Yeaster Hash

Yeaster Hash!

Hare: Udder Whore

Pre-lube: Globe Bar and Café

Pack: Famine, CPA, Plus 2 Coonass, Goat Throat, 2 male virgins (Brian and Alexis?), PSA, Cum Ear, Bouy’s, Five Inch Penalty, Sex the Final Frontier, Pulp Friction (transplant), Po Po Peep Show, Fellowship of the C*ock Ring, Douche, Double Bag/Just Jeff, others I forgot?

Bag Car: Bend Over Mommy

The Jews of the hash and everyone else who got out of Easter early or made the excellent decision to choose hash family over all else gathered at Globe around 3pm this past Sunday. I was thrilled to discover that Globe has $5 brunch cocktails so your scribe (Orgasm Famine) was happy and tipsy when we trooped out in search of bag car. Thanks to parking being challenging near Copley the walk to bag car might have been longer than some of the legs of trail. Coonass stepped up to RA since the regular suspects were missing. He led us through introductions and explained to pack and the virgins that Udder had elected to subject us to a Cajun trail. We were warned to expect wine on trail, Easter candy, and of course every mark was a check. We ran off and quickly found a song check where we sang a short but enthusiastic version of Jesus can’t go hashing since, really, what other option did we have?

Leg 1- Running 2-3 miles within a square half-mile

From that point on I would describe the first leg of trail as a clusterfuck. I can’t count the number of times we got lost. The wind tunnels of Boston were cold so I tried to keep moving but that really just meant I continuously ran falses. I am pretty sure each mark was at least a block apart, regardless of the size of the block. For some reason our hare seemed to think hashers are willing to run really far in possibly the wrong direction over and over again in search of Cajun marks. Well don’t worry we proved her wrong. Many of us stopped checking all together and waited for a few racist ass-holes to call us onward. Even those of us who checked often gave up on a direction before finding the next mark. Pack slowly circled their way around Copley through many an ally way. At one point the chalk turned black which caused 5 inch to miss a tit check while scouting. I guess he really did not want to see tits because that got us lost for a solid 10 minutes. We eventually made it over to Comm Ave and it was around that time that the walkers either got really bored at the beer check or got worried we were never going to make it because the beer check location was revealed to some of pack and we started running straight there. We finally found beer, walkers, orange food, peeps, and the fearful hare under the overpass between Kenmore and Hynes. It was an Easter miracle that we didn’t lose either of the Virgins.

Leg 2 – Never out of sight of a mark

At the first beer check someone must have put the fear of the Easter Bunny in the hare because the second leg of trail had a mark every 5 feet. I did not hear a single hasher complain about that, which is probably good, because after the first leg of trail pack likely would have torn anyone who complained about having too many marks limb from limb. We ran towards Kenmore, found a GH just past it, and sang about interesting things to do at a ballpark in front of Fenway.  From there we wound towards and into the fens. We saw the hare standing with a bag of wine near a war memorial and we all paused to pass around the bago at the wine check as the hare scampered off. Someone made a joke about the blood of Christ having turned white as we drank the white wine. After finishing the wine and giving the hare more time than we probably should have we ran off after her through the fens. We wound out of the fens, back into the fens, and ended up at the big structure near the middle where the moon masquerade ball beer check was.

On-In - Where we hung out in buttsex forest for a time

Due to the wonderful prevalence of marks on the second leg of trail pack beat bag car to the on-in. We hung out mourning the lack of beer and slowly realizing we had arrived at on-in not just another beer check. When Bend Over Mommy arrived we grabbed, bags, beer, and pizza (Shout out to Goat for making pizza happen!) from the car and huddled as close to the back of the structure as possible to try to avoid being visible from the street. Someone declared pizza before circle just in case we ended up getting broken up by the cops. After eating a few pieces of pizza we sang in our shitty hare, she performed her down-down, and led us in a rousing round of el-camino. Five inch sang a verse I had never heard before which I wish I still remembered. Once Udder left circle Coonass requested a few comments on trail. He walked around circle and half-bullied people into sharing their thoughts, which included not enough marks, not enough black chalk, not enough time spent in ally 422, not enough Jesus, and not enough candy. Udder and CPA volunteered as dementresses to help our virgins lose their purity.  They both claimed to be good at math but one of them was way too good at it and instantly declared that the square root of 69 is 8.3. Seriously who just knows that? We informed him he was wrong and the square root is really ate something. I want to say both Virgins said they were backwoods but I might be making that up. When someone held a dollar bill up in front of Udders crotch and the virgins were asked what that was one of the virgins responded with something great about a Washington being over a Bush. Think about it. We told him that was a great response but we generally call it all you can eat for under a dollar. Both Virgins made themselves cum to the hash so volunteer sponsors demonstrated down-downs and we sang the virgins their own down-down song. They properly inverted their vessels over their craniums and arose Virgins no more. Just like Jesus! It was sometime around then that a few bike cops arrived on the scene. We all hastily hid our beer and pretended to be a running group that was just stretching. The personal trainer part of me feels the need to point out that most of the attempts to stretch looked rather pathetic. We drink way better than we stretch. Goat offered the cops some pizza, which they declined, but they seemed ok with us. We thought perhaps they had not seen the beer until as they were riding away they told us to hide the beer and finish quickly. Well hashers know how to finish ;) We re-formed circle, called friendly cops an Easter miracle and continued. The transplant was called in to sing us a song of his people, or show us a body part or provide a joke. He went for the triple play as he sang to us about how White house in DC are all assholes and then showed us a bodypart which I believe our RA informed him was also a joke. Can’t say BH3 is inhospitable. There were a couple accusations. Jews were called in for drinking beer during Passover. 5 Inch was called in for missing the tit check and then again for not running far enough down an alley to find the next mark. I admitted that I gave up on that ally with him so I joined him and drank for that. There were more accusations and then some announcements about Marathon. We drank more, swang low, and then went to Ramrod.

On-Afer – Where else could we go from the fens?

We went to Ramrod en masse. Pitchers were purchased and then more pitchers were purchased. It got late for a Sunday. The bartender told me we made his night. The next morning those who were not there asked if we ever made it out of Ramrod because nothing was heard from anyone till late morning since we were all too busy regretting our Sunday night Ramrod decisions to communicate with the world.

On-Easter Miracles-On

-Orgasm Famine

Announcements:

Saturday 4/11: PooF H3 Trail in Milton

Sunday 4/12: BH3 Trail

Monday 4/13: RI H3 Trail

Tuesday 4/14: Beaver Marathon Pre-lube 6:30HST

Wednesday 4/15: Taco Marathon pre-lube 6:30HST

Thursday 4/16: Ball-buster Marathon pre-lube 6:30HST

Friday 4/17: C*mbridge beer mile and pub crawl 6:30HST

Saturday 4/18: Disney Princess Marathon Trail!

Sunday 4/19: Boston Moon fat boy 2:30HST