Missed a hash? Catch up on all the trash here...
|Johnny Cash Hash
(about 8 years ago)
(because Johnny Cash is cooler than worms)
Hares: I Licked Butts, The Crying Gay
Bag Car: Bloody P*ssy
RA: Tw*t My Mom
Pack: e=I'm a Douche, Cocksmith, Goat Throat, Tw*t My Mom, Bondage Barbie, Yankee Pay $5 More, 5" Penalty
Wanger: Bend Over Mommy
Pre-lube: Casey's, Somerville
On-in: Under the Charlestown Ave Bridge in Cambridge
On-after: Courtside, Cambridge
Weather: Lousy!! 50 degrees, raining and windy; the middle of a Noreaster that continues to pummel the state
A small pack gathered at Casey's, much to the chagrin of the hares who were hoping to recycle the trail for marathon. Suckers. I was so happy to discuss Don Cherry with 5" and $5 that I nearly let my parking meter expire. Slumerville has apparently decided that it thinks it is Boston, with meters running until 8pm.
Right as we were leaving for bag car, Goat Throat showed up. Great timing, I expect running trail in the rain with a bag is probably not the most fun …
So I have no idea where trail went or what happened on trail. No one would tell me. So here is what else happened:
The beer check was in a sandbox under a roof in Ryan Playground, near the big Sullivan Square rotary. Since it was rainy, windy, and cold, we didn't stay there that long. Just long enough to drink a beer, eat some cheesy poofs, and all shout out "Moose" at the same time. And I got to relay my favorite story of an out-of-stater trying to pronounce a Massachusetts name: Cochituate came out "Cock-a-twatty." Not kidding.
So when the hares said that there was a check in front of bag car, what they neglected to note was that it was a t*t check. And of course, Goat refused to carry the beer to the car until he saw some t*ts. Well, he got me back later.
The on-in was under the bridge that connects Charlestown to Cambridge. I was quite amused sitting in my warm car watching the pack wander around through the park trying to find trail. Suckers. Although they had all acquired hubcaps on trail, apparently from running through a recycling center.
We quickly circled up and after quickly serenading the hares and performing an abbreviated version of "I used to work in Chicago" (I will note that both of these songs allowed the Crying Gay to brag about the size of his c*ck, prompting cries of `b*llshit, B*llshit…), we proceeded on to comments on trail:
We finished up circle and quickly proceeded to the on-after to drink overpriced PBR and eat very doughy pizza. But the bartender had some amazing facial hair going on. And the Bruins beat the Devils!
Heard before and then after the hash:
- Bloody P*ssy
|March Madness Hash
(about 8 years ago)
Hello everyone - since none of the regular scribes were there, I am attempting to scribe. At the Newtowne, I took notes on a paper plate (which I still have) but started half way through the virgins. I filmed the opening circle so I'll be able to get the attendance list that way.
Nips/Jamaican - do you remember the names of the virgins. I got the last two. I remember a lot of them were with the Army and not supposed to be drinking.
Did anybody know where trail was supposed to go. Hares - this is your chance to set the record straight, since I'll have not choice but to believe you. As usual, I caught up with the people who were lost - Oh wait, that was most of the pack at some point.
Anyway - going through a particularly bumpy patch of sky, but it's not that much worse than the Silver Line to the airport.
Someone responded with:
For the virgins, I cant remember their real names.... all I can really remember is:
|St. Patty's Day Hash
(about 8 years ago)
Hares: Dribbles, I Eat Tea Bags
Bag Car: Bondage Barbie
Pre-lube: Hanc*ck Tavern, Quincy
On-in: Cagney's, Quincy
Weather: Lousy!! About 38 degrees and pouring rain; the middle of a lovely Noreaster
RA: Bend Over Mommy
Wangers: e=I'm a Douche, Tw*t My Mom
Pack: Brigham Tongue, Ski Bobbit, C*mlocker, Bend Over Mommy, The Buttler Hit It, Wee Willy W*nker, Virgin Edward, Stick It to the Bros, Stops to Pet the P*ssy¬
OK, well I am surprised that I even made it to this trail between the hangover from the Seacoast Green Dress run the day before, and the fact that the weather was just flat out lousy. And apparently no one can be bothered to go to Quincy which is sad, because there are some great trails down there.
Bend Over Mommy was channeling Goat Throat by wearing a skin-tight cellophane (or whatever, it was red plastic) number which she thought might keep her dry. I, on the other hand, like an idiot declined to wear my waterproof jacket instead opting for a sweatshirt that was more like 20 pounds of dead weight within about 15 minutes.
After a quick chalk talk on the back of Buttler's jacket, we were off to find trail. Happily for everyone the hares weren't trying to confuse us so we pretty quickly found trail, and ran through the neighborhoods and a pretty cool stretch through some campus before commencing what felt like a deathmarch past an elementary school and up to what appeared to be a beer check, because we saw bag car, the hares' bags of flour, and a trail leading into some sort of marsh park. However, we couldn't find the hares anywhere, and really who cares about the hares but we couldn't find the BEER.
Barbie called and confirmed that the hares were indeed in the park somewhere so we wandered in. Eventually I quit trying to avoid walking through the puddles since my feet were already soaked. We found the hares (and Guinness and whiskey!) by an old cemetery facing out deeper into the marsh. Apparently that is where trail was supposed to go, but what had been navigable mud when scouting had turned into an impassable river, and luckily for us our hares weren't *that* crazy.
So after the beer check we headed back out to the road. Virgin Edward found an unopened Bud Lite on trail and proceeded to throw it away (for which he later drank beer that wasn't so sk*nk). After running down the road a bit, the remainder of the trail was mostly shaggy – it cut into the marsh and ran essentially along the edge of it. Jumping over the natural and man-made culverts was great fun … for a while. At one point along here I made the comment that the only part of me that wasn't soaking wet yet was my *ss, then I got lazy and nearly didn't make it over one of the culverts. I can tell you, landing *ss first in one of those would definitely have gotten it wet in one of the most unpleasant ways possible!
Emerging on the other side of the marsh near a school we came across C*mlocker who had lost trail. We found it, though (the more eyes the better when the flour is quickly washing away) and ran through what appeared to be cross country trails for a while until we lost trail again. Happily, upon gaining higher ground we figured out where the pack must have emerged and C*mlocker saw a mark cleverly hidden behind a tree. A bit too cleverly, I am so glad she was there!
We ran past where the January moon hash ended (this has all happened before, and will happen again!) and back down the hill. Cheaters that we are, we knew one of the directions off a check led nowhere so we followed the real trail up to 3A where we found empty bags of flour, a couple faint chalk arrows, and not long after were on hare (Tea Bags), and walked the remainder of trail (which he promised was a half mile and was actually more like a mile!). Note to future hares – when laying flour trail in a monsoon, you need about 1 ½ times as much flour as usual (as I had discovered the day before!).
Arriving at Cagney's was very exciting mainly because we could all change into some dry clothes. The walkers' trail today involved walking 4 blocks to the T, taking the T one stop, and walking to the on-in. Nice. I'm surprised the walkers hadn't started in on the sandwiches & stuff while waiting for our soaking wet butts to arrive!
After everyone who wanted to had changed, Mommy called us to circle.
Comments on trail:
Today we had one virgin, who apparently came to part of trail last week but was never demented. Virgin Edward claimed that the internet made him c*m (that old story again). He would "of course" get off a bus full of homosexuals, and while he was a math major did not know the square root of 69 although he did get the joke pretty quickly. Other good quotes: "That's $1 in front of a v*gina"
When asked if he would help his uncle Jack off the roof: "You've got it! He's my uncle, man, that's family!"
If he were a male sheep he would f*ck a female sheep (really, what sort of a question is that? That's just silly). His favorite sexual position is reverse cowgirl.
Out of a pack of nine, we had three visitors (Ski Bobbit from Old Fahts, Stops to Pet the P*ssy¬ from Burlington, and Wee Willy W*nker from White House H3). Thank goodness for the visitors! Dribbles drank as an ex-co-GM and so Tea Bags drank for being her co-hare, and Buttler and Mommy drank for also being current GMs.
Accusations and other stuff that went down in circle:
After circle we all attacked the piles of sandwiches. Apparently cold can make you hungry! Not long after we finished, Tw*t and Douche showed up to help us eat the leftover food.
Heard before and then after the hash:
Sorry this was late, and I'll be missing a few due to sprained ankle and travel, but I'll see you all at the hash on Easter weekend!
- Brigham Tongue
(about 8 years ago)
Hares: Spitz, Mexican Humping Queen
Bag Car: Just Amanda
Pre-lube: Beantown Pub, Boston
On-in: Good Bar, Boston
Weather: Gorgeous!! Sunny and mid-50s. Spring has sprung!
Pack: Brigham Tongue, The Buttler Hit It, Hoover McSuck'nF*ck, Sugar Plum Fairy, C*m Fly With Me, S*xtra Credit, Just Kara, Virgin Brad, Virgin Jeff, Shawsk*nk, Puff n' Stuff, Grease My Monkey's Nuts, Just Stan, Yellow D*ck Gnome, Lick Hole-a, Virgin Alicia, Virgin Kristen, Tw*t My Mom, Virgin Hayley, +2 Coonass, Virgin Melody, N*pples Erectus, Blows My Mind, Horse's *ss, Stick It To the Bros, Floppy D*ck, Bleeps, Sweeps, & Creeps, Jimmy Crack Wh*re, Nice T*ts, Better Late Than Pregnant, Just Kyle, Just Scott, Necrophiliac Jack, Just Lesley, Just Danielle, Virgin Rob, D*ck Jockey, Bondage Barbie, I Licked Butts, Goes Down On Buoys, Far From F*cking, Immaculate Er*ction, Taj My Hole, The 2nd C*mming, I Eat Tea Bags, Target Practice, Just Patrick
Late C*mmers: Time of the Munch, Peppermint P*ssy, An Inconvenient Poop, Vagetarian
Wangers: Bend Over Mommy, Willy Wonka and the Backdoor Factory, Jamaican Me C*m
I am sure I missed some people in the headcount, this was officially the biggest pack of the year so far and probably the biggest since the nice weather last fall when we kept ending at the Hong Kong.
So we started out front of Beantown Pub, and ran past BBAG's place where, for like the third time in a row, there wasn't a beer check, a song check, or any such thing. Trail then ran through the Boston Common up to a check back; the trail ran parallel to Beacon up to the next set of stairs, then up Joy Street, and down Mount Vernon to a check. Not surprisingly, we ran through Louisberg Square then back up the hill and around for a while. At a certain point a small contingent ran up the hill at a check, and yelled "On-on" while some others had found a check at the bottom of the hill. Either the first set of runners were nuts, or the pack managed to shortcut trail and find a check.
Not long after that we raced across Cambridge Street, up some stairs, past some shops and over to a beer check in the park near all the hospitals. For the first time in a long time, the pack wasn't freezing cold after five minutes so this beer check lasted a little while.
Upon heading out, we quickly found that trail went across Staniford and up some cool twisty steps to a song check at what appears to be a mental health hospital. In the hurry to find trail after, there was a t*t check at the bottom of the stairs after which pack got really, really lost … I finally found what I think was trail heading out essentially backwards from the t*t check, and around the corner, to what looked like a crossed-out mark through a parking garage. Tea Bags and I ran though there and found nothing, but ran far enough along that we finally found a check. Trail led into the North End from there, and around a little bit. At one point there was a CB4 or some such, so we marked the check and ran the only other direction we could – I was at the front of the pack with Bros and Tea Bags and we literally ran right past the beer check up to Christopher Columbus Park before doubling back and realized that the beer check was at the little park across from the Living Room. We stayed at the beer check long enough for Buttler to break a 40 he'd found on trail (apparently another sex toy), prompting a yell of "The Buttler Did It!." It was also at this beer check that An Inconvenient Poop deigned to join us, and I think I saw Peppermint and Vagetarian here for the first time as well.
Pack was away not long after the hares, after Nice T*ts saw people in apartments on the phone looking down at us. I was running with nearly a full cup of beer at this point, so luckily there was a song check by the Aquarium. After this I got a little lost with all the crazy cow path streets, but we did have an RIP song check outside the Hong Kong (oh, I have so many happy memories there…), and perhaps not incidentally when trying to find trail we ran right past a fire truck with a bunch of not-too-shabby-looking firefighters. Unfortunately this was an unnecessary detour because we'd gone the wrong way from the check and missed the on-in. And so it goes.
Into the basement of the bar we went; it was great because it had both strobe lights (which were turned off at some point), and a stripper pole. And some random guy, probably either from the press or the FBI, took a picture of us halfway through circle. If you're not afraid, maybe you should be ….
Comments on trail:
Just Patrick had hashed a few more times than that, so he was called in for naming. Names ranged from Whiskey D*ck to Little Bunny F*ck You to Undercover C*nt to the eventual winner – Yankee Pay Five Dollar More.
(about 8 years ago)
Hares: Necrophiliac Jack, Shawsk*nk
Bag Car: Accidentally An*l
RA: Bend Over Mommy
Pre-lube: Hogan's Run, Brighton
On-in: Jack's Sister's Place, Cambridge (NOT Whitney's Café!)
Weather: Cloudy, mid-40s, and windy
Pack: High An*s, Virgin Danielle, Tongue Me Please, Brigham Tongue, Luck Hole-ah, +2 Coon*ss, The Buttler Hit It, Mexican Humping Queen, Just Carol, Just Stan, Virgin Cassandra, Virgin Paul, e=I'm a Douche, Tw*t My Mom, Just Patrick, Bend Over Mommy, Rocky Mountain Wh*re, Stick It To the Bros, Mooseknuckles, Sugar Plum Fairy
Jack, as we'll hear later, had a birthday the day before this hash. What on earth possessed him to sign up to hare the day after his birthday is beyond me but anyway about 3:10 the hares sauntered in, and were away shortly thereafter. On a side note, my first experience with Bud Light Wheat was pretty positive. The orange was a nice touch.
We had three virgins, who listened very carefully during chalk (well, flour) talk. Then, we were off to find trail, which craniumed towards the river with a check on the corner of Western Ave and Market Street. Way to slow the pack down! Buttler nearly got himself killed by running in front of a car that was turning right on a green arrow but luckily for all involved (and spectating), the car stopped in time.
We ran over the Charles on Arsenal, then along Greenough Boulevard until a check by the Grove Street hill. After following all the false trails someone decided to bite the bullet and run up the hill, whereupon we found trail, which ran along the road for a while before going past a parking area and up a hill through some shiggy, then back down the hill. Back on Grove Street, we continued for a few blocks before running through a parking area towards some Soviet-era looking building with four very large, very yellow smokestacks and onto some abandoned train tracks. We ran about a block before emerging onto a road, with a check. By the time I got there people had gone both directions along the road, but no one thought to run straight along the abandoned tracks except for High An*s, who I followed. At the very least, it was scenic – it also happened to be true trail, and, better yet, BN!
The beer check was underneath a bridge (the road above turned out to be Mount Auburn Street). At this beer check, we learned that Virgin Paul, who is going to university in New Hampshire was down visiting for the weekend and he had just had his birthday on Friday, adding to the already large list of hash birthdays for the weekend. Since he looked like he was about 18, the next logical question was how old he was, to which he replied 21. Hashing in this close proximity to his 21st makes him officially THE YOUNGEST HASHER EVER.
Moving on… after the beer check we had to climb up a concrete wall that was probably 5 feet tall (but there were enough steel beams to help us up). We proceeded across Mount Auburn and through the neighborhood, emerging on Huron by Fresh Pond but instead of heading towards Alewife we turned back in through the posh neighborhoods, eventually emerging onto Fresh Pond Parkway and running towards the river again. Someone had suggested that we might be ending in Harvard Square, so when trail proceeded down Brattle this seemed like the logical conclusion. Happily, the hares cut off what would have been a long deathmarch by leading us down to Mount Auburn and placing a song check by the hospital. Now what else would we sing at a song check by a hospital but "My Girl's a Vegetable?"
Proceeding on, we ran down Mount Auburn until we reached a d*ck check at Longfellow Park. Bros refused to help out the ladies because apparently the cold "wouldn't look real good for the Bros." Thanks a lot, buddy. After this check, trail went through Longfellow Park where of course the dog that was out for a walk went right for the girl in the white pants. Well, I knew they'd get muddy some way or other, but this wasn't quite the way I was predicting …
Emerging back onto Brattle, we ran into the walkers but quickly left them in the dust as we kept running, and running, and running, and finally our deathmarch ended at Brattle Square with a song check where we sang "Free Beer For all the Hashers." We were at the song check long enough to spot the direction that we thought trail went, and we were right – up Mount Auburn. Now I totally missed it, because I saw a big true trail mark in flour but we ran right past Whitney's where apparently some guy was scratching out the "On-In" that had been placed there in flour. Apparently when the hares arrived, the bartender refused to let us end there because he had some problem with dirty songs being sung (despite the fact that the manager had approved it a few days beforehand). Well, there you have it people – a bar that refuses to let 25 people in who are going to drink a bunch of beer. Guess they don't need our business then.
Anyhoo, the revised trail continued along Mount Auburn for another block or so then turned up towards Harvard on the corner by Finale. Once we got to Harvard a bunch of civilians told us where to go, and we continued through Harvard Yard and past the science center then turned up Oxford and just continued along Oxford another third of a mile or so until we reached Jack's sister's place.
As luck would have it, there was some beer remaining in a keg and some mixed drinks. All was well until Just Patrick kicked one such drink over (a full drink, too!) but we got him back for that in circle.
You can see a map of trail here.
Comments on trail:
Heard at circle: "Are you short?" Bend Over Mommy to High An*s
And that's it for now. Up next, the Toga hash and then a whole weekend of St. Patty's Day debauchery! My favorite holiday! :)
- Brigham Tongue