Boston
Hash House Harriers

a drinking club with a running problem

Hash Trash

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

| St. Patty's Day Hash | Toga Hash | Olympic Hash | Snow Moon Hash with No Snow | VD Hash 2010 |

St. Patty's Day Hash (almost 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
Observer: Cyrus



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:

  • Not enough shiggy
  • Not enough crawling through the mud
  • A little too dry
  • No t*t checks
  • Not enough swimming

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:

  • Someone accused the walkers for taking public transit, but since that was the walkers trail it was a false accusation
  • Dribbles accused Tea Bags of spilling Guinness on her
  • The hares were accused of choosing a pre-lube that did not serve Guiness (but it did have Long Hammer IPA and free goldfish!)
  • Stops to Pet the P*ssy¬ accused the RA of causing the terrible weather but then had to drink too because that accusation made no sense whatsoever
  • Mommy accused the hares of trying to re-create the Pearl Necklace by making us hash in a monsoon
  • Buttler accused Mommy of blood on trail but she wasn't actually bleeding so he drank for a false accusation
  • Buttler accused Brigham Tongue of having a sex toy on trail (this was a rubber ball) but Mommy proclaimed that he had to drink for calling a breast implant a sex toy
  • Then Ski drank for spilling beer
  • Buttler had to drink for trying to take over running circle from the RA (booo!)
  • Stops to Pet the P*ssy¬ then drank for accusing Mommy's socks of being new shoes (ok this doesn't make a lot of sense but that's what my notes say!)
  • Stick It to the Bros actually accused someone of something, and brought up Just (formerly Virgin) Edward's discarding of an unopened Bud Lite on trail, so Just Edward drank. 
  • Brigham Tongue, The Buttler Hit It, Bondage Barbie, I Eat Tea Bags, and Stops to Pet the P*ssy were crazy enough to hash both days of this sh*tty weekend (although I will say … what else are you supposed to do in such lousy weather???), so we drank an honor down-down
  • C*mlocker drank because she hadn't done anything stupid. And she was a backslider along with Ski Bobbit and Wee Willy W*nker
  • Dribbles and Just Edward were last up, and they drank for having a private party. And the same hairdo. I sincerely hope they were not talking about their hair during their private party!

Announcements: 

  • Wednesday May 12th – Marching Tour 69th hash with Ski Bobbit. Or something like that.
  • There's some event involving the Boston marathon in a couple of weeks. Apparently it involves hashing every day for a week. Sounds like fun. 

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:

  • "She's Irish. She should be drenched in beer." – I Eat Tea Bags after spilling Guinness on Dribbles
  • "We have to get high and look for Mommy" – Brigham Tongue (I was talking about elevation; she was wearing a bright jacket. Really …)
  • "Where's the food?" – The Buttler Hit It (the food had been sitting out since we arrived at Cagney's)
  • "Where's the food?" = e=I'm a Douche (there was less of it at this point. Perhaps it was hiding)
  • "She's getting P*ssy." – Bend Over Mommy when asked where Bondage Barbie was. Ah, the difference a capital letter can make.

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
Toga Hash (almost 8 years ago)
Hares: Spitz, Mexican Humping Queen
Bag Car: Just Amanda
RA: Shawsk*nk
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:
  • It sucked
  • Not enough song checks
  • Not enough t*t checks
  • Not enough t*ts
  • Not enough pole dancing
  • Not enough hot firemen
  • Not enough beer
  • Not enough marks
  • Hashmanlike behavior
We had a ridiculous number of virgins. Luckily since none of our dementors were there, N*pples Erectus stepped up to the task of coming up with unique questions for all the virgins:
  • No one made Virgin Kristen c*m, not even the internet! Tea Bags was more than happy to step forward as her sponsor. For whatever reason of her own, she would prefer to be with Tea Bags than with a mechanical device with batteries. Well, to each her own.
  • Just Kyle made Virgin Brad c*m. Virgin Brad and Just Kyle are brothers, as is Just Scott. Happily, this is the first time either brother had made Virgin Kyle c*m.
  • Tw*t My Mom made Virgin Melody c*m, but since Tw*t was sponsoring someone else, The 2nd Cumming stepped up to sponsor Melody. Melody would not get off on a bus full of lesbians.
  • Tw*t My Mom made Virgin Hayley c*m. This one claimed she was good at math, and did in fact guess that the square root of 69 was slightly more than 8.
  • Floppy D*ck made Virgin Alicia c*m. She didn't know if his d*ck was floppy or not, at which point Floppy apparently demonstrated, causing Virgin Alicia to exclaim "Thank God I was facing that way!" (away from the display)
  • Shawsk*nk made Virgin Chris c*m. He had no idea what the strategically placed dollar bill was for.
  • Shawsk*nk also made Virgin Jeff c*m, and since Shawsk*nk was otherwise occupied Buoys was called upon to be his sponsor. A stallion is his favorite barnyard animal (yes, a stallion, not a mare)
  • Virgin Mike got picked up on the street by Just Cara, so I guess she made him c*m. There was another virgin with him who Just Cara picked up at the same time, but I didn't catch his name. Virgin Mike said that he would be the pitcher in a relationship between the two of them. Not everyone in circle agreed with Mike on this one!
  • Virgin Rob's hand made him c*m. Not sure I understand that one. Apparently he had a real sponsor, and a hot chick no less, but he prefers his hand. Well, to each his own. He somewhat redeemed himself by saying that he would choose Just Danielle over Stick It to the Bros, and he would also choose GAP (who he apparently knows from somewhere – this guy gets around!) over Bros. To top this off, he would take both Just Danielle and GAP over having one at a time. Like I said, this guy gets around…
Accusations and other stuff that went down in circle:
  • Puff `n Stuff, Jimmy Crack Wh*re, and Grease My Monkey's Nuts were visitors
  • Then Puff `n Stuff kept talking and not giving proper respect to the RA, for which he was made to drink. And when one bald man drinks, all bald men drink. And when one swim coach drinks … well you get the idea. Nice T*ts serenaded this lot of unworthies with some song derived from "I Will Survive" that I forget everything about other than that it was cool
  • Backsliders – S*xtra Credit, Far From F*cking, An Inconvenient Poop, D*ck Jockey, Peppermint P*ssy, Floppy D*ck, and Jamaican Me C*m. For some reason Time of the Munch wasn't in circle (or I didn't see him) but he's a big backslider too
  • FRB – The 2nd Cumming. No one knew who the FBI was, so N*pples Erectus volunteered to drink. In another big surprise, no one knew who was DFL so the lovely pair that is Buttler and Tea Bags volunteered to drink for that.
  • Dribbles and Just Hayley had on new shoes (booo!)
  • Sweat test failures – Willy Wonka, Jamaican Me C*m, Peppermint P*ssy
  • Just Stan was made to drink for announcing at a beer check that his racist behavior time had decreased since he started hashing
  • Speaking of racists, S*xtra Credit had on racist attire and drank for it
  • Lick Hole-a for going to Atlanta to defend her dissertation rather than hashing
  • Just Patrick was accused of something
  • I Eat Tea Bags, Goes Down on Buoys, and Peppermint P*ssy were all wearing the same shirt, which is the shirt that Stick It to the Bros wears on like every hash except for this one. But he had to drink anyway.
At this point all the female Justs were made to do a pole dance, with the winner getting called in for naming. Personally, I thought Just Amanda was the best – that woman knows her way around a stripper pole! But the general consensus was that Just Danielle had been the best. Unfortunately since this was just her second trail, no one knew anything about her and she was tossed back.

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.

Announcements:
  • Seacoast Green Dress Run, The Cove Lounge in Revere, Saturday, March 13th at 1pm HST.
  • Something is going on at Da Pitts at some point. Check the web site or something.
  • March moon hash will be on the 30th
  • No one announced it, but register for marathon already.
Heard before and then after the hash:
  • "I'm just waiting for my 30-rack." – Mexican Humping Queen to the bartender
  • "I'm not that big." – Puff 'n Stuff
Next week is a big week with two St. Patty's day-themed hashes, BOTH of which are T accessible. And I'm haring one of them! Ok, enough self-congratulation for one night … Hopefully see a lot of you then!

Brigham Tongue
Olympic Hash (almost 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:
  • Not enough Mount Auburn Cemetery
  • Excellent use of mass flour dumpage area
  • More d*ck checks
  • Not enough t*t checks
  • Bigger song checks [they were pretty massively huge … that's what she said]
  • Whitney's now our favorite on-in
We had virgins! Here's what (not who, sorry, I'm not privy to *all* the details) went down:
  • Tw*t My Mom made Virgin Cassandra c*m. When asked what is her favorite sexual position when Tw*t makes her c*m, she replied: "What???" Not getting anywhere with that, she admitted that she had faked an orgasm but when asked to fake an orgasm for the group she just laughed. Apparently she laughs when she c*ms, gentlemen!
  • E=I'm a Douche made Virgin Paul c*m. When asked the square root of 69, he guessed 8. Pretty close, and he also figured out pretty quickly what the real answer meant. This one's a keeper.
  • Tongue Me Please made Virgin Danielle c*m. Virgin Danielle would stay on a bus full of lesbians.
Accusations and other circle shenanigans
  • Birthdays: Just Paul, The Buttler Hit It, Necrophiliac Jack, Shawsk*nk, Tw*t My Mom – all are one year closer to death!
  • Just Paul drank for being the YOUNGEST HASHER EVER
  • Backsliders – Tongue Me Please (who hadn't c*m in like 6 years) and Just Stan (for whom it had been all of like four weeks)
  • Just Patrick drank for the above-mentioned alcohol abuse
  • Mooseknuckles drank for racist behavior, and Buttler drank for falsely accusing Bros of racist behavior, and then Bros drank as a proxy for Sugar Plum Fairy who accused Buttler of something (even though he was already drinking) that was determined to be hashmanlike behavior
  • Shawsk*nk proposed an honor down-down for Necrophiliac Jack, who had apparently gotten wasted the night before in some series of activities that involved body shots, getting naked and trying to take out the trash, and puking in at least 6 different places. As I said above, if that had been me I'd have been in bed moaning (and not in a good way!) rather than out laying trail the next day, so props to Jack!
  • Buttler, Bros, and Tongue Me Please were having a private party and were made to drink
  • Bend Over Mommy lost one of her tags in circle, and drank for that
Announcements: reminder to all to register for Marathon. The Seacoast Green Dress run is starting in Revere and will be held on Saturday, March 13th at 1pm HST.

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
Snow Moon Hash with No Snow (almost 8 years ago)
aka the Thank Goodness for Hare Club hash

Hares: Saskapoon, Muddy Buddy
Bag Car: Just Keri, D*ck Bank
RA: Tw*t My Mom
Pre-lube: Victory Pub, Noddles Island (I mean Orient Heights)
On-in: Some park on Deer Island
Weather: Clear, cold, and wet [it had just rained] (in the mid-30s)

Pack: Tw*t My Mom, Bloody P*ssy, Mr Papagiorgio, Cocksmith, Bring Out the Gimp, Father Shishkapoo
Latecummer: Glitorus

Between the weather, Burlington Mardi Gras, and it being a Saturday night a relatively small pack gathered at Victory Pub. The crowd of locals was smaller than usual, but the ones who were there were great. Just Keri hit Saskapoon on the *ss (lightly), I don't know why, and when the locals protested claimed it was just foreplay, prompting one of the locals to exclaim: "Foreplay! He's black and blue!"

D*ck Bank (wife of Muddy Buddy) thought that Bring Out the Gimp was my husband which was amusing because while I do have three husbands, Gimp is not among them. And no, I'm not taking more applications thank you very much.

Since we didn't have any pack chalk other than the chalk that Cocksmith and I brought, and no virgins, we skipped chalk talk and went out to find trail. Of course that intersection right by Victory Pub is a pain in the neck; I went to look north but the trail went south. The half the pack that found trail couldn't go any further because there was a t*t check and yes, I was the *only* girl on trail. Hah. And no, this wasn't the only t*t check. Thanks guys, really. :P

We got lost pretty soon after that. There was a check, and we could only find marks heading towards the water facing Logan Airport, but at the end of those marks was a big old F. So we wandered around for a while, checking for a check, or a turn, and all the other directions. Eventually someone ran northeast far enough to find another check so we headed over there. At the next check we got lost again – someone in a car stopped and asked us if we were lost and needed help finding anything, to which we replied that we were indeed lost but there was no way he could help us. The next check was somewhat easier because one of the two possible ways trail could have gone was a dead end. You may sense a pattern here as much of the first half of trail was staggering from one check to another because the chalk was too dark for us to see (pink and blue don't work so well at night, especially when it's wet).

Trail wound along 145 past Belle Isle Lobster and Seafood. I had a bit of an advantage at this point because from scouting trail in this area I knew exactly where trail might have gone and was not fooled by the checks. Except that High Anus and I ran right past a check, and also right past some arrows that drifted off to the right of us because we were so focused on the road right under our feet. And it was actually well lit! I still say we fared better than Gimp and Cocksmith who followed marks through holes in the fence into a private yacht storage area. Having finally found trail, we ran (literally) into Tw*t My Mom who was exiting a parking garage having apparently run through the yachts and emerged on the other side. This was the location of yet another check where we couldn't find trail. It went east, then south, then at a check Gimp ran one direction and Father Shishkapoo ran the other. Gimp yelled "on-on" and we couldn't hear Father Shishkapoo, so we followed Gimp for a good couple of blocks before he hit a YBF and we backtracked.

Trail actually went through a park that had lots of little walkways and pathways on which we could look for marks. Father Shishkapoo was apparently yelling at us where to go, but none of us heard him. Eventually we figured out where we were going and emerged on the other side. Trail next ran through Winthrop Center which is actually incredibly cute, or so it seemed at the speed at which we ran through there. A few blocks later we emerged back onto 145 and proceeded in quite the deathmarch (broken up only by about three checks), before coming across the beer check at Saskapoon's house. Father Shishkapoo had beaten us here, despite blowing right past the beer check and continuing up the road, heads-down like he was a racist or training for something. Or something. Maybe this is where the hares got the idea to lay a great long YBF and make him run the same stretch twice, pointlessly both times.

Now I must say this was quite probably the most scenic backyard I'd been in recently, right up on the water, with all sorts of boats moored out there and the whole thing illuminated by moonlight. In fact, it would have been romantic except that the beer check was punctuated by conversations like the following:
  • Just Keri: "Did you go to the Halloweenie hash?"
  • Bloody P*ssy: "Yes, I did."
  • Just Keri: "Yeah, me too. I had to show a lot of guys my t*ts."
  • D*ck Bank: "I used to do that. Now they are just dried up like nuts."
  • Tw*t: "Brigham, are you getting this???"
Maybe you had to be there. Moving on. There was a check just out front of the beer check. Father Shishkapoo and Cocksmith headed straight across the road, but the rest of us quickly found multiple marks heading east and started off at high speeds without even bothering to look behind us to see if the other two were following. Big mistake. We went a quarter of a mile (about about 12 marks, not even kidding) before finding a big, fat, YBF. Yeah, we sure as heck were and although we *knew* that trail would have to run past that general area again we didn't know exactly how so we ran back the quarter mile. Turns out we didn't entirely waste our time because in the meantime Father Shishkapoo and Cocksmith had tried every direction from a check before finally figuring out the right way (which was into the shiggy and really, shouldn't that have been obvious??).

So we ran through the park, through a playground, past the Winthrop Fire Department and over to a long stretch along the beach. Up ahead of us was a huge hill with a water tower with blue, white, and red stripes on it. At the bottom of this hill was a check, and from the beach the other direction emerged Glitorus, who had spoken with Just Keri at the beer check and parked at the on-in. Rather than thinking for 6.9 seconds about this, we all proceeded to run (or, walk…) up the steep hill to the top, despite not seeing any marks. Finally we figured out that was wrong, and trail actually went along a seawall the direction Glitorus had come from. Well, I don't regret it – the view from up there was stunning, and running along the ocean in the moonlight was beautiful.

Unfortunately from there on out trail necessarily got boring with a lot of straightaways along and near the beach before meandering through the neighborhoods a bit, through a parking lot, and up a really, really muddy hill to the on-in. I was pretty relieved at this point because I felt like I had run 6.9 miles. Father Shishkapoo's GPS said he ran 8 miles making this both the longest and most scenic hash I think I've been on.

The original idea was to do down-downs with Gatorade and vodka (the better to hide from the cops, who apparently are cutthroat in Winthrop). Sanity prevailed and beer was procured from bag car.

Comments on trail:
  • Enough with the deathmarches
  • Not enough marks in black unseeable chalk
  • Not enough beach
Muddy Buddy had been accepted as a transplant back in the summer, but this was D*ck Bank's first trail since she moved from Houston. We asked her where she was from and she finally remembered she was from Dallas, but then she didn't realize when we were singing her down-down song and so got a bit of a late start. She also chugged an entire cup of vodka and Gatorade which, while impressive, also took a really, really, really long time.

Accusations and other circle shenanigans:
  • Moon hash backsliders – Saskapoon and Muddy Buddy (yes, the hares!)
  • Birthdays in the past week – Bring Out the Gimp (one year closer to death!!)
  • Muddy Buddy accused himself of getting lost on trail. Well, if that's not enough, accusing yourself is an accusable offense …
  • Father Shishkapoo and D*ck Bank were having a private party and were made to drink. Apparently she needed her pants checked? Yeah I don't know what was up with that, and I probably don't want to.
  • Moon burn – Tw*t My Mom and Saskapoon
  • At this point D*ck Bank asked why we were all inverting our vessels over our craniums, so we demonstrated a down-down for her, and, of course, made her then demonstrate that she had learned her lesson
  • Just Keri, Saskapoon, and Muddy Buddy were having a private party
  • Someone produced a bag of chalk that the hares had lost on trail, to which Muddy Buddy quipped before he drank: "All the marks you didn't see on trail? That's why!"
  • FRB/FBI - Father Shishkapoo and Bloody P*ssy (first and only!); DFL – Cocksmith
  • Glitorus was made to drink for being a latecummer
  • Social started by Cocksmith's production of a Christmas wreath (another sex toy I had apparently lost on trail. Now not knowing how I would actually use such a thing as a sex toy I claimed it was a false accusation and it just degenerated from there)
  • Mexican down-down: Father Shishkapoo, Muddy Buddy, D*ck Bank, Saskapoon
At this point D*ck Bank pointed at me (with her finger no less!) from the middle of circle and accused me of being too serious. Saskapoon chimed in that he was the hash drunk of the moon hash and it was unacceptable for anyone not to be drunk at his hash. Well, almost everyone had driven there so we couldn't very well get drunk but we did have a social.

Announcements consisted of a reminder to register for Marathon, and an announcement that the Seacoast Green Dress run is starting in Revere and will be held on Saturday, March 13th.

Some of you may or may not remember that attendees of this hash were told to bring $1 in addition to the $5 hash cash. After hash religion, we noticed a bus pulling away from the parking lot at the bottom of the hill. Apparently this bus runs once an hour, and we had clearly just missed it, hence the thank goodness Glitorus showed up late and could shuttle half of us back to the start! It was cold at this point and the prospect of waiting an hour or walking 4 miles were equally unpleasant.

Glitorus took off after dropping us off because amazingly, no one needed a ride back into Cambridge. The rest of us congregated at Little Asia which was really *just* awful. Really, hashers, don't eat there. Or if you do, don't order off the all-day specials menu; I guess the regular menu items were somewhat better. Even more surprising was the fact that no one ordered anything to drink and pretty much everyone went home after. I guess there is a combination of trail length and temperature that can make hashers quit drinking, at least for the evening!

Heard before, on, and after trail:
  • "Are you employed by the government? What country?" – local in Victory Pub to Saskapoon
  • "I don't know what you've got planned for tonight but count me out!" – Bring Out the Gimp to Saskapoon and Just Keri
  • "I knew trail didn't go that way. I just wanted to run up the hill." – Glitorus
  • "It's been 7 years!!" – D*ck Bank
  • "I have a little throat." – D*ck Bank
  • "Just open your throat and let it go down." – Just Keri
  • "My husband is my vibrator." – D*ck Bank
  • "I'm a great lay." – D*ck Bank
  • "How many strap-ons do you have?" – Just Keri (NO, I am NOT making this up! And no, I don't know the context …)
- Bloody P*ssy
VD Hash 2010 (about 8 years ago)
Hares: Catheter the Great, Jamaican Me C*m, Pbvzzzvvzzzz, Tw*t My Mom
Bag Car: Accidentally An*l
RA: The 2nd Cumming
Pack (I may have missed some; if so I'm sorry, there were a lot of people!): Just Patrick, e=I'm a Douche, The Buttler Hit It, Tampon Jelly, High An*s, 5" Penalty, Pig F*cker, Goes Down on Buoys, Brigham Tongue, Better Late Than Pregnant, Screaming Japanese Girl, N*pples Erectus, Necrophiliac Jack, Sucker's Bet, Bondage Barbie, An*l Beads, Just Emmy, Dirty Latte Sanchez, Just Becca, Virgin Josh, Horse's *ss, Taj My Hole, Pat My Fly, Floppy D*ck, Just Jen, Just Leslie, Virgin Scott, Virgin Brad, Sketchy Ho, C*m is Kosher, Blows My Mind, Virgin Phil, Virgin JJ, Jolly Green V*gina, Peppermint P*ssy, Bend Over Mommy, Queer Leader, Stick It to the Bros

Wangers: I Eat Tea Bags, Dude Where's My Virginity, Shorn Scr*tum, Sugar Plum Fairy
Pre-lube: The Lower Depths, Kenmore
On-in: The Hub Pub, Downtown Crossing
Weather: Clear, cold, and windy (in the 40s but high 20s/low 30s with wind)

I love The Lower Depths. Although really anyone who expects patrons actually to drink Tusker beer should have another think coming. I had arrived early and by around 2:40pm the pack was about five people so I was starting to get worried that hashers might actually have something better to do on Valentine's Day than come run a trail and so there wouldn't be much trash to talk. Boy was I wrong! We entertained ourselves eating hot dogs and watching men with big guns on TV until the hares left.

I have to say that this was by far the most awesome bag car I'd ever seen – because it was not a car, but was a really sick pickup truck. Go Accidentally An*l!

The 2nd Cumming led chalk talk in the middle of Comm. Ave which was amusing mainly because he had put an "F" right next to a "YBF" and someone spelled this out to read "F*ck Your Boyfriend." Also because there were five, yes FIVE virgins, two of whom were wearing jeans. Crazy b*stards you'd think they'd fit right in … An*l Beads told them to take a look at his t-shirt which, well, I can't make a square root sign but it spelled out that equation we all know so well.

Moving on … The 2nd Cumming explained that instead of a turkey-eagle today's trail featured a single-taken split (hence the need for four hares), and the first man and woman after the split were to go into the first store they encountered, say they were a hasher, and receive a gift. What could go wrong there?

Eventually we headed out and found trail pretty quickly; it headed up Charlesgate and down Boylston. At this point we all assumed the trail went into the park so we ran over there … no. Then we assumed it went south … no. Then we assumed it went along Boylston … no. Finally someone figured out that trail actually went over by Fenway and around under Charlesgate (clever, hares…), before emerging on the other side and coming up on Bolston again!

There was another long delay at the Mass. Ave song check (we sang "My Girl's a Vegetable") as some people ran down Boylston, and I headed south which was the wrong direction. Eventually we figured it out, and came upon the single-taken split. I started off down the taken path – the FRBs on this leg were High An*s and N*pples Erectus who emerged from the store with sexually explicit pastries that they then had to carry for the rest of trail. Not sure what happened to them after that but I have a few guesses.

Anyhow we followed trail into the center of Comm. Ave, but then couldn't find anything after the last mark we saw. Maybe we missed a check, I don't know. So we ran around for a little bit, trying to find trail – eventually came upon a YBF in the other direction on Gloucester Street. At this point we were totally off trail and lost, and I saw a bunch of people running up on Newbury Street by the mall so I ran up that way, and I think I may have found my way onto the single trail. Figures that I'd start off taken and wind up single, that's what Valentine's Day is all about right? I guess it's fitting since the only valentine I got was from a girl (although she is pretty hot… ).

From there we didn't have too many problems following marks through the alleys and roads of Back Bay and over a pedestrian footbridge to the Esplanade. There was a check and one arrow pointing out into the Charles River – The 2nd Cumming decided it would be a good idea to walk across the ice and go check it out; happily for everyone involved he didn't fall in! At around this time we came upon a song check which Tampon Jelly, Just Emmy, and Necrophiliac Jack decided to blow through without singing! Suckers Bet and I managed to sing and then chased after the FRBs, who might have just gotten overly excited by the presence of the beer check by the Hatch Shell. Otherwise known as by the Massive Wind Tunnel Created By the Hatch Shell.

There was a lot of ice by the wall people were sitting on, and Virgin Josh nearly brained himself by sprinting towards it and then slipping … why he was exhibiting such athletic prowess I do not understand. Buttler did manage to eat it for our first and only ice-related hash crash of the day.

We got very cold and so headed out, over the other pedestrian bridge and into Beacon Hill where we ran by a tremendously cute house with a garage that was bigger than the house, and then hit a check back. The revised trail headed into the Boston Common where we paused for another song check before trying to find trail. A bunch of us wound up on the wrong side of the frog pond from trail so decided it would be fun to run over it. This was great until we got to the far side where the ice looked a little sketchy and there were four or five people all approaching it at a run … but it did hold out, thank goodness.

We ran through the rest of the Public Garden and across Boston Common, and up some steps. Trail led right past BBAG and Dude's place, with a YBF arrow pointing at the door to their building. We then ran down Beacon and shortly after that the hares were apparently snared (all four of them, as a group)! The on-in at The Hub Pub was all of a two-minute run from there, which made the whole thing particularly amusing.

Something approximating what I ran can be found here: http://www.mapmyrun.com/run/united-states/ma/boston/870126618379879677 (iPhone gen 1 does not have GPS, so no, I didn't run through buildings – walking through walls is hard enough)

Comments on trail:
- GAP trail of the year
- Not enough t*t checks
- Nobody blew me at a beer check
- Not enough hares
- Not enough hairs
- No single people (apparently everyone ran the taken path)
- Couldn't find one mark in my car

After guest singer Pig F*cker treated us to "Pissonya" or whatever that song is called we proceeded to dement the virgins! Now you might remember that there were five virgins at the start … by this time we were down to three. The two with the jeans on were at the beer check and then vanished. Which means they drank beer and didn't pay any money for it, which quite possibly makes them smarter than the lot of us, although definitely wankers! Anyway on to our real virgins:
  1. The 2nd Cumming made Virgin JJ c*m, and he couldn't figure out what the strategically-placed dollar bill was all about until we clued him in
  2. The 2nd Cumming also made Virgin Phil c*m (with a name like The 2nd Cumming this is not surprising now is it), so Bend Over Mommy was kind enough to proxy for him. Fittingly, Virgin Phi's favorite barnyard animal is a goat, but his impression sounded more like a donkey (or so someone said, but why they would know that is … well, ok not beyond me but nothing I care to dwell on)
  3. Virgin Josh made himself c*m, well actually the internet made him c*m. Heck, who *hasn't* the internet made c*m? That's not very creative. An*l Beads stepped in as his sponsor. Virgin Josh was asked what the square root of 69 is and he actually remembered what was on AB's shirt … although then he didn't know what it meant. Maybe not the brightest then … anyway his favorite sexual position is doggie style which I Eat Tea Bags was only happy enough to help demonstrate to the pack.
After accepting the unworthy virgins into our cult … I mean club … the accusations began:
  1. Sweat test failure – I Eat Tea Bags and Shorn Scr*tum
  2. Transplant from Vegas (ok that's not an accusation) – Just Jen
  3. Backsliders – Just Becky, Queer Leader, 5" Penalty, Shorn Scr*tum, An*l Beads
  4. Honor down-down for The 2nd Cumming for leaving more marks than the hares
  5. An*l Beads, Goes Down on Buoys, and Pig F*cker for being … something that I can't read (I was using a napkin at this point maybe some day I will remember to bring a notepad…)
  6. Taj My Hole and High An*s for having a beer before the on-in (apparently they zenned to the incorrect on-in and had to be rescued)
  7. Tampon Jelly, Just Emmy, and Necrophiliac Jack for blowing through a song check
  8. Goes Down on Buoys and Stick It to the Bros for blowing through a t*t check (the horror!)
  9. Social for current and former GMs for some reason
  10. As FRBs N*pples Erectus and Necrophiliac Jack received some apparently very high quality lube
  11. As DFL Shorn Scr*tum got a Duracell battery or some such thing …
  12. Technology on trail – Taj My Hole, e=I'm a Douche, Brigham Tongue, Stick It to the Bros
  13. Social for everyone wearing a shirt that somewhat resembled Bros' red shirt (Take off that red shirt! Oh, wait, wrong club …)
  14. Sketchy Ho for taking a train from the start to the beer check
I think that was about it. For the second week in a row we tried to name Just Emmy but the names weren't much better this week than they were last week (ok really we need more than one week to dig up more dirt on the girl than the fact that she's a Yankees fan!).

At some point during circle Tampon Jelly yelled "Will he Taj my hole?" to the general horror of everyone who heard this utterance. Somehow Pig F*cker wound up with Jack's tags and I wound up with Just Patrick's valentine but in the end sanity was restored and we retired to eat appetizer platters and drink beer until we all got really hot and bothered. No, really, it got really hot in there because we were on the top floor and there were a lot of us.

That's all for now, hopefully see a lot of you at Preggers' and my trail next week in Southie!

- Brigham Tongue