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