June 23 Hash Trash

Hares: Dribbles, Topless Barbie

Bag Car: E = I'm a Douche

Pack: Clitoris Notes, Cums Like Clockwork, Extra Terresticle, Fellowship of the Cockring, Full Frontal Fireball, Just Ali, Just Harry, Just Joel, Just Remy, Mudslut, No Man on the Moon, Panic at the Dildo, Po Po Peepshow, Sketchy Ho, Snatchchat, Spunk in the Trunk, Testicular Mechanics, The Buttler Hit It, Virgin Ethan, Virgin Jennie, Virgin Kagan

Pre-lube: Cambridge Common

Beer Check: Riverside Press Park

Shot Check: Vail Ct Parking Lot

On-in: Cambridge Common

After the heat and rain from earlier this week subsided, the pack expected a treat at last night's Cambridge-based trail, but instead were given tricks from the hares. It started when trail turned into Harvard Yard before leading to a locked egress. Sketchy examined the lock and felt confident that it was Dribbles' bike lock. Not a big deal, there were plenty of other exits to leave from. We picked up the trail and found ourselves joined by a skateboarding virgin named Matt. Picking up a virgin on trail--a treat! But after singing one of our lewd songs at a song check, virgin Matt peaced out--a trick. Then trail continued over one of the bridges into Allston--a treat! Before counting back to the Cambridge side--a trick. But wait, another bridge to cross over the Charles on. Another count back? Not this time! An excuse to do a riverside death march before crossing back over to Cambridge at the next bridge down? Tricked again. On the back half of trail pack found the shot check, treats! Except for Clockwork's nip where the label was completely worn off, as if it had been left in a pants pocket on laundry day, tricked.

At circle, Snatchchat left early because she was scootering home, and wanted to get back while it was still light out. Comments on trail included not enough locked gates and not enough port-a-potties. I was the FRB while No Man and Just Ali were co-FBIs. Buttler was our DFL, but that was because he was distracted by the turkey in Harvard Yard. It would not be his only brush with wildlife on the night. Clockwork drank for his June birthday, then it was onto the virgins. Virgin Kagan (like the Supreme Court Justice) was brought by Clit Notes, except Kagan called him Clitoris Notes. Virgin Ethan found us on the internet, and Panic at the Dildo brought Virgin Jennie. Po Po led the dementing and asked the virgins what advice they would give to a bachelorette for her wedding, to which they answered do not clench, bring a friend, and have fun. They weren't worthy, but we took them anyway.

During accusations, Panic at the Dildo accused Just Remy of having a dildo in his backpack. It was one of those push tubes that you compress to squirt liquid out of, and it was indeed shaped like a penis. He struggled to fill it with beer, at which point Just Ali, who has professional experience with specula, helped show him how to handle his insertion tool. He drank his down-down from the dildo tube to all of our amusement. Remy hadn't hashed for two years, but if he sticks around this time, keep this story in mind for his naming.

I was then accused for sprinting to the shot check, but that's because I had inside info that there were some decent shots in there. Testicular accused Just Ali of trying to recruit the skater boy before saying see you later boy. Then Just Remy, Douche, and Clit Notes drank for backsliding. Now remember Buttler and the wildlife? At some point in circle he saw two hares in the darkness, and Buttler being Buttler, he gave chase around Cambridge Common. So we accused him of hare coitus interruptus. Clitoris Notes was then accused of bringing an anthrax expert to trail, which gives us something to ask Virgin Kagan about next time we see him.

Just Ali was accused of alcohol abuse at the beer check--she only had half her beer before we were on-out, but that was really my fault for having a conversation with her that was so engaging she forgot she was holding a drink. So I joined her for the down-down. As did Buttler for some reason. The hares were accused of saying there wouldn't be any tit checks or dick checks on trail, then laying them anyway. (I guess that's one trick that turned out to be a treat.) Lastly, Buttler proxy drank for Snatchchat's early departure.

Announcements on the night included Dribbles' Beantown trail on Sunday starting from the Beacon Hill Pub, a trail on July 14 that will be exclusively laid in hash sitapedes, and antibuffett. On a personal note, honor to all the veteran hashers I overheard welcoming and getting to know our 7 combined Virgins and Justs.

June 16 Hash Trash

License to Kong Trail

Hare: Quarter Mile Queer

Bag Car: 5 Inch Penalty

Pack: Chunderelli Chuderelli, Cums Like Clockwork, Dimebag Daddy, Extra Terresticle, Fellowship of the Cockring, Full Frontal Fireball, Hand Job for Humanity, Just Ali, Just Joel, O'Boner, Patron Taint, Po Po Peepshow, Shits N Ladders, Sir Menage-a-lot, Sketchy Ho, Snatchchat, Testicular Mechanics, The Buttler Hit It, Tinder Dick, Wikipedophilia

Pre-lube: Hong Kong

Beer Check: Lederman Park

On-in: Galvin Memorial Park

I guess that when you're halfway through HongKongukah, everything starts resembling a scorpion bowl. Or at least you'd think that was the case had you witnessed last night's circle, where Wiki and a few others attempted to weave scorpion bowl references into every down-down song. Does anyone even know what goes into a scorpion bowl? Does it even matter? According to Yankee Pay $5 More, the alcohol is premixed according to a secret family recipe, then combined with a blend of fruit juices. Ignorance is bliss, right?

Trail was a fine urban jaunt around the West End of Boston. There was a healthy share of count backs (including a CB1 at City Hall), a few view checks, and one of those angel wings paintings for the Instagrams. Pack was exceptionally speedy on this trail--you really were either among the FRBs, or getting swept up by Fellowship at the checks, there was no in between.

At circle, Topless Barbie autowanked over to join pack. She tried to claim FBI, but that distinction went to Just Ali. Testicular was FRB and Butter was DFL. Barbie and Shits were accused of sweat test failures. Then our visitors Sir Menage-a-lot of San Francisco and Patron Taint from Long Island Lunatics did their down-downs, with Taint singing us the (now defunct) Knickerbocker H3 song and giving us an underpants show. O'Boner, Shits, and Cums Like Clockwork drank for having June birthdays, while Tinder Dick did a down-down for their three-year hash analversary.

At this point, Snatchchat accused O'Boner of tech on trail, but it was because she was looking up a song about scorpion bowls (as opposed to making one up), which she (mercifully) sang on-key. Buttler accused O'Boner of not completing her down-down, but that ended up being a false accusation, so he drank. Menage-a-lot and Just Ali were accused of layering up at the on-in, then Testicular, Buttler, and Just Joel were accused of putting trash in the recycling (or was it the other way around?). Shits et al drank for non-hash attire, Po Po for not peeing at the porta potty because it was too far, and Shits and Sketchy for being left at the karaoke altar.

Shits told us the story of how his name was called for karaoke while the pack was leaving chalk talk, and how he made eye contact with hashers as they left for trail leaving him to sing all by himself at the pre-lube. Just picture Shits giving you a sad puppy dog face begging you to stick around to hear him sing, but abandoning him to do trail instead. From his perspective, it was a sad story. Unfortunately while telling this story, he used his nerd name, so he drank for that.

The last story of the night concerned the first hash sitapede, where after everyone stood back up, O'Boner spotted a small puddle on the ground. Apparently one of our San Francisco hashers accidentally peed on the other one while in the seated position, so they both drank (I understand that there are pelvic floor exercises to help with incontinence).

The night ended with a round of announcements: On-after at the Hong Kong (duh), Barbie and Dribbles haring next Wednesday in Harvard Square, there's an email list on the website, pay O'Boner hash cash, Shortest Night Dumbest Trail this Friday, and a finish the beer trail that won't end until all the beer is gone.

June 9 Hash Trash

69 on 6/9 Trail

Hare: Extra Terresticle

Pack: Angry Crotch, C*ntcussion, Dribbles, Edward Sissyhands, Frosty the F*ckman, Full Frontal Fireball, Handjob for Humanity, Holy Dumpster Fire, Luva Lamp, Mudslut, No Man on the Moon, Puker Blooper, Quarter Mile Queer, Shits and Ladders, Sir Menage-a-tw*t, Sketchy Ho, Snatchchat, Spunk in the Trunk, Swedish Eagle, Testicular Mechanics, The Buttler Hit It, Topless Barbie, Virgin Charlotte, Virgin Rose

Pre-lube: Columbus Memorial Park

Beer Check: Extra Topless’s Backyard

On-in: Columbus Memorial Park

It feels a little self-serving, writing the hash trash to my own trail. I mean, I can keep in all the good parts of trail, and leave out the shitty parts, right? Also, aside from the beer check, my reporting will be second-hand, so I’ll tell the story of how Sketchy acted sketchy, then dive into the circle write up.

At the pre-lube we were joined by Hoover McSuck N F*ck, who graced us with his presence since we were starting down the street from his place. He told me ahead of time that he wasn’t running trail, but apparently didn’t tell anyone else, which is relevant. After chalk talk, Hoover started walking home, at which point Sketchy, who was running late, joined him thinking that he was on the walkers’ trail. They went to his place and enjoyed a beer, which led to Sketchy thinking that he was hosting the beer check. It wasn’t until some time passed before she asked him when pack was getting there, and he told her he wasn’t doing the rest of trail, so Sketchy finished her beer and continued on toward the actual beer check. Pack, which wanted to wait for Sketchy and Hoover (remember, nobody else knew he wasn’t doing trail), turned the beer check into a two beer check, before they gave up waiting and left for the second leg. I started driving to the on-in where I intercepted Sketchy and told her pack departed, so she about faced and walked back to the park. At the on-in, pack saw Sketchy, but not Hoover (again, nobody knew he was going home), and well, now there’s a narrative that if you invite Sketchy to your place for a beer, you might never be seen or heard from again.

In circle, Buttler and Sketchy were the FRB and FBI, while Spunk was DFL. We met Handjob who transplanted from San Francisco and Sir Menage-a-tw*t who was visiting from San Francisco. In the wildest of coincidences, Handjob moved to Acton and Menage-a-tw*t was visiting family in Acton. Super weird connection there. Handjob met her husband at the hash "by the keg," and he's newly working in Cambridge, so we can expect to meet him sometime soon. Snatchchat brought Virgin Rose and Handjob brought Virgin Charlotte. They gave the standard virgin answers to our questions, acted out their favorite barnyard animals having sex (I think I heard sheep noises), and were welcomed by the pack. Luva Lamp drank for lost shit: his 2019 Anthrax giveaway that had been in my basement throughout the entire pandemic, and Fireball did a down-down for her lost shit: her favorite grocery bag. C*ntcussion, Sweagle, and Butt Pug drank for serving Malort at the bonus shot check on their stoop. Many drank for the backsliders down-down.

Around this time, a cop drove by, but didn't stop. I pointed out that we were on a dead end street and they'd be driving past us again, which they did, and again did not stop. Phew. Everyone who spotted a 69 reference (like the bus lane on Mystic Valley operating from 6-9 a.m., or gas being $2.69 a gallon) on trail did a down-down to Sweet 69 (sang in the key of Sweet Caroline). Angry Crotch and Shits drank for being new Medford residents, and Sketchy drank for being able to see into their kitchen (as if she wasn't sketchy enough). Snatchchat drank for pooping at the beer check, which I was going to let slide until another hasher asked me if I was letting her defile my bathroom. I drank for a 69 trail on 6/9 on a hump day to a song Sissyhands sang about having three balls, and then drank for having solid non-beer options (cider and two kinds of hard seltzer). No Man and Testicular were accused of aerating the Malort, C*ntcussion for sending Sweagle home early to get her pizza, and Menage-a-tw*t for some story about frozen pizza back in SF. Nobody accused Buttler of making grilled cheese sandwiches for everyone during circle, but that was a thing.

As for announcements, Moon trail on Friday, Shortest Night Dumbest Trail on 6/18, Hongkongukah, Beantown H3 on Sunday in Charlestown, and Sweagles Midsummer trail on 6/30.