Boston
Hash House Harriers

a drinking club with a running problem

Hash Trash

Missed a hash? Catch up on all the trash here...

| We Don’t Want to Snare You | "Unofficial" Hash Trash 3/31: Easter Apocalypse Hash | Evacuation Day Hash 2013 Edition | A Threesome in Newton | 2013 Founder's Day Edition, aka What you all missed Friday night! |

We Don’t Want to Snare You (over 4 years ago)
Hash Trash for Boston Trail On Sunday April 7th, 2013
Hare: Friar Fuck*
Bag Car: Brokeback Baby, Vagatarian, 
Pack**:

A transplant for San Degio whose name I forget, Bent Over, Sap Sucker, Necropheliack Jack, Condom Search and Rescue, Just Margarie***, Virgin Alex, Wikipedophila, THE 2nd Cuming, Goat Throat, Willy Wanka and the Back Door Factory, Blow bot, Plecenta the Fresh Maker, Twat My Mom, Swedish Eagle, The Butler Hit It, maybe others.

Pre lube: Eliot T-Stop on the Green line.
It was a beautiful day, and there were high hopes that a pack of fairly substantial would show up to terrorize the 1%. However, it was only 1% of the Hash that showed up. I arrived at the start, and didn’t see anyone. Suddenly, a man walked out of the wait-for-the-T-inside-bubble and handed me a flask of some vile and disgusting liquid. It turned out to be Necrophilack Jack, who, apparently, along with dozens of other half-minds had gotten very drunk the night before and probably wouldn’t be at trail. Did they forget our charter? “To cure weekend hangovers”?!?! BOSS got out of his car and we were shortly joined by the aforementioned transplant, plus another transplant and a very agreeable looking virgin. Pack filtered in slowly, getting out the trains as they came through and we were beginning to wonder if the hare would ever show up since none of us brought our own libations. That probably a bad idea because when the hare did show up, all he had was some God-awful beer that made the High Life look like the Best Beer Ever Made. 

The Hare stumbled off, and so, unfortunately, did one of the visitors and the agreeable virgin. Pack was introduced to 3D chalk, did 3D chalk talk, then, after giving the hare a start worthy of his long and distinguished hashing career, left the T Stop.

Trail, Phase 1:

After running around a few checks looking for “marks” or “falses” we decided that the hare wasn’t laying any so on one was basically on-on. We got nice a lost by a fire station before we figured this out, then ran through
a shopping district, past some abandoned rail road tracks and a good amount of graffiti. One slogan bears repeating “Make Underage Drinking Legal!!” This confused us since if it isn’t illegal, it wouldn’t be underage. We ran on past a giant mansion guarded not by lions, bears, elephants, or other noble beasts worthy of such a dwelling but two gaint tropical fish. It was most peculiar.  The pack was confused by a BN marking into a
park, but no beer, and no further trail.

The beer was hidden, with the hare, in a valley filled with thorns.

Beer check: We drank beer and talked about Disney.

Trail, Act II:

After running back out threw said valley of throns, for no good reason, we found trail following the river and out to some road. After briefly lemming across the street, we turned to follow trail across the bridge when we saw, in the distance, our venerable hare. We stopped. We waited. While we were waiting, Swedish Eagle appeared. He had followed trail, but didn’t find any beer. Poor hasher. He’d been scouting the Marathon Monday Ball Buster Trail, so we didn’t feel bad for him. Why do Ball Busters when you can get all the beer with drastically less running? Eventually, we got bored and ran after the hare.

We saw him again, stumbling along the river bank. We stopped again. No one caught up to us this time, but we started running again and crossed back through the shopping plaza we had tranversed a few beers ealier. Trail forked down along a river again, and again, we were lied to about the proximity of the beer to the Beer Near mark. Eventually we found it. Goat decided to fall down a step embankment to get the beer instead of running along the level path. Whatever. He’s a goat. As the beer check was ending a car pulled up across the river and someone started yelling at us. Apparently, Google Maps didn’t realize that she wasn’t driving an amphibious vehical. 

Trail, Part C:

After crossing an abandoned rail bridge, trail wound along 128 to Echo Bridge where we stopped, again, because we saw the hare. We also saw some very confused looking Chinese tourists who seemed to take pictures of us as if we were part of the natural landscape. Odd. I hope they remember to keep them on hashscpace. On the other side of the bridge there was true trail and  BN. This time the beer was near, as the On In was Friar’s house.

Circle:

2nd RAed and called the hair into the circle. We told the hare that we had been f*cked again, and he sang some song I don’t remember. We brought in Virgin Alex, who was good a math, but didn’t know the square root of 69. His favourite barn-yard animal is a snake (apparently there are snake farms in France) and says yell “Mon Deux” when the com. Strange, but he’s French. We then heard someone running up the stairs and it was Little Sister Fister, alive, on trail, and beerless. We sang to him, and gave him his longer desired beer. We then called Friar back in for not having anywhere near enough tags for his long hashing career and learned that he was not always Friar Fuck! His original name was “Floppy Dick” or something because he brought a 3.5” floppy with him on his first trail. That name was quickly replaced by  this…

The Boston Hash, in the mid 90s, went up toe Acadia National Park for a weekend of high class debauchery. This debauchery included some long bike ride on a dirt road. The young hasher then known as “Floppy” didn’t know that bike seats are not built for padding, and therefore did not have proper padding in the seated area. After a day of riding, then walking in pain, then riding, with the hash long out of sight, he eventually found the end and an elated pack since they wouldn’t have to go look for him. Asked what took him so long, he explained as named “Numb Nuts” since his nuts were, at that point, Numb.

We drank to Numb nuts.

Blow Bot then alerted the pack that someone was at the door. A police man? Maybe? Who knows. Eventually calls went out that it wasn’t the police, it was Goes Down on Bouys. The pack was therefore quiet startled when Yanke Pay $5 More walked up the stairs! We called him in for also being DFL, and Blow Bot for confusing Bouys and Yankee.

Other things happened. There was cold pasta.

That’s it.

Anouncments:
None.

GO TO MARATHON THIS WEEK! TRAIL TONIGHT! TRAIL TOMORROW! TRAIL THRUSDAY! PUB CRAWL (AND TRAIL) FRIDAY! MAIN EVENT SATURDAY!!!! HANG OVER SUNDAY! BEERK CHECK AT MILE 20 MONDAY!!!
 
Also, we need hares for May. Look at the calendar, chose a date then e-mail Butler or I.
OnOn, -Wikipedophila.
(Yes, I am officaly the scribe)
*Really, you thought I’d annotate this?
** Spell check is for wossies.

"Unofficial" Hash Trash 3/31: Easter Apocalypse Hash (over 4 years ago)
Disclaimers: (1) I am not a scribe, just a former-GM, part-time hash cash,
and back slider who thinks a hash trash for this trail is deserved. (2) I
was not paying attention for most of trail, so I may take the liberty to
make stuff up, (3) I may currently be intoxicated

*Scribe: Nice Tits
*Hares: *5 Inch Penalty with bag car I Licked Butts and I think a couple of
Justs....
*Start:* The Landsdowne Pub
*Pack:* (ok, I tried to keep track as our GMs asked me too. Clit Notes
tried to help identify those strange faces that this back-slider did not
recognize) - Beat By a Girl, Bend Over Mommy, Blubber F*cker, Certified
Poop Accuntant, Condom Search and Rescue, Goes Down on Bouys, I Licked
Butts, Just Ben, Just Lauren (to be named later), Just Myles, Just Amy (to
be named later), Just Angus (to be named later), Nice T*Ts, Rodent Felcher,
Spunk in the Trunk, Stick It to the Bros, The Buttler Hit It, Vagetarian,
and Yankee Pay $5 More
Pick up on Trail: Harlot Globe Fondler

*Trail:* Walkers followed Yankee to a Liquor Store to acquire Road Sodas
before opening their map.

Meanwhile, the rest of pack left the bar with Spunk leading the way and
seemed to circle around Fenway a bit and zigzag through Emerson & Longwood
area. At the song check we sang Whip It Out at the Ballgame, in honor of
starting at Fenway. CPA, Clit Notes and I came upon an interesting hop
scotch game that involved a triple spin, a dance break and eventually
following our dreams. Thankfully, we dreamt of beer, and eventually made it
to the first beer check in the Bird Sanctuary in Brookline. We sat on the
ground awaiting beer while Buttler gave us an unintended show. Yup, he wore
that kilt proper! PBR in hand we all rejoiced and tried not to disturb the
lesbian couples out for their nightly walk or the elderly woman who
rightfully mistook us for children.

On to the second leg, we ran around Brookline until entering a playground
where in the corner hid a strategically placed bottle next to chalk a
renditions of easter egg. We tried not to look sketchy while taking some
swigs. We sang Jesus Saves at a church, which April Fools, turned out to be
condos. Shocking some small children and bikers alike. Then a bunch of us
ran straight on Harvard St, apparently missing the dick check and running
into a welcoming group hug. Just Amy then walked the tight rope in bunny
ears and bells. Beer check 2 occurred in a back alleyway where we played
"What Would you do for a PBR?" as the beer selection had changed to Miller
with only a few PBRs left and we picked up Harlot ( a great addition to
this motley crew).

Ok, to be perfectly honest, at this point I stopped running trail and
proceeded to walk/jog while recounting the story of the Springfield
Sh*tshow, to Buttler- a Friday night that occurred 5 years ago that Wang,
Jimmy, Counterfeit and IEC will never forget. (Story omitted to protect the
non-so-innocent).

We ended at the Silhouette. Pizza was already there... trail of the year!

Highlights from Circle lead by Blubber:
- 5 Inch Penalty had a Stupid Secret Hare..... Vagetarian! Both drank and
apparently both used to work in Chicago
- Comments included... this was like Dentata's trail, but with marks! Where
was the dick check? It's been a while, but I was able to find my t*ts for
the check
- Blubber F*cker, Condom Search and Rescue, I Licked Butts, Bend Over
Mommy, Just Ben, Just Myles, and The Buttler Hit It met the March Madness
Sock Challenge of attending 4 out of 5 trails and got the new BH3 Shiggy
Socks. Wear them with pride! Mommy & T*ts sang to Blubber about his 10
inches that were really only 4...
- we named people. It is true. Just Amy, who walks a tight rope, has signed
someone's cock, asked for Spunk by hash name at work, and has had many
failed polyamorous endeavors was not named John HandCock or Failed
Foursome, but will forever be known to the hash as Hipsterectomy (thank you
Yankee for that amazing new name)
- Just Agnus was up next. He apparently asks a lot of people to make out
with him, and hits on virgins with minimal success. He was not named
Portuguese Man of Whore or Puffy the Virgin Slayer, but because I wrote it
down to be funny... he will be known as Stuck on 2nd. Sorry man, at least
you are joining the illustrious 2nd clan!
- Just Lauren, who apparently has had a stripper fondle her and likes to
slap the men she is with, did not get named Ground Zero Hero, Slap My B*tch
Up or Snatch & Release... but is instead Cunt Jungle (thank you, Harlot)
- Announcements: Marathon Rego goes up tomorrow, Yankee (who does not
believe in the internet) was told where the start is, and Pink Taco have
many fine things they would like to sell you
- Buttler is the hero of the evening leaving before circle ended but giving
the bartender $60 to "get his friends drunk." We love you, and obliged!

I must say I was impressed at the number of marks on trail despite previous
claims of a "lame hare," and have to say that all of you who were busy
eating Grandma's ham... missed out. The creative energy was flowing and
Blubber pulled an RA TriF*ckta with 3 namings. We would have named Just
Myles and Just Ben (sock winners and both with beards) but apparently they
are "saving themselves for Moon." WTF?!?!?

Alright Moon, we throw the gauntlet down. Come up with better names than
Hipsterectomy, Stuck on 2nd and Cunt Jungle.

One more Sunday till Marathon. Hope you enjoyed this "unofficial hash
trash", i.e. what I did on trail.

On-NoOneCalledMeOutForBackSliding-On,
T*ts

Evacuation Day Hash 2013 Edition (over 4 years ago)
Date: Sunday, March 17, 2013
Hares: Yankee and Anal Disco(her virgin lay)
Start: Pearl Street Station
Beer Check: Sketchy alley
On-in: Under a bridge
Time: 2:30 HST

Total beers consumed: More than a few; less than enough.

Let me begin by saying, I always get a half-chub for a Yankee trail; denim and Marb Reds abound. CPA and Harlot were quick to echo this sentiment.

Against all conventional wisdom, the theme for trail on March 17th had absolutely nothing to do with St. Patrick’s Day. We instead celebrated Evacuation Day, one of many bullshit, made-up holidays allowing Bostonians to have the day off work and drink excessively. 

The Hash converged on the Pearl Street Station—a surprisingly classy prelube, perfectly juxtaposing the On-After—shortly before HST and the binging began in earnest. In an effort to overcome their hangovers, our faithful hares decided it best to begin the afternoon with alternating shitty beers and shots of whiskey. In hindsight, with the time afforded by the Great Bar Car Debacle of 2013, shots might’ve been aggressive.

After more than a few rounds, Titney Spewston saved the day and offered up bag-carring services. Wiki, the assumed bag car for the day, readily admitted his faults and offered to buy Titney about a million beers.

At opening circle, we met our Virgins, Johann and Jen, and almost talked them into showing body parts (so close). We learned that Yankee had made the executive decision to make it a Cajun trail. After confusing the shit out of the virgins and veterans alike with this news, pack was off.

The first leg of trail ran through only the classiest parts of Malden. There were—alleged—tit checks and the usual harriettes performed their civic duties. Yankee and Disco enticed the pack into a sketchy alley with promises of beer near. The beer check included plenty of Natty Ice and Busch Lite and a virgin FBI. Not surprisingly, amongst the men, Bro’s and Sweagle came first.

The second leg of trail included scenic strip malls, railroad tracks, and housing projects. Pack routinely chased false trails up hills, apparently forgetting who was haring. Ultimately, pack stumbled upon some flour on a set of abandoned train tracks. What was thought to be a second beer check was actually the On-In.

After some beer and pizza and beer, it was time to get circle underway. In no particular order, circle included the following:
  1. The pack reminded the hares that they laid a S-H-I-T-T-Y-T-R-A-I-L.
  2. We met our virgins and waited for them to each do something stupid or funny (still waiting…)
  3. We met some out-of-towners who introduced us to the new unofficial PT2H3 theme song about small wieners and the disappointed women that ride them.
  4. We discovered Mommy co-authored said small wiener song and decided she has a moral obligation to lead pack in song at the collective beckon-call of the Hash.
  5. The RA ruined circle and put the announcements before the accusations. Dumbass.
  6. We returned vessels long lost and learned that CPA can drink Bro’s under the table.
  7. Hashers drank out of shoes. Against all logic, the virgin decided to borrow The Second Cuming’s shoe, that he has used for the past months to train (r*cist).
  8. About a dozen hashers discussed their naked jaunt through Medford from the night prior.
  9. An out-of-towner lost his keys on trail; they were recovered by a Boston hasher. Pack made sure to remind him that he was stupid, stupid, really fucking dumb.
  10. Hares and Harriettes that coordinated their outfits prior to Trail were called on to drink.
Yankee introduced the Hash to The Squire Lounge which, thank Christ, showed up on my credit card statement as only 604 Café. Due to their willingness to show body parts, many of the staff at The Squire were inducted into the Hash. Never before has a group of hashers been so overdressed.

Your scribe, Blubber F*cker

A Threesome in Newton (almost 5 years ago)
Feb 10, 2013: A Threesome in Newton

Table 1 : Pack

Hare: Friar F*ck
Pack: The Buttler Hit It. E = I'm a D*uche
Beer backpack (suspiciously large for only six beers): Friar F*ck

Table 2 : Trail
FRB: E = I'm a D*uche
FBI: The Buttler Hit It
DFL: Friar F*ck
Sweat test failure: Just Skeeter

Table 3 : Alcohols
Prelube : Miller High Life
Beer Check 1 : Bag-O and Miller High Life
Inter-BC1/2: Bag-O 
Beer Check 2: Very much like BC 1
Post BC2: More Bag-O
Hare Snare Shot Check: 1800 Reposado Tequila
Post-hare snare. pre-on-in: More Bag-O. Small scare when it got stuck in a tree. (To find out who caused this grim situation, read on...)
On-In: Some sort of gluten-free beer, which was fairly delicious. All of the above.

Chapter 1: The Pre-Prelube:

After failed attempts to make various harriettes c*m, The Buttler Hit It ("Buttler") and E = I'm a D*uche ("E") set off from Davis square, sans t*ts. After a 20 minute ride where absolutely no illicit substances were consumed, they arrived in Newt*n. Buttler deftly avoided an insane woman in a Mini. They eventually arrived in an abandoned parking lot in the Newton ghetto. 

As expected, no trail was laid to the prelube. Blindly following technology to the start address, Buttler and E eventually called Friar. They learned that the abandoned office building was in fact Friar's house. Sensing beer was near, they entered...

Chapter 2: The Prelube

Buttler took off his pants while E searched for beer. E found a 30 of High Life (no OJ :() in a snowbank out the side door. Unlike most hash High Life, it was not warm, and in fact had chunks of beer ice in it. ( I feel beer ice needs a proper name, but I have absolutely no ideas). When E returned, he was relieved to find that Buttler had put a Kilt on. They then attempted to convince Just Skeeter to c*m on trail with them. Unfortunately, Just Skeeter declared that he was "Too old for this sh*t", and went back to bed. Friar left with an enormous sack, which the pack feared might not satisfy their desires on trail.

Chapter 3: Friar's first leg

Trail went uphill. No one was surprised. It shortly took a sharp left into deep snow, which led onto an aqueduct. Avoiding several youths and their dogs, Buttler and E followed trail and descended the hill on the far side of the aqueduct. A man and his child commented on the temperature of Buttler's balls. Definitely not following footprints instead of marks, the pack found Friar at the bottom of the hill, drinking a beer...

Chapter 4: The First Beer Check

High Life's (High Lives?) were lined up in a row for each member of the pack. A Bag-O was also present, which subsequently accompanied the pack on trail. Intellectual conversation was had about aqueducts. Buttler attempted to sit down, but didn't like how the snow felt on his bare balls.

Chapter 5: Friar's second leg

10 minutes after watching Friar painfully ascend the hill, the pack set off. Trail doubled back on itself, causing mass confusion. Finally escaping onto fresh trail, the pack c*me upon pavement. Alas, several checks later, they lost trail. Finally, Hope! A playground in the distance! Assuming beer must be near, the pack climbed a fence and ran into another man with child. 
The man attempted to con the pack out of two dollars in exchange for information on the hares. The pack attempted to steal his child's sled (The hill had a jump!). Eventually an agreement was made, and the man relented that the hare had headed "off into the sunset". (Seriously what he said). The pack really should have known which way Friar had gone: across a carefully crafted "SAM" written in the snow, someone with a large sack had drawn an ungainly line. Following this, and crossing yet another fence, the pack found...

Chapter 6: The second beer check
More beer. More Bag-O. More debate on how unsafe the ice was.

Chapter 7: Friar's third leg

Longer than expected. Not very well defined. Despite most the marks being a bright orange chalk, the pack found a true trail laid in mysteriously yellow snow. Shortly thereafter, E snared the hare. There was an inmpromptu shot check befire the hare set off. More intellectual conversation, and another mysteriously yellow mark ("H.S."), apparently laid with Buttler's "pack chalk". After 5 minutes, the pack set out again. C*mming up on the hare yet again, the pack stayed back, as not to spook him. While waiting, the pack played Bag-O. Buttler tossed Bag-O into a tree. E heroically retrieved it from the tree. Soon enough, they were off again, lost, regretting their decision to not follow the hare. The pack passed the base of a radio tower, and yet another intellectual conversation ensued. Eventually back on the main road, the pack wandered around in search of marks for a while, then started to zen back to the on-in. They encountered the hare, who fell in behind th e pack, and somehow became DFL.

Chapter 8: On-In

Delicious lasagna. Circle (triangle?). Lots of accusations. Surprisingly long. New songs. Relief that the pack wasn't stuck at a tit check, waiting for a stranger. Skeeter doing mushrooms. Truck across the street failing at plowing. Good beer. Almost finished Bag-O. 

Chapter 9: Epilogue
E and his delightful companion, DoucheLand, laid the Trail of the Year.the following week. Absolutely no one was upset about trail, there was only good beer and good food, and the entire pack got laid.

2013 Founder's Day Edition, aka What you all missed Friday night! (almost 5 years ago)

Founder's Day Edition, aka What you all missed Friday night!
Friday, February 1st, 2013Yesterday night in 20 degrees or less, a hardy few joined Dribbles, Hare Club and myself for the Founder's Day trail.

Pack gathered at The Pub in Ball Sq, Somerville and included a transplant F*** Off, Velvet Pelvis, Master Gator, Save A Tree Ride A Cowboy (SATRAC).

Hare Club (stepped in for myself, Nice T*ts, after a minor bike accident took me out of haring and moved me into bag car status) and left with Dribbles heading towards Trum Field. Dribbles had an immediate hash crash that resulted in broken chalk and a hamstring pull. She waved HC ahead and tried to follow along. She got lost when HC decided to trek down a steep hill that was not part of the original trail.

Pack decided to run up and down Cedar street chasing rock salt piles while waiting for Public Nuisance to join them. After 30 minutes they found trail across from Trum field and ran around Magoon Sq before saying "F This! Doesn't HC own a home near here?" Pack then headed to HC's backyard for a cold beer check. Velvet was nice enough to search for our transplant and guide him in to the beer.

Dribbles, a hare, had to call bag car for directions.

This may have been the worst trail ever, but the hares redeemed themselves by ending trail quickly and heading to Ball Sq Bowling for warm pizza, cold PBR and hours of candlepin. Pack was joined by late comers Dick Jockey, who set up the sounds system for the event, Mexican Humping Queen and Great Laxation.

This hare found out that Velvet was quite the competitive bowler with smack talk ranging from "I'm in your head now, and doing a jig. By the way, there is a lot of room in here. Helloo-o-o-o-o"and "Dribbles, there are still no potatoes, get off the phone and bowl!"

Highest roll by a hasher was Dick Jockey at 97. However, Hare Club bowled a 69, so he is truly the winner.

Trail of the Year!!!

-T*ts