Thursday, June 9, 2016

Spermaid Goes Down On Revere

What: Spermaid Goes Down On Revere
Where: Bill Ashes
Who: Spermaid and Bottom Wrangler
Guest staring: Revere Police, and Piss Off Townie*
Who else:

Blondie McFucks A lot*, Marblelous Asshole, Chunderellie, Glutenlous Maximus, Five Inch Penatly, 3 Ring Cervix, Pop Cum Ear I’m Enfected, Wikiepodiphilia, E=I’MDouche, HoseA, Just Texan, Virgin Texan, Other Virgin, Salty Mud Flaps, PoPo Peepshow, Dry Hose, Black Cock Down, Can’t Eat Pussy, Fellowship of the Cockring, Orgamism Falmon, others I forget.

Start:

I got there as bag car was called, so I have no idea, but here’s a guess. Since it’s the blue line pack arrived in 5 minute intervals and quickly took over the side of the bar. The townies and local were surprised at our appearance, and we assured them that we were just friendly drunks who also liked running. The idea of ever leaving Bill Ashes was strange to them, but they understood drinking and didn’t kick us out this time. Eventually hares were, late comers arrived, bag car was called and we left the bar for chalk talk.

Chalk Talk:

Happened; there were a lot more marks reviewed than were used on trail, there will be a quiz later.

Trail Fishhook: (So named because while there were no fish hooks on trail, the trail itself looked like a fish hook)->

Pack started scouting in both ways (we don’t care which way you go) down the beach and inland, but determined that the hares didn’t bring flour (pitty, lots of good shiggy in Revere), and limited our scouting to pavement covered areas. Eventually we found trail going down the beach towards Boston which we followed to a song check at a rotary. There was a false marked inland, and Butler, forgetting that we had just determined that trail would be pavement pounding, ran down the beach. Trail did not go down the beach, but instead turned into the quant sea side neighborhood of wherever the fuck we were. As we were yogging merrily down the streets a child called to me “why are you wearing an amazing galaxy-print kilt?” to which I replied “because I’m amazing!” [If you have a choice between printing the truth and the legend, print the legend] and trail continued to a hash sitapead which the hash attempted on the side walk, but nearly fell over, so they moved to the road. Again scouting in every direction was technically necessary since trail went straight then randomly (un marked turn?) turned right to loop past a previous beer check before doubling back on itself and beer checking at a playground, complete with kids!

Beer check Playground (there was only actually one of these…)

The beer was had and we stayed off the to the side to allow the chillons room to play and not be scared by the sight of 30 adults in various forms of racist attire (there was a  lot out last night folks). I have no exact recollections of conversations, except that I would ninja my way around sneaking sips from peoples beer because “I wasn’t drinking” [more on this later]. With parents becoming concerned, the hares left and we scampered after them.

Trail Almost Up Hill:

I am going to have to thank the hares for leading us around instead of up and down over the hills in Revere point (as I’m calling it), though not before getting pretty much all of pack to bite on a long YBF right out of the gate. After not seeing any marks for a while, “last mark” was called and we found that the last mark was a False, so we ran back to the check and followed trail around the hill to a fish hook check, and a true trail down a grass slope. For those who didn’t follow true trail, but instead ran directly down the slope there were some prickers and light shiggy to deal with, but eventually we jumped a retaining wall and ran along the road to SN/SC. Quick note about the retaining wall. Last night was the debut of my new “galaxy print wicking kilt” (which is amazing!) but it’s made of light weight fabric that loves to fly up so, to the cars on the road, sorry not sorry for what happened. To the hashers, well, y’all know.

Shot check on the beach:

Was apparently strong, but I was still in my “not drinking mode.” Teams were formed and some people ran into the waves to test the waters, others skipped stones. HoseA and I had a grand reunion and traded stories about Voodoo Monkey 8, which was fun and all, except that these stories – “there was no trail because the hares were on acid.” “No, there was a trail, I ran it!” “Ha, no, Bleeps and I yelled OnOn and ran into the woods and people followed us, but there was no trial.” – which are fine stories, until we got into the naked messages, disco tent, orgies on the dance floor and general beyond the pale level of rage that is VDM. The Just was like “Are all campouts like that?” kind of in awe and shock to which we shrugged…anyway, the just being sufficiently scared of the group he joined, we finished the shots and ran off.

Trail Almost Beer Check:

Trail from the shot check clearly went up hill. We knew this for two reasons; firstly the hash always runs up hill, and secondly the hares had told us it was A to A and there’s no way a trail can go into Wintrhrop/Easite and back to revere and not be a surprise ball buster. Surprisingly enough, trail was up hill! At the top of the hill there was a check and on-on was called in both directions; one direction was down into the bogs (great shiggy for a different trail) or up another hill, so clearly the downhill was false but we waited for pack in front of the Rereve boat club with “Friggin’ in the Riggin” not a hundred yards from the song check we saw Beer Near, but no one yelled, because there was a cruiser (the cop kind, not the fun kind – Gimp wasn’t haring), parked on top of it. The hares had been snared, by the cops and were in the process of figuring out what to do. It was recommended that they move the Beer Check, which they did.

Trail Not Quiet Beer Check:

We decided to give the hares 5 minutes, but told them to lay song checks a long the way to make it fun. We also told pack, or at least those who don’t listen to the news, that two men had been beaten (and one died) in the area over the past few nights so cops had increased patrols and someone had already reported a “gang of runners drinking in a playground” so…that happened. Trail was a straight shot to the beer check, though everyone saw tits, dicks, or whatever they wanted, we had two rousing song checks, a hug and a sitapead before running into the loading area behind an abandoned Shaws.

Beer Check Shots Fired!

A quick count confirmed that only Butler and I were on the Perl Necklace which BCd back there (CPAs toilet seat was not fount). There was beer, there was faux popcorn and fun was had; also I decided to drink so my memory will get fuzzy from here on. I don’t recall and particular conversations, though Fellowship was amazed that bums hadn’t taken over the shaws. The hares eventually scampered away (and we watched them go). CEP and I had a brief choir practice, joined by Glutenless, going over Balls to Mr. Bengles and The Sexual Life of a Camel, feeling good about my ability to remember verses, I was going to meander over to another group of hashers when A FUCKING BOMB (okay, it was a really loud, perhaps double M80) went off in the back yard next to us, followed by a townie yelling “I bet y’all will shut up and move along now!” Or something to that effect; not wanting to start WWIII, we left post-haste.

Trail Back to the Beach:

From the beer check to the beach nothing of note happened; there was a beer and a traffic cone was found and brought to circle. The ON-IN was on the beach across from the start.

CIRCLE:

Once pack had trudged over the sand to the tidal area and beer reinforcements were had (3 30 racks, plus warm harpoon in bottles), circle formed and happi/rev coats were put on. The hares were first called in for their shitty trail and comments were given; too many cops, not enough explosions. Despite this, not shots fired were called on the hares, and instead we instructed them, in song, that they should have used more flour and chalk. They then sang to us about their favourite car, and were dismissed from circle. Circle started off with FRBs – it was DOUCHE – and FBI – Orgasm #nosurprise, and then DFL – Butler. Next on their knees were the visitors – HoseA and a Just – from Austin, and the Just likes girth, so remember that boys. They sang about when it’s incest time in Texas, and then we called all Texans in so the Virgin and Salty joined them, and I’m not sure what they sang. The virgin from Texas, having already done a down-down was called back in, along with his counterpart from Arlington, were called in to be demented. Popo did her thing – topless this time, though that seems to happen more often than not – and inquired them of their favorite barn yard animal, and their orgasms; after than she tried to ask what the square root of 69 was, but the virgin from Arlington cut her off and yelled “8 something!” prematurely. It happens to all of us, so she moved right on to demonstrating down-downs; which they completed and they will now be justs, or whatever. Speaking of Just, Just Jennie was accused of hashing since the winter and not being named, and we called her in on her knees. She was a good sport, but no names stuck so we threw her back and moved onto accusations. Right off the bat Cum Ear accused Five Inch of getting on his knees  - a charge he accepted, and he called 3 Ring Certvix in as the reason why he was on his knees, a charge she similarly supported. CEP sang them some song about having sex, and then opened the circle up to accusations. I accused anyone who had ever done a down-down at the Cove before it burned down (I didn’t really, but that’s what I meant to do, so, whatever, see my previous comment on Truth Vs Legend) so Butler, Douche, Friar, 5 Inch and I drank to the departed OnIn. Spermaid and Bottom Wrangler were then called in because it was the razing of the Cove which lead to their infamous encounter in the surf, and drank as well. At some point Douche was called in, and I was pulled in for “When One GM drinks” and we grabbed Butler since he was wearing a kilt. There were more accusations but I was 3 surprise beers deep at this point and circle was devolving into a main circle and 3 massive private parties. There was a great moment though, and no one was accused of it, but it will be recorded here, where after a song the only sound was the sound of maybe a half dozen hashers pissing into the sand. Accusations continued and Just Ryan (I think, whatever) was accused of picking up a cone and bringing it into circle. After that anyone who had ever done a down-down out of a cone was called in, and, finally, cone in hand, Blonde McFucks alot was accused of having a shitty name and not being blonde. Therefore, Blonde McFucks Alot went down and BLOWCONE came up; hence forth and forever more in the world of hashing Blondie McFucks Alot will be known a BLOWCONE (or until we rename her...again). It was getting cold and windy and there was pizza so after announcements (see below) we swang low.

On – Once more into Revere Dear Hashers, Once more into Revere – On

-Wikipedophilia
Annoucments:

TONIGHT: FREE BEER AT BOSTON COMMON -> Show up between 4:30 and 7 and sign up to volunteer for the Corporate Challenge (hand out water, etc) then follow marks to the super secret FREE ON-IN (hint: It used to be a British Protectorate and has Kerooke and Meatsticks, though you can’t Kareoke Meatstick)

Saturday: Eager 4 Beaver Trail #69, 12-Noon Beaver Standard Time at Gimp’s place in Bilrica. Bring food for a potluck and maybe beer for drinking into the night. There’s crash space, so bring whatever you want to sleep in.

Sunday: Eager 4 Beaver Trail: #69.69: Fatboy starting in JFK Park near Harvard. (Note, if you’re a racist and are running the Tory Row 5k, feel free to join us)

Wedensday 6/15: PICARD DAY TRAIL -> Start is Shays, also in Havard.

July 8-10: Invihash in vermount! Rego now:

August 12: Boston Hash BBQ (announcement forth coming)

Epilogue – The On After

Immediately after we swang low, and had some food, a good dozen hashers stripped and ran naked into the surf; it was quiet a site to see a dozen shining white bodies diving under the waves and coming up screaming. Were blow jobs given, maybe? After the swim the pack needed to dry off and warm up so they went back to Bill Ashes for more beer and warmth. The friendly vibe the accompanied the pack on their first entrance was gone and the townies had been spoiling for a fight. The bartender sided with her people and refused service or over charged hashers while the pack tried to make friends with the locals who were having none of it. Something happen to WifeOut and pack left in a huff. The long blue line ride back to the civilized world was only tolerable because of the road sodas they brought with them and had a contest as to who could post the most on social media about how much they hated Revere.
Or something.
I wasn’t there, and no one who was can remember it.
GET BACK TO WORK.
(Or have another BEER!)

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