Missed a hash? Catch up on all the trash here...
| Friar F*cks 20th An*lversery Hash | Trash from afar - NURD X | HASH TRASH: The "It's not gay when it's in a three-way" hash | Trail trash - M*rathon Viking Taco Trail | Trail trash - M*rathon Moon Prelube (or why we had to call AAA) |
|Friar F*cks 20th An*lversery Hash
(over 4 years ago)
What: Frair’s 20th An*lversery Hash
Where: Riverside T-Stop
Hare: Friar F*ck
Bag Car: Goat Throat
Wikipedophilia, Easy as 1,2,3, Bum fucking Vagabond, Just Joel, Just Mohammad, Just Someelse, Just Paul, The Fat One, Reverend Blow-hole, Extra Terrestical, Beat By A Girl, E=I’m a Douche, Pop Cum Ear I’m Infected, Bend Over Mommy, Luva Lamp, 5 inch Penatly
Chalk talk: Was simple. We were told the rules of a friar hash – if you see him lumbering along, snare him at your own risk, or just stop and wait a bit.
Trail Loop 1: Starting out of the parking lot, trail ascended the embankment up to a road, then hit a check and turned right past the Indego Hotel. With arrow-less marks (just lines), trail was marked ambiguously as either straight into Lower Falls, or down the on ramp to 128. After vigorously scouting the bridge over the highway, trail turned right again and ran down a semi-unused ramp to recreation road, through a parking lot then into some quasi-shiggy. Crossing a rather lovely little bridge, trail hit a check at the base of an embankment, and did not go straight up the hill to the rail road tracks. Instead, trail paralleled the hill on a gradual rise to a very random brigde under the tracks where the hash was rewarded with COLD beer, chips and orange food dip.
BC #1: Everyone was impressed by this random tunnel that no one knew existed and we all agreed was a sctechy as fuck, and we all loved it. Pack filtered in in bits, with all the fine and proper ladies – not wanting to break a sweat – taking a pleasant stroll along trail. After friar had been gone a while, we decided it was time to leave, and left.
Trail second loop:
Runnning downhill from the beer check (always a bad idea), pack turned and ran under a bridge then half way up a hill before realizing there were no marks. Trail had actually continued to run downhill through a DPW area, then across an actively falling apart bridge, that, luckily, held everyone up. Running past a waste plant – only the most pleasant of smells on this hash – trail scaled an embankment and crossed a set of active commuter rail tracks. By crossed I mean didn’t actually cross at all, but ran along them before turning back into the same parking lot and pleseant bridge that the first half of trail had run over. However, since the FRBs zenned directly across the tracks, found a check, then ran no-no (trail backwards) to the loop on the rail road, everyone was totally lost. Apparently one of the justs scouted down the original trail and either knew what he was doing, or got lucky. Either way, some people scouted the rail road tracks back and forth across 128, into a golf course, and up gas line to the Fidelity Investment parking lot, without finding any marks of sign of trail. Eventually, though, everyone made it to the shot check which was a the base of a swiftly flowing culvert behind the riverside train yard.
Shot check by the water: Was, cool, crisp, and tasted like warm apple pie.
Trail from the shot check: Was short and predictable. We ran up an embankment, across an abandoned rail bridge to the island in the middle of 128. OnIn was marked on the other side, but fuck all that noise, we moved it back to the point of the island because it’s a much more bad-ass location.
OnIn: Friar had provided us with English tea-sandwiches, which, with the exception of the onion-and-cheese, were not that bad. There was beer and water and conversation. After a while we started thinking about starting circle, when we realized that Easy and Vagabond were nowhere to be found. We definitely rememebered seeing them at the shot check, but no one had seen them since. We were slightly concerned – thinking that maybe they didn’t know that circle had moved since we didn’t do anything helpful like mark it. Goat went looking for them, and eventually returned with two well lubricated harriets. They had stayed at the shot check, finished the apple-pie vodka and then walked trail to the original circle. Not seeing any sign of pack, Goat found them leaning against his car, and retrieved them for us.
We called in Friar for laying a shitty trail, and when asked to sing a sung he sung an old Boston song set to the tune of “Charlie and the MBTA.” Surprisingly enough I was e-mailed the lyrics to this song by an old Boston hasher (Swampy) who I met at Pittsburg AGM last year. Friar had his own verse about poision ivy, which, by the way my legs are burning, I’m assuming I ran through last night, and we sung some others. The full lyrics are attached below. Twat then told a story about Friars virgin trail, as told by one of the hashers who was there.
“Recreation road was used as a gay cruising area, so when a random guy in jeans, boots, and a long sleeve shirt showed up and started walking in circles near us, we thought he was cruising, but, instead, it was “Virgin Austin” soon to be “Just Austin” then to be “Numb Nuts” and finally to be “Friar Fuck””
Backsliders – the fat one – were called in, and visitors – Revered Blow Hole – were also made to do down-downs. Blow Hole sang us a great song that NH3 had written about BH3, but I forgot it…
There were accusations – though not many – and it was getting dark.
On-After was at some dive in Wayland, though I wasn’t able to go. I’m assuming everyone ate food without onions, drank non-Budwiser, and generally had a bonding moment returning with better friends than they went with.
On – Here’s to 20 more years of Frair Fuck – On
Cumbridge H3: Real trail (dance party pre-lube), Friday starting a 6HST at Miricle of Science.
Boston H3: Drinking by Charles – July 4th all afternoon and until the Fireworks. Normal spot in front of the Hyatt. Beer. Maybe trail.
NH3: Swimmer Hash, July 13th – Look them up on FB
Burlington: Invihash July 11,12,13 – Sign up.
413 H3: GAP, August 15,16,17, Sing up.
|Trash from afar - NURD X
(over 4 years ago)
What: NURD trail
Where: Somewhere hot
Who: Read the rego list. If you are mentioned below just say that the scribe was drunk and made everything up.
The buses arrived (2 bus this year, and everyone can agree that the other bus sucked), at a random bar in downtown Saratoga and we all filed out and, after complaining about the sun, stumbled into the bar and were presented with 3 glorious beer choices; I forget what they were but I tried them all and they were all delicious. We milled about for a while, critiquing and comparing dresses and gowns. Vomit decided that dresses were for whores and as a classy lady, he would parade around in a pink thong, while Osama decided that underwear was for losers. A few groups of muggles stared as they passed the bar, and I’m pretty sure that the cooks as the restaurant across the parking lot stared at us the entire time. A few of the more experienced hashers went off in waves and returned with delicious culinary confections, but most of us stayed at the bar where the beer was flowing cold and free.
The hares (those assholes) decided that the only start they would need would be the time it took us to do introdcutions. This was an accurate assumption as chalk talk lasted long enough to go in and get another beer while waiting to be introduced. After we met everyone we took off running in search of beer.
Trail Red Gown:
About 3/4th of pack thought that the T/E split mark in chalk talk was an actual T/E split and ran straight up the driveway to nothing. The rest of us actually followed marks that went through a parking garage than into a pretty park to a song check. IEC was standing there wait for us, with a false already marked and his pack mark going off to the left. However, we introduced the muggles to the hashers, meet the hashers, before following IEC. Well, some of us did, others ran straight. Trail went through a fountain – that no one ran through, whatever, weak sauce, and up a hill to a tit check. Harriet after harriet passed us by until Barbie finally let us go (thanks Barbie!). We ran along a ridge before dipping down to a pool, around a pond and back up some stairs to an actual T/E split. The eagles ran towards a grave yard, which itself contained a song check. We sang a ditty to our good friend (in absentia) Nercophiliac Jack and then scouted out in both directions, the two trails eventually merged and we came out infront of a funeral home to a hug check. From there trail went right through some parking lots and it started looking like we were heading back towards town. As the hares had promised there were a good amount of checks, and trail was pretty well marked, but every check we found had already been scouted and marked by IEC (whom none of us had seen since the very first song check). We merged back in with the Turkeys and fund the beer not on the top of the parking garage but on the 3rd floor. There was beer, there was water, and there was shade.
Beer check Red Cocktail dress:
It was really hot and my gown was not cut for r*nning, so I mainly drank water (coors light) and rested. In a fascinating conversation with the Turkeys I found out that IEC had not only run and marked all of eagle trail, but he also then went back and ran Turkey so that he could get all the tit checks to himself. That man is a hashing genious. After we had been there a good long while, the hares left and told us that trail started down an alley back into town.
Trail red sun dress:
Decending from the beer check and running through a pretty little alley we emerged onto what I’ll call the main street in town and ran down in for a while. Some people waited for traffic lights; other people didn’t. It’s like wildabeasts crossing the Limpopo; the crockadiles can’t eat us all! Trail eventually turned up hill (surprise!) and meandered through a friendly neighborhood of kids, families, friendly dogs and apparently hashers laying in the middle of the road? Trail headed towards what I thought might be shiggy, but was really just the enterance to a college/prep school/whatever. It took me a while to figure out what I was running through, but the scenery was nice enough. Eventually at the far end of a parking lot, between two front end loaders and a construction trailer, beer car could be spotted, but there was no jubiliant yelling of the sweat nectar about the curse through our vanes since the bane of all hashers and underage undergrads had just rolled up in their hybrid SUVs – Skidmore college campus security.
Beer check causal red dress:
There was beer, but no water, so the hash started putting ice down each other’s clothes to cool them down, or to stimulate them, it’s hard to tell the difference. Eventually the campus rent-a-cops were called off to curtail some real underage drinking, and the beer check was able to commence in force.
Trail red safari dress:
The pack, seeing that the hares had been away for a while, and that prenenial FRBs Counterfit and IEC had started walking out in the direction the hares went, decided that meant it was time for pack away. In reality it meant that it was time for Counterfit and IEC to play swords, so we let them have it while we scouted trail. In a surprising turn for some light shiggy, trail wound through a forest and past a watertower, where Mudslut set us free from a tit check. A few hundred yards later, there was another one, but she and No Man ran off for a quickie while pack was made to wait for, well, I don’t know her name; she’s one of the awsume halve-miners who put this shit together. I think she RA’d circle Friday? Anyway, she has great tits, and let us go! Trail then wound back down a hill along the power lines to a check which was scouted false right by CEP, and while there was some very promising shiggy straight, trail actually bent back up the hill and through the parking lots towards the Skidmore dorms. There were muggles about, trying to figure out why a hundred people in red dresses were running past. When we told them we were running for beer some icey cold refreshment was offered to us, but we kept running. Up another hill and there was the hallowed mark of ON IN and true trail pointing across a set of sports fields were two buses waiting to take us back to the camp. Skinny dipping was promised so we sprinted the last leg and all piled on the first bus (first bus back is always the best bus back!).
Hymen hero is good at two things, peeing and rapping. He rapped about bath salts the entire bus ride home.
WHOREDOCK happened, and showers were cheered.
[Note: This is normally the part of trash that contains a write up on circle, but as circle was a 3 hour affair that didn’t start until sometime after we got back, the YHS (your humble scribe) will instead relate another tail…]
Sitting around the fire, after having a wonderful nap and delicious food, I overheard people talking about a “new challenge.” Being as one who needs a challenge (and I didn’t find any pet stores on trail), I perked up and paid attention. Apparently Bleeps and 2nd were talking about doing something called a Nautical mile, or something? Basically, it’s a beer mile, but swum around WHOREDOCK. I figure I’ll check it out. Once on the dock, it turns out it was 2nd, Bleeps and someone else who were doing it, while all numbered Poo Flingers were called to through mud at the swimmers. I had nothing better to do and was beginning to get dangerously sober, so I decided to remove my gown, keep my cape, and hopefully not eat a live fish. Once we were all assembled on WHOREDOCK, we just started drinking our first beer, then jumped in. The water wasn’t very cold (or the beer was working its magic already) and after a leisurely lap, a second beer was drunk. I must say that I felt great in water, but I got gaggy/whosey everytime I climbed up that later. When the beer ran dry, more beer was called for and, wouldn’t you know, they were in the process of changing out the coors light keg, so we were drinking some good dark beer. Luckily my beard has amazing abosurbing capacity, so beers 3 and 4 went down and when the laps were completed, I stumbled off of WHOREDOCK a winner, then crawled into a bunny suit where I would remain.
Notes: The other guy came in first, I (Wiki), second, Bleeps 3rd, and 2nd – the “swimmer” and originator of this event – last.
Apparently Udderwhore and Anal Disco (*clap*clap**clapclapclap*) were taking bets. Uderwhore - who I thought was my friend – bet against me, so she had to have 6 shots.
Happened. It was led by Piggy and last 3 hours. Hares drink, hosts drank, FRBs drank, 2nd and IEC challenged each other to who could sit on the ice longer, everyone who did the nautical mile drank, and when one furry bunny drank, all furry bunnies drank. Those onies are hard to get in and out of quickly. I don’t know how the furries do it. Eventually, with no end in sight 2nd and (someone else) just started singing swing low to force an end to circle. The ice had turned to mud anyway, and there was a super-sketchy (ie empty) dance floor, and more beer.
Anal Disco will strip if you chant her name for 5 minutes.
Happened, but never left the fire.
I’m sure other things happened, but my memory is as fuzzy as my bunny suit.
On – NURD – On
Burlington INVIHASH – Jully 10, 11, 12, Brewster camp ground, rego up soon?
GAP – August
Antibuffet – December
NURD – Next May
|HASH TRASH: The "It's not gay when it's in a three-way" hash
(over 4 years ago)
What: The "It's not gay when it's in a three-way" hash
When: Wednesday (every day is Wednesday!), May 7
Hares: Can't Douche Pussy
Bag car: Extra Terresticle
Who came: Virgin Heather, Anal Disco, Drunk'N Drag'In, Bring Out the Gimp, Oink Oink Ohhhhh, Cum Ear, Pappy Van Tinkle, Vagibond, Luvalamp, Conan McGlitterpussy (or something like that - Blow Cone was easier to remember), Clit Notes, Necrophiliac Jack, Giggles, Spunk, Schindlers Fist, Blowbot, Furry Thing, Passion of the Dumbass, Sketchy Ho, Maple Queef, No Man on the Moon, Dribbles, Blubber Fucker, Beat By a Girl, Wikipedophilia, a bunch of Justs, and a bunch of people who showed up at circle (Mangia, CPA, Wonka, Buttler), and anyone else who Wiki forgot
Part 1: But where are the shots?, or, the dangers of zenning
Trail began at TITS in Porter, where the bartender had prior knowledge of hashing and even said something about the "rabbits." Pretty good, eh?
Circle was unremarkable except that a new check was introduced - the "heli dick" check. Yeah, it's exactly what it sounds like. (Not mentioned at circle, but found on trail, was the even rarer "heli boobs" check - for the burlesque dancers among the harriettes, apparently).
We ventured out of TITS and down a street. I don't know the name, but it was definitely a street. We sang a delightful song affirming that you bet your ass we're happy (doo do do doo de do de do). There was a heli dick check and a heli boob check in a highly trafficked tunnel, which was... interesting. (Fun fact: I was standing at the top of the stairs to the tunnel while Wiki scouted. Suddenly he started to bobble around erratically - I could only see him from the waist up. It wasn't until I got down the stairs that I saw the heli dick check and realized what those stairs had spared me from - er, denied me of seeing.)
Eventually, like magic (or divine intervention), we ended up at Harvard Divinity School. Naturally the trail took us between some of the buildings. At one point, I was scouting when on-on was called, so I zenned in the direction pack had gone and found marks. Great! Pack took a strangely long time to catch up but, like the r*cist I am, I took off without them.
Eventually, Wiki and Gimp found me in Harvard Yard (shout-out to the hares, who laid a very interesting trail here with marks pointing in every direction with a note to trust only the true trail marks). It was at that point that I found out, to my chagrin, that I had missed a rainbow Haterade shot check.
After that realization, I was particularly motivated to find the beer check so I could "catch up" to the rest of pack. Fortunately for me, after a little jaunt through Harvard Square, the beer check and orange food was found.
Part 2: Shit gets sloppy
Special shout-out to Luv-a-lamp here, who informed me at the beer check that he ended up finishing much of the Haterade because no one else was drinking it. It was readily apparent that he was not lying. Sure enough, he had had a truly disgusting hash crash. Like, a skinned knee and shoulder, but the kind of skinned knee where there was actually no skin left on the knee. I'm going to stop describing it now because just thinking about it is making me kinda nauseated.
After beers, orange food and cigarettes were consumed, we left the beer check. Trail continued pretty much the way trail always continues. There were some marks, there were some checks, we sang some songs. There was ANOTHER shot check - but this one had only four bottles of one of those sweet sugary drinks. Nothing much stands out to me about this part of trail except that I got to pet a really adorable golden retriever.
Part 3-way (see what I did there?)
Circle was at a never-before-used location... Paddy's Lunch! CPA, Buttler, Mangia, and Wonka all showed up. The beer was plentiful and the company was - well, adequate, as always.
We devirginized the virgin Heather (Goat made her come without even being at the hash that night, and her impression of a goat orgasm was... well, it was something). People drank for:
* Wiki drank out of his "new" shoes (which he already drank out of at the Seacoast an*lversary, but at the hash we don't get hung up on technicalities)
* missing the first shot check (me and Gimp) or leaving it early (Wiki)
* having had a threesome
* having had an orgy
* other things? Circle lasted a long time but I can't think of any other things that were out of the ordinary. Same shirts, kilts, etc.
So that was it! It was a lovely trail. We have confirmed that CEP and Doucheland are actually different people - or one was a very convincing hologram. And if you missed trail, you're a dummy.
Trail length (by my Garmin - I probably ran a little more than most): 5.11 miles
- NURD this weekend - if you'd like a discounted rego, please contact Bum Fucking Vagibond
- 5/14: BH3 trail!
- 5/15: Moon trail!
- 5/19: Taco trail!
- 5/20: my birthday!
- 5/21: BH3 trail again!
Your faithful scribe,
|Trail trash - M*rathon Viking Taco Trail
(over 4 years ago)
What: Taco Vikings
Where: Sunset Cantena, Comm Ave, Boston [See I can get it right!]
Who: Iggnorance is Piss, No Man on the Moon
Sack Car: Peirce My Sourass.
Jesus, you expect me to remember this? Ok, here goes: Statory Swallows, Virigin Mike, tickets*, Certified Poop Accuntant, Four Way Blow, Hair Crotchery, Bum Fucking Vagabond, Jello Wrecked ‘Em, Spank Me May I have My Mother, Peeping Tom Pussy, Drippy Spicket (I think that’s his name), Can’t Douche Pussy Land, Just Krystin, Pop Cum Ear I’m Infected, Extraterrestical, Swedish Eagle, Polar Hortex, Mangia My Vagiana, Pappy Van Tickle, Udder Whore, Luv a Lamp, Spunk In the Trunk, Encylopedia of Child Buggery, Broke Back Baby, Condom Search And Rescue, Frair Fuck. Maybe others.
After arriving at the correct start location I was going to the men’s room to change and over heard a server in the kitchen saying “I just passed a man in the bathroom putting on a kilt.” Wondering who I would find, I was pleased to see that CEP was in there already but he was putting on a skirt! (I only learned of this at the On After, but, don’t worry, he’ll drink for it!). Quickly shedding my “professional/real people clothes” I went back to my people and ordered a beer. Tickets told me an amazing joke about the democratic leanings of gang bangs, and social mingling happened for a while until eventually the hares were gay and sack car was called.
Was anarchy. Serious anarchy. I’d feel bad for the virgin, but after what he endured at circle, I’ll give him a pass on not knowing what the marks meant (and he was FRB!). Oh, we were told the hares had hidden Viking helmets on trail; anyone wearing one at the onin would get a prize.
Trail some lady part:
About half of pack ran uphill from the start, and the other half downhill; surprisingly trail went downhill. It turned a few blocks later and then came to a check at the base of another hill. Zenning like I knew where I was going, I took off uphill on a very promising 2 (and out), then turned left and ran past pack standing at what I thought was a song check on the other side of a field. Yelling out that I was zenning, and ignoring their responses, I continued on and found trail leading to a (HN) mark, and found a helmet in a tree which was way too small for my cranium. It was then I was informed that the song check I had skipped was actually a shot check. Whatever; I pulled a nip out of my kilt, downed it, and kept on going. Following trail through a school and across some major road, there was eventually another left hand turn followed by a song check and another (HN) which Spank Me found. Trail continued on a ridge of sorts to the base of a very long, very steep hill. There was a check, but, honestly, I don’t think anyone even scouted; we all just went up hill. Some of us even ran the entire way up! At the top of the absurdly long hill was a beautiful view on an open trunk with cold beer!
Beer check lady things:
It was a beautiful view of something. I had no idea what I was looking at, but I did know that I was slowly being warmed by my PBR. Pack arrived in waves; the FRB runners, the FRB walkers, the running pack, the walking pack and finally the walkers. When we had all congregated we mostly talked of travels to warmer places because it was a bit chilly and windy up there overlooking whatever it was we were overlooking. Orange food was based around, beer was drunk and the hares left. Then the bag car left and we got cold and decided to leave as well.
Trail: Why do their restrooms have murals of nature scenes and couches?
To anyone with the barest sense of knowledge of geometry, the next part of trail was obvious; downhill. However, being hashers, pack was skeptical of every downhill check we came across because we seriously can’t be just running downhill the whole time , can we? Yes, yes we can. Well, except for that one really steep downhill that was a YBF. Luckily the virgin scouted that one out for us. Thanks virgin! Trail turned left at that check and ran along a road until it crossed another road. Eventually, we saw a true trail pointing into a parking lot with the bag car in it.
Lets be honest; us burritos don’t run taco trails for the trail, we run them to experience the lady circle. It is a strange and different kind of multi-faceted (oligarchical, I think is the best word) cluster fuck, run by one of my favourite RAs* (well, I’m kinda scared of her now) Ignorance is Piss. Circle started pretty normally with Drink a little bit, fuck a little bit, then the hares sang for us and we for them. It was a romantic, beautiful affair. The night was continuing merrily along as FRBs, DFLs, and FBIs (Virgin Mike, Friar and Jello, respectfully) were called in and mocked for their speed. Everyone’s favourite tradition – the administration of Pabsmhers were given to all Burrito-carrying taco virgins – tickets, Spank Me, Virgin Mike and Drippy. They played along and got pabshmear all over their vasages and their hair. Then. Shit. Got. Weird. Virgin Mike (sponsored by the long lost and now found Statory Swallows) was called in for being a virgin and Magnia and CPA came out proudly announcing the start of a new taco tradition. With the completely unsuspecting virgin on his knees, and under a spot light provided by DUI Done Right, CPA and Magania produced something that looked like two spoons attached (backwards) to a pair of kitchen tongs. I did not know this, but apparently ladies get that shit shoved into them. Wow, and I thought “Cough twice and turn to the left” was weird. Anyway, they took the spatula/scapula/whatever and pried the virgins mouth open with it to administer the down down through. Not knowing any better, he did the first – “holy shit was is this thing” – down down like a boss. He might have been the first virgin who was actually worthy! I really don’t remember if there were any more accusations? Anal got a pussy? I thought that wasn’t happening until next year? Whatever. THERE WAS A NAMING.Standing in the circle was a burrito of such infamy that his name and reputation are known everywhere on this side of the Mississippi, and most likely beyond. He is a man of great talent, high abilities, and impeccable class; he is, the perfect modern gentleman; tickets. The tacos threw this over deserving man on the ground and made him assume the position as they pried his mouth open for a taco-down. He went down as tickets, and arose as CUNTFACE! There was religion, announcements, then we invaded Harry’s.
As I said, we invaded Harry’s. The bar was full with muggles when we arrived, and none left a half hour later when it was only us and the lesbian rugby team. Rage.
On – Seven months until Saddie – On
Encyclopedia of Child Buggery
Ball Buster trail tonight - Fizz Ed's, Pleasant St., Malden, MA (Malden T Stop Orange Line)
Beer Mile/Pub crawl tomorrow: Esplinade at 7pm sharp!
MAIN EVENT SATURDAY – Registration opens at BHP at noon.
Fat Beaver Sunday – Tommy Doyles in Kendal (Brunch at 11, Trail at 12:30)
Beer Check at Mile 20 Monday
First Wednesday trail is April 30th, hared by Shart of Darkness and Easy as 1,2,3
NURD – In may
Boston RDR – In June (maybe)
Burlington Invihash – In July
GAP – In August
Pearl Necklace – In Septmeber
AGM – In October
SADDIE HAWKINS – In November (I hope!)
Anti-Buffet – In December
|Trail trash - M*rathon Moon Prelube (or why we had to call AAA)
(over 4 years ago)
What: BH3 M*rathon Moon Pre-Lube
Where: Parking Lot/Bar at the Best Western near Alwife
Who: The Butler Hit It, Just Tasty
Bag car: Bring out the Gimp
Anal Disco, Just Pat, Oh Brother Where Art OW, No Man On The Moon, Salty Mud Flaps, DUI Done Right, Spunk In the Trunk, Emillia Air Fart, Condom Search and Rescue, Laurance My Labia, Can’t Eat Pussy, Blowbot, Chris Brown Eye, Easy as 1,2,3, Jingle Jisms, Cum Ear.
Arriving in a bit of a misty rain, Air Fart and I found CEP and Blowbot standing in a not very sketchy (by hash standards) parking lot. After gawaffing for a while, a minivan taxi pulled up and we thought this was either Anal or Udder, so I gallantly went up to open the door for the lady inside. After opening the door and not recognizing the lady, I closed it and went back to gafawing with my friends (hashers, whatever). A little while later, Oh Brother Where Art OW got out of the cab, suitcase in tow, and said that the she had to argue with the cabby to let her out with this strange, kilted, men in the middle of a parking lot. Just Tasty arrived and told us that the prelube was not in a random parking lot, but was actually at the bar inside, so we scampered in out of the rain.
Once inside we ordered some tasty beer and waited for the other hare and bag car to show up. Then we ordered more beer and wait some more. Then more beer and more waiting. Eventually, Butler and Gimp showed up and the hares got gay with pack away happening around 7:30.
It was pouring, so much so that by the time circle had ended, the marks which we were to be looking for, but couldn’t find, had been totally washed away. This wasn’t a good omen.
From the start trail ran through/over/whatever the round a bout/rotatory/traffic circle/whatever where Alwifebrook parkway and someother park way met. We then began our 3 hour jog around fresh pond. Don’t worry, I won’t end this story here because there is more to tell. Once on the path we had the devil of a time finding the marks which had all been washed away by the torrents of rain and lashing winds. Pack would find a mark, then scatter looking for more, then regroup and scatter again. After a relatively short while we found a beehive, which I hope was not in use, and a bottle of honey whiskey on top of it. We passed that around, but also passed around a bottle of Colt-45 that DUI brought. I don’t drink anywhere near enough Colt-45. None of pack knew the song “if all of the raindrops were lemon drops and gum drops” and Anal tried to start a song about allegators, but that failed and we went on in search of more trail.
Calling it trail would be a diservce to all of the trail blazers of yore who worked tirelessly to cut and blaze trails through rain forests or steep mountains. We followed a seemingly random distribution of flour, and eventually ran into the hare saying “the marks have washed away; the beer check is over here.”
Beer check Demos:
Air fart and I tried to remember which m*rathon moon trail had used this dock as a beer check before; maybe Teabags and Balls Deep from ’12? Maybe it wasn’t even a moon trial? It was raining and the beer-like-liquid (I’m not going to call Natty Ice beer) was quiet warm, but, surprisingly, not bad. We drank it. No Man did promise that if pack comes across a tire swing on trail, she’ll take off her top and jump on it singing “I came in like a wrecking ball!!!” The hares then teased us by saying that because the rain was washing away all the marks they could end trail in about 50 yards or, then they ran off. We, being hashers, assumed that they were going to end trail in 50 yards.
Foolishly believing the hares, we took off into some shiggy and across a gulf course. The rain had let up a bit and trail was strangely well marked, across an empty course – golfers are not known for the metal of their mantels – and eventually to a song check. Pack regrouped then CEP yelled that he “knew where we were going” so we followed him down a 2 and out, before cutting back through the rough to another golf cart trail that eventually took us out to a basketball court area in the pouring rain. The calls of OnOn ahead of me had stopped and I saw a form standing amongst the trees so I assumed that we were at the BC. Nope, just a hare snare, and after waiting no where near the appropriate amount of time, I ran off to find more beer. Run and deftly leaping through the woods I was brought to my knees by a very poorly timed jump over a pricker bush that snagged me in a most unpleasant area and, after pausing to catch my wits, I got back up and chased after the hare. Snaring him again, he asked me if I wanted to help get beer, I didn’t, and so he led a walking pace through the woods, and eventually we ended up at a completely flooded out beer check – whore island! The walkers scrambled down a very steep and muddy bank while the pack tried to get to the beer while stepping in the least amount of murky standing water.
Beer Check Titian:
We did not know this was a beer check until the hares left. By we I mean I, and by I, I mean it was my guess based off the evil lie the hares told at the first beer check. Either way, there was more warm Natty Ice to drink, and so more was drunk. The flooded tracks around the BC were very sketchy and everyone was comparing them to Promethesus, though to me it looked more like the pool out side of Moria. Speak Beer and Drink. Not wanting to disturb the CGI monster lurking in its depths, I scrambled up a very steep and very loose and very muddy slope to get away.
Following the tracks we emerged back basically at the start, and ducked through an alley to the sports complex where we have also OnIned before. This time the rain was really coming down and the wind had picked up so we were grateful to hare for finding an amazing semi-sheltered dugout to have circle in. As pack arrived, the hares went to get beer and orange food from bag car.
While techinically the OnIn, the lack of beer or orange food made it more of an “On group of hashers standing in a dugout.” After what seemed like a very long time the party which went to get beer and the orange food returned, without beer, or orange food. Instead, they informed us, Gimp had locked his keys in the car and was waiting for triple A to come and help him. After a good amount of grumbling, and an extreme failure of democracy in favour of mob rule, we returned to the hotel bar and walked up and ordered drinks on the visitors credit card as if nothing had happened. The bar tender, not quiet sure what to make of us, handed out a few beers while the hostess of the hotel came out and handed all of us fresh, warm towels to warm ourselves while we waited. More beer was bought by more credit-driven hashers, and Anal eventually bought everyone a shot of Fireball, 14, I believe was the total number of shots. We kicked the bottle, and had to supliment the order with Jack Daniels. Did we ever keep the bottle? We should have! With an angelic fanfare gimp entered and we all ran out in the rain to get our bags and beer and orange food. A few orders of fries had been but in, so after downing those (and changing into blessed dry clothes) we quickly scuttled outside under the hotel awning for an abrieviated circle, led by a rather drunk Disco, but at that point in the night, I had stopped trying to remember.
On – Hashing under a howling sky as the norse winds blew – On
Laurence My Liabia
Taco trail tonight – 6:30HST, $5 Hash Cash, Sunset Cantena on Brighton Ave, take the B line
B3H4 tomorrow – 6:30HST, $1 Hash Cash, Fizz Ed's, Pleasant St., Malden, MA (Malden T Stop Orange Line),
The Longboats Arrive Friday – Pub Crawl starts a 5pm at 84 Beacon St, Boston, MA 02108
Glittery Viking Beer Mile – 7PM SHARP – The Dock on the Esplinade (trail marked from Charles MGH)
Spears and Magic Helmets – A Viking raid on Boston: Saturday April 19th, 12:30 at Beacon Hill Pub (Also off the Charles/MGH stop on the Red line)
Sunday – Fat Beaver starting at Tommy Doyles in Kendal (Also on the red line). Brunch at 11, Trail at 12:30.
Monday – Beer check at mile 20.
Sometime in May: NURD
Sometime in June: Boston RDR (maybe)
Sometime in July: Burlington Invihash
Sometime in August: GAP
Sometime in September: Pearl Necklace
Sometime in October: Boston AGM
Sometime in November: Something
Sometime in December: Antibuffet