Friday, September 11, 2015

Old Fahts Hash

Hash Trash - A Summer Hash in Downtown Boston - Old Fahts Hash

When: Wed. 9/2/2015
Time 6:30 HST
Weather: a very warm late summer evening

Start: Barking Crab, 88 Sleeper St., Boston

Beer Checks: 

1. Under the bridge next to the Barking Crab

2. Under the sculpture on the Greenway (see photo below) 

On-in: Biddy Early's
Hares: Pat My fly, Skibobbit & not Dribbles

Disclaimer from the hares: This will be a back to the basics hash. So far
back, that most of you weren't even a though on your parents' minds. Hell,
they weren't even screwing each other. They didn't even know they were gonna
be screwing each other.

Promises: Short trail, shitty beer, senile, deaf hares. Speaking of hares,
we could use a volunteer or 2. Familiarity with changing depends & able to
listen to tales of long ago hashes when we did things right. 

HASHERS PRESENT (in addition to the 2 hares): Pulp Friction, High Anus,
Yankee Pay $5 More, The Buttler Hit It, Goes down on Buoys, Rodent Feltcher,
Hare Club for Queers, Bring Out the Gimp, Blowbot, Tickle Me Homo (Atlanta),
Just Stephan, Just Hanna, Just Mike, Just Rob, Just Megan, Just Anne, Black
Cock Down, WinToes 69, Cums Alone, Bottom Wrangler, Mr. Rodgers, Can't Eat
Pussy, Orgasm Famine, Clit Notes, Vienna Sausage, Just Isaac (I think I got
almost everyone)

Virgins: Puja, Jason

Late Cummers: Dribbles (she was not a hare!), Twat My Mom, and House of
Boobs (Atlanta)

The Start, the trail:

Hashers crowded into the Barking Crab, adding body heat to the already warm
evening. Eventually, the pack finished their beers, and we circled outside.
Marks were more or less standard . with the addition of a "?" which
indicated a senile hare, and a double headed arrow, which meant the trail
could go left or right.

The walkers had a short one minute walk to the first beer check, which was
next to the Barking Crab under the bridge. We grabbed a beer and watched
the dragon boat crew come in from the channel. Meanwhile, the pack went all
around the new South Boston waterfront, and eventually arrived at the beer
check, all hot and sweaty.

Eventually, once sufficient beer was consumed, the pack continued on the
trail into the Financial District and onto the Greenway for beer check
number 2.

From the beer check it was more or less a straight shot to the on-in, at
Biddy Early's.

The On-In:

The circle started at 9 p.m. (one of the reasons I don't hash more often is
that it makes for a very late night). Clit Notes was RA. Comments on the
run included: walkers' trail was long and arduous, we didn't get yelled at
to get off the lawn, trail sucked, pretty sh*tty, etc.

The hares did their down down and sang Me no likee British soldier.

Accusations: FRB, FBI, DFL, Matching shirts, backsliding, visitors,
birthdays, sweat test failures, etc. etc. It was very loud in the bar, and
dark, so I didn't write anything down.

Virgins Jason and Puja were demented by Goat Throat. They failed the dollar
bill question. Proxy sponsors demonstrated a down down, and they were
welcomed to the hash.

We finally did hash religion, and adjourned to eat pizza.

Quotes: "I'm just going to make sh*t up (me)

Overheard snippet of conversation: That's the best way to get drunk". (I
missed the good part of that one). 

And on my way to South Station, I passed a passed-out woman who'd been in
the bar (not a harriette). She was in the middle of the sidewalk. Two men
from the bar said they were going to call the police to help her, since they
couldn't get her to tell them the name and number of a friend who could come
to rescue her.

--Cums Alone, Scribe Emeritus

Thursday, September 3, 2015

Tubthumping Hash

Tubthumping Hash
Hares: Blondie McF*cksalot & Marbleous Asshole
Bag Car: Wiki
Pack: 50ish of the prettiest people in Boston

What is a chumbawamba? That is the question Krusty asked us to answer when we gave our names and kennels before trail. For all that we heard many ideas of what it/he/she/they could be I remain as mystified as ever. Something about sex in a bathtub? A really old rabbit? A sober hasher? The most important thing we were informed of was that in honor of the tubthumping trail we would be presented with shot checks as the song dictates. As hashers departed chalk-talk they could be heard to recite “A whisky drink, a vodka drink, a cider drink, a lager drink” or something like that.

Trail went from BHP up into Beacon Hill to the distain and horror of the residents therein, who did not seem to appreciate my calls of on-on as I traversed their precious cobbled streets and narrow sidewalks. Eventually we started towards Gov. Center but followed marks in towards the courthouse where we found our first SC! The whisky drink was remarkably palatable so we polished it off and ran off in search of trail. However, trail was not to be found! I personally ran around lost for 5-10 minutes searching the paths by the courthouse, streets near Bowdoin T stop, and every side of the street for even one stray mark to encourage my direction. All in vain. Fortunately, eventually someone happened upon a Hash Sittapeed down towards the North end. I still don’t know how we were supposed to know to travel down that hill and across the giant intersection to get to it, but we were not too drunk yet so we managed it. After a successful Sittapeed we ran off towards and into the North end. At the site of the residence of the Knomy Coonass we found our second round of shots. Blue hatorade if I am not mistaken. From there we ran towards Hanover Street, through the parks full of famous stuff where we found some cans of cider hidden in a bush, through all the twisty turney alleyways and out towards the harbor near the skating rink. Since Wiki was bag car the call of Beer Near!!!!! was less bellowing than normal but thirsty hashers still seemed to get the message and pick up the pace.

We took in a beautiful sunset over the Zakim and the harbor as we sipped our (lager drink?) beverages and munched on orange food. The hares departed rather obviously towards the Charlestown bridge. A decent amount of time later we followed and wound through the locks to the dog park on the other side of the river where we found more Cider! At a Song check back up on the bridge we sang a little bit of El Camino before we continued on and somewhat quickly found ourselves at the secluded dog park across from the gas station just into Charlestown for the on-in!

There was some confusion getting all of pack through the gate and then we milled around a bit as we waited for beer and food to arrive. When it did Krusty immediately started circle and by calling the hares in to get on their knees. (hopefully not in dog shit) The comments on trail were pretty innocuous. Not enough shots? Too many shots? Shots that tasted too good? Not enough glitter ;) The hares kind of apologized for not singing us the tubthumping song before breaking into El Camino.

In a bold move Krusty then called in Just Allissa for an early circle naming. He told a story that my memory can’t possibly do justice to that had to do with her waving her arms about like hungry hungry hippo jaws and something about a dick? The name he proposed was hungry hungry dick ho which was med with rousing cheering from pack. After a slight pause in which nobody jumped in with another name idea Krusty began singing ‘Here’s to Hungry Hungry Dick Ho’ and pack joined in to make the name official. Hungry Hungry Dick Ho arose from her 69 second naming a true hasher forevermore. There was an FRB,FBI, DFL, maybe some backsliders, and all the normal stuff. We had visitors and transplants from all over the place. One of note. Krusty called in anybody who goes by the name of Goat. Goat Throat and a transplant who’s name includes Goat entered circle to face off.  Krusty asked pack what we should have them do to figure out who is the dominant Goat and then said perhaps a chugging contest would be unfair… someone, maybe Krusty?, suggested Goat Throat chug 2 beers instead of 1 to make it fair. Pack loved that idea so 3 the beers were prepared and the chugging commenced. Transplant Goat dutifully began chugging and looked to be doing a decent job but Goat throat downed the first can in a single 4 second gulp. He threw the discarded can down grabbed the second can and began to chug, for that one he did stop to breath or something but the pause was short lived. Krusty declared him the dominant Goat and both Goats returned to circle slightly drunker. There was a bit more to circle but since Anna’s taqueria buritto’s were awaiting us it was wrapped up moderately quickly. We swang low.

As we were inhaling food it was announced that there was a slip and slide. As hashers joyeously stripped down to whatever level they desired and ran, slid, and frolicked we learned that the slip and slide was covered in glitter. Surprise! Only hashers would think it’s a good idea to strip down and dive onto a thin piece of plastic over dog shit encrusted ground. We drank and got increasingly covered in glitter. My chest began to take on a scaled look. Public Service Announcement: When covered in glitter do not hug people who don’t want to be hugged. Eventually our drunken glittery brains realized it was to to get the fuck out and our glittery bodies entered ubers, lifts, and trains home.

ON-Did you shit glitter?-ON