Monday, October 29, 2018

A very spoopy Halloweekend hash

What: A very spoopy Halloweekend hash
Hares: Buttler and ghost
Bag car: Also ghost
Pack: Sex: The Final Frontier, Shits and Ladders, O'Boner, Just Django, Cuntcussion, Fellowship of the Cock Ring, PoPo Peepshow, Bottom Wrangler, Testicular Mechanics, Waxxx Off, Whores Box, Friar Fuck, Just Joshua, and a surprise appearance by Not Dead Yet

I got to Davis late and immediately crossed paths with Buttler, who was gimping around the street with his cane, laying marks. I believe this to be a new record for the earliest Buttler has been gay at one of his own trails. All I'm saying is, the fact that he has to use a cane isn't all bad.

When I got to Sligo, I was immediately greeted by the sight of STFF in full r*cist regalia from the race he'd run that morning, including a bib and finisher's medal. He told me that Whore's Box -- who had also run the race that morning -- had suggested that they wear their hardware to the hash; however, it turned out to be a long con, as she showed up in normal non-r*cist attire.

Before long, we finished our beers and headed to chalk talk in a parking lot near Sligo -- a location that was about to become intimately familiar to us. We shared our names and our ideas for the spookiest hash (answers I remember: being on a Wiki trail, being on a trail with Bottom Wrangler, a trail that doesn't cure your hangover, being put on the spot in chalk talk and not having an answer ready). Shits also told us that Buttler had warmed him that there would be an unusual mark, but Shits couldn't remember what the mark actually was or how it worked. Awesome! Well prepared as always, we began trail.

We did the monster mash
Trail looped through Davis and back around the block, ending up with us almost exactly where we had started, but with the addition of a big bag of wine right across the street from the Discodome. We yelled in the general direction of Disco's window until she came out to join us, carrying a mug of tea. I swear I don't even know who she is any more.

Given the small size of pack and the large size of the baggo, our progress was very slow. Eventually the parents in the playground immediately next to us started giving us side-eye, so we thought it best to move on. We stashed the rest of the baggo in bag car -- which hadn't moved -- and then followed the true trail mark across the street. 

We ran through the side streets around Davis, admiring the houses that had actually put effort into their Halloween decorations, when we happened upon a slightly drunk Not Dead Yet taking clean laundry out of her car! She was wearing flats and had been planning on getting food to offset her drunkenness, but we were able to talk her out of that practical decision almost immediately, and she joined us on trail.

We continued meandering through the streets, stopping for a view check in front of what used to be the house Easy had lived in, though now it's just a big hole in the ground. There was a smart/stupid that directed us underground through the Davis station or aboveground through the square; after a quick journey on to the bikeway, we took a couple rights and suddenly found ourselves back in the parking lot where we had started for the first beer check.

It was a graveyard smash
We again yelled for Disco and, again, she came out and joined us. We drank cold beer and speculated about whether all of the beer checks on trail would be in the same parking lot. Buttler hobbled off again, and we speculated on whether we would be doing him a favor if we snared him and then took over laying trail for him.

After we did damage to the beer and the giant baggo, we craniumed out on a scenic tour through Somerville, including a view check for the largest tree in Somerville ("big wood," as someone so cleverly quipped).

Trail took us back to the Alewife bikeway, where we found the mark that Shits had forgotten to explain to us: an eagle/false split. The bikeway was fenced off for construction, and eagle trail continued over the fence and beyond, speculating wonder as to how our crippled hare was able to lay it. As a less-than-proficient fence jumper, I turned around and headed back to the nearest check. We soon met up with the eagles and then with the hare, for a second beer check next to the bikeway in a construction zone.

At the beer check, we proceeded to make the dumbest possible decisions; after several harriettes (YHS included) squeezed through a gap in the chained fence to find a corner to pee in, O'Boner marched up to the fence and showed us that the chain was not actually fastened to anything, and that the gate could be readily opened. Some other smartass pointed out that there was a port-a-potty just down the street. But as Wiki will tell you, I never pee in a port-a-potty when there's a dumpster nearby, so #noragrets.

It caught on in a flash
We were completely clueless and bewildered as to where trail could end. Just kidding; it went to the Buttler pad. 

We circled in Buttler's backyard/Django's bathroom, trying not to wonder too much about whether *all* of the brown stuff getting on our shoes was just mud. We fucked up several songs and changed some songs to other songs halfway through. We accused the r*cists in our midst of being r*cist, gave an honor down-down to NDY for joining us mid-trail, accused everyone who's ever had a boner (or a lady-boner) at trail (I am not sure why, but it made sense at the time), accused anyone who didn't wear a costume to a Halloweekend trail, and other stuff that I forget. We attempted to put the baggo out of its misery but, despite a lot of heavy lifting by Shits, were not successful.

Then, after failed attempts to cut hash religion short, we adjourned to go inside the house, where we watched pizza porn (why? I don't know!) and Buttler made us steak tips and potatoes. All in all, it was a successful hash.


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