Furry Hash

Hares: Maid of Honor, An*l Beads
Bag Car: C*mlocker
RA: Necrophiliac Jack

Pack: Brigham Tongue, Vagetarian, Better Late Than Pregnant, Tampon Jelly, High An*s, Bring Out the Gimp, Octop*ssy, Mooseknuckles, N*pples Erectus, Necrophiliac Jack, The Buttler Hit It, Catheter the Great, Nice T*ts, Bleeps, Sweeps, and Creeps, Bend Over Mommy, Goat Throat, e=I'm a Douche, One Girl Two Cups, My Chemical Homance, Schindler's Fist, Pbvzzzzzz, F*cks All, Just Rebecca, Just Susan, Dirty Latte Sanchez, Tw*t My Mom, Jamaican Me Cum

Latecummer: Just Melvin (showed up at or around the first beer check and took his usual place as FRB)
Wangers: Beat By A Girl, Dude Where's My Virginity, Krusty the Meat Miser, P*bic Service Announcement, Spunk In The Trunk

Pre-lube: Charlie's Kitchen, Harvard Square, Cambridge
On-after: The Pub, Ball Square, Somerville
Weather: Clear, sunny, and cold (20s)

Amazingly the entire pack wasn't wasted at the start thanks to the slaughter masquerading as a Patriots game and not enough parfaits. Gagh, well there's always next year.

Given that this was a furry hash, some people came well prepared. Mooseknuckles had moose ears (nice!). The hares, of course, were hares (haha), Tw*t My Mom was a bloody version of the Cookie Monster, e=I'm a Douche was a gorilla, and Bring Out the Gimp wore a yellow chicken outfit brought by Maid of Honor because Necrophiliac Jack refused to wear it. Guess he must have been concerned about his appearance that day because he had gotten a haircut and complained that none of the people who mentioned it actually said he looked good. Octop*ssy asked Douche if he had a head, which was hilarious on many levels.

Goat Throat was visiting and apparently confused red cellophane with fur, as he was wearing a copy of his attire for the Seacoast Red Dress run, namely he wrapped himself in red cellophane and called it a day. I really hope there are pictures of this on Hashspace because it was probably the most weather-inappropriate attire I have ever seen. Also on our way to bag car a civilian told Goat that his shoes didn't go with his dress – although I am hard pressed to think of shoes that would go with that dress.

I am also compelled to note that BBAG showed up with a standing lamp for Catheter the Great, who announced she was not taking it on trail. But it was a nice lamp.

Bag car was parked on JFK but since no one knew exactly where on JFK we walked the long way around the block in the freezing cold weather. In the process of getting to bag car we found a check so after an extremely abbreviated chalk talk we headed immediately to the check. About half the pack apparently found the right trail but either didn't tell the rest of us or, more likely, we couldn't hear them due to the lovely sounds of Harvard Square. The rest of us tried to find trail, heading towards Harvard Square proper. We didn't find trail but some Japanese tourists took our picture.

Eventually we did find trail but were quite confused to find a mark pointing the wrong way. This was one thing leading up to the check we found but entirely another once we were on-on and heading in the proper direction. Heh. Anyway trail led down a few blocks and back up across Mount Auburn and up to the Harvard campus. Just inside the gates there was a song check where we sang a few verses of "Yogi."

Inevitably, trail led up the stairs, past the libraries and through what is apparently called the Sever Quadrangle. Less inevitably, trail did not go up the art museum ramp but instead just went around the corner on Cambridge Street. After running past the library yard pack somehow got lost even though the marks were fine. Eventually we found where we were going, saw a BN, and from there it was a quick run into the first beer check which was outside An*l Beads' place.

At this beer check the hares reported that they had already had their photos taken with an Indian family and a cop. Wonder what the cop thought about two hares running around on a night other than Halloween. Buttler had managed to find a very large frozen cucumber on trail, and Necrophiliac Jack was heard saying "I just got shanked by chalk, and not in a good way." As opposed to getting shanked [by chalk] in a good way I suppose.

After quickly drinking our beers (hey it was cold), we headed out – crazy me I hit a F, but the rest of the pack went the right way. Due to this I was near the back of the pack when entering Lincoln Park and encountered some guy laughing maniacally at us from 100 feet away. At first I thought this was another hasher but I guess it was just some random guy but he was literally cackling at us – loudly – he sounded evil. Not even kidding.

Running away from the scary-*ss guy we continued up and around through the streets of Somerville. When crossing, I think Highland Ave., I heard one of the funnier comments on trail: "The chicken went that way and hasn't come back yet." Well, it was funny at the time. Right around this time Buttler found a Christmas wreath on trail which he wore the rest of the time. Kind of furry, I suppose.

The promised urban shiggy was in the form of going through a fence and along live train tracks before veering off the tracks and running past an abandoned and half-collapsed International Paper Company factory where we had our second beer check. The hares clearly had the most fun today because they ran into some crazy lady who was going off about how much she loved rabbits. To snuggle, or to eat … or both, perhaps! The hares ran away before being subjected to any of this.

After the beer check trail was pretty well a straight shot to The Pub. Oh, silly me, no, the on-in wasn't inside on a freezing cold day instead it was in the parking lot across the street by the train tracks. In the hares' defense I suppose that with the NFL playoffs on it was probably hard to find a bar that would allow our shenanigans.

It was far too cold for me to take any sort of notes so apologies for the sparseness of the recounting of circle. The hares sang us "My Girl's a Vegetable" and pretty much right when that was done the pack got really cold.

I do remember that there was a social for everyone not in costume (which was at least half the pack).

Buttler accused Bloody P*ssy (who dat?) of losing her dildo on trail and produced what was at this point a broken frozen cucumber. Lovely …

We tried to name Just Melvin (who really does need a name) but were far too cold to think of anything creative. Which is good because I was too cold to write any suggested names down. He was tossed back and the pack went through quite probably the fastest version of "Swing Low" in recorded history, much to the apparent disgust of the RA, who was probably too cold himself much to care that he lost control.

I had to leave just after circle so I'm not sure what debauchery went on at The Pub at the on-after.

I am now going to get on my soapbox and implore winter hares: Unless your trail is long (like over 5 miles), consider having only one beer check. Beer checks are cold, we lose our warmup, and there's less money to spend drinking at the on-after where it's warm. Just my $.02.

- Brigham Tongue

Pickup Hash

Hares: Necrophiliac Jack, 5 Inch Penalty, Shawsk*nk
RA: Shawsk*ank
Pack: Bend Over Mommy, Dribbles, Just Sam, Brigham Tongue, Octop*ssy, Just Melvin, The Buttler Hit It, e=I'm a Douche, C*umlocker, Virgin Desiree
Wangers: Vagetarian, Jamaican Me C*m, Stick It To the Bros, Bondage Barbie, Twat My Mom, I Eat Tea Bags
Pre-lube & On-In: Sligo in Davis Square
Weather: Clear and cold (20s)

A pickup hash, in case you are not aware, is where the first hare runs until he or she gets caught, then the snare becomes the hare. The unfortunate part of this is that the FRBs become the hare, thus leading to perhaps a longer hangover hash than people were anticipating. Oh, also this was a Cajun trail.

So Jack walks into Sligo looking like death warmed over, or at least someone who had a really, really, REALLY good time at the Twelve Bars of Hashmas. Unfortunately for him, because he was hoping no one would show up, a bunch of crazy hashers did indeed make the trek.

Eventually Jack realized that the sooner he got started the sooner we'd be done and went off to go lay trail. Eventually the rest of us decided it might be about time to go follow him, so after a quick chalk talk (we *did* have a virgin after all) and were off. We ran through Davis Square but probably for the first time ever, did not run through the T station but instead headed up Holland Street before cutting west and running through the neighborhoods. At one point along the bike path we hit a check and one direction had a whole bunch of snow plows out so we sincerely hoped trail did not go there as the marks would be gone. Luckily, it did not.

Trail wound up to, and through, St. Paul's Cemetery by route 16. On the far side of this, on Broadway, 5 Inch Penalty finally caught Jack who had stopped to walk. And a good thing, too, at the rate we were going we probably never would have caught him!

5 Inch led us down Broadway back into Somerville. So we figured at this point, this being a hangover hash and all, that trail would lead back down Holland in a relatively straight manner back to Sligo. Boy were we wrong! I'm not exactly sure where we went but we wound up running north through the hills over to, and through, the Tufts campus. At this point C*mlocker had a particularly bad hash crash but, like Wes Welker (too soon?), she made it up and was able to walk. Unlike Wes Welker, she was able to run so it was all good.

Shawsk*nk snared 5 Inch on College Ave very near Sligo, so her part of trail lasted all of about 5 minutes but was notable because we doubled the distance we ran by not paying attention when trail turned, and trail led us through a parking lot and courtyard with a door that I at first couldn't open. Happily I figured it out because the fence didn't look sturdy enough to climb.

For some reason the pack was less than enthusiastic in our singing. I think we were all shellshocked that the trail was more than about a mile! Virgin Desiree either did not remember or did not want to share her first sexual experience. I'm not really sure which of those options I prefer. Anyway as a result her sponsor Octop*ssy had to share (and demonstrate) her favorite sexual position which happens to be reverse cowgirl. Excellent choice Octop*ssy.

Anyway, accusations:

1. Jack for technology on trail (Buttler and I joined him as we all had YakTrax)
2. E=I'm a Douche for being himself (best accusation ever!)
3. Just Sam for sitting in circle (ha I should do a down-down right now for spelling sitting "citting" twice in a row, well it is about time to go to the gym and what workout is complete without beer??)
4. Octop*ssy for having a cranium cover on in circle while sponsoring a virgin (not such a good choice Octop*ssy)
5. C*mlocker for her hash crash
6. Social for everyone who didn't attend all 12 bars the night before
7. Social because the pack was not singing
8. Bros for jumping at the wrong verse of "Dinah"
9. Jamaican Me C*m for falsely accusing me of technology in circle when I was trying to take notes (one of these days I'll need to remember to bring paper and a pen hey…)
10. 5 Inch Penalty for eating yellow snow
11. The Buttler Hit It for thinking that U-N-C-L-E spells daddy
12. Virgin Desiree for wearing underwear (boxers) as outerwear
13. Bondage Barbie, Tw*t My Mom, & I Eat Tea Bags – latec*mmers
14. Me for accusing the accusations of being repetitive and boring and refusing to continue to record them
15. Shawsk*nk for prominently displaying her n*pples in circle (yes, she did keep her shirt on making the feat much more impressive)
16. Bros for leaving circle to watch football
17. Bros for not paying attention when he was being accused of leaving circle to watch football
18. Bros for hitting on the virgin (apparently his pickup line is "You'd make a good beer bitch." Ouch …)
19. Virgin Desiree for being scared of us (gee now I have to wonder WHY ….)

At this point we wrapped up circle and all went to get food from Anna's. Mmmm Anna's … oh yeah and more beer too. That's it for now – next up: The Furry Hash!

- Brigham Tongue