Missed a hash? Catch up on all the trash here...
(4 months ago)
What: The Leftovers Hash
Hares: Shits n Ladders and Testicular Mechanics
Bag Car: Twat My Mom
Pack: Fellowship of the Cock Ring, Luva Lamp, Yellow Dick Gnome, Lumberjackoff, a Just, two visitors AND THAT WAS IT
I got to Summer Shack after the very prompt hares had already left, so I immediately called 6.9 minutes to get this shit show on the road. I didn't recognize half the pack, which seemed worrisome. Two r*cist hares and a pack that's nearly half visitors/justs? WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG??
What went wrong aka I swear I scouted that way already:
After the finest chalk talk I've ever given, we started looking for trail, which immediately went through Alewife station. We wandered through some parks and around the ugly high-rise apartments, along Alewife Brook Parkway to a count back that took us down to a parking lot and then towards a maze of old industrial buildings and abandoned parking lots. We came across a hash sitapede that I decided to ignore. From there, there were about as many marks as there were hashers in pack, which is to say not many. We ran in circles for a while until Luva decided to zen towards where there was a possible beer check location. Low and behold, the hares were there, freezing their asses off. It's the least they could suffer for what they put us through.
Some park next to a small pond. We drank beer. It was nice. Hares laid a giant check right in front of us as they left. Why?? We can see which way they went!
Marks, glorious marks!
Turns out, our tricksy hares had pre-laid trail going a different way then they left. So clever, but not more clever than our visitor, who immediately figured out their game and led us in the correct direction. The hares took our admonishment to "be more generous with marks" to heart, but we still managed to miss a check and started trespassing in some dude's back yard, trying to find a way through his fence. He kindly did not call the cops on us, and we found the actual trail, eventually ending up at a shot check with some vaguely cucumber-flavored hatorade. We drank it down and continued on our way right back to the parking lots we had been lost in on the first leg of trail. I got separated from pack, but Fellowship rescued me. Turns out I didn't miss much, because they were doing laps around a Burger King. Trail led to Fresh Pond and a second hatorade check, this one an uninviting shade of yellow-brown. We drank that one too, and ran on until we found beer check 2.
Park. Beer. Darkness.
It's a hare snare if I say it's a hare snare:
Trail went on to Danehy Park, aka the park built on top of an old land fill. I kept finding trail and feeling pretty good about myself when I came across the hares. Turns out, they ran out of flour tantalizingly close to where we'd be back on pavement, but were kind enough to wait for pack so they could direct us which way to go. I still count that as a hare snare. I waited for pack to catch up with me, which took FOREVER because apparently everyone decided now was the time for a leisurely stroll in the park. Why? THERE'S BEER AT THE END, PEOPLE!
We ended at everyone's favorite shitty west Cambridge dive bar, Paddy's Lunch. There were accusations, including visitors, transplants, hare snares, and some other stuff. We found out why everyone was a Leftover, which mostly came down to being too cheap to go skiing or go to Chicago. Shits decided to sing a verse song every time I called on him for a note, which apparently he does to torment me. After circle was over, the visitor convinced some of us to hang out after circle since her dad was watching some sporting event and wouldn't pick her up until it was done. We continued drinking more than was strictly necessary for a Sunday night.
1/11: Holiday party. There's a theme or something
1/12 (probably): January taco. All tacos and burritos with a bag-car token are welcome to attend. Brunch run starting and ending at Casa de Gnome
1/19: Ballbuster Lasagna-off trail
1/27: Robbie Burns trail (scotch, haggis, regrets)
|Light Side/Dark Side Hash
(4 months ago)
What: Light Side/Dark Side Hash
Hares: Sex: The Final Frontier and Tinder Dick (virgin lay)
Bag car: Clits n Chips n Clits n Chips
Pack: Shits n Ladders, Fellowship of the Cock Ring, Knuckles Deep, Falmon, Po-po Peepshow, Quarter Mile Queer, Bottom Wrangler, Just Mihaela, Waxxx Off
Pack arrived at the start epitomizing the theme of the trail. I was feeling tired from my l*ng r*n earlier that morning, and most everyone else was feeling hung over from Hong Kongukah and other assorted festivities. We were a sad and bedraggled crew.
Leg 1: The light side, I guess
Perhaps sensing our distress, the hares laid a very short first leg of trail, though we still managed to fuck it up (by doubting Famine's zenning skills). We went down some side streets, across a literal sheet of ice, and up a hill, finding ourselves at the first beer check at the top of Summit Hill (an important ceremonial location for the r*cist group that calls itself "November Project," I am told).
Leg 2: It's dark from here on out
After that first beer check, it was No More Mr. Nice Hares. Trail went down one side of Summit to CB22, with a couple shot checks laid along the way - we amassed some haterade and some jello slices. We somehow managed to miscount and get ourselves confused again, but eventually figured out that trail went down the other side of Summit, where we found another two or three shot checks, each with a couple bottles of shots plus some nips. I am not exaggerating when I say we had more full-size shots than the number of people on pack. We did not drink them all, instead agreeing to save some for the hares when and if we ever got to the end.
We crossed Comm Ave (right past the apartment where I lived when I started hashing! awwww, memories), straggled on over further into Allston (holding our breath for news of an on-in at the Sil - but alas, it was not to be), and got to beer check #2, which was at some little playground in Allston.
Leg 3: The very dark (and cold) side
It was getting dark and very cold. Memorable moments of this leg of trail included:
- getting in a verbal altercation with some dude in a car (he was totally the asshole, btw)
- running through Harvard Stadium, another location with religious significance to the peoples of the November Project group
- whining a lot about the cold
...was somewhere just outside Harvard Stadium, where Harvard security drove by us about a million times but apparently decided anyone stupid enough to be out in the dark and the cold was probably too stupid to do any harm to the property.
We had been warned that circle would be outdoors but, in true hashmanlike fashion, were still inadequately prepared. We did some lackluster accusations -- including making the hares drink some of their shots, of which we still had like six. However, we quickly gave up and disbanded circle before the pizza arrived in a poorly conceived effort to find an indoor place with beer. Naturally, we apparently hadn't checked where bag car was before doing so, and she pulled up with pizza just as we left. We stuffed our faces with some pizza, ducked into a Starbucks to warm up, and then the stupidest among us headed toward the Hong Kong for the final night of """"gentle rage.""""
12/13 (maybe) - PT2H3, hared by Disco
12/14-16 - Antibuffett/Anthrax!
12/16 - Leftovers hash
(5 months ago)
What: The Basic Trail
Who: WIkipediaphilia, Udder Whore, and Virgin (Just?) JJ.
Bag car: No Man
Pack: Sex: The Final Frontier. Orgasm Falmon, Sketchy Ho, 5 Inch Penalty, Dribbles, Sketchy Ho, Pop Cum Ear I'm Infected, The Buttler Hit It, Goat Throat (Kind of but not), Yellow Dick Gnome, Shits 'N Ladders, Shart of Darkness, Po Po Peepshow, Whore's Box, Testicular Mechanics, Oboener, Luva Lamp, Sketchy Ho.
Leg #1: Noticing that we had no unnamed hashers on trail, Gnome elected to forego chalk talk and we simply looked for trail. After spiralling around Harvard Square, we did stumble our way to Song Check directly in front of a Harvard security guard. I waited around for pack and the guard asked me if *we* had put the sign of an S with a circle on it in this colored flour as a means to show that something started there.
"Um... no. We definitely did not ....[under breath] start here."
Gnome lead in a rousing verse of "Them them f*ck them", as appropriate.
A few of us went into a lot behind an apartment complex for a Sitapeed before veto-ing and figuring most of pack had skipped it, knowing the lot's only exit and hashing smarter not harder. We found Wiki and his four-legged far more intelligent and less likely to fuck up a song co-hare holding a delicious pumpkin spiced basic latte for us, before begging for more time because apparently his Clydesdale of a dog isn't very fast.
We c*m upon BC1 in Sacramento Field.
Leg #2: We leaped away and through a playground and followed trail to Corcoran Field for BC2. There was a lovely display in which Wiki pranced through the field with Virgin Cohare. Wiki warned us: (1) trail would be approx. 6.9 more miles and (2) there was a shot check to be had, so as to deter us from zenning to Paddy's Lunch.
As pack craniumed out, some, figuring the hare for a liar, ignore the SC prognostication and zenned straight. The sturdy and valiant true among us ran trail only to be punished for our efforts with a CBX, with legibility falling into such question as to make this an underdetermined algebraic system. After much thoughtful discussion, pack decided it was definitely either CB2, CB3, CB5, or CBb and trying all such variations until trail was solved. (Hare later revealed CB6 was intended.) We located the aforepromised shot that Sav-Mor liquors would call "pumpkin shit" before proceeding to Paddy's.
Circle: Hares were called in for being shitty hares. The virgin hare received much passive aggressive abuse from the hash in choice of song lyrics. Backsliders, overachievers, and hares were called in, and hares were called in again. We swung low and had pizza that we all agreed was as good as the trail was bad.
|A very spoopy Halloweekend hash
(6 months ago)
What: A very spoopy Halloweekend hash
Hares: Buttler and ghost
Bag car: Also ghost
Pack: Sex: The Final Frontier, Shits and Ladders, O'Boner, Just Django, Cuntcussion, Fellowship of the Cock Ring, PoPo Peepshow, Bottom Wrangler, Testicular Mechanics, Waxxx Off, Whores Box, Friar Fuck, Just Joshua, and a surprise appearance by Not Dead Yet
I got to Davis late and immediately crossed paths with Buttler, who was gimping around the street with his cane, laying marks. I believe this to be a new record for the earliest Buttler has been gay at one of his own trails. All I'm saying is, the fact that he has to use a cane isn't all bad.
When I got to Sligo, I was immediately greeted by the sight of STFF in full r*cist regalia from the race he'd run that morning, including a bib and finisher's medal. He told me that Whore's Box -- who had also run the race that morning -- had suggested that they wear their hardware to the hash; however, it turned out to be a long con, as she showed up in normal non-r*cist attire.
Before long, we finished our beers and headed to chalk talk in a parking lot near Sligo -- a location that was about to become intimately familiar to us. We shared our names and our ideas for the spookiest hash (answers I remember: being on a Wiki trail, being on a trail with Bottom Wrangler, a trail that doesn't cure your hangover, being put on the spot in chalk talk and not having an answer ready). Shits also told us that Buttler had warmed him that there would be an unusual mark, but Shits couldn't remember what the mark actually was or how it worked. Awesome! Well prepared as always, we began trail.
We did the monster mash
Trail looped through Davis and back around the block, ending up with us almost exactly where we had started, but with the addition of a big bag of wine right across the street from the Discodome. We yelled in the general direction of Disco's window until she came out to join us, carrying a mug of tea. I swear I don't even know who she is any more.
Given the small size of pack and the large size of the baggo, our progress was very slow. Eventually the parents in the playground immediately next to us started giving us side-eye, so we thought it best to move on. We stashed the rest of the baggo in bag car -- which hadn't moved -- and then followed the true trail mark across the street.
We ran through the side streets around Davis, admiring the houses that had actually put effort into their Halloween decorations, when we happened upon a slightly drunk Not Dead Yet taking clean laundry out of her car! She was wearing flats and had been planning on getting food to offset her drunkenness, but we were able to talk her out of that practical decision almost immediately, and she joined us on trail.
We continued meandering through the streets, stopping for a view check in front of what used to be the house Easy had lived in, though now it's just a big hole in the ground. There was a smart/stupid that directed us underground through the Davis station or aboveground through the square; after a quick journey on to the bikeway, we took a couple rights and suddenly found ourselves back in the parking lot where we had started for the first beer check.
It was a graveyard smash
We again yelled for Disco and, again, she came out and joined us. We drank cold beer and speculated about whether all of the beer checks on trail would be in the same parking lot. Buttler hobbled off again, and we speculated on whether we would be doing him a favor if we snared him and then took over laying trail for him.
After we did damage to the beer and the giant baggo, we craniumed out on a scenic tour through Somerville, including a view check for the largest tree in Somerville ("big wood," as someone so cleverly quipped).
Trail took us back to the Alewife bikeway, where we found the mark that Shits had forgotten to explain to us: an eagle/false split. The bikeway was fenced off for construction, and eagle trail continued over the fence and beyond, speculating wonder as to how our crippled hare was able to lay it. As a less-than-proficient fence jumper, I turned around and headed back to the nearest check. We soon met up with the eagles and then with the hare, for a second beer check next to the bikeway in a construction zone.
At the beer check, we proceeded to make the dumbest possible decisions; after several harriettes (YHS included) squeezed through a gap in the chained fence to find a corner to pee in, O'Boner marched up to the fence and showed us that the chain was not actually fastened to anything, and that the gate could be readily opened. Some other smartass pointed out that there was a port-a-potty just down the street. But as Wiki will tell you, I never pee in a port-a-potty when there's a dumpster nearby, so #noragrets.
It caught on in a flash
We were completely clueless and bewildered as to where trail could end. Just kidding; it went to the Buttler pad.
We circled in Buttler's backyard/Django's bathroom, trying not to wonder too much about whether *all* of the brown stuff getting on our shoes was just mud. We fucked up several songs and changed some songs to other songs halfway through. We accused the r*cists in our midst of being r*cist, gave an honor down-down to NDY for joining us mid-trail, accused everyone who's ever had a boner (or a lady-boner) at trail (I am not sure why, but it made sense at the time), accused anyone who didn't wear a costume to a Halloweekend trail, and other stuff that I forget. We attempted to put the baggo out of its misery but, despite a lot of heavy lifting by Shits, were not successful.
Then, after failed attempts to cut hash religion short, we adjourned to go inside the house, where we watched pizza porn (why? I don't know!) and Buttler made us steak tips and potatoes. All in all, it was a successful hash.
|*8 bit trail hash trash*
(6 months ago)
*8 bit trail hash trash*
Prelube was at Versus bar, ostensibly an arcade-bar operation. I wouldn't know for sure as I plopped myself down at the "bar" part which presented itself immediately upon entrance, and never saw any arcade games. I had some beer and ate some fried Mac and cheese bites while I waited for trail to start.
We circled up and did chalk talk.
Hares: Quarter mile Queer, Bottom Wrangler. Bagcar: The Buttler Hit It. Pack:
Shits & Ladders, Body in Lotion, Popo Peepshow, Stick it to the Brothers, Mr Bean, Just Wes, Willy Wonka and the Backdoor Factory, Testicular Mechanics, Dry Hoes, Just John, Just Josh, Sex The Final Frontier, Fellowship of the Cockring, Virgin Caroline, 2 other virgins who would ultimately not complete trail (RIP), others maybe
Leg 1:To start, trail cut across the Boston Common to Beacon Street.. We hit a checkback at Beacon and Charles Street before heading up into the Beacon Hill area. Trail eventually came out to the river and we ran North til we got to the first beer check at Lederman Park.
BC1: One of the virgins, let's call her virgin Caroline because that's her name, informed us that barnacles have the greatest penis to body size ratio in the animal kingdom. Er smallest ratio? I'm not a math scientist. The one that means they have huge dicks for their body size anyway (Cum-Ear - can you confirm if true?). Sex the Final Frontier quipped that it was not the barnacle, but in fact himself that had the best ratio. It was postulated that on in would be Courtside, but the cagey hares would neither confirm nor deny this. It was cold and windy by the river. The hares eventually left.
We crossed the river by the Museum of Science, and soon there was a turkey-eagle split, which lasted for a while. The larger group (eagles) began wondering if trail had rejoined itself yet. We finally found a rejoining mark and saw the turkeys in front of us. Shortly therafter, Sex the Final Frontier snared the hares, details as follows: "I followed turkey trail, saw the hares kitty-cornered, yelled "ON HARES". QMQ took off and Wrangler attempted to eevade[sic] me wiht[sic] a hastily drawn tit check that looked more like a Venn diagram showing 2 boobs intersecting." Wow. A thrilling account. Incredible. We stopped and sang for a while while we waited for the hares to put some distance between themselves and pack. We all apparently used to work in retail in a city in the Midwest. (actually I didn't, but I wanted to fit in so I pretended like I did for the song. like 98% sure the rest of these people know each other from someplace they used to work before all getting fired for various reasons though, most of them lewd). We started running and before long were at
Beer check 2, Donnelly field in East Cambridge. We watched Buttler drive up and down the street for a bit, then he parked and we drank the PBR from his car.
Dry Hose encouraged pack to put on their beer jackets by drinking more, since he had learned somehow that on-in would be outside. There was much disappointment at not going to Courtside. Some of us briefly considering mutinee-ing and going there anyway, but cooler heads prevailed. We talked about how alcohol makes you feel warmer while actually bringing your core temperature down, but how it probably wasn't cold enough for anyone to actually get hypothermia. It was decided that drinking more was indeed the safest/best course of action.
The next leg of trail was fairly uneventful, or not, I don't know I was in the back walking and drinking a beer I had tucked into my sleeve. Pack stayed comfortably within range while Dry Hose and I walked and drank and saw silly front runners get fish hooked back to the back of pack. We headed South past Mass Ave.
was Fort Point park. We hung around for a little waiting for bagcar, or something. I attempted to mount one of the cannons in the park to sit on it and overlook the park, but fell off the side. Luckily no one saw. I then re-mounted it better. Pizza got there and we began a long pizza and beer filled circle. Comments included that it was the ok-est trail of the year, and that the hares had achieved a rare 5 out of 7 trail. We called in FRB (STFF), FBI (Popo), backsliders (Stick it to the Brothers). Accusations included the hares for getting snared, and Wonka for moving back to Boston. We accused those who didn't wear enough clothes to the cold trail. We honor down-downed Virgin Caroline for not dying or leaving during trail, like the other 2 virgins we had started with. We accused Stick it to the Brothers of not hashing since the Nixon administration. We accused Testicular Mechanics of actually dressing properly for trail, both in terms of warmth and theme, which are both very out of character for him. Other accusations were made. At some point we were done with both the normal and ridiculous accusations, so we moved on to the preposterous accusations. QMQ was re-j'accused of stupid stuff he did many trails ago, because why not. Buttler was honored for giving up with much grace on a song that he unsuccessfully attempted. We all agreed that a Wiki attempt to stumble through it would have gone more poorly. We eventually got to hash religion and did the "ah fuck it" version.
We then took a road soda-ey walk over to another arcade bar around Central, where we drank more and fed the broken Mario Kart clone too many tokens that it never registered.