10/10 Trash

What: The 10/10 trail

When: see above

Hares: Blondie McFucksalot and Cuntcussion

Bag car: Marbleous Asshole

Pack: Bottom Wrangler, Gnome, STFF, Shits, Five Inch, Easy as 123, Vaginacologist, Sketchy, Gimp, Shits, Dribbles, Dry Hose, Topless Barbie, Testicular Mechanics, Knuckles Deep, Tinder Dick, Bodies in Lotion, Spank Me, Cummysticks, Luva Lamp, Sweagle, Chunderellie, Falmon, Goat, a visitor (who will be here for AGM too!), Just Ruth, Just Jimmy**, a couple virgins

Trail got off to a promising start when it was found that the announced start location was, in fact, closed. (Blondie swears she called the venue earlier in the week and they said they'd be open -- like that stops us from blaming the hares.) Instead, we crammed our loud, strangely dressed selves into Hopsters, where we continued the longstanding tradition of getting in the way of waitstaff and annoying other patrons.

Leg 1: A seal of approval

Eventually, we decided to GTFO and look for more beer. Trail got off to a strong start, with a long checkback toward South Station; after we ran back, we found that trail went over the bridge toward the Financial District. 

We ran along the Greenway and the Harborwalk for a while; the hares seemed to have a loose understanding of arrows and/or directions, but fortunately there are only so many directions trail could plausibly go when the ocean is on one side of you. 

There was a song check next to the seals -- we tried and failed to think of a seal-related song or a song that was even tangentially related (ocean creatures, penguins, tuxedos??). We kept going and eventually found the first beer check, which was on a pier, with the smell of Buttler (who had hobbled to to the BC) wafting through the air...

Leg 2: Who let the dogs out?!

Trail turned and went in to the North End, where we proceeded to piss off the locals in about every way imaginable. An older woman yelled at us because she was walking on the sidewalk and we kept running around her, I guess...? Seems like she was confused about the function of sidewalks.

Trail went uphill, obviously, until we found a check at the very top of the hill. We checked every direction -- or so we thought -- and finally realized that trail actually went down some stairs and through (dun dun dun) a DOG PARK.

I was not a frontrunner at this point, but from what I understand, hashers going through the dog park messed up the double-gate system somehow, and someone's dog made a run for it. Apparently STFF ultimately caught the dog before it managed to run into any intersections. By the time I arrived at the dog park, there were just a lot of angry dog owners yelling about how totally inappropriate our behavior was. (And I mean, in this case, they probably weren't wrong...)

I didn't feel like getting yelled at, so I ran around the dog park and rejoined pack. There was a shot check next to the skating rink (something with cranberry juice, I think?) and then another long checkback, this time across the bridge. Trail actually went across the locks and to a beer check at a playground in North Point Park, where thankfully there were no children for us to accidentally set loose.

Leg 3: You're the only 10 I see

We felt pretty confident about where trail was ending, and craniumed in the general direction of Courtside, where -- gasp! -- we saw familiar chalk marks outside.

On-In

We were provided with the finest of beers and began circle. Buttler, who is impressively dedicated to being Beer Bitch, limped around with pitchers to ensure no one went thirsty. We did the usual circle shit, got some visitors to sing us songs, called in backsliders, yadda yadda.

**Finally, after much deliberation, the RAs brought Just Jimmy into circle. It turns out that he's been c*ming to Boston hashes for a year and we haven't made it official yet. This makes since, given our collective fear of commitment, but we decided it was time to right that wrong. 

We asked for his most embarrassing sexual moment -- he told a story involving coitus-temporarily-interruptus in the backseat -- and somehow, we also found that he had gone to some weird sex event in New York with his girlfriend and her friend, and both the ladies had brought dildos, but not to use on themselves or each other...

We pondered several names, but when someone suggested Strap On, Strap Off, it was a clear winner. And thus, Just Jimmy is no more, and we have our newest named hasher.

Announcements

10/13 -- AGM! Show up to tell Marbles and Falmon what a shitty job they've done all year.

10/14 -- AGM Fat Boy. Put your life in the hands of the new idiots who agreed to run this thing.

10/27 -- E4B in Beverly

December -- Antibuffet! Sign up! It's a fun time.

xoxo,

Shart