February 23 2003

Swells Like Torn An*s' Contra Hash
February 23, 2003

It was a gray, chilly day, with intermittent drizzle. A small pack
had gathered at T's Pub on Comm Ave. Present were: Anal Avenger, Cum
Chowdah, Just Elizabeth, Hot For Jizz, One Drunk Walking, Puff-n-
Stuff (scribe and purveyor of illicit substances), Stuff Me, and our
hare du jour, Swells Like Torn An*s. After letting HST slide for
almost an hour, to around 3:00 – we were praying for virgins, but
alas, there were none - the somewhat reluctant pack downed the rest
of their pre-lube beverages and gathered outside for a chalk talk.
Marks for the first leg were fairly standard, with chalk in both
stick and carpenter's form.

Torn An*s took off like a fart in a gale of wind. We gave him
something like a five-minute cranium start, and loaded up the Hot For
Jizz-mobile as an impromptu bag car. The pack followed a series of
circle jerks around Allston-Brighton. Marks were cleverly hidden,
sometimes so cleverly that the pack got COMPLETELY LOST. Once we
found ourselves, though, and second-guessed the hare, we found
ourselves running back to "A" (how was HFJ going to drive the bag car
anywhere when he was running trail?)

One Drunk was very late in showing up, and we began to wonder if he
was lost, yet again. The overachievers (HFJ, AA, and your humble
scribe), who'd been thrashing through the snow in Rumney the day
before, recounted the story for the rest of the pack. It seems that
the Boston Hash poster child had gotten himself mislocated on the
previous evening. We even composed a song for him, to the tune
of "Frere Jacques":

Where is One Drunk?
Where is One Drunk?
We don't know
We don't know
Hashing through the shiggy
Hashing through the shiggy
Lost on trail
Lost on trail

…or something like that. We were about to give up on him, when he
shuffled in with his usual abashed grin, DFL by half an hour at
least. Just Elizabeth and Hot For Jizz were having a lively debate
about whether the maple leaf on her shirt was actually something
called a "London Plain". The Canadian and I both agreed that it was a
maple leaf (what the hell is a London Plain, anyway?) Our hare then
gave us the news that this was just the first beer check – and that
there would be different marks for the next leg of the trail. They
were rounded "W"s (butt cheeks? whatever) – they looked a lot like
Deposits In The Rear's trail mark, but modified to represent checks,
falses, etc.

We were finally motivated to follow trail at 4:45 or so. Trail? I'm
sorry, I meant, "more circle jerking around Allston." Beer Check #2
turned out to be at Great Scott's, a bar that has supposedly banned
the hash. But we found a table and bought some refreshing beverages
regardless. As I entered, the enormous, surly, frat-boy bartender was
telling Hot For Jizz, "You're really starting to annoy me!" Hard to
believe that HFJ got that reaction so quickly, eh? HFJ had been
trying to convince Steroid Boy to use his trail chalk to write "No
Whining" or something on the drink specials board. Stuff Me showed up
at this beer check and began talking about Petting Officer with her
usual happy glow, but she made the mistake of using his nerd name. To
which we raised the chorus of:

Who the f*** is DAVE?

Just Elizabeth started gunning for a hash name when she told a story
about getting drunk at The Dugout and then going to a class… and
One Drunk was late again for BC #2. We were singing the new ODW Theme
Song as he showed up, 20 minutes behind the rest of the pack. Anal
Avenger had started reminiscing about Halloween Hash.

We were attempting, with some success, to get the hare drunk and
prevent him from subjecting us to further circle jerks and pay-as-you-
go beer checks. But still he prevailed. New marks were explained,
something to do with triangles, and he was off into the rain. We
drank a toast to twin porcelain busts of Elvis, high up on Great
Scott's wall, and followed that fool hare again. This leg was shorter
and brought us to The Avenue, yet another college bar on Comm Ave,
and Beer Check #3. We were joined by three latecummers: Impo-Tent,
Hot Tits Houlihan (or, The Hasher Formerly Known As Cockpit), and her
sister, a visiting hasher from Denver called Knees Up. Knees Up
claims to have hashed exactly 69 times… but that could be "hash

By 6:30, our hare was completely ‘faced. Hot For Jizz had, in the
space of 20 minutes, tried and failed to recruit female virgins.
Sugar Plum Fairy arrived and added his name to the latecummers’ list.
At this point we were, unfortunately, listening to another chalk talk
from our inebriated (but undaunted) hare. The marks were in yellow
chalk (good thing, too, because it was dark now), and looked
like "FU"s. This last bit was a straight shot to Our House, a
comfortable dive and perennial hash favorite, for the On-In
(finally). We'd somehow lost Stuff Me at this point, and the
handwriting for my final entries was getting less legible by the
drink. All told, we probably ran less than 3 miles, including the
times we got lost.

The Brubaker beer (*shudder*) was bought, the circle was small, and
lo, there was hare abuse. I was somehow still vertical enough to
serve as RA. Summoned to the circle by the Hairs of [Her] Dickie-di-
do, Torn Anus received comments. "Not enough f***ing virgins on
trail", "Not enough verses in the One Drunk is Lost Song", "Not
enough beer checks." Torn An*s started us singing about how he used
to work in Chicago, in a department store… and several verses
later, we kicked him out of the circle and got down to the business
of naming Just Elizabeth.

The creative gears of the hash were well-greased with alcohol at this
point, and the finalists for her name were: Group Grope, Pounded By
Nippstik, and – the eventual winner - Public Access. It seems that
Just Elizabeth used to be an intern at a public access cable network.
She will be known as Public Access henceforth and was given her down-

Accusations were next, and we had three down-downs for sweat test
failures: Knees Up, Hot Tits/Cockpit, and Impo-Tent. Sugar Plum got a
latecummer down-down as well. Hot For Jizz got the most spectacular
of the evening: a double-tea-bagged down-down for his new shoes.
There was some sort of accusation dispute between Torn An*s and
Public Access, so we had them do a chug-off. It's Hot Tits/Cockpit's
birthday this week, so she got a heartfelt "Happy Birthday, F*** You"
from the circle. And finally, we played a quick game of Spin The
Visitor on the coffee table that was in the center of our circle.
Knees Up did her down-down and balked at a song, but started us on
that one about Dos, a beer. A Mexican beer…

Then we sang the one about Swinging Low, and put this Contra Hash
behind us.

Quotes of the evening:

"Thank god for low-cut jeans."
- male hashers, while ogling female occupant of said jeans at BC #2.

"I can mobilize it, but you're not in the right position."
– Public Access to Impo-Tent. Turns out our newly-named harriette
knows a thing or two about physical therapy. Right after she said
this, she elevated Impo-Tent's leg with a nearby couch pillow and
started to massage it… is she already starting to work on a re-

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