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
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