Pink Moon Marathon Pre-lube

What: Pink Moon Trail

Where: Charlie’s Kitchen

Who:

Hares: Ugly Fuckingly, Anal Disco*

Bag car: Blowcone

Pack:

Laurance of my Liabia, Yoron Weed, O’Boner Where art Ow?, Bring Out the Gimp, Chunderilli Chunderilli, Not Dead Yet, Clit Notes, Amilia Airfart, Just Pat, Anal Apologist, 2 Virgins, Queer and Foaming in my Anus, Mr. Bean, Fellowship of the Cockring, PoPo Peepshow, other’s I probably forgot.

Start:

Was at charlie's kitchen; Disco and I talked about conversation tones, other people drank.

Circle:

Was held in a parking lot, the owner of which came by and asked what we were doing, and Spank Me, without warning, started leading us in stretches. This pleased the owner and he moved on. Marks were reviewed for the virgins and visitors, though your erstwhile RA (and humble scribe) forgot all the “interactive checks” (thought fear not, they were liberally used) and we took off.

Leg: “How many ways can we get there from here?”

The answer is, of course, a lot, and, as hashers, we weren’t so good at finding them. Trail ran around (though not through) the charles square hotel, however 5 inch penalty ran directly into, then got tangled in a wreath stand while scouting a false. There was the first of many song checks in a parking lot and trail continued towards, and eventually through the seminary school before depositing us, not at all predictably, at Longfellow Park. The only real question was “shots or beer?” and the answer was alcohol. It was green and fizzy and smelled slightly of aniese. For reasons which escape me now, I abstained, though by the looks on peoples faces it was of a standard shot check quality - that is, slightly above undrinkable.

From there trail flirted - that slut* - with sending us over (or maybe through) the river, and pack tried as hard as they could to get us free admission to Mount Auburn Hospital, or maybe that was just the pack running back and forth across the street. Either way there was a hash sitapead astride of the ambulance entrance. Luckily there were none of those coming as we sat and sang, and then took off looking for dark blue chalk, on brick side walks in the dark. They were totes easy to see. So easy. Like hi-vis on a sunny day easy. That might be a lie. Either way we continued down whatever that road is with our beer-dars going of like woah, until eventually found beer near and one of the hares in the park.

Beer check: Don’t get sick.

One of the hares got rather sick and baled on trail, so the remaining hare was nervous about getting snared ... more on that later .. most of the conversations focuses around the temperature of the beer, the lack of natural light, and the lack of sufficient supplementary illumination on the part of the pack. After giving the hare a very liberal 15 minutes, pack eventually chased after him.

Trail “He can’t be laying this alone”

...But he was. Also, he’s a bit of a racist, but more on that later. Though there were half the hares on the second leg, there were roughly twice the marks, and not all the checks were song checks. It was a bit death marchy, and pack was getting generally worried that we were straying quiet far into watertown, when we was a SN/SC/CB13. The shots - surprisingly good bourbon for a moon trail - were passed around as pack shuffled they way back the requested number of marks before finally turning north. I have to be honest now, as a scribe and as a hasher, I get lost every time I go near Fresh Pond - to me, it looks the same from all angles, so I was relieved that we were approaching it, but really couldn’t pin down our location any more than that. Luckily, I didn’t have to as we were quickly met by a BN and a BC by a bag car parked in the parking lot.

Beer check - Is the beer warm or cold?

One thrity rack was warm, the other cold, and no one could remember which one was which, and there was orange food. Blowncone tried to pawn off more hab, and seeing that it was getting late and trail was short, we quickly chased after the hare.

Trail “Where in the park are we going?”

Spoiler alert; the other side, by Paddy’s. However, to get there we had to run past a car dealership and a gas station, then behind a shopping center before getting to a check back that left some of pack standing in the middle of a crosswalk waiting for OnOn to be called. Apparently this behavior is outside the bounds of normal activity, but eventually we made it to the park. Then we ran across the park, past a soccer game to the OnIn.

Circle:

Was interesting; we sang to the RA, Marbels, and reminded him how hard it had been to see marks, and suggested that next time perhaps he should have used more flour, or chalk. After that he called in the FRB/FBI who were Five Inch and someone else, and they drank, then we called in the DFL - OBWOW - and it was only half-way through “are you lonesome tonight” did we look around and figure out that Butler and Yoron were still on trail. Whatever, we kept singing. Next in were Moon backsliders, which was everyone except for Douche and I, though, in all honestly, it was probably smarter not to go to his frozen-ass trail, but, whatever, I digress. At this point there were two very confused people in circle; the virgins and they were called into be demented in the glorious return of the Dementress Extrodenaire, PoPo Peep Show. She got one of them to admit that the weirdest place she had ever had sex in Boston was her office, then copped to being Anal  Apologist (who she insisted on calling Anal Beads)’s boss. The other virgin has always wanted to hook up in the fens. Pack fell silent and looked around at this, not sure what to make of it. Was she being funny? Did she know what that meant? Anyway, we taught them how to down-downs, and accepted them - kinda - into our midsts. Around this time Butler and Yoron showed up and we made them drink as well. No one remembered that Moon used to be infamous for shot-gun down-downs, and no one remembered that we used to call border jumpers in...traditions, kidz, tranditions, with out them we are merely drunks! With them we are “unqiuely cultured drunks!” There’s a difference. Okay, I’ll get off my old-man soap box now. We met a whore in the park and dispersed into the night.

On - pink moon - On

-Laurance of my Labiaia

Announcements:
BEAVER TRAIL TONIGHT -> Alewife station on the red line, $15, bring cranium lamp and change of clothes. Good beer and good food at the onin.

CUMBRIDGE BEER MILE TOMORROW - North Point park - do NOT show up early and pre-game by the river; pregame at the offically sanctioned pre-lube Courtside, just a few blocks away.

Gather at 6:30HST, beer mile starts at 7PM SHARP.

Pub crawl will commenance shortly there after, in or around north station area.

SATURDAY, MARATHON MAIN EVENT:

Start is: Kinsale, Gov’t Center, Boston MA

Show up before noon for brunch

Registration and beer starts at 12:30

Hares away/opening circle at 1.

SUNDAY: PINK TACO FAT BOY

Start: Tavern In the Square, Porter

MONDAY: BEER CHECK @ Mile 20, get there aroun 11.

Also, Ball Buster starting @ 10, ending at the beer check.

May G have mercy on your Livers!