, but it should have, so given the lack of virgins we called in In Da Panties Day virgins and they confessed that while they had never run around the city in panties before, they all had dreamed of it and Spank Me sang them a great number about running ‘round in women’s underwear. FRBs and FBIs were called in - Jack and Vag - and they were accused of sex on trial; DFL (Foamy?) came next (if at all) and we sang him a short song he could understand then kicked him out, but only for a second, as it was on to accusations. Apparently Mr. In My Anus has some problems with seeing things, like speed bumps that are around ankle level and tripped over a couple on Beacon Hill, so he drank for the end of the month. Continuing on with accusations Udder Whore was accused of wearing new shoes, and we, being hashers of science, subjected them to a gravity test - which they failed so she drank (and the shoes actually tasted new!). Accusations continued on to anyone with same shirts or racist attire, and they were made to drink for their crime but were reminded that at least it wasn’t cum. Other accusations followed, but apparently Udder wasn’t the only hasher with new shoes, Easy as 123 was accused of a similar crime, and her shoes also failed the gravity test. The beer was running low so a final call for accusations was put out and Just Mom announced that she would like to accuse her son (the hare, THE 2nd Cuming) of having a birthday! So Just Mom administered the down-down and we sang about instest time in Texas before going into the birthday chant. There were more accusations, and some announcements (see below), but circle was ending and food had arrived so we swang low.
On - In Da Panties! - On
Saturday: There might be a beaver trial; check the facebook group.
Tuesday 7/11: BH3 Mismanagment meeting -> Do you want to help run this shit? Really, you’re an idiot, but please come to the MM meeting to start planning for next year! It’s really fun!
Wednesday 7/12: Hashing Of the Bulls -> Another annual trial in which pack chases the hares (Twat My Mom and Justine Beaver) while being chased by bulls! Start location will be posted soon.
Thrusday 7/13: July Full(ish) Moon/Invihash Pre-lube trial: Hared by Laurance My Labia, Quater Mile and “Myster Co-hare” start is JJ Foleys in DTX, “mystery shots!” will be on trial!
Friday-Sunday: Invihash in Burlington VT:
It’s a campout week in North VT, and probably one of the top 5 New England area anual events.
Boston H3 needs hares for July, August and September. If you want to hare a trial, contact the hare raisers: firstname.lastname@example.org
B3H3TM3.69 -> Ballbuster trust me, September 22-24
Sometime in October: AGM
Sometime in November: Sadie
Sometime in December: Anti-buffet
Sometime in January: Robbie Burns
Sometime in Feburary: Moon Away
Boston H3 Marathon Weekend -> April 13-15
Sometime in May: NURD, NUDE, or whatever they call it.
Around July 4th, IN DA PANTIES DAY XII
(stop reading, drink a beer)