Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Blue Moon Hash #2

Hares: Cocksmith, The Crying Gay
Bag Car & Navigator: Just Amanda, Vagetarian
Pre-lube: Red Hat Cafe near Government Center
Weather: Clear and cold (20s)
RA: SUPER Teflon Dong
 
Pack: Glitorus, General *ss Pounder, Cum is Kosher, Mr Papagiorgio, Invisidick, Saskapoon, Bloody P*ssy, Peppermint P*ssy, Hoover McSuck'n'F*ck, P*bic Service Announcement, Octop*ssy, Father Shishkaboob, Just Mike, Crucifux, e=I'm a Douche, Nipples Erectus, Time of the Munch, Tampon Jelly, Bondage Barbie, What Can Brown Do To You?, Schindler's Fist, Tw*t My Mom

Wangers –OR– People That I Don't Recall Seeing On Trail Or At Circle But Who Did Show Up Either Before The Hash, After The Hash, Or Both: Wang Chunks, An*l Beads, Dirty Latte Sanchez, Catheter the Great, Dude Where's My Virginity, Beat By A Girl, Krusty the Meat Miser, Shawsk*nk, Redtail Swallows, Stretch P*ssy

So it turns out that this may not have been a real blue moon. I am no longer in any way sure what a blue (blew?) moon actually is so I'm just going to shut up and talk about trail. Blue moon or not it was the last Boston-area hash of the year!

A very large group of hashers congregated at the Red Hat Café much to the bemusement of the locals (oh, wait, that isn't news. Moving on …). The Red Hat did have red jello shots, upon hearing which SUPER Teflon Dong immediately ordered 5. Not all for himself. Really.

After extricating the runners from the drinkers, the pack left the lovely Red Hat Café and spontaneous RA visiting from goodness-knows-where-anymore SUPER Teflon Dong led an energetic rendition of "Michael Jackson Likes Little Boys." Saskapoon was already drunk at this point. Remember this fact.

Pack found trail pretty quickly, through a parking lot, behind the State House … and through the winding streets of Beacon Hill. Somewhere along the way we managed to lose trail for no good reason except that it looked like trail would go around a 20-foot fence. Oh and those false trails didn't help but we pretty quickly learned that all the flour trails were falses and started ignoring them. At least until they stopped all being falses. Trail wound back over Cambridge Street and past a bunch of cops and the Whole Foods before taking us on a guided tour of a bunch of hospitals. Right about when I lost my bearings there was a turkey-eagle split. The eagle leg led up some stairs and down into the parking lot for Mass Eye & Ear, location of the first beer check.

Bag Car wasn't at the beer check because she had gone to find a parking spot. Unfortunately all the way around, she was delayed getting back due to parking in a garage and losing the ticket in the dashboard of the car … and while Just Amanda and Vagetarian's hands may fit some other places just fine, they didn't fit down the dashboard of the car.

Somewhere on trail Tampon Jelly had found a frilly pink …. I don't know – dishcloth? He said it must be a harriette's negligee. Well it did have satin on the outside. Perhaps in his dreams harriettes wear square pieces of cloth about 1 square foot in size for clothing but not on a cold December night!

Also at this beer check, Saskapoon announced "I wish I were a smokin' hot chick!" In his defense, he was drunk at the time. Remember this fact.

Pack took off because we were cold and had been there for at least 15 minutes. Trail led down Storrow and did *not* go over the pedestrian bridge but instead wound through more of the West End. At one point there was a turkey-eagle split and the FRBs announced that the eagle trail was a YBF. Tricky hares!

After dangerously proceeding through Leverett Circle (a few hashers jumped out in front of cars, a particularly bad idea at that intersection!) we found a park with the second beer check. Rather, we found the hares claiming that this was the location of the second beer check. But bag car wasn't there. Apparently the pack isn't supposed to leave until bag car leaves or something. Whatever. We were cold. And were cold again waiting for beer – but the beer arrived and all was well. At this beer check GAP shared a couple tricks of the trade including how to make beer float.

Eventually we realized the hares were away and since we were cold again, took off.

Trail wound through the park then towards North Station. When in doubt, trail goes through … as it did in this case. Trail was marked with yellow sticky notes; emerging on the other side the pack pretty quickly figured out that trail did not go over a two-story concrete wall but instead led around the wall, over the dam by the state police and to the no-name park under the Zakim Bridge.

Pretty sure our RA was drunk by the time circle started so there was much craziness, singing of songs, and handing out of tags to people who attended both blue moon hashes.

Accusations:
  1. Hash crash – Bloody P*ssy (enabled me to say the word eponymous in a sentence, never a bad thing!), Bondage Barbie, The Crying Gay, P*bic Service Announcement
  2. Dumping beer (alcohol abuse!!!) – Tampon Jelly
  3. Moonburn – Bloody P*ssy & Hoover McSuck'n'F*ck
  4. Serious situations (or some such) – Crucifux for her engagement to I Eat C*m, and Immaculate for his son's bar mitzvah.
  5. FRB/FBI (aka cheaters, apparently??) – Father Shishkaboob and Octop*ssy
  6. The hares were made to shotgun beers because bag car was so late to the beer check.
Then Tampon Jelly danced around with his pink thing.

Finally all attendees of both blue moon hashes partook of the bottle of Blue Moon Grand Cru that was provided for the occasion. Nice of them to make a special edition drink in honor of our hash!

At some point along here Saskapoon wanted to say something about the hash drunk, whose birthday it was that day. Saskapoon was drunk and apparently forgot that the Boston Moon Hash is *not* the Boston Hash, whereupon Saskapoon was nominated as hash drunk of the Boston Moon Hash. The pack roared in approval, and we now have an official hash drunk!

Finally, realizing it was cold and we were due at The Cellar for on-after, circle ended and we were out.

- Bloody P*ssy

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Blue Moon Hash #1

Hares: Bloody P*ssy, Bondage Barbie
Bag Car: Hoover McSuck `n' F*ck
RA: Glitorus
Pre-lube: Victory Pub in East Boston
Weather: Clear and mid-40s (some light rain started up as circle was ending)

Pack: Octop*ssy, I Eat Tea Bags -> The Crying Gay, The 2nd C*mming, High An*s, Invisidick, Just Amanda (Houston transplant), Just Amanda (Stuttgart transplant), Cocksmith, Bring Out the Gimp, N*pples Erectus, Hash Mattress, Inspector Gadget, Chunnel (I heard she got renamed but she was Chunnel that day), D*ck Jockey, Just Melvin, Far From F*cking, F*cks All, Just Ben, Mooseknuckles, Peppermint P*ssy, Father Shishkabob, Just Mike

Not the brightest idea in the world to have the hare write hash trash but I guess that's what you get and, after all, never let the truth get in the way of a good story. Sooooooo …

From Victory Pub, trail headed down to a not-at-all-dangerous-to-be-finding-trail-around rotary, and from there a couple of blocks to the base of a hill and then UP three flights of stairs to the Madonna Queen National Shrine, perfect location for a t*t check, followed by a d*ck check 1 block later before trail headed DOWN the same hill the pack had just run up. Suckers.

From there trail went around a curve over, and through the Suffolk Downs T stop. On the way, one hasher (to remain nameless) just HAD to write their hash initials in wet pavement. Leaving our mark in East Boston … the first beer check was just after the T station in Belle Island Marsh Reservation. The beer check location was particularly notable due to the planes landing at Logan flying about 200 feet above. Invisidick was the first runner to the beer check, mainly because he managed to get lost on trail and zenned his way to the beer check. While we're on the subject of Invisidick, he managed to show up for a moon hash with advertised shiggy without a cranium lamp, OR a cranium cover. Oddly enough, he took up Bring Out the Gimp's offer to borrow a spare cranium cover, but not fleshlight. Wish I'd remembered that when I was filling out nominations for the Hash Darwin award.

After the beer check, trail wound through the reservation with a false trail over a bridge ending by some crazy-looking structure … maybe a lookout tower or something, before heading back to the main road, through a ball field, through some tennis courts, up a hill, back down a hill, and then straight through the marsh. Luckily it was not high tide but nonetheless I managed to take a wrong step and sink in up to my knee (luckily I could get out, stranded hare would make for a fun snare for everyone involved but me!), and one of the other hashers managed to have a marsh crash as well. This segment of trail was accompanied by much whining about potentially toxic sludge and the potential presence of rotting mob bodies.

Trail continued down an access road, near the beach and paused for a song check at the bottom of a hill by a highly decorated house. After climbing up the hill, trail wound around to give the pack a lovely view of Boston before heading back down the hill. At this point Cocksmith decided to cut across the lawn which was not received well by the property owner who promptly shouted "No no no no no no no Get Off My Property!"

After this, the pack followed trail through puddles, a stand of sumacs, a bunch of construction equipment, and over a fence before continuing through the projects and then through some very, VERY dark streets in Winthrop. I mean, what up Winthrop can't you afford ANY street lamps except on major roads? Sheesh … anyway the pack eventually emerged for beer check #2 which was at the other side of Belle Island Marsh in some scrub grass. At this beer check, the beer was supplemented by some blue Gatorade with blueberry vodka.

Due to sh*tty planning by the hares, we nearly ran out of chalk and had to borrow some from the pack but I was somewhat redeemed by storing said chalk in my bra. Not sure where Bondage Barbie put hers.

Following a sufficient pause, the hares departed leading the pack past a bunch of boats, behind a carwash and Dunkin' Donuts, past Belle Island Lobster & Seafood, and over to the ritzy neighborhood facing Logan Airport (no, that's not a contradiction in terms. There is water in between the two). At this point there was a turkey-eagle split, with the turkeys running on the road and the eagles descending to crawl along the rocks by the water. Trail reconvened by the Orient Heights Yacht Club, site of another d*ck check (apparently missed by the pack, sadly ….), and then ran along Constitution Beach in true Chariots of Fire fashion, ending between the hockey rink and the ocean. Somehow the pack got lost for about 5 minutes at a check about halfway along the beach, but eventually made it to the end.

Songs sung on trail included End of the Month, My Girl's a Vegetable, and I Used To Work in Chicago (when not being interrupted by planes flying overhead).

Here is a map of the trail, with some of the high (and low…) points noted

Notes on circle are a bit spotty but here is what I remember:

Hares' song: Free Beer for All the Hashers

DFLs: The moon GMs, Cocksmith and I Eat Tea Bags ambled in after circle started. Not entirely sure what was keeping them together on trail so long. Planning the next moon hash, perhaps? Yeah, that must be it….

Comments on trail: Not enough planes, checks too small, not enough marks with a smiley face and "BB" next to them, not enough d*ck checks, not enough t*t checks, no one ran on the Eagle trail, too much Air Lingus and not enough c*nnilingus

Winner of best spandex: Hash Mattress. Winner of worst spandex: I Eat Tea Bags.

Since I Eat Tea Bags was a moon GM without a moon name, the decision was made to name him. I didn't follow all the ins and outs, but The Crying Gay beat out I Prefer It in the Rear. I Eat Tea Bags will henceforth be known at the moon hash as The Crying Gay.

Due to sh*tty planning by the hares, there were only about 45 beers (including 12 Blue Moons, let it be known!) 30 blue jello shots, and the remaining Gatorade/vodka for circle, so Hoover volunteered to go out and get more beer. Before he returned with an additional 60 PBRs, the pack had been reduced to drinking blue Gatorade mixed with vodka for down-down drinks. Which would have been fine except that the ratio of Gatorade to vodka was about 69:1.

Following circle, the hash attempted to fit all the trash into the solar-powered trash compactor. It didn't work. A hardy contingent headed back to the pre-lube for the on-after but most hashers headed home. I later heard something about a "hash crash of the year" involving Hoover, a bunch of other hashers, and the 2nd Cumming's bag, but I was too busy downing free drinks at Victory Pub. I must say the locals at this particular bar were very bemused by the hash, to the point of insisting that Chunnel not leave on her own when she was clearly leaving with a decent-sized group. Good to know chivalry is still alive and well in East Boston.

- Bloody P*ssy (with help from Cocksmith and Bring Out the Gimp)

Sunday, November 22, 2009

The Mad Hatter Hash


Hares: Nice Tits and Just Jess (Chunnel)
Bag Car: Nipples Erectus
RA: 2nd Cumming and Necrophiliac Jack
Dementors: Beat By a Girl and Jamaican me C#m
Scribe: The Maid of Honor
Where: Pre Lube at the Powder House Pub 

Pack: (or as I like to call them: those F#ckers who wouldn't stop coming through the door making me write so much instead of drinking) An@l Beads, High Anus, Cock Monkey, Sh!tonya (Coolest H@sher from the north), Phbbbbzzt?, Hoover McSuck 'n F#ck, Suckit Wrench, Jimmy Crack Whore, Sugar Plum Fairy, Watergate, F#cks like a Rabbit, Piss Stop, Just Matt, Cocktologist, F#cksaw, Just Ted (Mooseknuckles), Cum Fly with me, Wicked Witch of the Wet (German visitor!), Tampon Jelly, Catheter the Great, Dude Where's my Virginity, Just Emmie, 5” penalty, Spank me may I have my mother, Sextra Credit, Octop#ssy, Bend Over Mommy, Goat Throat, Beat By A Girl, Hare Club, Just Mike, Spunk in the Trunk, Just Sager (A La C#nte), Bring out the Gimp, Grease My Monkey's Nuts, Far from F#ckin, Fire in the Hole, Granny Sex?, Just Jason, Mr Bean. 

Virgins: Virgin Andy, Under-aged Virgin Lea, Virgin Alden (dad of Virgin lea and Just Jason), Virgin Cat, Virgin Emma, Virgin Evan, Virgin Paula, Virgin Sarah (or as I think of her: “HOLY SH!T YOU MEAN SHE HAS A TWIN!?!?!? and to be referred to as by her future name of: Fire in the other hole!) 

Late C#mmers: Wang Chunks, Willy Wonka and the Back Door Factory, Jamaican me C#m, Bringham Tounge, The Buttler Hit It, Shawskank, Queer leader, Stretch P#ssy, Floppy D!ck

God I hope that is everyone. Took me long enough to write that all down. If I missed you, than you are probably not that cool for not introducing yourself to me. Now back to your social phobias and no heckling the Scribe! If this is not the case than you proved unmemorable. My suggestion would be to submit your name, number, and willingness to wear a furry costume while running on the side of a full be3r to the scribe. I digress!

The Pack started our day out at the Powder House Pub. (for all you future Hares this is a pretty god On-In. Very cheap be3r and pizza located next door. The owner has screwed us over with space a few times... but at $6 a pitcher we can be forgiving)

A mad mad assortment of hats was indeed on display. AB had a flasher hat, 2C had a bunny cap which later fellated him, and MOH demonstrated a proper respect for safe hashing by wearing a safety helmet. Virgin Alden had a goofy hat, which seems all the more appropriate as he brought us his under-aged virgin daughter. While we are very accepting of virgin sacrifices in the H@sh, we do insist that they can be legally inebriated before we do so. Soon... So Soon! (All creepiness brought to you courtesy of the mind-bending, Pedo Stache I'm sporting for next week's Stache H@sh at Our House East, 2:30 HST 11/29)

Interesting side note. I am writing this trash out on a new laptop. Apparently there is training period to get the spell checker in line with some of my terminology. For instance, “fellated” it refuses to accept or even give a comparable replacement for. And flagellated is fun but not what I was thinking just now. Save it for Stocks and Bondage round 2. 

Pre-lube notes:
AB: “Your stache is so awesome! I wish I had one to warn the kids about my proclativities. So jealous MOH!”
2C was labelled as “size M”

The Hares set out and the pack went outside for circle. The astounding number of virgins and visitors got the pack all hot and bothered. Perfect start for trail. We soused out trail. We really enjoyed finding a stop light which faced directly off of the train bridge at the beginning. No car has seen those lights in many years. Way to be MA DOT.

The trail wound it's way away from the comfort and normalcy of the Red Line. We wound our way deeper and deeper into East Somerville out of Camberville. Along the way the hares treated the pack to many a tit-check to which the fine ladies of the pack were happy to comply. Spreading joy and cheer to the pack and on-lookers.

We burst forth from the bowels of Slummerville (this is what you get for picking a scribe from Davis) and crossed the Wellington bridge towards President's landing and Wellington Station. We found our first BN and all cheered. Several miles later of arduous hunting we actually found the BC behind a parking garage for Wellington Station (I have been informed by the esteemed Harriet that the distance between BN and BC was “relatively short.”) (We were “relatively thirsty” at this point and will hear no further arguments as to the distance travelled for be3r).

A fine assortment of the finest fare awaited us in the bushes (PBR and high life count). MOH declared he needed to hump a leg for warmth. Goat helped him out. FML. Though it was warming. Still warding off the chill (and looking for cheap excuses to rub all up on...) we revived the Pearl Necklace's penguin huddle and several of the pack crowded in together while jumping around and making penguin squawkings. Sh!tonya is the bomb or this. Somewhere in here the pack spotted Rent-A-Cops looking down on us from their garage. Was it fear? Disapproval? Awe? We may never know. The Police also did a drive by but didn't even bother to stop and make us drink faster. Made for an excellent excuse to drink faster anyways.

Fire in the Hole caught up to us with “HOLY SH!T YOU MEAN SHE HAS A TWIN!?!?!?” (AKA Virgin Sarah) Amidst the conversation ensuing from this the name: “Fire in the other Hole” was tossed about. What an excellent name. If only there was some way a permanent record of this brilliant idea could be maintained...

(Full disclosure: the scribe is recovering from serious things for both hot red heads and twins. This was quite the moment.)

The Pack set out and quickly were directed up the stairs of the parking garage. Only to be cut off by the rent-a-cops. The garage is apparently “A no trespassing area, which is only for people with cars in the garage.” Thanks for that info... Also “The Medford police are on the way.” Bugger! The pack back-tracked down the steps and went after trail. BOM and MOH went back for the walkers to let them know that this was a poor time to relax with the beverages. All turned out ok.

Several wrong ways later we got back on track in the neighborhoods of Medford. Also there were even more tit checks and not a single hasher was stranded. I'd suggest that more d!ck checks need to be laid down to repay the harriets, but something tells me they might not appreciate the gesture. Trail met a turkey/eagle where none of the pack felt able to follow the turkey trail. Instead all found a path over a wall and fence junction, complete with BBQing neighbor to complain about us damaging his fence. I guarantee the aesthetics of the giant hole in the fence belonging to the decrepit railroad are were in no way changed by the pack's passing. (Ow Ow! To Phbbbzzt....'s running kilt going up and over this wall!)

Followed the abandoned tracks for a bit and burst back onto the roads near a commercial Bakery churning out chocolate chip cookies. The smell was.... Well if someone ever makes that into a perfume/cologne I promise it will get you tail.

Followed some roads through commercial districts and blasted past a check mark. Just Sager was clever enough to turn and check the sketchtastic parking lot next to the check. Wise man. We turned around after our trail died and found BC #2. Can't remember if anything worthwhile happened at this BC, but this will amuse you: Something like this (SFW) 

The Hares and pack away one more time. Short bit of trail later and we found the On-In at Honey Fitz.

If you would like to see a map of where we went than here you go to this Google Map. The anonymous source of this really cool map would like to inform everyone that if someone tries and call them out for tech on trail they will be forever remembered for the time they tried to pleasure Bob Dole.

Nice Trail Hares!
By which I mean: S H I T T Y TRAIL

Circle!

Comments on trail
  • Twins!!!!!
  • Too few Rent a Cops
  • Four Tit checks too many!
  • More Po Po Please!
Virgins! 6 Virgins enter... Hey where the cr@p did our other virgins go? The Virgin family realized at some point that perhaps this was not the right place for an under-aged daughter... may be right!
  • Virgin Evan (Cum Fly with Me) Remembers his first BJ well! And remarked it was quite salty. (touche')
  • Virgin Sarah (Fire in the Hole) Would Definitely get off if she were on a bus full of lesbians.
  • (uhm..... I can't deal with thinking about this anymore)
  • Virgin Paula (Wicked Witch of the Wet) Was not able to calculate the square root of 69. The pack informed her of the proper response!
  • Virgin Cat (brought herself) Could not figure out what one boob said to the other. (We have got to stop letting this dick get between us)
  • Virgin Emma (brought by virgin Cat) Was intimately familiar with the sound a pony makes when it has been treated right.
  • Virgin Andy (F#cks like a Rabbit) Was not ok with demonstrating any acts with his sponsor. Some BS about incest being off the menu.
Visitors! (holy bajesus there were a lot of you too!)
Sh!tonya (Burlington), Wicked Witch of the Wet (Germany), Jimmy Crack Whore (Happy Valley), Suckit Wrench (Happy Valley?), C#nt Monkey (lazy scriberville), Watergate (I give-upia), and F#cks like a Rabbit. 

Accusations:
  • FRB: High Anus
  • FBI: Fire in the Hole
  • Sitting in Circle: Sextra credit, Cocktologist, Just Sager, P!ss stop
  • Hat in Circle: Most of the Pack
  • No Hat on Mad hatter H@sh: The rest of the Pack (Notable excuse for hatless state: Hoover McSuck n F#ck was afraid to wear one, even after one was offered, because he was worried about the police...)
  • New Shoe Penalty – Fire in the Hole. Graciously shared the penalty with OH GOD THEY ARE IN THE CIRCLE AGAIN TOGETHER.... Virgin Sarah.
  • Backsliders: Maid of Honor (family gatherings and getting some (separate occasions)), Bring out the Gimp (wild kink parties), An@l Beads (sex with 2C's mom), Hoover (Pelvic fracture – BS alert), C#m Fly with me (evil law firm), P!ss stop (no excuse)
  • Late C#mmers: Wang Chunks, Willy Wonka and the Back Door Factory, Jamaican me C#m, Bringham Tounge, The Buttler Hit It, Shawskank, Queer leader, Stretch P#ssy, Floppy D!ck
Namings!
  • Just Jessica- Stories were about her making bets involving giving Sager BJ's, dating men with enourmous veiny members, and her cavernous tw@t.
  • Possible names: BJ Bet, Blew the Big One, Gamble the Goo, 8 something, You're so Veiny, and Chunnel (the enormous truck sized hole connecting England and France) We now pronounce you: Chunnel
  • Just Ted – Wore running tights with all sorts of definition going on (not all flattering) Possible names: Nutcracker and Moose Knuckles. We dub thee: Moose Knuckles
  • Just Sager – Stories included: his roots in Butte, Montana, Sex involving a stripper he brought home from a strip club, memorizing the list of services available off the menu at strip clubs...Possible names: Bridezilla, Butte Pirate, Allegedly had Sex, Banana Montana, Skinemax, Spankovision, A La C#nte. Be forevermore: A La C#nte!
The scribe notebok was stolen at this point and there is a very important message written for the scribe to pass on to the kennel. If any of you can decypher the code of three pictures of cocks, one set of boobs, “cocksucker”, “penis”, and another cock picture than please inform the pack of the meaning.

The H@sh went in peace.

And then played limbo. Willy Wonka used this opportunity to show the dangers of uncontrolled forward momentum. Luckily she had a carefully placed wall to impede her dangerous trajectory.

And that's about it.

-The Maid of Honor

Special thanks to P!ss Stop for the groovy new Scribe email and the postings to the H@sh trash Blog. http://bostonhash.blogspot.com/

Sunday, November 8, 2009

The Return of GAP


HARES: General Ass Pounder, Goat Throat
BAG CAR: Cums Alone
WEATHER: sunny, warm, a great day for a hash

A: Mt. Vernon Pub, Somerville near Sullivan Sq.
B: The Hong Kong in Quincy Market, Boston
Turkey Beer Check: on the water taxi across Boston Harbor
FRB Shot Check: at the wrong park Paul Revere Park near the wrong Marriott in Charlestown (was supposed to be in Boston. Christopher Columbus Park and Rose Garden, a bag car oops) 


Visitor: Pig F*cker from Half Mein (he had to leave before the circle started)
Virgins: none
Late Cummers: Wang Chunks, An Inconvenient Poop, Welcum Wagon


Hashers Present:
Bend Over Mommy, Brigham Tongue, Bzzzzzzzzzz (or something like that), The Buttler Hit It, Catheter the Great, Cocktologist, Dirty Latte Sanchez, Dribbles, Dude Where's My Virginity, Fire in the Hole, 5" Penalty, Floppy Dick, F*cksall, Gay Pride, High An*s, Immaculate Erection, Jamaican Me Cum, Just Ben, Just Jennie, Just Melvin, Just Mike, Just Ted, Krusty the Meatmeister, Necrophiliac Jack, NAMBLA (left before circle or got lost somewhere), Nipples Erectus, Pat My Fly,Peppermint Pussy, Petting Officer Stuffing *ss, Queerleader, Sextracredit, Shawshank, Spunk in the Trunk, Stick it to the Bros, Taj My Hole, The Second Cumming, Time of the Munch, Willie Wonker & the Back Door Factory, You Want to Blow 

The Start, the trail:
Hashers gathered at the Mt. Vernon Pub, vastly outnumbering the somewhat nonplussed regulars. Eventually, the hares took off to set live trail. The pack finished their beers and circled outside. Trail took off through the wilds of E Somerville and Charlestown. Eventually trail led the pack to a turkey-eagle split. The turkeys went to the Charlestown Navy Yard, where they boarded the commuter ferry across Boston Harbor. As Bag Car driver I had to drop off the beer for the turkeys with Goat Throat and then get to the Eagle vodka check. GAP said he'd be at the park near the Marriott, and I saw him run past the Marriot in Charlestown, and had a blonde moment, and assumed the check was at the wrong park. Shortly thereafter the eagles arrived at Paul Revere Park and they had their vodka check there. We thought we were probably in the wrong place, but the eagles, bless em, figured it didn't matter too much where they had their check. They then crossed through the locks at the end of the Charles River for a scenic meandering through the North End and other environs of downtown Boston. Several got lost, somehow following traces of earlier hash runs, but some did make it to the park, where they rejoined the turkeys for the remainder of the trail. Rumor has it trail may have gone over Beacon Hill prior to arrival at the hash favorite venue, the Hong Kong.

The On-In:
Those who arrived at the on-in early, pre-lubed with scorpion bowls, or good beer. And they waited for the pack to arrive. There were civilians at the Hong Kong, but most left in haste once the pack arrived.

The Second Cumming was RA (I think, I was in the back row). Comments on the run included: Not enough boat rides, not enough swimming, best trail I've run in a long time (a late cummer), not enough cops, no tit check, too many old marks, too many pack marks, more stairs, way too many marks for a GAP trail, no marks but I got here anyway, not enough old people ready to die, not enough impromptu beer checks. GAP was welcomed back to Boston (only visiting, he's doing well in med school in Baltimore) and given his well-deserved down down.

  • Visitors: Since Pig F-er had to leave, Spunk did a proxy down down for him.
  • Backsliders: Sextracredit, GAP, Goat Throat, and Second Cumming got down downs.
  • Sweat Test Failures Wang Chunks, Gay Pride, Necrophiliac Jack and Welcom Wagon got down downs.
  • Infractions: Accusations went on for about an hour for every conceivable infraction. Private Parties, late cummers, missing the boat down down, same shirts, etc. etc. All hares got to drink a number of times, as did all RAs and former RAs and GMs and former GMs . and on and on.
  • Naming: Just Jenny was due for a name. There was discussion of her stepping in dog poop, something about a marathon with sailors, and then how she threw up into two pint glasses. This inspired the following possible names: Cud Slut, Pampered Pussy, Likes Long Time, Two Sailors in a Cup, Long Dong, Two Pints of Puke, and finally the winner . One Girl, Two Cups. Thus she shall be known in the Hash.
We finally did hash religion, and adjourned to eat home made tacos provided by GAP and Peppermint Pussy. And it was good in Hashland.

--Cums Alone, Scribe & Bag Car Driver

Monday, November 2, 2009

Beaver Moon Hash

Hares: Invisidick, Just Ellen, I Licked Butts
RA: Glitoris (Hare Club)
Pre-lube: Newtowne Grille in Porter Square
Weather: Clear and not too cold (until circle, that is)


Pack
Hey, I know that some of y'all have moon names that I don't know. So if you do, send me an email and I'll make sure to use it going forward.  I forgot half the pack but this is what I remember: Hare Club, Goat Throat, Bend Over Mommy, Saskapoon, Bloody P*ssy, Peppermint P*ssy, Wang Chunks (he may have been a latecummer; I'm not sure. Don't recall seeing him run, but then I am not sure I have ever seen Wang run!), Cocksmith, Willy Wonka and the Backdoor Factory, Maid of Honor, Shawskank, BBAG, Fire in the Hole, Stick It To the Bros, Nice T*ts, I Eat Teabags, Just Heather, Just Becky, Virgin Maura

From the Farmer's Almanac

"Many moons ago when hunting was vital to preparation for the winter season, Native Americans would set traps for beavers. Beavers provided warm furs to help make the cold temperatures more bearable. November was a good month for hunting beaver since the swamps were not yet frozen. So as tradition had it, November's full moon became known as the Full Beaver Moon." Hahahaha, "beavers provided warm furs." Moving on. 

Trail
So I wasn't aware until this hash that MIT's mascot is the beaver. I would laugh, but Babson also has a beaver as a mascot. The best (or so I have heard) is when the diving team is announced: "the beaver divers." Not kidding. Not quite as much fun as a USC/SC Trojans vs. C*cks game but at least it's on theme. Not on theme but I am obligated to say here that nothing, and I mean nothing, is as stupid as the Stanford Tree. Moving on.

The hares were wearing cardboard beaver tails, which Just Ellen had apparently made at work. A pretty good-sized pack formed for a Monday night. The 2nd Cumming explained marks to our virgin. This was all old hat except for the pineapple check (it was supposed to be a beaver tail).

In a scene reminiscent of the previous day's hash, the pack spent about 5 minutes going every way except for the right way before finally finding trail. Trail wound through the neighborhoods before ending up in an abandoned lot on Summer Street near Davis Square, apparently owned by the T. Just Heather managed to have a hash crash at the beer check, much to everyone's amusement. After the hares had left a cop showed up. I wasn't sure whether he was more annoyed or amused, and he made us pick up trash that wasn't even ours (which someone, I wish I could remember who, actually told the guy!).

The next leg of the trail went past a shop called Kick*ss Cupcakes. This conjures up all sorts of bad, bad images. Somewhere along this leg, The 2nd Cumming found a picture of some lions sitting out with the trash. And what else to do with a picture of lions than pick it up and carry it along? Not long after that, trail craniumed up. And up. And up some more. And around a corner and up some more. Seriously, Somerville must be like the Rome of the greater Boston area or something. Luckily, someone had left a rolling chair out with the trash, which Tea Bags put to good use. Perhaps when realizing that gravity would take him back down the hill, he abandoned the chair.

The second beer check was at Bailey Park, right next to the Somerville Hospital Nursing School. At this point, The 2nd Cumming began drawing the anatomically incorrect body parts [for lions] on his lion picture. Well, really, what else do you do with a picture found on trail?

The final leg was relatively straight and downhill, and the pack had no problems finding trail, at least for a while. While the males of the pack were waiting at the beaver check in front of Butts, Ellen, and Maura's boss's house, the hares were unloading the bag car in plain sight, about half a block down the hill. Now, had the pack been aware of their surroundings and scouting for trail, rather than beaver, they would have noticed that the trail went behind the abandoned house on Central Street and through a big hole in the fence into the vacant lot, rather than around the corner, behind Wings Over Somerville, and over an 8-foot fence with a nasty picker bush on the other side. But hey it's not a moon hash if you don't have to climb something, so much of the pack climbed the fence with gusto.

Circle took place in half a building, and unfortunately I don't remember too much about it because I was too busy picking the aforementioned pickers out of my pants. Well, it beats some other things that could have gotten onto my pants.

Virgin Maura was demented to great acclaim when asked her favorite sexual position she actually asked "Do you know what a dirty sanchez is?" Seriously, Virgin Maura, you clearly don't know the hash very well! Yet. The pack attempted to name Just Ellen but couldn't think of anything so she was tossed back.

The on-after was at Razzy's, where the pack broke into a spontaneous second circle in the back room, singing "The S&M Man" and "I Used to Work in Chicago" until we were notified by management that open mike comedy night was starting and our comedy wasn't on the schedule. The funniest "comedian" was the one who started making fun of the audience, in particular Just Becky. The "comedians" were NOT happy about the presence of a drunk, sarcastic, foul-mouthed mob at the bar, mocking (loudly) every word that came out of their mouths. However, one did come up to us after his bit and said that he wanted to join the hash, probably because we will be a never-ending source of material I'd wager.

- Bloody P*ssy

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Halloweenie Hash

As I did not see any Scribes present by the 2nd beer check, I thought it proper that someone enlighten those of you who missed this event as to what may have happened on trail today. I did not have the foresight to find someone with either a pen or a photographic memory so you will have to settle for what I remember of trail.

It all started at BHP with 2 bright-eyed hares: Necrophiliac Jack & Just Ted who had grand ideas of what trail could be so we sent them off with their hopes, their dreams and their eagle scout uniforms that apparent still fit after 10 years... This is what they gave us:

A start that was eerily reminiscent of STD's first trail set with Bros as we were yet again cluster fucked near Mass General Hospital. Is trail going over the Longfellow? Along Storrow? Towards North Station? Into MGH (Just Ted's Scrubs seem to indicate that this last option was possible). No! We headed down Charles St. towards Beacon and unlike the aforementioned trail... there were marks! Already this trail was looking good.

They properly falsed us over the walking bridge to the Esplanade, where Buoys and a few others decided to wait at the end of the other side until most of us had made our way over before calling it false... wankers! Once we were turned around and making our way deeper into Boston, an alley way with a pleasantly surprising BN came into few and we drank warm Miller High Life before I had even heard anyone b*tch about needing a beverage... thank you hares.

Earlier during chalk talk the 2nd Cumming had ripped up pieces of orange paper and had thrown them on the ground illustrating what we may see later on trail. A collective groan escaped from the pack as these crumbled bits easily blew away in the wind. Krusty and Kosher were among those grumbling that perhaps they could have also used pavement colored chalk... another hash favorite for laying super secret trails. These pieces of paper, however, were actually quite visible in both Macy's and Downtown Crossing were the regular patrons looked in awe as The Butler Hit It and PPBBVVvvvzzz power walked through the perfume section. Awesome!

While they did not lay any invisible marks to get the pack turned around, they did manage to get lost on their own trail and were snagged by myself @ 4:21 pm and then again by Krusty, Crucifux & IEC who missed the 2nd beer check and had to ask the hares for directions as not to miss a second opportunity @ piss warm High Life. The 2nd beer check was right in the middle of Liberty Square. We all finished our warm beers and headed in the direction Krusty indicated eventually making our way to on-in @ the Hong Kong.

Circle was relatively short and aptly led by The 2nd Cumming. The Hares sangthe S&M man and were ridiculed for getting caught and bitched at for warm beer: apparently the hash drunk has standards... who knew?

There were 4 virgins demented by BBAG and Jamaican and I apologize for either making up or forgetting your names:
  1. Virgin Gary - Kosher's cousin
  2. Virgin Carrie - Just Sager appears to have brought her
  3. Virgin Ben - picked up on the T by Peppermint Pussy and Kosher
  4. Virgin ---- - Forgot your name, but I remember Just Jessica brought you and you live in Somerville
There were a couple of birthdays: Nips & Taj and PPBBVVvzzz had her Analversary: One Year Closer to Death

Hmmm, what else about circle. Oh, the hares had small nips of alcohol to award best costumes. I believe there were 5 categories:
  1. Most original: Went to PSA for Beerbarella (did she drink all those High Lifes? Did she coordinate with the hares to have her costume match the beverage of choice at the beer check? Did she give her Miller points to 2nd Cumming? all great questions that I do not have answers to)
  2. Best female: Dude for her dead Dalmatian shawl and great Cruella impression
  3. Best male: Spank Me as a geek who will never get laid (yes, he actually wore a costume)
  4. Sluttiest: cannot remember who won although Jamaican was nominated for her gold tight pants and mesh shirt, and Munch who came late as a French maid complete with a green feather duster
  5. Worst costume: Buoys for dressing like Immaculate. When dressing like another hasher, you need to choose someone who wears pretty much the same thing to every hash and can be loud and obnoxious enough to draw attention to themselves... hats off to Butts for choosing to dress as BBAG our hash drunk.
It was announced that there are upcumming events in which your merriment may continue. First is a Full Moon Hash tomorrow night taking off from Newtowne Grill in Porter Sq @ 630 HST, and an amazing away event in VT as Anti-buffet is in it's 6th year and is happening the 1st weekend in Dec. Sign up here.

That rounded up our night, and Swing Low made it official.

Buoys then serenaded us with Puff the Magic Tampon earning himself a free pint at the bar and the rest of us a desire to get those 5 minutes back in addition to the daylight savings hour we got earlier today.

That is pretty much it. I hope to see you all next week, as I believe we have some hashers that need to be named: Just Ellen, Just Ted, Just Sager and Just Sara to name a few... Get to know these new hashers as we need good dirt to name them properly.

Un-officially Scribing, Tits

Saturday, October 24, 2009

The C#mbridge Salem Halloween Hash

The C#mbridge H*sh Hallloween run 10/24/2009

Salem, MA

Pre-lube: Porter's Bar and Grill

Hare: Wang Chunks
Bag Car: Stretch P#ssy
RA: Krusty the Meat Miser
Surprise Scribe: The Maid of Honor

Da Pack:
Jimmy crackwhore, Dirty layte sanchez, Dude, where's my virginity, P#ssy factory, Counterfeit dick, Peppermint p#ssy, Inconvenient poop, Fisty, Nancy Reagan, G-string, Pbbv..., Bbag, Gay pride, Cougar consulting, Cletus the fetus

So uh... I'm a lazy bum and I agreed to write this one about a month ago. Since then I have slacked like crazy. I also wasn't the designated scribe until afterwards, so no notes. We shall see what I can remember.

Now that I have whined I will commence with making up great stories about all of you.

On-ghouls-gone-wild-On!

The Pack slowly assembled in Porters and had ourselves some early afternoon brews. Apparenty MOH didn't get the memo that we were in the witches and warlocks themed costumes. Everyone else showed up in there dark garb while MOH showed up in A jester outfit and some killer running tights. Pbbzzt... and MOH remenisced about the good old days of writing suggestive messages all the way up Pbbbzzzt...'s leg on the graffiti h*sh. Oh the good ol days.

We had some strange conversations in the bar including one in which the stereotypical image of lesbians was shot down as the norm. The locals agreed. Someone may have mentioned lipstick lesbians as the cure to the broken fantasy. H*sh managed to avoid offending any die-hard feminists in our midst. We left the Porters and tromped on down to North Station.

Most of the pack managed to follow the instructions and make the train to Salem. Most...

The train ride was about as subdued as could be expected from a group of folks applying black lipstick to their male contingent and Fisty trading her corset off to another h*sher. Fisty, it looked great on you too, don't worry.

Arrival in Salem and we met up with a few more brave h*shers willing to face the drizzle. Nancy pulled up in style only to realize he and MOH were both jesters. Faux pas!

Wang let us know what we were doing and we scurried off down an abandoned rail bed. Got lost several times before finding a marked trail that actually led into Salem. Finally the travesty could begin in earnest.

Off to a good start we had a song check directly in front of a line for a haunted tour bus. Salem in October is full of a lot of freaks. Our pride continues that we can still top the bunch and really confuse, amuse, and generally make people feel uncomfortable. We rock.

Back to trail. Which, as it turns out was getting very challenging to follow. If I remember correctly, this was a dead trail on a fairly rainy day. In other words.. fading fast! We hustled down the main street of vendors in Salem, speculating that there was a trail hidden somewhere under there feet. Whatever the case was, we did find trail at the end of it. More mucking about the residential neighborhoods finally pointed us towards the harbor shore.

We found one of the best BC's ever. Wang and Stretch had a small burner out the back of a truck warming a pot of cider to which excellent things were added. This is a very good way to make the pack happy.

The BC came to an end and Wang pointed us towards the continuation of trail. More Running through throngs of costumed people.

And then we came to a very special place! A giant statue of Bend Over Mommy's ancestor. I think he was standing triumphantly with virgins fawning at his feet. Makes sense with a cool descendent like BOM.

All the vendors around town were really starting to make me hungry! Between the hot salted nuts and spicy giant sausage I was salivating. (I believe the stache made me write that again)

We found the On-In which was some chill divy bar/restaurant. No idea what it was called. Bu they were very cool with us taking over their back alley to sing songs and drink beverages.

Circle involved calling out C#mbridge virgins, hat wearers, non-costume wearers, late-c#mmers, backsliders, and generally anyone who just deserved to drink more.

Somewhere along the line Krusty found the mankiest rotting roller blade I have ever seen. Which we then tried to get one of the pack to drink out of. He refused claiming something about standards... BS.

Most importantly we gave a shout out to our favorite future H*sher: Cletus the Fetus (currently residing like a creepy alien in Dude, Where's my virginity's belly)

BBAG was kind enough to be a surrogate down downer for his spawn.

We finished up and went into the bar to settle into many pitchers and a bunch of cheap, mostly edible food.

We took our dear sweet time and missed the first train. So that lead to more pitchers.

Which got us into fine form. I can now continue my H*sh grooming styles commentary with a shout out to Fisty sporting the Adult woman, full, but not out of control styling.

Eventually we extricated ourselves and blazed a trail back to the train. With so many pitchers in us it just didn't seem right to let the peace rest. And so we sang. Oh did we sing. The platform of that train may never be the same. Verse after Verse of Yogi, S&M Man, old department store, and one particularly cruel rendition of Jesus saves once a sign-board man approached us with his “Jesus Saves!” Signs.

Forget it dude. We are beyond saving.


On-Halloween-debauchery-On


-The Maid of Honor

Sunday, October 11, 2009

The Big Lebowski Hash 10/11/2009

What: The Big Lebowski H@sh

When: A long friggin time ago(AKA Oct 11th)

Who: Hares Shawskank and 5” Penalty
Bag Car: Just Sarah (F#cksaw)
RA: Necrophiliac Jack
Scribing: the Maid of Honor

Pre-lube: Clark's in South Station

Pack: The Maid of Honor, Floppy D1ck, Cocktologist, Necrophiliac Jack (RA), Just Raina, Better late than Pregnant, Just Sandra, Grease my Monkey's Nuts, Just Heather, Virgin Mark, Just Kim, Just Zeek, Sugar Plum Fairy, Pat My Fly, Just Jenny, Jamaican me c#m, Hare club, Just Ted (Moose Knuckles) Goat Throat, Bend over Mommy, Stickin it to the Bros, Just michelle, TBags

Memorable phone call while waiting at the pre-lube: Shawskank: So is Clarks IN South Station...

an auspicious start!

Things started off normally enough. Some choice beverages and a few people in appropriate bathrobes. Soon after we saw off the hares and the pack settled back into their beverages. Soon we too had to leave the warm confines of the bar and brave the chilly Boston air. Outside of South Station we flumoxed about a bit trying to find trail but picked it up heading south toward the piers. This was going very well with the sun shining down on us and we followed happily along a well marked trail.

Funny thing happened.. We realized it was in fact not the correct well marked trail. It was the AGM trail. FML! After some back tracking we got back to what we assumed was trail and followed it for a bit.

Deja Vue time, We then found the Moon H@sh trail of two days before. At this point as I remember it (and lets face it who are you to question what I'm saying here. I had a very official looking notepad, which I would never write lies in just to prompt messages like this later) we started to test out methods for dating the h@sh marks. Close visual examination seems to be the go to with taste tasting coming in as a sorry second. Old chalk and new chalk both taste similar. With a refined palette the subtleties of the drunken p1sses and hobo stank will start to show through in the older marks.

Back on subject! We back tracked more and eventually found what looked like fresh marks and a part of town that no one could remember running on at any of the other recent H@shes. Progress? We got down near the fish pier and ran smack into what we all agreed had to be a meeting of the mafia. Down on a pier in classic, well-maintained American cars... wearing suits and calling eachother a mix of Vito's and Tony's. Sure it could have been the American Legion.. but this is the H@sh! Boring things don't happen! Also thikn we spotted the oldest hookers ever out on the pier.

Right about then (on what I think was 3+ miles in with our detours) most of the pack took a left towards the fish wharf and I started following a very well marked trail. G-damn. Not the trail again.

We back tracked and out on the end of the Fish Pier we found the pack happily drinking white russians and enjoying a quick dip in the harbor.

Wait what? Yeah that's right. Goat throat went swimming. Luckily the only state troopers we met from this harbor swimming trip were in cars. And they didn't bat an eye at us.

Overheard at this point:
Shawskank to her co-hare 5” “You are such a needy cohare!!”
Just Sandra: “I want bigger!”
Jamaicain: “Yeah, but sometimes the big ones are to much work”

Whatever that means. Hares away and the pack follows soon after.

I should have mentioned that on the way down we passed by the convention center and what not. Only say this because it helps set up the confusion that ensued when we AGAIN passed by following trail and found the old cement colored chalk was now crossed out with a new direction. This was a flash point for a moment of tension when part of the pack which allegedly had been utilizing A MAP!!!!! went on the old trail and the folks who had been painstakingly following the trail knew this was old trail. They did not inform the folks running back in a circle. Was there map involved? Who knows, but they were a fit bunch and clearly needed the detour.

The trail continued meandering back towards South Station, at one point crossing back onto itself... which also meant it was now on top of the current H@sh direction 1, AGM, and moon H@sh... This was difficult to follow. Seriously, I had a headache! (Full disclaimer: I think I was hungover as sh!t) This was about the point we all started to cheer that a long trail (pushing 5-6 miles by now) was coming to an end and that perhaps this was an A to A trail.

Nope. More time spent being lost and back tracking. Soon we found ourselves in the neighborhood of the Hong Kong. Surely the madness was coming to an end. Not even close. Henceforth the act of bringing the pack near the Hong Kong but not ending the trail in its hallowed halls will be known as a “Kong Tease.” So yea, Shawskank is a giant Kong Tease. Our esteemed Hares managed to find one of the sketchier alleys behind Hong kong and we had BC #2. At this point we were all a bit tired but still up for the sport of things. We came to a discovery that Necro was sporting a perma-boner. I know some people tried to take pictures with it. More novelty than impressive. However that didn't stop the harriets from chalking it. To try and distract the pack from his half mast, Necro attempts to climb the side of a building. He managed to climb a ways, but apparently it was an exhilarating experience as he came back from it at maybe ¾ staff. Pack is very ammused. Just Zeek takes it upon himself at this point to welcome Necro down to Rhode Island H3 anytime as it is “A strictly gay H@sh.”

Hares away again. And the pack to follow. Much of this next section my mind has blocked out to preserve some semblance of happiness. We made it to the Common and found a Check back. Yea.. It is impossible to over mark a trail.

I won't go into the details of how we again found the trail but it was an act of desperation. Quite a few of us were starting to pretend we were cast offs of the old fahts H@sh with knee and ankle complaints running wild. Pretty sad.

We made it to Jacques!!! which was the On-In!

Everyone staggered in and sat themselves dejectedly around the tables in one of the H@sh's favorite watering holes. Even though we didn't end at BBAG's place, we did manage to bump into our drunk and he stopped by Jacques for a bit. Never one to shirk his duties!

More interesting quotes:
Necro (in regards to a hot asian tranny) “And then she grabbed my junk!”
Just Sandra “It's better to not get stiff..... well SOMETIMES!”

Circle

Virgin Mark was called into the circle. His sponsor Just Kim accompanied him. Upon being asked to demonstrate a proper lap dance he readily complied! Just Kim confirmed through her response that he was indeed doing a good job. Especially after the shirt came off. We'll wait for confirmation from them to see what happened later.

Visitors:
Grease my Monkey's Nuts and Goat Throat sang about incest. No surprises there.

Backsliders:
Just Sandra, Just Kim, Tbags, 5” penalty, Better late than pregnant, and Jamaican. I'm sure they sang something. Lets pretend it was a rousing round of Poker Face.

Accusations:
FRB: Hare Club
FBI: Just Heather
DFL: Tbags
Sitting in Circle: (F you all I was trying to take notes) The Maid of Honor
Stripping: Goat Throat and Tbags
Map Checking: Necro, Just Ted, Just Zeek, Bros

And then someone realized we were all wearing red for some reason so we had a red shrt party and all drank.

Necro then anounced he had snared the hares.

And proceeded to try and pants the harriet.

Word to the wise: Depending on what reaction you want, ascertain the presence of undergarments before pantsing someone in running tights.

Word to the Harriets: Landing strips are an excellent decision.

Word to the Pantser: expect swift justice from the pack... and male trimming might just give you that optical inch you desire. Ref http://www.shaveeverywhere.com/

Passing over my strong urge to document further H@sher grooming techniques (Fisty, I get it! You are a strong proud woman!)

NAMING TIME!

Just Sarah: Who has so nicely hared and bag carred repeatedly was called into the circle with little chance of escaping.
Stories: on her first H@sh she performed admirably and woke up in the ER with a recorded BAC of 0.369. Props!
I also have a note here that said she gave a pole dance demonstration on Jack's Pole. If that means more to one of you than to me I welcome the input. (welcoming input.... I made a funny)

Naming possibilities: “No Beer without ER” “Pole .369”
New story about her and a perpetual in and out machine at work.. She declared it a “F#cksaw!”

No surprises here, We now present you with “F#cksaw!” (Less shocking a month after the naming, but at least it is documented)

More Accusations:
Half Mast Buddies: Necro and Just Zeek (contagious boys?) Thank goodness we had the C0cktologist on hand to let them know that they were approaching the point at which they should seek medical attention.

Beer wasting (BOOOO!) Preggers

Pre-emptive fluid consumption: Virgin Mark and Just Kim (was there post H@sh fluid consumption as penance?)

Ironic pointing: Cocktologist

Private Party: Just Zeek and Preggers


And that did it. We ate tasty sandwiches, drank a few more drinks, and then bemoaned the lack of tranny shows on Sunday afternoons.


-The Maid of Honor


P.S. The Stache H@sh is next Sunday starting at Our House East at 2:30 HST. I have been growing out this beast for all of you and I need it gone. c#m and validate my efforts!

P.P.S. The Furry H@sh is January 10th.www.Spirithalloween.com is running a special on halloween costumes until the 29th of November. You can now find yourself a cheap furry suitable outfit.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Tom Cruise Hash

Hare: Gay Pride!Spontaneous Hare: BBAG
Bag Car: Floppy D*ck
RA: Jack

Pack: Taj My Hole, Just Heather, I Eat Teabags, Vagitarian, Dribbles, Show Me The Hole, Pat My Fly,The Butler Hit It, Brigham Tongue, Necrophiliac Jack, Sugar Plum Fairy, Just Jason, Just Zeke, Just Ellen and her Virgin, Just Jenny, Just Katie, Willy Wonka and the Back Door Factory, Peppermint P*ssy, and myself (Dude Where's My Virginity.) We unsuccessfully tried to recruit some famous people to be spontaneous virgins without luck (details below.)

Sorry, I probably forgot several people, I didn't write down names as I did not expect to scribe. However, given the awesomeness of the trail I have to do a short write-up!

Trail started at John Harvard's Brewhouse in Harvard Square. Note to newbies, there is a great place in Harvard Square called Whitney's where they have good cheap beer and the bartender is cool. Most of the staff apparently was decent at John Harvard's but the bartender was awful.

We ran in circles around and through Harvard and Harvard Square. We ran by BBAG's favorite building. We ended up in Cambridgeport where apparently the hares had a falling out and each set their own trail. Eventually, after about 3 miles we ended up at a beer check along the river. It was a nice location but the beer was warm and there was no water (it had gotten sunny and warm by now.) Good weather to hash!

The hares made out, I mean made up, and were off. Pack enjoyed the sun and Vagitarian going shirtless! As pack headed away, several of us noticed bag car was nowhere to be found and had not asked anyone to clean up. Vagitarian, Just Heather and I went back to clean up. Pat My Fly had gotten most of the cans together and we helped dispose of them. We also found about 10 leftover beers! Alcohol abuse! Since we are bad*ss, we decided to carry them on trail. And it was a good thing we did!

Just Heather took the lead as we ran along Memorial Drive. A pack of runners approached us. Just Heather grabbed a beer and tried to give it to the hot guy at the front of the pack. He gave us an award-winning smile and said (and I quote) "No Thank You." His quite attractive wife smiled at us. The body guards gaped. I stopped short and yelled, "HEATHER, DO YOU REALIZE YOU JUST OFFERED TOM CRUISE A BEER!?!?!?! And that was Katie Holmes right behind him!!!"

We laughed, screamed, and Vag ran back after them. The bodyguards waved her away. She yelled "Tom I love you and want to have your baby!" We celebrated by shotgunning beers on Mem Drive. We called the pack to see where they were since we were hopelessly behind and couldn't find any marks.

To make a long run short, we met up with the pack at MIT where BBAG led the group to a free concert (Mission of Burma.) The leftover warm beers came in handy for the lucky few who drank behind a sculpture so the cops wouldn't see them. The music was good but we didn't stay long because we all had dangerously low blood alcohol levels.

We then ran to Courtside. Some people allege that trail was 10 miles. I say 7-8. At that point there's not much difference. Circle was short. The virgin was demented (nice demo with Just Ellen of reverse doggy-style.) Two transplants were introduced (Just Jason from NY and Just Zeke from RI.) Pizza was eaten. Beer was enjoyed. Tom Cruise was discussed. Yes, he is pretty short!

-Dude Where's My Virginity (one time only scribe so I can tell you how awesome Just Heather is, and she really needs a name.)

The Tom Cruise Hash

Hare: Gay Pride!Spontaneous Hare: BBAG
Bag Car: Floppy D*ck
RA: Jack

Pack: Taj My Hole, Just Heather, I Eat Teabags, Vagitarian, Dribbles, Show Me The Hole, Pat My Fly,The Butler Hit It, Brigham Tongue, Necrophiliac Jack, Sugar Plum Fairy, Just Jason, Just Zeke, Just Ellen and her Virgin, Just Jenny, Just Katie, Willy Wonka and the Back Door Factory, Peppermint P*ssy, and myself (Dude Where's My Virginity.) We unsuccessfully tried to recruit some famous people to be spontaneous virgins without luck (details below.)

Sorry, I probably forgot several people, I didn't write down names as I did not expect to scribe. However, given the awesomeness of the trail I have to do a short write-up!

Trail started at John Harvard's Brewhouse in Harvard Square. Note to newbies, there is a great place in Harvard Square called Whitney's where they have good cheap beer and the bartender is cool. Most of the staff apparently was decent at John Harvard's but the bartender was awful.

We ran in circles around and through Harvard and Harvard Square. We ran by BBAG's favorite building. We ended up in Cambridgeport where apparently the hares had a falling out and each set their own trail. Eventually, after about 3 miles we ended up at a beer check along the river. It was a nice location but the beer was warm and there was no water (it had gotten sunny and warm by now.) Good weather to hash!

The hares made out, I mean made up, and were off. Pack enjoyed the sun and Vagitarian going shirtless! As pack headed away, several of us noticed bag car was nowhere to be found and had not asked anyone to clean up. Vagitarian, Just Heather and I went back to clean up. Pat My Fly had gotten most of the cans together and we helped dispose of them. We also found about 10 leftover beers! Alcohol abuse! Since we are bad*ss, we decided to carry them on trail. And it was a good thing we did!

Just Heather took the lead as we ran along Memorial Drive. A pack of runners approached us. Just Heather grabbed a beer and tried to give it to the hot guy at the front of the pack. He gave us an award-winning smile and said (and I quote) "No Thank You." His quite attractive wife smiled at us. The bodyguards gaped. I stopped short and yelled, "HEATHER, DO YOU REALIZE YOU JUST OFFERED TOM CRUISE A BEER!?!?!?! And that was Katie Holmes right behind him!!!"

We laughed, screamed, and Vag ran back after them. The bodyguards waved her away. She yelled "Tom I love you and want to have your baby!" We celebrated by shotgunning beers on Mem Drive. We called the pack to see where they were since we were hopelessly behind and couldn't find any marks.

To make a long run short, we met up with the pack at MIT where BBAG led the group to a free concert (Mission of Burma.) The leftover warm beers came in handy for the lucky few who drank behind a sculpture so the cops wouldn't see them. The music was good but we didn't stay long because we all had dangerously low blood alcohol levels.

We then ran to Courtside. Some people allege that trail was 10 miles. I say 7-8. At that point there's not much difference. Circle was short. The virgin was demented (nice demo with Just Ellen of reverse doggy-style.) Two transplants were introduced (Just Jason from NY and Just Zeke from RI.) Pizza was eaten. Beer was enjoyed. Tom Cruise was discussed. Yes, he is pretty short!

-Dude Where's My Virginity (one time only scribe so I can tell you how awesome Just Heather is, and she really needs a name.)

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Daylight Moon Hash

Moon hash apparently doesn't have a scribe, but that doesn't mean there's not trash to be aired, so I figured I'd volunteer, starting as far back as memory (kind of) serves. Until I decide not to. Or get replaced. Or, you know, move to Africa.

Hare: Goes Down on Buoys (Sp*rm Dumpster)
Bag Car: The Buttler Hit It (Cocksmith)
RA: Puff'n'Stuff
Pack: Hare Club, High An*s, Goat Throat, Bend Over Mommy, Just Sager (Saskapoon), Brigham Tongue (Bloody P*ssy), Stick It To The Bros, Peppermint P*ssy
Latecummer: Wang Chunks
Pre-lube: MJ O'Connors in Boston
Weather: Drizzly and cold

Not only was this a full moon hash without a moon, but it was a Cajun trail. This was all very novel and exciting, but the excitement wore off when the pack got lost within the first 5 minutes. Actually, it was more like the first 2 minutes. We found the first few marks just fine, then spent 15 minutes trying to find trail. Apparently a yellow "X" was a mark (silly us, we assumed chalk marks would all be arrows, albeit not necessarily pointing in the correct direction, and that "X" meant false. Apparently not).

Trail went through the Boston Common, and on past BBAG's place (where, sadly, there was not a beer check). Goat Throat proved to have a knack for finding the deviously-hidden marks, which were on things like trees, and underneath scaffolding in the shadows… unfortunately by the time we got back to near the
Common, Goat's luck deserted him. Someone went running off to the north while the rest of us looked by the Common, in the graveyard, up and down both sides of every road … well, except the road trail went down, where the mark was cleverly hidden behind a dumpster. Nice.

We then ran through the seating area of a restaurant called Marylianes advertising $1 oysters between 4 and 6pm (the things I notice…) and then pretty quickly got lost again. Around this point the pack lost trail again. Mommy reported that someone had called the hash hotline, and the beer check was under the bridge by the Barking Crab. So, we all proceeded directly there, confusing the hare and bag car who were expecting us to come from the other direction.

At this point, Peppermint P*ssy showed up, having run at least part of the first trail. Not sure what her excuse was, something about work? Or something? The pack encouraged the hare to be less sneaky by half with the marks, so we had a prayer of finding them. Once we got a little bit cold the hare headed out and pack was away!

Trail wound through Seaport and after about 5 minutes (we could actually find the marks on this half of trail), the pack got a serious case of déjà vu as the trail was almost exactly identical to AGM the week before: running through a parking lot, then by the Seaport hotel, but this time rather than up steps by the seaport we ran upstairs in a bus station.

Heading towards the convention center I was far in front of the pack. Having found a check I headed off to scout trail and somehow managed to fall down while running at high speed. The pavement was uneven, or that's my story and I'm sticking to it. No one witnessed this epic hash crash, but the evidence was quite apparent (and it still hurt like a b*tch the next week when I was scouting trail, OW!). From this point forward trail was almost identical to the AGM trail, including the long deathmarch near where the BC was at AGM. This time, the pack got lost (surprised?) very near the on-in and spent a little while looking for trail in a parking lot, down some railroad tracks, etc., and in the likely direction of the all the bars in Southie until I think Hare Club zenned or saw the hare/FRB/bag car at the on-in location, which was an abandoned lot, and led us there forthwith.

So we had something like 300 Natty Ice and Natty Lites for 11 people, and we decided to do the best we could to drink all of the beers. After we had drunk about half the beers, Wang Chunks decided to show up to help us with the other half. Apparently he had nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon.

We had some moon hash namings! Starting with me, because of my aforementioned accident. Between the road rash and stories of my kitten who likes to jump onto my shoulders via the skin of my back, I was renamed Bloody P*ssy. That took about 2 minutes and was really the only decent suggestion.

Goes Down on Buoys was, after much back-and-forth, renamed Sp*rm Dumpster. I'm not sure why. But he seems to hate the name, which means it's a good name.

Just Sager (who STILL doesn't have a Boston hash name … seriously, people!) was christened Saskapoon, I guess because North Dakota where he is from is somewhat close to Saskatchewan. I don't know. But it was better than the other names, which I don't remember.

Finally, The Buttler Hit It was renamed Cocksmith due to an high school incident involving duplicating keys, and NOT GETTING AWAY WITH IT.

This lot must serve as an ad hoc dog park, because at some point during circle this beautiful dog came to visit us with its owners. Also, there was a party going on under a tent about a half a block away. People sounded like they were having a good time, and at one point I could have sworn I heard "On-on!" coming from under the tent but I must have been hearing things.

I don't really remember too much about the rest of circle thanks to the quantity of beer, and something about "when one p*ssy drinks, all p*ssies drink." Also, Cocksmith's attempt at new lyrics to When It's Hog Calling Time in Nebraska did not go over so well. Eventually we actually finished the beer, ended circle, and headed to Cornerstone Pub for on-after. I don't remember too much about that either, except I was told that Goat Throat stole a plate of chicken wings from a child. That doesn't seem like it could possibly be quite right, but there it is folks.

After the on-after, Buttler jokingly asked if we should crash the tent party. Emboldened by alcohol, I proceeded to do just that. Surprisingly, the partygoers were very welcoming and shared their beer until it ran out (but they went to go get more, so all was well). We entertained them with stories of hashing, and I did a solo rendition of Yogi, much to their bemusement. I don't remember very much else (surprised?).

- Bloody P*ssy (aka Brigham Tongue)

Sunday, September 27, 2009

AGM Fatboy

Good Evening one and all! And greetings from a very warm and happy place that is the post AGM weekend h*sh trashing. If you want to know what happened at AGM you should have been there, or you should pester your other new scribe: Sugar Plum Fairy! I got nothing on that one. What I do have is the valiant tale of a few brave h*shers who braved the rain and wrath of new GM’s. Yes, what I have for you now is the tale of the Post-AGM, Hungover, Fat-Boy Trail.

Pre-lube: Doyle’s
Hares: Our new GM’s: Bend Over Mommy and High Anus
Bag Car: Goat Throat
Virgins: Nope. Only used up ol’ H*shers here.

Pack: The Buttler Hit It, Peppermint P#ssy, Jamaican Me Cum, Cocktologist, Pat My Fly, Maid of Honor, and last but not least, one of our new favorite h*shers Just Jean….keep reading to find out more!!!

My morning started off stupidly early to do Hub on Wheels. It was wet and they gave us schwag for riding bikes around Boston. But who effing cares? I got home and Jamaican reminded my dumb arse that the h*sh started at 1. Davis and Forest Hills are not that close together. I ran out the door and hopped on the T. I dashed into the bar at 1:15 expecting to find pack away and a hunt for trail in front of me.

But no. MOH is an ignorant “baby-h*sher” (thanks for reminding me of that several times at MJ h*sh Fisty) and in fact this was a fat boy h*sh. A beautiful time when h*shers slow down, get fat, and do a very relaxed version of our normal shenanigans.

I moved into Doyle’s and found a small, but dedicated group of h*shers drinking their first round and looking at the menus. Then we got ourselves the back room and proceeded to order up a great brunch and booze. Many of us paid homage to our roots and got big steaming plates of h*sh. It is delicious and you all should do this. All the food any of us were unwilling to eat, Buttler found a place for. IN HIS BELLY! I tried to figure out what drink to order to go next to my coffee, but then found I can get it IN my coffee. Terrific way to start.

Hares were away somewhere after 2:00. Pack was away shortly there-after. Goat Throat let us all know that there were marks and that we should follow them. So we did, at a very brisk walk. Wouldn’t want to spoil the digesting of a fine h*sh!

Very soon we came to our first be3r check. There was High Life and a giant spider that had a thing for Goat and Buttler. We told stories. We noted stories from Just Jean.

Hares Away….5 minutes later and Pack Away!

Still at a brisk saunter, except for Peppermint who ran off deciding she needed to stretch her legs. Moments later we were treated to another be3r check! Here the wise new GM’s served us healthy doses of Be3rmosas. Truly brilliant creation using the champagne of be3rs and OJ. Quite tasty.

Hares Away….3 minutes later and Pack Away!

Peppermint runs off followed by the shambling mass of h*shers. And Lo and Behold! What did we see? Doyle’s! The deja-vu On-In. And here is a handy map of our harrowing journey.

We returned to our back room table and sat back in our still-warm seats. We were well be3red and started circle (at the table.) Everyone had their turn at this Circle.
  • GM’s High Anus and Bend Over Mommy drank for their sh!tty trail
  • Cocktologist drank for being a backslider (claims he has a job)
  • Just Jean drank for having special needs when she claimed she couldn’t drink our fine be3rmosas as she has “citrus allergies”
  • Pat My Fly for not realizing he was drinking booze in his be3rmosa
  • Overachievers: Peppermint P#ssy, Just Jean, and the Maid of Honor
  • The Buttler Hit It for being boring
  • And Goat Throat for setting off his car alarm at a be3r check and drawing the attention of small children… which he claims he is usually very good at sneaking up on.
  • A few accusations were tossed around and then the H*sh went in pieces.
  • Well that really involved a continued stay in our seats and more pitchers.
  • Memorable Quote: “He tried to bleach the NAMBLA out of his @ss”
But now for what was one of the best parts of the h*sh and what I think will be the most amusing part of this h*sh trash. The fun facts we learned about Just Jean……. And her spontaneous naming!!!!! Just Jean is one of the newest additions to the BH3, but she has h*shed with both the Portland, ME and Baltimore harriers. She is a feisty type who tries to beat up everyone once she’s had a few. She was playing the quiet game to avoid us getting too much dirt on her…. Since apparently there is quite a bit to be found. And most importantly, she isn’t on the list serve yet so we thought it would be fun to share this with all of you now.

Fun Facts:
  • Last night Just Jean was out with some ladies and got into a bunch of “lady drama” instead of joining us for AGM. Instead she walked away with a wad full of $1’s. She wouldn’t divulge further.
  • Recently, Just Jean was approached by a guy with the line: “I have some peppermint schnapps and I lost my virginity while drinking it. Want some?” And it worked! So she spent the evening drinking rumple mintze with the guy and chasing it with monkey bread.
  • Finally, She enjoys tanning naked on her porch with her coffee whenever she can. She is working on her “nipple tan”.
  • This folks is a fun h*sher who you will all enjoy getting to know. We all had been discussing the recent onslaught of spam that the listserve has been getting hammered with, and kept joking about the “Screaming Japanese Girls.” Jokingly we told Just Jean that if she didn’t spill the beans we would have to name her that. She gave a very strong reaction of dislike… and we know how that works in the h*sh. Spontaneous name vote goes out, RA makes a ruling, and voila!
We present to you: *Screaming Japanese Girl* (Just Jean no longer)

Also she then made pouty faces, voiced her indignation, and attacked us with fearsome blows. All of this only further cementing that she is in fact a Screaming Japanese Girl.

Hope ya'll enjoyed this edition of H*sh trash

-the Maid of Honor

Saturday, September 26, 2009

AGM 2009 aka Assholes on Ice

HARES: Goes Down On Buoys, Nice Tits
BAG CAR: My Chemical Homance
PRE-LUBE: The Corner Pub, Leather District Boston
BEER CHECKS: Alleyway in South Boston and Our Lady of Great Sodomy Park in South Boston
ON-IN: Kiley’s in the Horseshoe Pit out back.
SCRIBE: Sugar Plum Fairy
VISITORS: 2nd Cumming’s Hot Mom
LATE CUMMERS: Cums Alone, Crucifux, Jamaican Me Cum and Just Brigid

PACK:
High Anus, Necro Jack, Dick Jockey, I Eat Cum, I Licked Butts, Better Late Than Pregnant, Spank Me May I Have My Mother, Cocktologist, Coochie Monster, Bend Over Mommy, Hare Club For Queers, Peppermint Pussy, Brigham Tongue, Catheter the Great, Dirty Latte Sanchez, The Butler Hit It, The Jizz Mopper, Nipples Erectus, Target Practice, You Oughtta Blow, Fire In The Hole, The Second Cumming, Taj My Hole, Beat By A Girl, No Boner Left Behind, An Inconvenient Poop, Dude Where’s My Virginity, Schindler’s Fist, Dooky
Plows Her VD, I Eat Tea Bags, Sextra Credit. Justs …… Ellen, Katie, Sarah, Raina, Adam and Heather

TRAIL

It was sphincter shrinking time at the Anal General Meeting Hash as we kicked out the old and ushered in the new group of losers we call Mismanagement. It all started at the Corner Pub near South Station in the Leather District. Arriving early I was told that Goes Down On Buoys was, “Out looking for cock.”

I said that maybe he should be looking for chalk as that would be more helpful to setting and marking trail. When he did show up he had his chalk in his hand. No word on his other search.
We circled for chalk talk in the alley behind the Corner Pub which had all kinds of exotics smells.
“I especially love the smell of Urine,” said 2nd Cumming’s Mom. Didn’t know she was into that kind of thing, but then again she is from California and was a Raiderette so….?.

I followed several Zen masters out of the alley way and as they took off for the Boston Common, I shadowed the pack expecting them to go left, which they didn’t. Trail went through Chinatown and took u-turn back to South Station. I could see this from a distance as I took a wide swing around Federal Reserve building assuming the beer check would be under the bridge near the Itching… uh I mean Barking Crab. Trail actually went into the South Station T-stop and came out on Summer street leading hashers over the Fort Point Channel into the Seaport area.

Trail cut across a large parking lot and went back through the courtyard of one of the seaport hotels and came out by the Convention Center. Trail then turned toward South Boston and after a long straight away and a detour provided by I Eat Cum we reached the first beer check in an alleyway behind an industrial area.

Hashers were greeted with all different kinds of microbrews, the kind that makes most people happy and Hare Club sad. Beat By A Girl was also sad because he was hoping for really shitty beer and even threatened to drink a non-alcoholic beer. He was so distraught he went to a liquor store to by some Colt 45 to make up for things.

We must have looked like a gang of meth addicts, because a woman driving down the alley in her SUV and yakking on her cell phone looked up, saw us and immediately backed out of the alley. IEC led the hashers out of the beer check and up toward Broadway which was unfortunate because he wasn’t following trail just making up his own.

Peppermint Pussy, Nipples Erectus and I zenned our way to Telegraph Hill where I saw a rogue arrow courtesy of IEC. I went down the other side toward Carson Beach and realized I had overshot the trail which wound it’s way around Dorchester Street a and deposited hashers in an assphalt park with some benches know as Our Lady of Sodomy Park with a statue of Mary as it’s centerpiece. Surprisingly lightening did not strike anyone.

Trail then made its way to ward Old Colony Ave past a tit check where I sadly missed a pair of perky breasts being displayed. Doh. Almost immediately we were at Kiley’s, a wonderful dive with a horseshoe pit in the back which was perfect for Circle.

When hashers arrived and were fully lubed up, the RAs, a doubled headed estrogen monster known as Crucifucks and Bend Over Mommy called the hairs and outgoing GMs. Nice Tits and Buoys, into circle to place there asses squarely on blocks of ice their to listen to lonnnng drawwwnnn out discussions about how shitty their trial was and to suffer for their years of crimes against Hashmanity.

After we were sure they had frostbitten cheeks, they were kicked out of circle and more asses were placed on the ice for different violations of the unwritten hash laws. At some point Buoys pulled his shorts down and hopped around in the circle. Nobody knows why.

We finally came to the point of this whole nonsense and ushered in a new group of saps that can be blamed for everything that goes wrong this year.

Here now is the list of the sacrificial lambs (including yours truly).

HASH HO – Nipples Erectus
HASH FLASH – Better Late Then Pregnant
HASH DRUNK – Beat By A Girl
MARATHON CHAIRS – Dirty Latte Sanchez and Spank Me May I have My Mother
HOLIDAY PARTY – Pubic Service Announcement and Fire In the Hole
DEMENTING – Bbag and Jamaican Me Cum
BEER BITCH – I Licked Butts and according to my notes, cny
SCRIBE – Me and Maid of Honor
HABERDASHERY – My Chemical Homance
HASH CASH – Nice tits and Taj Ma Hole
RELIGIOUS ADVISORS – The 2nd Cumming and High Anus

Swing Low was sung and we were fed some tasty lasagna, salad and cookies. And that, as they say, was that until next time.

QUOTED

  • “Put the beer down and I’ll grab a load.” Catheter The Great. The look of disdain when she saw me writing this down was priceless.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Playground Hash

* A quick note I was at the abortion masquerading as a hash last weekend and took notes thank god Dude wrote it up because I had noting but bile and invective.
Anyway, without further ado here is the Hash Trash...

Hares: Maid of Honor, Anal Beads and Special Guest Hare Cuffed and Stuffed in the Buff
Bag Car: The Second Cumming
Pre-Lube: Cross Roads Pub, Beacon Street Back Bay Boston
Beer Checks: Under the bridge near Longwood T and Playground in Coolidge Corner, Brookline
On-In: Ringer Park Playground Allston
On After: Our House on Comm Ave Allston
Distance: A long ways
Scribe: Me with Nice Tits as the attendance beyotch

Pack: Dirty Latte Sanchez, Goat Throat, Wang Chunks, Beat By A Girl, Stick It to the Bros, Vagitarian, Nice Tits, Grease My Monkey’s Nuts, High Anus, Nipples Erectus, Pat My Fly, Mr. Rogers, Necrophiliac Jack, Brigham Tongue, Goes Down on Buoys, Spunk In the Trunk, Dooky Plows Her VD, Night of the Giving Head, Shawskank, Inconvenient Poop and Peppermint Pussy

Nameless Wonders: Justs….Jean, Billy, Ryan, Becky, Ellen, Sarah, Raina, Alex, Adam, Catherine, Allison, Thomas, Jenny, another Sarah?, Ted

Virgins: Ryan and Michelle
Visitors: Fuwangi Boner (RIH3)

Amazingly this trail did not take place any where near Somerville.  Also amazing was that20Wang Chunks didn’t do trail in his car but used his legs. Hope someone got a picture of that because you are more likely to see Sasquatch in person than to see Wang Run.
After circling in the alleyway behind Cross Roads, trail went toward Kenmore Square and past the first playground also known as Fenway Park where the Red Sox play with themselves and others.  Trail then veered through the parking lot next to the Boston Beer Works toward Beacon St and the long lamented PJ Kilroys.

At this point I decided that trail would eventually turn toward the Fens and I made a B-Line line for the D-Line Fenway stop and lo and behold I saw a trail mark pointing toward the Fens.  I found myself in the rarefied air of the overachieving FRBs like JMo, Inconvenient Poop and Shawskank I fell behind at the soon after the trail wound it’s way through the Longwood Medical Area and we were at the first beer check underneath the bridge over the Muddy River near the Longwood T station.

After the beer check, trail continued through Brookline and we passed through the first actual playground. MJ would have been excited. Trail turned toward Coolidge Corner and I was sure it would go up Summit Hill but was happily proven wrong and after going up Beacon St a ways and finding that trail turned down an alley behind an apartment block and ended at the second beer check which as fate ordained at a playground near a pond luckily for us all the mosquitoes were
dead.

Trail then craniumed up toward Washington Street and up a flight of stirs and then a Cuffy inspired CB brought us back down the stairs and toward Washington Square and into a schoolyard for a song check next to you guessed it; a playground.

Trail then skirted Summit Hill and turned down toward Comm Ave and across at the Allston Street intersection a turkey/eagle split brought us by different routes to the us the Ringer Park ALL TOGETHER NOW……. Playground! Where circle commenced

About this time I was dizzy dehydrated and experiencing hallucinations and was late for circle to start.  So I missed quite a bit and had trouble keeping up

I was told later that we had two virgins Ryan and Michelle.  Ryan likes golf and masturbation whereas Michelle likes pigs and Sugar Plum Fairys.

Just Allison was leaving so she needed a name and we found out that she passed out at Floppy’s house and woke up and put on his pants which led to suggestions like What Is Rufulin?  It was revealed that she was a therapist for old people so we settled on the The Rapist.  Yayyyy!

We then made our way to Our House on Comm Ave where beer and pizza were consumed in mass quantities and that as they say was that.

Playground Hash

Date: Wednesday September 23, 2009Hares: Maid of Honor, Anal Beads and Special Guest Hare Cuffed and Stuffed in the Buff
Bag Car: The Second Cumming
Pre-Lube: Cross Roads Pub, Beacon Street Back Bay Boston
Beer Checks: Under the bridge near Longwood T and Playground in Coolidge Corner
On-In: Ringer Park Playground Allston
On After: Our House on Comm Ave Allston
Distance: A long ways
Scribe: Me with Nice Tits as the attendance beyotch
Virgins: Ryan and Michelle
Visitors: Fuwangi Boner (RIH3)

Pack: Dirty Latte Sanchez, Goat Throat, Wang Chunks, Beat By A Girl, Stick It to the Bros, Vagitarian, Nice Tits, Grease My Monkey’s Nuts, High Anus, Nipples Erectus, Pat My Fly, Mr. Rogers, Necrophiliac Jack, Brigham Tongue, Goes Down on Buoys, Spunk In the Trunk, Dooky Plows Her VD, Night of the Giving Head, Shawskank, Inconvenient Poop and Peppermint Pussy

Nameless Wonders: Just Jean, Billy, Ryan, Becky, Ellen, Sarah, Raina, Alex, Adam, Catherine, Allison, Thomas, Jenny, another Sarah?, Ted

TRAIL:

Amazingly this trail did not take place any where near Somerville. Also amazing was that Wang Chunks didn't do trail in his car but used his legs. Hope someone got a picture of that because you are more likely to see Sasquatch in person than to see Wang Run.

After circling in the alleyway behind Cross Roads, trail went toward Kenmore Square and past the first playground also known as Fenway Park where the Red Sox play with themselves and others. Trail then veered through the parking lot next to the Boston Beer Works toward Beacon St and the long lamented PJ Kilroys.

At this point I decided that trail would eventually turn toward the Fens and I made a B-Line line for the D-Line Fenway stop and lo and behold I saw a trail mark pointing toward the Fens. I found myself in the rarefied air of the overachieving FRBs like JMo, Inconvenient Poop and Shawskank I fell behind at the soon after the trail wound it’s way through the Longwood Medical Area and we were at the first beer check underneath the bridge over the Muddy River near the Longwood T station.

After the beer check, trail continued through Brookline and we passed through the first actual playground. MJ would have been excited. Trail turned toward Coolidge Corner and I was sure it would go up Summit Hill but was happily proven wrong and after going up Beacon St a ways and finding that trail turned down an alley behind an apartment block and ended at the second beer check which as fate ordained at a playground near a pond luckily for us all the mosquitoes were dead.

Trail then craniumed up toward Washington Street and up a flight of stirs and then a Cuffy inspired CB brought us back down the stairs and toward Washington Square and into a schoolyard for a song check next to you guessed it; a playground.

Trail then skirted Summit Hill and turned down toward Comm Ave and across at the Allston Street intersection a turkey/eagle split brought us by different routes to the us the Ringer Park ALL TOGETHER NOW Playground! Where circle commenced.

About this time I was dizzy dehydrated and experiencing hallucinations and was late for circle to start. So I missed quite a bit and had trouble keeping up.

I was told later that we had two virgins Ryan and Michelle. Ryan likes golf and masturbation whereas Michelle likes pigs and Sugar Plum Fairys.

Just Allison was leaving so she needed a name and we found out that she passed out at Floppy's house and woke up and put on his pants which led to suggestions like What Is Rufulin? It was revealed that she was a therapist for old people so we settled on the The Rapist. Yayy!

We then made our way to Our House on Comm Ave where beer and pizza were consumed
in mass quantities and that, as they say, was that.