Missed a hash? Catch up on all the trash here...
|The Shiggy Trail
(over 7 years ago)
Hares: +2 Coonass, Dazed and Confused
Bag Car: Just Hayley
Wankers: Bend Over Mommy, Accidental An*l
Start: Brown bag start at the Newton Center T stop
Beer Check: 416-492 Hammond Park Pkwy (parking lot of Congregation Mishkan Tefila)
Pack: The Buttler Hit It, Yankee Pay $5 More, Necrophiliac Jack, Friar F*ck, 5" Penalty, Tw*t My Mom, Tw*t Tart, Mexican Humping Queen, On Your Back, Screaming Japanese Girl, Grease My Monkey's Nuts, Peppermint P*ssy, Nice T*ts, The 2nd C*mming, Bisexual Bondage B*tch, Dribbles, Goes Down on Buoys, Bondage Barbie, Yellow D*ck Gnome, An*l Beads, Stretch P*ssy, Legally Bound & Gagged, Taint My Problem, E = I'm a D*uche, C*ms Early, Goat Throat, C*mlocker, Just Erin, Just Dan, Just Melody, Just Ryan, Just Paul, Just Dan, Virgin Ray, Virgin Jess
(This is my first hash trash, so if I spelled your name wrong, or left you off, well too bad)
So the pack started gathering train-by-train and the locals stared on in bewilderment as we congregated in our circus socks with our brown bags—or was it because Buttler paced around shirtless, I don't know. But what I do remember is Coonass leading the chalk talk as he had a few special marks to introduce, including the use of a triangle as the flour version of BVC and a turkey, eagle, and chicken split. And a CJ for circle jerk.
The hares left and the pack waited for what we thought was the required 10 minutes. However, no less than five minutes after the pack was away, Necrophiliac Jack managed to snare the hares. To help us pass the time as we waited the five minutes, Goat Throat led the pack in a singing of Every Day is Wednesday in the middle of an intersection. We wrapped up our song and resumed trail, continuing along more side streets (wasn't this supposed to be the shiggy trail?) to Beacon St. where we finally ducked into Hammond Park.
We zig-zagged around the park and the pack ended up splitting between those willing to dash through the poison ivy and low brush and those who wanted to tread carefully. Trail led up to a fence that separated the park from the green line tracks and from here we had a one-foot wide dirt ledge to walk along, or we could trudge through the swamp. Impatient with squeezing between trees and the fence, I chose the latter. We eventually emerged from this shiggy (finally!) area and came upon Hammond Park Pkwy, and the beer check.
The beer check was notable for Just Ryan taking off his shirt, causing Necrophiliac Jack to refund his beer. What a waste. Hares were already away before any of us got to the check so when it came time to pick trail back up, nobody had a clue where to go. Someone finally saw a mark across the street and we plunged into the other side of Hammond Park, traversing the woods. We came upon what I thought looked to be a botanical garden of sorts and I immediately realized that the circular shape of the garden paths made this the location of the circle jerk. Sure enough a minute later I heard two people shouting on-on and I made the decision to follow the on-ons coming from the back of the garden, outside the region of the paths. Success. We continued on the trail and found a fence that we thought was closed shut. Buttler proceeded to climb the fence while Grease My Monkey's Nuts wandered around looking for an edge to circumvent. Should've waited though as C*mlocker found a latch and opened the gate right up.
Out of the shiggy, we followed a false trail, where Necrophiliac Jack spotted the manhole that he came into--err out of on the "follow the sewer tunnel" trail last year. We returned to the last check the find the rest of the pack emerging from the circle jerk and through the fence and we continued up another street. This started a deathmarch along Beacon Street, long enough that I was convinced we'd encounter a check back. But my intuition was wrong this time as trail led to the edge of the Chestnut Hill Reservoir.
Here was the site of the turkey, eagle, chicken split with turkey taking the long way around the reservoir, chicken taking the short way, and eagle going through the reservoir. A number of us thought about taking the plunge, but didn't until Yankee Pay $5 More offered to carry phones, trail notes, pants, etc. At this point Goat Throat, Buttler, C*ms Early, and myself handed Yankee our valuables and jumped into the very warm water. I bailed pretty quickly as my sneakers were weighing me down too much and Butter and C*ms Early also got out of the water shortly after, but Goat Throat made it to the other side where we met back up with Yankee and walked the rest of the way to Cleveland Circle. It was here that Goat commented that he "should probably put his pants back on." From Cleveland Circle, Buttler craniumed off to 2nd C*mming's apartment while Goat and Yankee crossed the street to Mary Ann's. All were wrong though as trail headed up to Roggie's for the on-in.
I missed the start of circle, so the only comment on trail I took down was my own: that it was a nice trail, so nice that I was able to cleanse myself of the shiggy from Saturday's moon trail (if you haven't heard, it was a seven-mile trail through nothing but woods, swamps, and a junkyard with five beer checks). Next was the dementing of the two virgins. Nice T*ts made Virgin Jess come, and we learned that her favorite sexual position is the reverse cowgirl. Stretch P*ssy made Virgin Ray come and he couldn't remember what his first blow job tasted like, but his favorite barnyard animal is the rooster. Apparently because he loves the c*ck. At this point, 5" Penalty told someone (a virgin maybe?) that the hash is "a judgement-free zone. F*ggot!"
Our DFL at this point was An*l Beads, who showed up 30 minutes after everyone else. He claimed that as he ran through the botanical garden, he was intercepted by "two sweet little old bitties with a dog." They asked him if he was part of "that running group" and then told him that he was not allowed to be in there. They told him that they had called the BC police and the real cops. AB just brushed them off and proceeded along trail, but no less than a few minutes after coming through the gate did a police cruiser drive up very slowly next to him. The cops asked him if he was part of that Hash House Harriers group and said that some women had called complaining of kids drinking and doing drugs in the park. AB told the cops that he had not been doing drugs, which was apparently enough for them (note, he did not deny that he had been drinking). Hopelessly lost at this point, he asked the cops how to get back to a main road, but that was no help, so he called the hotline, got the location, mapped it on his phone, and saw he was two miles away. What a pisser.
The FRB and FBIs were Goes Down on Buoys and Just Ryan, but the circle had trouble figuring out which one was which, so they were both declared FBIs and C*mlocker was declared FRB.... Shortly after this, someone shouted shots fired, which somehow resulted in Coonass and 2nd C*mming performing a reverse cowgirl on the floor. Necrophiliac Jack was accused of refunding, which he tried blaming on Just Ryan for running shirtless, but that's hashmanlike behavior. He also was accused of finding his manhole on trail, so he did a triple down-down.
Coonass and Dazed and Confused were accused of being snared. Legally Bound and Gagged, Bisexual Bondage B*tch, Tw*t Tart, Screaming Japanese Girl, Taint My Problem and Nice T*ts were accused of backsliding. Then at least a dozen hashers were accused of wearing marathon shirts and/or socks. Just Paul drank for trying to name himself Tricky Dicky during chalk talk (we'll take care of your name, alright?). Then all the Justs drank for being Justs.
Next we tried naming Just Ryan. We learned that he's from Maine, he's a climber, he likes to put his fingers in cracks, and he assaulted a civilian on his first hash by smacking her *ss. We also learned that he's a LARPer. Suggestions included Dust, Small Balls, Tent Pole Too Short, Shivel Shot Score!, Tent Rage, Kitty Tent, Puppy Tent, Stuff Sack, and D*uchebag. Nothing stuck so he was thrown out.
Buttler accused the hares of leaving chalk behind on trail, but the chalk was actually 2nd C*mming's, so Buttler drank for the false accusation. On Your Back was introduced as a transplant from China. she was asked to tell a joke, which was something about Moses in a desert talking to God. Nice T*ts tried naming Just Dan, which upset Just Hayley because she was the one who brought him into the hash and thought she should be named before him (sorry, not necessarily how it works). But we didn't try to name him as the pizza was out and circle had gone on long enough. Hash religion was sung, pizza was consumed, and the drinking continued.
-Tw*t My Mom
P.S. The World Cup Hash/69 Hash is next Wednesday. Don't know what to wear? Maybe these pictures will provide some inspiration. Or scroll down to the bottom of this page. I guess now we know the real reason Yankee's heading out there next week.... (mildly SFW)
|April Moon Hash
(over 7 years ago)
Hares: Bloody P*ssy (Brigham Tongue), Cocksmith (The Buttler Hit It)
Bag Car: Accidental An*l
RA: Tw*t My Mom
Wangers: Better Late Than Pregnant, C*m Locker, Fat Box (Willy Wonka and the Backdoor Factory)
Pre-lube: J.J. Mulligan's, Braintree
On-in: Casa de Brothers Just (Scott, Brad, and Kyle)
Weather: mid-60s to mid-50s as the night wore on; overcast but not raining although it did sprinkle at one point (in the graveyard, of course!)
Pack: Bolitas An*ales, Bring Out the Gimp, Peppermint P*ssy, Yankee Pay $5 More, Octop*ssy, Bondage Barbie, Spitz, Immaculate Er*ction, Just Scott, Just Brad, Just Kyle, The Crying Gay (I Eat Tea Bags), Tongue Me Please, e=I'm a Douche
Well, we got started very late. The hares were wicked disorganized if I do say so myself, sheesh. And then everyone wanted to visit and take pictures! But seeing as I'm one of the hares I can only describe what I heard from trail, and where it went.
Soooo … trail started out through the municipal parking lot and up some side streets to Thayer Academy where there was a song check outside the `edmaster's office. I can only hope they sang something appropriate to the Tigers. Then, trail ran across the athletic fields, past the track, and up by where the Thayer cross-country course runs, before craniuming over towards the lake. There was a check with a false that led up towards Braintree High School. Peppermint P*ssy was in the front of the pack up to this point, when she went the wrong way. Oops.
Next, trail cut down south for a block or so before going through a graveyard, and over a very tall fence. I am pleased to report that all hashers made it over the fence, despite some protestations (well, one could just as easily walk around if one were so inclined). Although trail ran along the beach and included a song check, for some reason everyone skipped out on this but managed to find trail when it left the municipal beach. From here, it was a pretty straight shot (with a view check, which, not surprisingly, no one understood) to the first beer check which was behind an abandoned building.
Now the next leg of trail was interesting, mainly because it was unsufficiently scouted. After running down the main roads a bit, trail went over a bridge, along a river (on what the hares swore was public property but some abutters had other ideas and hassled the pack a bit), through a bunch of brambles and sh*t. Now, Cocksmith swore that there was a way to get through this to a public park ahead. I had no idea that I would get cut up so much that would still have scratches on my legs a week later, but, well, at that point it was too late to turn back! Eventually we all emerged on the other side. The pack, when running through here, found a wooden ladder with three steps that they took with them and apparently used in all sorts of places (like crossing a stream, climbing a fence, etc.) to the point where they apparently wondered if it had been placed there on purpose to ensure completion of the rest of trail!
After emerging from the woods and going through a park, the trail crossed a major road, wound behind some buildings by another lake (there was a fabulous view from here, if anyone stopped to see it), across a looooong parking lot to a check by the railroad tracks. Apparently no one ran the false, because again, where Cocksmith is involved, trail is going to involve live railroad tracks. Well, no one was killed. At the top of the hill emerging from the tracks there was a HUGE break in the fence, under which one could easily climb. But instead, the pack apparently used the ladder to climb the gigantic fence.
Then, trail went through another cemetery where there was a CB3, which somehow managed to lose the pack for about 15 minutes. I mean, you came from one direction, there is a CB the other direction, it's not like it's a CB27 or anything like that … and you're in a graveyard where the marks are on ROADS and not grass. I mean, how hard can it be? Ha, well anyway eventually the pack found the trail, including the zombie check, claimed that they didn't know they were on trail but well at some point they found the beer check which was among extraordinarily large piles of composting leaves and other organic detritus (it was the Braintree Municipal Leaf Composting Site, to be official). I am proud to report that Peppermint P*ssy was FRB at both of the beer checks! She had a good nose for where trail was going today, apparently.
The hares got a bit of a late start due to leaving both cranium lamps in bag car when assisting bag car with the beer. Oops. Well, after the leaf composting site the trail went down a couple of residential streets down a hill into a park. There was a check by some tennis courts where dirt trails ran in two directions. Now at this point, yours truly got somewhat lost because there were more trails but I had scouted during the day and could no longer see them. So, I decided to cut and run, but then wound up arguing with my co-hare and the end result is that the pack was literally about 200 feet from us at a couple points from here on out, but apparently didn't realize it. This is why I generally prefer to scout trail in its entirety, preferably twice, before haring but that just didn't work out logistically this time, unfortunately.
So, from here on out we laid check after check, t*t check after t*t check, and basically took the main roads up past the shopping center to the Braintree T, where we *again* managed to get lost by turning the wrong way out of the station (the exit Cocksmith had scouted was not the one I was familiar with). I am really not sure how we didn't get caught. One of the Brothers Just saw us, I can no longer remember which one, but he wasn't on trail so we told him to get his butt back on trail. I don't count that and besides, by the time he hopped the wall we could have laid a t*t check to stop him in his tracks, ha! Eventually we figured out the right way to go and laid trail to the end.
Circle was in the backyard, and, yes, the parents of the Brothers Just were watching from the driveway. Hopefully the kids will be let out again to play after this …
The hares led the pack in a stirring rendition of "Follow the Hares" even if Cocksmith did have to try and make trouble by suggesting that his wife won't be coming back from South Africa. Well, we'll see ...
Comments on trail (note that I don't really understand all of these, Gimp was taking notes and he even claimed he wasn't very good at it, so I say, don't quit your day job. Or, let Douche be scribe (hope you get a job soon, Douche!)):
Announcements … GAP is sold out, NURD is still open. Well, considering it's on today this news is a bit late!
The next moon hash is May 22nd at Tea Bags' something. It looks like rash. It's probably house.
Following circle, we tried to order pizza only to discover that literally every place in the area was closed. Apparently Braintree shuts down of a Sunday night, around 8:30pm. As I write this now it sounds a bit ludicrous but it was annoying at the time. Anyway, Applebee's was open and willing to accept us so we all caravanned down there where more hilarity ensued. We christened Bolitas Anales "Rough McNasty" as a moon hash name but as it didn't happen in circle I'm not sure it counts. I will leave that to the powers-that-be to decide. Apparently BA is moving to Kentucky (which we all agreed is more exotic than Africa) for school, after spending the summer in California. BA, we will miss you!
Heard before and after the hash:
|Marathon Monday 2010
(over 7 years ago)
Apologies in advance for the sketchy nature of this write-up. I'm not even sure why I'm doing it other than that I promised I would.
Pack at Beer Check: (as far as I can remember it ... I know I am missing a ton and I probably have people in here who didn't c*m!) Peppermint P*ssy, High An*s, C*m is Kosher, Grease My Monkey's Nuts, Puff'n'Stuff, The Buttler Hit It, Brigham Tongue, Sp*nk Me May I Have My Mother, Mexican H*mping Queen, Be All That You Can Blow, Stick It to the Bros, Screaming Japanese Girl, Bleeps Sweeps and Creeps, N*pples Erectus, Bend Over Mommy, Goat Throat, Uncle John, Donkey Ho Te, Friar F*ck, Maid of Honor, GAP, Bondage Barbie, Stops to Pet the P*ssy, Sugar Plum Fairy, P*ss Stop, Lube Me In, Yellow D*ck Gnome, +2 Coonass, Goes Down on Buoys, Taj My Hole, Accidental An*l, Pbvzzzzz, C*ms to the Rescue, C*m Locker, C*ms Alone, Willy Wonka and the Backdoor Factory
"Hare": Brigham Tongue
Pack at Circle: (there were more in & out and at Crossroads but I can't even come close to remembering everyone. Fortunately, my memories of circle were aided by the Facebook pictures of one of the virgins. Unfortunately, these pictures are on Facebook): Peppermint P*ssy, The Buttler Hit It, Brigham Tongue, Sp*nk Me May I Have My Mother, Bleeps Sweeps and Creeps, N*pples Erectus, Goat Throat, GAP, Bondage Barbie, Stops to Pet the P*ssy, Sugar Plum Fairy, DEEP Black Hole, `Edmaster, P*ss Stop, Save a Tree Ride a Cowboy, Goes Down on Buoys, Taj My Hole, Accidental An*l, Immaculate Er*ction, e=I'm a Douche, Willy Wonka and the Backdoor Factory, Stick It to the Bros, Spitz
Giving out beer at the m*rathon … what can I say, it's harder than you might think! Lube Me In had arrived there quite early to get a good parking spot on Comm. Ave, which he used to power a flat-screen TV off of his car battery. Nice setup, and it allowed us to watch the coverage of the r*ce, the better to see when the elites would be coming by.
The only reason I am bothering to write trash about this at all is that this group of strange people handed out papers in sealed envelopes. The contents of this are pretty hilarious and there is no way I can do it justice except to quote certain segments. At one point I was loudly summoned from the grill where I was cooking some wieners because, apparently, it was very important that I write this up in hash trash. Please note that I am not correcting for grammar:
For more information or perhaps amusement check out www.hear-the-truth.com.
So anyway I had marked "trail" from Crossroads to Sp*nk Me's, because we had so much leftover beer and the bar was crowded, but we wanted to make sure everyone could find the place.
At some point in the evening, I was inside, something happened to trigger a circle. Someone called "And the hares!" and someone yelled out that I was the hare. Well, whatever, I laid the closest thing to a trail for the day and I didn't mind an excuse to drink …. For some reason Goat drank with me. Can't remember why.
Comments on trail:
Hmmm, what else happened in circle?
People who had giveaway socks drank. People who wore m*rathon shirts drank and I drank because I thought that Bros, who had abandoned circle to go hit on someone was wearing a very similar color but it turned out not to be the same.
Visitors drank. I drank because I'm moving. Someone accused SATRAC of having new shoes. She swore they were not new. GAP smelled one and proclaimed it stank. When asked for a second opinion I agreed. It wasn't the worst-smelling shoe ever but most certainly did not smell new. When SATRAC complained that I said her shoe was stinky I asked if she wanted to drink out of it or not!
Oh, and we had virgins! Just Melody apparently made them all c*m, and Peppermint P*ssy attempted to dement them but for the most part they were not cooperative:
Then we all drank a bunch more. And GAP had an 8:30 bus he was trying to catch. Despite asking the time every 15 minutes since about 6pm, and claiming he wanted to get on the bus early, at about 8:25 I saw him sitting on the floor with his laptop plugged in and yelled at him that he needed to go. Not sure if he caught his bus or not; I sure hope he did!
Well that's all I can remember. And there goes 10 minutes of your life you're not getting back!
- Brigham Tongue
|2010 Boston Marathon Hash
(over 7 years ago)
RA: The 2nd Cumming
Hares: An*l Beads, Maid of Honor, C*m Locker, Fire in the Hole
Pre-lube: Hennessy's upstairs, Boston
On-in: Kitty O'Shea's upstairs, Boston
Weather: Varied! Started off high 40s and drizzling, ended cloudy and in the 50s
1 Girl 2 Cups, Accidental An*l, Aim For My Chin, Be All That You Can Blow, Bend Over Mommy, Better Late Than Pregnant, Blows My Mind, Bondage Barbie, Brigham Tongue, Bring Out the Gimp, Catheter the Great, C*cktologist, Coochie Monster NumNumNum, Crucifux, C*ms Alone, Deaf Dumb and Do Me, D*ck Jockey, Dirty Latte Sanchez, Double Flush, Dribbles, Drippy Spigot, Dumbledocker, E=I'm a Douche, Five Inch Penalty, Gay Pride, Goes Down on Buoys, Grease My Monkeys Nuts, Hare Club for Queers, Harpoontang, Headmaster, High An*s, Hoover McSucknF*ck, Horse's *ss, I Eat C*m, I Eat TBags, I Heart Poo, I Licked Butts, Just Jess, Just Becca, Just Hayley, Just Jeremy, Just Lesley, Just Sandra, Just Susan, Kick Me In The Nuts, Krusty the Meat Miser, Lick Hole Ah, Mexican Humping Queen, My Chemical Homance, NAMBLA, Necrophiliac Jack, Nice T*ts, N*pples Erectus, Papa Skwurf, Pat My Fly, Peppermint P*ssy, Pink Thing, Piss Stop, +2 Coonass, P*bic Service Announcement, Puffy, P*ssy Long Stockings , PVBPVbvpbvzzz, Save a Tree Ride a Cowboy, Screaming Japanese Girl, Shawsk*nk, Shorn Scrotum, Sketchy Ho, skibobbitt, Slush Hussy, Snatchsquatch, Spank Me May I Have My Mother, Spoonful of Seamen, Spunk In The Trunk, Stick It To The Bros, Stretch P*ssy, Sucker's Bet, Sugar Plum Fairy, Taj My Hole, Tampon Jelly, The 2nd Cumming, The Buttler Hit It, Time of the Munch, Tw*t My Mom, Used to Live with a Crack Wh*re, Vagetarian, Willy Wonka and the Back Door Factory, Yankee Pay 5 Dollar More, Yellow D*ck Gnome, and You Oughta Blow
69 on the Rectum Scale, Avalanche, Bleeps Sweeps and Creeps, Bobbin for Buttplugs, BORT, Brownie, Brrrggghhhhhh, Chinwacker, Circle Jerkinator, Counterfeit D*ck, Cuffed and Stuffed in da Buff, DEEP Black Hole, Deep Sh*t, Donkey Ho Te, Ear Shot, Fossil, Friar F*ck, Fuwangi Boner, General *ss Pounder, Goat Throat, Ice Princess, International Virgin, Jimmy Crack Wh*re, JuicyPearl, Just Lisa, Just Rachel, Kitty Kitty BANG BANG, Knees Up, Mount Me in the Mud, Mouthful of Girlfriend, My C*ck Is So Long That Even On A Cold Day It Flops Down and Hits The Urinal Biscuit! (Seriously? This is someone's name? I want to know how in the world he got named this and *didn't* like his name!), Nookie Monster, One Drunk Walking, One Hasher At a Time, Peace O Chum, Phantom of the Areola, Pig F*cker, P*ssy Factory, Roscoe Pee C*m Stain, Seizehercooch, Sister Golden Showers, SpongeBath SquarePants, Stops to Pet the P*ssy, Swamp Gravy, Swamp Whine, TheRapist, Two tickets to Pair-a-Thighs, Uncle John, Village Tool, Vincent Van Goat F*cker, Wang Chunks, Watergate and Yoron Weed
Well I would have given myself carpal tunnel typing up all those names if it weren't for the wonders of cut & paste. Where do all you circus freaks c*m from anyway???
M*rathon Saturday: the pack gathered on a cold, drizzly day. To all those people who said it never rained on m*rathon day, thanks a lot! Not much of great interest happened at the pre-lube other than that we got to check out each others' costumes, or in the case of those of us who declared it too cold to wear our costumes, we had to explain this over and over. When I first laid eyes on The 2nd Cumming and from across the room, I thought he was a girl. Not kidding.
Then someone yelled "bag car, 2 minutes" so I chugged the rest of my beer. But bag car was not for another 10 minutes or so, whee. Eventually after piling everything into the three cars, we craniumed up to the Government Center plaza next to the circus tent for chalk talk and introductions. This took about 20 minutes, but luckily it was already warming up at this point. And, perhaps just as luckily, no trapeze artists came flying out of the air to hit any of us. Group photos took another 5 minutes, so let's just say there was no shot of a hare snare on this first leg!
Predictably, after that, we went down the stairs into the Boston Common. I skipped out on the real trail and ran over the ice rink because I thought that was more fun. We had a song check in the middle of the Public Garden, amongst the willows and the tulips and the tourists, singing something about working in Chicago.
From there, trail led out to a check on Beacon Street. For some reason everyone headed outbound on Beacon, but Tea Bags, Tw*t and I decided to head into the Beacon Hill street, figuring it looked more promising. After an on one, Tea Bags saw a true trail, and we were off to the races. And by the races, I mean the footbridge over Storrow where Just Zeth was hanging out at the top with yellow and red shots.
At the end of the bridge there was a check. I followed it east which was really stupid, when I think about it, because clearly we were going along the Esplanade. Someone yelled that we were following marks from the beer mile but actually we weren't since they had been washed away. However, after a two and out, we ran part of the beer mile course up to rejoin the rest of the pack and ran, and ran, and ran, and ran (yes the Esplanade is a deathmarch, if an incredibly scenic one!), until we hit the duck-eagle split which no one including the RA understood at chalk talk. It now made sense. Ducks were supposed to swim across the water to the other side. A couple people (yes, like Goat Throat) actually attempted this but everyone else ran around. And this time, The 2nd Cumming was not able to walk on water (this was the same spot he had run across the ice on the VD trail a few months back. Yes, I remember random sh*t, so better watch out you never know what I might remember about you!).
Crossing at another footbridge, we ran down Dartmouth Street for a while. The entire pack had blown right past a check by some public alleys so a few of us stopped to scope this out. Turns out the pack was right, and trail led up, hung a left on Newbury, where we dodged a lot of bemused civilians in an interesting remake of the Halloweenie hash. A couple people including Bring Out the Gimp tried to cut the corner and run through a church archway only to be blocked by a large metal fence.
We rejoined the rest of the pack in Copley, some of whom were singing something that I can't remember and a couple people were posing on the statue of the hare and the tortoise. After we were done, a bunch of people hit up the row of port-o-potties that were there. One hasher purposefully opened the door on another hasher, prompting a "What the f*ck??" which amused me in passing as we continued on.
Next, we continued through Amtrack Back Bay station where, I think it was Spunk kept telling everyone "Welcome to Boston." I bet the ones who were leaving were thinking something entirely different. On the other side, we temporarily lost the trail before finding that it went through the T station and emerged on a narrow park on the other side. We ran down this for a little while before coming upon an unexpected but very welcome beer check. Apparently the beer check had to be moved from a park a little further away. Not sure why. I think someone said noise, but that didn't make any sense unless the beer check was moved after half the pack was already there. I mean, how much noise can 4 hares and 3 bag cars make? Ok, never mind ...
After enjoying snacks and Sam Adams and continuing to check each other out, the pack departed and ran through where the beer check was supposed to have been. I somehow wound up running into another park where I either had to backtrack or jump the fence. I bet you can guess which one I chose. We continued on for a bit, through a playground, and on through Blackstone Square into Franklin Square where we had a song check. As this one was in the shadow of some huge church, and we hadn't sung it yet, we had a nice long rendition of "Jesus Saves." Free beer!
The pack took off along Brookline Street before someone pointed out that no one had actually seen any marks. I ran up St George Street and happened to glance left into an alley where I saw a mark, and, of course, figured that was the right path. Turns out I was right - after another arrow there was the turkey-eagle split. Now, having been party to inside information that the turkey trail was over 5 miles I decided to run the eagle trail. Yes, sometimes I am a glutton for punishment.
Unfortunately, despite a number of us yelling as loud as we could, most of the pack apparently never found the split and ran the turkey trail instead. I wondered why there were so few people on the eagle trail, because usually most people run the eagle. Unless it's a GAP trail, that is, but we don't have many of those any more.
So one of the first things we ran by was a mental hospital, and P*ssy Long Stockings announced that she worked there. Either that or she lives there and is let out occasionally. So we ran along a bunch of really boring streets then across the Mass Ave Connector. It was around this time that Hare Club spotted a building full of rock salt piles and wondered why no one had run up them, so he and I headed towards them at a full sprint but we both wimped out a bit ... I was scared because I wasn't sure if the salt was going to be so soft that I would sink in, or so hard that I would trip and crash against it and hurt myself again. As it turned out, it was somewhere in between. Whatever. Buttler, showing either no fear or no common sense, take your pick, made it to the top of the pile.
Trail wound back around, down South Bay Ave and past a prison where the hares had chalked "On-Inmates" and "On-K-9" a little while later. Unfortuately the location of the K-9 had changed since they chalked it, and the K-9 decided to bark at us repeatedly. Well, to be fair, I probably would have too had I been in its position. The C.O.s, however, just looked at us with some amusement.
We continued our deathmarch, and turned left through the shiggy behind a tall fence. Emerging on the other side, we saw that trail went up some stairs to an overpass over the highway. We also saw Tea Bags on the other side of a very tall fence yelling "Help!" Of course, there was a door to the fence about three feet from him, but I guess he was having fun playing inmate for a while.
So if I thought the last deathmarch was bad, the next mile or so of trail consisted of running alongside 93. Hare Club didn't make me feel much better at this point when he announced that he knew were the on-in was and it was nowhere near here. Well, not like I didn't know what I was getting myself into. Nice T*ts and I amused ourselves by checking out the smashed up police cruisers to the right of the road, and were a little bummed when we were practically DFL to the beer check. Then I realized it made sense since we had run twice as far as all the turkeys.
Once we finally found trail again we ran through Chinatown, dodging civilians left and right. Someone announced that there was a third beer check by the Barking Crab. At this point, nothing would have surprised me. While we did wind up going that direction, we went through South Station (again welcoming everyone to Boston) and continued up Atlantic to another song check where, again, I forgot what we sang. Well, that's what I get for not writing this up for a week.
From here I was able to follow the pack pretty easily to the end, which turned out to be Kitty O'Sheas. After most everyone had a drink, the RA called us to order and made the hares sit on the ice blocks. They announced that this felt "just awesome." Bullsh*t, bullsh*t ... after a sufficiently long rendition of "The S&M Man" (the best part was when C*m Locker wanted to sing a verse, even though her *ss was on the ice!), we shot the hares with silly string and let them drink.
Then visitors were called in but there were too many of them to sit on the ice, so they were spared. Of everything but the silly string and the drinking, that is.
So we didn't do comments on trail which means I'm just going to make up some comments of my own:
The rest of circle
Heard on trail and after the hash
|New Moon Marathon Hash
(over 7 years ago)
Hares: I Licked Butts, The Crying Gay (Tea Bags)
Bag Car: Mangina (aka "the Boston Strangler")
RA: Tw*t My Mom
Wangers: Better Late Than Pregnant, Accidental Anal
Pre-lube: Tom English's, Dorchester
On-in: Pavilion on the water, near the Bayside Expo Center
On-after: Tom English's, Dorchester
Weather: High 50s and clear
Pack: Sp*rm Dumpster (Buoys), Bloody P*ssy (Brigham), Glitorus (Hare Club), Cocksmith (The Buttler Hit It), Bring Out the Gimp, Bondage Barbie, Aim for My Chin, Willy Wonka and the Backdoor Factory -> Fat Box, Sucker's Bet, The 2nd C*mming, Peppermint P*ssy, Hoover McSucknF*ck, e=I'm a Douche -> Amelia Airfart, Just Megan, 5" Penalty, Yankee Pay $5 More, An*l Beads
Tom English's. Where we would have ended last week's trail if they'd given us a better deal on beer. C'est la vie. So the pack gathered for a drink, and the hares took a good long time to take off, because the pack seemed pretty small. I presume everyone was still recovering from the JP hash the night before, and weren't trying to attend every hash event in the week. Which makes them all way smarter than me.
We circled up in the parking lot next to the bar. Bag car had taken off without the chalk, so luckily Preggers agreed to take it with her. Nothing like wasted chalk.
Since we were ostensibly searching for STD on trail, this was explained to us. Printouts of STD had been printed out and would be used as checks, and two together as t*t checks. This worked pretty well until, I guess, the hares ran out of printouts. I can only wonder what the locals must have thought the next day when they saw pictures of a guy in banana yellow pants all over town.
Anyway after quick introductions we were off! It somehow took us a while to find trail, but it went east through some very nice neighborhoods with well-kept triple-deckers. Eventually we headed south, crossed Dorchester Ave again, and some idiots ran up Whitby Terrace to a checkback (STD used to live at the top of that road). I waited at the bottom. A little while later, we ended up at the first beer check which was in Mangina's backyard, which had a great view of downtown Boston, and was within spitting distance of STD's old place.
The most exciting thing that happened at the beer check is that Willy Wonka sat on a box, which was empty, and collapsed underneath her. She was spontaneously named Fat Box in honor of this event. And I think it's fair to say that she wasn't very pleased by this.
Following the beer check, we charged up to the top of the hill (!!) before, yes, running back down. Well, this is Dorchester. About halfway down was a song check where we sang a few verses of Tampon Factory. It was a pretty sad rendition since no one knew many verses and Gimp sang an exact verse over, like two verses after it had first been sung. Clearly we need to sing this song more often. At the next song check we sang Chicago, which went much better.
Coming back down off the hill, we turned back south onto Pleasant Street. For the first time we crossed over the trail from the previous Sunday. Today's hares had put a check at the bottom of the hill and since we had been up there the previous week, we at least knew trail didn't go that way. Although that would have been pretty devious.
Crossing Dorchester Ave again all the men were held up at a t*t check. Sucker's Bet and I apparently felt more like running than flashing, so we went and found the trail but the men still waited around to see some flesh. Ha. Of course, they caught up with us eventually as there was a check at Savin Hill Ave. I turned right, with Sp*rm Dumpster, figuring we'd go somewhere around Savin Hill Park. He ran right to the top of the hill and into the park then had to stop because he had no cranium lamp. Oops.
At the top of the park there was a check, and trail led down the far side, to a beer check at the bottom of the hill. We drank until we realized we were a bit chilly then craniumed off into the night, following the hares. And not following last week's marks. Not too far along there was a d*ck check that looked to me like a dog's bone and I didn't quite process what it was until right around the time that a d*ck was whipped out!
From here, trail went down a dead end street and across Morrissey Blvd. Only a few people were nearly killed, most of us waited for a good break in traffic. But we were excited by SN, which meant the shot check was near. Then somehow we managed to get lost and wandering around in the shiggy. I did get to see a beautifully naturalized daffodil.
Anyway the bottle of whatever ... whiskey of some sort but someone said it was American which would make it bourbon, no? Well whatever, it was at the Vietnam War Memorial. So we stopped there and drank most of the bottle before running on a lovely deathmarch along the water, up to a check. Trail actually ran across another pretty big road to a large grassy area where we lost it for a while and picked it up again in a parking lot. Then there was another t*t check and this time along I decided to help the guys out so I said "wait for the cars" to which someone responded "wait for them to go, or for them to get here!" Not wanting to be called in for indecent exposure, I had meant the former.
Moving along ... trail went through the shiggy for a bit before another quite long deathmarch in front of all the condos over to the on-in. Bag Car was parked a bit away so a bunch of us went to unload. Helpfully, someone had abandoned a shopping cart so we loaded it up with bags and Douche pushed it across the field, with some difficulty. Something about wheels not being designed for soft surfaces.
Comments on trail:
The rest of circle:
Tired, cold, and trying not to become too wrecked before the beer mile a number of us traipsed back to Tom English's and had pizza from Pantry Pizza next door before heading out for a relatively early night. Somewhere on trail Hoover had found a license plate, complete with license plate holder. This is still in my car, as a matter of fact...
Heard on trail and after the hash:
- Bloody P*ssy