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.
Start:
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
checks):
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.
Circle:
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
mud.
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
-Wikipedophilia
Anoucments: Trail Wednesday at Great Scott (Harvard Ave stop
on the B-Line)
WE NEED HARES FOR 9/4
Montreal Red Dress Run Invasion: 9/20-22:
FB Event:
https://www.facebook.com/
Pearl Necklace:
9/27: Cummbridge Communitry College H3 Beer Mile
9/28: Pearl Necklace, 13 miles, 13 beers!
Rego:
https://store.hashspace.com/
9/29: 2nd Anal Pearl Necklace Fatboy By Wiki
AGM: October 19th (More free beer!)
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
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.
Start:
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
checks):
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.
Circle:
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
mud.
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
-Wikipedophilia
Anoucments: Trail Wednesday at Great Scott (Harvard Ave stop
on the B-Line)
WE NEED HARES FOR 9/4
Montreal Red Dress Run Invasion: 9/20-22:
FB Event:
https://www.facebook.com/
Pearl Necklace:
9/27: Cummbridge Communitry College H3 Beer Mile
9/28: Pearl Necklace, 13 miles, 13 beers!
Rego:
https://store.hashspace.com/
9/29: 2nd Anal Pearl Necklace Fatboy By Wiki
AGM: October 19th (More free beer!)
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
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