Tubthumping Hash

Tubthumping Hash

Hares: Blondie McF*cksalot & Marbleous Asshole

Bag Car: Wiki

Pack: 50ish of the prettiest people in Boston

What is a chumbawamba? That is the question Krusty asked us to answer when we gave our names and kennels before trail. For all that we heard many ideas of what it/he/she/they could be I remain as mystified as ever. Something about sex in a bathtub? A really old rabbit? A sober hasher? The most important thing we were informed of was that in honor of the tubthumping trail we would be presented with shot checks as the song dictates. As hashers departed chalk-talk they could be heard to recite “A whisky drink, a vodka drink, a cider drink, a lager drink” or something like that.

Trail went from BHP up into Beacon Hill to the distain and horror of the residents therein, who did not seem to appreciate my calls of on-on as I traversed their precious cobbled streets and narrow sidewalks. Eventually we started towards Gov. Center but followed marks in towards the courthouse where we found our first SC! The whisky drink was remarkably palatable so we polished it off and ran off in search of trail. However, trail was not to be found! I personally ran around lost for 5-10 minutes searching the paths by the courthouse, streets near Bowdoin T stop, and every side of the street for even one stray mark to encourage my direction. All in vain. Fortunately, eventually someone happened upon a Hash Sittapeed down towards the North end. I still don’t know how we were supposed to know to travel down that hill and across the giant intersection to get to it, but we were not too drunk yet so we managed it. After a successful Sittapeed we ran off towards and into the North end. At the site of the residence of the Knomy Coonass we found our second round of shots. Blue hatorade if I am not mistaken. From there we ran towards Hanover Street, through the parks full of famous stuff where we found some cans of cider hidden in a bush, through all the twisty turney alleyways and out towards the harbor near the skating rink. Since Wiki was bag car the call of Beer Near!!!!! was less bellowing than normal but thirsty hashers still seemed to get the message and pick up the pace.

We took in a beautiful sunset over the Zakim and the harbor as we sipped our (lager drink?) beverages and munched on orange food. The hares departed rather obviously towards the Charlestown bridge. A decent amount of time later we followed and wound through the locks to the dog park on the other side of the river where we found more Cider! At a Song check back up on the bridge we sang a little bit of El Camino before we continued on and somewhat quickly found ourselves at the secluded dog park across from the gas station just into Charlestown for the on-in!

There was some confusion getting all of pack through the gate and then we milled around a bit as we waited for beer and food to arrive. When it did Krusty immediately started circle and by calling the hares in to get on their knees. (hopefully not in dog shit) The comments on trail were pretty innocuous. Not enough shots? Too many shots? Shots that tasted too good? Not enough glitter ;) The hares kind of apologized for not singing us the tubthumping song before breaking into El Camino.

In a bold move Krusty then called in Just Allissa for an early circle naming. He told a story that my memory can’t possibly do justice to that had to do with her waving her arms about like hungry hungry hippo jaws and something about a dick? The name he proposed was hungry hungry dick ho which was med with rousing cheering from pack. After a slight pause in which nobody jumped in with another name idea Krusty began singing ‘Here’s to Hungry Hungry Dick Ho’ and pack joined in to make the name official. Hungry Hungry Dick Ho arose from her 69 second naming a true hasher forevermore. There was an FRB,FBI, DFL, maybe some backsliders, and all the normal stuff. We had visitors and transplants from all over the place. One of note. Krusty called in anybody who goes by the name of Goat. Goat Throat and a transplant who’s name includes Goat entered circle to face off.  Krusty asked pack what we should have them do to figure out who is the dominant Goat and then said perhaps a chugging contest would be unfair… someone, maybe Krusty?, suggested Goat Throat chug 2 beers instead of 1 to make it fair. Pack loved that idea so 3 the beers were prepared and the chugging commenced. Transplant Goat dutifully began chugging and looked to be doing a decent job but Goat throat downed the first can in a single 4 second gulp. He threw the discarded can down grabbed the second can and began to chug, for that one he did stop to breath or something but the pause was short lived. Krusty declared him the dominant Goat and both Goats returned to circle slightly drunker. There was a bit more to circle but since Anna’s taqueria buritto’s were awaiting us it was wrapped up moderately quickly. We swang low.

As we were inhaling food it was announced that there was a slip and slide. As hashers joyeously stripped down to whatever level they desired and ran, slid, and frolicked we learned that the slip and slide was covered in glitter. Surprise! Only hashers would think it’s a good idea to strip down and dive onto a thin piece of plastic over dog shit encrusted ground. We drank and got increasingly covered in glitter. My chest began to take on a scaled look. Public Service Announcement: When covered in glitter do not hug people who don’t want to be hugged. Eventually our drunken glittery brains realized it was to to get the fuck out and our glittery bodies entered ubers, lifts, and trains home.

ON-Did you shit glitter?-ON

-Famine