Wednesday, June 9, 2010

World Cup Hash

HARES: Twat My Mom and Night of the Giving Head and Goes Down on Buoys as the shitty Sweeper.
BAG CAR: I Eat Tea Bags
PRE-LUBE: JJ Foley’s Fireside Tavern: Across from Forest Hill Station
BEER CHECK: 1. In Franklin Park somewhere 2. In old Bear Cages Franklin Park
ON-IN: Doyle’s
SCRIBE: Sugar Plum Fairy
JUSTS: Dan, Hayley (Snatchlight), Melody, her friend, Mike, Ray, Kath, Alicia and Ben
VISITORS: Mincer (Sheffield H3), Tight Sphincter (Munich H3), Silent But Deadly (Guam)
VIRGINS: Jeremy (Sponsored by Mincer)
LATE CUMMERS: Bend Over Mommy, Octopussy, Beat By A Girl, Pygmy Poker (from Guam by way of New Bedford.)

PACK
High Anus, Dribbles, The 2nd Cumming, Bondage Barbie, Catheter the Great, Sucker’s Bet, Dirty Latte Sanchez, Twat Tart, Taj My Hole, Immaculate Erection, Necrophiliac Jack, Grease My Monkey’s Nuts, Spoonful of Semen, A La Cunte, I Licked Butts, Bring out the Gimp, Goat Throat, Cum is Kosher (driving her car right through the Chalk Talk) with Schindler’s Fist, Cum Locker and Accidentally Anal.

TRAIL
On a dark and drizzly night, hashers gathered together at JJ Foley’s Fireside Tavern wearing their favorite soccer playing nations colors for a wet and lovely run around JP. Chalk Talk was interrupted by Cum is Kosher in a “ look at me I’m Lady Gaga” moment driving her car directly through circle after which the Cajun trail made it’s way down the street east toward the overpass.  Trail then went right up the hill into the Forest Hills Cemetery where Night of the Giving Head got his name a year ago at the Zombie hash. Possibly because he remembered what happened last time he went through there, NOTHGH and Twat decided to make it a short trip through the cemetery and out the main gate. Bringing up the rear I noticed that the Zombie Police were on hand to make sure we made it safely out of the cemetery.  It’s great that we have a sweeper to make sure everyone is able to find trail, but who finds trail when the sweeper gets lost, WITH A FUCKING MAP! Goes Down On Buoys was trying his best to help us stragglers find the first beer check, and kept going different which would have been okay except that HE HAD A FUCKING MAP! So, fanning out in different directions, finding bits of trail here and there and bellowing RUs and listening for On-Ons, we finally found the first beer check on a rock outcropping in somewhere in Franklin Park. Deciding to trust to providence and not Buoys anymore, we followed trail out of the first beer check and after a swing around a football stadium we found ourselves in the old over grown and abandoned Franklin Park Zoo bear cages. Although they looked like a set out of the television series LOST, they were actually used in the filming of “Mystic River,” according to a local film historian or some alcoholic hasher. We left the beer check en route to the On-In where some people decided that they would get there faster if they followed Buoys and guess what? He got lost AGAIN. Poor Buoys. Basically trail left the cages went down a hill to Washington St where we turned left and entered the back room at Doyles.


CIRCLE AND ON-IN
The 2nd Cumming and Necrophiliac Jack did RA by committee and one of the best comments on trail was “What a waste of the date of 69.” For which the hares were given a well-deserved down down. People drank for various offenses, like visiting and not ever hashing before or not hashing lately and then Just Hayley came up for her naming. Unfortunately, Hayley had made the unfortunate mistake of dating Twat My Mom and Just Dan who proceeded to lay her whole sexual history open to the hash. She was almost named Jug Burns for getting her nips rubbed bloody on a rug next to the hot tub while she was being……..you know. But it was her use of a flash light as a sexual aid that bestowed upon her the name, “Snatchlight,” and so she shall be known hereafter. Later On Just Dan was laughing it up afterward but Dan didn’t seem to
forget that being a “Just” means he will be named soon and payback is gonna be a bitch..

HEARD AT THE HASH
“All right Princess. Let’s go,” Twat My Mom to Night of the Giving Head as they left to set trail.

P.S. Nobody knows if Buoys made it home though he did have a map.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

The Shiggy Trail

Hares: +2 Coonass, Dazed and Confused
Bag Car: Just Hayley
Weather: Nice
Wankers: Bend Over Mommy, Accidental An*l
Start: Brown bag start at the Newton Center T stop
Beer Check: 416-492 Hammond Park Pkwy (parking lot of Congregation Mishkan Tefila)
On-In: Roggie's

Pack: The Buttler Hit It, Yankee Pay $5 More, Necrophiliac Jack, Friar F*ck, 5" Penalty, Tw*t My Mom, Tw*t Tart, Mexican Humping Queen, On Your Back, Screaming Japanese Girl, Grease My Monkey's Nuts, Peppermint P*ssy, Nice T*ts, The 2nd C*mming, Bisexual Bondage B*tch, Dribbles, Goes Down on Buoys, Bondage Barbie, Yellow D*ck Gnome, An*l Beads, Stretch P*ssy, Legally Bound & Gagged, Taint My Problem, E = I'm a D*uche, C*ms Early, Goat Throat, C*mlocker, Just Erin, Just Dan, Just Melody, Just Ryan, Just Paul, Just Dan, Virgin Ray, Virgin Jess

(This is my first hash trash, so if I spelled your name wrong, or left you off, well too bad)

So the pack started gathering train-by-train and the locals stared on in bewilderment as we congregated in our circus socks with our brown bags—or was it because Buttler paced around shirtless, I don't know. But what I do remember is Coonass leading the chalk talk as he had a few special marks to introduce, including the use of a triangle as the flour version of BVC and a turkey, eagle, and chicken split. And a CJ for circle jerk.

The hares left and the pack waited for what we thought was the required 10 minutes. However, no less than five minutes after the pack was away, Necrophiliac Jack managed to snare the hares. To help us pass the time as we waited the five minutes, Goat Throat led the pack in a singing of Every Day is Wednesday in the middle of an intersection. We wrapped up our song and resumed trail, continuing along more side streets (wasn't this supposed to be the shiggy trail?) to Beacon St. where we finally ducked into Hammond Park.

We zig-zagged around the park and the pack ended up splitting between those willing to dash through the poison ivy and low brush and those who wanted to tread carefully. Trail led up to a fence that separated the park from the green line tracks and from here we had a one-foot wide dirt ledge to walk along, or we could trudge through the swamp. Impatient with squeezing between trees and the fence, I chose the latter. We eventually emerged from this shiggy (finally!) area and came upon Hammond Park Pkwy, and the beer check.

The beer check was notable for Just Ryan taking off his shirt, causing Necrophiliac Jack to refund his beer. What a waste. Hares were already away before any of us got to the check so when it came time to pick trail back up, nobody had a clue where to go. Someone finally saw a mark across the street and we plunged into the other side of Hammond Park, traversing the woods. We came upon what I thought looked to be a botanical garden of sorts and I immediately realized that the circular shape of the garden paths made this the location of the circle jerk. Sure enough a minute later I heard two people shouting on-on and I made the decision to follow the on-ons coming from the back of the garden, outside the region of the paths. Success. We continued on the trail and found a fence that we thought was closed shut. Buttler proceeded to climb the fence while Grease My Monkey's Nuts wandered around looking for an edge to circumvent. Should've waited though as C*mlocker found a latch and opened the gate right up.

Out of the shiggy, we followed a false trail, where Necrophiliac Jack spotted the manhole that he came into--err out of on the "follow the sewer tunnel" trail last year. We returned to the last check the find the rest of the pack emerging from the circle jerk and through the fence and we continued up another street. This started a deathmarch along Beacon Street, long enough that I was convinced we'd encounter a check back. But my intuition was wrong this time as trail led to the edge of the Chestnut Hill Reservoir.

Here was the site of the turkey, eagle, chicken split with turkey taking the long way around the reservoir, chicken taking the short way, and eagle going through the reservoir. A number of us thought about taking the plunge, but didn't until Yankee Pay $5 More offered to carry phones, trail notes, pants, etc. At this point Goat Throat, Buttler, C*ms Early, and myself handed Yankee our valuables and jumped into the very warm water. I bailed pretty quickly as my sneakers were weighing me down too much and Butter and C*ms Early also got out of the water shortly after, but Goat Throat made it to the other side where we met back up with Yankee and walked the rest of the way to Cleveland Circle. It was here that Goat commented that he "should probably put his pants back on." From Cleveland Circle, Buttler craniumed off to 2nd C*mming's apartment while Goat and Yankee crossed the street to Mary Ann's. All were wrong though as trail headed up to Roggie's for the on-in.

I missed the start of circle, so the only comment on trail I took down was my own: that it was a nice trail, so nice that I was able to cleanse myself of the shiggy from Saturday's moon trail (if you haven't heard, it was a seven-mile trail through nothing but woods, swamps, and a junkyard with five beer checks). Next was the dementing of the two virgins. Nice T*ts made Virgin Jess come, and we learned that her favorite sexual position is the reverse cowgirl. Stretch P*ssy made Virgin Ray come and he couldn't remember what his first blow job tasted like, but his favorite barnyard animal is the rooster. Apparently because he loves the c*ck. At this point, 5" Penalty told someone (a virgin maybe?) that the hash is "a judgement-free zone. F*ggot!"

Our DFL at this point was An*l Beads, who showed up 30 minutes after everyone else. He claimed that as he ran through the botanical garden, he was intercepted by "two sweet little old bitties with a dog." They asked him if he was part of "that running group" and then told him that he was not allowed to be in there. They told him that they had called the BC police and the real cops. AB just brushed them off and proceeded along trail, but no less than a few minutes after coming through the gate did a police cruiser drive up very slowly next to him. The cops asked him if he was part of that Hash House Harriers group and said that some women had called complaining of kids drinking and doing drugs in the park. AB told the cops that he had not been doing drugs, which was apparently enough for them (note, he did not deny that he had been drinking). Hopelessly lost at this point, he asked the cops how to get back to a main road, but that was no help, so he called the hotline, got the location, mapped it on his phone, and saw he was two miles away. What a pisser.

The FRB and FBIs were Goes Down on Buoys and Just Ryan, but the circle had trouble figuring out which one was which, so they were both declared FBIs and C*mlocker was declared FRB.... Shortly after this, someone shouted shots fired, which somehow resulted in Coonass and 2nd C*mming performing a reverse cowgirl on the floor. Necrophiliac Jack was accused of refunding, which he tried blaming on Just Ryan for running shirtless, but that's hashmanlike behavior. He also was accused of finding his manhole on trail, so he did a triple down-down.

Coonass and Dazed and Confused were accused of being snared. Legally Bound and Gagged, Bisexual Bondage B*tch, Tw*t Tart, Screaming Japanese Girl, Taint My Problem and Nice T*ts were accused of backsliding. Then at least a dozen hashers were accused of wearing marathon shirts and/or socks. Just Paul drank for trying to name himself Tricky Dicky during chalk talk (we'll take care of your name, alright?). Then all the Justs drank for being Justs.

Next we tried naming Just Ryan. We learned that he's from Maine, he's a climber, he likes to put his fingers in cracks, and he assaulted a civilian on his first hash by smacking her *ss. We also learned that he's a LARPer. Suggestions included Dust, Small Balls, Tent Pole Too Short, Shivel Shot Score!, Tent Rage, Kitty Tent, Puppy Tent, Stuff Sack, and D*uchebag. Nothing stuck so he was thrown out.

Buttler accused the hares of leaving chalk behind on trail, but the chalk was actually 2nd C*mming's, so Buttler drank for the false accusation. On Your Back was introduced as a transplant from China. she was asked to tell a joke, which was something about Moses in a desert talking to God. Nice T*ts tried naming Just Dan, which upset Just Hayley because she was the one who brought him into the hash and thought she should be named before him (sorry, not necessarily how it works). But we didn't try to name him as the pizza was out and circle had gone on long enough. Hash religion was sung, pizza was consumed, and the drinking continued.

-Tw*t My Mom

P.S. The World Cup Hash/69 Hash is next Wednesday. Don't know what to wear? Maybe these pictures will provide some inspiration. Or scroll down to the bottom of this page.  I guess now we know the real reason Yankee's heading out there next week.... (mildly SFW)

ON-ON

Sunday, April 25, 2010

April Moon Hash

Hares: Bloody P*ssy (Brigham Tongue), Cocksmith (The Buttler Hit It)
Bag Car: Accidental An*l
RA: Tw*t My Mom
Wangers: Better Late Than Pregnant, C*m Locker, Fat Box (Willy Wonka and the Backdoor Factory)
Pre-lube: J.J. Mulligan's, Braintree
On-in: Casa de Brothers Just (Scott, Brad, and Kyle)
Weather: mid-60s to mid-50s as the night wore on; overcast but not raining although it did sprinkle at one point (in the graveyard, of course!)

Pack: Bolitas An*ales, Bring Out the Gimp, Peppermint P*ssy, Yankee Pay $5 More, Octop*ssy, Bondage Barbie, Spitz, Immaculate Er*ction, Just Scott, Just Brad, Just Kyle, The Crying Gay (I Eat Tea Bags), Tongue Me Please, e=I'm a Douche

Well, we got started very late. The hares were wicked disorganized if I do say so myself, sheesh. And then everyone wanted to visit and take pictures! But seeing as I'm one of the hares I can only describe what I heard from trail, and where it went.

Soooo … trail started out through the municipal parking lot and up some side streets to Thayer Academy where there was a song check outside the `edmaster's office. I can only hope they sang something appropriate to the Tigers. Then, trail ran across the athletic fields, past the track, and up by where the Thayer cross-country course runs, before craniuming over towards the lake. There was a check with a false that led up towards Braintree High School. Peppermint P*ssy was in the front of the pack up to this point, when she went the wrong way. Oops.

Next, trail cut down south for a block or so before going through a graveyard, and over a very tall fence. I am pleased to report that all hashers made it over the fence, despite some protestations (well, one could just as easily walk around if one were so inclined). Although trail ran along the beach and included a song check, for some reason everyone skipped out on this but managed to find trail when it left the municipal beach. From here, it was a pretty straight shot (with a view check, which, not surprisingly, no one understood) to the first beer check which was behind an abandoned building.

Now the next leg of trail was interesting, mainly because it was unsufficiently scouted. After running down the main roads a bit, trail went over a bridge, along a river (on what the hares swore was public property but some abutters had other ideas and hassled the pack a bit), through a bunch of brambles and sh*t. Now, Cocksmith swore that there was a way to get through this to a public park ahead. I had no idea that I would get cut up so much that would still have scratches on my legs a week later, but, well, at that point it was too late to turn back! Eventually we all emerged on the other side. The pack, when running through here, found a wooden ladder with three steps that they took with them and apparently used in all sorts of places (like crossing a stream, climbing a fence, etc.) to the point where they apparently wondered if it had been placed there on purpose to ensure completion of the rest of trail!

After emerging from the woods and going through a park, the trail crossed a major road, wound behind some buildings by another lake (there was a fabulous view from here, if anyone stopped to see it), across a looooong parking lot to a check by the railroad tracks. Apparently no one ran the false, because again, where Cocksmith is involved, trail is going to involve live railroad tracks. Well, no one was killed. At the top of the hill emerging from the tracks there was a HUGE break in the fence, under which one could easily climb. But instead, the pack apparently used the ladder to climb the gigantic fence.

Then, trail went through another cemetery where there was a CB3, which somehow managed to lose the pack for about 15 minutes. I mean, you came from one direction, there is a CB the other direction, it's not like it's a CB27 or anything like that … and you're in a graveyard where the marks are on ROADS and not grass. I mean, how hard can it be? Ha, well anyway eventually the pack found the trail, including the zombie check, claimed that they didn't know they were on trail but well at some point they found the beer check which was among extraordinarily large piles of composting leaves and other organic detritus (it was the Braintree Municipal Leaf Composting Site, to be official). I am proud to report that Peppermint P*ssy was FRB at both of the beer checks! She had a good nose for where trail was going today, apparently.

The hares got a bit of a late start due to leaving both cranium lamps in bag car when assisting bag car with the beer. Oops. Well, after the leaf composting site the trail went down a couple of residential streets down a hill into a park. There was a check by some tennis courts where dirt trails ran in two directions. Now at this point, yours truly got somewhat lost because there were more trails but I had scouted during the day and could no longer see them. So, I decided to cut and run, but then wound up arguing with my co-hare and the end result is that the pack was literally about 200 feet from us at a couple points from here on out, but apparently didn't realize it. This is why I generally prefer to scout trail in its entirety, preferably twice, before haring but that just didn't work out logistically this time, unfortunately.

So, from here on out we laid check after check, t*t check after t*t check, and basically took the main roads up past the shopping center to the Braintree T, where we *again* managed to get lost by turning the wrong way out of the station (the exit Cocksmith had scouted was not the one I was familiar with). I am really not sure how we didn't get caught. One of the Brothers Just saw us, I can no longer remember which one, but he wasn't on trail so we told him to get his butt back on trail. I don't count that and besides, by the time he hopped the wall we could have laid a t*t check to stop him in his tracks, ha! Eventually we figured out the right way to go and laid trail to the end.

Circle was in the backyard, and, yes, the parents of the Brothers Just were watching from the driveway. Hopefully the kids will be let out again to play after this …

The hares led the pack in a stirring rendition of "Follow the Hares" even if Cocksmith did have to try and make trouble by suggesting that his wife won't be coming back from South Africa. Well, we'll see ...

Comments on trail (note that I don't really understand all of these, Gimp was taking notes and he even claimed he wasn't very good at it, so I say, don't quit your day job. Or, let Douche be scribe (hope you get a job soon, Douche!)):
  • Tw*t new song fail
  • Cocksmith Italian fail
  • Moon hash is the hangover hash from the Seacoast An*lversary hash
  • 12 months without a Bloody P*ssy
  • Too short
  • Not enough graveyards
  • Not enough blood
  • Good shiggy
  • Great shiggy
  • I didn't break a sweat
  • The description didn't mention needing a tetanus shot
  • I got lost for 2 hours
  • Not enough d*ck checks
  • Not enough uses for the ladder
An approximation of what happened in circle:
  • FBI/FRB – Peppermint P*ssy and Tw*t My Mom; DFL – Yankee Pay $5 More
  • The Brothers Just were apparently Mexicans, and were made to put the ladder over their craniums (the RA said head so we paused to comment), and drink beer while turning around in a circle.
  • So then we tried to name Just Brad. Through this process we heard a number of inappropriate stories that I refuse to commit to paper, other than to report that apparently he once had a girl run out of the room when he showed her his c*ck. Now, as embarrassing sexual situations go, that one is a winner! Oh, and to report that we did *not* name him Nasty Meat Whistle because he liked the name. And his parents report that "he's the good one." So remember that, ladies!
  • Backsliders – Tongue Me Please, Immaculate Erection, Just Scott, Just Kyle, Just Brad, C*m Locker (wait, what? She hared the m*rathon hash! Well, whatever), Octop*ssy
  • Bloody P*ssy drank for losing a hubcap (s*x toy I guess) on trail, as well as a pair of panties that were not lost on trail but were in a pair of Under Armor shorts that I thought were Gimp's. Oddly, he took my panties and did not take the shorts (the shorts are still in my car). But he did return the panties. And, for the record, they were clean – the darn things must have come out of the laundry together. Or, at least, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
  • Sweat test failure – C*m Locker, Fat Box, and The Crying Gay who apparently doesn't sweat. And Bondage Barbie and Spitz, who walked. Not sure why Immaculate didn't drink because he walked too, but maybe he does sweat.
  • Tongue Me Please drank for being the only one who did NOT have blood on trail. I am really not at all sure how she managed that, to be quite honest.
  • Moonburn – Bondage Barbie, Yankee Pay $5 More, e=I'm a Douche, The Crying Gay, Accidental An*l, C*m Locker, Bolitas An*les, Peppermint P*ssy, Bloody P*ssy, and Bring Out the Gimp for being bald. In other words, it was pretty well a social. Moonburn, pffft.
  • Speaking of bald, Gimp and Yankee did an honor down down for Glitorus (Hare Club) who is, as always, at the moon hash in spirit
  • Technology on trail – Tongue Me Please, and one of the Brothers Just, so all the Brothers Just drank
  • Bondage Barbie accused Yankee Pay $5 More of joining the walkers (hahaha, probably it was that second leg that did him in). So, again, Gimp joined him because he is bald.
  • Then someone accused Peppermint P*ssy who apparently was a walker at some point along the trail, of being spotted in a car asking for directions. Or, possibly, Peppermint accused one of the walkers of being seen in a car. Eh. Whatever, someone drank …
  • Then we sang a song for Wang. Don't remember why.
  • Next, Douche drank because he had sustained some sort of repetitive motion injury on his right arm. Can't imagine how that could have happened. Well, actually we could, which is why we made him drink.
  • For some reason, people wearing moon hash sweatshirts, hares, bald guys, and all Braintree residents drank. Just Brad did not finish his down-down but somehow escaped a redo.
  • At around this point the parents got bored and stopped observing our shenanigans, so the Brothers Just drank again, and were joined by the hares because someone accused Cocksmith of something (ok in case you haven't noticed by now, I have written these last 5 bullets just now and I can't remember quite what happened. Moral of the story is, write the hash trash before you have to make sh*t up!)
Last but not least, and this I do remember, I did an honor down-down mainly because I am now a proud resident of Cape Town, Western Cape, South Africa (as Google keeps insisting I enter it) but ostensibly the reasons were that my last few trails had some serious hills and serious shaggy, and apparently yellow fever although that doesn't make a lot of sense as Massachusetts is not in the yellow fever belt. Nor is South Africa, in case anyone is now scared of coming to visit me …
Announcements … GAP is sold out, NURD is still open. Well, considering it's on today this news is a bit late!

The next moon hash is May 22nd at Tea Bags' something. It looks like rash. It's probably house.

Following circle, we tried to order pizza only to discover that literally every place in the area was closed. Apparently Braintree shuts down of a Sunday night, around 8:30pm. As I write this now it sounds a bit ludicrous but it was annoying at the time. Anyway, Applebee's was open and willing to accept us so we all caravanned down there where more hilarity ensued. We christened Bolitas Anales "Rough McNasty" as a moon hash name but as it didn't happen in circle I'm not sure it counts. I will leave that to the powers-that-be to decide. Apparently BA is moving to Kentucky (which we all agreed is more exotic than Africa) for school, after spending the summer in California. BA, we will miss you!

Heard before and after the hash:
  • "It's not big enough." – Peppermint P*ssy
  • "If I can have s*x with a condom on, you can dance with a ladder on!" – Spitz
  • "How far into her was he?" – Yankee Pay $5 More
  • "I don't have a pen*s! I'm a lady!" – Spitz
  • "I lost $.60!" – Spitz (wow that looks weird, and I've only been in SA for less than one week!)
  • "The hard part is breathing. I was breathing beer fumes." – Douche
  • "I'm also not pregnant." – Gimp
  • "You all will enjoy me by the end of this meal." – Douche (yes, he really said this, and yes, it was as terrifying then as it seems now)
  • "How much have you had to drink before you got here?" – waitress to Octop*ssy
  • "Oh you want my number?" – Douche (this was accompanied by quite the wink, although I can't for the life of me remember who he was winking at but I think it was Bolitas Anales)
  • "Bolitas is the only man at this table I'd be gay with." – Douche (yes, he really said this, and yes, it was as terrifying then as it seems now)
  • "I don't even know my roommates and I will force you on them." – Douche (yes, he really said this, and yes, it was as terrifying then as it seems now)
  • "That's not a fry that's a puddle of goo." – Accidental An*l
And, a conversation that still cracks me up now:
  • Waitress: "Do you need a box for that?"
  • Bolitas Anales: "No, I'm going to eat the hell out of it."
  • Waitress: "Beat the hell out of it?"

Monday, April 19, 2010

Marathon Monday 2010

Apologies in advance for the sketchy nature of this write-up. I'm not even sure why I'm doing it other than that I promised I would.

Pack at Beer Check: (as far as I can remember it ... I know I am missing a ton and I probably have people in here who didn't c*m!) Peppermint P*ssy, High An*s, C*m is Kosher, Grease My Monkey's Nuts, Puff'n'Stuff, The Buttler Hit It, Brigham Tongue, Sp*nk Me May I Have My Mother, Mexican H*mping Queen, Be All That You Can Blow, Stick It to the Bros, Screaming Japanese Girl, Bleeps Sweeps and Creeps, N*pples Erectus, Bend Over Mommy, Goat Throat, Uncle John, Donkey Ho Te, Friar F*ck, Maid of Honor, GAP, Bondage Barbie, Stops to Pet the P*ssy, Sugar Plum Fairy, P*ss Stop, Lube Me In, Yellow D*ck Gnome, +2 Coonass, Goes Down on Buoys, Taj My Hole, Accidental An*l, Pbvzzzzz, C*ms to the Rescue, C*m Locker, C*ms Alone, Willy Wonka and the Backdoor Factory

"Hare": Brigham Tongue

RA: GAP

Pack at Circle: (there were more in & out and at Crossroads but I can't even come close to remembering everyone. Fortunately, my memories of circle were aided by the Facebook pictures of one of the virgins. Unfortunately, these pictures are on Facebook): Peppermint P*ssy, The Buttler Hit It, Brigham Tongue, Sp*nk Me May I Have My Mother, Bleeps Sweeps and Creeps, N*pples Erectus, Goat Throat, GAP, Bondage Barbie, Stops to Pet the P*ssy, Sugar Plum Fairy, DEEP Black Hole, `Edmaster, P*ss Stop, Save a Tree Ride a Cowboy, Goes Down on Buoys, Taj My Hole, Accidental An*l, Immaculate Er*ction, e=I'm a Douche, Willy Wonka and the Backdoor Factory, Stick It to the Bros, Spitz

Giving out beer at the m*rathon … what can I say, it's harder than you might think! Lube Me In had arrived there quite early to get a good parking spot on Comm. Ave, which he used to power a flat-screen TV off of his car battery. Nice setup, and it allowed us to watch the coverage of the r*ce, the better to see when the elites would be coming by.

The only reason I am bothering to write trash about this at all is that this group of strange people handed out papers in sealed envelopes. The contents of this are pretty hilarious and there is no way I can do it justice except to quote certain segments. At one point I was loudly summoned from the grill where I was cooking some wieners because, apparently, it was very important that I write this up in hash trash. Please note that I am not correcting for grammar:

  • "It just happens to be that the white race has set up the many so called religions. They are the ones who portray all the people in the Bible as white. The scriptures do not teach this. They are the ones behind the atheists. They are the ones behind Santa Claus, Christmas and the Easter bunny and the trinity." Yes, they were giving this to white people. If I am behind the Easter bunny then I can say I'm proud of it!
  • "All the religions of the world are set up by the devil. God only set up one true religion … This message is not for the purpose of gathering members, but to defend the word of God. Because you people have been misusing the word of God for a long time." Um, if *all* the religions of the world are set up by the devil, does this make the one religion otherwordly?
  • "The Boston M*rathon is a good example of mankind's stupidity. People want to glorify themselves. They run so that they can be seen. What have they accomplished? The bad spirits in them want to keep the people so occupied with silly things like the M*rathon. They run 26 miles and put tremendous stress on their body." – Yes, I am sure THAT is why people run the m*rathon.
  • "Those who sit around and watch the people run are just as silly because they are wasting their time encouraging the runners to behave in such silliness." – Wonder what handing out beer to runners would be considered?
  • "This m*rathon is just an example of people wasting their time. You are all lost in sin and going to hell." – No comment
  • "We are telling you this so that you have no excuse that you were not warned. What a shameful bunch of human beings." – Reverse psychology at work??

For more information or perhaps amusement check out www.hear-the-truth.com.

So anyway I had marked "trail" from Crossroads to Sp*nk Me's, because we had so much leftover beer and the bar was crowded, but we wanted to make sure everyone could find the place.

At some point in the evening, I was inside, something happened to trigger a circle. Someone called "And the hares!" and someone yelled out that I was the hare. Well, whatever, I laid the closest thing to a trail for the day and I didn't mind an excuse to drink …. For some reason Goat drank with me. Can't remember why.
Comments on trail:

  • Not long enough
  • Too many marks
  • Not enough t*t checks
  • Not enough d*ck checks
  • Not enough locals at Corner Pub asking me what I was doing (GAP wouldn't let me make my own comment at circle but he can't stop me here!)
  • What trail?

Hmmm, what else happened in circle?

People who had giveaway socks drank. People who wore m*rathon shirts drank and I drank because I thought that Bros, who had abandoned circle to go hit on someone was wearing a very similar color but it turned out not to be the same.

Visitors drank. I drank because I'm moving. Someone accused SATRAC of having new shoes. She swore they were not new. GAP smelled one and proclaimed it stank. When asked for a second opinion I agreed. It wasn't the worst-smelling shoe ever but most certainly did not smell new. When SATRAC complained that I said her shoe was stinky I asked if she wanted to drink out of it or not!

Oh, and we had virgins! Just Melody apparently made them all c*m, and Peppermint P*ssy attempted to dement them but for the most part they were not cooperative:

  • Virgin 1 just laughed at everything. Then she brought out her phone and started texting in circle!
  • Virgin 2 refused to give his real name or really do much of anything except refuse to cooperate. Peppermint kicked him back and refused to dement him.
  • Virgin 3 … don't remember much
  • Virgin 4 was asked what her favorite circus animal was. I think she said bear. But she refused to make the sound of a bear having an orgasm, so Goat Throat who had been a bear for m*rathon did so for her.

Then we all drank a bunch more. And GAP had an 8:30 bus he was trying to catch. Despite asking the time every 15 minutes since about 6pm, and claiming he wanted to get on the bus early, at about 8:25 I saw him sitting on the floor with his laptop plugged in and yelled at him that he needed to go. Not sure if he caught his bus or not; I sure hope he did!

Well that's all I can remember. And there goes 10 minutes of your life you're not getting back!

- Brigham Tongue

Saturday, April 17, 2010

2010 Boston Marathon Hash



Bag Cars: Spitz, Sp*rm Bumpin Shorty, Just Amanda -> C*ms to the Rescue
RA: The 2nd Cumming
Hares: An*l Beads, Maid of Honor, C*m Locker, Fire in the Hole

Pre-lube: Hennessy's upstairs, Boston
On-in: Kitty O'Shea's upstairs, Boston
Weather: Varied! Started off high 40s and drizzling, ended cloudy and in the 50s

Pack O'Locals
1 Girl 2 Cups, Accidental An*l, Aim For My Chin, Be All That You Can Blow, Bend Over Mommy, Better Late Than Pregnant, Blows My Mind, Bondage Barbie, Brigham Tongue, Bring Out the Gimp, Catheter the Great, C*cktologist, Coochie Monster NumNumNum, Crucifux, C*ms Alone, Deaf Dumb and Do Me, D*ck Jockey, Dirty Latte Sanchez, Double Flush, Dribbles, Drippy Spigot, Dumbledocker, E=I'm a Douche, Five Inch Penalty, Gay Pride, Goes Down on Buoys, Grease My Monkeys Nuts, Hare Club for Queers, Harpoontang, Headmaster, High An*s, Hoover McSucknF*ck, Horse's *ss, I Eat C*m, I Eat TBags, I Heart Poo, I Licked Butts, Just Jess, Just Becca, Just Hayley, Just Jeremy, Just Lesley, Just Sandra, Just Susan, Kick Me In The Nuts, Krusty the Meat Miser, Lick Hole Ah, Mexican Humping Queen, My Chemical Homance, NAMBLA, Necrophiliac Jack, Nice T*ts, N*pples Erectus, Papa Skwurf, Pat My Fly, Peppermint P*ssy, Pink Thing, Piss Stop, +2 Coonass, P*bic Service Announcement, Puffy, P*ssy Long Stockings , PVBPVbvpbvzzz, Save a Tree Ride a Cowboy, Screaming Japanese Girl, Shawsk*nk, Shorn Scrotum, Sketchy Ho, skibobbitt, Slush Hussy, Snatchsquatch, Spank Me May I Have My Mother, Spoonful of Seamen, Spunk In The Trunk, Stick It To The Bros, Stretch P*ssy, Sucker's Bet, Sugar Plum Fairy, Taj My Hole, Tampon Jelly, The 2nd Cumming, The Buttler Hit It, Time of the Munch, Tw*t My Mom, Used to Live with a Crack Wh*re, Vagetarian, Willy Wonka and the Back Door Factory, Yankee Pay 5 Dollar More, Yellow D*ck Gnome, and You Oughta Blow

Pack O'Visitors
69 on the Rectum Scale, Avalanche, Bleeps Sweeps and Creeps, Bobbin for Buttplugs, BORT, Brownie, Brrrggghhhhhh, Chinwacker, Circle Jerkinator, Counterfeit D*ck, Cuffed and Stuffed in da Buff, DEEP Black Hole, Deep Sh*t, Donkey Ho Te, Ear Shot, Fossil, Friar F*ck, Fuwangi Boner, General *ss Pounder, Goat Throat, Ice Princess, International Virgin, Jimmy Crack Wh*re, JuicyPearl, Just Lisa, Just Rachel, Kitty Kitty BANG BANG, Knees Up, Mount Me in the Mud, Mouthful of Girlfriend, My C*ck Is So Long That Even On A Cold Day It Flops Down and Hits The Urinal Biscuit! (Seriously? This is someone's name? I want to know how in the world he got named this and *didn't* like his name!), Nookie Monster, One Drunk Walking, One Hasher At a Time, Peace O Chum, Phantom of the Areola, Pig F*cker, P*ssy Factory, Roscoe Pee C*m Stain, Seizehercooch, Sister Golden Showers, SpongeBath SquarePants, Stops to Pet the P*ssy, Swamp Gravy, Swamp Whine, TheRapist, Two tickets to Pair-a-Thighs, Uncle John, Village Tool, Vincent Van Goat F*cker, Wang Chunks, Watergate and Yoron Weed

Well I would have given myself carpal tunnel typing up all those names if it weren't for the wonders of cut & paste. Where do all you circus freaks c*m from anyway???

M*rathon Saturday: the pack gathered on a cold, drizzly day. To all those people who said it never rained on m*rathon day, thanks a lot! Not much of great interest happened at the pre-lube other than that we got to check out each others' costumes, or in the case of those of us who declared it too cold to wear our costumes, we had to explain this over and over. When I first laid eyes on The 2nd Cumming and from across the room, I thought he was a girl. Not kidding.

Then someone yelled "bag car, 2 minutes" so I chugged the rest of my beer. But bag car was not for another 10 minutes or so, whee. Eventually after piling everything into the three cars, we craniumed up to the Government Center plaza next to the circus tent for chalk talk and introductions. This took about 20 minutes, but luckily it was already warming up at this point. And, perhaps just as luckily, no trapeze artists came flying out of the air to hit any of us. Group photos took another 5 minutes, so let's just say there was no shot of a hare snare on this first leg!

Of special note is that the satellite map on Google shows the circus at Government Center. It does not, unfortunately, show us. :( Anyway after all the photo opps we quickly found trail, which went right by BBAG and Dude's place. Unfortunately they were not out front with Cletus (I mean Emmet), or, if they were, I didn't see them.

Predictably, after that, we went down the stairs into the Boston Common. I skipped out on the real trail and ran over the ice rink because I thought that was more fun. We had a song check in the middle of the Public Garden, amongst the willows and the tulips and the tourists, singing something about working in Chicago.

From there, trail led out to a check on Beacon Street. For some reason everyone headed outbound on Beacon, but Tea Bags, Tw*t and I decided to head into the Beacon Hill street, figuring it looked more promising. After an on one, Tea Bags saw a true trail, and we were off to the races. And by the races, I mean the footbridge over Storrow where Just Zeth was hanging out at the top with yellow and red shots.

At the end of the bridge there was a check. I followed it east which was really stupid, when I think about it, because clearly we were going along the Esplanade. Someone yelled that we were following marks from the beer mile but actually we weren't since they had been washed away. However, after a two and out, we ran part of the beer mile course up to rejoin the rest of the pack and ran, and ran, and ran, and ran (yes the Esplanade is a deathmarch, if an incredibly scenic one!), until we hit the duck-eagle split which no one including the RA understood at chalk talk. It now made sense. Ducks were supposed to swim across the water to the other side. A couple people (yes, like Goat Throat) actually attempted this but everyone else ran around. And this time, The 2nd Cumming was not able to walk on water (this was the same spot he had run across the ice on the VD trail a few months back. Yes, I remember random sh*t, so better watch out you never know what I might remember about you!).

Crossing at another footbridge, we ran down Dartmouth Street for a while. The entire pack had blown right past a check by some public alleys so a few of us stopped to scope this out. Turns out the pack was right, and trail led up, hung a left on Newbury, where we dodged a lot of bemused civilians in an interesting remake of the Halloweenie hash. A couple people including Bring Out the Gimp tried to cut the corner and run through a church archway only to be blocked by a large metal fence.

We rejoined the rest of the pack in Copley, some of whom were singing something that I can't remember and a couple people were posing on the statue of the hare and the tortoise. After we were done, a bunch of people hit up the row of port-o-potties that were there. One hasher purposefully opened the door on another hasher, prompting a "What the f*ck??" which amused me in passing as we continued on.

Next, we continued through Amtrack Back Bay station where, I think it was Spunk kept telling everyone "Welcome to Boston." I bet the ones who were leaving were thinking something entirely different. On the other side, we temporarily lost the trail before finding that it went through the T station and emerged on a narrow park on the other side. We ran down this for a little while before coming upon an unexpected but very welcome beer check. Apparently the beer check had to be moved from a park a little further away. Not sure why. I think someone said noise, but that didn't make any sense unless the beer check was moved after half the pack was already there. I mean, how much noise can 4 hares and 3 bag cars make? Ok, never mind ...

After enjoying snacks and Sam Adams and continuing to check each other out, the pack departed and ran through where the beer check was supposed to have been. I somehow wound up running into another park where I either had to backtrack or jump the fence. I bet you can guess which one I chose. We continued on for a bit, through a playground, and on through Blackstone Square into Franklin Square where we had a song check. As this one was in the shadow of some huge church, and we hadn't sung it yet, we had a nice long rendition of "Jesus Saves." Free beer!

The pack took off along Brookline Street before someone pointed out that no one had actually seen any marks. I ran up St George Street and happened to glance left into an alley where I saw a mark, and, of course, figured that was the right path. Turns out I was right - after another arrow there was the turkey-eagle split. Now, having been party to inside information that the turkey trail was over 5 miles I decided to run the eagle trail. Yes, sometimes I am a glutton for punishment.

Unfortunately, despite a number of us yelling as loud as we could, most of the pack apparently never found the split and ran the turkey trail instead. I wondered why there were so few people on the eagle trail, because usually most people run the eagle. Unless it's a GAP trail, that is, but we don't have many of those any more.

So one of the first things we ran by was a mental hospital, and P*ssy Long Stockings announced that she worked there. Either that or she lives there and is let out occasionally. So we ran along a bunch of really boring streets then across the Mass Ave Connector. It was around this time that Hare Club spotted a building full of rock salt piles and wondered why no one had run up them, so he and I headed towards them at a full sprint but we both wimped out a bit ... I was scared because I wasn't sure if the salt was going to be so soft that I would sink in, or so hard that I would trip and crash against it and hurt myself again. As it turned out, it was somewhere in between. Whatever. Buttler, showing either no fear or no common sense, take your pick, made it to the top of the pile.

Trail wound back around, down South Bay Ave and past a prison where the hares had chalked "On-Inmates" and "On-K-9" a little while later. Unfortuately the location of the K-9 had changed since they chalked it, and the K-9 decided to bark at us repeatedly. Well, to be fair, I probably would have too had I been in its position. The C.O.s, however, just looked at us with some amusement.

We continued our deathmarch, and turned left through the shiggy behind a tall fence. Emerging on the other side, we saw that trail went up some stairs to an overpass over the highway. We also saw Tea Bags on the other side of a very tall fence yelling "Help!" Of course, there was a door to the fence about three feet from him, but I guess he was having fun playing inmate for a while.

So if I thought the last deathmarch was bad, the next mile or so of trail consisted of running alongside 93. Hare Club didn't make me feel much better at this point when he announced that he knew were the on-in was and it was nowhere near here. Well, not like I didn't know what I was getting myself into. Nice T*ts and I amused ourselves by checking out the smashed up police cruisers to the right of the road, and were a little bummed when we were practically DFL to the beer check. Then I realized it made sense since we had run twice as far as all the turkeys.

Following the beer check, we made it pretty quickly to the vicinity of the Mass Pike, where we got very, VERY lost. The FRBs had hung a left on Marginal then realized there were no marks. We ran just about every direction, including the right direction several times. Turns out the first mark from the check was not only a block away from the check, but was halfway down the *next* block, so everyone who ran that route didn't see anything and came around. Well, on the plus side, we all got more exercise.

Once we finally found trail again we ran through Chinatown, dodging civilians left and right. Someone announced that there was a third beer check by the Barking Crab. At this point, nothing would have surprised me. While we did wind up going that direction, we went through South Station (again welcoming everyone to Boston) and continued up Atlantic to another song check where, again, I forgot what we sang. Well, that's what I get for not writing this up for a week.

From here I was able to follow the pack pretty easily to the end, which turned out to be Kitty O'Sheas. After most everyone had a drink, the RA called us to order and made the hares sit on the ice blocks. They announced that this felt "just awesome." Bullsh*t, bullsh*t ... after a sufficiently long rendition of "The S&M Man" (the best part was when C*m Locker wanted to sing a verse, even though her *ss was on the ice!), we shot the hares with silly string and let them drink.

Then visitors were called in but there were too many of them to sit on the ice, so they were spared. Of everything but the silly string and the drinking, that is.

So we didn't do comments on trail which means I'm just going to make up some comments of my own:
  • Not long enough
  • Too many marks
  • Not enough real ducks on the duck trail
  • Not enough t*t checks
  • Not enough pigeons attacking GAP (yes, this really happened, I saw it)
  • Not enough gambling in Chinatown
  • What turkey-eagle split?
  • Not enough civilians calling us "hash housers"
  • Not enough Japanese tourists taking pictures
  • Not enough sh*tty beer at the beer checks (well, I didn't mind and BBAG wasn't around so I guess that's OK)
For those who want to see a map of trail one can be found here.

The rest of circle
  • Nominees for best-dressed male: The 2nd Cumming, The Blue Man Group of GAP and Bros (who claimed they did not blow each other), Wang Chunks, BORT, Stops to Pet the P*ssy, Bleeps Sweeps and Creeps, Hare Club for Queers, Tw*t My Mom, Goat Throat, and NAMBLA. Unsurprisingly, The 2nd Cumming won in a landslide. I just wrote handslide, which, well, heck it seemed funny at the time.
  • Nominees for best-dressed female: Bend Over Mommy, Sketchy Ho, Sucker's Bet, C*m Locker, An*l Beads (!), Fire In The Hole, Better Late Than Pregnant, International Virgin, Coochie Monster NumNumNum, and Swamp Whine. Sucker's Bet, Bend Over Mommy, C*M Locker, and Fire in the Hole sat on the ice for a vote. Bend Over Mommy and C*m Locker were the two finalists and somehow C*m Locker wound up winning. Don't understand that one myself (no offense, C*m Locker!).
  • The 2nd Cumming and Accidental An*l drank for being FRB and FBI. Not sure being a wanger counts as being an FRB but I seem to write that every week... anyway Hoover and Yankee Pay $5 More joined them, as DFL
  • Next up was the tallest hasher: Goat Throat, 'Edmaster, Goes Down on Buoys, e=I'm a Douche, Urinal Biscuit, Be All You Can Blow and Hoover McSucknF*ck. Buoys won this one.
  • You guessed it ... shortest hasher. Sp*rm Bumpin Shorty marched into the middle of circle and no one dared challenge her. So Buoys and Shorty had a mini-drinking contest which was easily won by Shorty, especially as Buouys wound up spilling half his beer down his chest.
  • Fuwangi B*ner loudly announced "We have a f*cking loser!" when asked if there were any accusations. Clearly he was referring to himself, so he drank.
  • The half-minds who thought they were ducks instead of various other circus animals drank: Urin*l Biscuit, Hoover, Tea Bags, and Goat Throat.
  • Yellow D*ck Gnome had apparently been hounding +2 Coonass to get new shoes. He did, wore them, and made her join him in drinking out of them.
  • The following wankers lost tags on trail: Bring Out the Gimp, C*m Locker, Mouthful of Girlfriend, Krusty the Meat Miser, and P*ss Stop, who lost hers at AGM. Tea Bags lost his underwear (what's so unusual about this, I ask?). Wang lost his later, but luckily for him it was after circle and given that his costume change involved a non-circus-related bathrobe is probably not that notable anyway. So these fools sat on the ice for a while then drank a beer.
  • The following groups of people drank for wearing the same outfit: me and Bondage Barbie (as lions), GAP and Stick It to the Bros (as Blue Man Group), a bunch of clowns, and Sketchy Ho and Catheter the Great should have drank (as tattooed ladies) but Sketchy never showed up. I think Catheter should have drunk her beer in a proxy down-down but didn't think of it at the time.
  • Next up, the m*rathon co-chairs Spank Me and Dirty Latte Sanchez drank, and were joined by Nice T*ts who was hash cash aka The Bank.
  • Just Amanda was wearing a lovely fireman's outfit with an enormous d*ck protruding from the front. I am not sure what firemen really have to do with the circus, but I can't fault her on her costume, really! So as she had attended a bunch of hashes we felt it was time for her to be named. Candidate names included: Bathroom B*tch, Pipe Dreams, Hos Me Down, Period Piece, Lady D*ck, Here's to Not Sucking C*ck (my personal fave), C*ms to the Rescue, I Got Gas, Flaming Ho, and Short'n'Curlies. The group consensus was C*ms to the Rescue!
And with that, we did hash religion and proceeded to get very drunk and debaucherous. Although nothing quite like the Fat Boy, but that's a story for another scribe...

Heard on trail and after the hash
  • Hasher: "You have the best *ss of any of the harriettes!" Harriette: "Really? Whose *sses have you been checking out?" Hasher: "All of them."
  • "Oh, this is all coming off!" - Bondage Barbie
  • "That girl can swallow!" The 2nd Cumming in reference to Sp*erm Bumpin Shorty
  • "Tea Bags, be careful, you're getting it in my eye!" - Brigham Tongue (he was waving Latte's wig around like a mad man)
  • "I got of it off in the bathroom." - Stick it to the Bros (after I commented he was no longer blue)
- Brigham Tongue

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

New Moon Marathon Hash

Hares: I Licked Butts, The Crying Gay (Tea Bags)
Bag Car: Mangina (aka "the Boston Strangler")
RA: Tw*t My Mom
Wangers: Better Late Than Pregnant, Accidental Anal

Pre-lube: Tom English's, Dorchester
On-in: Pavilion on the water, near the Bayside Expo Center
On-after: Tom English's, Dorchester
Weather: High 50s and clear


Pack: Sp*rm Dumpster (Buoys), Bloody P*ssy (Brigham), Glitorus (Hare Club), Cocksmith (The Buttler Hit It), Bring Out the Gimp, Bondage Barbie, Aim for My Chin, Willy Wonka and the Backdoor Factory -> Fat Box, Sucker's Bet, The 2nd C*mming, Peppermint P*ssy, Hoover McSucknF*ck, e=I'm a Douche -> Amelia Airfart, Just Megan, 5" Penalty, Yankee Pay $5 More, An*l Beads

Tom English's. Where we would have ended last week's trail if they'd given us a better deal on beer. C'est la vie. So the pack gathered for a drink, and the hares took a good long time to take off, because the pack seemed pretty small. I presume everyone was still recovering from the JP hash the night before, and weren't trying to attend every hash event in the week. Which makes them all way smarter than me.

We circled up in the parking lot next to the bar. Bag car had taken off without the chalk, so luckily Preggers agreed to take it with her. Nothing like wasted chalk.

Since we were ostensibly searching for STD on trail, this was explained to us. Printouts of STD had been printed out and would be used as checks, and two together as t*t checks. This worked pretty well until, I guess, the hares ran out of printouts. I can only wonder what the locals must have thought the next day when they saw pictures of a guy in banana yellow pants all over town.

Anyway after quick introductions we were off! It somehow took us a while to find trail, but it went east through some very nice neighborhoods with well-kept triple-deckers. Eventually we headed south, crossed Dorchester Ave again, and some idiots ran up Whitby Terrace to a checkback (STD used to live at the top of that road). I waited at the bottom. A little while later, we ended up at the first beer check which was in Mangina's backyard, which had a great view of downtown Boston, and was within spitting distance of STD's old place.

The most exciting thing that happened at the beer check is that Willy Wonka sat on a box, which was empty, and collapsed underneath her. She was spontaneously named Fat Box in honor of this event. And I think it's fair to say that she wasn't very pleased by this.

Following the beer check, we charged up to the top of the hill (!!) before, yes, running back down. Well, this is Dorchester. About halfway down was a song check where we sang a few verses of Tampon Factory. It was a pretty sad rendition since no one knew many verses and Gimp sang an exact verse over, like two verses after it had first been sung. Clearly we need to sing this song more often. At the next song check we sang Chicago, which went much better.

Coming back down off the hill, we turned back south onto Pleasant Street. For the first time we crossed over the trail from the previous Sunday. Today's hares had put a check at the bottom of the hill and since we had been up there the previous week, we at least knew trail didn't go that way. Although that would have been pretty devious.

Crossing Dorchester Ave again all the men were held up at a t*t check. Sucker's Bet and I apparently felt more like running than flashing, so we went and found the trail but the men still waited around to see some flesh. Ha. Of course, they caught up with us eventually as there was a check at Savin Hill Ave. I turned right, with Sp*rm Dumpster, figuring we'd go somewhere around Savin Hill Park. He ran right to the top of the hill and into the park then had to stop because he had no cranium lamp. Oops.

At the top of the park there was a check, and trail led down the far side, to a beer check at the bottom of the hill. We drank until we realized we were a bit chilly then craniumed off into the night, following the hares. And not following last week's marks. Not too far along there was a d*ck check that looked to me like a dog's bone and I didn't quite process what it was until right around the time that a d*ck was whipped out!

From here, trail went down a dead end street and across Morrissey Blvd. Only a few people were nearly killed, most of us waited for a good break in traffic. But we were excited by SN, which meant the shot check was near. Then somehow we managed to get lost and wandering around in the shiggy. I did get to see a beautifully naturalized daffodil.

Anyway the bottle of whatever ... whiskey of some sort but someone said it was American which would make it bourbon, no? Well whatever, it was at the Vietnam War Memorial. So we stopped there and drank most of the bottle before running on a lovely deathmarch along the water, up to a check. Trail actually ran across another pretty big road to a large grassy area where we lost it for a while and picked it up again in a parking lot. Then there was another t*t check and this time along I decided to help the guys out so I said "wait for the cars" to which someone responded "wait for them to go, or for them to get here!" Not wanting to be called in for indecent exposure, I had meant the former.

Moving along ... trail went through the shiggy for a bit before another quite long deathmarch in front of all the condos over to the on-in. Bag Car was parked a bit away so a bunch of us went to unload. Helpfully, someone had abandoned a shopping cart so we loaded it up with bags and Douche pushed it across the field, with some difficulty. Something about wheels not being designed for soft surfaces.

Comments on trail:

  • Short
  • Not enough dongs
  • Not enough deathmarches
  • Not enough locals asking what we were doing 
  • Too many arrows
  • Nothing
  • Not enough old marks
  • Not enough of Buttler's p*nis
  • Fabulous d*ck check

The rest of circle:

  • Peppermint P*ssy did an honorary down-down for STD who was not available
  • Then the GMs drank for some reason. Any excuse...
  • The 2nd Cumming and Accidental Anal drank for being FRB and FBI. Not sure being a wanger counts as being an FRB but I seem to write that every week... anyway Hoover and Yankee Pay $5 More joined them, as DFL
  • Glitorus drank for being a backslider. You'd think he had something going on in his life more important than the hash!
  • Cocksmith, Butts, and Accidental Anal drank for singing too much (??), and were joined by the other GMs. And bald guys.
  • Tonight was Tw*t's upside down 69 an*lversary. So he was demented, which consisted of demonstrating an upside down 69 with 5" Penalty, who didn't know what it was. 
  • The 2nd Cumming produced a Mexican wrist band that said "Hair Club" so made Glitorus and the other Mexicans (Yankee Pay $5 More, Gimp, Aim for My Chin, and 5" Penalty).
  • Then Sp*rm Dumpster accused Douche of looking like Montgomery Burns
  • Cocksmith accused The 2nd Cumming of racist behavior
  • I Licked Butts accused Cocksmith of finding more of my s*x toys on trail
  • The Crying Gay accused me of using the s*x toys, following that up with "I like Bloody P*ssy" which he said in such a way that he got accused of coveting another man's wife ... that would be me.
  • Then I had to drink. I'm not sure why. 
  • Aim for My Chin accused the 2nd Cumming of ignoring calls on trail from both his mom and his dad. Not sure why she knew this, but that's probably why she was made to drink, too.
  • Tw*t and the Crying Gay drank for wearing the same shirt, and they were joined by all the hares and GMs. 
  • Next, Douche had to drink for "warming up" The 2nd Cumming. Of course, he was joined by The 2nd Cumming.
  • Fat Box drank for not drinking in honor of her new name
  • Douche, An*l Beads, Bondage Barbie, Just Megan, and Suckers Bet drank for not drinking enough
  • I Licked Butts accused The Crying Gay of making false accusations. So she drank, because he didn't really make any. So all the GMs drank. Well, that's one way to get him to drink ...
  • The RA got confused and missed his own down-down so he drank for that
  • We decided to name e=I'm a Douche at the moon hash. Candidates included: Mr Burns, It Burns when I Pee, Amelia Airfart, An*l Baron, Douchebag Car, C*m In his Eyes, Squirts Too High. Amelia Airfart was the overwhelming winner. He was wearing aviator glasses on this evening.
  • 5" Penalty accused the hares of naming a hash after a Twilight movie.
  • 5" Penalty was accused of knowing the name of a Twilight movie.
  • Then the GMs drank again for some reason, with Peppermint, Amelia Airfart, and An*l Beads who were having a private party
  • Finally, there was a social for everyone who didn't accuse anyone of anything

Tired, cold, and trying not to become too wrecked before the beer mile a number of us traipsed back to Tom English's and had pizza from Pantry Pizza next door before heading out for a relatively early night. Somewhere on trail Hoover had found a license plate, complete with license plate holder. This is still in my car, as a matter of fact...

Heard on trail and after the hash:

  • "You're lucky I didn't have a few more swigs of this genuine American whiskey - I'd be on the street!" - Just Megan
  • "Well that was before I started playing with you." - Bondage Barbie to Douche
  • "And then I grabbed your leg." - Douche to Bondage Barbie
  • "Sing me a song at least before you r*pe me!" - The Crying Gay
  • "I'm glad I had goggles on." - Amelia Airfart

- Bloody P*ssy

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Easter Hash

Hares: Octop*ssy, Accidentally An*l
Douchebag Car: e=I'm a Douche, Yellow D*ck Gnome (injury)
RA: The 2nd Cumming

Wanger: An Inconvenient Poop
Pre-lube: Mission Bar & Grill, Boston (by Brigham Circle! Whee!)
Beer check: On the shores of Jamaica Pond
On-in: Midway Café, Jamaica Plain
Weather: Hot and sunny. Well, I was hot. Let the jokes begin.

Pack: Dirty Latte Sanchez, A La C*nte, An*l Beads, I Eat Tea Bags, Brigham Tongue, Jimmy Crack Wh*re, Goes Down on Buoys, Stretch P*ssy, Sucker's Bet, The 2nd Cumming, The Buttler Hit It, +2 Coonass, Taj My Hole, Dazed'n'Confused, Sugar Plum Fairy, Tampon Jelly, Pbvzzz, Just Edward -> Bolitas Anales, Willy Wonka and the Backdoor Factory, C*m Fly With Me, Just Evan, Bend Over Mommy, Tw*t My Mom, Nice T*ts, Virgin Kibbles, Horse's *ss, Blows My Mind, Virgin Leslye, Virgin Megan, Spunk In the Trunk, D*ck Jockey, Floppy D*ck

Easter, Easter. Let me see, the day that Christians become upset that spring holiday is all about eggs and the Easter Bunny, no longer about celebrating the resurrection of Santa Claus? The day the Christians worship their undead lord? Who knows. Sadly no one dressed as a zombie Jesus, but it was far too hot for that sort of an outfit anyhow.

The pack slowly gathered at the Mission, hopefully happily sated after Easter brunch. Or, you know, brunch with the family. I guess the Mission is the place to start a hash if you want unseasonably warm weather! The 2nd Cumming walked our three virgins through the marks. As it turns out, he probably should have refreshed the hares on how to draw a true trail mark, but we'll get to that later.

From the first check a bunch of us ran gamely down Tremont on a false before, DUH, trail went up the stairs by Stop & Shop, through the parking lot, and directly up a hill into a park. Then we ran down the hill, and back up the other side before pausing for a song check. Well, AB didn't pause very long for the song check but instead bounded up some stairs, announced he was either on-on or on a false (well, DUH), and waited for us to sing a couple verses about crazy sh*t that happens in Chicago. Turns out he was on-on, as we headed up the stairs through a parking lot, and out to another check.

Instead of running up or down the street, a few of us headed across the park, which turned out to be the right way. In the park there was a d*ck check, and happily for me Jimmy Crack Wh*re helped me out there. The 8-year-old boy behind me may not have been as pleased. For the record, Jimmy Crack Wh*re is one of my all-time favorite hash names. Love it, just love it. In any event Jimmy and I ran down some steps but couldn't find anything. So we ran back up, rejoined the others, and ran down a false. Apparently marks started not just down the stairs but across the street and part way down the block. Well, ok.

So we gamely ran all the way down to the bottom of the hill before finding a CB5, which was, you guessed it, at the top of the hill right by the stairs. Since Jimmy hadn't found anything going one direction earlier, we craniumed the other direction over to a song check where Tw*t and Tea Bags sang to us about a couple of starfish on a rock. And some waves. Or something, it was pretty boring.

Following the old adage not to lose elevation most people just continued straight from the song check. However, finding a quick on two, I figured that was too easy and started down a really steep hill which would have been a really, really, really bad idea except for that we finally found a third mark at the bottom of the hill around a corner about a block from the last mark (right about when I was getting really scared that I'd have to run up that hill again!).

We ran up Heath Street a bit, and Jimmy and I found some shiggy around the back of a building before rejoining the pack, running through a parking lot and then in a really long deathmarch along South Huntington Ave, before a BVC by the Jamaicaway, and another song check in the park. At one of these 81 song checks we did our duty by singing "Free Beer for all the Hashers." It might have been this one, I forget.

The deathmarch continued down the Jamaicaway. The 2nd Cumming ran off into the woods at some point for some reason and a bunch of people followed him, for no reason other than that it seemed like it might have been a good idea. Yet the trail was pretty clearly marked. It was a little boring though so maybe they just wanted some excitement.

After essentially running in circles around Olmstead Park and dodging civilians, we ran down a bunch of steps and along the edge of Jamaica Pond. The water level was quite high, causing the walkway to be single-file, and lots of trees to be coming up out of the water. The island that appears on the map? Yeah, not so much with the island. Anyway we were all quite relieved to find bag car there with some mimosas. Very theme-appropriate.

After the mimosa check we ran back across the park, across the Jamaicaway again, and through some very nice neighborhoods. At one point Sucker's Bet and I ran the wrong way from a check but happily the road connected back up again so we didn't completely have to backtrack. It was around this time that I saw +2 Coonass and Dazed'n'Confused carrying one of those wooden cut-out things people put their craniums in in order to have funny pictures taken … this one had a nice circus theme, and props to them also for carrying such a heavy object for half of trail!

So we ran along and ran along, and finally encountered an arrow that had been turned into a check. Clearly someone was here ahead of us and so we concluded that the trail could not go straight (since the CB was that direction) and instead started run in every other possible direction, but all we found was a CB going south … so either it was some sort of funky double check-back or goodness only knows … but eventually we ran straight from the checkback, to yet another song check by the Green Street T stop. Here we sang "Whip It Out at the Ballgame" in honor of the Sox opening night [soon to be win against the Yankees! Whee!!].

Continuing on, we ran down a couple of streets, across some Astroturf, down the road, and to the on-in at Midway Café. Rarely have I been so relieved to see an on-in … this weather is very taxing if you're not used to it. Fortunately I kept my mouth shut so no one could give me a hard time. About whining, that is. OK blah blah blah, comments on trail:
  • Not enough check backs
  • Egad! There was some shiggy!
  • Trail of the month
  • Not enough d*ck checks
  • Not enough churches saying take it in the rear
  • Not enough large bodies of water
You can see an approximate map of trail here.  It wound up varying a bit due to fences, or other changes of plans.

The hares, in a fit of extreme creativity, led us in a very loooooooong version of "Free Beer for all the Hashers."

Then we drank for Willy Wonka's one year Boston an*lversary. She even brought her own drinking supplies for this (a bottle of Jager). Go Willy Wonka! Then we drank for C*m Fly with Me and D*ck Jockey, who had actual birthdays that week.

Next up, Mommy demented the virgins:
  • D*ck Jockey and Nice T*ts made Virgin Kibbles c*m. Nice three-way they have going on there. For some reason, after refusing to get on his knees, he started to pull his cell phone out in circle. Not even sure what to say about this, but as it turns out he masturbated in the last week. Ok moving on …
  • Stretch P*ssy made Virgin Leslye c*m. Virgin Leslye is a kindergarten teacher and her favorite number is 13. Not being able to do anything with that Mommy moved on to
  • Virgin Megan. +2 Coonass made her c*m. She picked 26 as her number, prompting the "what's the best thing about 20 6 year olds? There are 20 of them." 
Yeah ok ok … so we accepted these virgins and moved on to discussion of all the various flavors of 69 that were written on the easter eggs that were hidden on trail. "69 shaved cats" was my favorite. I Eat Tea Bags found the egg with plain old 69 on it and for this he won a Monty Python's Holy Grail Ale.

Moving on to accusations, etc:
  • Spunk in the Trunk accused Accidentally An*l of dropping her map on trail … and not only on trail but at the first check. Ouch.
  • +2 Coonass and Dazed'n'Confused did an honor down-down for finding the aforementioned m*rathon-themed object and carrying it on trail. Then people threw eggs at it. Yippee. Despite their best efforts, these two strapping young men were unable to kiss each other by sticking their craniums through the holes. Wow, not going any further with that one. Oh, except to note that they started drinking before we started singing "down down down." Bah.
  • Just Edward and An*l Beads drank for blood on trail.
  • I Eat Tea Bags drank for falsely accusing Buoys of having a cranium cover in circle, when Buoys wasn't actually in the middle of the circle but was only standing in circle.
  • Tw*t My Mom accused Octop*ssy of managing to hare in both Boston and Montreal on the same day. And when one hare drinks… or anyone in bunny ears … or, well, pretty much anyone …
  • Then The 2nd Cumming dropped the h-bomb (aka as the h-word)
  • Next, Tampon Jelly brought up Spunk's exhortation for him to remove his clothes (see below!). 
  • All the kilted/skirted hashers then drank – Spunk, Jimmy, Pbvzzz, and Tampon Jelly
  • Jimmy Crack Wh*re drank again for being a hash wh*re and visiting us. Joining him in the down-down was Dazed'n'Confused who is a transplant from Tucson. And he's single, ladies!
  • Buoys accused Octop*ssy of dressing like a piano, then he was accused of wanting to finger her!
  • Jimmy Crack Wh*re and Floppy D*ck were accused of technology on trail, and were joined by Just Kibbles for his tech in circle. Somehow this turned into a massive social, but I didn't have any beer left, bah.
  • The hares left what was almost a true trail mark on trail … it was an arrow with two lines through it, not three. So, of course, they drank! Then Tea Bags drank for claiming this was acceptable behavior … on a moon trail, which this was not. So Buttler joined him as moon GM.
  • Brigham Tongue, and An*l Beads were FBI and FRB, respectively. For some reason I didn't quite catch, Horse's *ss, Blows My Mind, I Eat Tea Bags, and An Inconvenient Poop joined us. One of them was DFL (not sure being a Wanger counts as being DFL other than by definition…)
Announcements:
  • Marathon is capped, yadda yadda …
  • JP trail the week of marathon in JP (where else??)
  • Moon trail the week of marathon in Dorchester
  • GAP is coming up the last weekend in June, and will be AMAZING
  • +2 Coonass announced nothing
  • The last Sunday trail of the year is next week in Dorchester, hared by yours truly & Bring Out the Gimp. And I am willing to bet that a lot more people have read that post by now than have gotten to the bottom of this one…..
Heard before and then after the hash:
  • "No comments in the rear…" – The 2nd Cumming
  • "Tampon Jelly would you please take off your clothes. You're making me hot." - Spunk
  • "When I tell someone to take their clothes off I expect them to do so!" – Spunk
Last but not least, on the way back to the car I saw two fighter jets fresh from a Fenway flyover. Yeah, baby, that's some afterburn!

- Brigham Tongue

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Johnny Cash Hash

(because Johnny Cash is cooler than worms)

Hares: I Licked Butts, The Crying Gay
Bag Car: Bloody P*ssy
RA: Tw*t My Mom
Pack: e=I'm a Douche, Cocksmith, Goat Throat, Tw*t My Mom, Bondage Barbie, Yankee Pay $5 More, 5" Penalty
Wanger: Bend Over Mommy
Pre-lube: Casey's, Somerville
On-in: Under the Charlestown Ave Bridge in Cambridge
On-after: Courtside, Cambridge
Weather: Lousy!! 50 degrees, raining and windy; the middle of a Noreaster that continues to pummel the state

A small pack gathered at Casey's, much to the chagrin of the hares who were hoping to recycle the trail for marathon. Suckers. I was so happy to discuss Don Cherry with 5" and $5 that I nearly let my parking meter expire. Slumerville has apparently decided that it thinks it is Boston, with meters running until 8pm.

Right as we were leaving for bag car, Goat Throat showed up. Great timing, I expect running trail in the rain with a bag is probably not the most fun …

So I have no idea where trail went or what happened on trail. No one would tell me. So here is what else happened:

The beer check was in a sandbox under a roof in Ryan Playground, near the big Sullivan Square rotary. Since it was rainy, windy, and cold, we didn't stay there that long. Just long enough to drink a beer, eat some cheesy poofs, and all shout out "Moose" at the same time. And I got to relay my favorite story of an out-of-stater trying to pronounce a Massachusetts name: Cochituate came out "Cock-a-twatty." Not kidding.

So when the hares said that there was a check in front of bag car, what they neglected to note was that it was a t*t check. And of course, Goat refused to carry the beer to the car until he saw some t*ts. Well, he got me back later.

The on-in was under the bridge that connects Charlestown to Cambridge. I was quite amused sitting in my warm car watching the pack wander around through the park trying to find trail. Suckers. Although they had all acquired hubcaps on trail, apparently from running through a recycling center.

We quickly circled up and after quickly serenading the hares and performing an abbreviated version of "I used to work in Chicago" (I will note that both of these songs allowed the Crying Gay to brag about the size of his c*ck, prompting cries of `b*llshit, B*llshit…), we proceeded on to comments on trail:

  • My shoes are too dry
  • Not enough hubcaps on trail
  • Annnhhhhh
  • Not enough paper separated from plastic
  • Not enough white trash, too much wet trash
  • What trail?

Accusation, etc:

  • FRB/FBI – Goat Throat, Bondage Barbie, Bloody P*ssy
  • The Crying Gay is building a garden. Apparently he needs some Mexicans like 5" Penalty and Yankee Pay $5 More to help him out. So they all drank.
  • Cocksmith accused Glitorus of not being in attendance, so he drank for him
  • Bloody P*ssy, The Crying Gay, and e=I'm a Douche had moonburn (in my defense, I was under shelter nearly the entire hash!)
  • I Licked Butts drank for accusing The Crying Gay of being hilarious (clearly a false accusation)
  • Bloody P*ssy drank because bag car lost its hubcaps (apparently, at least, although none of the hubcaps produced actually match the car!)
  • Bloody P*ssy drank again for somehow losing a s*x toy on trail despite not running trail but shall we just say this particular item was so impressive in size (I would estimate its height at about 3 feet) that I agreed to drink anyway
  • Then Goat Throat made Cocksmith drink for making Bloody P*ssy need s*x toys
  • Then Goat Throat made Tw*t drink for not drinking enough in circle
  • Cocksmith drank for not smoking enough in circle
  • Barbie drank because her gloves were wet, so clearly she was fingering herself on trail
  • Then there was a social because we were all idiots for being out on such a night
  • Finally, The Crying Gay drank for bestiality. I forget why.

We finished up circle and quickly proceeded to the on-after to drink overpriced PBR and eat very doughy pizza. But the bartender had some amazing facial hair going on. And the Bruins beat the Devils!

Heard before and then after the hash:

  • "What's that sound? Oh wait, it's me!" – Ice Princess (oops, sorry, wrong hash, but I still find that hilarious)
  • "Give me an alley and my pants are down." – Goat Throat
  • "I promised myself I wouldn't get wet tonight." – Bloody P*ssy
  • "I usually try to say at least one stupid thing just so I can quote myself." – Bloody P*ssy

- Bloody P*ssy

Sunday, March 21, 2010

March Madness Hash

Friar says:
Hello everyone - since none of the regular scribes were there, I am attempting to scribe. At the Newtowne, I took notes on a paper plate (which I still have) but started half way through the virgins. I filmed the opening circle so I'll be able to get the attendance list that way.

Nips/Jamaican - do you remember the names of the virgins. I got the last two. I remember a lot of them were with the Army and not supposed to be drinking.

Did anybody know where trail was supposed to go. Hares - this is your chance to set the record straight, since I'll have not choice but to believe you. As usual, I caught up with the people who were lost - Oh wait, that was most of the pack at some point.

Anyway - going through a particularly bumpy patch of sky, but it's not that much worse than the Silver Line to the airport.



Someone responded with:
For the virgins, I cant remember their real names.... all I can really remember is:

  • Loud Red-Neck guy wearing jeans/t-shirt and carrying a bottle of Gatorade filled w/ piss colored vodka
  • Business Casual Walker who dresses better for a hash than I do for work
 Song Checks (fail):

  • I used to work in Chicago, Sh*tty Trail
Comments on trail:
  • "With this many virgins, we can afford to lose 2-3 and no one will notice"
  • "With the trail this well marked, it must be False" (it was)
  • "Are you running for beer?" ( 8 year old girl in playground)
  • "The geese definitely havent migrated north yet....this baseball field 
  • isnt covered in sh*t " (Gimp)
On-in comments:

  • "Wow, we really stink" (Jamaican Me C*m)

Accusations:
  • Failed Sweat Test (Gimp memory failure of who actually got called in)
  • Marks too close together
  • Moose Knuckle had more marks on trail than the hares

Sunday, March 14, 2010

St. Patty's Day Hash

Hares: Dribbles, I Eat Tea Bags
Bag Car: Bondage Barbie

Pre-lube: Hanc*ck Tavern, Quincy
On-in: Cagney's, Quincy
Weather: Lousy!! About 38 degrees and pouring rain; the middle of a lovely Noreaster

RA: Bend Over Mommy

Wangers: e=I'm a Douche, Tw*t My Mom
Observer: Cyrus



Pack: Brigham Tongue, Ski Bobbit, C*mlocker, Bend Over Mommy, The Buttler Hit It, Wee Willy W*nker, Virgin Edward, Stick It to the Bros, Stops to Pet the P*ssy¬

OK, well I am surprised that I even made it to this trail between the hangover from the Seacoast Green Dress run the day before, and the fact that the weather was just flat out lousy. And apparently no one can be bothered to go to Quincy which is sad, because there are some great trails down there.

Bend Over Mommy was channeling Goat Throat by wearing a skin-tight cellophane (or whatever, it was red plastic) number which she thought might keep her dry. I, on the other hand, like an idiot declined to wear my waterproof jacket instead opting for a sweatshirt that was more like 20 pounds of dead weight within about 15 minutes.

After a quick chalk talk on the back of Buttler's jacket, we were off to find trail. Happily for everyone the hares weren't trying to confuse us so we pretty quickly found trail, and ran through the neighborhoods and a pretty cool stretch through some campus before commencing what felt like a deathmarch past an elementary school and up to what appeared to be a beer check, because we saw bag car, the hares' bags of flour, and a trail leading into some sort of marsh park. However, we couldn't find the hares anywhere, and really who cares about the hares but we couldn't find the BEER.

Barbie called and confirmed that the hares were indeed in the park somewhere so we wandered in. Eventually I quit trying to avoid walking through the puddles since my feet were already soaked. We found the hares (and Guinness and whiskey!) by an old cemetery facing out deeper into the marsh. Apparently that is where trail was supposed to go, but what had been navigable mud when scouting had turned into an impassable river, and luckily for us our hares weren't *that* crazy.

So after the beer check we headed back out to the road. Virgin Edward found an unopened Bud Lite on trail and proceeded to throw it away (for which he later drank beer that wasn't so sk*nk). After running down the road a bit, the remainder of the trail was mostly shaggy – it cut into the marsh and ran essentially along the edge of it. Jumping over the natural and man-made culverts was great fun … for a while. At one point along here I made the comment that the only part of me that wasn't soaking wet yet was my *ss, then I got lazy and nearly didn't make it over one of the culverts. I can tell you, landing *ss first in one of those would definitely have gotten it wet in one of the most unpleasant ways possible!

Emerging on the other side of the marsh near a school we came across C*mlocker who had lost trail. We found it, though (the more eyes the better when the flour is quickly washing away) and ran through what appeared to be cross country trails for a while until we lost trail again. Happily, upon gaining higher ground we figured out where the pack must have emerged and C*mlocker saw a mark cleverly hidden behind a tree. A bit too cleverly, I am so glad she was there!

We ran past where the January moon hash ended (this has all happened before, and will happen again!) and back down the hill. Cheaters that we are, we knew one of the directions off a check led nowhere so we followed the real trail up to 3A where we found empty bags of flour, a couple faint chalk arrows, and not long after were on hare (Tea Bags), and walked the remainder of trail (which he promised was a half mile and was actually more like a mile!). Note to future hares – when laying flour trail in a monsoon, you need about 1 ½ times as much flour as usual (as I had discovered the day before!).

Arriving at Cagney's was very exciting mainly because we could all change into some dry clothes. The walkers' trail today involved walking 4 blocks to the T, taking the T one stop, and walking to the on-in. Nice. I'm surprised the walkers hadn't started in on the sandwiches & stuff while waiting for our soaking wet butts to arrive!

After everyone who wanted to had changed, Mommy called us to circle.

Comments on trail:

  • Not enough shiggy
  • Not enough crawling through the mud
  • A little too dry
  • No t*t checks
  • Not enough swimming

Today we had one virgin, who apparently came to part of trail last week but was never demented. Virgin Edward claimed that the internet made him c*m (that old story again). He would "of course" get off a bus full of homosexuals, and while he was a math major did not know the square root of 69 although he did get the joke pretty quickly. Other good quotes: "That's $1 in front of a v*gina"

When asked if he would help his uncle Jack off the roof: "You've got it! He's my uncle, man, that's family!"
If he were a male sheep he would f*ck a female sheep (really, what sort of a question is that? That's just silly). His favorite sexual position is reverse cowgirl.

Out of a pack of nine, we had three visitors (Ski Bobbit from Old Fahts, Stops to Pet the P*ssy¬ from Burlington, and Wee Willy W*nker from White House H3). Thank goodness for the visitors! Dribbles drank as an ex-co-GM and so Tea Bags drank for being her co-hare, and Buttler and Mommy drank for also being current GMs.

Accusations and other stuff that went down in circle:

  • Someone accused the walkers for taking public transit, but since that was the walkers trail it was a false accusation
  • Dribbles accused Tea Bags of spilling Guinness on her
  • The hares were accused of choosing a pre-lube that did not serve Guiness (but it did have Long Hammer IPA and free goldfish!)
  • Stops to Pet the P*ssy¬ accused the RA of causing the terrible weather but then had to drink too because that accusation made no sense whatsoever
  • Mommy accused the hares of trying to re-create the Pearl Necklace by making us hash in a monsoon
  • Buttler accused Mommy of blood on trail but she wasn't actually bleeding so he drank for a false accusation
  • Buttler accused Brigham Tongue of having a sex toy on trail (this was a rubber ball) but Mommy proclaimed that he had to drink for calling a breast implant a sex toy
  • Then Ski drank for spilling beer
  • Buttler had to drink for trying to take over running circle from the RA (booo!)
  • Stops to Pet the P*ssy¬ then drank for accusing Mommy's socks of being new shoes (ok this doesn't make a lot of sense but that's what my notes say!)
  • Stick It to the Bros actually accused someone of something, and brought up Just (formerly Virgin) Edward's discarding of an unopened Bud Lite on trail, so Just Edward drank. 
  • Brigham Tongue, The Buttler Hit It, Bondage Barbie, I Eat Tea Bags, and Stops to Pet the P*ssy were crazy enough to hash both days of this sh*tty weekend (although I will say … what else are you supposed to do in such lousy weather???), so we drank an honor down-down
  • C*mlocker drank because she hadn't done anything stupid. And she was a backslider along with Ski Bobbit and Wee Willy W*nker
  • Dribbles and Just Edward were last up, and they drank for having a private party. And the same hairdo. I sincerely hope they were not talking about their hair during their private party!

Announcements: 

  • Wednesday May 12th – Marching Tour 69th hash with Ski Bobbit. Or something like that.
  • There's some event involving the Boston marathon in a couple of weeks. Apparently it involves hashing every day for a week. Sounds like fun. 

After circle we all attacked the piles of sandwiches. Apparently cold can make you hungry! Not long after we finished, Tw*t and Douche showed up to help us eat the leftover food.

Heard before and then after the hash:

  • "She's Irish. She should be drenched in beer." – I Eat Tea Bags after spilling Guinness on Dribbles
  • "We have to get high and look for Mommy" – Brigham Tongue (I was talking about elevation; she was wearing a bright jacket. Really …)
  • "Where's the food?" – The Buttler Hit It (the food had been sitting out since we arrived at Cagney's)
  • "Where's the food?" = e=I'm a Douche (there was less of it at this point. Perhaps it was hiding)
  • "She's getting P*ssy." – Bend Over Mommy when asked where Bondage Barbie was. Ah, the difference a capital letter can make.

Sorry this was late, and I'll be missing a few due to sprained ankle and travel, but I'll see you all at the hash on Easter weekend!

- Brigham Tongue

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Toga Hash

Hares: Spitz, Mexican Humping Queen
Bag Car: Just Amanda
RA: Shawsk*nk
Pre-lube: Beantown Pub, Boston
On-in: Good Bar, Boston
Weather: Gorgeous!! Sunny and mid-50s. Spring has sprung!

Pack: Brigham Tongue, The Buttler Hit It, Hoover McSuck'nF*ck, Sugar Plum Fairy, C*m Fly With Me, S*xtra Credit, Just Kara, Virgin Brad, Virgin Jeff, Shawsk*nk, Puff n' Stuff, Grease My Monkey's Nuts, Just Stan, Yellow D*ck Gnome, Lick Hole-a, Virgin Alicia, Virgin Kristen, Tw*t My Mom, Virgin Hayley, +2 Coonass, Virgin Melody, N*pples Erectus, Blows My Mind, Horse's *ss, Stick It To the Bros, Floppy D*ck, Bleeps, Sweeps, & Creeps, Jimmy Crack Wh*re, Nice T*ts, Better Late Than Pregnant, Just Kyle, Just Scott, Necrophiliac Jack, Just Lesley, Just Danielle, Virgin Rob, D*ck Jockey, Bondage Barbie, I Licked Butts, Goes Down On Buoys, Far From F*cking, Immaculate Er*ction, Taj My Hole, The 2nd C*mming, I Eat Tea Bags, Target Practice, Just Patrick

Late C*mmers: Time of the Munch, Peppermint P*ssy, An Inconvenient Poop, Vagetarian
Wangers: Bend Over Mommy, Willy Wonka and the Backdoor Factory, Jamaican Me C*m

I am sure I missed some people in the headcount, this was officially the biggest pack of the year so far and probably the biggest since the nice weather last fall when we kept ending at the Hong Kong.

So we started out front of Beantown Pub, and ran past BBAG's place where, for like the third time in a row, there wasn't a beer check, a song check, or any such thing. Trail then ran through the Boston Common up to a check back; the trail ran parallel to Beacon up to the next set of stairs, then up Joy Street, and down Mount Vernon to a check. Not surprisingly, we ran through Louisberg Square then back up the hill and around for a while. At a certain point a small contingent ran up the hill at a check, and yelled "On-on" while some others had found a check at the bottom of the hill. Either the first set of runners were nuts, or the pack managed to shortcut trail and find a check.

Not long after that we raced across Cambridge Street, up some stairs, past some shops and over to a beer check in the park near all the hospitals. For the first time in a long time, the pack wasn't freezing cold after five minutes so this beer check lasted a little while.

Upon heading out, we quickly found that trail went across Staniford and up some cool twisty steps to a song check at what appears to be a mental health hospital. In the hurry to find trail after, there was a t*t check at the bottom of the stairs after which pack got really, really lost … I finally found what I think was trail heading out essentially backwards from the t*t check, and around the corner, to what looked like a crossed-out mark through a parking garage. Tea Bags and I ran though there and found nothing, but ran far enough along that we finally found a check. Trail led into the North End from there, and around a little bit. At one point there was a CB4 or some such, so we marked the check and ran the only other direction we could – I was at the front of the pack with Bros and Tea Bags and we literally ran right past the beer check up to Christopher Columbus Park before doubling back and realized that the beer check was at the little park across from the Living Room. We stayed at the beer check long enough for Buttler to break a 40 he'd found on trail (apparently another sex toy), prompting a yell of "The Buttler Did It!." It was also at this beer check that An Inconvenient Poop deigned to join us, and I think I saw Peppermint and Vagetarian here for the first time as well.

Pack was away not long after the hares, after Nice T*ts saw people in apartments on the phone looking down at us. I was running with nearly a full cup of beer at this point, so luckily there was a song check by the Aquarium. After this I got a little lost with all the crazy cow path streets, but we did have an RIP song check outside the Hong Kong (oh, I have so many happy memories there…), and perhaps not incidentally when trying to find trail we ran right past a fire truck with a bunch of not-too-shabby-looking firefighters. Unfortunately this was an unnecessary detour because we'd gone the wrong way from the check and missed the on-in. And so it goes.

Into the basement of the bar we went; it was great because it had both strobe lights (which were turned off at some point), and a stripper pole. And some random guy, probably either from the press or the FBI, took a picture of us halfway through circle. If you're not afraid, maybe you should be ….

Comments on trail:
  • It sucked
  • Not enough song checks
  • Not enough t*t checks
  • Not enough t*ts
  • Not enough pole dancing
  • Not enough hot firemen
  • Not enough beer
  • Not enough marks
  • Hashmanlike behavior
We had a ridiculous number of virgins. Luckily since none of our dementors were there, N*pples Erectus stepped up to the task of coming up with unique questions for all the virgins:
  • No one made Virgin Kristen c*m, not even the internet! Tea Bags was more than happy to step forward as her sponsor. For whatever reason of her own, she would prefer to be with Tea Bags than with a mechanical device with batteries. Well, to each her own.
  • Just Kyle made Virgin Brad c*m. Virgin Brad and Just Kyle are brothers, as is Just Scott. Happily, this is the first time either brother had made Virgin Kyle c*m.
  • Tw*t My Mom made Virgin Melody c*m, but since Tw*t was sponsoring someone else, The 2nd Cumming stepped up to sponsor Melody. Melody would not get off on a bus full of lesbians.
  • Tw*t My Mom made Virgin Hayley c*m. This one claimed she was good at math, and did in fact guess that the square root of 69 was slightly more than 8.
  • Floppy D*ck made Virgin Alicia c*m. She didn't know if his d*ck was floppy or not, at which point Floppy apparently demonstrated, causing Virgin Alicia to exclaim "Thank God I was facing that way!" (away from the display)
  • Shawsk*nk made Virgin Chris c*m. He had no idea what the strategically placed dollar bill was for.
  • Shawsk*nk also made Virgin Jeff c*m, and since Shawsk*nk was otherwise occupied Buoys was called upon to be his sponsor. A stallion is his favorite barnyard animal (yes, a stallion, not a mare)
  • Virgin Mike got picked up on the street by Just Cara, so I guess she made him c*m. There was another virgin with him who Just Cara picked up at the same time, but I didn't catch his name. Virgin Mike said that he would be the pitcher in a relationship between the two of them. Not everyone in circle agreed with Mike on this one!
  • Virgin Rob's hand made him c*m. Not sure I understand that one. Apparently he had a real sponsor, and a hot chick no less, but he prefers his hand. Well, to each his own. He somewhat redeemed himself by saying that he would choose Just Danielle over Stick It to the Bros, and he would also choose GAP (who he apparently knows from somewhere – this guy gets around!) over Bros. To top this off, he would take both Just Danielle and GAP over having one at a time. Like I said, this guy gets around…
Accusations and other stuff that went down in circle:
  • Puff `n Stuff, Jimmy Crack Wh*re, and Grease My Monkey's Nuts were visitors
  • Then Puff `n Stuff kept talking and not giving proper respect to the RA, for which he was made to drink. And when one bald man drinks, all bald men drink. And when one swim coach drinks … well you get the idea. Nice T*ts serenaded this lot of unworthies with some song derived from "I Will Survive" that I forget everything about other than that it was cool
  • Backsliders – S*xtra Credit, Far From F*cking, An Inconvenient Poop, D*ck Jockey, Peppermint P*ssy, Floppy D*ck, and Jamaican Me C*m. For some reason Time of the Munch wasn't in circle (or I didn't see him) but he's a big backslider too
  • FRB – The 2nd Cumming. No one knew who the FBI was, so N*pples Erectus volunteered to drink. In another big surprise, no one knew who was DFL so the lovely pair that is Buttler and Tea Bags volunteered to drink for that.
  • Dribbles and Just Hayley had on new shoes (booo!)
  • Sweat test failures – Willy Wonka, Jamaican Me C*m, Peppermint P*ssy
  • Just Stan was made to drink for announcing at a beer check that his racist behavior time had decreased since he started hashing
  • Speaking of racists, S*xtra Credit had on racist attire and drank for it
  • Lick Hole-a for going to Atlanta to defend her dissertation rather than hashing
  • Just Patrick was accused of something
  • I Eat Tea Bags, Goes Down on Buoys, and Peppermint P*ssy were all wearing the same shirt, which is the shirt that Stick It to the Bros wears on like every hash except for this one. But he had to drink anyway.
At this point all the female Justs were made to do a pole dance, with the winner getting called in for naming. Personally, I thought Just Amanda was the best – that woman knows her way around a stripper pole! But the general consensus was that Just Danielle had been the best. Unfortunately since this was just her second trail, no one knew anything about her and she was tossed back.

Just Patrick had hashed a few more times than that, so he was called in for naming. Names ranged from Whiskey D*ck to Little Bunny F*ck You to Undercover C*nt to the eventual winner – Yankee Pay Five Dollar More.

Announcements:
  • Seacoast Green Dress Run, The Cove Lounge in Revere, Saturday, March 13th at 1pm HST.
  • Something is going on at Da Pitts at some point. Check the web site or something.
  • March moon hash will be on the 30th
  • No one announced it, but register for marathon already.
Heard before and then after the hash:
  • "I'm just waiting for my 30-rack." – Mexican Humping Queen to the bartender
  • "I'm not that big." – Puff 'n Stuff
Next week is a big week with two St. Patty's day-themed hashes, BOTH of which are T accessible. And I'm haring one of them! Ok, enough self-congratulation for one night … Hopefully see a lot of you then!

Brigham Tongue