12/21 - the Holiday "I Don't Believe in Hangovers" trail

What: The Holiday "I don't believe in hangovers" trail

Hares: Orgasm Famine and C*m Test Dummy

Bag car: 5-ring Cervix

Pack: +2 Coonass, Fellowship of the Cock Ring, Gone GAYWOL, Twat My Mom, Hoover McSuck 'n' Fuck, Friar Fuck, Pop Cum Ear I'm Ineffective, Goat Throat, Just Simone*, The Buttler Hit It, Yellow Dick Gnome, Black Cock Down, Easy as 123, Bum Fucking Vagibond, Necrophiliac Jack, No Man on the Moon, Mudslut, 5 Inch Penalty, Yankee Pay $5 More, Po-po Peep Show, Bloody Slip Inside, Pat My Fly, Shart of Darkness, Willy Wonka and the Back Door Factory, Just Famine's Brother

Pack congregated at the Kinsale, where snow fell gently around us as we disturbed passerby and, ultimately, the Centre Plaza security. Bloody did some sort of crowd-hyping thing, we introduced ourselves and said the thing we were most excited to give for the holiday season, and we were informed that, instead of Turkey/Eagles, our hares would be laying Christmas/(C)Hanuk(k)ah checks "because Hanukkah is just a little bit longer."

Leg 1: A tale of a missing shot check

Trail took us through Government Center and down into Faneuil, where we were treated to a viewing of the Christmas trees. We found our way through Faneuil with only minimal confusion and crossed the street, where we found Shots Near. Huzzah! We scoured the rose garden (okay, looked around in a manner that was slightly less lazy than usual) but didn't see anything. Hmm... maybe the shots were further down the sidewalk? 

We continued and found more marks... at some point, it seemed apparent that we had missed the shots, but we were too lazy to go back and try to find them. It later turned out that: 1) no one ended up finding the shots, and 2) the shot check was Manischewitz mixed with 151, which made me not sad about missing that shot check at all.

We continued through the North End and followed a C/H check into the West End. At some point in there, we found a couple truly horrifying dick checks that called into question whether our hares had actually seen a dick before (protip: if it looks like a clover, you're doing it wrong). Finally, we located the first beer check on the Esplanade by the tennis courts. We wanted to drink Magic Hat but settled for Pabst. After a somewhat brief and chilly-ish interlude, we were off.

Leg 2: We actually found the "sport drink check"

Trail continued down the Esplanade past a cute little Santa in a boat rigged with Christmas lights and then crossed back over toward the Public Garden. We started heading toward Fenway before cutting down to Commonwealth and heading back toward the Public Garden. To no one's surprise, Just Famine's Brother led the way - what a family of r*cists.

There was an exceptionally scenic Hash Sitapede across from the entrance to the Public Garden, where there were Christmas lights aplenty. We then continued into the Garden, where everyone but Buttler managed to find a "S.C." (which, of course, stands for Sport drink Check - we had done quite a bit of running at that point and our electrolytes required refreshing). After our festive and refreshing beverages (including a surprisingly delicious Blue Drank), we exited the Garden to find that Buttler had been busy scouting trail for us while we imbibed. 

Trail headed toward, uh, the Leather District or something? Chinatown? Who knows. Anyway, true trail led us through a mall, and we quickly happened upon the hares bringing bags into the on-in at Sweetwater.

On-in: Hashers look better in the dark

We had the basement at Sweetwater to ourselves, except for the confused Muggles trying to use the restroom. The basement was very warm and very dark -- the lights weren't working and, although the bar offered to move us upstairs where it was more well-lit, we quickly realized that dimming the lights would work in our favor.

Our esteemed and experienced RA led us in circle. We had very few complaints about trail other than the missing shot check; we also thanked the RA for conjuring such festive weather for us. We had our visiting hare sing for us as much as possible, especially given that we were struggling to think of songs of our own. Those who were still hung over from Hashmas were called into circle (a group that did not include YHS, since I don't believe in hangovers, as the trail name would suggest).

Finally, it was brought to our attention that someone among us was returning to Germany/the Netherlands/wherever she actually lives. We brought Just Simone into circle and struggled to think of anything bad to say about her. Krusty had suggested naming her Mean Ass Bitch due to her sour personality; Bloody suggested Squeaky Cream and then promptly forgot his own suggested. Since she's working toward her PhD, someone suggested "Fucks for 'A's," which was quickly amended to "Fucks for 'C's." Competition was stiff (hee hee) between Squeaky Cream and Fucks for Cs, but the latter won out (that means the second one, you illiterate wankers). So Just Simone will return to Europe forevermore known as Fucks for Cs.

The food had arrived and was getting cold, so we quickly wrapped up circle and stuffed our faces with things that were fried and slathered in cheese.

Verdict: Officially Trail of the Year so far for the '14-'15 awards season!

Announcements:

12/28 - Swedish Eagle and Stuff That Reich Now hare some sort of Boston trail which will no doubt be excellent

1/17 - Boston invades Free Beer - talk to Twat if you're interested in joining

2/14 - a romantic Moon Away weekend

2/15 - the next day for which hares are needed for Boston - plan ahead, wankers

On-yes I sometimes actually write hash trashes-on,

Shart