What: The Blow My Shofaa
Hash
Who: Sex, The Final
Frontier, Just Steph
Where: McCabes
Pack:
Escort Required, Pole
Sitter, Udder Whore, Sketchy Ho, Dribbles, The Butler Hit It, Just Dumb, Other
Justs, Cunt Jungle, Virgin Internet, Goat Throat, Orgamsn Falmon, No Man On the
Moon, Twat My Mom, Bottom Wrangler, Wikipedophilia, Spunk in the Trunk, Shits
and Ladders, Five Inch Penalty, 3 Ring Cervix, Other People I Forgot.
Start:
When I arrived at
the bar Twat and No Man were talking about Mother Hash and the Danish couple
were drinking. They informed me of a conversation that had with the bartender.
It went something along the lines of “Do you have Malort?” The bartender looked
shocked and said “How do you know about that?” Escort said “I’m a hasher, I
know things.” The bartender then informed him that a friend of the bartenders
had gone to Chicago and returned with this utterly vile drink called Malort, of
which he has a bottle behind the bar. He will drink shots with customers but he
can’t sell or pour them, or tell people that he has them. So, I leave it to
you, noble readers of this trash, to do with the knowledge what you will. There
is Malort at a bar in Boston, but you have to ask the bartender, and he has to
judge your worthy – or I guess no worthy enough – to give you a shot.
Enough of that, here’s
what happened on trail:
Chalk talk:
Was held in the gas
station parking lot acorss from the bar. Packed was asked to demonstrate what
they think a Shofaa sounds like. Bottom Wrangler says it sounds like someone
yelling Tequllia so he always drank Tequllia as a kid? I might have made that
up. Anyway, eventually once we introduced ourselves and explained the marks to
the virgins and visitors (chalk talk was drawn in white chalk, the marks were
in … grey?) we set off.
Trail “Listen to your
eldars”-
A few hashers who
were arriving late (or rather normally, the hares left shockingly at 6:45 on
the .d.o.t.) saw the hares running past Porter, and so knew which direction to
scout and to blow through the first YBF. Trail apparently ran behind a few
buildings then came back to Mass Ave where there was a check in front of
Lesley. The hares and physicists, so I’ll assume that their math skills are
better than mine but they seem to have a very liberal idea of what 369 degress
is. Trail was solved through the parking lot behind what used to be TiTs and
back to the road which the check was drawn on - I have no idea how
the two connected. It eventually led to a check back into the “Aggizia”
neighborhood of Cambridge, and to what is now my new favourite song check.
After starting out Jesus can’t go hashing with why Moses can’t go hashing, we
proceeded to sing to the glory of all our favourite Tora/Old Testiment heros
and why none of them could go hashing until people realized that we could do
this for years and went to go find trail. Trail continued towards the sketchy
Shaws on Beacon St, with a predictable check back. Standing at a mark pointing
towards what would eventually become a check back, I saw Twat running to the
bridge under the rail road tracks and my hashey senses went off and I followed
him. Much to my surprise we found not only trail, but also a surprisingly
drinkable shot check! We waited for pack to regroup before emerging from the
tunnel in front of the fire station and checking up the wrong hill. Twat again
checked up the right hill, saving some of us from a check back – truly he is
the hero we need, not the hero we deserve, or however that line goes. I never
watched the Batman movies. Trail flitered with running up hill but she’s a
tease and we should’ve kept on going down. With half of pack running merrily
along not seeing marks someone in the back third noticed a WN and a true trail
pointing to a random apartment building, with a mark saying to go up the stairs
to the roof…so up we went!
Wine Check Roof:
I’m not calling it a
“Roof Deck” because I’m pretty sure we weren’t supposed to be up there; there
were no structural elements or rail guards, but there was wine. At this point
in the night I was still following my “no drinking on work nights” rule so I
abstained from the wine. I was later informated that it tasted like being
punched in the face by grapes. We were all appreciative of the home-made wine
donated by the hare, but suggest the perhaps she shouldn’t quit her day job;
Chatueax La Tour this was not. I learned that either Prince sung a song about
have sex in a whorse box, or he had sex with whorse box, or all horses boxes
are really just full of people banging. It was unclear. Talk to Whorse Box.
Eventually we noticed that the hares were gone so we shuffled down the stairs
and tried to find trail.
Trail Um, what marks?
From the wine check we
scouted up hill and down hill, to the left around the block and to the right
around the block. We crosses Somerville ave and scouted towards Aeronaught and
came we back. We were able to regal the virgins, justs, and new hashers of the
time five years ago when we on-ined at the abonded lot which we had been
running around three times in a row and each time the cops were called. The
last time the cops were like “No, seriously, stop coming here, this is the
third week in a row we’ve have to speak to you!” And we did stop going there
for almost five years. More on that later #foreshadowing. Eventually not
finding any marks some people noticed that the marks to the wine check (which
were in high-vis grey chalk) had been crossed out and replaced with arrows in
higher-vis blue chalk pointing the other way. All this led to much yelling and
complaining in pack, right at the time when a bedraggled young mother came out
to pled with us to be quite because she was trying to put her baby to bed. At
that exact same moment trail was called up hill in the direction we came which
caused one hasher to remark, in a very calm and relaxed tone “OH, FOR FUCKS
SAKE!” then take off. Trail was called up hill to a song check where we resumed
our retelling of the Old Testiment from the point of why Jesus can’t go
hashing. Pack quickly tired of this and would rather run up hill, which we did,
to another song check in front of a church. Not wanting to annoy the newcomers,
we sang about Father Burgminhams many exploits, before deciding we were all
going to hell. Luckily the beer check was a block away.
Beer check – Nah, I’m
good, oh, wait you have Gameldansk, lets pound that! And the Malort too!
The beer check,
like most of the trail, was made from the dregs of last weeks hash. In fact,
the beer check was exactly where last weeks beer check was supposed to be if
one of the hares hadn’t gotten lost #trashshade. I was happily munching on
smart food and sipping water when I saw a group of young, enthusiastic hashers
gathered around a slowly getting drunk off his own supply Escort who was
passing around bottle after bottle of Gameldansk. I love Gameldansk, mainly for
the memories, so I joined the circle, and you kinda need something to chase it
so my sober night suffered the revenege of the Danes for
Copenheginization…#deephistorycuts #wikionwiki. We conducted a lot of
back-2-back shots of Gameldansk and Malort and forgot to notice that either the
hares had left, or the our esteemed Ass Cowboy hand wrangled himself up the
virgin and a group of justs who had been hopeless lost and arrived at the beer
check just as I was calling pack away, so we all drank some more until everyone
was drunk enough to think following trail was a good idea.
Trail Essentially a lot
of zenning-
Marks, being exclusively
laid in grey and purple chalk was increasingly hard to find. We zenned through
or around a retirement home then ran up highland street for a while to as hash sitapeed.
We scouted downhill, then up hill, but found nothing until we found marks in a
very creative reading of 360 back across highland street going down hill. No
fool I, I refused to give up the highground for a few blocks until I saw pack
running away from me down School street, so I chased after them, eventually
catching up at a song check in which I lead the Engineer Song while Cunt Jungle
gave her just a blowjob in a playground. Trail was again eventually solved
downhill to a beer near heading into the abandoned construction lot of
multi-evictions and mentioned previously in this trash. In a rare case of “not
wanting to get in trouble” the hash listened to the security guard who told us
we couldn’t go in so instead we ran across the street to behind the ice rink
where there was a beer check last week.
Circle:
Since we were constantly
worried that the hockey players would get mad at this group of retrobates
singing and drinking next to their ice piles we started with a whisper circle,
thought we slowly realized that they cared about as much about our revelry as
they did about the Oilers training camp. We called the hares into circle and
told them they should’ve used more flour and chalk. I tried to control circle
by threatening private parties with Gameldansk, but that kinda backfired as
people were requesting the shots! Oh well, we moved onto FRB (5 inch?) and FBI
(Whores Box) and DFL (Spunk) – who in a very weird way maintained eye contact
and answered all my questions about if she was lonesome during trail. After
than Uder Whore demented the very delightful virgin who was asked a lot of
amazing questions most of which I forget because of an increasing amount of
Gameldansk and Malort cursing through my veins. The virgin was and we’re
desperate (and she found out about the hash by read these!!) so we’ll take her.
We then called in the Chaos Muppets of evening Escort and Flagpole and we all
drank more Gameldansk. We then called in the transplant (Just Dumb – his actual
name) who has recently moved from Begjin; he sliently stalked us at the bar
last week but decided not to come to trail (bad idea) but decided to come this
week instead (good idea). He says he’ll keep cuming back! There were then a lot
of accusations – I remember anyone where “sketchy” clothes, racist attire, and
others, but my steady diet of Gameldansk was starting to catch up with me and
Falmon was giving me “finish this now eyes” so we called in birthdays – it’s
Escorts! – and then swang low and ate surprisingly good pizza.
On – Gameldansk – On
-Wiki
Annoucements:
BH3 AGM – Saturday
October 13th, 2pm. Details to come. If you want to volunteer for
misman talk to Falmon or Marbles.
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