Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Yeaster Hash

Yeaster Hash!
Hare: Udder Whore
Pre-lube: Globe Bar and Café
Pack: Famine, CPA, Plus 2 Coonass, Goat Throat, 2 male virgins (Brian and Alexis?), PSA, Cum Ear, Bouy’s, Five Inch Penalty, Sex the Final Frontier, Pulp Friction (transplant), Po Po Peep Show, Fellowship of the C*ock Ring, Douche, Double Bag/Just Jeff, others I forgot?
Bag Car: Bend Over Mommy

The Jews of the hash and everyone else who got out of Easter early or made the excellent decision to choose hash family over all else gathered at Globe around 3pm this past Sunday. I was thrilled to discover that Globe has $5 brunch cocktails so your scribe (Orgasm Famine) was happy and tipsy when we trooped out in search of bag car. Thanks to parking being challenging near Copley the walk to bag car might have been longer than some of the legs of trail. Coonass stepped up to RA since the regular suspects were missing. He led us through introductions and explained to pack and the virgins that Udder had elected to subject us to a Cajun trail. We were warned to expect wine on trail, Easter candy, and of course every mark was a check. We ran off and quickly found a song check where we sang a short but enthusiastic version of Jesus can’t go hashing since, really, what other option did we have?

Leg 1- Running 2-3 miles within a square half-mile
From that point on I would describe the first leg of trail as a clusterfuck. I can’t count the number of times we got lost. The wind tunnels of Boston were cold so I tried to keep moving but that really just meant I continuously ran falses. I am pretty sure each mark was at least a block apart, regardless of the size of the block. For some reason our hare seemed to think hashers are willing to run really far in possibly the wrong direction over and over again in search of Cajun marks. Well don’t worry we proved her wrong. Many of us stopped checking all together and waited for a few racist ass-holes to call us onward. Even those of us who checked often gave up on a direction before finding the next mark. Pack slowly circled their way around Copley through many an ally way. At one point the chalk turned black which caused 5 inch to miss a tit check while scouting. I guess he really did not want to see tits because that got us lost for a solid 10 minutes. We eventually made it over to Comm Ave and it was around that time that the walkers either got really bored at the beer check or got worried we were never going to make it because the beer check location was revealed to some of pack and we started running straight there. We finally found beer, walkers, orange food, peeps, and the fearful hare under the overpass between Kenmore and Hynes. It was an Easter miracle that we didn’t lose either of the Virgins.

Leg 2 – Never out of sight of a mark
At the first beer check someone must have put the fear of the Easter Bunny in the hare because the second leg of trail had a mark every 5 feet. I did not hear a single hasher complain about that, which is probably good, because after the first leg of trail pack likely would have torn anyone who complained about having too many marks limb from limb. We ran towards Kenmore, found a GH just past it, and sang about interesting things to do at a ballpark in front of Fenway.  From there we wound towards and into the fens. We saw the hare standing with a bag of wine near a war memorial and we all paused to pass around the bago at the wine check as the hare scampered off. Someone made a joke about the blood of Christ having turned white as we drank the white wine. After finishing the wine and giving the hare more time than we probably should have we ran off after her through the fens. We wound out of the fens, back into the fens, and ended up at the big structure near the middle where the moon masquerade ball beer check was.

On-In - Where we hung out in buttsex forest for a time
Due to the wonderful prevalence of marks on the second leg of trail pack beat bag car to the on-in. We hung out mourning the lack of beer and slowly realizing we had arrived at on-in not just another beer check. When Bend Over Mommy arrived we grabbed, bags, beer, and pizza (Shout out to Goat for making pizza happen!) from the car and huddled as close to the back of the structure as possible to try to avoid being visible from the street. Someone declared pizza before circle just in case we ended up getting broken up by the cops. After eating a few pieces of pizza we sang in our shitty hare, she performed her down-down, and led us in a rousing round of el-camino. Five inch sang a verse I had never heard before which I wish I still remembered. Once Udder left circle Coonass requested a few comments on trail. He walked around circle and half-bullied people into sharing their thoughts, which included not enough marks, not enough black chalk, not enough time spent in ally 422, not enough Jesus, and not enough candy. Udder and CPA volunteered as dementresses to help our virgins lose their purity.  They both claimed to be good at math but one of them was way too good at it and instantly declared that the square root of 69 is 8.3. Seriously who just knows that? We informed him he was wrong and the square root is really ate something. I want to say both Virgins said they were backwoods but I might be making that up. When someone held a dollar bill up in front of Udders crotch and the virgins were asked what that was one of the virgins responded with something great about a Washington being over a Bush. Think about it. We told him that was a great response but we generally call it all you can eat for under a dollar. Both Virgins made themselves cum to the hash so volunteer sponsors demonstrated down-downs and we sang the virgins their own down-down song. They properly inverted their vessels over their craniums and arose Virgins no more. Just like Jesus! It was sometime around then that a few bike cops arrived on the scene. We all hastily hid our beer and pretended to be a running group that was just stretching. The personal trainer part of me feels the need to point out that most of the attempts to stretch looked rather pathetic. We drink way better than we stretch. Goat offered the cops some pizza, which they declined, but they seemed ok with us. We thought perhaps they had not seen the beer until as they were riding away they told us to hide the beer and finish quickly. Well hashers know how to finish ;) We re-formed circle, called friendly cops an Easter miracle and continued. The transplant was called in to sing us a song of his people, or show us a body part or provide a joke. He went for the triple play as he sang to us about how White house in DC are all assholes and then showed us a bodypart which I believe our RA informed him was also a joke. Can’t say BH3 is inhospitable. There were a couple accusations. Jews were called in for drinking beer during Passover. 5 Inch was called in for missing the tit check and then again for not running far enough down an alley to find the next mark. I admitted that I gave up on that ally with him so I joined him and drank for that. There were more accusations and then some announcements about Marathon. We drank more, swang low, and then went to Ramrod.

On-Afer – Where else could we go from the fens?
We went to Ramrod en masse. Pitchers were purchased and then more pitchers were purchased. It got late for a Sunday. The bartender told me we made his night. The next morning those who were not there asked if we ever made it out of Ramrod because nothing was heard from anyone till late morning since we were all too busy regretting our Sunday night Ramrod decisions to communicate with the world.

On-Easter Miracles-On

-Orgasm Famine


Saturday 4/11: PooF H3 Trail in Milton
Sunday 4/12: BH3 Trail
Monday 4/13: RI H3 Trail
Tuesday 4/14: Beaver Marathon Pre-lube 6:30HST
Wednesday 4/15: Taco Marathon pre-lube 6:30HST
Thursday 4/16: Ball-buster Marathon pre-lube 6:30HST
Friday 4/17: C*mbridge beer mile and pub crawl 6:30HST
Saturday 4/18: Disney Princess Marathon Trail!
Sunday 4/19: Boston Moon fat boy 2:30HST

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Wrestle Mainia Hash

Wrestle Mainia/ The Hash where only Gimp wore a singlet
Hares: Wiki and Clit Notes
Pre-lube: Kelly Square Pub by the airport T stop
On-In: Outside by the river kinda near Wellington
Pack: Gimp, Famine, Blow bot, Ass-Stache, Friar, Cum Ear, Female Virgin, Male Virgin, Douche, Hoover, Butler, Visitor from DC  (something about a Stapler?)
Bag Car: Udder Whore

This was a Wiki trail. From start to finish. By that I mean first all of us foolish wankers traveled to a bar near the airport, only to follow Wiki around all the parts of Boston where they dump dead bodies, and then stand around at dusk in the cold singing to our hares about how shitty they were.  That being said I (Famine) did have some fun.

We gathered in the local pub to drink in preparation for trail. A brave DC visitor had brought 2 virgins so some of us socialized with them and tried our best not to scare them off before we got started. Our hares departed and we gave them what was likely far too much time as we waited for stragglers and eventually trickled out to the bag car. Butler ran a rather subdued chalk talk with surprisingly well-drawn genetalia. We introduced ourselves, told the virgins what to expect, and described the Wiki lost mark as a ‘trump card’ that negates all else. Butler led a rousing rendition of every day is Wednesday and we ran off in search of marks. Following trail went relatively smoothly until just before the bridge to Chelsea where a WN mark caused pack to mill about, someone to get yelled at by an angry salvage yard guy (or was it a crane operator?) and general mayhem. After an extended search for marks on our side of the bridge and much discussion of weather WN meant the dreaded Wiki Lost or something else I ran off across the bridge and found trail. After I had left someone found a bag of wine since apparently WN meant Wine Near. They must have stood around drinking that for some time because I got stopped by a dick check 2/3rds of the way over the bridge and waited for around 5 minutes while 7 passing cars honked at me before a hasher caught up and freed me. From there trail curved around back towards the river on a side street and down an ally, but a dearth of marks and questionably pointing arrows made for slow going as we kept losing trail. Soon after that we came upon a song check next to a dog park so we sang about some poor dog (rover?) and then there was a tit check in an ally. As I ran out about my 5th false of the day, pack found marks along the river that led to the first beer check!

The walkers had beaten us there and Cum Ear was gleefully searching for sea creatures along the shore line of our scenic coastal drinking spot. We drank our hard earned beers, ate orange food, told stories to terrify the virgins, and remarked on the presence of sunshine. A proper amount of time after the hares ran off we followed them and followed marks / zenned over many grassy and rocky areas in a very up-hill direction until we found a song check where we re-grouped and sang something. We found a confusing set of marks in a driveway with a true trail leading to a false 6 inches away from it and eventually found other marks leading back down the hill. Trail meandered through roads and parking lots, past a parked police man who watched me jaywalk 3 times as I ran out falses, past salvage yards and sketchy trucking areas, to yet another dick check where I didn’t really feel comfortable standing and waiting alone so I ran around and pre-checked until people caught up and freed me.  Pack seemed to be losing enthusiasm for running since suddenly a lot of walking seemed to be happening.  After running out one particularly long false I heard shouts of Beer Near and eventually found the hares and bag car hanging out in an ally. We drank more, ate more, socialized, gave the hares tons of time to mess with us, and ran on.

The third leg of trail caused the most consternation and wails of anguish within pack. It started out all right with marks and checks near major intersections that we navigated remarkably well, but soon after singing about why Jesus can’t go hashing, in front of a church, on Palm Sunday, things began to go downhill. We got mildly confused near a pizza shop that had the word food written in one color chalk and a questions mark in another color next to it. Fortunately 5 feet away from that there was an arrow-indicating trail (thank you Clit Notes). Then as far as I could tell trail totally disappeared for a while but we ran straight and found a check. We quickly found trail and another check, but that check was the last mark I saw that did not end up being a false for about 20 minutes. All of pack except for Blow-bot, who somehow went the right way, followed the false trail, milled about and searched for marks, got barked at by dogs, and searched a Best Buy parking lot for marks until the male virgin found a mark in a tennis court which we followed across a baseball field to a check where we found Blow-bot napping on some bleachers. Soon after that we realized where trail was going and ran straight to the on-in near the river.

For all that the on-in was outdoors on a day that did not quite get above 40 degrees it was rather pretty and snow free. We ate pizza before circle and then sang in our shitty hares. Comments on trail were somewhat standard but reflected the general shit-show nature of certain sections of trail. Wiki and Clit Notes sang us something I don’t remember. FRB (Blow-bot) and FBI (Famine) were called in to drink for our racist tendencies. DFL (Butler) was asked if he was lonesome tonight. I believe Wiki ended up joining him for cutting off the RA to initiate the song and then messing up the words. Udder was elected as Dementress of the day to de-virginize our 2 virgins. Both Virgins declared themselves backwoods. The male virgin sadly would not help his uncle jack off a horse, and his response to what is the square root of 69 was ‘my mouth’.  Their sponsors demonstrated down-downs, we sang them their down down song, they drank, and we decided to take them despite their un-worthiness. Accusations included technology on trail, peeing on trail, auto-hashing, and a whole lot more that I now forget. Once we started getting cold we announced some stuff and swung low.

ON-but there might not be marks-ON
-Orgasm Famine

Wednesday 4/1: Mismanagement Meeting 7PM Tasty Burger
Sunday 4/5 at 2:30HST: BH3 Yeaster Trail starting at The Globe near Copley
Saturday 4/11: PooF H3 Trail
Sunday 4/12: BH3 Trail
Monday 4/13: RI H3 Trail
Tuesday 4/14: Beaver Marathon Pre-lube 6:30HST
Wednesday 4/15: Taco Marathon pre-lube 6:30HST
Thursday 4/16: Ball-buster Marathon pre-lube 6:30HST
Friday 4/17: C*mbridge beer mile and pub crawl 6:30HST
Saturday 4/18: Disney Princess Marathon Trail!
Sunday 4/19: Boston Moon fat boy 2:30HST