Boston H3 Marathon: Hashing Through Heaven to Hell

Boston H3 Marathon: Hashing Through Heaven to Hell Hash Trash 

Saturday April 16, 2022

Pre-lube: Lily P’s Fried Chicken and Oysters 

Beer Check 1: Paul Revere Park 

Beer Check 2: Gold Star Mothers Park 

On-in: Dante Alighieri Society of Massachusetts 

Hares: Angry Crotch, Blue Balls Matter, No Man on the Moon, Sh*ts and Ladders, Swedish Eagle, Testicular Mechanics 

Co-chairs: Blondie McF*cksalot, O’bone’R 

Pack: Many (Go to the event website and view the Who’s Cumming list, if you can still find it…) 

For the first time in three years, the Boston Hash was able to host its annual Marathon hash event, this time themed Hashing Through Heaven to Hell. This theme was a nod to the on-in venue–the Dante Alighieri Society of Massachusetts–for it was the Italian poet who penned the Divina Commedia, or the Divine Comedy. The story consists of three parts: Inferno, Purgatorio, and Paradiso, and tells the tale of Dante’s travels through hell, then purgatory, followed by heaven. Not sure what circle of hell he’d have met the hashers in, but if I had to guess, it would probably have been somewhere between the 6.9th one and the circle formed by a hash sitapede. 

Pack arrived at the pre-lube, Lily P’s Fried Chicken and Oysters, dressed as angels and devils and lined up for their giveaways, highlighted by the reversible red and white jersey. (We now have something to wear at the next Capture the Beer hash that will help us tell the two teams apart.) We had some drinks before we were summoned across the street for chalk talk, where we were briefed on the three marked trails–a ballbuster, an eagle, and a turkey. Eagle trail craniumed over the Longfellow Bridge through Beacon Hill toward the Boston Garden and over the Charlestown Locks before arriving at the first beer check at Paul Revere Park. The other trails were not too far behind. Well, not the ballbusters, they were actually way far behind. We paused for a little bit, consumed beverages, then meandered through Charlestown, past Bunker Hill Community College, and to the Gold Star Mothers Park where the hares greeted the FRBs with still warm McDonald’s French Fries. After the second beer check, it was a quick jog to the on-in. 

After a quick dinner, the RAs started circle in the brightly lit function hall. Comments on trail included awesome, boring, too long, too short, not enough ball busters, too much ball busting, not enough turkey trail, too much turkey trail, and many other comments that I didn’t get around to writing down. FRBs and FBIs included sKooter, Roofie, Peepers, Udder, and some guy whose outfit looked like it had chicken feathers glued to it. Visitors were called in next, and they included international hashers, west coast, the south, and the midwest. (Notably neglected was the northeast, Philly, the non-Boston parts of Massachusetts, and New York’s diverse representation that included hashers from NYC, Albany, Syracuse, and Ithaca.) Then the GMs and co-chairs got their down-downs. 

At this point, Sex the Final Frontier drank for alcohol abuse committed when he tossed beer over his cranium in his excitement to photograph the previously accused. Mudsl*t drank for having a muggle accuse her of shoving apples up her *ss (they were pomegranates). Then the McDonald’s shoppers drank, Ate Ball drank for his trail treasure, Cum Test Dummy drank for marathoning on Monday, then all the volunteers drank. But you know who didn’t drink? The virgins! Not sure if that was on purpose or not, but the RAs failed to give Popo the opportunity to properly welcome the two newcomers. Ruh-roh. 

As for announcements, the fatboy on Sunday was announced, as was the beer check at mile 20 on Monday, but those are both in the past now. I’m sure our visitors have lots of events they want to tell you about, and they can add links to the rego pages in the comments. Hash religion was conducted (though I don’t actually think any of us made it to Dante’s Paradiso) then Goat Throat took over the DJing duties for the party that followed. The lights were dimmed, the alcohol flowed, a few ass cheeks were exposed, and a good time was had.

September 8, 2021 Hash Trash

Happy Jew Year Trail

Hares: Dry Hoes, Quarter Mile Queer

Bag Car: Sex the Final Frontier

Pack: Chunderellie Chunderellie, Clit Notes, C*ntcussion, Dribbles, Extra Terresticle, Fellowship of the Cockring, Five Inch Penalty, Frosty the F*ckman, Holy Dumpster Fire, Luva Lamp, Mudslut, Popo Peepshow, Shits and Ladders, Slothy Seconds, Snap On Snap Off, Spunk in the Trunk, Swedish Eagle, Testicular Mechanics, The Buttler Hit It, Wikipedophilia

Pre-lube: 3 Amigos

Beer Check: Fellsmere Park

Shot Check: Pinnacle Rock Trailhead

On-in: Pine Banks Park

When it comes to Malden trails, Swedish Eagle just can't catch a break. A few months ago he suffered the epic hash crash, then this time he suffered choice words from a Karen in an SUV with a Massachusetts Animal Coalition special license plate. Pack had just wrapped up at the shot check when this woman pulled up next to Sweagle, who was running with Butt Pug, to tell him he was overheating his dog. Sweagle calmly pointed out that his dog frequently goes running with him and has no problem indicating when he needs to walk, and that he had cold water with him should his dog need it, but this driver wouldn't let it go. It escalated to Sweagle saying that his dog was fit whereas her dog was fat. A few other hashers joined in. Slothy, our transplant from Philly, squealed in delight over the whole episode. The driver continued by yelling out something about how she volunteers at an animal shelter, as if that qualifies her to accost people who were just minding their own business, before eventually driving off. I really thought we were going to get the cops called on us, but we managed to dodge that bullet.

Trail last night was themed the Happy Jew Year trail to recognize Rosh Hashanah which occurred earlier in the week (Happy 5769 plus 13). Hares supplied pack with one apple byproduct: cider, but did not bring a shofar to blow (I was prepared for shouts of tequila, shevodka, and terurum). We finished up past Oak Grove at the Pine Banks Park and started circle with comments of not enough chalk, too much chalk, not enough people, too many people, not enough Karens, and too many Karens. Wiki was the FRB and for some reason was also the FBI, while Clit Notes was the DFL. We formally welcomed our transplant, Slothy Seconds, from the Ben Franklin Mob. She said she's in Boston to earn her hash cash, and she sang us an OG hash song to the tune of Let It Go. Luva and Frosty drank for September birthdays, while QMQ also drank for Fireball's birthday. Backsliders were many, while Justs were non-existent.

Accusations opened with one for C*ntcussion and Sweagle for being yelled at for giving their dog heat stroke, then one for Testicular, Wiki, and Spunk who all had a hash crash. QMQ drank for losing his clear sunglasses, and he did his down-down to what I think was an OG song from Mudslut and Popo. There was a Chosen People down-down, then an accusation for Slothy, Fellowship, and Popo who thought Butt Pug liked them when he actually was giving them attention in exchange for tortilla chips. Same shirt wearers did their down-down. Five Inch sang his Malort song. Wiki accused the RA of it being too hot. Sweagle gave the RA an honor down-down for no rain. Wiki accused Shits of something that didn't make enough sense for me to write it down. Sex was accused of driving his mom's car. Wiki accused Sex of Wikiing a song. Buttler gave Wiki an honor down-down for getting a song mostly right. (This is going to keep going on. Circle went 45 minutes and we're only halfway there.)

QMQ, Popo, Fellowship, Mudslut, and Snap On all came in for a private party, which was the perfect time for a 10-minute rendition of Jesus Saves, where pack essentially turned it into a Bible study by creating verses for just about every character in the Old and New Testament. (We covered Abraham, Moses, Noah, Jonah, and Aaron just to name a few. Not sure if anyone did "Goliath can't go hashing cause he's busy getting stoned," but that's my personal favorite in the extended verses edition.) At some point Fireball showed up, so she drank for her sweat test failure. Then QMQ drank for drinking for Fireball during the birthdays down-down. A few hashers drank for phones in circle (Scribe is exempt, bitches). Shits accused Jeppsen of being too cute. Then Sex accused anyone who stroked Jeppsen affectionately. (How did they not get accused of using Butt Pug's nerd name?) Buttler accused Slothy of not hashing with her home kennel recently, but the accusation was so weirdly worded that I think he joined her for the down-down. Wiki accused Testicular of drafting a fantasy team during circle, which was followed by Testicular being accused of calling Spunk Sketchy. At this point, despite all the beer that was still left over, Chunderellie wrapped up the accusations and moved us to announcements.

Next week Sex is haring a Somervillens trail with a recent transplant. A Harbor Islands campout will eventually happen. Wiki is still plugging his June 2022 trust me. AGM is October 2. Volunteer for MisMan. September 22 is Barbie and my Tutus and Nuptials trail, possibly starting at Alibi if we decide the space can handle us. Shits, Fireball, Testicular, Chunderellie, and Sweagle each had an announcement, but aside from "we're going to drink 99 beers before we even leave the pre-lube," I didn't catch any of them. We did our hash religion, then proceeded to head home.