…on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, gathered in a parking lot near SCSU in New Haven. Mind you, this was no ordinary lot. This was THE place to be: strains of merengue and bachata could be heard from far off car stereos, lawn chairs and grills were plentiful, and the vintage low-riders brought the feel of 1970s Havana to New Haven.
Our hare, Tiajuana Donkey Fluffer (no, it’s not spelled wrong, that’s how he spells it! Come on now), gathered us around and handed a pristine graduation robe to the person who would be graduating next, Taint No Savior, who had refused to wear any collegiate gear at all. Who had the last laugh now Taint? After a brief chalk talk, the live hare set off, confident he would never be snagged. After a few beers in the lot ranging from fancy schmantzy craft beer to PBR Light, the pack set off.
Through knee high grass, goose shit and poison ivy, the pack traipsed, only to be confounded by pink flour, or the lack of it, at our feet. Faceful of Leroy, heading out to the street checking, came upon a shot…the heavy ball used in shot put events, and the pack decided to all give it a try during the first drink (Dark and Stormy-ish something or other…obviously TDF‘s never been to Bermuda).
Back onto trail, smack dab through the lecture hall buildings and labs of SCSU, where Tap That Teacher reminisced about her days, I mean years, there oh so long ago. Through a cemetery, past some dorms, around the football field to a turtle check waiting for the DFL at the time. Can’t remember who it was though… through a parking garage, on past the northern reaches of the school towards the urban jungle of New Haven. A drink check at the side of the road….pint of some God-awful whiskey was found….in a patch of poison ivy no less!!! The pack couldn’t, or wouldn’t, finish it, so on they went, bottle in hand (covered in poison ivy oil, don’t forget).
Onward they went…Smashmouth turning back as his spidey senses started tingling as the pack came into close proximity to mega shaggy….and then inward to West Rock Park they went. Upward too. The pack broke in two as the FRBs Back Tits McGee, Marty “Gimpy” McDie, and Cunt for Red Cocktober…Leroy and Pee Dignity were representing for the ladies I believe, took off r*nning. Bringing up the rear were the old gas bags of Taint No Savior, Bambi’s Bitch, TTT, Cock Can’t Kill Me, and Jersey Shhhhwhore. Sorry Mathole, I have absolutely no idea where you were! Up a never-ending dead-leaf and slate steep hill they went, TTT encouraging her group on with an impromptu dance party (tech on trail, tech on trail!). Even though all she got for her efforts were death stares from the huffing and puffing hashers lying at her feet. Sheesh!
Onward, and upward still the pack travelled, passing many muggles on trail, leaping from rock to rock, encountering sweeping vistas, playing in caves (cough, Leroy, cough). From the FRB group Cunt came back to guide the rest on, back down the mountain, to a swiftly flowing stream. The group stood open mouthed for a second at the realization that the beer, never mind the trail, was across the river. One by one they bravely stepped into the frigid waters, BTM teabagging the damn water for all it was worth, all to be taken down by the slippery, slimy rocks to be found beneath their feet. Mathole tried to carefully pick his way across, but alas, he too was taken down. Taint baptized himself and proselytized for a moment. BTM told a whopper of a tale about saving a flying dog and chasing down some hippies. (Check out our Facebook page for the story straight from the Tits’ mouth).
Back to civilization, the group plodded squishily on, encountering package and boob checks, totally missing a PQ-something or other reward. Or maybe that was just me. Back to Southern, past TTT‘s apts, dorms, party houses, etc. through the campus. Taint supplied anyone who wanted with flavored vodka nips…vanilla and orange mixed together is yum. To the on-in, a small isolated lot 1/4 mile from the cars that the dehydrated pack voted to do circle in.
Down downs were given to BTM, FRB, TTT, DFL. No surprise there… Cock for returning hasher…we don’t care that it takes you an hour to get to us, what the hell man? Pee Dignity and Back Tits did two dogs fucking; Leroy got accolades for carrying the shot the whole way on trail; Cunt, Leroy and Jersey thought they could sit during circle and not get caught; someone pointed, someone had tech, yada yada yada. Taint gave a rousing thank you speech as he will be h3@ding to greener pastures shortly, and a spectacular group hug ensued.
To end, some lazy hashers took advantage of TDF driving and piled 8 into his 5 seater. Taint tried to walk back to the cars, he really did, but after 50 grueling feet he gave up and jumped in as well. On-after was at our favorite sports bar, why Sports Haven of course! Why not? Cheap food, towers of beer and super friendly bartenders ;). What more could your average hasher ask for?
Till next time, On-Out!
Love, the sucker who gets to write these things. TTT
Start point: Off Lufbery Ave. in Wallingford
Hares: Just Loki and Just Mishi
Details: About 3.5 miles, two beer checks. There will be a small section of level 3 shaggy with water potentially up to knee level. This won’t dominate the trail but it may be enough to make a change of shoes/socks desirable. There will be a turkey trail available for the shiggy-averse.
A small group braved the shitty pouring rain to join Mathole (wait…it was pouring on a Mathole trail??? The meteorologists should hire him, no joke!) through a tour of gorgeous, scenic downtown West Haven. The wearing of the green was abundant; even Bleeding Gash wore a green diaper to join in on the festivities! Blobs of pink flour led the pack through the West Haven Green. The racist bastards, otherwise known as the show-off males of the group, Gash, Back Tits McGee and Marty McDie, led the cool chicks, Just Paulette, Just Mishi, Jersey Shhhwhore, and Tap That Teacher. Our outfits, especially Gash’s festive diaper, elicited car honks and stares of disbelief all along the trail.
There was actual more-than-10-feet of shaggy, through the snow and a stream…not sure why the water was green; we’re not gonna think about that right now. An off (on?) the foot of Baileys was found in a park, and then back to the on-out it was!
Circle was stealthily held in the gazebo on the green, stupendously RA’d by Mathole. FRB….one guess. DFL….one guess. Down downs to TTT for losing her shortcutting skills, Gash for cranium gear in circle, Mathole for PBR light…who even knew??? Mishi as a returning hasher, TTT for alcohol abuse. (Should’ve been everyone else for making her laugh, duh). TTT for false acusation, Paulette for wallflowering, Gash & Back Tits for something homosexual I’m sure. Marty and Jersey…..did we even make them drink? Who knows?
On-after at Duffy’s Tavern, birthplace of NH4, with the addition of Just Loki.
As my hash-trasherer predecessor likes to say, hope you have a beer, or three, it’s gonna be a long one….
Friday, Feb. 27th, Hashmat Pub Crawl
Around 15 hashers met at Trinity Bar and Grille to await our guest hare, Rotten Groton’s Binocucock…who pulled his usual shit and showed up a half hour late. But he was armed! With all manner of hair accessories… Adding to Binoc‘s stylings, we had afros, red and green hair, pigtails and tiaras. Chalk talk was had and the hare was off!
So this “crawl”, you know, nice and easy (like our harriettes), from pub to pub was, like the hare, nowhere to be found! A quick stop at Pub #1, I mean a parking lot, brought us a freakin’ gallon of whiskey to share. C’mon Binoc, really??
After a quick stop here, onto Pub #3…or parking lot #2, with a white cooler cleverly hidden in a snow bank filled with Milwaukee’s Beast. After a rousing rendition of Coach Sandusky led by Taint No Savior, the pack carefully made their way down the icy sidewalks. Well, most of us anyways, as Cunnilwontus slipped and the smack of his cranium against the ice could be heard back in Charleston. A quick jaunt into East Rock Park brought us a bottle of Fireball, and a couple of cops patrolling the park. But not to fear…Just Kate, (the cop whisperer), Cunnilwontus and Taint sent them right on their way.
Some time during the “crawl”, Tap That Teacher, being the responsible person we all know she is, lost all of the toe tags. She must have been mugged or something, for sure. Another straight shot back down Orange Street (you rock, Binoc), got us to Christie’s Pub, surely due to the razzing of the hare by the pack due to more parking lots than pubs on the “Pub Crawl”.
Trail ended back at Trinity, and Rotten Groton’s EZ Keyless Entry took RA duties for the evening. Many down, downs were drunk, and our hare was shitfaced – rightfully so, that bastard. I think there may have even been an auction to see who wanted to claim him as their own, but it ended with a game of “No thanks, you can have him!!”
Saturday, Feb. 28th, Hashmat Main Trail (Go get your second beer!!!)
The day started out pretty damn cold, according to the sweet, cute, precious, dainty hare, Tap That Teacher, with 15° and a wind chill of holy fuck! The pack of 35 congregated at Sports Haven, snacking on jalapeño poppers and pretzels, and unlimited Pabst Blue Ribbon, choice beer of hashers and hipsters alike. Who knew?
After a quick chalk talk, led by our stand in RA Emeritus, Hi I’m Gay, in requisite hazmat suit, and hare TTT, the pack was off! Cause for Blindness auto hared, and Malt Lickher and Cunt for Red October were hopelessly lost on trail…or did they skip trail altogether? We may never know… A quick song check in front of IKEA, a meander right by the train yard, onto a spank check towards beer check #1 at El Amigo Felix. (The hare lost her “map” 1/2 mile into trail, so she just had to wing it).
The pack scared the few patrons of the bar, drank their cheap beer, and were on their way. Through some sights at Yale the pack dashed, beating the hare to the next beer check at Wall Street Pizza. Know who else they beat? Hentai Me Down, who left Syracuse 26 hours later than he should’ve, sauntering in the door like he’d been there the whole time just in time for some beer…. nice try.
A dance check and a couple of body part checks later, the pack ran into a BQ25, blackberry brandy (yummmm….you’re welcome), in Wooster Square, then made their way back to Sports Haven. Through a series of unfortunate (fortunate?) events, we were given a private suite overlooking the entire venue. Master Hater took advantage of the floor to ceiling windows to press her ample bosom to the glass to the delight of… all below.
HIG stayed to RA circle – some trangressions: FRB – Bleeding Gash, I’m guessing, DFL – ummm…it wasn’t me, so I have no clue…Binoc maybe? Smashmouth, in his aged state, elected to sit through circle, as those old folk often do. The gaggle of FRBs did a group down-down, and Just Paulette and Skeletwhore did “two dogs fucking”, for wallflowering maybe?? Who knows? I was pretty tipsy by this point. All kilt wearers drank, all visitors, returners, and Cause and Flounder drank for having been at all 8 hashmats. That’s some damn dedication there!
The evening was capped off by a naming for Just Kate….our friend from the south, and by south I mean Jersey. She wasn’t named Cop Whisperer, Jersey Blows (damnit!), or Snookie something or other, but she will now be known by Jersey Shhh-whore. On-after at TTT’s place…. and you’ll never hear those stories unless you were there.
Sunday, Hangover Trail (shot time!!!)
Sunday’s guest hare, Blowhole, of the Skull and Boners, welcomed a group of about 16 hashers to her crib, and plyed them with coffee, booze maybe, and PBR. She dashed off to set trail, and the lazy wankers eventually followed her. The sidewalks were a sheet of ice, and Bambi’s Bitch turned it into his own skating rink. Cunt for Red Cocktober carefully cradled 3 bottles of champagne the entire trail, ensuring they made it safely to their destination, Cafe Romeo, for mimosas.
But were the hashers satisfied with this? Hell no!! We wanted, we needed, more trail! Hentai Me Down drew the short straw and took off running, well sort of jogging, towards downtown. Cunnilwontus serenaded us all at a song check with a biblical, 5 guy type song. what the hell was it even??
The pack immediately lost trail, split up, and met back up at a group sex check…where eagle eyed Faceful of Leroy spotted the hare, eyeballing the proceedings excitedly from around a corner. She and Cunt gave chase….not even Gash nor Marty McDie could’ve kept up with her, but the wily hare dropped a song check as he was about to be pantsed. Damn! Trail ended up at Christie’s, where TTT and Back Tits McGee were denied frosty beverages due to lack of ID. Um, really? Have you seen those two?? Hentai somehow charmed the beers out of the bartender and all was right again.
Cunt took the next leg, using chalk and….ketchup? Hey, hashers are really poorly prepared! (But clever….) Shortcutting was to be had by TTT, Hentai and Cunnil, and the rest of the pack breathlessly arrived shortly after. The damn snow, coming down heavily as it was, dashed any hopes of a third leg, so the group trudged back to Blowhole’s pad. Immature middle school games were played, old school tunes were heard, and this concludes another great Hashmat.
Thanks to all who traveled from near and far to join us, thanks to our guest hares, we apologize to our livers, and pay tribute to Dr. Gonads, without whose troublesome antics Hashmat would’ve never become a reality. On-out wankers!!
Tap That Teacher
…now you may go pee.