Saturday, August 24, 2013

Summer BBQ Hash

What: Boston Hash House Harriers Summer BBQ
Where: Dorchester (various locations therein)
Trail: Brokeback Baby
Host: Condom Search and Rescue
Mismangament in Attendence: Hare Club for Queers, Oink Oink
Ohh, Blubber Fucker, Wikipedophilia

Pack/Everyone else: Plus 2 Coonass, Snap Off, Swedish Eagle,
Just Theresa, Just Carly, Just Marline*, Just French Guy*, Virgin Patrick, Hoover
McSuck n Fuck, Takes it in the Assburger, Cums Alone, ALL the cocks, Pat My
Fly, Friar Fuck, Visitor From Phillidephila, Other visitor (who was at GAP), Better
Late Than Pregegnant, Iggnorance is Piss, Perice my Souraus, No Man On the Moon, Beat By A Girl,  Just Luara, The Butler Hit It, Titney
Spewston, Takes it in the Rectory, Udder Whore, Chris Brown Eye, Hipsterectomy,
Anal Disco, Vagaterian, Neighbors Who Provided the Dance Party, Mult-colored
chalk, others I am forgetting.


If you were dumb enough to run the Ball Buster trail
(Swedish Eagle, ALL the cocks, Snap off), that trails first beer check was at
Dot Ave Tavern, the start of the normal BH3 trail. Apparently the ball buster
trail ran past a lot of cops and a stolen car that wasn’t theirs. Since it
hadn’t rained in two weeks, the marks from CPA and Yankees trail were still
visible, and there was the incoming ball buster marks, and the out going Bh3
marks. Needless to say, there were a lot of marks, but only one set were true.
After hanging out at Dot Ave for a while – 2 or 4 pitchers – the hare
disappeared, and giving him a few minutes cranium start, we set out after him.
The RA was lazy and used the same circle as the Yankee and CPA trail, with a
note to only follow green marks.

A pleasant job up hills in Dorchester:

Starting from the same circle, this trail went the other way
from CPA and Yankees, and those of us who followed trail never saw their marks
again. A few twists and turns later pack was halted by a tit check and until
Titney freed us. Trail crossed the street and ran through CPA and Yankees beer
check before turning up a very predictable CB up a very step hill. Trail turned
and went through a housing development, then up the same hill, but one block
over. The hash always run up hill. Pack got separated and we definitely didn’t
wait for every/anyone at the Group hug outside a school. It was a trail head
free zone, so Butler just kept going. I was quiet surprised at the amount of
cat calls I got for hashing in a kilt; the locals thought it was a dress. I
didn’t show them the error of their observation. Trail went, predictably, up
another hill and turned left to a BN and a beer check in a park. There was
beer, bag car, and the walkers.

Beer check in a park: 

Was quiet pleasant. No one did
anything stupid, and no one played on the jungle gym. There was a black bag
full of PBRs. Eventually the Justs arrived and virgins arrived (apparently they
had followed old marks). And eventually the hare left.

Running down hill towards beer (ie, the trail with no

The hash ran down hill, not sure why. True trail went across
a road, then randomly crossed back over, and I was almost hit by a Vespa. I
will note that the reason I was almost hit was because one of the harriettes
distracted him. I guess that’s hashman like beaviour? Trail turned towards
savin hill station and even though everyone’s CB senses were screaming, we
followed trail into a dead end that was, indeed, a check back. Trail actually
went around the other side of the station, and Butler wishes he had jumped the
fence to find trail. From there trail turned back out to a tit check on dot ave
(thanks again Titney; the random stranger on a bike thanks you too!!!) and
eventually lead to a BN on a corner and true trail and on in going into a back
yard filled with hashers.


After a significant amount of time had passed, and beers
were had by all, Coonass started the Ball Buster circle, and everyone else
watched. Note that since this was a ball buster circle, there were bags of ice
to cool off on. This will become important later. The hare was called in first –
The 2nd Swedish Eagle, then the FRB/FBI/DFL (ie the entire pack),
and someone commented that Snap Off was in a rush, which turned into…Rushin’
Rushin’ bear. Roughly 24 verses later, Snapp off, ALL the cocks and Takes it in
the Assburger got off the ice. We toasted to G – he’s not dead, he’s lost on
trail – and ball buster circle ended.

Blubber then made one of the few good decisions of the
night, and decided to run the Boston H3 circle on the ice as well. Brokeback
graciously parked it on the ice, and tried to sing about how he likes to
fornicate. No one in Boston does, apparently, since we didn’t know the song.
Boston FRB/FBI and DFLs were called in, and I’ll just assume it was Swedish,
Snap Off and Friar.  We sang them another
song, but they weren’t iced for long. Our virgin was called in and demented by
Iggy on the ice. He wasn’t good at math, wouldn’t help his jack off, is single
but not jewish, and likes to ski the backwoods. Autowankers were called in –
Coonass and CSAR, and we sang “auto-wankers” to the tune of meet the hashers.
Back sliders were called in waves, the first – and solo – backslider going to
Little Sister Fister who won the designation of “Person who moved closer to
Boston and then hashed less!” Other long term backsliders included Ignorance is
Piss, Hoover, Cums alone and Pat My Fly. There was an honorary down-down to
anyone who had gone above and beyond and hashed at hot mess, yankee and cpa,
taste the rainblow, moon agm, and gap. Our livers failed us on the ice, and I
was quiet numb by the time I got off the ice. There was a co-worker down-down
(Just Theresa, Just Carly, Better late than pregnant and I), and luckily we
were told we were stupid instead of being asked about how we used to work in
Chicago. The ice at this point was quickly turning into chunks of ice in mud.
Before the ice disappeared completely, two justs were called in – Just Marni
and Just The French Guy. Firstly, Just marney has been to 6 hashes and brought
a total of 9 virgings! 69! Yeah! A few names were nominated, but who cares.
From now on, Just Marney will be known as “The Heyman Manouver.” May her liver
forgive her. The French Guy – who we learned is a wicked smaht kid and went to
Hahvahd, had taken his time to explore the American female, so Good Will
Cunting was suggested, but quickly thrown out. For reasons mainly to do with
his accent, and that he is French, he will now be known, wherever he hashes
around the world, as “Wicked Pisour” he’s French, so his liver was born ready.
Circle did continue, miraculously, after that, and Friar showed up as the real
DFL. Circle finally ended when all of the ice had melted and there was only

BBQ: There was a lot of meat, and some very spicy, but delicious,
kebabs (thanks to our kitchen b*tches Hipstectomy, Brokeback Baby, CSAR an Hair
club), and more beer was drunk. The neighbors, sensing our good mood, started a
dance party on the second floor that we grooved to outside. 

On After/Pub crawl:

The first stop on the pub crawl was back to where it all
began – Dot ave tavern. There was beer, pitchers full of it appearing magically
in Douche’s hands, and then it was poured into mugs, and then into mouths.
After only a few minutes Coonass and Blubber walked around counting and we knew
that RAGE was about to happen. Jagerbombs had been purchased for the entire
pack. That happened. We kept drinking. Sometime later, my sense of time and
memory are getting fuzzy, we left. We walked down the street to Tom English’s,
but I remember feel a definite sense of confusion about the walk. Why were we
leaving and where are we going? The beer improved at Tom English – Harpoon IPA –
but it kept flowing and was still free. Always trying to one up Blubber, Eagle
purchased a round of Sambuka for unsuspecting hashers – myself included – and that’s
pretty much were my memory ends. Other things did happen. I messed up pronoun
for Anal and had to have another shot. More beer. More shots. The next thing I remember
is walking home.

On – free beer not free shots – On


Anoucments: Trail Wednesday at Great Scott (Harvard Ave stop
on the B-Line)


Montreal Red Dress Run Invasion: 9/20-22:
FB Event:

Pearl Necklace:
9/27: Cummbridge Communitry College H3 Beer Mile
9/28: Pearl Necklace, 13 miles, 13 beers!
9/29: 2nd Anal Pearl Necklace Fatboy By Wiki

AGM: October 19th (More free beer!)

[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Taste the Rainbow Hash

What: Taste the Rainbow
Where: Kelly’s Pub, Eastie
Hares: Blubber Fucker, Senor Cocksucker, Swedish Eagle
Bag Car: Cerified Poop Accuntant
Pack: Just Tall Blubber, Chris Brown Eye*, Bring Out the
Gimp, The Butler Hit It, Willy Wanka and the Backdoor Factory, Twat My Mom, Just
Lauran, Pigfucker, Vistor From Orlando, Schindler’s Fist, Placentos the Fresh
Maker**, I Licked Butts, Spunk in the Trunk, Clit Notes, Wikipedophilia, maybe

Start: Was at a nice bar, for Eastie. We didn’t look all
that out of place, and they had a decent enough beer selection. The hares were
a bit late in leaving, but after a quick circle to explain our marks to the
visitors, we were on our way.

Yellow trail:
After being a bit confused at the start, we found trail
running towards the airport and eventually hit a CB something over a pedestrian
bridge over the entrance to the Calahan tunnel. The bridge kinda shook under
the weight of the running pack, perhaps someone should tell Massport? Piggy
left trail to have a drink with a random coworker he saw at a bar, and we ran
to a song check. Piggy rejoined us, and sang a wonderful song that I forgot.
Trail then ran up hill (but pack went scouting downhill) and I think I was
catcalled for wearing a kilt. Turning up another hill, and passing behind a
school, we found the first shot check.

Yellow shots: There were a half dozen or so stashed Gatorade
bottles with a yellow liquid in them that tasted like something, however, there
were also a few abandoned alcohol bottles not from that hash that we did not

Pink trail:
Running down from the shot check, trail turned through a
back alley where we found a check that Piggy had very thoroughly scouted and
true trail was marked to a playground with mosaic benches, and pink shots.
Pink shots: After drinking liberally of the yellow shots,
some of pack began to come to their senses and drank more of the pink stuff,
others, feeling weak and unhashman like, fainned particication and wandered off
to find trail
White trail:
The unhashman like scouts found marks that lead to a group
hug, and without waiting for the drinkers, ran on. Luckily they ran out a
two-and-nothing into a housing complex of sorts when true trail went straight
up hill, silly hashers! Trail turned and ran around a school to white shots.

White shots: Tasted very sweet and very strong. Pack
gathered and immidetiely there was a Turkey/Eagled. Eagle trail went through a
fence, down a steep hill, over another fence, then hit a CB6, before running
down a beach and rejoining the turkeys near the first beer check.

Beer check:
Was on the beach behind the hill where there was a Pearl
Necklace BC a few years ago. Apparently, the walkers had almost snared the
hares, since the true distance was just under a mile. Champagne (of beers) was
provided and we waited for everyone to catch up. Once it became dark and
everyone nearly passed out from the stench of the East Boston Channel, we left.

Purple trail:
From the beer check, we ran through Eastie and an n-way intersection
( maybe 7 or 8 roads meeting, seriously, who planned this city!!), and ran into
bag car buying KEYSTONE LIGHT for
circle. Piggy told her that he would gladly buy us good beer, but she drove off
saying something about “It’s the beer you deserve” and “I need to get food.”
Trail continued on down whatever main street there is in Eastie that runs parallel
to the Blueline, and a few wankers followed a YBF into some random rundown T
stop. Trail zigged off the main road for a bit, and hit a shot check in a park.

Purple shots: By this point the shots were beginning to
catch up with the pack and we discussed the widely varying quality of them.
Some were quiet nice, others were undrinkable cough-syrup. The purple ones were
undrinkable cough-syrup.

Next Color Trail: Stayed off the main drag, ran past some
churches and behind a burger king to the next shot check. I didn’t note the
color, but pack stayed for a while to wait for everyone from the purple check,
and to drink whatever horrible liquid was on offer.

Iggy’s Trail:
Trail returned to whatever that main road was, and ran
pretty much straight along it until we got to a song check in front Iggy’s
house. We sang long and loud and jumped up and down. No one came out. Butler
investigated and found the door locked, but open, with no one home? We
continued. Trail continued down the road until we crossed over the Blueline at
Orrient Heights and ran along the beach to the long await BN in the sand. At
the end of the beach, were hares, pizza, and beer. ON IN.


Before circle, or even beer, could happen, we had to wait
for the mall-cop at the school/rec center/park/whatever to leave. He did, and
we drank. Pizza was there so we ate before circle. Twat RA’d, but when we
started singing to the hares, we formed a shape that was definetly –not- a
circle. Ameba maybe? Who knows, however, it was formed around a very
unfortunant ikea lamp that Piggy found on trail. There were no virgins, so we
moved right onto FRB/FBI/DFLs who were people that I don’t remember? Gimp, I
think, for the first time ever? Everyone’s a virgin at some point…Spunk was
DFL? Visitors were called in and both sang great songs. Piggy and Fisty were
called in for being naked. Chris Bown Eye was all of a sudden naked (or close
to) as well, and started humping the lamp. Maybe he was pole dancing on it, but
either way it could not bear the same and honorably killed itself by falling
apart under his gyrations. After a brief discussion, it was decided that Chris
Brown Eye, while a great Moon name, would have to be supplanted. Chris Brown
Eye will now be known as Lovea Lamp. We then sang him “Old McDonalds” to wash
away his shame with beer. Things were getting cray, beer was running out, so we
put our beers down and swang low.

On – I feel bad for that lamp – On

FREE BEER THIS WEEKEND – Hash BBQ, see the website/FB event
for details.
Trail next week: Great Scott, Harvard Ave Stop on the B
Line, Hares Wiki and Jack
Register for Pearl Necklace:

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Boston Moon AGM Part 1

What: Boston Moon AGM part 1

Who: Your new BMH3 GMs, Invidick and Just Tasty
Bag car: The Crying Gay
Where: Tavern at the end of the world

Pack: A visitor from DC with 3 virgins, another virgin, Just
Tall Bubbler, Just Alex*, Mangia My Vagania, Harlot Globe Fondler, Vagatarian,
Blubber Fucker, The Guy Who Had Balls Drawn On His Head (note, not his name,
but I forget it), Bring out the Gimp, Twat My Mom, Yankee Pay $5 More, Spunk in
the Trunk, Sweedish Eagle, Senior Cocksucker, Little Black Cock in my Pocket,
Salami, other people I am forgetting.

Started behind the TatEotW, and ran over some abandon train
tracks. Gimp yelled “train!” and I looked. He mocked me. Trail then crossed
over actual train tracks and we scrambled up the slope to Sullivan station. The
FRBs and pack were separated by a “traffic light check” that even I didn’t want
to cross, and then ran straight past a building under construction to a
baseball field which we crossed following definitely maybe marks that definitely
disappeared. True trail was quickly found and lead to a Jello Shot check. The
jello shots were not really jello as such, but rather goey blobs of alcohol. The
pack devoured them. Trail from there ran on past some warehouses to more
abandoned train tracks. The scribe zenned, but was on trail when Sweedish
randomly jumped over a 10 foot fence and took off straight ahead. I just kept
running. Shortly there was a BN followed directly by a Song check (we had been
told in circle that pack must wait at
a song check for everyone to catch up; I know f*ck rules) but we waited. The
check was also right in front of an idling truck of electrians who seemed amused
by our presence, and our song. Eventually everyone showed up and we ran to the
Beer Check.

Beer Check 1: There was beer. About 10 minutes into the
check, we saw a beautiful lady running in full stride down the trail towards
the beer. Seeing quickly that it was ALL the cocks, the male hashers lined up
to show her what she loves seeing best. Eventually beer was drunk and hares
were gay. Pack followed.

Trail 2:
I ran down the road towards a park with a trash bag with the
empties, and pack followed for no apparent reason. Trail was marked going the
other way on the other side of the street. Turning around and catching up with
pack we hit the Turkey/Eagle split, and since there were promises of shiggy and
“trail head check” on the Eagle, the kool kidz took the Eagle. The trail heads
check was lame; we ran past a house addressed 420, but the shiggy was fun and
steep. Trail caught up with the turkeys on the downhill, at a song check, and
we were happily waiting and singing about jesus when “Kumbiya” was called and
we scattered down the hill. Trail meandered through Charlestown and we finally
came upon the “HSC” human sit-a-pede check (you remember these from your
leadership challenge courses in highschool – everyone sits in a circle with the
weight evenly distributed) however there was an very disappointing male/female
ratio for this challenge, so we sat, shifted, smiled, sang, and left, running
towards the beer. Bag car was spotted not too far away and we humped it with
our beer and bags into Boston’s Secret Dog Park for circle.

After pack arrived, the beer was deposited and the hares…disappeared?
Really. They did. So we started circle with virgins and moon virgins. It was a
bit of a cluster fuck, but basically all the virgins got on their knees and
since there were more virgins than sponsors, moon virgins were called in as
proxy sponsors. Or so the plan went. Harlot ended up sponsoring two virgins –
not sure how – spunk sponsor another, and the rest acted out their favourite
cartoon characters having sex. They were definitely not acceptable, but we took
them anyway! Finally the hares showed up smelling like, well, Butler, and we
sang “Drink a little bit…” They might have sung us a song, maybe not? Circle
was beginning to get drunk. I was called in and did a shotgun – not quiet sure
why. And I think at one point, everyone had been called in. Mexicans were
called in. Kilted hashers. GMs, former GMs, future GMs, RAs, pretty much
everyone we could think of. By the time we were really drunk, Just Alex was
called in circle to be named. Not sure why. Not sure how he was named “Chris
Brown Eye” but he was. In a conversation after, the hash decided it was because
either he headbutted a hooker, or because he tounge-raped someone? Who knows. He
will now be known as Chris Brown Eye at all Moon hashes. Other kennels can (and
wil, stay tuned!) name him. At this point there were 6 beers left so we called
in 6 random people to do shotguns, before trying to start religion. We got out
the first verse of “I met a whore in a park one day…” and then circle ended.

On After was the original Pub 99.

Who knows what happened there.

On – there’s still another half to moon AGM next month – On


FREE BEER THIS WEEKEND: BH3 summer BBQ; trail starting at
Noon HST from Dot Ave Tavern, there will be a trail, a BBQ, and a pub crawl. Details are on the calander.
Wed 8/28: Boston Hash at Great Scott in Alston, hared by
Wiki and Necrophiliak Jack.
Sat 9/27: Pearl necklace!!

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

The “Not a Repeat of Last Years” Trail

What: The “Not a Repeat of Last Years” Trail
Where: Dot. Ave Tavern
Hares: Yankee Pay $5 More, Certified Poop Accuntant
Who: Just Tim, Just Laura(n), Just Carly, Just
Who-Brought-A-Virgin, The Virgin, Bring Out the Gimp, The Butler Hit It,
Blowbot, Pappy Van Tinkle Doucheland, Mangia My Vagiana, Wikipedophila, Blubber
Fucker, random people form the bar.

Start: The pack arrive between well before HST and well
after HST and the hares didn’t really seem to care. At one point, after not
seeing them for a while, we assumed they were gay. They were not. They had been
out getting cancer. They told us “We aren’t gay, have another beer!” So we had
another beer. Eventually…

Trail (the part with no check backs):
 Circle was held at
the first check, and the virgin was introduced. Note, some guy in my office
just yelled “There has to be cocaine in this somewhere! They wouldn’t have
mailed it here without!” Anyway…we left running after the hares through
Dorchester. There was a tit check and a false down an industrial park with
trail running towards a Dunkins. After a song check, a check back 8 (thanks
Doucheland), pack ran through traffic and around a park to a very familiar
looking beer check. 

Beer check: Mostly we drank Bud Light and wondered where Fixed
Queer is. Was he a secret co-hare? No? Okay. More beer. No conversations were
of note to write down, unfortunately.

Trail (the park with all the check backs):
Starting from the beer check there was a check back 8, and
trail ran back towards some major road. At another tit check (what pack would
have done without mangia, I do not know), we ran the wrong direction twice,
before finding trail through a parking lot and turning down some other random
street. After another check back (6), trail rain under around and through the
bowls of the JFK/UMass station and back across some road. Again, there was a
check back, and Mangia freed us to find trail. After hitting a check back 13
and a check near a park, we turned to a back alley to the whiskey check.

Frisky Whiskey Check:
The point of this check was to drink an entire bottle of
something that might bear some resemblance to whiskey, but even that it doubt
full. Basically everyone got very drunk very fast, including Doucheland, Just
Tim, Just Tall Blubber, and Just Luara (with the quote “I’m going to
deep-throat this bottle”). Just Tall Blubber then found some “sealed brown
boxes” hoping for cocaine (see above) but finding instead neon-yellow safety
ninja belts, we donned these and finished the whiskey. After a brief bit of
trail heads, pack left.

Trail (seriously, everyone else got lost):
Trail rain straight to what was an extremely obvious Check
back 20, and I turned and ran back towards Dot Tavern – which was in sight of
the corner. Apparently, pack followed Gimp and Blubber (bad idea!!!), ran out
the Check Back 20, then zenned around, and eventually came back about 10
minutes later. 


No one was in any rush to circle up after that trail, and
pizza was delivered shortly after the pitchers. Drinking and eating ensued, and
the locals never really quiet understood what we were about. For no apparent
reason, I ignored them, though it is my belief that they were key players in
what made this trail so good.

Eventually Mangia started circle while Blubber was … away …
before he took it over. We sang to the hares, and told them to use more flour
and chalk. FRBs, (Wiki!!), FBI (Just Lauren), DFL (Mangia) and various others
were called in. The virgin was called in and CPA demented him, I think we took
him? Who knows, I through beer on him. The floor was opened to accusations;
kilted hashers, bald hashers, rasicsts, same shirts; we had a lot of beer to
drink through. People who had not been accused were called in, people who had
not made accusations were called in. Drinking happened. Eventually a local put
on the entire Mettalica Discography and we blessedly ended circle.

More drinking happened.

On – where’s fixed queer? – On


Trail next week in Eastie; check the calander.

GAP this weekend, and E4B on Sunday in Arlington

Sign up for Pearl Necklace on September 28th:

Hash BBQ (Free beer!!!) Next weekend (August 24th) will –not-* be this exact
same trail but with different food and free beer. 
*This is a lie.

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

2nd An*l Hot Mess Trail

Hares: Harlot Globe Fondler, Anal Disco
Hare Erasmus: Anal Beeds
Bag Car: Tragic Carpet Ride and ALL the Cocks
RA: Blubber Fucker
Pack: A lot.
Visitors: Wang Chunks, Just from Burma, Ass Gagger
Virgins: One was good at math, one was Jewish, most were single
Start: Bean Town Pub

There was a vigorous debate while we were waiting about the
price scale of the beers; $5 would get a Bud Light or a Highlife, and $6 would
get you any number of actual good beers. One side wanted beer; the other side
wanted good beer. Both got beer, so everyone was happy. After annoying all of
the wait staff, and most of the customers, we eventually left to circle up in
the Common.

Attracted any number of passers by, tourists, and general
curiousity at the group of people gathered in trash bags and white tea-shirts,
and we went over marks that were actually seen on trail! (Except for the CB?)
The virgins were introduced, and our RA admitted that he had been pre-gaming so
we learned their names,  their
relationship status, and their religion. After introducing them to the pack and
the marks, we took off.

Trail: Part Rational break up:
The first part of trail took us out of the common and down
through down town crossing before cutting through the maze of streets that is
Boston to a shot check near the site of the Boston Massacre. We drank tequila in
honor of all the Mexicans who died for our independence. Also, there was a tit
check. Trail continued through Phanuel hall with a song check that competed
with some street performers and then through (actually under it) the building
itself, and out into the greenway. Did trail go through the fountains? Maybe.
Probably. The hash did. We like to get wet. Note: This scribe ran through
fountains with a kilt for the first time…it was a suprising? Refreshing?
Hashman like? Experince. Trail then went to the North End, where it would say
for the rest of the hash. Winding past tourests, and maybe some locals, we
enventually found beer on this hopeless trail at a play ground.

Beer Glitter Check #1:
Was there beer? Yes, but no one cared. The beer was dosed in
glitter and so too, soon, was the pack. The problem with Bouys holding shakers
of glitter over his head and shaking them on people is that those long arms are
pretty high up there, and there is a significant dispersal pattern. Pretty much
everyone was glitter bombed. Our esteemed visitors showed up late, having not
run at all (I’m told this is called “Wanging” a trail). We left. Looking for
more beer.

Trail: Dirty mess:
The second part of trail wound around the north end more. I
honestly had no idea there was enough real-estitate to in the North End support
more than just hashing through. If I recall there were two shot checks? Maybe
one. No one cares. There was a song check on the tourist street with all the
restaruants and we song days of the week. It’s mostly a clean song, and we
mostly didn’t offend anyone. Trail turned towards the water and our beer senses
were tingled.

Beer Slip and slide check:
No one wants to be a hot mess for too long, so the hares
supplied us with a gaint slip and slide on which to wash off our shame. Or
maybe we were washing on the shame. Either way, we slipped and we slid, and we
drank. We might have even danced.

Trail Part Straight on to beer:
The hares left the slip and slide with one piece of chalk
between them. Luckily, they knew how to draw true trails, and we knew where we
were going. Straight out of the north end, back across the greenway, and to,
wait for it…the HONG KONG!!

Pack eventually all filtered in, with a good amount of sweat
test failures, autowankers, and general wankers picked up on trail, and up the
second floor of the HK where we were treated to the dietary staples of the hot
mess: Ramen and PBR (actually coors light). No Ben and Jerries? Fuck no! This
is the hash!
Circle was actually quite short. We called in the FRBs –
Sweedish and Snapp Off, and the DFLs, Pat My Fly and Yankee Pay $5, and made
them drink for either r*nning too fast or not r*nning at all. We called in the
virgins – 4 of them! 3 of them are (were?) single, and gnome found on trail. Of
the virgins one would  get off on a bus
of nuns, another  help their uncle jack
off a horse, the third humped Anal Beads and  the fourth actually
knew what the square root of 69 was! This was astonishing, so we quickly
had to get them drunk. We did. They are justs now, I think. We then called in
the vistors – Wang Chunks, Ass Gagger and Just from Burma, sang them the wrong
song, then the right song, then sang about great big swinging tits! Newly
kilted hashers were called in, and it was accussed that they might be skirts,
not manly kilts. My laywer requires that I apologize to everyone who accused
me, as they were shown the error of their ways. We drank. It was fun.

We swang low because no body was paying attention anyway.
On – why is my keyboard covered in glitter – on

Pink Taco on Monday
Yankee and CPA on Wednesday
Ball Busters before FREE BEER at the Cookout (August 24th)
PooF this weekend (not actually announced)