Hash Trash
Trail: The Mary Queen of Scotts Trail
Hare: Yankee
Prelube and surprise(!) On-in: Rice Post
Bag Car/pizza and beer unicorn: Wiki
Pack: Foreskin abortion, Dry hose, Sex the final frontier, Goat Throat, Orgasm Famine, Butler, Gator
BH3 I am disappointed in you. This trail happened in balmy 69 degree weather with nary a cloud in the sky, on a football-less Sunday the night after a wine party. Why pack consisted of such a pathetic handful of us continues to confound me. All I can say is everyone who didn’t make it to Dorchester are a bunch of wankers.
The somewhat snow infested red line did not make too many troublesome noises as I rode our illustrious transport system to JFK. When I got to Rice Post, our distinguished destination for the day, I was thankful to Yankee for arrows to help me overcome my hesitation to enter an establishment where the doors are locked and a buzzer must be rung to get in. Since I was running fashionably late I was greeted by pack who informed me that I had brought up our collective vagina quotient by 1069 percent. Yes this hash trash is written by the sole, lonely, and sober harriette for the day.
We stuck around for a bit, befriended the bartender, and most everybody drank enough beer to fend off the cold, slush, and snow we knew lurked in our future. Yankee departed with a bag of yellow flour at some point and we bid our friendly bartender farewell not too long after. Bags were deposited in Wiki’s car and Goat led a quick abbreviated chalk talk where we introduced ourselves, but due to a lack of flour pack was left to figure out marks on their own. Upon our departure we lost trail almost immediately due to the hazards of yellow chalk. The list of things that can be mistaken for yellow marks in the snow includes yellow sidewalk crossings, dog pee, and human pee. This issue remained salient throughout trail. Pack ran through the snow at speeds sure to instill fear in the heart of any hare. A few blocks in experienced hashers began to notice some similarities between this trail and past Yankee trails, which meant we knew to look forward to a quick off-road trek that, at this time of year meant snow up to our knees. Not long after that we found our esteemed hare standing next to a familiar looking park, clutching a bottle of whisky. He informed us this was the beer check but the beer had yet to arrive so we should drink the whiskey he happened to have on him to fend off hare snares. After everyone else had time for a few sips, a pink unicorn appeared with a box of Sam Adams Cold Snap. I thought this was a remarkably fitting and decent beer for the setting, but Butler seemed rather disgusted with the pink unicorn’s offering. Despite the grumbling pack drank, the hare departed in a flurry of yellow flour, Wiki gathered the bottles, and we ran on. Roughly two blocks later we found the hare yet again and he informed us that he was giving us the bottle of whisky to finish, he was low on flour, and the on-in was Rice-Post. (surprise!) We passed around the bottle for a decent amount of time, men took the opportunity to decorate the snow with more yellow marks, and around the time everyone started getting cold we ran off. It was at this point we slowly realized that Yankee had not been lying (as hares are wont to do) when he said he was out of flour and on-in was Rice-Post. We searched in vain for marks, came up empty handed, and followed our pink unicorn into a pizza place where we waited for our pizza in warmth and passed around bottles of Cold Snap craftily hidden in glove cozies. We were about as good at hiding our beer as you would expect drunken hashers hiding out from the cold in a pizza place in Dorchester to be. When the laughing pizza proprietors handed over the goods we trudged the few blocks back to Rice Post, left what remained of the whisky in the snow bank outside, (did anyone pick that up on the way out or should we return for it in spring?) and joyously returned to our bartender friend.
After we produced beer we sang Yankee into circle, commented on our short, drunken, yellow trail and Yankee led us in a rousing round of friggen in the riggen. Goat RA’ed because apparently he and Krusty rub off on each other? There were some accusations. Even though I was sober I don’t remember what they were, but I do know that Dry Hose and Sex the Final frontier ended up in circle for various offenses and were instructed to stand ass to ass, reach one hand through their legs, clasp hands and perform their down downs in this position. It took them 2 down down songs before they got it right and I now have a whole new image in my brain for the term ass to ass. Circle wrapped up rather quickly with hash religion and we inhaled pizza, drank more beer, and hung out with the 1 or 2 locals who had braved the storm. When I departed Billy told me to keep the boys out of trouble and I expressed my doubts about my ability to do so but promised to try my best.
On- Why did you make me hash all alone?-On
-Orgasm Famine
Announcements:
2/13-3/15 Moon Away
2/15, 2:30HST - BH3 Herding Cats Hash, Prelube Baracuda Tavern
2/18: Marathon Plan meeting! Open to all Hashers! Come if you want to help with marathon (or if you want to drink and watch us plan for the BEST BH3 MARATHON MAIN EVENT of 2015)
Sometime in March: Ivy League Interhash in Boston
3/15: Last day to register for marathon to be garunteed an amazing giveaway!
4/18 Have you chosen your Disney Princess for Marathon?
Trail map: https://drive.google.com/open?id=0B4ZfMpHcJh9KaEJraTlSSE1sTnc&authuser=0
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