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)
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
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
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