Hash Trash

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!

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 NewHavenH3.com 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):

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!

Run 140: Birthday Boy Hash…AKA …And The Hashers Were Never Seen From Again Hash.
Chilly day as always, but our three birthday boy hares, Cooter Shooter, One Ton Soup and Hentai Me Down wouldn’t let that stop them. Waiting to start hashing in the picturesque lot next to New Haven’s landmark bar Partners Cafe, the early arriving hashers found themselves making ‘friends’ with the stranger who pulled his car into the lot. They asked him, no really, they did, if he happened to have any beer. He replied, “Sure! Come on up!”…and our brave, thirsty, but horribly dumb hashers followed him up a rickety staircase and through a metal door…to God knows where.

TTT went in to find them after radio silence for a few minutes, and found herself in a hipster’s wet dream loft – an amazing hidden space! We thanked Doug for the beers and went back to start the hash. The bastard hares decided to only mark some false trails, not all, so the hounds were exhausted by the first beer check, at old standby O’Toole’s. The second beer check was a bit more difficult, as the large group of foreigners visiting Yale University completely obliterated and hid some of the marks. But make our way to Miya’s Sushi we did! PBR and Sake Bombs all around!

The end of the trail was capped off by one of the hares, who shall remain nameless, (his name has 3 words and one starts with an H), unceremoniously losing his keys. The hounds were forced to re-enter, much to their chagrin, the hipster dream pad to wait out the hares’ search with some -gasp! – craft beers, which our hosts graciously tapped before the Super Bowl party the beer was earmarked for.

Circle was held in the upstairs room of 168 York Street, and Just Chris was renamed…after his favorite Disney character, Aladdin, “Don’t You Dare Close Your Eyes (hold your breath it gets better)”. Which he of course completely loves. And even our pre-party host Just Mike (?) joined us for circle… I think we may have some new hashers, folks!

…and the keys were never seen again.

Run 139: Valley Hash
Another snowy day in CT…shocker, I know. Just Jeff and his co-hare/mentor One Ton Soup put the pack of New Haven, Skull and Boners, Rotten Groton and visiting hashers through the ringer.

Beer check 1 was in a gorgeous spot, over a covered bridge, overlooking a river and small waterfall. Ahhh, good ole PBR! The raucous group then gingerly made their way around the muck and puddles through a wooded area, and over said river, many bypassing the water by clinging precariously to trees and roots…

Some highlights were: Emerging from trail onto someone’s lawn, with said someone eyeing the hashers crawling from the frozen tundra, phone in hand, 9-1 already on the keypad. Searching for trail in a sewage ditch. Speedily r*nning through the grounds of an elementary school, all whilst keeping our faces diverted from the security cameras aimed in our direction (Tijuana Donkey Fluffer really enjoyed the snacks from the bird feeder hanging outside the kindergarten window…). Tequila off the foot in the muck and thorns. And dancing back to the on-in, Just Jeff’s backyard.

The bastard wouldn’t let us do circle in his house, so we were relegated to the rectangle of lawn behind the deck, where we all suffered from burnt eyes and smoke inhalation from the fire pit (though no one fell in thankfully…wink, wink, nudge, nudge).

RA Hentai got all in the group into circle for down downs amidst some rousing songs, and after circle the bastard finally let us into his house (with the caveats of no shoes and ‘Don’t let the cat out!’…as if we would ever do such a thing!) Just Jeff grilled up some tasty burgers and poured some fine whiskey as the evening petered out and hashers were sent packing.

Addendum: Just Jeff was named the next day by the Skull and Boners, by a 100% unanimous vote, “Shut The Fuck Up!”

Run 138: Hangover Hash
Set on one of the warme…umm, I mean frigidest (is that even a word?) days of the winter so far, the hashers followed a trail set by Tap That Teacher around the southern reaches of East Haven. Trail went right by the beach, up through an old folks home, and onto a couple of sections of the Shoreline Greenway Trail.

Nature’s cooler kept our beverages frosty for all who chose to brave the single degree temps and the fading purple flour marks that TTT used to set the trail. A great view over the marshlands and trampling of bunny and deer tracks were some of the highlights. A second mini check brought hot chocolate, grown up or kiddie.

A few unnamed folks (Okay, I’ll rat…it was FML, EZ, Ducky and Taint and One Trick Dick) decided to auto hash the last part of the trail with a field trip to the local liquor store as these hashers were miiiiiggghhhtttyyyy thirsty today. As the sun was setting, we feared (no, really) for the safety of our die-hard hashers who did the entire trail. But all finally arrived, desperately seeking heat and dry clothes.

On-in was at TTT and Cooter Shooter’s place, with stand-in RA Taint No Savior pulling hashers into circle for any damn thing he could think of! (Losing control along the way for a time…) We had visiting hashers, transplants, returning hashers and the same ole drunks too.

The ensuing party was a mix of hashers and nerds…and it seemed each group was a bit frightened by the other! Much food and drink (yes, including absinthe) was had by all. A rousing game of Cards Against Humanity kept the laughs (and slight disgust at the way ours and our friends’ minds work) coming into the wee hours.

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