A Famine/Shart Production
Furry Hash!
Prelube: Seven’s Ale House
Hares: Wiki and Udder
Bag Car: Show me the Penis
Pack: Luva Lamp, Blondie, Gaywol, Butler, Just Bryan, Queer and Foaming, Disco, Po-Po Peep show, Fellowship of the cock ring, Just Trevor, Jello, Sex the final frontier, Shart of Darkness, Blubber, Whack a Hole, Bloody, Goat throat, Just Megan, No Man on the Moon, Mud Slut, Friar, Dribbles, Necropheliac Jack , Coonass, Yankee.
Late comers: CEP, Cum Ear, Easy, Black Cock Down
I find it ironic that the furry hash happened on the warmest day of January to date. For the one hash where the theme allowed for as many layers as our hearts desired mother nature decided to make it so warm most people’s furry costumes seemed a cruel and newly sweaty joke. Did the RA’s forget to offer sexual favors to the proper cosmic entity this week?
We gathered in Seven’s on Charles Street to prepare for trail with whatever combination of food, hangover cures, or drinks we deemed prudent. Sometime during my first beer I realized nobody had asked me for money yet and some strange responsible part of me volunteered to begin collecting hash cash. Apparently my technique of shoving the ever-growing wad of cash down my shirt inspired much confidence because hashers seemed remarkably eager to give me money. As our furry menagerie grew and patrons of the bar gave us increasingly odd looks our esteemed hares (a bunny and a cow) departed in a cloud of orange chalk. An appropriate amount of time later 6.9 minutes and 69 seconds were called and we trooped out into the balmy weather to bag car. Chalk Talk proceeded in a disappointingly clean ally. We were informed trail would be in chalk but there was none to demonstrate the marks so a few of them were depicted in chalk. Bloody jumped up and down with most of his usual abandon and Blubber once again proved that RA’s need not be sober. Some brilliant soul suggested hashers get on with it and everyone ran off. That is everyone except for me and the other walkers.
Walker's trail: Yes wankers, I am a poor injured hasher so at least my portions of this trash will teach you about the wonders of walkers trail. As everyone else ran off I proceeded to pull a bottle of orange juice and a flask of vodka from my bag, drink a swig of orange juice, and replace the displaced liquid with vodka. Once my fellow walkers and I had shared in my bounty we investigated the map the bunny and the cow had kindly provided. We set off through Beacon Hill and quickly came upon some lost Flordinian’s who asked our motley group for directions to the science museum. We declared we were going in that direction so they should just come with us. Then we offered them nourishment from my orange juice bottle and they held up a vitamin water bottle and informed us they already had a vodka’d beverage! We all decided we would get on famously and proceeded to continue with them in tow. Along our scenic walk next to Storrow drive we learned they spent the night before at the glass slipper, were surprised by the level of nudity Boston strippers get to, and liked Hub Pub. Before our paths diverged we congratulated them on getting drunk enough at a bar on the freedom trail that they lost the trail and sent them off to the science museum properly inebriated. My fellow walkers and I found a group hug check and then the beer check. After I fell on the ice and added a bruised knee to my collection of mystery bruises (ok perhaps this one was not mysterious) we decided to warn the runners about the ice when they arrived. As runners trickled in we drank beer, ate orange food, took a photo to document the furry, and eventually the runners departed. I added a beer to my mostly empty orange juice/vodka concoction and it became an extra strong beermossa. Yankee joined the walkers for our second leg and we walked through the north end passing around the boozy drink. As we approached the location of the second beer check over-achieving runners began passing us and didn’t even stop when I offered them booze! The second beer check was in a playground, which seemed an odd location for our beer. We enjoyed the swings but were disappointed by the lack of good peeing locations. Po-po Peepshow made do with a small clump of bushes. Very hashwoman like behavior. When runners departed the drunken walker brigade ambled on. I would normally say that I have an unfailing ability to get myself to the Rover and the Wrong Kong but apparently my sense of direction was somewhat clouded by drink because we ambled through the north end and towards downtown with somewhat less than lazer-like focus. At one point we spied part of pack and Mud-slut was enticed to join our merry band. As we commiserated about injuries and drank away our sorrows we approached the Wild Rover just as pack arrived and we all climbed the stairs to our furry animal den together. - Famine
Runner's trail: Trail got off to a good start by taking us through as many crowded areas as possible. We amused and delighted the people in the Public Garden (I'm sure) before crossing over to the Common, where we came upon a shot check -- Haterate covered in gunky orange flour. In fact, the shot check tasted mainly of flour, so this may have been an intentional move by the hares.
We crossed up toward the State House and into Beacon Hill to give John Kerry a chance to admire us in all our furry splendor. After a few checks, we discovered yet another shot check, making the shot check to running ratio very good for this trail. The shot check was once again covered in moist orange flour, but being hashers, we were not dissuaded.
We followed trail toward (and through) North Station, where we found a song check on the other side. Some passersby took pictures (though we don't appear to be Reddit famous yet - damn, maybe next time) and one particularly persistent man filmed us despite Goat and Just Bryan standing directly in front of his camera to block him, finally calling us "fucking freaks" as we ran off. Boston is full of winners, indeed.
We quickly came upon the beer check, located at some park in the North End. We imbibed beverages and took a photo on the stairs (where did that photo end up, anyway?) before heading off.
I don't remember much of the next leg of trail. In fact, I had forgotten there were two beer checks until I read Famine's account, so that shows what a reliable narrator I am. There was indeed a beer check at a playground, although I couldn't tell you where said playground was if you paid me. There was definitely a hash sitapede at some point, which I remember because it worked unusually well. There was at least one more shot check somewhere; we were taken through Faneuil; finally, we ended up at the door of Wild Rover. - Shart
Circle: I was so drunk for circle that I have very fuzzy memories so I hope one of the real scribes takes over here. What I do remember is watching the end of one football game, being called into circle for performing jobs other hashers had failed to receive tags for at AGM, drinking much beer, struggling with the hand motions during swing low, and watching the beginning of the Patriots game! - Famine
Indeed, circle was short (but sweet?). Upon arriving at the bar, someone was told that the $2 beer we had been promised was not available upstairs. We first coped by buying nice beers (Lagunitas at circle? Say what now?) but some ingenious thinker realized we could just go downstairs, buy $2 beers and carry them up. This did not endear us to the bartender upstairs, but did provide us with a hearty stock of an alcoholic-ish beverage.
Beyond that, there's not much to remember about circle because it was extremely short. Blubber called in people whose tags he still had from AGM. There was another accusation or two. And then circle was wrapped up with announcements, and we actually finished circle *before* the food was ready, an unusual happenstance for any hash. We made do with watching football until the trays of chicken, quesadillas, pizza, and whatever else were set up, and then continued to engage in the American pastime of getting fat while watching grown men grapple with each other. - Shart
The day after: I realized I really was incredibly drunk the night before because it became apparent that even though I do not remember buying a drink once hash cash ran out I left my credit card at the bar. When I went to the Rover to retrieve it the only slightly judgmental bartender informed me she also had Just Bryan’s card. - Famine
On-Drunken walking adventures-My liver hopes I can run again soon-Not enough yiffing-On
-Orgasm Famine & Shart of Darkness
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