Missed a hash? Catch up on all the trash here...
|The Pajama Hash
(almost 9 years ago)
"If only you're legs were spread as wide as your marks, and your crotch was as warm as your beer" -Headmaster
I really can't do any better than that for a description of the run, but there are certain conventions to be followed when scribing, so here goes.
Theme: Pajama run (everyone wear pj's)
Hares: Target Practice, Shawsk*nk
When: Wednesday, June 3rd, 6:30 HST
Where: 973 Commonwealth (used to be T's).
Promises: Beer and pajama-appropriate mixed drink alternatives (I.E.
warm cheap beer)
Scribe: Friar Fuck
Beer Check 1: Some park in Brookline which wasn't shown on the walkers map.
Beer Check 2: The rose garden in the fens across the river from the Museum of Fine Arts
On In: Parking garage near Ruggles T station
On after: Punters Pub (where else)
Pack: An Inconvenient Poop, Beat by a Girl, Lunchmeat, Better late than Pregnant, Bisexal Bondage Bitch, Crucifux, Catheter the Great, General Ass Pounder, Goes down on Bouys, Goes down syndrome, Hare club for Queers, Friar F*ck, Headmaster, I eat Tea Bags, Jamaican me Cum, Jolly Green Vagine (arrived after run), Just Kristen => Vagitarian, Dirty litte Sanches, Just Elle, Gay Pride, Shorn Scrotum, Just Doug, Fck her in the A*s, Dude wheres my Virginity, Scrambled Porn, Spits, Necrophiliac Jack, wooden eye, Pat my Fly, Peppermint P*ssy, SATRAC, Sugar Plum Fairy, Super Teflon Dong, Taj my Hole, Virgin Ted, Virgin Ryan, Virgin Kara, Virgin Andy, Virgin Sophie, Virgin Melissa, Virgin Becky, Virgin Jack, Virgin Niomi (arrived after run), and many others whose names I didn't catch. There were about 46 hashers at the on-in.
People took the PJ theme seriously, and as I was getting out of my car, I met a young woman wearing space PJs who had arrived the same time I had (I didn't catch your name - sorry). The bar was full of PJ clad folks, including some men (Super Teflon Dong and I eat Tea Bags) who were wearing night dresses. If you felt funny walking around in PJs, imagine how they felt. Anyway the bar was spacious, PBR tall cans were $2.50, and the pack showed very little desire to leave (except for space PJs who felt hot). Finally it was time to call Bag Car and Circle. This was a ways up the road - past racks and racks of clothes. Circles on the sidewalk (even the wide sidewalks here) are a bit inconvenient - bemused passers by constantly had to be let through. Anyway the hares explained the marks, the virgins were lined up in the center, and everybody says their names faster than I can write. The walkers (I.E. Friar and Pat my Fly) were given maps. I'd normally tag along (unless the hares promised water crossings) but I need to talk to PMF.
Following a map is relatively easy, and we'd see hashers darting in and out. Occasionally we'd find a mark or two. It was getting dark.We were heading to the fenway area, towards the museum, where there was supposedly a beer check. There were no marks. Me and PMF explored every path in the area. I suggested that the beer check must be in the Victory Gardens, where it always is and we headed vaguely in that direction. I called the hotline "some park in brookline" That's miles away! Wait - people running with bags - THE HARES. We had gotten in front of the hares by bypassing a beer check. It was fairly easy to follow the trail - while on pavement. It was growing dark, and for a while I was following sounds. We arrived at the beer check which was in the rose garden. It was a beer check in name only - there was no beer. What to do? Mill about. STD and Tea bags disappeared in to the bushes... and came back holding long cat-tail reeds. There were several games that can be played with reeds - limbo, sword fight, and reaching into the crowd and tickling people with the heads of the cat-tails. The warm beer finally arrived - I personally don't mind warm good beer. In fact I've been on winter hashes where a warm cheap beer is most welcome as a hand-warmer. Here it was a little less welcome, but it's what we had. Preggers is still looking for people to join the trip to Scotland, which is sounding like a trust-me hash. If I wasn't living a trust-me life right now I'd be interested. Anyway - the police showed up. We're getting good at this. Drop the beer (in the box), and without making any sudden movements drift away. Luckily someone explained that we were a running club taking a break. Anyway it was the end of the beer check. Back to the map.
I'd been to the parking garage near Ruggles before for an on-in, so I immediately knew where to go. PMF assumed that every hash ended at a bar. It's good to have on-ins not at bars as it adds variety to trails, but we're running out of new parks and parking garages too. We took the elevator up. Most hashers will push all the buttons to annoy people taking the elevator, but nobody bothered to do this. We were on the roof deck, and the view was spectacular. I took several pictures. Hashers were rolling up in waves .. and there was no beer. There were people driving away from the parking lot, all of them seem to be having long cell phone conversations when they got to their car. Presumably they were calling security. Finally the bag car came up, and hashers swarmed the bag car like star-struck teenagers swarming around the Beatles limo. There were two 30 packs in the car. In about 1 minute there was one thirty pack in the car. Nothing to do but CIRCLE UP!
We circled up under the roof, and the acoustics were worse than in theold Boston Garden. Sorry if I didn't catch everything. Crucifux was our RA.
Comments on trail: "Too many cops", "too few marks", "if only you're legs were spread as wide as your marks, and your crotch was as warm as your beer", etc. The hares sang "Follow the Hares" (My girlfriend/boyfriends a ...). We then demented the Virgins:
Virgin Ryan was brought by GAP
Virgin Kara was brought by Jamaican me Cum
Virgin Andy made himself cum but Friar was his sponsor. His favorite animal is a pig.
Virgin Sophie was brought by Lunchmeat
Virgin Ted was brought by Just Sara
Virgin Jack made himself cum (second time)
Virgin Naiomi(sp?) showed up late and got a down-down.
The sponsors did demo downdowns and then the virgins did downdowns. At this point, a man in a blue shirt and tiedown-weave blue tie came out. The only men who wear that sort of tie are store managers and security guards. Either way, we needed to wind things down. Tiedown- weave stayed around for the entire rest of circle. He even didn't seem to mind (or didn't notice) the beer poured into cups. It was time for announcements and swing low.
Friar took the now empty 30 pack box and wore it as a hat. I could see everything except what was directly in front of me. This was fine for the elevator, but a bit of a hazard on the road.
The on-after was at Punters. Hash-cash paid for a number of bucket sized pitchers, and we had the supermarket donuts and bagel store bagels we were supposed to have at the on-in. One of the patrons asked me how many cents were in a dime. A glom* formed around Virgin Naiomi. Eventually we got pizza. By the time the pizza arrived it was very late - almost midnight. I lost my pen at some point, so that's the end of my notes. I really don't understand how working folks manage to do Wednesday hashes and go to work the next day. I ended up taking the (possibly last) T to Allston Village with GAP and Peppermint, and back-tracking to T Anthonys to get some coffee. I got a lot of favorable comments on my outfit.
|GAP’s last trail!
(almost 9 years ago)
Hares: GAP, Immaculate ErectionPrelube: Courtside
Bag Car: Friar F*ck
RA: Velvet Pelvis
Pack: Anal Beads, Bisexual Bondage Bitch, Better Late than Pregnant, Catheter the Great, Certified Public An*s, Cum is Kosher, Dude Where’s my Virginity, Dirty Latte Sanchez, Fire in the Hole, Friar F*ck, General A*s Pounder (GAP), Goes Down on Buoys, Headmaster, Hare Club for Queers, Hoover McSuck and F*ck, I Eat Teabags, Immaculate Erection, an Inconvenient Poop, Jamaican Me Cum, Jizz Mopper, Just Vicki with an “i”, a lot of other “Justs” whose names I don’t know yet—please try harder to be memorable next time. Making a fool of yourself is memorable. Moaning Lisa, My Chemical Homance, Necrophiliac Jack, Nice Tits, Nipples Erectus, Pat My Fly, Peppermint P*ssy, Pubic Service Announcement, Queerleader, Save a Tree Ride a Cowboy (SATRAC), Shorn Scrotum, Ski Bobbit, Snatchsquatch, Spank Me May I Have My Mother, Spunk in the Trunk, Stick it to the Bros, Stinky Digit, Sucks Hard for the Money, Sugar Plum Fairy, Taj My Hole, Velvet Pelvis, Virgin Cara, Virgin Dan, Wooden Eye F*ck Her in the A*s, You Oughtta Blow, about 5 others who I didn’t see or whose names I don’t know.
A hardy pack of harriers and harriettes (I’d guess about 60) flocked to East Cambridge to experience what could be the last GAP trail ever (unless of course he comes back from Baltimore to make some cameo appearances, hint hint). It was in many ways a sad day, but in most ways a glorious day, as it was evident that GAP’s ability to get people lost in all parts of Boston has touched so many.
After downing the requisite beers and shots at the prelube, the pack made its way to a parking lot across the street, where Velvet took charge of the chalk talk. We were informed that the eagle trail would be “extremely wet, and life jackets would be provided.” Speculation ensued about where this swimming might occur, with most thinking it would be a in a dirty river or perhaps a quick jump in the harbor. For most it would be neither, emphasis on the “most.” **
Trail led away from the bar, through a park, and then into some sort of secret forest village. Hard to say if it was just a trash dump or living quarters for the unlucky. We were lucky to get out of there rather quickly. Next we scattered about a sand pit/train yard, tricked by a CB3 written on a plow, until we found trail once more. Then it was through the streets of Boston until we got to the climax of the evening. Drum roll, please…
The climax of the evening was marked by a BN and true trail mark on the dock at one side of the harbor, right across from the USS Constitution, pointing across to the other side. We could see GAP, Immaculate Erection, and a few others, waving to us from the shore. Buoys estimated that it was a 20 minute swim. Most folks weren’t even considering it and left to go the long/land way around the edge of the harbor. Then there was a group of us that was considering it. First order of business was to figure out how cold the water was. Buoys estimated 55°. He mentioned hypothermia being possible at such temperatures. Next came speculation about how strong the currents would be. Then, we noticed a police boat hovering near the dock. At that point Buoys deemed it officially a really bad idea to even consider swimming, since we might possibly be arrested. I (and I think many others) were happy to defer to the D1 swim coach’s opinion. It didn’t seem like anyone was gearing up to take the plunge, so the majority of the remaining pack started running.
When we made it to the beer check, we realized that some of the folks there were looking across the harbor towards the BN dock, and had spotted swimmers in the water! Who WAS it? As more folks filed in, it slowly became evident that it must be You Oughtta and The Second Cumming.
Boom! A cannon fired (a nightly ritual on the USS Constitution, but timed portentously), and at that very moment, the police boat started quickly moving towards the swimmers. As we watched the chase from shore, a semi-panic set in. It somehow seemed logical that the police boat was going to radio to the land force, and soon we would all be encircled and arrested for public drinking. I became terrified that You Oughtta may have (finally) managed to successfully sabotage her future career in medicine. While some kept reiterating that we should probably get out of there, most of us were too absorbed in the chase to stop watching. You Oughtta was out ahead, and had just managed to out-swim a large passenger ferry. It was harder to tell if The Second Cumming, was in its path or not.
After the ferry passed, the police boat swooped in and picked up The Second Cumming. You Oughtta was only about a 150 m swim from shore. Could she out-swim the police? Um, obviously not, as was aptly pointed out by Necrophiliac Jack, as the boat was, in fact, a boat. It came up alongside her, and, reportedly, she told them she was “fine” and wanted to keep swimming. But alas, the police did not oblige her request, and You Oughtta was also picked up by the police boat.
On the boat, the police lectured the two swimmers about the danger of hypothermia and informed them that most of the people pulled out of those waters were already dead. Go You Oughtta and The Second Cumming for beating the odds! “It will, however, make a great drinking story some day,” conceded the cops. Or in about 20 minutes! After giving their names to the police and officially refusing medical attention, the two hashers were let out on the pier and trudged to the on-in, still managing to arrive well in advance of bag car.
So for those of you who weren’t there, can you guess the on-in? OBVIOUSLY the Hong Kong. Everyone was thrilled to get there, and then not thrilled to discover that Friar and the bag car were lost somewhere in Greater Boston. Some of the savvier hashers had their IDs with them and were livin’ it up while the rest of us wallowed outside. Luckily, there was some outdoor entertainment in the form of a party trolley full of nursing students who had just graduated. Their shirts displayed the motto of the evening—“Nurses need shots too!” That group piled into the HK while the trolley blasted such classy tunes as Britney Spears’s “If You Seek Amy,” which has a really deep hidden meaning, in case you didn’t know. FINALLY, GAP ran down Friar, somehow managed to squeeze himself inside a backpack, and directed the bag car to the on-in.
Since this Hash Trash is way long enough already, I won’t say much about circle, but it was rather hilarious. Virgin Cara and Virgin Dan were demented, GAP was accused of being the worst hare in the history of the Boston Hash, You Oughtta and The Second Cumming obviously drank for being over-achievers, Dirty Latte and Wooden Eye also drank for jumping in the harbor but not swimming across, Buoys for putting on deodorant before the Hash, and medical professionals for being associated with the party trolley nurses. All in all, a fantastic evening.
GAP, you will be sorely missed. Best of luck to you buddy. May the Hash go in peace,
(about 9 years ago)
Theme: Rambo Hash (people dress in camo, full military gear, and cover themselves in fake blood).Hares: Placentos the Freshmaker and Bend Over Mommy
Start: The Jennie Johnston bar (JP)
beer check 1: On a terrace in the Larz Anderson Park in Brookline
beer check 2: Behind a fence at an abandoned looking reservoir in Brookline
on in: Mary Anns Bar in Cleveland Circle
The Pack: Just Rob, Just Ltle, Menopause, Target Practice, Wooden Eye, Virgin Jake, Virgin Jenne, Anal Avenger (DC), Better Late than Pregnant, Dribbles, Clamburger, Floppy Dick, Fire in the Hole, Goes down on Bouys, Goes Down Syndrome, GAP (latecummer), High A*us, Hoover mc Suck n F*ck, I eat Tea Bags, Jamaican me Cum, JGV, Virgin Eliot, NAMBLA, Necropheliac Jack, Pat My Fly, Spunk in the Trunk (Latecummer), Peppermint Pussy, Friar F**K (scribe), Spoonfull of Semin, Stick it to the Bros (Latecummer), Sugar Plum Fairy, Super Teflon Dong, You outhta Blow, I know I'm missing at least one or two people who I cannot recognize by sight and who mumble their name.
This hash trash was written on a bus going from New York to Newton, from notes taken on trail.
There was a relatively small crowd at the Jennie Johnston when I arrived, but some had taken the "Rambo" theme to heart. Spoonfull of Semin worke full camo and carried a stabbing knife in a harness. STD wore his camo. Others wore camo, red bandanas, or squirted themselves with blood. Goes down Syndrome brought pickles in place of bananas for the virgins. After a few opportunities for beer we were ushered out and circled up outside a chirch.
One sign of a well laid trail is that everyone stays together, or at least stays together in groups. The hash slowpokes Pat my Fly and Friar F**K were always in sight (or at least earshot) of other hashers. I don't remember this ever happening before... There were a lot of checks on trail, and "straight" was rarely the obvous answer. The trail went through the arboritum,but we were soon back on the street and going up a very steep hill. I was with Pat My Fly, and we couldn't identify where we were. Stick it to the Bros was coming up behind us - evidently he started late. Gap joined him as did Spunk. Spunk stuck with us, and we explored a dead-ended trail which ultimately led thorugh a nursing home. We were now in Brookline, and headed for the first beercheck in the Larz Anderson Park. It was a beautiful sunset, and the beer check was on a terrace overlooking a hill. We were last ones in so I found a PBR and looked forward to enjoying it in relative peace and quiet. No sooner had I opened it but COPS!!! There's a well known drill for this. Drop the beer (put it upright in the cooler if possible - in case this is a false alarm) and mill about. If the cops don't seem to be leaving, walk slowly away from the cops, but try not to be in the back. We walked down to the carriage house which is the auto museum. Nobody was finding trail, but GAP found trail in the field below. One mark - turned out to be paint.
We were now in the very trendy area of Brookline. Driveways looked like streets, and streets looked like driveways. The pack had divided into small groups now, but we were always in signt of one group of people who swore that they were on but hadn't seen a mark in a while.
We passed a house which seemed too big for a private house, and a pool that seemed to be too big for one family. This was the Park School - a rambling stnoe building. Even the school bus seemed to be a little higher off the ground than the ones which take the common kids to school. The school dog came to chase us off the playing field. It was dark - should have remembered to bring a flashlight. Marks were fairly regular, however sometimes one had to look for them. Houses were huge, and the streets were narrow. We passed a reservoir and trail ended. There were yells in the distance, and poeple were trying to find away over the fence. Beer was supposedly almost gone, and we saw the hares (this doesn't count as a hare snare since we bypassed the beer check). People were trying to find places to cross or climb the fence, and there were some real acrobatic performances fence jumping. The cops drove by, but aparently nobody was given a hard time about tresspassing. Route 9 was ahead, and people were wondering where we were or where the nearest bar was - it's a long way to Doyles. Finally we crossed Route 9 and were headed for Cleveland Circle and good old Scary Anns.
Scary Anns isn't as scary as I remember it, but there is the same lack of decor and the old familiar smell of floor cleaner and puke (though in the past those would be reversed). Beer was flowing and we crowded into the side of the bar for circle.
Bouys was RA. AA - most of the (scratched out). Comments. Very shitty unmarked dark trail. NOt enough cops, blood, private property, pickles. The pack sang "It's a small dick after all" and we squeezed pickles on the hares... The hares sang "The end of the month", and I added a new verse...
when the blood starts to trickle
you can stuff it full of pickles
...which ended the song. Gap was called out as a latecummer. Anal Avanger was called out as a visitor and commented on the "cheap ass beer". His song "You're stupid You're stupid".
Virgin Tessa brought by Jamaican Me Cum
Virgin Jenny brought by Clamburger and would not get off a bus full of lesbians.
Virgin Jacob brought by Fire in the Hole and remembers his first blow job.
Stick it to the Bros and Spunk in the Trunk were FRBs and GAP was a DFL (this is probably the first time this has happened). AA called a Chinese Fire Drill. Much of the pack went up for not wearing combat gear. Gap, Bros, Necropheliac Jack were arguing about someithg. Backsliders. Jamaican Me Cum had gone to Vegas, Just Kayla had some excuse, as did I eat Tea Bags.. Random accusations. Jamaican me Cum - Fire in the hole. Fame Virgin and bringing. Fwce Her - she was taking a picture. Friar returned Pepermint Pussy's 08 Mismanagement tag. F*ck me up the ass - just graduated. STD - in circle for swat people. Better Late than Pregnant is going to the UK Nash Hash in Scotland and wants hashers to join her.
There was a lot of cheese pizza (and rumor has it there was one pepperoni pizza) for dinner. I got a ride with Preggers to my car.
|Attack of the Ginger Kids
(about 9 years ago)
Hello hashers. This was the second part of the GAP trail marathon. The theme was the Ginger Kids, though only one hasher (Bouys) dressed up. Here's the info.
Name/Theme: Attack of the Ginger KidsHares: GAP (of course) and Fire in the Hole.
Bag Car: Spunk in the Trunk.
Start: Razzy's (585 Sommerville Ave, Sommerville MA)
Rum Check (Eagles only): somewhere on the train tracks?
Beer Check: The stone tower near Powderhouse Circle.
On-in: The Sligo (Davis Square Sommerville)
3's Company, Better Late than Pregnant, Cum is Kosher (latecummer), Harpoontang (latecummer), Friar F*ck (Scribe), Hare club for Queers, HEADmaster, Hoover Mc Suck n F*ck, Legally Bound and Gagged, Necrophiliac Jack, Nice Tits, Nipples Erectus, Peppermint PUssy, Stick it to the Bros, Sugar Plum Fairy, Taj my Hole, You outhta Blow, Virgin Christine, Virgin Melissa, Virgin Megan, Virgin Sara, Virgin Scott, Virgin Lance, Virgin Bala, Virgin Erin, Virgin Pascal, Virgin Martha, Just Nicole, Catheter the Great, Goes Down Syndrome, Wwofie (visitor), Lizzardo (St Louis H3), Just Paula, Snatchsquatch, Velvet Pelvis, Jolly Green Vagine, Goes Down on Bouys, Bleeps Sweeps and Creeps, Menopussy, The Second Cumming, Grease my Monkeys Nuts, Floppy, BBB, Sketoha(?), Thet Tue Mauz(?), Just Megan, Return to Grenda, Shawshank, Target, Spits, Just Heather, Just Mike => Certified Public An*s.., Sinky D, Assume the Position, and probably many others who said their names faster than I could write or check them off.
At the start
Even though I spent my day hanging out by the river, I still managed to be almost late at Razzy's. Here Bouys (dressed as a Raggedy Ann doll) was busy putting freckles on anyone who wanted them. I had prepared a cheat sheet with hash names (taken from the few published hash trashes) and was busy trying to check off the people I recognize by sight (not many). Wwoffie found me. I'm the only person he remembers from a Burlington Invihash and we talked for a while. I had time for a beer and it was time to circle.
We had an enormous number of virgins, more virgins than bananas, so I guess some of them had to share. Trail was to have the usual markings, and a turkey / eagle split. What wasn't explained was that the eagle had an extra rum check. Next came the hard part (for the scribe) "Dictation exercise: write down as many hash names as possible in the 30 seconds provided". Hopefully I did OK. Then we were off..
Trail headed up hill in true GAP style. The first landmark of note was a circular house, looking very abandoned and boarded up. "I live down the street, and I've never seen this before". Hashing is a great way to see a city, or even your own neighborhood. Trail then headed out towards Broadway, over the tracks, and from there it was anyones guess. Then we came to the Turkey Eagle Split.
Most people did the eagle, but all I could see was the back of the pack, and most of them did turkey. As usual I got separated from the pack, and then my phone rang with a vaguely work-related call (I.E. someone with a job lead). It's hard to talk intelligently while wandering around aimlessly desperately looking for chalk marks. I wandered on and off trail, guessing the beer check to be in the direction I was going (towards Tufts). Luckily I stumbled onto a mark. There was a small crowd at the Powderhouse Tower. I assumed that as usual I had almost missed the beer check and people were packing up to go. Instead I found that this was the turkeys - we were still waiting for the eagles. Fire in the hole came in, wondering where the rest of the pack was. The cooler was full of beer - usually it's empty when I get to the beer check.
Eventually the eagles came in, and Hareclub told me a little about the trail. "It was on the tracks, and there was a train coming while we were on the tracks". There was a rum check on the tracks. It was now very late and dark.
The On-In and Circle
There was a very short trail to the on-in - which turned out to be the Sligo Pub. We all attempted to fit in the back room, which was like trying to get on the T during rush hour. Food was Mac and Cheese, all very plentiful and filling. After a short while, with beer slowly trickling in from the bar, Velvet Pelvis (who was acting RA) called the hash to circle. A true circle was not actually possible, but the hashers simply backed away from the center of the floor as if avoiding a bad smell. Virgin Melissa had ripped her pants, and this was one of the first orders of show-and-tell. I'm trying to make sense of my notes, and you're guess is as good as mine.
Comments on the run
Fria, No real pelee the filtyy. Only blue holder is a carnival. Not enough trains. Trail of the year (Stinky D). Shitty trail The hares sang a few verses of "Gang Bang" and were off.
Virgin Christine - brought by Just Nicole
Virgin Bala - brought by Shorn
Virgin Martha - brought by Stinky D
Virgin Pascal - brought by Shorn
Virgin Eric - brought by Stinky D
Virgin Megan - brought by herself
Virgin Melissa - brought by Dude Where's my Virginity
The virgins brought by Stinky D were required to fake a gang-bang.
Wwohoo gave us the following ditty (to the tune of Sex is Boring).
Each line is repeated by the pack.
We've got virgins
We've got virgins
At the hash
At the hash
Gonna get em f*cked up
Gonna get em f*cked up
in the a*s
in the a*s
Kosher (who is on both feet now) and Harpoontang were called in as late cummers.
Same Shirts (many)
Shorn Scrotum - Male lover - vacigh belhammer (OK - that's what my notes say)
Someone was accused of bad directions to the hashers.
Just Mike who has been on 21 runs needed a name. He was sent over to the main bar while we got suggestions and debated a name. We eventually settled on Certified Public A*us (short for CPR).
The circle closed with Swing Low - a little awkward for people crammed into booths or pressed against the wall. Since I had taken the train from Lowell, and I seriously didn't expect circle to go on for this long, I needed to leave at slightly after 10. When I left, JGV was talking to the crazy French woman at the bar, and you can read all about it in the humor list. I stopped off at Sullivans Tap for one last beer, and caught the last train of the day (actually the first train of the next day) back to Lowell.
|Marathon Beer Check & Crossroads
(about 9 years ago)
Hares: General Ass Pounder, Spank Me May I Have My Mother
Bag Car: None
Beer Check: None
On-In: Spank Me's place
Distance: about 6.9 yards
Weather: cool and windy, upper 40's?
Scribe: Spank Me May I Have My Mother wrote this from "memory"
Late Cummers: Sugar Plum Fairy, and probably others
Without notes? I'll try: Peppermint Pussy, Taj My Hole, Just Vicky, Beat By A Girl, G String, Goat Throat, High Anus, Sketchy Ho, Save A Tree Ride A Cowboy, Super Teflon Dong, Catheter The Great, Dude Where's My Virginity, Harpoontang, Better Late than Pregnant, Wang Chunks, Ass Spelunker, Late Night Drive-Through, those brothers from Sweden, that guy from London, a young blond virgin, and about 40 more hashers I can't remember and probably just pissed off because I forgot you.
When I, Peppermint Pussy, GAP, Taj My Hole, and Just Vicky got to Crossroads at 4:00, it was at capacity, and there were apparently only a few hashers already inside. Ditto for the nearest backup bar — the new Corner Tavern (formerly the Last Drop).
But Taj had been given strict orders by Hare Club for Queers to spend the remainder of the Marathon weekend's cash on beer for everyone. So we were not going to let overcrowded bars get between hashers and free beer. Like a well-oiled machine of gay men on fetish night, we sprung into action — Just Vicky bought flour at the Sketchy Mart, which GAP started to use to lay trail from Crossroads. Taj and I shopped for beer at Marlborough Market while Just Vicky and Peppermint Pussy hit the chips and cookies aisles. I updated the hotline and went to my place to hide all the gay porn and warn hash crasher Ass Spelunker that he would not be able to rest after his 26.2 mile run.
Trail was Beacon to Mass Ave to Marlborough, ending at 439. GAP laid flour arrows so big that people were tripping over them. He even had a check, because, being typical GAP, he got lost on his own trail and had laid a mark down my alley instead of to my front door, so he had to mask an incorrect arrow with a check.
Someone realized that since we technically had a trail, we should have a circle, so Wang Chunks stepped in as RA and gathered people on my porch so that we could really annoy my neighbors. I was handcuffed to GAP so that I wouldn't run away screaming. Comments on trail included the obvious: "BEST GAP TRAIL EVER". Hares did their down-downs and tortured people with "Follow The Hares".
Many visitors were called in to circle; this gave the Swedes the chance to sing something that sounded like Chewbacca gargling a chicken, but we politely smiled and pretended we were listening.
G-String had brought a virgin, who was demented by a visitor. As usual I forget her name, but she was so young that I'll call her "Just Don't Tell Daddy I Served Alcohol to a Minor". (And if she ever escapes from my storage closet, I might need the services of one of you lawyers.)
There might have been a few accusations, but Wang was either bored or cold, so circle was mercifully short, without even doing Swing Low.
The partying continued, even after Taj's hash cash budget was exhausted. Not even two broken glasses and Late Night Drive Through passing out on the sleeper sofa could stop things. A spontaneous $5 hash cash collection and 2 more beer runs and some pizza kept the action going until maybe midnight.
You overachieving alcoholic wankers managed to drink 237 beers. Now if only Marlborough Market sold kegs…