Monday, July 30, 2018

Tour De Franzia Trash

What: Tour de Franzia trash
Who: Green Fairy, Half Tit your way
Pack: Anal Disco, Laurance My Labia, Wine Riot, Quater Mile Queer, Cuddle Puddle (both parts), Trash Panda (as evidence off ... cuddling), Shits and Ladders, A Just We Named, Hamburger Humper, Luva Lamp, OBoner, Others.

Start: Both Red and Orange Lines conspired to make me late for a hash which started a block from my house, but as I rushed in breathlessly just after 7, the hares were still ordering food because “we needed a base for the night” though the ancient wisdom of “don’t build your house on the sandy land” might need to be rebranded to “dont build your rage on pub food, don’t build it watered with beer” given  the results which will be presented in this document. The pack, confused as to what a hash was, had gotten a table and were all trying to eat healthy to start the night - see above. It didn’t work, see below. Either way, once everyone had finished eating we meandered our way to bag car and chalk talk behind the Lesely Administions building. The were standard marks, a check back, and “challenges” on trial. Teams were then assigned - Ex GMs, Team Red, and others - and bags of wine were handed out. The Ex GMs got Rose because we’re dumb, and Team Red got Red Fred. I’m pretty sure I’m already mixing up my memories.

Trial - Harvard:

Trial (which was dead laid) almost immiedately became half of pack walking with the hares and the bago and the other half gamefully running trial. The first part of trial was a pleasant jog around Harvard Law as though the hare - who had dead laid - intentionally laid it so that her co-GM wouldn’t stumble on marks on his way to work. We ran through a bit of the Lesely Campus, then past the Harvard science and math building, then to the volleyball court where Krusty foundled that bull during the fatboy two years ago...a trail also dead laid by the same hare, but that’s not the point. The point was that we had arrived at our first challenge.


The challange was to hold Fred (the bag of wine) in the air over your team members faces, and they had to drink it in a continuous stream for 30 seconds. The team which drank the most/spilled the least won. Unforutnately there was no imperical way of measuring this because we are hashers. It should be noted that there was a volley ball game going on, and the other picnic table was occupied by people drinking from gallon wine jugs. They thought we were entertaining riff raff as we debaucherously chugged our wine. Team Ex-GMs won, though your humble narrator might be biased.

Trial - Praying for Hills.

From the challnege, all of pack scouted back towards Harvard and Cambridge proper, while YHS strolled towards Somerville, and was rewarded with finding trial. The runners - Shits and Ugly Fuckingly - caught up and we jugged through the back of Harvard Divinity, past the science society (I think) park, and to the sketchy shaws. We then waited a solid ten minutes for the walkers to arrive and free us from the tit check. Trail then rather predictably ran up Lowell Street to the park at the top of the hill.


The second challenge of the night was standing a parking spot width appart, toss your bag back and forth - taking a step back each time. The team that got the furthest appart without hurting FRED won. Team Ex-GMs won. Team Red Fred I think just gave up and ran off drinking their wine and Team HVD’s Rage Dragon (sans HVD) broke their Fred really bad. Team Ex-GMs, in all fairness, also gave their Fred a booboo, but they were able to give him a bandaid which helped a bit.

Trail Run to the bike path:

We ran down Lowell Street to the bike bath, then drank Red Fred until the rest of pack arrived. The moon was rising over the train tracks and it was pretty.

Challenge Drink From Such Great Heights-

 Standing on the top of the handicap ramp down to the bike path, one member of each team had to pour wine into the mouths of everyone else on the team. The team with the least wine splatter won. This is when trial devolved into a roving wine party and your humble narrators recollection gets fuzzy. We sat on the bike path for a while and made strange faces at all the bikers who went past.

Trial Where Are the Marks? Lets Just Go Find a Park?

Trial from the third challenge was laid in greying purple flour on cement sidewalks at night. Trial was easy to find and we did not just zen to the park by Powder House Square. There was a check back to Just Appartment. Other than that, I don’t think anyone was running. I saw Quarter Mile run past me once, but I think that was because he was lost or something,or maybe going to meat the harriets who showed up the the wine challenge I will describe in the next section.

Challenge Kilts are Great:

This was a challenge in 4 parts. I believe it was derived, at some point, from a beer mile, but that’s like saying I’m the King of England because I speak English. That anology failed, but the event didn’t. Basically you waddled with a bag of wine between your legs, then handed the bag off to another team member, and repeat four times. Team Ex-GMs won, then took our Fred to sit by a tree while *things happened* *waves hand* Specifically, the harriets QMQ found played catchup. There was also a challenge involving consentual glitter, which I consentually wanted no part of.

Trail Which Way To Butlers?

We walked down broadway Butlers house. I belive that QMQ ran some portion because a story was told around the campfire - there was no campfire, but allow me to paint the picture - of a young, luscios, QMQ passed on Butlers stoop when a friendly looking lady walks up to him and says “Hello.” QMQ, being ever so kind a drunk mumbles something that he’s okay, he knows where he is and he’s waiting for his running club to catch up. The woman replied “Um, I’m Rainbow.” It was Rainbow Fucking Brite! Nothing else of consequence happened on that part of trial.


Oh, you thought we circled? Nope! There was another challange!

FIP-CUP-WITH-WINE-HAPPENED. Because that exactly what we needed; to get more drunk. Anyway, team EX-GMs won because we’re amazing.

Lets see how much of this I remember. The hares were called in. I don’t think I fucked up that song. FRBs and FBIs probably, but I don’t actually remember that. Moon burn was called in because 98% of pack forgot cranium covers, but the stupididly of moon burn does explain the choices which were made that night. Moon virgins were called in and Gnome demented them. Ugly fell into a bike. The various teams were called in - Team Ex-GMs for winning and Team HVD rage dragons for killing their Fred. Sweat test failures weren’t, but I need a sentence here so I can type this next sentence. Ugly Fucking fell into the wall again, and was taken up stairs. I tried to “Old McDonald” someone, but sang “Father Abraham” instead, so i was “Old McDonalded” We then accused Just Steph of being a just. I almost fell into the wall. I have no idea what happened, or what her name was, but her What’s App Icon is now log with cum on it, so take from what you will. We sang a song about meeting a whore in a park, the problems we had getting it in, then the fun we had with her corpse.

I believe people then refunded:
In the bathroom
On the patio
In the yard
In the bushes.

-Laurance My Laibia

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