Three Hashes, One Recap and an Excuse to Drink Beer!

Oh Eff Me.  How do these Hashes get away from me so quickly?  In the past three weeks New Haven Hash House Harriers have had three Hashes and a figurative ass-load of new traditions thrust upon us!

I need to get you to the most recent Hash, the Rising Sun Hash, which was Hared by the wiley, bicycle-stealing Tijuana Donkey Fluffer and formerly Just Ed, a.k.a Superman in Underpants.
You got a beer? You Hash, so I’ll assume you’re responding “Oh F*cking yes,” as you settle in, closing one eye as you read so as not to double-image the shit out of this posting (this was an awkward sentence, so please feel free to squint harder and re-read). Cue the harp strums and bleary Gilligan’s Island-style dream-sequence graphics as we travel to the afternoon of Saturday, August 2nd.
 Epic Shiggy, New Shoes and Cheese It, The Cops! 
Milford PD

Saturday’s 154th New Haven Hash House Harriers Hash may not have been the Hash that hallmark Hashes are made of, but then again, I’d be hard-pressed to conjure a more perfecter (yep, I said “perfecter”) Hash. 

As you’ll recall from past posts, this was Hare Mathole’s August Holiday Hash, an irreverent celebration of all that’s not celebrated in our most sweltering month.  Can celebration and conflagration be interchanged here?  Oh hell yes.  Hell to the effing yes…
Mathole dodged the rain bullet this time (his last Haring was a soggy morass of three-legged antics, so he was due for reprieve).  But was it to be a celebrated Sh*tty Hash?  History will be the true judge, but until this Hash is in our past this posting will need to serve as the official record.
Don’tYouDareCloseYourEyes came way too early (go figure), cleverly representing Veteran’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, International Beer Day and Festivus, but he was quickly shown up by Tijuana Donkey Fluffer’s awe-inspiring Cat Eye T-Shirt Festival gear (who knew it was even a holiday?).
Then the shit got real. Just Ed shows up and just after unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a Superman S. he then drops trou, not knowing that his dramatic presentation was thwarted by Kryptonite, dropping his Superman Underoos with said trou, leaving him in the ShopRite parking lot doing the Superior Dance in his underpants like he had the bag of chips to be all that, but instead he was just the Superman-wearing-t-shirt-in-his-underpants-guy-in-the-Milford-parking-lot attracting looks of confusion from shoppers and dropped eyes from Hashers.  Shameful, right?
In comes Bleeding Gash to the rescue.  WTF? Again, I ask, WTF? Darth Vader with a t-shirt reading “May The Fourth Be With You.”  Coolio.  I’m down with that. But the Baby New Year Sash and requisite diaper? Really? And not just a diaper. Or even an Adult Diaper. Bleeding Gash approached this like the first time he bought condoms, throwing the first “diaper” product he found on the counter. Fer christsake, he didn’t even buy a Snickers bar to cloak his purchase! Amateur…  In his haste Gash bought Adult Pads and not diapers, which meant he had some serious duct-tape work ahead of him.
It was not a pretty sight, indeed.  Shortly after the On-Out Hashers found themselves Song-checking at an actual watering hole, or to clarify, a pond hidden among the piles of Canada goose shit.  Waiting for the DFL Hashers to show up our clever banter is silenced when a Milford PD cruiser pulls up near our gathering. Oh great, we’re all dressed like a-holes and it’s quite likely there’s a load blooming in Gash’s make-shift diaper. Cop gets calmly out of the front passenger seat with only the slightest glance, reaches back and opens the back door. Who pops out? Goddamn Tap That Teacher, who giddily dances up to the check. She claims the cops offered her a ride, but several of us suspect she lured them in with talk of handcuff play. We may never know.
The balance of the Hash was certainly Hasherific, and was highlighted by Mathole’s trail that had us treking trough at least 10, maybe 11 yards of off-road shiggy. We were out before we even knew we were in, if you know what I mean. As mentioned above, shiggy as hell.
On-In was highlighted with more flagrant behavior from TTT as she latched on to the sole Virgin’s hand, dragging him to a shared title of DFL. Oh, and nary a Hasher escaped the punishment of false accusations and and the requisite punitive beers. Aaaaahh, punishment! Highlight of On-After was Just Linda’s belief that things written in this post are true and directive in nature, so when the site said “Wear new shoes” she happily obliged. Hash lies are the sweetest lies of all!
Now go refresh your beer.
Impromptu Out-Of-Towners Welcome Hash!
It’s been well-documented that our own Five Minute Layover has been road-tripping with her mini-chicas for the past 10 weeks (welcome home, FML!), where she’s successfully ferreted out all manner of new and obscene Hash traditions, as well as all manner of new and obscene nationwide Hashers. On Tuesday, August 5th, NH4 (or NHH3, if you’d like – Don’t care what you call us, just call.  Seriously), welcomed FML’s new-found bestie Trifukta from Phoenix at an impromptu Hash Hared by Hentai Me Down with an On-Out at our watering hole of choice O’Toole’s (not to be confused with Mathole’s actual Canada goose-shit laden watering hole in Milford). The Hash was small, but size doesn’t really matter, right? Tap That Teacher and Don’tYouDareCloseYourEyes represented from NH4 while Penis Fly Trap and Duck Duck Oops from Skull and Boners joined in, as well, rounding out our Evening-O-Thrills!
Hentai’s ad-lib trail was marked with the obligatory wander around New Haven’s greens, and, quite surprisingly, inveterate DFL Hasher TTT forged our way out of a shitty trail. Beer would soon be near!
We hopped an urban fence (Don’tYouDare did this quite lamely, in hindsight) and soon found ourselves at the First Beer Check, Only Beer Check, and On-In. Who the hell wants to Hash when there are war stories to be told.
So there we were, in a random parking lot, drinking giant PBRs out of Hentai’s tiny Dixie Cups (BTW, Hentai had a PBR Check on trail, which called for a Piggy Back Ride, but the Hashers kind of blew him off and assumed it was a Package, Boob, Rear Check, which we accommodated). We were close enough to the On-Out, which would also be the On-In that it was mutually decided that Hashing should end and bullshitting about Hashing adventures begin. And the bullshit commenced…
And then Trifuckta (who, coincidentally spells it Triph Uckta, but who in Arizona knows anything about spelling?) breaks into his epic tale of Leeroy Jenkins, disrupting Circles with unexpected nudity and an irreverent sense of willy-nilly brouhaha as yet unseen on the East Coast (even at Skull and Boners Hasehes!).  Based upon Some YouTube Clip from Some Video Game Leeroy Jenkins has become the harbinger of all that is melee-ish, and has even warranted it’s own patch. Essentially, per Trifuckta / Triph Uckta, one simply and covertly strips down to pure birthday-suitness and then yells / decries “Leeroy Jenkins!” with all the fervor one can muster while wearing nakedness and then run among the masses with the intent of taking all controll from the RA, which likely isn’t too hard.
We listened in awe. Nakedness? Hashiness? Irreverenceness? We were IN!
Trifuckta went on to explain that once you Leeroy Jenkins (yes, a noun and a verb) you’ve a moral obligation to assume the naked and running position whenever anyone yells Leeroy Jenkins.  Failure to do so could very well result in the stripping of your Leeroy Jenkins patch.
On a side note:  Once you’ve dropped undies and have run around with your assets in the wind is there anything that would prohibit you from doing the same in the future? Could pointing and laughing from your fellow Hashers become worse? I think not.
Fast Forward to Saturday, August 16th! Got beer?
Tijuana Donkey Fluffer’s Rising Sun Hash (co-hared by Just Ed):
 habu-sake-japanese-snake-wine 7
Another beautiful day in Branford, and the weekend-abandoned Branford Train  Station was the perfect spot for an On-Out (TDF had explained via MeetUp his house would only accommodate 3.5 midgets, which makes me wonder vertically or horizontally).  Cops only drove by once and actually sped up upon seeing Hashers – TTT was not to pop out of another official vehicle.  Alas!  Trail was live, and there was a promise of illicit / illegal booze at the On-In.
Trail was shitty, which it to say, it was shitty in the shittiest of shit-for-trail-marking-trails possible ways, yet we persevered!
TDF introduced this as an authentic Okinawa, Japan trail (which Don’tYouDare, Bleeding Gash and TDF had run before, but let it be known Don’tYouDare ran the Okinawa Hash the same year that rat-bastard TDF was born, goddammit).  And, introducing a new component to the NH4 Hashes he introduced the BC25 Check!  In essence, there was beer to be found within twenty five feet / yards of the BC (units of measure are quite subjective when Hashing, which you all know).
Only half the assembled kennel made it to the Beer Quest, as trail doubled back upon itself and Hashers (read: TTT) opted to chillax sans beer until the true Hashers  reappeared.  Bleeding Gash ran completely past the Beer Quest, which kind of sucked as he was all hell-bent on being FRB and forsaking a giant bottle of refreshing malt liquor (en serio?).e
All ended with a poorly-executed limbo at the On-In (Who knew TTT had a set of stolen fast-food restaurant cordoning-off thingies in her trunk?!?!) where TTT claimed FRB and virgin Hector was DFL.  And then it got kind of good.
Having about a dozen-ish past-Hash Hashers tucked into the back corner of a quiet train station parking lot made for an amusing time as we we collectively lacked the motivation to find an On After.  Beer was consumed, accusations were made and then we consumed more beer.  Tap That Teacher struck Hasher-Stealing-From-A-Child-Gold on trail when she latched onto a bicycle even smaller than her.  And then at some point TDF took possession, riding it like a clown car into circle for Down Downs with co-Hare Just Ed.
The Naming Inquisition of Just Ed revealed he seems to have issues following up on phone calls with the ladies and that, while frequently vying for FRB, he’s surprising not so fast on his feet when answering odd questions thrown at him by fellow Hashers.  He was banished from Circle while a decision was made, and finally rode back on Tijuana Donkey Fluffer’s midget bicycle handle bars.  And now, I’d like to introduce the the Hashing masses, Back Tits McGee!
Okay, it was a bit of a stretch based upon a foolish moment of back tits horny-ness from a trivia night a few days before, but it struck Back Tits like a giant set of, well, back tits, and he was left shocked and appalled that he was not awarded one of Hashing’s more Cool Kids Names, so we considered the naming a great success!
TDF then extended the celebration by sharing shots of the Habu Sake he smuggled back from Okinawa on his last tour there.  Imagine, if you will, a vile, rice-based alcohol in which a poisonous snake was killed and then allowed to ferment in to the point its scales began to break off and drift in the boozy mix.  Got it?  Bad alcohol?  Check!  Dead snake?  Check!  Warmed by the summer sun to enhance boozy-snakey goodness?  Check!  We all bravely drank, and Just Linda only threw up a little.
So this now-too-long story of three Hashes seems to be winding down, but wait! There’s more!
TDF’s On After was cooling down comfortably as dusk started to overtake the train station parking lot.  At some point Hentai Me Down and Just Linda get up and head behind a car at the edge of the lot.  We, as Hashers, conveniently pay no mind to the whispering and covert nature of their escape because, well, we’d all been drinking and our ability to focus sharply was admittedly lacking.
And then, out of the darkening dusk comes the cry “LEEROY JENKINS!!!”  And there are Hentai and Just Linda bare-ass naked and running like hell (quite racist behavior) along the edge of the parking lot. TDF stops riding the bike and stands to see the spectacle, and just as he utters something about Peter Griffin we see Just Linda bottom out on her stride.  The ensuing crash and burn played out as slowly for us as it likely did for her.  High speed, no protective clothing and the unforgiving parking lot surface.  It was a perfect Hash, indeed!



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