Missed a hash? Catch up on all the trash here...
|Zig Zag Trail Hash Trash
(over 3 years ago)
What: The Zig Zag Hash
Where: Flat Top Johnnies
Hares: Just Jeff, Queer and Foaming
Pack: Um, 6 virgins, 5 visitors, and the following people I remember:
Pappy Van Tinkle, Jolly Green Vagaina, Udder Whore, Anal Disco, Bring Out The Gimp, The Butler Hit It, Blondie Mc Fucksalot, Gone GAYWOL, +2 Coonass, Easy as 123, Krusty the Meet Miser, Goat Throat, Shart of Darkness, No Man on the Moon, CPA, Wikipedophilia, Orgasmn Falmon, Twat My Mom, Sketchy Ho, Spunk in the Trunk, A gaggle of justs, other people I probably had deep, soul affirming conversations which but whom I forget.
Arriving at Flat Top Johnies about an hour early, I stumbled upon the phoenix vistors and had a pleasant conversation with them about how much they loved Boston, and were worried that it was going to be too cold, but the RAs had done their job, and the weather was surprisingly Pheonix-like. I’m sure we talked about other things. As pack began to arrive, I started walking around practicing my financial tact in asking for Hashcash, but apparently failed miserably. My new rule will be to not ask anyone for money until they’ve already had a beer, sorry CPA. The Hares were announced as being gay, but then weren’t, then were announced again, and who knows if they were, but we eventually meandered across a couple of streets to the “Shiggy” car. Introductions were made, royal baby names were suggested and the virgins were terrified.
We should have expected that a trail laid by one of the up and cuming trail heads would feature zig zags, as we ran in a circle around the bar, then in a circle around Kendal square – after telling the guests of the Marriot about why we couldn’t maintain a job in Chicago. We then stumbled upon a very strong shot check and two zig zags full of trail heads, with flame provided. Pack participated in whatever inherbrient they most identified with, then continue to run a zig zag through MIT and across the Longfellow bridge. Our beer-dars were sound red alert, and after the bridge there was allegedy a turkey-eagle split, though the vast majority of pack took the turkey because of the aforementioned beer-dar returns. Unfortunately, the hares were part of the Skunk works and fooled our highly tuned beer-dars and lead us on a pleasant stroll along the banks of the Charles, with tit, dick, and song checks galore. After some false zenning around the west end, and tancit scouting of the trio of beer checks in that area, we crossed back over the Charles and looped around the Musem of Science to beer check at the end of that path thing.
Beer Check #1:
There was beer, there were, and there were zenning bastards who turned back over the Longfellow once they saw pack running and decided the beer had never crossed the river, and a Mangina my Vagainia sighting. “I showed up at a beer check and left, this is what I do.” The sun set over the city and the sky was getting dark as pack continued to trickle in. After about 30 minutes, no one had seen the eagles, though we had been told that eagle trail looped up through gov’t center, and around north station before rejoining in front of the MoS. Slightly concerned, we didn’t know what to do, but the hares had to get going so they left some beers (5) for the assumed number of eagles and left. About 10 minutes later – please note that all measures of time are completely fictional – one lone eagle showed up with glowing shoes and was given a beer. About 5 minutes later, Easy, +2, Goat and Krusty came and and were greated by people running towards them to give them beer. We turned our backs and returned to the BC, only to see the vistors come struggling over the bridge to a beerless beer check. We apologized profusely, then took off to find the hares.
Continuing in their zig-zag tradition, the hares zig-zaged trail through the Cambridge Side Gallaria, then brought trail cruely close to both Courtside and Sunset, only to give us a pair of shot checks in a park and an uphill climb to some revolutionary fort overlooking the city to the second beer.
Beer check castle:
Was in a castle. It was windy and I was told to keep my kilt down because it’s a kilt. Beers were drunk and the hares were gay. We chased them
Trail downhill (ish):
Giving up the high ground is never a good idea, but we did it and ran through Union square. A group hug was honked at, then we missed the light and everyone waved at the traffic. Trail continued through Imman, past a gas station, and eventually to another BN/BC. After quelling a near rebellion – the BC was really an ONIN – we took over some hybrid yoga studio/art gallery/psychotropic theoropy center. Pizzas were secured and circle was started.
Lead by the sole-less Krusty and the Sole-full Bloody, we called the hares in and made them kneel. After forcing them to breath the beautiful, calming oder with which we filled the space, we went around and got comments on trail; the most common of which being that pack was surprised the ballbuster decided to run on a Wednesday. We then sang to/with the hares a rousing rendition of the hare version of “Cause I got high” and I think threw them out of circle. Next in were the FRBs (Blowbot), FBI (Falmon), and DFL (CPA), and we sang to them. At this point there were six very confused people watching this spectical unfold with some sort of terror, so we called the virgins in. I have no idea their names, but they were sponsored by a just, a transplant, shart, blondie and I think CPA. CPA and Disco demented them – they suck at math, one knows what a cow sounds like, and they are all backwoods. We then demonstrated down-downs, and while we do not find them worthy (they never are), we will take them anyway (because we are desperate). Next called in were … visitors? Sure, I’ll go with that. The visitors were called in and elected to show us body parts instead of singing, except for the male visitor who sang us some version of Amazing Hash, I think. We then called in all the rasicts from the past weekend (Twat, Udder, and Wiki) and I’m assuming called us dumb? The hares were called back in for some reason, probably for laying a ballbuster, and were told to use more flour and chalk next time (though actually the marks were fine…). At that point Sketchy and Spunk had arrived with the pizza, and the hare-made pulled pork was getting cold so we swang low. Oh, at some point in time we Old McDonald’d GAYWOL, Luvalamp and Douche, because they are GAYWOL, Luvalamp and Douche. See announcements below.
On – May ballbuster is in the books – On
THIS WEEKEND: NURD – kegs are tapped in less than 24 hours; buy regos online, or trade of cheaper ones.
MONDAY, 5/11: 3rd Anal Taco-versery. Cambridge Common, Cambridge. Ladies bring bago and prepare to rage.
WEDNESDAY 5/13: Party Like You’re a Just Trail – Just Bill and Just Emily will recreate the rage of a Just trail.
SATURDAY 5/16: E4BH3 trail in Glocster, brownbag start at the Glocster Commuter rail, hare is Ass-Stache.
SATURDAY 5/16: CVNT Damnit Jimmy (Part 3) – (aka Vomit and Nutters “final” hash) – info is in the CVNT FB group. Start and End and “crashing” in Putney VT.
WEDNESDAY 5/20: Langerie Hash #3 (or 4?) – Bondage Themed, starting at Club Café.
JULY 10,11,12: INVIHASH – Rego will be up soonish? I have no idea. It’s a Burlington thing.
AUGUST 15-17: GAP – Rego is up (www.413h3.com) - LAST GAP EVER (of 2015)
SEPTEMBER – Probably something
OCTOBER – Probably AGM
OCTOBER – Probably PooF Away
OCTOBER – Probably DC RDR
NOVEMEBER – Probably Saddie
DECEMEBER – Probably Antibuffet
JANUARARY – Proably Furry Hash
FEBURARAY – Porbably Moon Away
MARCH – Probably a hash or two
APRIL 2016: MARATHON
Why are you still reading?
Go get a beer.
And drink it.
Though if you’ve read this far, you should probably get two.
(over 3 years ago)
Hare: Udder Whore
Pre-lube: Globe Bar and Café
Pack: Famine, CPA, Plus 2 Coonass, Goat Throat, 2 male virgins (Brian and Alexis?), PSA, Cum Ear, Bouy’s, Five Inch Penalty, Sex the Final Frontier, Pulp Friction (transplant), Po Po Peep Show, Fellowship of the C*ock Ring, Douche, Double Bag/Just Jeff, others I forgot?
Bag Car: Bend Over Mommy
The Jews of the hash and everyone else who got out of Easter early or made the excellent decision to choose hash family over all else gathered at Globe around 3pm this past Sunday. I was thrilled to discover that Globe has $5 brunch cocktails so your scribe (Orgasm Famine) was happy and tipsy when we trooped out in search of bag car. Thanks to parking being challenging near Copley the walk to bag car might have been longer than some of the legs of trail. Coonass stepped up to RA since the regular suspects were missing. He led us through introductions and explained to pack and the virgins that Udder had elected to subject us to a Cajun trail. We were warned to expect wine on trail, Easter candy, and of course every mark was a check. We ran off and quickly found a song check where we sang a short but enthusiastic version of Jesus can’t go hashing since, really, what other option did we have?
Leg 1- Running 2-3 miles within a square half-mile
From that point on I would describe the first leg of trail as a clusterfuck. I can’t count the number of times we got lost. The wind tunnels of Boston were cold so I tried to keep moving but that really just meant I continuously ran falses. I am pretty sure each mark was at least a block apart, regardless of the size of the block. For some reason our hare seemed to think hashers are willing to run really far in possibly the wrong direction over and over again in search of Cajun marks. Well don’t worry we proved her wrong. Many of us stopped checking all together and waited for a few racist ass-holes to call us onward. Even those of us who checked often gave up on a direction before finding the next mark. Pack slowly circled their way around Copley through many an ally way. At one point the chalk turned black which caused 5 inch to miss a tit check while scouting. I guess he really did not want to see tits because that got us lost for a solid 10 minutes. We eventually made it over to Comm Ave and it was around that time that the walkers either got really bored at the beer check or got worried we were never going to make it because the beer check location was revealed to some of pack and we started running straight there. We finally found beer, walkers, orange food, peeps, and the fearful hare under the overpass between Kenmore and Hynes. It was an Easter miracle that we didn’t lose either of the Virgins.
Leg 2 – Never out of sight of a mark
At the first beer check someone must have put the fear of the Easter Bunny in the hare because the second leg of trail had a mark every 5 feet. I did not hear a single hasher complain about that, which is probably good, because after the first leg of trail pack likely would have torn anyone who complained about having too many marks limb from limb. We ran towards Kenmore, found a GH just past it, and sang about interesting things to do at a ballpark in front of Fenway. From there we wound towards and into the fens. We saw the hare standing with a bag of wine near a war memorial and we all paused to pass around the bago at the wine check as the hare scampered off. Someone made a joke about the blood of Christ having turned white as we drank the white wine. After finishing the wine and giving the hare more time than we probably should have we ran off after her through the fens. We wound out of the fens, back into the fens, and ended up at the big structure near the middle where the moon masquerade ball beer check was.
On-In - Where we hung out in buttsex forest for a time
Due to the wonderful prevalence of marks on the second leg of trail pack beat bag car to the on-in. We hung out mourning the lack of beer and slowly realizing we had arrived at on-in not just another beer check. When Bend Over Mommy arrived we grabbed, bags, beer, and pizza (Shout out to Goat for making pizza happen!) from the car and huddled as close to the back of the structure as possible to try to avoid being visible from the street. Someone declared pizza before circle just in case we ended up getting broken up by the cops. After eating a few pieces of pizza we sang in our shitty hare, she performed her down-down, and led us in a rousing round of el-camino. Five inch sang a verse I had never heard before which I wish I still remembered. Once Udder left circle Coonass requested a few comments on trail. He walked around circle and half-bullied people into sharing their thoughts, which included not enough marks, not enough black chalk, not enough time spent in ally 422, not enough Jesus, and not enough candy. Udder and CPA volunteered as dementresses to help our virgins lose their purity. They both claimed to be good at math but one of them was way too good at it and instantly declared that the square root of 69 is 8.3. Seriously who just knows that? We informed him he was wrong and the square root is really ate something. I want to say both Virgins said they were backwoods but I might be making that up. When someone held a dollar bill up in front of Udders crotch and the virgins were asked what that was one of the virgins responded with something great about a Washington being over a Bush. Think about it. We told him that was a great response but we generally call it all you can eat for under a dollar. Both Virgins made themselves cum to the hash so volunteer sponsors demonstrated down-downs and we sang the virgins their own down-down song. They properly inverted their vessels over their craniums and arose Virgins no more. Just like Jesus! It was sometime around then that a few bike cops arrived on the scene. We all hastily hid our beer and pretended to be a running group that was just stretching. The personal trainer part of me feels the need to point out that most of the attempts to stretch looked rather pathetic. We drink way better than we stretch. Goat offered the cops some pizza, which they declined, but they seemed ok with us. We thought perhaps they had not seen the beer until as they were riding away they told us to hide the beer and finish quickly. Well hashers know how to finish ;) We re-formed circle, called friendly cops an Easter miracle and continued. The transplant was called in to sing us a song of his people, or show us a body part or provide a joke. He went for the triple play as he sang to us about how White house in DC are all assholes and then showed us a bodypart which I believe our RA informed him was also a joke. Can’t say BH3 is inhospitable. There were a couple accusations. Jews were called in for drinking beer during Passover. 5 Inch was called in for missing the tit check and then again for not running far enough down an alley to find the next mark. I admitted that I gave up on that ally with him so I joined him and drank for that. There were more accusations and then some announcements about Marathon. We drank more, swang low, and then went to Ramrod.
On-Afer – Where else could we go from the fens?
We went to Ramrod en masse. Pitchers were purchased and then more pitchers were purchased. It got late for a Sunday. The bartender told me we made his night. The next morning those who were not there asked if we ever made it out of Ramrod because nothing was heard from anyone till late morning since we were all too busy regretting our Sunday night Ramrod decisions to communicate with the world.
Saturday 4/11: PooF H3 Trail in Milton
Sunday 4/12: BH3 Trail
Monday 4/13: RI H3 Trail
Tuesday 4/14: Beaver Marathon Pre-lube 6:30HST
Wednesday 4/15: Taco Marathon pre-lube 6:30HST
Thursday 4/16: Ball-buster Marathon pre-lube 6:30HST
Friday 4/17: C*mbridge beer mile and pub crawl 6:30HST
Saturday 4/18: Disney Princess Marathon Trail!
Sunday 4/19: Boston Moon fat boy 2:30HST
|Wrestle Mainia Hash
(over 3 years ago)
Wrestle Mainia/ The Hash where only Gimp wore a singlet
Hares: Wiki and Clit Notes
Pre-lube: Kelly Square Pub by the airport T stop
On-In: Outside by the river kinda near Wellington
Pack: Gimp, Famine, Blow bot, Ass-Stache, Friar, Cum Ear, Female Virgin, Male Virgin, Douche, Hoover, Butler, Visitor from DC (something about a Stapler?)
Bag Car: Udder Whore
This was a Wiki trail. From start to finish. By that I mean first all of us foolish wankers traveled to a bar near the airport, only to follow Wiki around all the parts of Boston where they dump dead bodies, and then stand around at dusk in the cold singing to our hares about how shitty they were. That being said I (Famine) did have some fun.
We gathered in the local pub to drink in preparation for trail. A brave DC visitor had brought 2 virgins so some of us socialized with them and tried our best not to scare them off before we got started. Our hares departed and we gave them what was likely far too much time as we waited for stragglers and eventually trickled out to the bag car. Butler ran a rather subdued chalk talk with surprisingly well-drawn genetalia. We introduced ourselves, told the virgins what to expect, and described the Wiki lost mark as a ‘trump card’ that negates all else. Butler led a rousing rendition of every day is Wednesday and we ran off in search of marks. Following trail went relatively smoothly until just before the bridge to Chelsea where a WN mark caused pack to mill about, someone to get yelled at by an angry salvage yard guy (or was it a crane operator?) and general mayhem. After an extended search for marks on our side of the bridge and much discussion of weather WN meant the dreaded Wiki Lost or something else I ran off across the bridge and found trail. After I had left someone found a bag of wine since apparently WN meant Wine Near. They must have stood around drinking that for some time because I got stopped by a dick check 2/3rds of the way over the bridge and waited for around 5 minutes while 7 passing cars honked at me before a hasher caught up and freed me. From there trail curved around back towards the river on a side street and down an ally, but a dearth of marks and questionably pointing arrows made for slow going as we kept losing trail. Soon after that we came upon a song check next to a dog park so we sang about some poor dog (rover?) and then there was a tit check in an ally. As I ran out about my 5th false of the day, pack found marks along the river that led to the first beer check!
The walkers had beaten us there and Cum Ear was gleefully searching for sea creatures along the shore line of our scenic coastal drinking spot. We drank our hard earned beers, ate orange food, told stories to terrify the virgins, and remarked on the presence of sunshine. A proper amount of time after the hares ran off we followed them and followed marks / zenned over many grassy and rocky areas in a very up-hill direction until we found a song check where we re-grouped and sang something. We found a confusing set of marks in a driveway with a true trail leading to a false 6 inches away from it and eventually found other marks leading back down the hill. Trail meandered through roads and parking lots, past a parked police man who watched me jaywalk 3 times as I ran out falses, past salvage yards and sketchy trucking areas, to yet another dick check where I didn’t really feel comfortable standing and waiting alone so I ran around and pre-checked until people caught up and freed me. Pack seemed to be losing enthusiasm for running since suddenly a lot of walking seemed to be happening. After running out one particularly long false I heard shouts of Beer Near and eventually found the hares and bag car hanging out in an ally. We drank more, ate more, socialized, gave the hares tons of time to mess with us, and ran on.
The third leg of trail caused the most consternation and wails of anguish within pack. It started out all right with marks and checks near major intersections that we navigated remarkably well, but soon after singing about why Jesus can’t go hashing, in front of a church, on Palm Sunday, things began to go downhill. We got mildly confused near a pizza shop that had the word food written in one color chalk and a questions mark in another color next to it. Fortunately 5 feet away from that there was an arrow-indicating trail (thank you Clit Notes). Then as far as I could tell trail totally disappeared for a while but we ran straight and found a check. We quickly found trail and another check, but that check was the last mark I saw that did not end up being a false for about 20 minutes. All of pack except for Blow-bot, who somehow went the right way, followed the false trail, milled about and searched for marks, got barked at by dogs, and searched a Best Buy parking lot for marks until the male virgin found a mark in a tennis court which we followed across a baseball field to a check where we found Blow-bot napping on some bleachers. Soon after that we realized where trail was going and ran straight to the on-in near the river.
For all that the on-in was outdoors on a day that did not quite get above 40 degrees it was rather pretty and snow free. We ate pizza before circle and then sang in our shitty hares. Comments on trail were somewhat standard but reflected the general shit-show nature of certain sections of trail. Wiki and Clit Notes sang us something I don’t remember. FRB (Blow-bot) and FBI (Famine) were called in to drink for our racist tendencies. DFL (Butler) was asked if he was lonesome tonight. I believe Wiki ended up joining him for cutting off the RA to initiate the song and then messing up the words. Udder was elected as Dementress of the day to de-virginize our 2 virgins. Both Virgins declared themselves backwoods. The male virgin sadly would not help his uncle jack off a horse, and his response to what is the square root of 69 was ‘my mouth’. Their sponsors demonstrated down-downs, we sang them their down down song, they drank, and we decided to take them despite their un-worthiness. Accusations included technology on trail, peeing on trail, auto-hashing, and a whole lot more that I now forget. Once we started getting cold we announced some stuff and swung low.
ON-but there might not be marks-ON
Wednesday 4/1: Mismanagement Meeting 7PM Tasty Burger
Sunday 4/5 at 2:30HST: BH3 Yeaster Trail starting at The Globe near Copley
Saturday 4/11: PooF H3 Trail
Sunday 4/12: BH3 Trail
Monday 4/13: RI H3 Trail
Tuesday 4/14: Beaver Marathon Pre-lube 6:30HST
Wednesday 4/15: Taco Marathon pre-lube 6:30HST
Thursday 4/16: Ball-buster Marathon pre-lube 6:30HST
Friday 4/17: C*mbridge beer mile and pub crawl 6:30HST
Saturday 4/18: Disney Princess Marathon Trail!
Sunday 4/19: Boston Moon fat boy 2:30HST
|An Easy Green Dress Weekend
(over 3 years ago)
What: Seacoast RDR (anyone know how many)?
Where: BKs, Revere
Cum Titty, Friar Fuck, Avalanche, The Butler Hit It, Salty Mud Flaps, Watch me Elmo, Bring Out the Gimp, Takes it in the Rectory, Wikipedophilia, Virgin.
Beers were had by all, and some late arriving members of pack were worried that we would leave without them, but Friar left at some time (lets call it 1) to pre-lay the beer checks, but hadn’t returned until well after 2 – apparently he got lost. This did not bode well for pack, but it did give the Gimpy one at the Butlerly one time to show up. Salty also arrived, and when it was announced that Frair was lost setting the beer check, Avalanche decided that meant it was time for him to buy a couple of pitchers for the hash to tide us over until trail started. Smart man. Eventually Frair returned and an abbreviated circle was held in the parking lot behind Bill Ashe’s Lounge. The marks were all washed away by the rain before chalk talk ended, and Gimp informed us that every time he went to BKs he was propositioned by ladies of the night, though he never said if he decided to contribute to their business ventures. We returned to BKs for another beer while giving the hare a solid 15 minute cranium start.
Leaving BKs trail crossed Revere beach boulevard and got to a check on the beach. Despite YHS yelling that there were two sets of foot prints going right, true trail was called going left, and we all ran down a good quarter mile on solid marks before gimp pealed off to smell out a check back. His hashy sense was only slightly off, as we quickly found a YBF in the surf (no one was actually being f’d, probably because of the weather). Turning around and running back down the beach to the direction which had two sets of foot prints, trail took us to the end of the beach and through a slush-filled round about with very confusing SH3 marks (in which 3 is still false and 4 is OnOn) leading pack astray. Meandering through a quiet beach-side community pack made it’s way towards the gazebo where STD had a gun pulled on him (I think)? As we were approaching, a muggle was on her porch, talking on the phone and said “Hold on, a group of men in green dresses just ran by.”
Irish Car-Bomb check
[Note, since the Irish are no longer detonating car-bombs, can we come up with a new name for this drink? Maybe a Bagdad Blaster, Mossel Memory Eraser, Alepo Alibie or Demascus Detonator?]
As pack arrived at the gazebo, CT and Friar had Irish Car Bombs lined up for us, which we all quickly downed. By we I mean the runners, Gimp, Wiki, Virgin, and Rectory. The rest of pack, the walkers, were relatively slow in showing up; we had finished our car bombs, finished the left over Guniesses, and were waiting for the hares to be gay when we saw a sole Avalanche approach the check, to be followed a few minutes later by Salty and Butler. When the walkers finally arrived, the hares were gay and more car bombs were had by all.
From the beer check trail ran along the sea wall to an intersection at the bottom of a hill. For no apparent reason, Rectory and the virgin took of scouting along the beach while all the other hashers stared at the hill with hatred and started our accent. We were greeted by green marks in snow to justify our decision and slowly made our way up to the crest, where marks disappeared. Gimp and Elmo ran straight, but pack turned around to look for trail from the last mark, which was about two blocks back. We ran all around the hill top, checking every intersection – and finding a previously un-scouted check – though not finding trail, and we all pretty much dispersed. I reluctantly followed where Gimp had gone, as it had been about 15 minutes and he hadn’t returned, and saw an almost washed away pack mark leading down the stairs a quarter mile from the last mark, but no other marks. I doubled back to collect pack and we had a pow-wow near the Suffolk Downs station to decided “which beer check we should zen to.” As we were about to turn towards the marshes we luckily saw a line of marks in the snow leading away from the marshes and followed trail, through a YBF (that we approach from the wrong side) and eventually saw bag car, the hares, gimp and elmo, hanging out by the abandoned stop and shop for the beer check.
Beer Check Smithwicks-
Were had by all. There were also warm towels. The hares left quickly after pack arrived.
I have no idea. I took off from the beer check thinking “I know where I am, I’ll just zen back to the bar.” Funny story, I didn’t know where I was so I ended up getting lost and pulling out my phone to get directions to the bar. I read the map, decided which way to go and ran on. A few minutes later, no bar in sight, I pulled out my phone again and saw that I had run down the wrong hill, and I turned around, ran back up the hill, the back down and finally arrived at the bar, DFL.
(pre-circle pack had a few beers and changed into dry clothes)
[well, some people did]
The hares were called into circle and after we informed them that they should have used more flour and chalk, they sang to us the Seacoast song. Next, well, my memory gets kinda fuzzy during circle, but lets say that FRBs and FBIs were called in, and then zenning DFLs. Before we started accusations, we called in the virgin, and Avalanche demonstrated a down-down. Salty demonted her – reverse alphabetical non-sequenally. When then opened the circle to accusations, and CT was called in as a proxy for Meta who was running a race, so all other raciists were called in. At some point we sang the Engineer song, the muggles at the bar bought us two pitches, and debauchery ensued. Anyway, eventually pots were down, cranium covers we off and we swang low. The buffet was then opened. By buffet I mean the 3 trays of boiled food the Frair brought – a lot of cabbage, some potatoes and some beef; but mostly cabbage and potatoes. There was way too much food for the hash, so we opened the buffet to the locals. Eventually pack changed out of our prideful green dresses and made our way into the night.
What: A Very Easy St. Patricks Day Trail
Where: Kinsale, Government Center
Hares: Easy as 123, Easy to Please
(Bag car – brokeback baby)
Um, I’m sure I’ll forget some…
+2 Coonass, Yellow Dick Gnome, Where’s My Vaganina (visitor from Texas), Clit Notes, Dry Hose, Virgin, Orgasm Falmon, Goat Throat, Blowbot, No Man, CEP, Anal Disco, The Butler Hit It, Wikipedophilia, Bring Out the Gimp, Bloody Slip Inside, Blonde McFucks A lot, GAYWOL, E=IMaDouche, Udder Whore, Bum Fucking Vagabond, others?
Disco and I were FRB to the start and were quickly joined by Dry Hose and Virgin Assad. As we were sitting, minding our beers, a girl in a Karlsberg shirt asked us if we wanted free beer. We just kind of looked at her blankly and gladly accepted the 8 shots of Karlsberg she gave us. We gave her the hash website, and maybe we’ll see her again? Pack slowly began to trickle in and by 3pm, we had effectively taken over the back bar, and the hares, after stretching, were gay.
Circle was held by the stairs to the courthouse (or whatever, that’s what I’m calling it) and after fearlessly scouting across the street (there were no marks) trail was called down Charles street to a check near Beacon hill. Fearing that trail would lead up hill (but it didn’t) I half-heartedly scouted down by the (real) court house, and found trail turning into an alley (dry hose actually found it) before turning down hill again and heading towards the back of north station, through a song check and a “New Job Check” for OF. Trail came out by Haymarket, and I scouted the locks (there were no marks) then turned around a caught up with pack at a dog-shit-covered shot check in the glitter park in the north end. (Called the glitter park because of the glitter beer check during Hot Mess II). After sipping daintily on a handle of Baileys trail went up hill to a Turkey/Eagle by the cemetery on the top of hill, knowing instantly that the eagle would involve fence-jumping, I took off through the graves, braved a spikey wall, and after accidentally flashing some muggles (who I think were teenagers drinking in the park), jumped off the wall and ran to the hares in the distance at the beer check.
Beer check homebrew-
The beer check was at the end of the park/pier area past the play ground where the furries BCed. It was a beautiful day on the water – clear sky and a warm sea breeze to refresh us as we drank good beer. One of those statement is true, the others are lies. After having much discussions about topic both pithy and profound – mainly about all the dog shit on trial – the hares were gay and since pack was not much enamored of hypothermia, we decided to chase them perhaps before giving them the full 15 minute cranium start.
In a surprising turn for a “Saint patricks day trail” trail turned into a tour of the North End. In fact, a local tour guide – the ones who dress in cololnial garb – recorded our rendition of “Free Beer” sung in front of the old north church – “Paul can’t go hashing because he has to ride to Lexington” (make it work!), then continued through the north end and to the green away, where pack searched in every direction, except back into the north end. Eventually checking left, we found trail going through one of many remaining ice-banks (it’s not snow any more), then out to Christopher Columbus (that famous Irishman) park. After laying a check, one of the hares squelled and ran away on a false, letting her co-hare calmly lay marks to the beer check down at the end of long warf.
Beer check gulf stream:
The gulf stream was no where near close enough to sure to warm the beer check, but the genny cream (and trail heads, it was 4:20), were a good substitute. Goat demurred from diving into the harbor – apparently he’s no fan of hypothermia, and with the snow and wind picking up, we chased after the hares after definetly not giving them 15 minutes.
Did not go to Sligo. Instead it ran back down the worf, across the green away and into the warren of streets that is the finical district. Marks were quiet hard to see, but we managed, and after randomly running into bag car, found trail going by the Fiduciary trust building, which had a pair of tit and dick checks. It was only as I was looking for trail, after solving the dick check for the harriettes, did I notice that both checks were well within view of the security cameras. Hopefully we made a sad, lonely, security guard a little happier. From there trail continued through down-town crossing to an impromptu song check/not a hare snare. After singing an aborted Yogi (since we were cold and didn’t know it was really a hare snare), trail continued through the common. With deference to the main tourist attraction of our fare city, the hares decided not to desecrate the pathways of the common with marks, but pack eventually found their way through and ended up in the basement of Sweat Cheaks.
After much beer was drunk, circle was started and the hares were called in to account for their sins. We instructed them to use more flour and chalk, then asked them to sing to us, or show us their tits. After showing us their amazing tits, they handed out lyrics to a new song and we all sang “Drink the Beer” (to some Disney tune). FRBs, FBIs, and DFLs were called in and circle began to get ragey. After they were mocked for being speed racers, they drank and were thrown out of circle, next virgins were called in. After stoping Dry Hose from humping his virgin (apparently “fire brother” means something else down south),BFV and Gnomey demented him. The high light of the dementing was that he got soooooo close to guessing the square root of -69…”I, eight…um 7 maybe?” SOOO CLOSE! It’s 8.some(i)! Dry Hose showed him how do a down-down, and even though he isn’t worthy, we’ll take him anyway. Before accusations, visitors were called in – “Where’s my vagainia” from Dallas, and, after flashing us, she told us what to do in Texas when you can’t find a c*nt. After that anyone who was wearing a Philly Green Dress scarf was called in; they were joined by “one happy coat” and then “one kilt” and “one hare” and “one ex-gm” so with majority of the pack now in circle, I don’t think it really mattered what song we were song – maybe we were stupid? Following that accusation, all hashers who had been hashing 10 or more years were called in, this being Kursty’s 10 year annalverisy. Easy (to please) has been hashing basically since she was in uterio, and there was some other old faht who’d been hashing longer than some hashers have been alive. They all need to get a life. Gnome then called YHS for an honorary down-down; in which she ran through a dick check but I called out “hey gnome” and, when she turned, solved it for her. Speaking of stories, CEP also was called for an honorary down-down for going home last night with an amazon of a german au perie and her mother/employer. Apparently they live in Belmount and “Arlington is on the way….” Sweat test failures were called in – the Philly crew plus shart, but I’m not sure what we sang them. Announcments happened, I might list them below if I think they are important; with the beer running low and the nachos getting cold, cranium covers came off, vessels went down and we swang low.
On – [something witty] – On
TODAY TODAY TODAY – Is (probably) the last day to rego for marathon to be guaranteed an amazing giveaway – we’ll try our best after this, but you might end up with a pile of junk the boston hab can’t sell.
Saturday 3/21: E4BH3 1st Anal Beaver Plunge, in Bartlet NH. Check out Spunks FB event, or maybe the E4B Website.
Saturday 3/21: Eaasy to Please Going Away Ballbuster – Starting somewhere in the city. There will be shiggy shiggy shiggy and booze.
Sunday 3/22: Cookie Monster hash – Cookie Monster is coming out of hypernation and will hare a trail. Cookie Monster is also known as Shart, and I think she’s looking for a bar car. She promises cookies on trail, talk to Butler for specials.
Monday (either 23 or 30, I forget): Is the next mismanagement meeting, at Tasty Burger. We’ll talk about marathon planning and how beautiful the GMs are.
Saturday 3/28: Poof, I think. I think they need a hare.
Sunday 3/29: Wrestle Mania XXXIV trail, in Eastie – urban shiggy, hared by Clit Notes and Wikipedophilia.
Saturday 4/10: Start off “Week of debauchery” with Poof in the Bluehills.
[The rest of marathon week schedule will be out soon]
May 8-10: NURD NURD NURD NURD NURD
July 10-12: Invihash (I think)
August: LAST GAP (of the year)
|Teenage Mutant Power Hash!
(over 3 years ago)
Teenage Mutant Power Hash!
Hares: Sex the Final Frontier, Dry Hose
Prelube: Washington Square Tavern
On-in: The Last Drop
Pack: Wiki, Bend Over Mommy, Po Po Peep Show, Fellowship of the Cock Ring, Easy to Please, Easy as 123, Black C*ck Down, Vaginacologist, Orgasm Famine, 5 inch penalty, Vagibond, Cum Ear, Just Jeff, Just Dave? Virgin from Switzerland? Port Hole, everyone else I forget.
Bag Car: The lovely Anal Disco
As tends to happen when the hash comes to Brookline hashers entered Washington Square Tavern, took one look around, and said “huh, am I in the right place? This looks a bit too nice for us”. That was especially true this time because roughly half of pack made some level of effort to look like 90’s super heroes. Good job everyone who put in more effort than I did. (zero) I now feel that I have fulfilled my quota of seeing men running around with underwear over running rights for the month. There was a pre-trail brunch contingent who prepared for trail with Boody Mary’s and beermosas while the hares went out to “scout”. Eventually the rest of pack joined us, the hares left for real, and we milled about blocking the door to the bar until Bend Over Mommy and Disco encouraged us to find bag car.
We deposited our bags in disco wagon. Gotta love a car that can be topless. Chalk talk took place in front of Athens Bakery to the disgruntled confusion of my fellow Brookline residents. We introduced ourselves and told each other our favorite 90’s cartoon and who we would bang from it. Marks we might see on trail were drawn out in chalk even though roughly half of trail was marked in flour. Then in an uncommon burst of energy, fueled by the fact that we could actually see the sun for the first time in weeks, we ran off. Trail immediately led across 4 lanes of traffic and 2 train tracks. Good thing Butler was not with us. There was an odd mark that was maybe supposed to be an arrow that had us a bit confused and worried about what was in store for us. (these worries were valid) As we milled around the intersection Sailor Moon appeared! At least think that is who Easy to Please was dressed as? It was a great costume. That leg of trail can be characterized by the old hashing mantra: When in doubt go uphill. We followed trail up the back / side of summit hill, found a hatorade shot check on a snowy path, asked various Brookline residents who were out shoveling if they had seen 2 young men dressed like superhero’s running by, got very lost when 4 marks led down about 40 stairs with no YBF in sight, and eventually found our way up to the first beer check in Summit Ave Park. We admired the view, enjoyed the beer, which included Magic Hat and trader joe’s brand canned offerings, ate the orange food, and played on the playground. Port Hole blew us plenty of bubbles with her superhero bubble gun and then the first snowball fight of the day broke out. Eventually, I ran off fleeing further snow missals in search of marks.
The second part of trail was marked almost entirely in rust colored chalk so it’s a good thing we told the visitors and virgin to just follow the rest of us drunken wankers. We ran down Summit Ave towards Comm Ave, apparently I missed a dick check laid in the street as I tried to navigate a sidewalk. That was about the last time I chose the sidewalk over the street for the day. We ran through a parking lot and down Comm Ave to the intersection by Harry’s where we crossed 6 lanes of traffic and 2 train tracks. As we ran the next stretch of trail we found an SC and dutifully searched for shots before realizing the hares mixed up shot check and Song check so we sang about our girl the vegetable and ran off to get briefly lost around Brighton high school before we found a path up to a park and hares sitting with beer! BC #2 was really just one giant snowball fight where I tried in vain to peacefully build a mini snowman and balance it on my cranium but got pelted with snow instead. Thank you Blackie. Eventually I downed my beer and fled the scene of the snowball fight to search for trail once more.
The third leg of trail was punctuated by frequent hatorade checks, (yes for real this time) but they didn’t really taste like there was actual booze in them. Pack felt very well hydrated as we navigated the neighborhood streets of Brighton and ran past a house where 5 inch proclaimed he had lost his virginity. There was a park where we followed a narrow track of packed down snow and attempts to deviate from said path led to falling down (Bouy’s) I think there was a song check and a tit check in there somewhere. There must have been a dick check as well because I do remember seeing a dick. Somewhere in there I figured out we were likely ending at the Last Drop in Oak Square so I began disregarding marks and running straight down Washington Street to the bar. I was right! When I got there Disco handed me her keys (bold move), I gathered pack on their way in, found her car, climbed over/through a snow bank to get to it, and we were rewarded for bringing in our possessions with pitchers of beer!
Warning: I may have been a bit drunk for circle. Someone evil bought me a fireball shot and I decided to beer bitch so I kept drinking the beer as I passed out it out to everyone else. Don't trust my account. (if you ever do)
We sang in our hares, yelled at them for all the shit they did on trail, they drank away their sins, and we began accusing people of things including: wearing costumes, not wearing costumes, FRB, FBI, DFL, backsliders, there must have been more but I forget. The virgin was called into circle and Bend Over Mommy acted as dementress. Someone asked what kind of ski slope he was but he didn’t seem to understand so pack declared him back woods. I am not sure how he felt about all you can eat for under a dollar. 5 inch asked him if he would press his sisters button to get her to stop flirting with her brother. He definitely would. His sponsor, Just Dave?, demonstrated a down-down, which he remembered how to do even though the only hashes he attended were last summer. The Virgin performed his own down-down and pack grudgingly accepted him. There might have been more that happened in circle. I don’t remember any of it so it must not have been that important. We swang low. I messed up all the hand motions. We ate pizza!
On-Sunshine and slush puddles-On
Announcements shamelessly stolen from the moon trash:
2/27-3/1: Burlington Mardi Gras – More cold, less snow. Probably some glitter.
3/1: BH3 Trail
3/7: Ivy League inter-hash in Boston, details to cum
3/15: Last day to sign up for marathon to be garunteed an amazing give-away
4/14-4/20: BH3 Marathon Week.
4/18: BH3 Marathon Main event – sign up bostonhash.com … There are still scholarships available!
5/15-17: NURD NURD NURD NURD NURD. You know it, you love it. Sign up for that shit.