Furry Hash

Hares: Maid of Honor, An*l Beads
Bag Car: C*mlocker
RA: Necrophiliac Jack

Pack: Brigham Tongue, Vagetarian, Better Late Than Pregnant, Tampon Jelly, High An*s, Bring Out the Gimp, Octop*ssy, Mooseknuckles, N*pples Erectus, Necrophiliac Jack, The Buttler Hit It, Catheter the Great, Nice T*ts, Bleeps, Sweeps, and Creeps, Bend Over Mommy, Goat Throat, e=I'm a Douche, One Girl Two Cups, My Chemical Homance, Schindler's Fist, Pbvzzzzzz, F*cks All, Just Rebecca, Just Susan, Dirty Latte Sanchez, Tw*t My Mom, Jamaican Me Cum

Latecummer: Just Melvin (showed up at or around the first beer check and took his usual place as FRB)
Wangers: Beat By A Girl, Dude Where's My Virginity, Krusty the Meat Miser, P*bic Service Announcement, Spunk In The Trunk

Pre-lube: Charlie's Kitchen, Harvard Square, Cambridge
On-after: The Pub, Ball Square, Somerville
Weather: Clear, sunny, and cold (20s)

Amazingly the entire pack wasn't wasted at the start thanks to the slaughter masquerading as a Patriots game and not enough parfaits. Gagh, well there's always next year.

Given that this was a furry hash, some people came well prepared. Mooseknuckles had moose ears (nice!). The hares, of course, were hares (haha), Tw*t My Mom was a bloody version of the Cookie Monster, e=I'm a Douche was a gorilla, and Bring Out the Gimp wore a yellow chicken outfit brought by Maid of Honor because Necrophiliac Jack refused to wear it. Guess he must have been concerned about his appearance that day because he had gotten a haircut and complained that none of the people who mentioned it actually said he looked good. Octop*ssy asked Douche if he had a head, which was hilarious on many levels.

Goat Throat was visiting and apparently confused red cellophane with fur, as he was wearing a copy of his attire for the Seacoast Red Dress run, namely he wrapped himself in red cellophane and called it a day. I really hope there are pictures of this on Hashspace because it was probably the most weather-inappropriate attire I have ever seen. Also on our way to bag car a civilian told Goat that his shoes didn't go with his dress – although I am hard pressed to think of shoes that would go with that dress.

I am also compelled to note that BBAG showed up with a standing lamp for Catheter the Great, who announced she was not taking it on trail. But it was a nice lamp.

Bag car was parked on JFK but since no one knew exactly where on JFK we walked the long way around the block in the freezing cold weather. In the process of getting to bag car we found a check so after an extremely abbreviated chalk talk we headed immediately to the check. About half the pack apparently found the right trail but either didn't tell the rest of us or, more likely, we couldn't hear them due to the lovely sounds of Harvard Square. The rest of us tried to find trail, heading towards Harvard Square proper. We didn't find trail but some Japanese tourists took our picture.

Eventually we did find trail but were quite confused to find a mark pointing the wrong way. This was one thing leading up to the check we found but entirely another once we were on-on and heading in the proper direction. Heh. Anyway trail led down a few blocks and back up across Mount Auburn and up to the Harvard campus. Just inside the gates there was a song check where we sang a few verses of "Yogi."

Inevitably, trail led up the stairs, past the libraries and through what is apparently called the Sever Quadrangle. Less inevitably, trail did not go up the art museum ramp but instead just went around the corner on Cambridge Street. After running past the library yard pack somehow got lost even though the marks were fine. Eventually we found where we were going, saw a BN, and from there it was a quick run into the first beer check which was outside An*l Beads' place.

At this beer check the hares reported that they had already had their photos taken with an Indian family and a cop. Wonder what the cop thought about two hares running around on a night other than Halloween. Buttler had managed to find a very large frozen cucumber on trail, and Necrophiliac Jack was heard saying "I just got shanked by chalk, and not in a good way." As opposed to getting shanked [by chalk] in a good way I suppose.

After quickly drinking our beers (hey it was cold), we headed out – crazy me I hit a F, but the rest of the pack went the right way. Due to this I was near the back of the pack when entering Lincoln Park and encountered some guy laughing maniacally at us from 100 feet away. At first I thought this was another hasher but I guess it was just some random guy but he was literally cackling at us – loudly – he sounded evil. Not even kidding.

Running away from the scary-*ss guy we continued up and around through the streets of Somerville. When crossing, I think Highland Ave., I heard one of the funnier comments on trail: "The chicken went that way and hasn't come back yet." Well, it was funny at the time. Right around this time Buttler found a Christmas wreath on trail which he wore the rest of the time. Kind of furry, I suppose.

The promised urban shiggy was in the form of going through a fence and along live train tracks before veering off the tracks and running past an abandoned and half-collapsed International Paper Company factory where we had our second beer check. The hares clearly had the most fun today because they ran into some crazy lady who was going off about how much she loved rabbits. To snuggle, or to eat … or both, perhaps! The hares ran away before being subjected to any of this.

After the beer check trail was pretty well a straight shot to The Pub. Oh, silly me, no, the on-in wasn't inside on a freezing cold day instead it was in the parking lot across the street by the train tracks. In the hares' defense I suppose that with the NFL playoffs on it was probably hard to find a bar that would allow our shenanigans.

It was far too cold for me to take any sort of notes so apologies for the sparseness of the recounting of circle. The hares sang us "My Girl's a Vegetable" and pretty much right when that was done the pack got really cold.

I do remember that there was a social for everyone not in costume (which was at least half the pack).

Buttler accused Bloody P*ssy (who dat?) of losing her dildo on trail and produced what was at this point a broken frozen cucumber. Lovely …

We tried to name Just Melvin (who really does need a name) but were far too cold to think of anything creative. Which is good because I was too cold to write any suggested names down. He was tossed back and the pack went through quite probably the fastest version of "Swing Low" in recorded history, much to the apparent disgust of the RA, who was probably too cold himself much to care that he lost control.

I had to leave just after circle so I'm not sure what debauchery went on at The Pub at the on-after.

I am now going to get on my soapbox and implore winter hares: Unless your trail is long (like over 5 miles), consider having only one beer check. Beer checks are cold, we lose our warmup, and there's less money to spend drinking at the on-after where it's warm. Just my $.02.

- Brigham Tongue