Hash Trash from 2008

There were trails this year.  there were also a lot of canceled trails.  Either way, pretty much none of the hash trashes were written.  cockmonkey is not pleased.

Happy Valley # 202 & Shays Rebellion Full Moon Hash No.18

or “Cow’s Tits aren’t the only kind you can see in Whately”

When: A very sunny winters day in the fields and dreams of Whately, Massachusetts.
Saturday, January 19th, 2008

By Whom: Hares – Anti-coch & The Marquis De BrokeBack

The Pack: I Eat Cum, Jimmy Crack Whore, Virgin Italian Pisser, Big Piles, Sir Cums Alot, La La, Counterfeit Dick, Titanic Teabag, Super Chicken, Spunk In Da Trunk, Crucifux, Holy Ozone, Shine On Harvard Moon, and Virgin Dave.

The local forecasters looked into their crystal balls and pronounced a verdict of high winds, low windchill temperatures and flurries for this saturday’s outing, but alas, the wizards of meteorology were wrong and we had blue skies, sunshine and just a nip to the air.

The faithful gathered in Whately Center, just off Rtes 5&10, just a stones throw from a giant Milk Bottle on the lawn of the Whately Center School. They came from near and afar: We had Happy Valley Hashers, Hartford Hashers, Da Pitts, 1 Tidewater / Okinawa, and sundry and assorted Boston Hashers.

For the benefit of Virgin Dave, who was made to cum by The Marquis De Brokeback, we had a chalk talk, followed by a quick assemblage of some Trail Heads, wait a minute – Who said…

The RA, Big Piles, led the assembled thong, I mean Throng, in a rousing Father Birmingham. But then it was time to leave on the quest for Beer, Glory and a secret beverage check or two. Just at that moment Spunk In The Trunk arrived, luckily in time to depart with the pack.

Everyone looked all over the place for the first hash mark. But since the Whately Town Hall parking lot isn’t that big, some hashers’ cars hid the first couple of marks. So people looked in the cemetary, the grounds of the Whately Inn, and just about everywhere except on True Trail. Eventually the hounds were off thru downtown Whately. ( By the way the town’s name is “Wait Lee”, apparently some hashers were asking for directions to What Lee?, which did not endure them to locals, who then sent them off to Lee, Mass, way off to the west on the Pike.) But that was nuthin compared to the confusion of the main pack who totally missed Marquis’ first Beer / Brandy check. He put a check alongside a bridge, which the pack should’ve turned right and found true trail which led to the beverage check. But as will happen, the FRBs went straight thru the check and eventually found true trail marks which turned the route into a sprint to the second and last beer check / tittie bar.

I was bag car, and went straight to the Whately Ballet Co, also known as the Castaways Strip Club. I explained to the bartender, that in about one hour or so that I would be joined by about 15 friends and at that point she could begin filling pitchers of beer. I then ordered a pint of Sam Adams, and started watching the Fordham/Purdue Basketball game.( You don’t really believe the part about watching the basketball game do you?) I was only about 1/3 of the way thru my beer and had only seen two “floor acts” when in burst a winded FRB, I Eat Cum. I was a bit astonished and wondered if he’d done the trail by Zen method, but he explained he had seen no beer check and that the rest of the pack was right behind him. I went outside for a look, and sure enough, they were.

The bartender began filling pitchers of Sam Adams and I started handing out hash cash (in singles of course) to the pack who graciously offered them up to the dancers, in one fashion or another!

Eventually the pack was followed by the Marquis and Holy O and Shine On, who apparently were the only people who got to the beercheck on trail.

The “employees” of the Castaways were very friendly, in fact I think I saw VIP telling one of them about hashing while the girl was on her lap. It must have been a funny story judging by the way she was squirming and giggling while grinding herself closer to VIP to hear every detail. Or something like that…

Some comments by the dancers:

“Why is that guy wearing horns on his head?”

“How can I join this group?”

“Do you run & smoke Hash too?”

Ah, all in due time pretty lady, in due time… cum to the hash; you can see for yourself.

We actually were in a quandry, ( No not the bar “The Quandry” that’s in Harrison, N.J.) we just couldn’t figure out a good place to do the circle. Big Piles then offered up his abode in G-Funkville, near Greenfield Community College. We caravaned up and held court in his garage / dungeon of horrors [ Horrors, that’s Hasher speak for Genny Cream Ale and PBR in cans]

At the circle: Somebody produced a bottle of tequila and blackberry brandy, which foretold of a wild circle.

Big Piles Ra’ed.

I didn’t write down all the circle activities, but the down downs I can recall were:

Hares in the circle: Marquis de Brokeback & Anti-Coch. Trail was rated 6.9, even so most people missed the first beer check. Shine On mentioned something about certain members of the BH3, who would be sad that they missed a Titty Bar hash.

La La was called out for demeaning the Hardfart Hash, but that mis-quote was cleared up when he just meant the SouthEastern part of The Thames area.

Virgin Dave was made to cum by the Marquis. Marquis showed Dave how to do a down down. Dave failed all entry examinations, but has a good memory about his first “short time, in country lay” and his first blow job. ( He didn’t spit it out – or something or other, it was hard to hear all the responses in the garage.) We decided to let him becum a Happy Valley Hasher anyway.

There lots of other down downs, par for the course.

The hashit, ignominously carried by La La, { Thanks Man!} was in nomination to Big Piles, VIP, Marquis de BB, and I Eat Cum. VIP won the round of nominations by a landslide, although I can’t remember why? At least I didn’t end up with the friggin thing.


Next Hardfart Hash is next weekend, details TBA. Next Happy Valley Hash will be Ground Hog Day, Hares: I Eat Cum & Jimmy Crack Ho. Details TBA Febrewary @nd was the date fo dat.

Boston Marathon Hash will be the weekend of Patriots Day.

Next Da Pitts hash will be, shit, what did he say? PBR will do that to ya.

That’s the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, I Think, so help me AA.

Anti-CochScribe for Life
Happy Valley H3

ps On After was at the People’s Pint in G-Funk.

Go Pats & Go Gi’nts!!!!


No hash trash for this was written, but when the webmistress finds their virgin lay missing from the chronicles, something gets posted.

Start: Logging road off of Pratt Corner Road in Shutesbury, MA

Hare: cockmonkey & Big Piles

Pack: May have been made up of Just Robbie, Counterfeit Dick, I Eat Cum, probably PigFucker, DeciBelle and some other wankers.  Definitely not Anticock with a K because he called out of the trail several times on the mailing list.  It was 5 years ago, so I sure as shit don’t remember.  Oddly enough I do remember that there were growlers of beer on trail and a six pack of Sam Adams Cherry Wheat in my car (plus shitty beer), which goes to show you what my subconscious finds important.

Our hare was newly named and eager to lay her first trail.  Isn’t innocence adorable?  And by adorable, I mean begging hashers to exploit it.  And exploit it they did, for our poor hare had never encountered a hash shit before, so when one was drawn out of a car she assumed it was something the hare was supposed to carry and graciously accepted it.

The pack somehow managed to hold off on sniggering until the hare was away.  I’m not sure how the co-hare managed.

By the way, which kennel’s hash shit was that?  Because it wasn’t the HVH3 one which was still missing along with Jimmy Crack Whore.

Either way, like all good trails, this one started with an obnoxiously long uphill.  There were various strategically placed checks, but really, it just kept going uphill in one direction for far too long on a very blatant rut filled “road” and then eventaully turning onto a something more resembling a highly traveled ATV track rather than something pretending to be a road that trucks might play on.

Eventually there was a beer check.  The hare enjoyed her excellent taste in beer check beverage while waiting for the pack.  Again, details are fuzzy, but I believe this is still when we were running on what could be considered actual trails.  What the hare does know is that at some point IEC went drastically off track and added a few miles to his run.

And the hares were off, eventually laying a false along the obvious trail and ducking off onto a footpath that you’ll just have to take my word exists.  And bounding through the woods, across water, and eventually back onto not only a real path, but coming out to a real road.  From there the trail went to a collection of huge boulders and more beer (yay).  At some point IEC has found his way back to the pack, which meant we didn’t need to go looking for him, and tasty beverage was enjoyed by all.

Then the hares were off again, to make a final desperate dash back to start.  As soon as they were out of sight they heard the chilling sounds of whistles and cries of “On-On!”  Reaching the road a song check was marked and our brave hares scurried on, hoping to stay ahead of the pack (stay ahead of IEC… I’m sure you can all guess how well that was going to work out).

The song check bought the hares a brief respite, as IEC burst heroically out of the shiggy and came to a screeching halt at the song check with a resounding cry of “FUCK!”

But the few seconds gained were all to quickly lost, and soon the pack was hot in pursuit, following the trail left by the hares who had disappeared around bends in the road and past a few checks.  Soon our FRB has the hares in his site.  Big Piles tried to sacrifice himself for the sake of the the virgin hare, but IEC was having none of that and ultimately the hares were snared.

After that the hares said “fuck it” and leisurely made our way back to the start where circle was had.

At circle cockmonkey learned that in fact the plunger with all the decoration was not something intended specifically for the hare to carry on trail, but of course anyone who willingly offered to carry it would be gleefully given its care.  There was drinking and accusations and general shennanigans.  IEC was likely FRB, someone was DFL and someone was FBI.  And there was much rejoicing.  Then in about a year, someone who was slightly neurotic about keeping track of trail counts and accounts started writing hash trash who then several years after that made herself annoying enough to finally gain control of the website so we could have a viable web presence.