Hash House Harriers

a drinking club with a running problem

Hash Trash

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

| Turkeys Together, Turkeys Forever! | That time GAP visited and we allowed him to hare a trail...trash | 3th An*l Water Wars | Picard Day Hash Trash | Spermaid Goes Down On Revere |

Turkeys Together, Turkeys Forever! (about 2 years ago)
What: Turkeys Together, Turkeys Forver!
Where: Sligos
Hares: Anal Disco*, Chunderelli, Chunderelli
Bag car: No man
Visitor from Abu Dahbi, Motherload, Just from North Carolina, Just Anne*, Boner Doner, O’Boner, Wikipedophilia, Bring Out the Gimp, Wifeout, Willy Wonka and the Backdoor Factory, Vagatarian, PTS-DD, Virgin, Luva Lamp, Twat My Mom, Dribbles, Hoover McSuck and Fuck, Goes Down on Bouys, Can’t Eat Pussy, Pussy Passport, Mudslut, O’Boner, Friar Fuck, Orgamsm Falmon, Shits and Ladders, others I forget...

Was at sligo, which we took over rather quickly. While the bartenders admitted that Django was cute (and everyone loved corgis), he was not allowed inside, so O’Boner sipped her ice-tea on the sidewalk, while we sipped our PBRs in the air conditioning. Eventually bag car showed up and I’m assuming the hares “ran” away. We finished our beers and CEP led up in chalk-talk with the question “What your favourite way Disco got you drunk?” - Blue Drink, and Happy/Sad were the winners.

[quick note: I looked up the trail section names for different names for turkeys, and almost every non-english language calls them “[some other country] chicken” where [some other country] is the country they were first imported from...anyway...back to the trash...]

Trail  Meleagris:

Chalk talk was actually two checks into trail, but we scouted around and found trail leading through the weird warren of streets between Davis Square and Mass. Ave before eventually crossing Mass ave, in a manner which can only be described as packs best approximation of how a flock of turkeys would - with a wild indifference to the presence and movement of motor vehicles. After more running around the neighboorhood between Mass Ave and the commuter rail tracks we came upon a Turkey/Eagle split at the bottom of a hill; and people actually took the eagle! It was a false up the hill; turkey trail turned right and ran through some condos before coming to a park with tennis courts and a cool tunnel.

Wine Check:

There were two bags of wine. They were drunk.

Trail poults:

Did not go through the cool bridge but wound through the neighboorhood some more before cross the tracks (I think, I’m not gonna pull out my phone to check) and we came quickly to the beer check in an abandoned parking lot.
Beer check:
There was beer, some of it was cold.

Trail ocellata

Left the beer check and ran past a cop who couldn’t care less about us. It then cross the street and looped through an apartment complex. We were finally getting our legs going when we stumbled upon a bottle of fireball.

Shot check laeta aut tristis es:
Was fireball; we were both happy and sad.

Trail Galliforms:

Was out of the condo/apartment complex and to the edge of Doherty park.

Beer check gallopavo:
There was no bag car (she had gone to the original beer check), but the hares had decided that turkeys don’t run up hill, so they stayed at the bottom and one of the hares was dispatched to get the beer and the walkers. Since we arrived at the beer check at maybe 8:15, we were told we had to finish the wine and shots (at least) before leaving. A half an hour later, the hares left; at 8:50, they altered us they were at the onin and we left.

Trai Meleagris gallopavo silvestris:

Was around the park, past a softball game, and to Paddys.


Circle, a bit chaotic, started shortly after we arrived. We called the hares in and got comments on trail - mostly “gobble gobble” and “not enough blue drink.” We informed the hares that they should have used more flour and chalk, and they then sang about their favourite car; I perfected my verses, but wiking a song is a horrible disease and it’s spreading.  We then called in FRB (me!) and FBI (Just from North Carolina) and then DLF - Friar and Mud Slut; they were lonesome on trail. We then called in the Virgins - there were actually 3 of them, despite the listed attendance. They are all skiers, and I believed groomed? I was getting beer; anyway they were rather confused as we explained our traditions, but figured out what “down-down” meant easily enough. Before moving fully into accusations, just Anne was called in and accused of being a Just and telling CEP an embarrassing story on trail! She was in the air force but left because she was in a threesome that didn’t go as planned; again, i missed the story as I was getting beer, but that’s what I’m going with. We quickly decided that “Vaginal Discharge” was an appropriate name, so while Just Anne went down, she will be known henceforth and forever more in the world of hashing as Vaginal Discharge. The floor was then opened up to general accusations and the visitor from Abu Badhi was called in and sang us a song of his people. Hash crashes were called in, so one of the virgins - now a just - who tripped over a speed bump drank. There were more accusations, but I forget them, so announcements were called for (see below) and we swang low.

On - Turkeys together, turkeys forever - On


General: Please try to keep the side conversations to a minimum in circle; if you want to talk go to a different area of the bar. It’s hard to hear the RA, acusizers and accused if everyone is talking.

Saturday: PooF H3 on the Cape. Go to for details and to RSVP - in order to get trail info you need to RSVP.
Saturday: Pink Taco H3: Maverick Market Place Cafe, 11am, HST

Wednesday: A trail?

Friday-Saturday: Campout and trails in the Harbour Islands. Talk to Twat/Dry Hose.

September 17th: Seacoast H3 Red Dress Run -> It’s pub crawl in Dover, you can take the train up and back. RAGE

October 14th: Boston AGM -> TOP RAGE! I Feel the need, the need to rage!

November: Sadie
Decemeber: Antibuffet
Janurary: Robbie Burns
Feburary: Moon away
March: Burlington Mardi Gras/Philly Green Dress
April: BH3 Marathon!!!!
June: Who plans this far in advance?

That time GAP visited and we allowed him to hare a trail...trash (over 2 years ago)
What: Return of GAP Trail trash
Where: Maragairtas, Wellington
Hares: General Ass Pounder, Vagitarian, Immaculate Erection
Bag Car: Mastor Gator
Pac..A shit ton of people..luckily Fellowship took attendance, otherwise I’d never have remembered half of you...

Fellowship of the Cockring, PoPo Peepshow, Double Fisted Fence Fucker, Blackcock Down, Just Erik, Capt Connecticunt, Peppermint Pussy, Spank Me May I have my Mother, Hare Club for Queers, O'Boner,  The Butler Hit It, Stick it to the Bros, Silent but Deadly, Twat My Mom, Just Ian, Clit Notes, Pat my fly, Wikipedophilia, Orgasm Falmon, 3 Ring Cervix, Can’t Eat Pussy, Glutenless Maximuss, +2 Coonass, Yankee Pay $5 More, Friar Fuck, 5 inch Penalty, Goat Throat, Dribbles, High anus,Clit van Winkle, Pussy Passport, Just Konrad, Just Matt (toe shoes), Just Alex, Mud Slut, No Man On the Moon, Willy Wonka and the Backfoor Factory, Virgin Kent, Just Lila, Too short to tuck, Ski Bobbit, THE 2nd Cumming, Necropheliac Jack, E=IMaDouche, Udder Whore, Mr Rogers, Bend Over Mommy, Sloppy Thirds

I arrived after the hares were already gay, so I have a limit ability to report on what happened before trail started; however I can say that Too Short To Touk ordered a margarita right before pay away was called, and he downed it!

Chalk Talk-

Had the ominous start of the bag car not being there, so we reviewed marks for the visitors, virgins and backsliders with our bags on; the question was “how will you die on a gap trail?”

Trail General:

The very first mark was a Turkey Eagle split, and, having been warned (or at least promised) level 5 (or above shiggy) I darted through traffic to follow trail. Trail took great effort to cross all 3451415315913 lanes of the fucked up rotary by Wellington before eventually abandoning the creek to run us through some light-urban-burbs. We ran up a hill, then down a hill on a called two and out, before running back up the hill and down another to a song check in a park. We sang about the perils of the female condition to a playground full of very confused tweens before dashing off towards BJs, abandoned train tracks and gravel fill behind a Wendy’s. However trail went into none of the aforementioned shiggy, instead sticking to the pavement and winding back under the Orange line. We passed a shockingly named restaurant (Dockside) and then had a song check by a loading dock. Following the RAs instruction I sang a long song (the engineer song) to wait for pack to catch up, and despite missing a verse or two, and messing up the order of some others, it worked perfectly as I was singing about “the whole damn thing was covered in shit” Butler showed up! Trail continued past a set of condos, and 2nd turned into zen to the BC - Bros also followed him, and they were correct, but trail actually continued down in front of the construction before turning in towards the riverside park. It should be noted that I zenned through some trees, got tangled in vines and fell on my face scrambling to get free while pack laughed and ran past. Getting to the river walk we turned right, and after a few hundred yards found the Beer Check by the side of the river.

Beer Check Sweat Floridian Shit:

We drank the Gainsborough equivalent of Gansett Shandy, but it was somehow worse. There were also some grapefruit IPAs and water. We all stood around and listened to our elders talk about the last time trail had some through here and cross the river to a beer check on the island in the Mystic. However, the hares, being NCAA couches and doctors, decided that already green water, after the run off from the first rain in months, would not necessarily be safe for swimming, so we just chilled on the river watching the families stroll by wondering why they had come to America to share their river walks with sweaty drunks.

Trail Ass-

The hares left and we got bored, so Jack and I left and walked trail until pack caught (basically the exit of the park); from there trail cut through another industrial lot and cross the Mystic river. We hit a check and a YBF. On returning to the check we found a Nips sitting in a car wondering WTF we were doing; hashing, we told her? On pavement she asked, agast? Verily, we said, and invited her to join. She demurred saying something about dogs, good beer and bleeps, or something. CEP and (and think a just) disappeared down the bike path in a generally southerly direction and never returned. Fellowship was leading about the other 3/4rds of pack when he stopped and, without evidence, said he thought we might be running Turkey/Walkers no-no, so we turned back and scouted every other direction, before giving up and actually following the marks. Shockingly, they led us to beer; arriving at the same time as a group of very beleaguered looking turkeys, speaking of which...

Trail - Turkey Death March Lost Trail

The Turkeys started off bold and strong, as turkeys normally do, with cries of “TURKEYS TOGETHER!!!” oh, how little did we know how true that would be. The first check took us right away from the Eagles. At the second check, we immediately struggled to find the direction we should be going in. After we discovered that marks had changed from chalk to washed away flour, we continued straight across  (as Dribbles called it ) “that damn bridge that we always go over. “ Pack continued along together through a neighborhood where we started noticing that checks and some marks were not as noticeable. This is about where most of us came to the horrible conclusion that since this was a dead-laid trail, and it had poured, most of the checks were gone.
            Pack somehow came out to a song check along main? Street.  We stayed a while to make sure that everyone had caught up, and at the request for medium length songs. After singing a not well known song (Manana), pack realized we had lost Wonka and Dribbles. Terribly worried for their safety, Twat left a note that we left and we continued on….. only to cross the street and have no frickin clue where to go.
I am going to short cut this next part of this only to say that it sucked. There was a washed away CB, washed away checks, and washed away marks. If you were to visit the area of the turkey trail today you would find about 100 crossed off pack marks, going in each and every direction. So many pack marks were left that we were down to three little nubbins of chalk by the time we were done. It was only by the Deus ex Machina of Nips that we were able to find our one (AND ONLY you Eagle bastards) BC. The turkeys did come into the BC happier than anyone has ever come into a BC before.
Turkeys preserved and we are stronger for it. TURKEYS FOREVER!
[guest scribed by O’Boner]

Beer Check Perfect timing:

As the Eagles and Turkeys ran into each other in their rush for beer, GAP stood up and proclaimed “Eagles and Turkeys coming to the beer check at the same time! This is a perfect trail!” We told him to shut up and we drank beers and ate food.

Trail Pounder:

Was pretty much a death march to the “Gateway Center” (that’s what google calls it). The first section was the remainder of the bike path, which included the hilarious conversation of Jack and I poking fun at a Just, calling him young, when he yelled “I’m not young; I’m 29!!!” Jack and I nearly tripped over ourselves laughing, but did think it complementary that he thought we were in our mid-20s; totally based off young, spry, looks and not a general tendency towards debauchery.

At the end of the bike path there was an interesting trail element that needs mentioning; we, for about the distance of 2 blocks, overran (no-no) turkey trail from earlier. However, the were flour marks and all pack marks had been crossed out and arrows laid next to them; so trail clearly turned right and the leading dozen or so people - a mix of original turkeys and new eagles - followed marks pretty well until we got to another instance of frogger across whatever fucking highway that is that leads towards the “Gateway Center” [I seriously hate the roads over there], and found marks leading to the a small clearing behind Micheals.

However, that was only a dozen out of the maybe 3-4 dozen hashers on trail. The rest apparently reached the end of the bike path and decided “Fuck this, lets follow turkey trail.” Now, in their defense the hares and only crossed out the first two or three marks, meaning that if you ran far enough you’d find marks, checks, etc, which, apparently pack did. Somehow they figured out their error and winded up at the end, but they filtered in so slowly that some were still arriving as we were circling.


As previously mentioned pack took their good time coming to the ONIN, which was good because so did bag car. Eventually Mastor Gator showed up with bags, beer, and pizza. His car was unloaded and the sweet nectars and delicious nutrients were brought to the waiting hashers. As we were filling our faces a security guard showed up and warned us about coyotes! We assured her that would sing loud and proud and then warned Friar against passing out in the bushes.

The hares were called in and commets were taken; mainly that both trails turned into a death march with none of the promised shiggy. We told them to use more flour and chalk, and they sang us about their favourite 70s car. FRBs were called in, and it was blackie and, since no harriets volunteered themselves, Falmon was called in (even though she came into circle was we were signing El-Camino). As we were singing to them Pat and Ski walked in to claim DFL, without opposition. We then called in a very eager Virgin, who thinks that sheep moo when they cum, and taught him how to drink. Visitors were called in - one from Guan, one from Noth Carolinia - and they tried to sing a different version of the PooFlinger song! Just Conrad was again accused of being a just and again called into be named. We got closer this time - Border Shitter, and Bloody on the Botom - were strong contenders but we threw him back and continued with accusations. THE 2nd Cumming was accused of losing his Happi Coat again, which turned into a quasi-social since when one ex-GM drinks, they all drink! After that Boner and I traded acquisitions, Butler and I were called in for same socks (BOSTON SHIGGY), and circle started to lose steam, so we moved onto announcements (see below) then swang long.

On - GAP trails aren’t so bad... - On


Volunteer for Mismanagment! RA, Hare Raiser, Dementress, Scribe, Beer Bitch positions open! Talk to Udder or I.

TONIGHT: Eager 4 Beaver, Farewell Wonka Trial! Start is 1 Nason Terrace, Woburn MA at 6:30HST, $1 hash cash.

FRIDAY: Color HASH and BBQ, 6:30HST at Charlies Kitchen in Harvard Square, $15.

SATURDAY: Seacoast Float Hash, 15 River Rd, Plymouth, NH. Float starts at 11, $5 for circle beer and orange food. BYOB for the float, and food for grilling after. Crash space available.

Wednesday, 8/17: Show Me is haring and needs a cohare (maybe a just?) to help.

Friday 8/19: CAPTURE THE BEER Moon Hash! Start is Sunset Cantina on Comm ave in Boston, 6:30HST, $5.

Saturday 8/20: BREWERY BUSTER trail; Ballbuster trail hitting almost a dozen breweries in one day! $3 HC for beer mosas and cricle beer, bring cash for beer checks. Start is the Marine Industrial Park off Summer St, 10:30HST

Saturday 8/27: August Taco River Hash!
Saturday 8/27: PooF on Cape Cod!
Saturday 9/3: Harbour Island hash!

Saturday 10/15: BOSTON H3 AGM: TOP RAGE!

November: Sadie
December: Antibuffet
January: Robbie Burns
Febuery: Moon Away
March: Burlington Mardi Gras

3th An*l Water Wars (over 2 years ago)
What: 3rd An*l Water Wars Hash!
Where: Silhoutte Lounge
Hares: Easy as 123, Bum Fucking Vagabond, Shart of Darkness*
Bag car: Just Anna
Pack: There was a lot of you wankers, here’s my best memory: Rub a Dub Tub girl, Double Fisted Fence Fucker, Goes Down on Bouys, too short to tuck, bend over mommy, O’Boner, Boner Doner, Black Cock Down, Salty Mud Flaps, E=ImaDouche, Wikipedophilia, Fellowship of the Cockring, PoPo Peep Show, Can’t Eat Pussy, Pussy Passport, No Man On the Moon, Twat My Mom, Willy Wonka and the Backdoor Factory, Krusty the Meat Miser, Wifeout, Goat Throught, Skull Fucker, Orgasim Falmon, Sex the Final Frontier,  Blowcone, Marblelous Asshole, Captian Connecticunt, Clit Notes, Pop Cum Ear I’m Enfected, Vagatarian, Ass Stache, Show Me the Penis, Chunderellie, Just Rose*, any number of visitors, justs, virgins, transplants, etc whom I forgot.


I arrived at the un-hashly hour of 5:30 to an fairly empty bar filled with regulars. The bartender came out, apologized for what happened the last time we were there (not sure what she’s talking about) but gave me a free beer. I changed into hash attire and was presented with a wiffle-ball bat with a pinita head rammed through it, which apparently we had left behind. In a short while the hares arrived and pack slowly filled in. We traded war stories from Friday, drank beer, ate popcorn and generally had a good time. The hares left on time and after arming ourselves with the water guns they left behind, we followed.

Chalk talk-

Was held in the parking lot between the Burger King and a car repair place; marks we reviewed and the pack was inquired as to what got them wet. CEP debuted his “RAs umbrella” which protected half of him from half of the water guns being squirted at him. The important announcement was that the T/E split was right at the first mark, and I ran Turkey.

Trail turkey-soaker:

Headed down Brighton street and immediately hit a check at the next block. A good amount of turkeys saw a hill and ran up it, but we’re turkeys, so I scouted across the street towards the river, and, after not darting in front of a statie, found marks through the parking lot and across whatever that other road is. There was a song check across the road (near the ever-changing restaurant) and I got through 3 verses of the Engineer song before pack had just about enough of that and started attacking me with their water guns. We ran across the footbridge over the Pike to our first Water War Check (water ballons) where we met up with the Eagles - my guess is they took the road bridge by WGBH over the pike, I’m sure a certain racists hare had to get her miles in- and a mid-trail water ballon fight ensued.
It was as amazing as it sounds, and y’all are jealous you weren’t there. We attracted a good number of looks from passing drivers driving through our water fight, and after all the ballons had been expended, we struck out in search of trail.

From the check I scouted towards Hooker street and found absolutely no marks - I have an amazing talent for horrible scouting - but eventually looped back and caught up with pack near a jello shot check, where we all quickly down the sweet sugary refreshment, traded some fire (our ammunition was running low), before continuing scouting trail in the general direction of the Harvard Sports Complex, or whatever it’s called. Zenned from a check by a gas station through a field yielded me the sight of the hares standing around (sans bag car) at the beer/water war check.

Beer Check Good Beer:

There was not a shitty beer to be had! Magic Hat, Founders, Seirra Nevada all flowed from gloriously cold cans! A bucket full of ballons was produced and pack quickly abandoned their beers in search of ammo and tragets; Wifeout threw ballons in the air, I used my height (release point) to rain down ballons over people’s craniums [with a particular affinity for the hares]), and there was general mayhem. It should be noted that this was an almost perfect beer check since not only were the beers of high quality and cold, but there was a port-a-pody! The beer check also featured hipsters playing bike-polo in the hockey rink.  Eventually the hares dashed off and with the beer and water ballon supplies used up, we chased after them

River trail:

The second leg of trail exited the sports complex and dragged us the Kingdom of Douches (not the fun E= or land kind) known as HBS, which was defaced with dick, tit, song and hash sitapeed checks. Another round of bad scouting lead Marbles and I to storrow, along which we ran until we found trail crossing the footbridge over the highway and a Turkey/Eagle check at the base of the Weeks bridge. The eagles, those brave and foolish soles who at this point had been reduced to Falmon, Marbles and Just Rose* ran across the bridge only to find a YBF and an arrow pointing to the river. The turkeys ran along the river until we got to the JFK bridge, where trail turned back into the Harvard Sports Complex and we followed Douche, of all people, to a hash sit-a-ped by the football stadium. Trail crossed the soccer fields and rolled under that not-secure-at-all perimeter fence. There was a BVC as we dashed, unguarded across Storrow to BN and ONIN


The beer, ballons and bags were unloaded and brought into the park by a strangely flickering light on the bike path. Once “wet” and “dry” zones were demarked, the last ballon fight was had, then the first ballon parts pick up challenge! Eventually everyone was ready and we started an elongated intro-to-circle while the hares and bar car ran off to get more beer and food. We sang long songs, and Fellowship and PoPo sang us their backslider anthem, FRBs, DFLs, and virgins were devirginized. The hares returned (sans beer) and so we fast-tracked the rest of circle. New mugs were distributed and were christened with down-downs. As we were running out of beer Just Rosie was called in for having hashed for the better part of a year and still not being named! We asked her, politely, to get on her knees and the Sex regaled us with a story of how in her younger days (before she Brexited) she hooked up with 3 guys 3 nights in a row (how did she find the time!), but, on the 4th day, found that one had given her a present, so she had to call all of them and ask them to get checked; the cultrip (the middle guy) was found out to be not only a mysterious present giver, but also a magician! Many names were bantered about and it was decided that Just Rosie would be known as  Abra-Clamditya always and forever more. With the beer gone, circle business complete we moved on to announcements (see below) and kinda swang low? (We ended with the first verse of more beer). Pack then descended on the food (Bolco burritos) and then we migrated to Bus Stop Pub for on after where the hash bought round after round of beers and my mind kinda got fuzy.

On - trail of the year - On


If you want to volunteer for Mismangamgement talk to Udder or I; open positions include, scribe, beer bitch, demontor/ess, and others can always use more help!
Pink Taco Trotters need hares for August, talk to Clit Notes
Pink Taco Trotters is looking for people to help with Sadie Hawkins, in November, also talk to Clit Notes

Up cuming hashes:

Wednesday 8/10/16: General Ass Pounder is returning to hare a trail! If you haven’t heard of his trails, they were legends before the invention of the written word; will we crawl threw a drain pipe? Swim out a beer check in the mystic river? Swim across the harbour? Get lost in the woods for hours? Who knows, come to trail and find out!

Thursday 8/12/16: Wonka’s Farewell Beaver trail - details TBP

Friday 8/13: COLOR RUN AND BBQ!! Starting in Harvard Square the Hash Color Run is returning and will ONIN at the return of the Hash BBQ!

Saturday 8/14: Seacoast float hash in Plymouth NH! Rage!

Friday 8/19: Capture The Beer Moon Hash - like capture the flag, but with beer!

Saturday 8/20: Boston Brewery Buster Ball Buster Hash! 10 breweries, 12 miles, ball buster trail (bring cash monies for beer on trail), also, we need a bag car!

October 15th: AGM

November: Sadie

Decemember: Antibuffet, Holiday Party, Sliegh Hash

January: Robbie Burns

Feburary: Founders Day, Moon Away

March: Burlington Mardi Gras



Summer 2017: 4th Anal Water Wars!

Picard Day Hash Trash (over 2 years ago)
Picard Day Trail-6/15/16
Hares: Wiki and BlondieCone
Bag Car: Foreskin Abortion
Pack: Fellowship, Popo, Famine, Glutenless, Buttler, 5 Inch, Bottom Wrangler, Friar, Marbles, Dribbles, Luvalamp, Dry Hoes, Blackey, Blow Bot, Twat, Douche, Altered Boy, Just Konrad, Chuderelli, Just Jenny, Slutty Charmes, Just Megan, Vaginacologist, Anal Apologist, Just Matt, +2, Wonka, Kirkland, Bonor Donor, 2nd, Sweagle, Virgin Brett, Queen Ebola the 3rd, Senor, Jello, Virgin Joe, Just Erik

I felt that trail started on my way to trail as I walked over a giant pink penis drawn in chalk on the sidewalk right in front of the Harvard T stop. Apparently that penis had nothing to do this us, which I find surprising… but I guess other people like dicks too. Pack gathered at Shays Wine Bar for a beer (or a wine), and received their Star Trek pins. Or are those Enterprise specific? As you can tell, if you were expecting a hash trash rife with star trek references you are in for a disappointment as alas to my parents dismay I am not a treky. I arrived, mingled, and since it was 6:45 when I showed up and the hares were gone already I expected to be imminently away. However, for some reason unbeknown to me we stuck around past 7 likely leaving the hares wondering where the f*ck we were. Chalk talk, as with most chalk talks, thoroughly confused the virgins and visitor. We introduced ourselves and said what we would do if we were in the nerdy star trek deck thing with all the screens. At least I think that is what people were talking about.

As soon as we ran off I got promptly lost because I ran to the Harvard T stop thinking that dick I had seen earlier was a hash mark. It wasn’t. So I ran back to Shays and started over by trying to follow pack marks. This was such a futile mission that as I ran past Friar (no walking trail so he was soldering through) I told him I would do what I could to mark as much as possible. Littering marks behind me I saw vestiges of pack crossing the pedestrian bridge near Harvard and saw a weird 3 pronged Turkey Eagle mark leading up over the bridge. The ‘you are a clearly an idiot’ branch pointed towards the JFK bridge so I ignored that one and followed the other two branches over the pedestrian bridge. At the apex of the bridge one of them directed me to jump over the edge onto a number of crew boats and likely kill someone or get hit by a stray oar. I ignored that branch and continued straight through to the Harvard Business School. Sadly being so far behind pack I skipped many a tit check and dick check, a song check, and a group hug. I don’t think the hares got the memo that we started a half hour after them because they seemed to be trying very hard to slow people down. I caught up to the stragglers of pack at a playground in the business school and was actually back with the group by the time we reached a hash sitapeed in the big HBS parking lot. As a group we decided that doing it on the small grassy hill sounded safter (despite the incline) than doing it in the middle of the parking lot entrance road. Nobody quite fell over so we continued on. Almost all of pack found a false down the street a bit and changed course to cross the street and head into lower Allston. I got really confused when I found a mark that had been turned into a check but nobody really explained why. That was when I got lost for the second time but eventually I decided to run to the lower Allston man made hill thing where we once had those sweedish fish jello shots. Alas all I found up there were pot smokers who told me I was sexy as I ran past them. Fortunately from the vantage point of the hill I could hear pack so I found the beer check!

Wonka made friends with a neighbor who requested a song so we sang Canal Street. Eventually the Hares were gay and we followed. As we were running off Slutty Charms and Just Megan ran up and requested roadie beers from bag car to sustain them. (smart harriettes) Trail led further through Allston to the bridge over the mass pike by Pizaria Regina. On our way there we found Friar who had sadly missed the beer check due to the lack of walkers trail. I lamented with him briefly over the stupidity of the hares for having no walkers trail and he said “this is fun”. I doubt the sincerity of his words but had trouble determining his intended level of sarcasm so I promised him more pack marks and ran on. There may have been 3 tit checks in a row. After crossing the bridge most of pack tried to zen which led to them missing a shot check, the rest of us found the shots and happily drank blood wine in a sketchy park next to strange people hanging out at a scooter garage. Eventually we ran after pack figuring we would have plenty of pack marks to follow. This proved to be wishful thinking since we got very confused at the big intersection of Harvard Ave and Comm Ave.  (Please read the addendum on how to actually use pack marks at the end of this trash)

Eventually we found pack in the park behind the car dealership and we drank wine and beer. Again the hares left and we followed. We ran down streets that led us to a check in front of a big hill. We ran up the hill following marks until we found another check. From that check there were no marks so we milled around lost for a long time. What I learned later is against all odds this was actually Blondie’s screw up, not Wiki’s. Go figure. There may have been some technology used on trail but PoPo figured out where the hares were and I announced, screw this lets all run to Ringer Park because that is where the beer is! You don’t have to say that to hashers twice. We ran towards Ringer, found a true trail mark over Comm. Ave on our way, and showed the visitor a taste of shaggy before finding CPA and Shitonya awaiting us at the on-in.

Circle did not get busted by the cops nor did anybody get stabbed. (to my knowledge) We sang in the hares, told them trail was shitty, and Wiki sang us something lovely using his patented one note singing technique. FRB, FBI and DFL were people but I don’t remember who. (I don’t think DFL was Friar!) Shitonya (Burlington) and Queen Ebola the 3rd (Dallas, TX) sang for us. Popo de-virginized Virgins Joe and Brit. There was some accusations, some announcements, and we swang low. Immediately after that someone (probably CPA? Called for an Urban ugh but since we were out of beer only a handful of people stripped and ran after her) The rest of us followed Fellowship who promised us more hash beer at the Sill!

-Orgasm Famine

Pack Marks: Different Kennels use different pack mark methods but please adhere to the Boston method in Boston. Pick a mark that represents you and includes a directional clue. Then when you leave a check mark indicate the direction you ran. If you end up going the wrong way return to the check, cross out your mark, and re-mark your new direction. If you don’t check a direction but have chalk and hear an on-on called as you are hanging out by the check mark, indicate your direction from the check in case people are behind you. Please do not mark checks in any other way. It causes confusion since nobody knows what you are doing. 

NEXT WEDNESDAY- Goat is looking for a virgin hare to co-hare.
7/8 – INVISHASH Campout weekend in Burlington. Rego is still open.

8/12 - Hash BBQ

Spermaid Goes Down On Revere (over 2 years ago)
What: Spermaid Goes Down On Revere
Where: Bill Ashes
Who: Spermaid and Bottom Wrangler
Guest staring: Revere Police, and Piss Off Townie*
Who else:

Blondie McFucks A lot*, Marblelous Asshole, Chunderellie, Glutenlous Maximus, Five Inch Penatly, 3 Ring Cervix, Pop Cum Ear I’m Enfected, Wikiepodiphilia, E=I’MDouche, HoseA, Just Texan, Virgin Texan, Other Virgin, Salty Mud Flaps, PoPo Peepshow, Dry Hose, Black Cock Down, Can’t Eat Pussy, Fellowship of the Cockring, Orgamism Falmon, others I forget.


I got there as bag car was called, so I have no idea, but here’s a guess. Since it’s the blue line pack arrived in 5 minute intervals and quickly took over the side of the bar. The townies and local were surprised at our appearance, and we assured them that we were just friendly drunks who also liked running. The idea of ever leaving Bill Ashes was strange to them, but they understood drinking and didn’t kick us out this time. Eventually hares were, late comers arrived, bag car was called and we left the bar for chalk talk.

Chalk Talk:

Happened; there were a lot more marks reviewed than were used on trail, there will be a quiz later.

Trail Fishhook: (So named because while there were no fish hooks on trail, the trail itself looked like a fish hook)->

Pack started scouting in both ways (we don’t care which way you go) down the beach and inland, but determined that the hares didn’t bring flour (pitty, lots of good shiggy in Revere), and limited our scouting to pavement covered areas. Eventually we found trail going down the beach towards Boston which we followed to a song check at a rotary. There was a false marked inland, and Butler, forgetting that we had just determined that trail would be pavement pounding, ran down the beach. Trail did not go down the beach, but instead turned into the quant sea side neighborhood of wherever the fuck we were. As we were yogging merrily down the streets a child called to me “why are you wearing an amazing galaxy-print kilt?” to which I replied “because I’m amazing!” [If you have a choice between printing the truth and the legend, print the legend] and trail continued to a hash sitapead which the hash attempted on the side walk, but nearly fell over, so they moved to the road. Again scouting in every direction was technically necessary since trail went straight then randomly (un marked turn?) turned right to loop past a previous beer check before doubling back on itself and beer checking at a playground, complete with kids!

Beer check Playground (there was only actually one of these…)

The beer was had and we stayed off the to the side to allow the chillons room to play and not be scared by the sight of 30 adults in various forms of racist attire (there was a  lot out last night folks). I have no exact recollections of conversations, except that I would ninja my way around sneaking sips from peoples beer because “I wasn’t drinking” [more on this later]. With parents becoming concerned, the hares left and we scampered after them.

Trail Almost Up Hill:

I am going to have to thank the hares for leading us around instead of up and down over the hills in Revere point (as I’m calling it), though not before getting pretty much all of pack to bite on a long YBF right out of the gate. After not seeing any marks for a while, “last mark” was called and we found that the last mark was a False, so we ran back to the check and followed trail around the hill to a fish hook check, and a true trail down a grass slope. For those who didn’t follow true trail, but instead ran directly down the slope there were some prickers and light shiggy to deal with, but eventually we jumped a retaining wall and ran along the road to SN/SC. Quick note about the retaining wall. Last night was the debut of my new “galaxy print wicking kilt” (which is amazing!) but it’s made of light weight fabric that loves to fly up so, to the cars on the road, sorry not sorry for what happened. To the hashers, well, y’all know.

Shot check on the beach:

Was apparently strong, but I was still in my “not drinking mode.” Teams were formed and some people ran into the waves to test the waters, others skipped stones. HoseA and I had a grand reunion and traded stories about Voodoo Monkey 8, which was fun and all, except that these stories – “there was no trail because the hares were on acid.” “No, there was a trail, I ran it!” “Ha, no, Bleeps and I yelled OnOn and ran into the woods and people followed us, but there was no trial.” – which are fine stories, until we got into the naked messages, disco tent, orgies on the dance floor and general beyond the pale level of rage that is VDM. The Just was like “Are all campouts like that?” kind of in awe and shock to which we shrugged…anyway, the just being sufficiently scared of the group he joined, we finished the shots and ran off.

Trail Almost Beer Check:

Trail from the shot check clearly went up hill. We knew this for two reasons; firstly the hash always runs up hill, and secondly the hares had told us it was A to A and there’s no way a trail can go into Wintrhrop/Easite and back to revere and not be a surprise ball buster. Surprisingly enough, trail was up hill! At the top of the hill there was a check and on-on was called in both directions; one direction was down into the bogs (great shiggy for a different trail) or up another hill, so clearly the downhill was false but we waited for pack in front of the Rereve boat club with “Friggin’ in the Riggin” not a hundred yards from the song check we saw Beer Near, but no one yelled, because there was a cruiser (the cop kind, not the fun kind – Gimp wasn’t haring), parked on top of it. The hares had been snared, by the cops and were in the process of figuring out what to do. It was recommended that they move the Beer Check, which they did.

Trail Not Quiet Beer Check:

We decided to give the hares 5 minutes, but told them to lay song checks a long the way to make it fun. We also told pack, or at least those who don’t listen to the news, that two men had been beaten (and one died) in the area over the past few nights so cops had increased patrols and someone had already reported a “gang of runners drinking in a playground” so…that happened. Trail was a straight shot to the beer check, though everyone saw tits, dicks, or whatever they wanted, we had two rousing song checks, a hug and a sitapead before running into the loading area behind an abandoned Shaws.

Beer Check Shots Fired!

A quick count confirmed that only Butler and I were on the Perl Necklace which BCd back there (CPAs toilet seat was not fount). There was beer, there was faux popcorn and fun was had; also I decided to drink so my memory will get fuzzy from here on. I don’t recall and particular conversations, though Fellowship was amazed that bums hadn’t taken over the shaws. The hares eventually scampered away (and we watched them go). CEP and I had a brief choir practice, joined by Glutenless, going over Balls to Mr. Bengles and The Sexual Life of a Camel, feeling good about my ability to remember verses, I was going to meander over to another group of hashers when A FUCKING BOMB (okay, it was a really loud, perhaps double M80) went off in the back yard next to us, followed by a townie yelling “I bet y’all will shut up and move along now!” Or something to that effect; not wanting to start WWIII, we left post-haste.

Trail Back to the Beach:

From the beer check to the beach nothing of note happened; there was a beer and a traffic cone was found and brought to circle. The ON-IN was on the beach across from the start.


Once pack had trudged over the sand to the tidal area and beer reinforcements were had (3 30 racks, plus warm harpoon in bottles), circle formed and happi/rev coats were put on. The hares were first called in for their shitty trail and comments were given; too many cops, not enough explosions. Despite this, not shots fired were called on the hares, and instead we instructed them, in song, that they should have used more flour and chalk. They then sang to us about their favourite car, and were dismissed from circle. Circle started off with FRBs – it was DOUCHE – and FBI – Orgasm #nosurprise, and then DFL – Butler. Next on their knees were the visitors – HoseA and a Just – from Austin, and the Just likes girth, so remember that boys. They sang about when it’s incest time in Texas, and then we called all Texans in so the Virgin and Salty joined them, and I’m not sure what they sang. The virgin from Texas, having already done a down-down was called back in, along with his counterpart from Arlington, were called in to be demented. Popo did her thing – topless this time, though that seems to happen more often than not – and inquired them of their favorite barn yard animal, and their orgasms; after than she tried to ask what the square root of 69 was, but the virgin from Arlington cut her off and yelled “8 something!” prematurely. It happens to all of us, so she moved right on to demonstrating down-downs; which they completed and they will now be justs, or whatever. Speaking of Just, Just Jennie was accused of hashing since the winter and not being named, and we called her in on her knees. She was a good sport, but no names stuck so we threw her back and moved onto accusations. Right off the bat Cum Ear accused Five Inch of getting on his knees  - a charge he accepted, and he called 3 Ring Certvix in as the reason why he was on his knees, a charge she similarly supported. CEP sang them some song about having sex, and then opened the circle up to accusations. I accused anyone who had ever done a down-down at the Cove before it burned down (I didn’t really, but that’s what I meant to do, so, whatever, see my previous comment on Truth Vs Legend) so Butler, Douche, Friar, 5 Inch and I drank to the departed OnIn. Spermaid and Bottom Wrangler were then called in because it was the razing of the Cove which lead to their infamous encounter in the surf, and drank as well. At some point Douche was called in, and I was pulled in for “When One GM drinks” and we grabbed Butler since he was wearing a kilt. There were more accusations but I was 3 surprise beers deep at this point and circle was devolving into a main circle and 3 massive private parties. There was a great moment though, and no one was accused of it, but it will be recorded here, where after a song the only sound was the sound of maybe a half dozen hashers pissing into the sand. Accusations continued and Just Ryan (I think, whatever) was accused of picking up a cone and bringing it into circle. After that anyone who had ever done a down-down out of a cone was called in, and, finally, cone in hand, Blonde McFucks alot was accused of having a shitty name and not being blonde. Therefore, Blonde McFucks Alot went down and BLOWCONE came up; hence forth and forever more in the world of hashing Blondie McFucks Alot will be known a BLOWCONE (or until we rename her...again). It was getting cold and windy and there was pizza so after announcements (see below) we swang low.

On – Once more into Revere Dear Hashers, Once more into Revere – On


TONIGHT: FREE BEER AT BOSTON COMMON -> Show up between 4:30 and 7 and sign up to volunteer for the Corporate Challenge (hand out water, etc) then follow marks to the super secret FREE ON-IN (hint: It used to be a British Protectorate and has Kerooke and Meatsticks, though you can’t Kareoke Meatstick)

Saturday: Eager 4 Beaver Trail #69, 12-Noon Beaver Standard Time at Gimp’s place in Bilrica. Bring food for a potluck and maybe beer for drinking into the night. There’s crash space, so bring whatever you want to sleep in.

Sunday: Eager 4 Beaver Trail: #69.69: Fatboy starting in JFK Park near Harvard. (Note, if you’re a racist and are running the Tory Row 5k, feel free to join us)

Wedensday 6/15: PICARD DAY TRAIL -> Start is Shays, also in Havard.

July 8-10: Invihash in vermount! Rego now:

August 12: Boston Hash BBQ (announcement forth coming)

Epilogue – The On After

Immediately after we swang low, and had some food, a good dozen hashers stripped and ran naked into the surf; it was quiet a site to see a dozen shining white bodies diving under the waves and coming up screaming. Were blow jobs given, maybe? After the swim the pack needed to dry off and warm up so they went back to Bill Ashes for more beer and warmth. The friendly vibe the accompanied the pack on their first entrance was gone and the townies had been spoiling for a fight. The bartender sided with her people and refused service or over charged hashers while the pack tried to make friends with the locals who were having none of it. Something happen to WifeOut and pack left in a huff. The long blue line ride back to the civilized world was only tolerable because of the road sodas they brought with them and had a contest as to who could post the most on social media about how much they hated Revere.
Or something.
I wasn’t there, and no one who was can remember it.
(Or have another BEER!)