Official Organ of the G2FMH3
G2FMH3 Hash # 150 –
Hares: The Roy
Start: Broadway and Houston
On-In: MJ Armstrong’s
Punk Ass Bitch (Scribe): Wet Connection
So I get this note following the Greater Gotham Full Moon Hash’s illustrious 150th r*n from
But now, just a few days before the next GGFM and at least six area hashes later, I’m sitting here wishing that I had those scribbled notes. I didn’t do the write-up and I can’t even seem to find my damn compendium to help jog the memory and fill this page with fodder of GGFMs past (perhaps Burke stole it to destroy incriminating photos of me baring my jog bra, over imbibing, on a monthly Friday-nite basis over the past umpteen years??). Hmmm. Well, if there’s one thing I love about the GGFMH3, it’s that this beloved hash is one of those refreshing once in a Full Moon larks that jumps into the hash calendar and spontaneously comes together in grand style nearly every time. All this fun and frolicking, despite our rather harried — busy or just full of hashes — lives. It’s that easy-breezy thing that keeps the GGFM going so strong, so I’ll take the same approach and just wing it with the write-up.
From what I recall from the GGFMH3 #150 – the start was dark. That is probably a good thing, it being
Rumors ran ragged through the pack at the start…
So, the trail went something like this: we hashed to the left, we hashed to the right, we went down a bit south and then hung a right. We went a bit north, did a shimmy and a shake, we ended up at a beer check and took a little break…
Yes, whew, Mean Jean the Down-Down Machine came through for us. We had “Strip and Go Nakeds” at that little park just south of the 19th Hole (it’s a bad thing when you begin using bars as a geographical reference). From there we went on up to the on-in at M.J. Armstrong’s in the east upper 20s and on down into a great party space that was reminiscent of The Back Page, but without the smell of cat piss and without the ceiling leaking and nearly caving in every time the toilet flushes (don’t tell me you didn’t notice that part of the raining ceiling equation???).
So there we were, in the basement of M.J.’s with our own bar and bartender, a guy who was nothing less than awed by our fast-paced consumption. But was he impressed with our drinking or was he just intimidated by the thought that we may actually be good runners? I dunno, but from his look that evening, the thought has actually crossed my mind that sometimes the bars really do run out of beer when we’re around! In no time, as promised, the quesadillas arrived – and the mozzarella stix, and the chicken wings and fingers – and more beer…and then on to down-downs (while we tried to hold back from the food, with little luck).
So this is where it gets a little tricky, no notes and all. What I recall was a JM half in the bag doling out down-downs and a Scooter in assistance. There were the virgins, visitors (thank you,
Finally, a tribute to the former JMs of the GGFM, including Hoffman (yet another hasher who will be leaving the NYC mix – we’ll miss you Mike!), Scot, Danny, Raybould, etc., all of whom held the reigns, and reigned in the madness of the GGFM over the past nine years. Then a major toast to the grand pooh-bah, mistress who started it all in 1995, Maid Marion Konopf, the GGFM’s founder and Grand Mistress.
From there, the usual on-in antics. I assume that means more beer, maybe some dancing and singing – and more beer. But don’t quote me, I don’t remember much and don’t have the notes. Then I’ll take a guess and assume the usual beer-goggled hook-ups and half-hook-ups, ass-bearing and the like. All good stuff, from what I can remember. Anyway, thanks GGFM for all the fun (and lack of memories) and here’s to 150 more!