Hash House Harriers

a drinking club with a running problem

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| HongKongukah Hash Trash | Invihash 2018 | Donut Hash | Divorce Hash | Pearl Necklace 2018 |

HongKongukah Hash Trash (5 months ago)

Editors note: If you were in Boston, or hung out with the Boston Hash (and associated kennels) during the month of June, the calls of "HongKongukah" or "1S1D" will recall to your liver shudders of agony. Over the week plus of nightly rage a solid dozen scribes wrote their recollection and they were then compiled by Quarter Mile Queer and Do Me Decimal.

On - why is this rage unlike any others - On

HongKongukah (8S8D) Hash Trash, 2018
Written by Marbles, No Man, C&C&C&C&C&C....., Wiki, Formerly-Just-Katie-Now-Knuckles-Deep, Po-Po Peepshow, Blondie McFucksalot, O'Bone'R, Shits and Ladders, HURL SARONG, Formerly-Just-Tati-Now-Cuntcussion, Jello Wrecked’em, Clit Notes, Luva Lamp, Wrangler, Cum ear, The Buttler Hit It, 3 Ring Cervix, Glutenless Maximus, Spank Me May I Have Your Mother, Sketchy Ho, Black cock down, & Anal Disco

Compiled by Quarter Mile Queer and Do (Re) Me Decimal, the Mom (QMQ) and Dad (DMD) of 1S1D

Pride Saturday
During the Pride parade picnic, infused much gay-ge, inspired by Wrangler’s biceps, we decided to start 7S7D a day early.  Packing up our blankets post-parage, some of the group played pool with Massage a Trois’ brother, while others headed to Hong Kong to begin the first night of HongKongukah.

Jello crashed after John Dalys, but once at Hong Kong, O’Bone’R managed to get Django in the bar, where The Best Boy took his photo with the birthday cupcake while Blondie, No Man, and Mudslut had a scorpion bowl race.  Then the corgi of epic proportions was wrongfully evicted because too many of his friends were present. Still, Django managed to not get kicked out for a longer period than Mudslut. 

The harriette formerly known as Just Tati, now known to all as Cuntcussion, managed to lose her voice and her phone after applying makeup to Seagle and Wrangler.

At some point, a group attempted to go see drag queens at Sinclair’s, but were met with a line of epic proportions.  They bravely forged ahead to Border Cafe, where, unlike Django the Good Boy, Helix bit people. 

Much drinking, poor decisions, and surprisingly low bar tabs were acquired while Pride was had by all except 3 Ring Cervix, who was too sick to attend.  

Sunday Sunday Sunday

Many people do not remember this day.  Others were too high, sick, or both to have either a song or a drink.  But rage was had.  Gentle rage, gentle rage.  

The official start of 7S7D began with a too-sick-to-work Do Me making Blondie’s dream of Hong Kong Bingo cards come true, with input from QMQ, Gnome, and the 69s69d phone.  In honor of Mudslut and Django, “Don’t get kicked out,” was put on every card. Inspired by another chance at food poisoning and hangovers, Do Me pulled their dad bod off of the couch, printed up 50 Bingo cards, and headed to Hong Kong.

The owner and a bartender were excited to see the “running club” had returned and would be back for seven more straight nights.  And there was much rejoicing. 

Sketchy wore a delightful green dress and went square-to-square with Spank Me for Bingo supremacy.  

Cum Ear may not remember because ReasonsTM, but she was present while Buttler managed to sing 1 song and drink 1 drink in his own efforts to be the first person to Bingo.  

Since the owner had given the hash seats at the karaoke stage, we were able to witness a muggle celebrating her 21st birthday by failing to drink the HK birthday shot.  (More about this drink later, featuring Udder Whore.)  Basically, the kid couldn’t swallow.

A group of strippers sang and danced to Cardi B's “Bodak Yellow.”  None of the male hashers were familiar with the song, but it didn't matter because: DAT ASS.  QMQ valiantly attempted to follow the unfollowable act.  All praise to QMQ, but there really wasn’t much to accomplish after that performance, and the group disbanded for the evening.

(I Don’t Like) MONDAY(s)
Trial by gravity determined if you have an "open Hong Kong" on your Bingkongukah card, you had to show up when the bar opens, not when karaoke starts.  There was a r*ce to be the first few people into the Hong Kong.

Sketchy started the night by getting a table (#BingoSquare) at 17:32.  Jello and Blondie managed to both 1S1D. While Jello stuck to “Under the Sea,” Blondie sang an excellent rendition of "Psycho Killer," dedicated to Lovecat, changing the lyrics to: “Psycho Kitty, qu'est que c'est, meow meowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeow!"  Then Blondie and Jello went to hot yoga.

C&C&C&C&C&C...received a button from QMQ.  O’Bone’R turned around bright eyes by singing “Total Eclipse of the Heart,” which may or may not have also been sung on this evening by Shits and Ladders, Chunderellie, and Cuntcussion.  3 Ring found free parking, and decided to keep up the good luck by trying for blackout bingo over the course of the week.

QMQ was given the Bingo cards at 21:22. Buttler got what may have been the first Bingo at 22:41 and chose the prize "blackout the card" over the prize "get a new card."

Shits spent 26 dollars and blacked out after asking, "Do shots count as 'drink something that's not beer or a scorpion bowl?'" After receiving an affirmative reply, and downing the shots, he sang something by the Talking Heads.  Do Me allegedly attempted to derail Spank Me’s goal of singing 1 song and drinking 1 drink by signing him up for another song, but this is mere speculation.  

Free food began, a token of affection from the bar that would continue through the rest of the week, truly a miracle indeed.

Wrangler raged too close to the sun.  

(Got the club goin’ up on a) TUESDAY
Anal Disco claims this was the best night of the week.  The rage was strong, the rage was long, and there was much singing on this day.  Gnome is to blame for this excellence, though she claimed she was Not In Charge.

Hong Kong was determined to be Game of Thrones and some hashers (probably r*cists), started to get competitive again about the Bingo cards.  Gnome and Do Me kept reminding the group that, "YOU REALIZE YOU WIN NOTHING?!", a statement which probably has a lot to do with what they’ve learned by pursuing the highest of educations, but we won’t pile disappointment higher and deeper any longer than necessary.  Undeterred, the competitive Bingo-ers kept instantly responding, "We don't care, we want to challenge ourselves to do silly things anyway, for pride." (For PRIDE, get it?)
Three early ragers competed for First to Be At the Bar: Blondie, Spank Me, and Wrangler.  Spank Me “won” by opening Hong Kong at 16:04.  This may explain why the bartender remembered his name and looked vaguely surprised in their photo together.  Admittedly, the square “Opening the Hong Kong” was a rare Pokemon, with only three hashers completing the feat of “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS.”

Wrangler arrived at 16:32, shortly after Spank Me left, did the first karaoke song of the night after instructing the manager in the ways of starting a karaoke machine, did a drink, and left, all while providing video evidence.  Blondie arrived at 17:27, also photographed with the bartender, had 1D2S (including the Monster Mash), received her Bingo card, then left to get blackout drunk at Harvard, albeit not in the Hong Kong.  A free pitcher was provided to Blondie, presumably for these valiant efforts.

Jello came early and sang “Fuck Her Softly.”  Luva did an interpretive dance while C&C&C&C&C&C..... sang “Total Eclipse of the Heart.”

Wiki forgot which Kong he was at and played trivia with the hostess. He learned that they do not have the following songs: Don't Worry About the Government, Ride Captain Ride, Mr. Mistoffelees, and Rock and Roll.

Cuntcussion cancelled a date to attend, which may have contributed to her team winning a scorpion bowl race against 3 Inch’s team.  We’ll never know, in part because both team leaders reported heading downhill quickly following this competition, though 3 Inch helped 5 Inch find free parking before crashing.

Mangia, her mom, Señor, and CPA showed up. Lots of tearful goodbyes were had.

Sketchy showed up in a homemade Bingo shirt!  Glutenless arrived post-shiva in civilian clothes and ended up with a hash necklace from someone he’d never met (but is actually CPA).  He sang Sweet Caroline with Buttler. Also World's Most Average Kirkland came with his actual Harvard Med School diploma in hand!

QMQ stuck a "meat" stick into a beer and drank it, and said it was just awful.  HVD gave neck massages.

There was a three-way make out on the dance floor.  In HVD's words, "Quarter Mile says if anyone had an actual threesome in the bar, it's an automatic super bingo."  The gingers subsequently took control of Bingo r*les.  However, a very exhausted Do Me was still asked a ruling: “If a muggle sings Purple Rain, but we dozen hashers YELL out ‘Gentle Rage’ at the appropriate time, does that count?"   Trial by gravity (water bottle) establishes this is a yes, though Do Me was never quite sure what they were counting. It is also established that, in this ragefest, “a day”=“until closing that night,” which is technically 02:00 the following morning.

Cuntcussion left her debit card at Hong Kong.  Unclear whether she had the "leave your shit at Hong Kong" square.  Everyone else just left their dignity somewhere near the karaoke bear.  Rage.


Following what Clit Notes called “the most successful whisper circle ever,” after Wrangler made new friends and Dribbles was misplaced in the restrooms on the way to Hong Kong, the hash invaded the bar and it immediately the hash had invaded the bar.  Crowded...lots of sweaty people...more drinking...more PoPo’s words: the best cure for jet lag ever!

Some folks who didn't do trail did songs instead.  For insance, O’Bone’R skipped trail and was the first one there, where she kindly got a table for the group (or for her Bingo card, same difference).  Jello came later, then sang “Don’t Stop Believing” for Blondie’s Bingo square. As reward, Blondie tried to put a dollar bill in Jello’s mouth multiple times.  It is unclear whether Blondie succeeded in this task, but according to Wrangler, Blondie crushed Cyndi Lauper. 

Shits had one drink, sung Total Eclipse of the Heart for the third day in a row (he's been banned from running jukeboxes for less) and left.  In a similar Low Rage effort, 3 Ring again found free parking, then drank just 1 drink before retiring for the night.  Truly a gentle rage miracle.  

In contrast, Udder drank the type of Birthday Shot that Sunday's muggle failed to finish, Spank Me forgot what day it was, and Cuntcussion ended up in Sweagle's and Luva's clothes because bingo card.

Cuntcussion, Sweagle, Kirkland, and Do Me shut down Hong Kong.  The staff turned on the lights and everyone sang "Closing Time."  It was a good decision.  Leaving earlier for 8am meetings was also established as a reasonable activity.  Rage.

THURSDAY(’s Child)
Morale was low.  This may be because it was Señor's last 1S1D, or perhaps because Marbles was “ouching,” compounded by Helix trying to fight a bouncer (DON’T DO THAT).  Jello was sick from meat sticks, Clit Notes had the first stages of hash plague, and Cum Ear couldn’t function. 

Some hashers were still alive and singing, though.  Sketchy’s days had begun running together, but she still managed to attend.  Blondie belted out a song and had a virgin drink, then went to a work event and scouted ballbuster with Wiki.  

Meanwhile, across the river, Shits had dinner at Harvard Square Hong Kong and visitor Hurl Sarong arrived and promptly WRONG KONGED.  

Spank Me and Cuntcussion challenged Hurl and Helix to a scorpion bowl race. Hurl killed probably 90% of his winning bowl.  Cuntcussion had to resort to writing on a notepad after losing her voice.  Cuntcussion again lost her phone on the way home.  The official tally isn’t ready, but Cuntcussion may have lost more things than Quarter Mile, which is...admirable?

3 Ring got free parking for the third (?!) time, learned about HK points, then tried (and failed) to get them for previous nights.

QMQ decided we need to replace the sombrero.  This was after he attempted to take off makeup using Fireball.  Gnome drank beer from a pitcher using a straw.  Do Me drank 1 song, sang 1 drink, then went for Long Sleep.  Disco learned that eating 5 whole meat sticks is actually kind of a challenge.

The hash drank some, raged all blurs together...I don't even know what day it is anymore.  Throw me tomorrow, oh oh.

(It’s) FRIDAY (I’m in love)
ARE YOU HAVING FUN YET?  We hope so, because Marbles was crying, both Jello and Luva have no idea what happened, Cum Ear rage napped, and there were nightmare-worth credit card bills reported by multiple attendees.  Blackie spent seven hours in Hong Kong.  Holy fuck, Blackie.

But in case you forgot: it was Wrangler’s birthday!  There was glorious rage, People’s Republik rage, muggle rage, co-worker rage, rageragerageragerage.  Wrangler was presented with an ultrasound and a card by Do Me, officially making him in charge of 1s1d with QMQ.  Congratulations, Wrangler: you’re the father!

Cuntcussion and Hurl Sarong opened Hong Kong to recover Cuntcussion’s debit card (and complete Bingo squares).  Then they headed to Harvard Hong Kong, where they tied their onesie tails together while explaining the term cis-gender to a bouncer who rewarded them, Spank Me, and Do Me with a rendition of “Don’t Stop Believing” in exchange for his own Bingo card.  Then the hash quartet headed to People’s Republik for Wrangler’s birthday.

Meanwhile, at Hongkongukah: so much rage. So many people. Gnome put out the call around 5:30 that she was alone at the Kong.  PoPo and four other strangely civilized folks showed for pre-dinner shenanigans.  Blackie got his shit together and made it over post-haste.  Turns out Gnome lied (or the truth changed), and Blackie found not only her, but Blondie already on stage singing, with Marbles and +2 also present and in line for songs. Then...a wild Krusty appeared! Two nights in one week. What the fuck did we do to deserve this?!  Turns out the five of them were going to a concert, and left not long after Blackie arrived. Poor Blackie. But before they left: Vagetarian! And as they left, Jack arrived from TBG (where was the invite, Jack?). Then Vag left. Clitz and Chipz also made a brief appearance with her sign for the cupcake.

Jack pulled a knife on some poor, unsuspecting balloons while Blackie made vague threats with his shiny new Hongkongukah pin.  The balloons were let go with a warning.

PSA and friends showed up from day drinking in Charlestown, and Jack Irish-goodbyed, but there were still two hashers holding the place down. 3 Ring again acquired free parking & snagged a corner table for the bingo card/the group, drank two drinks, and ate meatsticks.  Sketchy showed up with impromptu hab, including an iron for DIY HongKongukah shirts, and Kong employees took photos.

Eventually, there was a very long line into Hong Kong that HVD somehow managed to slowly navigate hashers through using Ginger SkillzTM.  Members of the communist contingent celebrating Wrangler’s parents fucking some years back waited in line while Blackie taunted O’Boner with C&C’s sign.  

Once inside, Birthday Bottom Wrangler provided an amazing performance of “At the Gay Bar.”  A muggle complimented Buttler on his rapping skills.  Shits fuckin raged.

O'Bone'R, Spank Me, and a variety of others closed down Hong Kong.  All of the rage was had. Discodome was opened.  Many people reported going to bed around dawn.  Lyrics and ukulele chords to Gentle Rage were provided to 69s69d Phone.  Krusty did not make a recording for his Facebook friends.  Raaaaaaaage.

SATURDAY (in the Park)
We survived!  Well, all but Marbles, who committed seppuku, and QMQ, who we tried to kill with fireball.

The day started early and way out of town with a shitty Magical Beasts trail laid by a reasonably-hungover Harry Potter (Hurl Sarong) and a too-hungover-to-hare Luna Lovegood (Do Me Decimal), with bag car by Just Joe Romeo.  Pack was Sweagle, Luva Lamp, and Cuntcussion. Autohasher was Spank Me.  Cuntcussion and Sweagle were not doing well from the Discodome rage on Friday; in fact, Cuntcussion was promptly lost on trail (sans phone, which was lost to the Rage) before Beer Check #1. Luva and Sweagle finally found her passed out, overheated, in the shade. Spunk in the Trunk and a visitor joined pack at Beer Check #2. Pack booked it to HK, eager to get out of the sun. Cum Ear and Motherload joined us and a short circle was had, interspersed with karaoke. We sang an alternate version of Summer Nights, as well as Whip it out at the Ball Game, then left on a boozy walking trail to Spank Me's house. Beer and Cornish pasties were had, then we all showered with a traffic cone. No records broken, but it was a great time. Some hashers left and others took naps.  

Most of the daytime pack was too drunk to make it back to the final night, but Luva rallied and returned to Hong Kong, where he and 3 Ring Cervix had the bold plan to close on the last Saturday. They consumed two Redbulls and fortified their minds.

There were more songs. More drinks. More free food. More jalapeño poppers. Lenovo. Got low.  O’Bone’R slayed “Killing Me Softly.”

Wiki signed up for a Phish song. The “kareoke” machine broke. There was no causation.  Once Buttler and Wiki left, the karaoke machine was magically fixed.  There was no correlation.

3 Ring tipped the host so that we could sing, beneath very bright lights, the last song of the night: “Gentle Rage.”

Buttler said, “This isn’t enough,” and came back for 9S9D.

Invihash 2018 (5 months ago)
I thought long and hard about how to, or if I should, write a trash for an event which I 0.0'd, since most of trashing is a story of the trail, and the shenangins around it.

Then, I found inspiration by a quote from O'Bone'R

"Invihash peaked on Saturday morning, when Krusty put his dick in the sandwich"

Which immidetialy recalled to me:

Which I edited to be:

Strange memories on this nervous morning in the hash.

Has it been 5 days, 10? It seems like a lifetime

The kind of peak that never comes again.
Invihash, on Saturday morning, was a very special time and place to be alive.

But no explanation, no mix of rage, or songs or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there, and alive in that corner of time in the world, whatever it meant.

There were hashers in every direction, and any hour you could rage anywhere
There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was true.
That we were hashers.

And that i think, was the handle; that sense of inevitable rage at the forces of drab normality, not in any lude or drunken sense, we didn’t need that.

Our rage would simply prevail.
We had all the momentum.
We were riding the crest of a high a beautiful rage.

So now, less than 5 days later you can go out to a field and look north, and with the right kind of eyes, you can almost see the high-water mark.

The place were the rage finally broke, and Krusty fucked a sandwich.

-Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
(Edited by Wiki)

On - the kind of rage which never comes again - On

Donut Hash (5 months ago)
Hash trash for Doughnuts trail!

Hares: 50 shades of Glaze & Honorable Vaginal Discharge 
Combined I make 50 shades of discharge 😱
Baggo: Rimjob Ringleader the Greatest Hoe On Earth & the Hasher formerly known as Dog Dick Afternoon- we’ll get there!

So there we were meeting outside of a doughnut shop near Fenway where we found a stroller of babies on the sidewalk waiting but they had a check bag at gate claim ticket so we’re sure they could be taken care of by some whole mein. ‘‘Twas a small pack that gathered Nei for doughnuts and running and drink drank drunking! We were joined by Do Me & Mr. Bean & just Mark a transplant from DC on his first Boston trail! We circled up for chalk talk in a parking garage giving the attendants quite a show with Rimmy Vana White displaying hash marks as Do Me hashsplained to our visitors & transplants how we do in Boston- very important biggest of importants believe me. Hares were gay long after start time which is the norm as we feasted on our doughnuts and spiked cold coffee. Trail was a beautiful glazing I mean blazing day of 85 degrees with a chance of doughnuts throughout body building parks in which hash stories of travel Whore glory were told and drinks were served of Oj and vodka because that’s how one does wash down doughnuts. Up and over and onon through a splash pad to cool down in the shade of a dog park to empty the vodka & beers and learn that Just Mark was to be named at his next trail in DC but moved here... keep this his in mind! Then through the concrete jungle to our next park which we were joined by spank me in his muggle garb who thought worldly fooseball for England was more important than r*unning trail ! Then the Sambuca started flowing and the tales of namessakes were told & we learned we speak more than 9 languages combined & that we needed more doughnuts so on out to the end another dough nutery in front of Whoresbox house who was also being a fooseball English wank but joined us by stumbling across our circle in a hidden courtyard with a hammock! In whence the final hashy story was told in a circle jointly RA’d by Mr. Bean Rimmy & Do Me the tale of Dog Dick Afternoon’ cuming of goo on the day of Ref White & Blue. Where he blew his load and it shot out like fireworks & landing on the batshit husky! Gooey fur Gooey fur led to the renaming of Dog Dick in which he will now be known for the next 6,999 hashes as Cum Dog Millionaire !!! 🤘🔛🔛 thanks for a shitty trail & doughnut party that ended at remnant brewing where we met HVD’s coworker who now knows her hash life matters & will probably cum as a virgin! Great day ended with Thai food and a new transplant a new name and a new recruit all enacted by a new visitor !
 On On Wanks

Divorce Hash (6 months ago)

What: Divorce Hash
Where: Friendly Patio
Hares: Do Me Decimal, The Butler Hit It, Shits and Ladders, Honorable Vaginal Discharge
Bag Car: Spank Me
RA: Yellow Dick Gnome
Pack: Lets see if can remember them; long haired virgin, virgin from Seattle (how wasn’t really a virgin), other virgin, just people, Ceritfied Poop Accuntant, Wikipedophilia, 5 Inch Penatly, Orgasmn Falmon, Goat Throat, Barrey Manbelow, Other vistor from Oregon, First Visitor From Sac-town, Second Visitor from Sac-Town, Visitor from South Carolinia, Dry Hose, Justine Beerber, Twat My Mom, Udder Whore, Anal Disco, Pop Cum Ear I’m Inefected, Rammerhead Shark, her husband who I’m calling Salt on the Wound? (It’s not his name), Sonic BUM, Pole in the Family*, Bottom Wrangler, Dribbles, Clit Notes, others I’m probably forgetting.

Start: It was kids night at the Friendly Toast, so the bar manager very wisely set up the patio for us. It should be noted that before he did that he asked if the two gentlemen passed out on the benches outside his bar were with us, upon questioning we found that they were - they were the hashers from Sacramento! Pack slowly assembled, but like all marriages doomed to fail, there was a bit of a timing issue as one of the hares arrived on the north side of 7 o’clock, not that it mattered as we were all poudning ‘gansetts.

Chalk Talk:
Gnome led us through a not entirely inacurate chalk talk - note to hares; if you’re going to use non-standard marks, tell the RA so they can explain them to us - we are drunks, after all, using chalk which was almost visible.

The Early Dates:

The beginning of trial was fun and easy to follow, though I did get a glare from a driver who disagreed with my opinion that highway on-ramps are a fine place to run diagonally across. There was some (alot) of bad zenning into and around various parking garges before we found what should have been a very obvious shot (chamapnge!) check in front of the Copley Square Chruch.

What followed was a very pleasant hash through the allies and backways of downtown Boston; through the gardens, around the Theatre disctrict - a honeymoon section of trial if you’d like. We ran past fancy threates then went on a long vacation through south east Asia (chinatown) to another round of shots - tequillia - outside the Chinatown gates. Those rub and pulls were beginning to strain the marriage.

From the tequillia trial went past some construction as both parties tried to rebuild what they once had and crossed a pair of bridges to begin thinking about (the) children(‘s musem) for another one of the almost uncountable hash sitapeeds. No children were had, but a case of the (barking) crabs showed that there had been some fucking around and that the end was near as we approached the courthouse.

Pack ran past some fancy laywer party (with bar and security) to find the hares hiding in the bushes - Sean Spicer style - with more champange, more tequilla and some food. We chased them away after taking in views of the airport and thinking maybe we should just fly away from this marriage (trial, whatever, I’m losing myself in my metaphores).

After more bad scouting there apparently was a “Mommy/Daddy” split which (I think) the Daddy’s got a shot check at Trillium? I’m unsure, the pack was about a split up as a failing marriage at that point. We tried to reground with S&M man, but only managed to find about half of what we started with. There was a bit of a death march through what counts for shiggy in Boston behind the convention center to a happy/unhappy check. The smart people took happy and after a quick group hug/gang bang ended up at Whiteys to end this fucking trail.

Half an hour later, the RA started circle; the pack which went on the unhappy split apparently went to South Afirica and back.

[*Editoral #1]
The hares were called in and I hope someone sang the “she dated a hash house harrier who’d fuck her but wouldn’t marry her” verse, but it was nearly impossible to hear the RA. The hares were made to drink for their crimes - which would be enumerated later - and we told them to use more flour and chalk because there seriously wasn’t any beer out there. We then called in FRBs and DFLs - some of which we still getting back from South Aferica. Then we called in our plethora of visitors and Barely sang us a song which, sadly, I can’t report on since I couldn’t hear it. After that virgins were called in and demented by clit notes. They weren’t worthy, but we’re desperate - like a hasher recently divorced - so we took them anyway. We then had to deal with a tragety the likes of which the hash has never seen in the last 7 years. Certified Poop Accuntant, Founder and GM of Space Unicorn, PornStar - CUNTFACE, WhoreDock - Papa Johnson - and Power Bottom H3s - was called in for ABANDONMENT! She’s LEAVING BOSTON and moving to Jacksonville, FLA! We all drank for this, and she drank, and then I think she drank again, and we drank again. I think we then tried to rename Pole in the Family? Again, I couldn’t hear what was going on - I was busy buying all the beer (there was a pause as they had to change the keg) - before accusations were opened up. I took this as an opertunity to accuse the hares of not having any beer checks. Butler was then accused of trying to lay trail to his ex (South Aferica). There were a lot more accusations, but, again, I coulnd’t hear them and continued buying beer. Eventually it was time for announcements - which are listed below, and we swang low and devored enough pizza to feed a small village.

On - ‘till blackouts do us part - On

Sunday 6/10: Taco Brunch Trail. All tacos are invited to a brunch to celebrate everyone’s favourite corgy’s birthday! Also, maybe run. Princess Billy will be there. Rage.

Wednesday (6/13): Quater Mile Queer and Bottom Wrangler are haring a mid-7D7S week trail starting at the Hong (Wrong) Kong in Phanual.

All next week: The hash will be at the Hong Kong for 7S7D - 7 days of hash kareookee, there are rumors of patches, pins, etc.

Saturday (6/23-4) Have you ever wanted to hash all night long? June Ballbuster will be the shortest night longest trail hash! Starting at the Barking Crab at sunset we will run all night to an overlook and watch the sunrise over the city.

July 13-15: Burlington Invishash


[Editorial #1] Normally I try really hard to pay attention and remember what happened in circle, but circle participation was only about 60% (WTF) and everyone else was talking. Not getting into not wanting to participate in circle, if you’re going to just drink beer and wait for us to finish so you can get your food, kindly go far enough away from circle that you aren’t drowning it out. I know it’s a small bar, but, you know, maybe shut up and join circle - it’s the reason we’re here, after all]

Pearl Necklace 2018 (7 months ago)

What: Lunar H3: Shoot star trial; Pearl Necklace 2018
Organizers: Luva Lamp, Quarter Mile Queer, Honorable Vaginal Discharge
Hares: Clit Notes, No Man on the Moon, Mud Slut, Queer and Foaming, Swedish Eagle, Glutenless, The Butler Hit It, Luva Lamp, Udder Whore, Bottom Wrangler, whatever Power Bottom H3 named Dry Hose, Quarter Mile, HVD
Bag cars: Blowjob Rimleader, the Greatest Ho on Earth, 5 ring cervix
Pack: Um, everyone else?


After failing to catch a bus, I decided to order an uber and was able to get to the prelube brunch bar in time to join Team Pink Table for donuts, on a stick, and other breakfast items. I only learned that they served beer as my food was brought, but ordered and blowed through a beermosa before leaving the bar and heading to the park to join pack.

Given how far out of the city the start was, I was generally impressed with packs ability to get to Newton center on time, perhaps it had something to do with the weather, which was amazing. As we arrived QMQ yelled at us to “get a tshirt, a cozy, a sticker and a patch” - more on the tshirts later. With the general milling around out of the way, Clit Notes ran off to lay the first leg of trail and I drew a rough approximation of chalk talk, with the properly specificed number of beer checks. We did introductions and where we could find you on the moon, and then went to chase Clit Notes through Newton.

Leg 1:

Trail left the parking lot and it took us an embarassing amount of time to scout the first few checks given how much trial we had ahead of us - and we were all sober! Eventually we solved trail around a fire station and past some pretty houses. Up and down a hill maybe? If you’re expecting a turn-by-turn recount, well, it was an 18 mile trail and I have to stop writing this at some point. Trial lead us to a park, with a marked false into a playground, and pack was lost for a bit before we solved the check out of the park and back into the suburbs, before turning back into a park of some sort. The transition from pavement to dirt was too hard for butler who tumbled for no apparent reason - perhaps the rocks just jumped up and tripped him. Trial continued through the park for a while before eventually getting to BN and BC1.


 Most people had around 1.5 miles at this point, and attacked their beers with purpose. Pearl Necklace first timers were a bit confused about how the white shirts and pens worked, but it was explained that in order to earn your pearl necklace, you had to have a signature on your shirt for each beer, No Man took off to lay trail.

Leg 2:
 We ran past a construction site, found a check back then ran around Newtonville for a Hash Sitapeed and a jaunt past Wrangler’s highschool. We ran through some parking lots, then over the pike. There was a check at an intersection which had us a bit confused, and Dry Hose went scouting down to the left. As he was turning to call that he was looking for marks, he ran right into a bus stop sign. Like ran into the sign, and opened a pretty nasty cut on his forehead; nasty and deep and bleedy enough that we had to call someone to take him to the hospital. Not like a Lift or an Uber, but an ambulance. While that  was happening trail had continued and we reached second BC, around 2.8 miles in.


In the game of switching bag cars we were now treated to beer and food and drink from Rimmy’s car. It was around this beer check where the arts and crafts tendancies came out and people started getting rather competitive on their shirt modifications. Two beers in a feeling groovy, Mud Slut took off to lay the next leg of trail.

Leg 3:

Continued through the park on red flour, then ran an loop around Bottom Wrangler’s middle school. A set of harriets went to avail themselves of the portabodies we ran the little loop and quickly rejoined us on trial which continued through the woods - a common theme on this pearl which had more dirt than pavement - and along what appeared to be a rail trail. There was a crossing over some river and then we reached BC3.


The first long beer check. There were popsicles, beers, food and sandwhiches. This is when people figured out that if you split beers with people you could combine names on your shirt, and the game of “what amalgamations can we come up with began.” After everyone was feeling full, happy and a little bit drunk Foamy and the foamling left to lay trail.

Leg 4:

Ran across a bridge (I think?) and around a car dealership. There was a joint check (zig zag h3) and a shot check (which I am so thankful wasn’t fire pepper cheetos vodka), and then trail came back out and ran down a road. Leg 4 was also the first leg of the “Stollers” - those few and dedicated souls who were strolling on the running trail - they would eventually spread their rage like a virus to infect all of us by the end, but for now they were sweep, sweep, sweeping the still majority of folks who were running. There was death march down a road to a beer check in the field.


 The ideas of BC3 - name amalgamations - spurred a competition, artistic pack name drawings. There were now two active ways of participating in the sign-shirt-for-beer. People were starting to flag and we were over 6 miles, but still only at 4 beers. Glutenless was next so he took off across the field, Actual walkers were separated from the strollers and the funners at this time.

Leg 4:

Ran around a farm (I think) and past the walkers enjoying baggo. It came very close to overlapping the last trail before winding through Waltham, though staying away from a hinted secret Treehouse check. There was no secret Treehouse check, but a shopping cart was found on trail and brought with pack. Trail went up and down a bridge (over a set of stairs which were closed), to a confusing mark before a BN by the commuter rail, eventually we found the BC, and Sweagle took off over the train tracks.

Was a fun beer check. We were drunk, we weren’t tired, and you know, happy fun times. A lady pulled up wondering what was happening, and QMQ sauntered over to her - his gate was hilarious, I wish I knew a better world, but, either way, she seemed understanding and left us alone. Since it was a Swegle Leg, we knew he didn’t need too much time.

Leg 5:
Crossed the train tracks (though you could have gone around ont bridge). The pack was able to get themselves, the stroller with the baby in it and the shopping cart over before a train came and nearly killed everyone. From there the trail proceeded as expected; even 4 legs into the PN Swegle was still running out multiple falses for each check, before eventually bringing us to a set of abandoned rail tracks. Trail was marked down tracks to a very unstable bridge with a few holes in the ties making for a challenging crossing. Trail went down the embankment and through a construction site towards Bentley. We sang “hashers, meet the hashers” for some undergrads working on their tans, I mean studing. Then ran around the sports complex and turned right to run down to the girl scout complex? I’m not sure, but that’s what butler called it.


People were beginning to get drunk, and Dry Hose returned to us from the hospital. Who can take a head wound and keep running trail? A hasher, that’s who!  NDY tried to pee behind a couple of different trees before deciding on the middle of the field. Butler took off to hare the next leg - promised as the “shiggy” leg, and road sodas were grabbed to lub us up for the shiggy to come.

Leg 5:

Was shiggy. Like, really shiggy. It ran up some powerlines and past a bee-ery (a place which farms bees) into woods. Trail was well marked with flour on trees, and the runners were able to keep a good pace. The strollers, being slightly burdened which their  rage lagged slightly behind. By the time we got to the first fence crossing, the groups had seperated to audible range. By the time we got to the second fence crossing, the strollers were on their own as the additional rage level made some of the more techinical parts of trail - climbing over trees or fences slightly more difficult. Also some bad zenning, but I’m not here to cast blame. Eventually we were able to solve trail and join back up with pack - but there were about 10-15 minutes a head and butler was sent back to rescue us.

Beer check 6:

People were edging in on 9 miles and getting more and more drunk. The half-name half-beer competition was in full effect, we were treated to “Do me on the moon” or “orgasm slut” There were also gold fish. I didn’t tell anyone because they’re amazing and I ate a third of the bag. Luva lamp went off to hare his leg and eventually we followed.

Leg 6:

Understanding that he (and we) were all getting drunk and the miles were adding up, the hare took us on what was essentially a straight shot down Trapello rd, but with one block off loops on each side, to the next beer check.

Beer check 7:

This is the stuff hashers are made of. Check 7 through 10 on the perl necklace; you’re deep in, you know you’re deep in and there isn’t much to do expect down your beers and pound your miles. Udder took off to hare her leg, with Peepers “not haring, just keeping the hares company” We were over 10 miles and udder promised us a straight, simple trial

[Scribe note]
I’m totally missing an entire check. Udder haredthe leg after the second lunch check, but the second lunch check was at check 8, and we’re at check 7.  I’m honestly confused because I have no memory of the missing leg.

[editing note: It was swegles leg]

Beer check 8: Was where the walkers (Power Bottom H3) were drunk. Very drunk. I thought running pack was drunk then I saw them. There was beer, and sandwhiches and aggressive napping. Do Me gave herself a sobriety test, and I think passed because she then climbed a tree. The HVD climbed a tree. By climbed a tree I mean like jumped up to the first split in trunk and posed. Then butler put down his cookie bag and climbed the tree. Like the whole tree, to the top most branches. Not wanting to be out flown, Swedish Eagle soared to the top on the other branch and we were all sure they were going to die. Luckily they didn’t and udder and her help went off to set trial.

Leg 9:

Ran out through the park then through Belmount center. I bailed on trial and went to the dunkin donuts for a pitstop. I rejoined the strollers (now the majority of pack) and we ran into a parking lot by some kids playing soccer.

Beer Check 9:
Yeah, we were drunk. The drive to get sign offs was still going, and we were developing the 1000 yard stare of all pearl necklaces. That look that says I can barely stand, but I’m not sure if it’s because of the distance (over 13 at this point), or the beer. As we were flagging CPA yelled that she won the hash! The first to 13! A few minutes later Rainbow echoed her joy as she completed as well. Wrangler took off to hare trial.

Leg 10:

Went up hill, pretty much exclusively. We were cheered on by some people having a porch party and who thought we were crazy for running. Little did they know how drunk we were. Or,as PoPo said “How surprised would they be to learn that we are way more drunk than they are!” There was a questionable hash sitapeed - we yelled Sitapeed at it then did some really, really bad scouting. We eventually found trial and followed it to the next check, where we did more really, really, really bad scouting. It’s possible that we were very drunk. We eventually saw the stroller walking down a street a few blocks away and join them and ran to the next BC - in the woods...somewhere?

BC 10: It was long, we were tired. There were pretzels. There was beer. What else do you expect from a description of the 10th beer check on a perl necklace?

Leg 11: Was hared by the fresh-from-the-er Dry hose, and the trusty hare companion peppers. It ran through the woods, then back into town, to the WHOREDORE check. Remember when Hodor was a happy go-lucky guy who just carried people around? A whoredore check requires pack to buddy up and go whoredore style until the next check. Fellowship and Peepshow were the only ones to complete the challenge. Trial continued through a field of youth soccer to bag car behind the softball field.

BC 11: Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m swapping beer checks in my memory. I’m describing the beer check which startedWranglers trial. The BC9 was really this one, I think BC10 was correct, so this will be the BC9 write up.

Basically, we were drunk and the post sandwhich naps took over. Mud slut passed out starfished on the groundnext to bag car, and Do Me shared the curb as a pillow with her. I had relieved myself in the Dunkins, but most of pack took advantage of the portapoties at the bc. It was getting harder and harder to find light beers - those early trial bud heavies were a challenge no one really wanted to face 11 beers in. Gummy bears and cookies were also handed out.

QMQ and HVD took off to lay the penultimate leg and at this point there were maybe half a dozen runners left.

Leg 12:
Was through watertown center, past a couple of scarey intersections then up a long sloping road taking us towards Arsenal.

BC 12:
Was in a parking lot behind an abandoned store front. There were beers, food, and the spread of 1000 yard stare. I completed and CPA witnessed me. More and more people were completing and we were all over 16 miles at this point. Luva lamp took off to hare the final leg.

Was down the road, then left a block, then down the Charles River bike path. It’s funny that I said he took off. He strolled, at a very ragey pace. However, inexplicably, there people still attempting to yog or, gasp, even run, so over less than a mile, the hare was snared 4 times. Also Do Me was almost killed by geese, but eventually we made it to the ONIN.

 A couple ice tubs of beer were brought and cold beer was provided. We circle up rather quickly as the light was dying and we were promised hash beer and warm food at the on-after. The hares - all 13 of them - were called and listened to comments, then we sang and them and they sang at us. We then called in the visitors - burlington, boners and colombo, and sang at them, then they sang at us. Dry hose was called in by Power Bottom H3 and renamed (I think?) Yeild, Motherfucker! We then accused Just Nicole of being a just. She knelt, was named, and rose “Massage a Trios.” Famous hashers were named at Pearls before, so she has shoes to fill. All PN virgins were called in, then two and three timers, the anyone who had been to 5 or more, sadly noone has been to every pearl necklace. We then called the organizers in and announced that, in addition to patches, stickers, tshirts, and beers for a day, the hash had raise over $1000 for the Make a Wish foundation, good job hashers! A couple of statie cruisers drove by and turned their spotlights on us so we sang low and headed to Millers Ale House for food, beer and revalry.

ON - you gotta earl your perls - ON