Hash Trash from 2015
#303 | Vikings vs Swedes
Dead Swede’s Virgin Lay with Co-Hare, Hare Club for Queers
Happy Valley H3’s 303rd Mis-adventure in the Valley
a.k.a. “Vikings vs. Swedes Hash”
South Deerfield, Massachusetts – Start at Wolfies
January 17, 2015 – 1300HRS
The Hares: Dead Swedes & Boston’s Hare Club
The Pack: Butterknife Buczechi (HVH3), Jenny Cougar Mellencans (CVNT), Just Lisa (HVH3), Not Enough Fingers (CVNT), Tasty Topple (HVH3), Virgin Shannon (HVH3), EMT (HVH3), Anticock (HVH3) & Hash Hound Just Roxy (HVH3).
It was a chilly but bright day in the Happy Valley when the pack assembled in the parking lot of Wolfies fine dining and drinkin’ establishment in South Deerfield, Mass. “Drinkin’ that is, say, You like Drinkin’ dontcha?” We would have gone inside for a brew but the bar was chock fullah little kids for a birthday party or something.
The Hares soon arrived and since this was to be a live haring they axed for a 15 minute cranium start. The pack circled up for our first hash of 2015 and introductions were had by all. Tasty Topple surprised us with a VIRGIN!!!!!! Virgin Shannon, so we had to be extra careful spelling out the dark secrets of trail signage. One trail sign the hares explained before they left was a “Penguin Check.” Apparently we were expected to huddle closely and with our arms down at our sides, palms parallel to the ground we were to waddle around shoulder to shoulder like penguins (Hoboken!!! Ewwww, I’m Dying! – Bugs Bunny circa 1951)
After a rousing chorus of Father Birmingham and an amply served waiting period of 15 minutes, the pack followed trail signs that snaked behind Wolfies and squeezed us around a dumpster off onto Sugarloaf Street. The weather for a few weeks had been very cold so the streets and sidewalks were coated and glazed with ice. Brighter runners would’ve worn Yak Traks, but being Half Minds we slipped and slid along in pursuit of the elusive beer. Trail switched sides of the street a few times, and eventually made a left, going east on Mountain Road. ( I think it was Mountain Road) The pack began grumbling about a promised shot check, but we moved off frozen ass-fault onto a trail that led into a trail network between North Sugarloaf Mountain and South Sugarloaf Mountain.
At this point we began to ascertain that since we were in the Mount Sugarloaf State Reservation that all trails leading to beer were probably going in a skyward direction. Not to be disappointed all trails did cross several contour lines all gaining elevation, about 400 or so feet of elevation until we reached the summit of South Sugarloaf Mountain. At points the trail was very icy, EMT making not one but two hash crashes and despite Hash Hound Just Roxy’s attempt to eat every blue flour and chalk hash mark we soon made our way to the pavilion to find the Hares and the greatest of all Beer Check beers, Pabst Blue Ribbon in cans tucked into snow in a empty half whiskey barrel. Lovingly, the Hares decided to nourish the pack with potato chips and Doritos.
The view from Mount Sugarloaf was spectacular (if you could get out of the bone-chilling breeze to enjoy the view) The Connecticut River was almost full of pack ice and because it was a clear day you had great views of the Happy Valley.
The hares left and after we drank almost all the beer we noticed the marks the Hares had left for us to follow. We thought the marks said something like, “Backcheck to Zero” – which we interpreted as “Just make your way back to the start”, so we ambled off down the trails back down to Sugarloaf Street.
I guess this is time to mention a conversation overheard on trail down the mountain, (perhaps our resident Dementress can cache this away for a later date or naming) Virgin Shannon replied to something said, I think it was by Tasty Topple, about flashing on trails or at hashes. Virgin Shannon replied that she has never ever flashed her boobage, although she has danced half-nekkid on a table. She further added that if boobs could be compared to a bag of marbles, and that bag of marbles was down to the last two marbles, then [the] “Last Two Marbles” would adequately describe her boobs. {Scribe’s note: You can’t make this shit up!}
Okay, anyway, we still hadn’t found a supposed shot check and we were practically back down on Sugarloaf Street, so when the pack came upon a frozen baseball field with a little shack next to it, someone hypothesized that there must be a shot check here somewhere. So we clover-leafed around in the snow and woods around the baseball field looking for a non-existent shot check. Easily dis-heartened, we drifted down into the baseball field parking lot, slipping and sliding all the way. We stopped at a check mark and hashers searched all around for trail marks, but didn’t seem to find any, so we just proceeded north back up Sugarloaf Street on a sidewalk. It was very icy. At one point Hash Hound Just Roxy tried to bite some strange dude’s ankles off, but he seemed amused by her behavior, thankfully.
So we made our way back to the start. Someone there, might’ve been EMT, said we should go to the Hot ‘L Warren, perhaps Western Mass Diviest Dive bar. Have you ever been there? It’s like a time warp back to the days of 10 cent shots and 15 cent beers (Oops, I think I just dated myself), anyway, the locals seemed to be amused, and Yuengling lagers were only $2.25, so we circled up in the pool room off the main bar.
Our Hares were a little surprised to see us as they couldn’t understand how we could’ve run the trail so quickly. Well apparently its easy to run a trail quickly when the pack misses the whole second half of trail. Oops, sorry about that Swedes and Hare Club. It’s all good, I guess that’s why we never found the shot check…
Our GM, and normal Hash Scribble/ Dementress weren’t with us so I was drafted to be the RA, and Tasty Topple would eventually dement.
Hares were called into the circle for abuse and commentary about their lay. Comments included: Not enough Boob checks, not enough ice, not enough contour lines, etc. They were gloriusly serenaded with the S-H-I-T-T-Y Tee Are Ay You Ell song. Next in was our Virgin who happened to accomplish two things! She was FRB and FBI! But before she could do a Down-Down she had to be instructed in the proper method of consumption. Her sponsor showed her the way. So Tasty Topple went thru the motions while we proscribed the usual manner starting with placing the vessel from her head, WHO SAID HEAD, to upon her lips, WHO SAID LIPS, anyway you know how it goes…When it was time to sing her a song, we sand the Virgin FRB, FBI a sweet version of Aquarius, ah hmm, I mean “Hairy Ass”
Hash Crash was EMT, DFL was Butter Knife and EMT, Back-sliders were AC, TT, and Hare Club, snicker, snicker… Lost items on trail was Dead Swedes who lost, let me see was it a sex toy or a furry mitten, hmmmm???? No whistle was EMT, Dead Swedes and Hare Club. Racist Behavior was exhibited by the Virgin.
Which leads us back to our Virgin, that’s right Virgin Shannon. Well we got our Virgin into our second favorite position, on her knees, as she proceeded to tell us a little bit about herself. She flicked aside her long flowing locks of fiery red hair and explained she is a medical receptionist in her NERD life and on the side has a business selling sex toys (Ag’in, you can’t make this shit up!) She miserably failed the “All You can Eat for Under a $1” question but would entushiastically stay on that mystical bus, she would help her Uncle Jack off the Barn roof, and some other stuff. When told about what ever doesn’t go in you must go on you or show a body part, she replied that since we knew she wouldn’t flash her “Last Two Marbles”, she had been working out at the gym and loved her Butt so she proceeded to exhibit her gym acquired rock hard behind. Down to business, with the Virgin on her knees and after proper demention from Tasty Topple, we sang her a rendition of Alouette, led by Hare Club. She arose from her knees now to be known as “Just Shannon with the Rock Hard Keister and Last Two Marbles” (Not really but it would be a mouthfull for a name, wouldn’t it?) because her morals and knowledge are low enough to be a Half Mind.
Announcements: Pornstarboard and Rear Admiral’s Going Back to Misery Hash is next Saturday. Boston’s Marathon Hash rego is coming soon, Albany’s NURD is in the works, Summit is having a Invihash in March, There is a Poofflinger next Saturday which wasn’t coordinated with the HVH3 Hash, oops. (Editor’s note: Bring back the Northeast hash calendar Piggy!)
We finished with Hash Religion.
#304 | Kiss my ass, Valentine! | Taint Here’s Virgin Lay
cockmonkey’s Log, Beerdate 3.8.2015
Start: The Log Cabin
Hares: Taint Here & Sloppy Jodi
Pack: cockmonkey & Tasty Topple
This trail was totally hardcore. I mean, we were looking at a fuckton of snow, and the potential for mixing snowshoes with heavy drinking. Also, holy fuck windchill. What is this shit? Truly a trail of the dedicated few.
I mean look at these hardcore hashers:
Even better, we had themed drinks:
It was realized that Kinky Liquor would be a great hasher name, one that should totally go to a lesbian. Then we realized we have a huge lack of lesbians in the hash. So Taint Here, Tasty Topple, and cockmonkey decided that we need a lesbian conversion task force in order to address this shocking lack of lesbians.
We ‘trudged” through the bitter cold. And by that I mean we auto hashed to near the first beer check and watched Sloppy Jodi climb through the snow to the beer. Totally brutal.
Then we made our way to Amy’s Place for food, drinks, and circle. Accusations included: auto haring, auto hashing, and fuck the goddamn weather.
#305 | The Beta Virgin Lay
cockmonkey’s log, beerdate 3.8.15
Hares: Taint Here & Sloppy Jodi
Start: HCC
Pack: Big Piles, Tasty Topple, Stunt Cock, Semen After Ass, cockmonkey
Actually it was a pretty nice day. I mean, yes, we still had two feet of snow on the ground and had to deal with snow-blindness, but actually a pretty nice day. That being said, any day with beer is a pretty good day.
The hares started out on the right track – getting the pack drunk from the start. So, distracted by beer, we let them go off and start actually laying trail. The first part of trail was pretty standard fair, with a nearly missed dog gauntlet. At least that’s what I heard, I totally wasn’t paying enough attention to notice possibly slavering dogs. And then the fun part where we got to go into the snow. Sometimes being slow works in your favor, just saying. On the other hand, three-dimensional dick and tit checks are cool. But the good news is, soon we found the beer check. It was cold out, the dick check wasn’t exactly good news.
And by ‘found the beer check’ I mean we found the hares standing next to a twig with an inflated condom and a backpack of beer and tequila rose. Its like a trip down ‘bad decision drink lane.’ Don’t lie, you’ve all been in your early 20’s (if not an underage drinker), and that’s often where Tequila Rose comes into our lives.
Well, we agreed to carry the bag of beer with us, and shooed the hares away while we kept drinking. After what seemed a nice cranium start (and we’d finish our beer), the pack headed out after Taint Here and Sloppy Jodi, only to shortly come to a junction and face to face with the hares. We froze in shock, then the hares dashed off in panic, and the pack took off with Stunt Cock in the lead, only he was weighed down by the beer sack. “DROP THE BEER!” we screamed, and after a short dash he did, followed by diving into the unbroken snow, bee-lining to the hares who were running around a corner. It kind of looked like a bear trying to do the butterfly through the snow, very magnificent. I wish I had video.
The hares did their best, but Stunt Cock made it Apparently once they all crested the hill there was some sort of further snow acrobatics, but none of us saw (except for the terrified hares). Those of us in the back caught up after we recovered from laughing. The hares weren’t pantsed, but they did sit bare-assed in the snow. Sloppy Jodi’s snow imprint looked a lot like a dick, and he came to the realization that he may in fact have a dick-shaped body.
Well, the second beer check was supposed to be who knew where, but we had the beer with us from the first, so we had an impromptu second beer check, and again released the hares. For this next part of trail we didn’t know if there was yet another beer check or if we were going back to start. However, we kind of lost trail while on assfault, and Tasty Topple’s knees said “fuck this shit,” so while Piles, Stunt Cock and Semen After Ass went searching for true trail, cockmonkey walked with Tasty Topple back to start. Near start cockmonkey and Tasty Topple found a trail crossing, but we kept going, b/c knees are assholes (well, not really, but you know what I mean). So Tasty Topple and cockmonkey were first back, but shortly after the rest came back in, also not exactly following true trail (and skipping the intended 3rd beer check).
Since our actual RA was who the fuck knows where (with the hash shit), Piles RA’d. The pack’s feedback included disappointment in the lack of avalanches, not enough snow, and there was a nice artistic aesthetic. FRB/FBI went to cockmonkey and Tasty Topple, with everyone else as DFL. Also it started snowing. WTF. Actually, it was Big Piles and Stunt Cock as DFL, with Semen After Ass being hit with racist behavior, but close enough. Big Piles and Semen After Ass were both backsliders (being deathly ill or having work was supposed to be an excuse or something).
Of course we brought in the hares for being snared. Sloppy was just so excited with those condoms in his pocket that they got lost. Or something. Then we had a social because Stunt Cock’s ‘polar bearing’ was just so awesome. Then Blood on Trail became an ‘any accusation you want to add’ – Nerd Names, Birthday, needing help getting pulled out of the snow, spilled bear, etc.
And then dick mints broke the circle. The were curiously strong dick mints too. There are photos, but the camera they’re on has apparently decided it’s still not done charging even though I plugged it in on Friday and refuses to turn on. Moral of this story: everyone loves dick mints.
#306 | Zombie Jesus Day #7
cockmonkey’s log, beerdate 4.4.15
Start: empty lot near Athena’s Pizza, Amherst
Hare: cockmonkey
Pack:
Happy Valley: Suckit Wrench, Cocksucker, Dead Swedes, Big Piles, Anticock with a K, Sloppy Jodi, Just Grant, Virgin Michael, Virgin Matthew
Halve Mein: Willy Wanker, PigFucker, Jizzknee Gland, Hymen Dickedover
CVNT: Just Hannah, Not Enough Fingers
Time for the closest thing HVH3 has had to an annual event for some time (but we’re working on changing that, b/c shennanigans). Our hare may have a been a little tardy to start from putting out the alcohol, but not everyone had shown up yet, so she’s going to pretend she was completely on time. The pack was a lovely mix of hashers, with visitors and virgins present to bolster the pack’s numbers.
Also, hashy Jesus
Well, hare lies were told, and the hare took off with the pack milling and possibly waiting for the still absent Anticock. No clue how long they waited, but he did show up at some point (possibly right after I left, no clue, I wasn’t there).
Trail took down along the side walk before veering across traffic and through a condo complex, through some minor trespassing, and to the first song check at our local church of the Latter Day Saints. Because reasons. Then back to the assfault and into UMass (with yes, another song check at a church, and an earlier one under the fantastically acoustic bridge).
Well, eventually we reached the first beer check to face horrible news. Some unethical shithead had gone through the two backpacks and taped up box that cockmonkey had left on the *zzznrk* Twat?’s porch and stolen the beer (and it was rather good beer too). The good news is they apparently had NO CLUE what was up with the baggo or the contents of the box. So there was something alcoholic for the check. Nothing like clearance box wine to whet your whistle…
The pack was left with baggo and informed that not much cranium start was needed, as the next leg was prelaid to the next BN since cockmonkey had to carry the contents of the next check there.
I think the pack waited longer than necessary, but I don’t know. I enjoyed the excess time to get a frozen yogurt from GoBerry. But eventually the wankers showed up (and it wasn’t the CVS parking lot, it was a NEW location), bearing baggo and seeking beer.
Too bad there wasn’t any beer.
Because there were jello shots.
Trail wasn’t really all that complex from this point to the end. At least it wasn’t laid as such, and really I just had to hope that people would follow the marks and not just zen straight ahead and snare me (I did not expect people to zen and run around completely the opposite way however). It was in this last stretch that the trail’s one lone tit check existed. Too bad for Sloppy Jodi that he zenned and missed it, but I guess snaring the hare 20ft from the end makes up for it. And if it didn’t apparently the yelping squeak I made when I saw him was hilarious.
So eventually everyone made it back to start. And we had circle.
Obviously the hare drank for laying such a shitty trail. Feedback included “I was very disappointed until the first check… and then I was even more disappointed” (thank you, honey…), and some comment about there being too many checks (from someone who has obviously never been on a trail I’ve laid before :P).
The virgins were brought out, along with their unique vessels… one drinking out of a peanut jar and the other out of a tiny blender jar.
Virgin Matt would eventually get off the bus (possibly getting off and back on repeatedly), Virgin Mike had no clue about the dollar bill. Matt would help his Uncle Jack off (what a nice boy), and if he was a ram he’d totally do a sheep. Virgin Mike professed to being a cock fan when asked about his favorite barnyard animal, and then was so kind as to demonstrate (on his sponsor, Just Grant), how exactly one would fuck a cock. To quote our virgin, “The key here is leverage!” However, he had no clue what the square root of 69 was (“I’m a college student, I don’t know math!”), which Virgin Matt was actually a little too exact (“8 point 1… 4… something?”). Seems someone knows cockulus.
Tech on Trail went to Just Grant. Damn fancy doohickies.
FRB: Sloppy Jodi
FBI: Hymen Dickedover
DFL: Not Enough Fingers & Dead Swedes
For their various over and under achieving they got little steel water bottles of vodka. They were really cute bottles of vodka too.
There was some accusation involving Piggy and Just Hannah and acrobatic humping in circle. Who knows. This was followed by bringing in our snared hare… and the snarer for missing the tit check in order to snare said hare. Because boobies. Sloppy Jodi and cockmonkey were joined by Piggy, Jizzney Gland, and Suckit Wrench.
We made Jesus (Willy Wanker) drink. Because Jesus. And Piles for something, maybe being a lazy RA. Then Piggy for losing shit on trail.
Backsliders were Cocksucker, Anticock, Suckit Wrench, Big Piles, Dead Swedes, Just Hannah, and Not Enough Fingers (apparently the CVNTs decided to do backsliding instead of visiting). Followed by our Visitors, Jizzney Gland, Hymen Dickedover, PigFucker, and Willy Wanker.
cockmonkey drank for the stolen beer, Jizzney joined her for shit, and then if one cock drinks, all cocks drink, so Cocksucker and Anticock joined (too bad Stunt Cock wasn’t here to make it a real cock party).
We brought out Dead Swedes for her hashing analversary, her first trail being the Zombie Jesus Day trail two years ago, and she demanded a song about manly difficulties. So we sang “It’s a small dick after all” She was quite pleased.
Some fuckers had cranium gear at some point, so they all came. Then Just Hannah got called out on racism for missing NURD to do a r*ce, and was joined by people in racist gear or who looked like racists: Sloppy Jodi, PigFucker, and Hymen Dickedover.
Eventually we wrapped this shit show up and went across the street for food, where a magician did card tricks for Jesus. Amen.
#307 | Too Underachieving to make Marathon
cockmonkey’s log, beerdate 4.18.15
Start: Hadley Wal-Mart back lot, near the bike trail
Hare: Stunt Cock & Anticock
Pack: Sloppy Jodi, Big Piles, Suckit Wrench, cockmonkey
Holy crap it was nice out today. Also a great day to avoid the center of Amherst if you’re not trying to end up there for an extended stay. A great day for Boston Marathon, and well, a great day for those of us too underachieving to even make the BH3 event.
Anticock was planning on coharing, but shit happened. Literally. He blames school lunch. Suckit was running late, but he was going to be there eventually, so Stunt Cock told his hare lies while we ate his salty nuts and pretzels. Seriously, those pretzels are SALTY.
So off the hare went while us lazy fuckers stood around for awhile. Eventually Suckit showed up and we figured we might as well wander off down trail.
Trail was awfully straight. I like a little less hetero myself, but beggers’ can’t be choosers. Which also is why we enjoyed our first beer check right in front of the disapproving glare of a lady on a bench. Because that’s where the beer was, we gave her lots of room so it wasn’t like we were crowding her.
Then off for more adventures. Across a road and almost falling on a dead rabbit on the opposite side of the highway median.
The promised land awaits!
Sadly we went around the liquor store, not into it (but I guess that could be our own faults for not bringing cash on trail). Behind the liquor store we found marks that weren’t part of trail, but made us feel right at home.
But we were on the right trail, as soon we discovered a hobo camp mecca. Holy empty nips batman. Not only that, but we got to see the wild shopping cart in its natural habitat putting on a mating display. Rwar! Also, mmmm alcohol on a nearly empty stomach (because of course, none of us really ate anything before hashing).
The question on our minds as we went on was if we should zen back to the start regardless of marks… or would trail go to the pizza place with a liquor license in the mall. After all, the hare did tell us to bring ID and we hadn’t needed it yet. Also, something about bright orange tape being used for marks. We also stopped to say hi to Gag Reflex who was at work (and along the path of trail).
Now where could this be taking us
Looks like we were on the right trail.
BN!
And it was to the pizza place, for nachos and beer. Mmmmm beer. Kind of ended up being on-after before circle, but that’s OK.
Eventually we made our way back to start and who did we find there? But UFO and her offspring who stopped by to join us for a few minutes at least.
Well, we called the hare and his nuts into the circle (only polite, since he was snacking on them) and gave him various feedback including “long and straight, but not too hard.”
FRB: Suckit
FBI: cockmonkey
DFL: Big Piles
UFO drank for not knowing where the beer checks were, and then later for being a backslider.
Stunt Cock was brought in for not enough shiggy and no crashes… and then cockmonkey messed up the song and had to join him.
Birthdays were called out, and lo and behold it was the month of Suckit’s birth. And his loving wife was rather confused for a few minutes, so cockmonkey joined in on the down down. Then cockmonkey stayed in for a self-accusation, that of “international virgin” – having convinced a friend she plays WoW with who lives in the Netherlands to go find a hash.
Whistle check was called, and since cockmonkey’s was in the car at that point Sloppy Jodi tried to call her in, but using a beer bottle as a whistle was deemed “hashman like behavior.” UFO of course had no whistle, so she did a down down of her own. But cockmonkey had to go in shortly after along with Suckit for use of nerd names.
Announcements were made, and we need more hares. UFO might be laying one at some point, and other exciting news.
#308 | May the 4th be with you!
cockmonkey’s log, beerdate 5.3.15
It was a gorgeous Sunday that the Happy Valley Hash House Harriers met at the Mill River Rec area for Stunt Cock’s annual Star Wars themed trail. Yes, May the 4th was the following day, but fuck Monday. We even had a few hashers come out of hiding. However there was a disappointing lack of themed attire. You wankers.
Hare: Stunt Cock
Pack: Suckit Wrench, cockmonkey, Two Minute Ride, Celine Ding-Dong, Semen After Ass, Big Piles, Tasty Topple, Anticock, EMT, and Butterknife Buczecki
Before trail we entered into a discussion of how the fuck to spell “Buchzecki” (I looked it up from previous discussions, thank you text search). Cockmonkey may have threatened to just start calling him “Polish Bukkake,” to which Buczecki responded “Is that when you come repeatedly in your own face?”
Chalk talk was a bit informal and fancy all at the same time. Also lacking chalk. But it got the idea across. We were also warned about various things, such as an “asteroid field” and such.
Well, the pack shooed the hare away with his Yoda backpack. We kept drinking beer in the meantime. But eventually the time came for us to actually, you know, start trail. And so we went off, with a cry of “I should have shaved!” from a be-kilted Two Minute Ride.
With that bit of sage advice (and perhaps TMI to the mundanes in the park), we were off. Whee!
After some lovely trail running we were halted by a photo check, where we enjoyed a lovely waterfall and some assorted (in)appropriate grabbing.
And off to find that actual beer!
The beer was found and enjoyed. Inside and out. Ask Two Minute Ride’s junk about how much it enjoyed beer this trail. Then we had to clamor up a nice steep hill to the road above and find trail. Two Minute Ride took this opportunity to show off his hill climbing skills, and to show off his backside (and balls I’m guessing if you were at the right angle) to everyone climbing up behind him.
Marked trail did not make its way to the Harp at this point (walker’s trail may have), with a long straight away stringing out the pack. And then we found what must have been the warned of “asteroid field.” We found it to perhaps be a bit more like Dagobah (muddy, wet, and smelled funny). It was in this treacherous terrain that Big Piles fell beautifully (very artistic), and while cockmonkey didn’t fall, she was covered with enough dirt and mud to make it look like she did.
Well, we all made it out of the mud in one piece, and out past an outhouse. Supposedly there maybe was a shot check somewhere around here. Or maybe that was just bitching about the lack of glory hole. Then down along trail, where the faster folks actually followed the marks to the 2nd check. Everyone else ignored the road crossing and bee-lined it to the Harp for beer.
There was beer, Two Minute Ride dipped his balls in said beer, and bees. And eventually making out way back to start for circle and all that shit. On the way back we passed the r*cist CVNTs who’d spent the day at the Seven Sisters and were all exhausted for some reason. They waved hi, and went on home.
So circle. Well feedback to the hare included a disagreement over the number of tit and dick checks, appreciation of shiggy, and a complaint about a lack of Jedi glory holes.
FRB: Two Minute Ride
FBI – Semen After Ass
DFL – Tasty Topple
Nerd Names – almost all of us. Anticock, Semen After Ass, Suckit Wrench, cockmonkey, Two Minute Ride, and then Tasty Topple who tried to get philosophical about what counts on trail. Maybe EMT joined us as well? I don’t know, I oddly wrote down “UFO” for this one and she wasn’t even at trail.
Hash Crashes started out with Piles and Two Minute Ride, but expanded to kilted hashers, plus Celine Ding-Dong for blood on trail (which I guess can be different from hash crash)… who then stayed in for cranium gear.
Again most of the pack went in, this time for lacking appropriate attire for a Star Wars trail (cockmonkey was wearing an R2Da2 dress and Two Minute Ride brought a Vader balloon). But Two Minute was in just afterwards for a story involving a cum sock and PooFs.
Backsliders, and then cranium gear again. Then birthdays, which became a HVH3 social because the pack has been around for 16 years. Then cranium gear AGAIN. Some various other small infractions included Tech on Trail and Kilted Hashers without Kilts.
#309 | Happy Valley Sweet 16
cockmonkey’s log, beerdate 5.21.2015
Hare: Anticock
Pack: Dead Swedes, Suckit Wrench, Big Piles, cockmonkey
It’s only fitting that our debutant was escorted by someone at the first ever HVH3 trail, and that the venue be The Harp, the site of so many successful (and not so successful) trails.
Today’s trail was self-described as a “fat lazy bastard trail.” In fact, we zenned from start to the first beer check (though we did near the end of that distance see the auto-hared marks added last minute). But that’s OK, because, lets be honest, we were here for the beer.
Then came the actual attempts at running. Some did better than others, that being said Suckit carries a lot less weight on him than the rest of us… Either way, off we went, past some familiar terrain.
As we approached Puffer’s Pond we expected to shortly see a beer check, but it was not to be. Trail continued on, not through the pond (which this hare has done before), but around.
Turns out this check was to be super classy. Cake and champagne out of the back of a SUV classy. Even better, there was OJ for mimosas.
Well, we could have gone back to start on foot… or we could jump into the hare’s SUV and get a ride back. Guess what we did?
“Circle” was around a table at the Harp, where out of us only Suckit and cockmonkey got carded. Pitchers and munchies were ordered, and we got down to the business of making each other drink.
And the hare! “Cake or Death!” “Mimosas or Death!” And the resolution that we need to learn how to make mimosa cake. Tasty, tasty goals.
FRB/FBI/DFL – SOCIAL. Big Piles claimed right of FRB because he was in the front seat of the car. Suckit asked if that made him DFL for sitting bitch?
There was cranium gear “in circle,” and accusations to Anticock about the lack of Jack Daniels. Dead Swedes was our backslider, cockmonkey nominated herself for a down-down for being recently laid off, and then Suckit Wrench and Big Piles for recent occupational advancement (one for a raise, the other for an extra week of vacation).
Then as we were all finding our way to our cars, Suckit Wrench & cockmonkey got a surprise. A note on the windshield. Looks like some hasher from the Skulls & Boners was in the area and missed trail.
HVH3 #310
cockmonkey’s log, Beerdate 6.4.2015
Hare: cockmonkey
Pack: Semen After Ass, Sloppy Jodi, Big Piles, Suckit Wrench, Anticock, Tasty Topple, *zzznrk* Twat?, Just Eric
Start: Peter Pan Bus Station, Northampton
Yay, lots of hashers who the hare had no clue were cumming! And huzzah to the return of Tasty Topple! It was a rather nice day, with trail starting at an old standard location. Yeah, our hare was lazy.
Trail went down and around Northampton, taking the pack through the sketchiest alleyways cockmonkey could find. There are some surprisingly sketchy areas of downtown Noho, in case you’re wondering.
The first beer check came shortly after a shockingly pointless back check 2. In fact, had the pack looked to the left at the back check, they might have seen the end of the fence, and the hare waiting with the beer. Instead they back tracked and took a right through some overgrowth and a hole in the fence.
Trail continued into town, through an alley full of broken chairs and glass, and apparently through a whole bunch of left turns. Whoops. Pack split into walkers and runners for this bit, with Tasty Topple knowing the walker destination (though by their admission, they may not have taken a more direct route than true trail).
Regardless, the pack ultimately found the second check, stocked with beer and the weird Budweiser “rita” drinks (mango-rita, lemon-rita, etc). In case anyone wonders, they’re actually not that bad tasting and at a higher than expected ABV. So, that works out. Also, nice view down a steep hill (and a bench, but no one bothered to sit on it for some reason).
The last leg of trail dove down the steep hillside, and down several flights of stairs facing an apartment building back to start. No one actually followed trail. Some went back to the road and around (kudos to Suckit and Tasty Topple for actually going down the hill), and no one took the fun set of stairs. Laaaame. On the other hand, it meant every single person went further than necessary to finish trail. There was a final dash by Tasty Topple to be FBI, and a last hurrah a number of pack members started running to not be last.
Circle up!
Hey everyone – Buffett rego is opening. It’ll be awesome and all that.
And the hare! Trail rated 6.9, with the feedback that there weren’t enough hippies and wondering where were the dick checks.
FRB: Suckit Wrench
FBI: Tasty Topple
DFL: Semen After Ass
Racist Behavior: Big Piles, Anticock, Semen After Ass, Tasty Topple
Nerd Names: Anticock, *zzznrk* Twat?, Semen After Ass, Tasty Topple
No takers for Hash Crash, nor for Blood on Trail, until someone asked if bleeding mosquitoes counted, and sure, why not? Tasty Topple introduced us to the “Suffocation” song – to which Big Piles found horrifying and others found hysterical.
Backsliders: Sloppy Jodi, *zzznrk* Twat?, and Just Eric, which Just Eric staying in circle for Cranium Gear.
Birthday: Sloppy Jodi
Then a social for UFO who couldn’t join us as her son was graduating for high school right then. Yay.
HVH3 #311
cockmonkey’s log, beerdate 6.18.2015
Start: Amherst Creamery Building
Hare: cockmonkey
Pack: Suckit Wrench, Big Piles
There was going to be a larger pack, but they all canceled. Suckit kind of had to be there, being married to the hare, and Piles works right near the start point.
TL;DR – we need more local hashers, stat.
Fortunately I didn’t actually pre-lay trail, just set out the beer checks, so we did a modified trail. Obviously super complex and difficult (not).
HVH3 #312
cockmonkey’s log, beerdate 6.18.2015
Hare: Anticock
Pack: Big Piles, Suckit Wrench, Emergency Medical Tits, Butterknife Buczechi, cockmonkey, and Friar Fuck (BH3)
Start: McCarthy’s Pub, Belchertown
Wherein cockmonkey gets older and Anticock becomes a person of interest to the local constabulary.
Well, we all get older every day, but its not every day that you go to the start of trail and see the cops talking to the hare. Looks like the pre-laid trail attracted some attention from concerned citizens, especially since the marks largely went from local landmark to landmark. Also there was his vehicle at the first beer check… so the cops ran his plates and came looking for him by name…
Fortunately we were able to explain to the cops that we were just a fun social running group, and everything was smoothed over. Then it was discovered that EMT pretty much knows all of the Belchertown cops, and so we had several cops hanging around socializing with her.
Eventually we left and ran out along trail, leaving McCarthy’s and in around the center of Belchertown and towards the young hick convention that gathers with their trucks every day at the parking lot on the Common. I’m pretty sure several adult men running in kilts was a source of major confusion to them.
There was a minor kerfuffle as some of the young hicks were walking home and yelled at us about not trespassing, something about some area that we hadn’t run to yet and we didn’t really get. Eventually we did make our way to the first check, only to find some civilians (in fact, one of the concerned citizens who had involved the cops). But it turns out she was amused by what we were doing once an explanation was provided, and more than happy to partake of the Boone’s Farm jello shots available (they were quite tasty).
Well, it came time to move on, and off we went while Anticock moved his vehicle to the next check. A temporary bit of “where the hell is trail” spread out the pack, as we searched long and hard for marks, but finally marks were found, and off we went around more important spots in town.
And there we saw Anticock at his vehicle, and dashed forward. First in was cockmonkey, with supposedly photo evidence taken. Our illustrious hare decided to end trail there, so we never got to the History check or back to start. Instead we made our way to the home of cockmonkey & Suckit Wrench for circle, BBQ, and pool.
Well, it turns out the pool was fucking cold. So slightly less pool happened than intended. And Anticock was forced to wear shorts in the pool since cockmonkey’s neighbor’s really had no interest in seeing his testicles.
Circle was disorganized, and wet, but supplemented with mini-cupcakes. Either EMT was Butterknife’s dedicated drinker, or the other way around. But either way, drinks were had. Someone was DFL, cockmonkey was FBI and FRB (wtf?). Birthday, backslider, visitor, being wanted by the cops, and other such accusations were called out and drunk for.
Looking ahead, BASH at the end of the month, Buffett in Sept (rego folks, its’ a great deal and lots of fun), and we need hares for all our other trails.
#313
cockmonkey’s log, beerdate 7.20.2015
Start: Windmill Lane, UMass
Hare: cockmonkey
Pack: Suckit Wrench, Tasty Topple, Dead Swedes, Celine Ding-Dong, Two Minute Ride, Virgin Chris, Bilbo Teabaggins, and Ginger Snatch (Visitor from Afar!).
We’re trying something new here. Turns out increasing numbers of us have work on Thursday nights, so… maybe Mondays are a good idea?
Also, huzzah for visitors!
The day was lovely and the hashers were seeking beer, and we even had a few long absent wankers show up! Well, off goes the hare, followed eventually by the pack, past dorms, through a frisbee golf course, and into woods paths.
As a hare, there are few things quite as wonderful to hear as the sound of the pack going down the wrong path at a check 100ft from the beer check. But maybe I’m just a jackass. Or maybe it’s both.
Well, going on from there because holy crap mosquitos. The pack split into walkers and runners for the next leg of the trail. And shortly after that they almost caught the hare… or would have if Two Minute Ride had been paying attention and realized he was a few hundred feet at most from the hare.
Fortunately for the hare, Two Minute Ride wasn’t paying attention. Unfortunately for the pack, Two Minute Ride wasn’t paying attention, and the runner’s spent a whole lot of time lost at the rotary… while the hare tried desperately to get to a good turn off point to get out of direct line of sight.
The hare and the walkers made it to the second beer check right around the same time, but had a nice long wait for the runners who were first lost at the rotary and then picking apples (like you do).
From there we all had a stupid steep hill to climb. Sorry folks, but it sucked for me too.
Then we had to figure out exactly where to hold circle, since some campus dude was chilling in a work truck.
And the hare! Feedback included not enough checks, not enough moisture, too many hares (of the small fuzzy kind), and too much running.
FRB: Two Minute Ride
FBI: Ginger Snatch
DFL: Celine Ding-Dong
Dead Swedes made Virgin Chris come. Virgin Chris wasn’t so sure on the square root of 69, but she phoned in a friend (Ginger Snatch) for “all you can eat for under a dolllar,” and Uncle Jack is OK for her!
We called on our visitor to sing us a song, but it turns out we’d already sang all the songs she knew (and in her defense, by the time songs are being sung she’s usually hammered).
Our complainers were Dead Swedes, Ginger Snatch, and Tasty Topple. Though they could be just looking for more chances to drink.
Two Minute Ride was pulled into circle for going all the way across the country to propose to his local girl friend.
We had a nice social to hit birthdays, nerd names, and digitizing.
And then because Bilbo had graced us with his presence once again we had the hash shit! Yay hash shit.
People weren’t too creative with nominations, including defensively once nominated themselves. Come on folks, don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story. Well, by default Two Minute Ride got the hash shit for getting engaged. Congrats by the way for getting engaged.
#314 | Big Piles Memorial Hash Crash Bash #5
cockmonkey’s log, beerdate 8.3.2015
Start: Belchertown end of the Nottowuck Rail Trail
Hare: Suckit Wrench & cockmonkey (beer bitch/bag car)
Pack: Big Piles, Semen After Ass, Two Minute Ride, Tasty Topple, and Just Shannon
Now, as the only veteran of a BASH in the pack, we asked Big Piles for some advice.
“This is your cranium, don’t land on it.”
And with that the hare dashed off, and eventually the pack (followed by cockmonkey bringing the beer check out). Uphill! Because fuck hills. Thankfully once it finally stopped being uphill and more uphill there was lots of downhill.
And eventually beer!
Then some more around and about, cruising past the site of the original crash, thankfully without a crash, and then to the watering hole with some delicious beverage (in case any one was wondering it’s a blend of pink lemonade, sweet tea vodka, and peach puree).
Well, it was starting to get dark, so time to keep moving. Fortunately the trail was pretty straight forwards… if lacking lumination. Routing the pack back to the bike trail, with a brief break for a headlight lit beer check, and then with an “On Tasty!” the pack bee-lined it to the end.
And the hares! Shitty trail, night blindness, and bike seats need dildos (which we could make happen with the contents of Just Shannon’s trunk) were the primary complaints.
It was dark, there were mosquitoes, and we were hungry, so we went to the On-After for a modified circle in the restaurant.
FBI & FRB: Semen After Ass
DFL: Big Piles
We had as social for the fact that no one crashed. YAY.
Two Minute Ride had to drink for forgetting the hash shit. Backsliders include Just Shannon and Semen After Ass. Tasty Topple, Semen After Ass, cockmonkey, and Two Minute Ride had to drink for Nerd Names.
#315 |Sink or Swim
cockmonkey’s log, beerdate 8.8.2015
Start: Kellogg Hill Rd
Hares: Celine Ding-Dong & Two Minute Ride
Pack: cockmonkey, Suckit Wrench, Counterfeit Dick (PooF/DaPitts), Pussy Factory (PooF/DaPitts), Semen After Ass, Pole Smoker (no clue what his home kennel is, not sure he knows either).
Third time around for Two Minute Ride’s take on this trail, this time with more Fireball and auto-hareing prelaying. Mmmmm… Fireball.
We scampered along a somewhat new trail, including mundanes walking dogs while in sight of Dick checks. The hot sun, odd footing, spiteful shoes, and super long straightaways did Puss in. If only she know how close we were to the first beer check, or had any of us remembered where trail would 99% likely go to provide a detour. Sorry.
After a conversation on the ins and outs of paper (and it’s general lack of vegan conformity), we went on, through dick checks, tit checks, Fireball, and hashers shitting in the woods. To the riverside beer check. Cockmonkey failed at the rope swing (might have been something with weighing 100 lbs more than the kids using it), and Pole Smoker failed from even greater heights when climbing on top of the rope-swing tree and tumbling into the water in an uncontrolled manner.
Well, we all expected to cross the river. Turns out that was not in the cards. Instead we watched the hares go down stream. And further down stream. And further. And around the bend but we’ll just assume they were going down stream. So splashing/swimming/floating commenced. Counterfeit Dick and Suckit Wrench struck out for the middle of the river in search of the river’s stronger current. Counterfeit in the S.S. Counterfeit, with Suckit on his noodle, holding on to his ankles. Counterfeit’s, not his own. Semen After Ass & cockmonkey were sad at the lack of appropriate homoeroticism they displayed.
Eventually, Pole Smoker had enough of swimming, climbed out, and walked along the shore line. Since cockmonkey and Semen were near the shore, and Counterfeit and Suckit were still trying to find the elusive current, Pole Smoker soon outpaced all of us. Semen and cockmonkey resorted to an in and out strategy, using the water to avoid obstacles.
Good thing too… because it meant that cockmonkey and Semen found the Schnappes. Pole Smoker found it as well, but he was way the fuck ahead, walking side by side with Celine. Of course, the Suckit Dick armada had finally found the current and was floating at a nice speed while letting the river do all the work. But the call of booze was strong, they broke out of current, and Semen and cockmonkey swam through the back current to meet up, and the armada grew, with all of our carry-on items in Counterfeit’s lap and the three of us attached to his legs.
We made it down stream, with our collective horsepower propelling us downstream. Of course, as soon as we got to the boat ramp and tried to get out of the water, the jelly-legs hit.
So time for a soaking wet circle. And the hares! Yeah, they drank. And then for blatant auto-haring, and then again for being snared.
FRB: Pole Smoker
FBI: Semen After Ass
DFL: Suckit (and the contents of a schnapps bottle)
Pole Smoker was called in for cranium cover in circle… something that he honestly earned again while in circle for the offense, and would have earned again repeatedly. We kind of gave up because the argument just got old. But he did have to come in again for air pollution.
Celine got his tags back that he left in cockmonkey’s car a few trails back, and Suckit got a tag from a trail he registered for but didn’t make all as a part of Lost Shit.
Visitors: Counterfeit Dick, Pussy Factory, and Pole Smoker
AND THE HASH SHIT!
Two Minute Ride had to drink for forgetting it at last trail. And then nominations, which tagged Semen After Ass and Celine Ding-Dong. Ultimately it went to Semen, since it was brought up that she’s never had it. Then we found out that Celine’s never gotten it. So that needs to be fixed at a future trail.
Quick break between cleansing and awarding, Suckit went to go return his beer rental (and impressed everyone with the size of his bladder). So we brought him in, and then Two Minute Ride drank again for his Airplane-esque drinking problem.
In other news, register for Buffett!
http://happyvalleyh3.org/buffett/
#316
cockmonkey’s log, beerdate 8.17.2015
Start: Miller’s Falls Rod & Gun Club
Hare: Anticock
Pack: Suckit Wrench, cockmonkey, Tasty Topple, Big Piles, Semen After Ass, Virgin Erin
A teaser of sorts for Buffett (btw, go rego for Buffett), but with less expected nudity and glow sticks. And hurrah for a virgin.
So trail went out and about, quickly into shiggy, tripping and coming near to blood on trail. In other words, good times. And then we were back on foot trails, and found such wonderful things like tit checks. We learned that Virgin Erin has no problem showing tits, but she needs to get something for it (not much, but something). Also, we found beer. We like beer.
Eventually we made it back to the bar and wasted a bunch of time before getting to circle. Virgin Erin couldn’t remember Tasty Topple’s hash name, and asked if she could just call her Tits McGee. Which, well, none of us could fault her for.
The hare was called out for such a horribly lengthy trail, lack of mosquitoes, lack of auto-haring, etc.
So then we had some virgin dementing, and she named “Chesty LaRue” as the one who made her cum. Sounds like a fun time to me. When asked about poor, stranded, Uncle Jack, she gave a resounding “fuck that,” the $1 (with Semen After Ass as the demonstrator) got a “looks like a good time,” and to the square root of 69 she gave “all you can eat for under a buck?” Well, for once we kind felt her standards were low enough. She’s rather proud of her low standards… plus we do need the dues.
FRB: Suckit Wrench
FBI: cockmonkey
DFL: Semen After Ass
Hash Crash and Blood on Trail went to Tasty Topple and Semen After Ass, Anticock was pulled in for a mark not in chalk talk, and cockmonkey was in for lacking something to blow at the whistle check.
Then we had the hash shit to award. Nominations!
- Suckit for picking it up
- Semen for taking it back
- Tasty because why not?
- Semen for forgetting Tasty Topple’s hash name
- Anticock for being Anticock
Semen won the hash shit and held onto it for another trail.
Then, we feasted! Yay
#317
cockmonkey’s log, beerdate 8.30.2015
Start: Amherst Creamery Building
Hare: cockmonkey
Pack: Anticock, Stunt Cock, Suckit Wrench
Expecting a small pack, the trail was deadlaid so the hare could try to run with the pack. The day was bright and hot, the students were moving back in, and trail was leaning towards short and highly squirrly. But there was beer even if the hare was more interested in r*nning than anyone else. The long and the short of it was trail turned into a moving Buffett meeting and much plans were made.
#318 | BUFFETT VII – The Reserection!
cockmonkey’s log, beerdate 9.18.2015-9.20.2015
Holy crap guys, we got this shit show back on, and it was fabulous. But if you weren’t there, don’t worry, you can make up for it by joining us in 2016.
Who showed up? Why lots of folks.
Happy Valley: cockmonkey, Big Piles, Anticock, Tasty Topple, Celine Ding-Dong, Stunt Cock, Dead Swedes, Virgin Keith, Virgin Heather, Rage Against the Foreskin
Boston: Friar Fuck, Willy Wonka and the Backdoor Factory, Sketchy Ho,
Boston Moon: Twat My Mom, Spunk in the Trunk
CVNT: Not Enough Fingers
Ottawa: Downwind, Mansauce
U>0H3: One Trick Dick, Deer Near
NH3: Too Short to Tuck
PooFlingers: Bring Out the Gimp
Rotten Groton: My Thing’s a MINI
Friday night the hashers trickled in, tents were pitched, keg tapped, fire built, and various stages of undress achieved. Business as normal. The imbibing was long and hard, and the campsite was littered with the glow-in-the-dark silipints we provided as giveaway.
Then with rumors of UGH, glow sticks emerged in anticipation, some ending up adorning hashers, and then used to mark trail hared by Anticock. Who may have not remembered that he hared the UGH in the morning.
Then, at the asscrack of dawn on Saturday, cockmonkey woke up. The idiot. But… it meant that there was lots of time to prep for breakfast… then as the hashers woke up and wandered to the kitchen in twos and threes for coffee omlets were made.
Well, we ate, we relaxed, we dicked around, got the last few people signed in, and realized the keg was getting mighty light. Also, that cockmonkey was an idiot for being an event catherder and planning to hare. Fortunately both Suckit Wrench and Rage Against the Foreskin were excited at the opportunity to hare, so we were able to keep the planned two hares for the main trail.
Well, before we got to that, while beer checks were being set, Anticock and cockmonkey went out and procured another keg. THEN it was time to get the show on the road.
Stunt Cock and Suckit Wrench told their lies, and went off. Cockmonkey set out a beer check for the Gimp Trail, then gave a shitty chalk talk.
Event Gimps: Downwind, Mansauce, Celine Ding-Dong, Tasty Topple, and (of course) Bring Out the Gimp.
This is worth bringing up since among them we had someone in some sort of walking, someone’s who’s knees have various bits of hardware installed, and, well, Gimp, who’s physical therapist really strongly advised against running trail. But there was a trail for them, complete with a beer check at the piano bar.
Hashers trickled in over time, sharing of their stories as they refueled with some beer. Also the sharing of different traditions and ideas, including the idea of signing your hash name on the snared hare instead of pantsing them… which is a nice way to avoid indecent exposure issues in urban hashes.
Eventually everyone came back, but before we went into circle we had a Dunk Tank interlude. It was very important that everyone going into the tank wore their “I got wet at Buffett” cami tank top. And might I say that the gentlemen looked very dashing in theirs. Especially the ones who wore just the tank tops. Sometimes.
Also, collectively our aim SUCKS. But much fun was had by all, dunking and being dunked. Also, we’re pretty sure that Bring Out the Gimp’s physical therapist would not approve of him going in the dunk tank.
But eventually it was time for that whole circle thing. And we had ice on a bench, which made for hysterical moments when more than one person needed to sit on it.
Feedback to the hares included calling them the AT&T of people, and that the Nazis could learn a thing or two about death marches.
FRB: Twat My Mom & Too Short To Tuck
FBI: Rage Against the Foreskin
DFL: Friar Fuck (possibly, we couldn’t figure out who it actually was, so he volunteered).
Hash Crash: Sketchy Ho
Leaving early to play army: Stunt Cock (who got up early before trail to go do some Ranger Challenge shenannigans, before coming back to lay trail), which led to bringing in current and former military hashers, with Anticock and Rage Against the Foreskin joining Stunt Cock on the ice.
Virgins! We had some! Anticock made them cum. Virgin Keith did not appreciate the chilling of his balls, but when we were considering standards Virgin Keith brought up that he was there, willingly. As for the dementing, saying that a dollar bill is what he takes to the strip club and the square root of 69 is a good time… well, we were hard pressed to not take those as valid answers. Both of our virgins would help their uncle jack off. Then we asked Anticock to demonstrate a down-down, to which Virgin Keith worryingly ask “He’s not going to go down on me?”, and Big Piles replied “I’d pay good money to NOT see that.”
Willy Wonka and the Backdoor Factory falsely accused Big Piles of cranium gear, then we called in Downwind & Mansauce for sex on trail. Then we did get Big Piles in circle for pissing off the neighbor by running through her yard.
Then to get a few batches taken care of, we had anyone who didn’t go in the dunk tank (Stunt Cock, My Thing’s a MINI, Friar Fuck, Suckit Wrench, One Trick Dick, Big Piles, Celine Ding-Dong) and then anyone who hadn’t yet been on the ice (Dead Swedes, Not Enough Fingers, Tasty Topple, Deer Near, Bring Out the Gimp, and Spunk in the Trunk).
Visitors! Well… that was most of the group. Thank you all of you for coming.
Then Celine got to drink for dropping a full beer, and again for cranium gear.
Mismanagement was called in for putting on this shit-show (Big Piles, Stunt Cock, Suckit Wrench, Anticock, cockmonkey), and then Stunt Cock and Anticock for sponsoring the Dunk Tank.
As we wrapped up circle the delicious scents of dinner were wafting out, and soon we were digging into a fantastic dinner.
The rest of the night went as could be expected, with beer, fire, and debauchery. I’d say it went late into the night, but we had an UGH around 10 because people were disappearing to go to sleep, or to go have sex and then fall asleep. Some of the Rod & Gun Club folks bought excess giveaway silipints, and giggled as naked hashers ran amok. The bonfire itself was quite glorious and enjoyed for some hours.
Then Sunday morning dawned, and hashers stumbled awake in search of coffee and then to enjoy a delicious breakfast by the club.
With everyone fed and having consumed much beer over the weekend, the event was called a success. And no one got horribly injured, even better!
#319
cockmonkey’s log, beerdate 10.11.2015
Start: Fair St, Chicopee
Hare: Celine Ding-Dong
Pack: cockmonkey, Virgin Heather, it’s always soft, Just Leisha (Savannah H3)
Yeah, yeah, I’m super late on this. But where the hell where you wankers? Seriously so many folks craniumed and were too busy jerking off to make it. It’s OK though, we showed the visitor a great time, and drank all the virgins and fucked all the beer.
Off we go into the treacherous woods. And treacherous is right. Back check 21 my ass, this isn’t the Ballbusters. Also, fuck actually counting that out, unilateral decision was to just go back to start and look from there. It was a good decision, one that led to shiggy, dick checks, and beer. As it turns out, dick checks aren’t quite Just Leisha’s thing, wrong type of plumbing. Sorry, it’s always soft. And oh god, more thorns owe owe owe, let there be beer soon.
Yay beer!
So off we go, and after a bit of time on trails we come out back into civilization, then utterly and completely lose the trail. Around, around, up, down, back, and around again. Nope, no trail. We split up, lost track of each other in trying to find trail, and eventually Virgin Heather and cockmonkey walked back to start to try and contact the hare, with cockmonkey getting into her car to try and find the other two wandering hashers.
By some manner of voodoo it’s always soft and Just Leisha came across trail again before cockmonkey found them. Actually, in driving around in circles cockmonkey found trail again as well too, but it was a moot point. Once communication was received that they were at the beer check, she turned around and waited with Virgin Heather for the pack to return.
Circle started out with a demonstration for the Virgin, cause we did FRB/DFL/FBI as a social, during which Celine butchered an attempt on the Oscar Meyer Wiener song as a hash song.
Blood on Trail: cockmonkey, Celine Ding-Dong, and Just Heather
Skipping Half of Trail: cockmonkey and Just Heather
Overachieving in Flour Conservation: Celine Ding-Dong, plus cockmonkey for fucking the song up
Celine then accused cockmonkey of fucking up a song, which she had already stepped in and drank for, so false accusation for Celine, with it’s always soft joining in.
Failing the Oktoberfest theme: everyone but cockmonkey who was wearing a dirndl.
Backsliders: it’s always soft
Pissing During Circle: Just Heather
The beer was drank and circle was called. Huzzah.
#320
cockmonkey’s log, beerdate 11.22.2015
Start: Groff Park, Amherst
Hare: cockmonkey
Pack: Suckit Wrench, Big Piles, Taint Here, Swamp Ass (woof), UFO
What a lovely day for a hash. If only it didn’t apparently be the day that all the families brought their kids to the park. Come on people, it’s almost Thanksgiving, park season is over!
Nothing special during chalk talk, though Taint Here was warned that Swamp Ass would get wet on trail. In my defense, I warned about getting wet on this trail in the detrails. Against me stands the fact that it totally rained within 24 hours of laying this trail. Sorry folks (but not really sorry).
After the normal bullshit the hare was away. And worrying pretty early on about “oh shit, they’re going to see me, oh shit, they’re going to see me.” Um, thanks folks for giving me a very generous cranium start. I needed it! Even though me not realizing quite how much lead I had led to me panicking, and going right through some thorns. So, totally sorry for that folks, but if it makes you feel better, just picture the hare in yoga capris trying to get disentangled from the thorns while they keep sticking higher and higher up her thighs. Those thorns got all up in my business.
Well, there was a pretty spiffy water crossing. At least I’m going to call it a totally spiffy water crossing. I’m really not sure whether to go with “sorry” or “you’re welcome” – but it sure was fun to watch/listen to you folks cross it. But lets celebrate with some Fistmas beer.
Off for some more in and around, with some spiked hot chocolate before going back to start.
Now, if you weren’t there you missed one hell of a sunset. Seriously. GORGEOUS. And most of the kids were gone. But I’ve got nothing on what was up with that random ass potluck that arrived in the middle of circle.
No shits were given about cranium gear in circle (cause we decided to be pansies about the cold). OMG ANARCHY AT THE HASH!
Feedback for the hare: epic conversation, really shitty, very wet for UFO, and how being at the back of the hash gives the best view of butts. By the way, it’s totally true, one of the perks of being slow.
With such a small pack that meandered in, a social was called for FRB, FBI, and DFL.
Big Piles drank for getting older, and Tasty Topple drank for her offspring getting older.
Blood on Trail was combined with Wet on Trail (oh baby), which got cockmonkey, Tasty Topple, UFO, and Taint Here (standing in for Swamp Ass who fell in three times).
Backsliders: UFO & Taint Here
Nerd Names & Digitizing: Big Piles, Tasty Topple, UFO, Suckit Wrench, and Taint Here. And then we finished up with Kilted Hashers w/ no Kilts (naughty naughty).
Then off for tacos and margaritas, and making plans for Buffett (July 15-17, 2016, Miller’s Falls Rod & Gun Club)
HVH3 #321 | Hashmas
Gather one, gather all, for a Hashmas celebration.
Anticock has put out the call, for a trail starting at the familiar Harp, and encouraged personal decoration. Stunt Cock took to heart and showed up in his big red truck as Santa, while amongst the others one could see Santa hats and stockings (hung with care).
Present: Big Piles, Stunt Cock, it’s always soft, Suckit Wrench, cockmonkey, Just Zach (Tex), Two Minute Ride, Celine Ding-Dong, Just Tony.
The hare snuck off to get trail started, and left us a little present behind. No, not that sort of present, you sickos. It was a chalk talk without the talk. Does this mean we’re free to misinterpret anything we want and then call the hare out on what doesn’t match up? On the bright side, things looked relatively familiar, so after some musing about less discernible blotches, off we went.
It wasn’t too far until a song check with a recommendation to sing something long. Turns out the hare was within ear-shot waiting with beverage (wine) and cookies. Location meant that lots of folks walking dogs walked through this disreputable bunch of wanks embibing. Including a group with four corgis (daaaaaaaw).
Then at the second beer check the someone gave a great enactment of the Battle of the Bulge, complete with gas attack. Miraculously, no one died. Well.. something may have crawled up someone’s ass and died… it smelled that bad, but no one wanted to check. This greatly shortened the amount of time we were willing to wait at the beer check to give a cranium start. Within short order the hare was snared and then we finished our meander back to the Harp.
The hare was variously harassed/commended for their trail. I mean, huzzah for trail!
FRB was shared by it’s always soft and Suckit Wrench, and cockmonkey by default FBI. Then we just made DFL a social because it was pretty much a group meander in. And what generally follows a social in cool weather? Cranium Gear in Circle. Good job you wanks (Big Piles, Two Minute Ride, Celine Ding-Dong, and Stunt Cock).
it’s always soft came in for lost shit on trail (wallet, at start), and of course, when one kilt drinks, all kilts drink. And then why not have the unkilted hashers drink (Big Piles, Anticock, Suckit Wrench, Two Minute Ride, Celine Ding-Dong, and cockmonkey). Regardless of missing kilt, Two Minute Ride had a pretty glorious coat.
Big Piles, cockmonkey, and Suckit Wrench all were shamefully wearing matching analversary sweat shirts (does it count when they’re functioning as a happi coat? whatever, more beer).
Our backsliders returned to the fold were: Just Tex, Just Tony, Two Minute Ride, it’s always soft, and Celine Ding-Dong.
Celine had to drink for Biological Warfare on Trail and then again for his December Birthday.
Stunt Cock was called out for overachieving, and while he wore the Santa suit due to a promise of a costume by Anticock, we were pretty happy AC didn’t wear the threatened costume. Oh dear lord, our eyes. After Anticock’s song, several people considered converting to Judiasim
Somewhere in this mess it was noted that Just Tony with his current hair arrangement has a resemblance to Charles Manson, with “Chuckles Manson” being tossed around. On the topic of Just Tony, he also had to drink for being a trail mark, and both he and Two Minute Ride drank for excessive injury to their middle fingers this current month, then Just Tony and Celine drank for air pollution.
The On-After brought up the very important point of how have we never had ass checks on trail? And how would one mark them? I have some valiant attempts that were made to sketch one, but largely they look like someone’s shitting themselves rather than mooning.
Buffett plotting was had (and some of it quickly forgotten regardless of notes) and impulse purchases were made from the men’s room vending machine. We definitely had at least 50 cents worth of fun out of the “Mini Stimulators” purchased.