NYCH3 # 1058

NYCH3 1058, June 30, 2004

HARES: Fairy Queen & Sujan

Start: Canal and West B’way

On In: Rudy’s Sports Bar

Scribe: Cockstar





“For centuries, the Japanese haiku has been one of the world’s most dazzling poetic forms, capturing the sublime beauty of nature in just three short lines — the croak of the bullfrog, the buzzing of the dragonfly, the shriek of the cicada, the scream of the cormorant.”


The Hash haiku is a relatively new art form, adopted from the Japanese haiku by our scribe Cockstar.  It captures the fuzzy fish bowl state into which we drink ourselves each week.  In just three short lines – we get the coordinates of the trail, the steady flow of beer and the debaucherous/stupid/leacherous behavior of our fellow hashers.


Just so you know, I did some basic research on how to craft the Hash haiku and here’s what I found:


“In order to write a Haiku, you must be in a state of relaxation.” 


When I wrote the haikus last Wednesday night, I was drunk.


“You might want to listen to some Japanese inspirational music to help you ideas start flowing.”


I turned on Letterman and went to the fridge to get another beer.


“Haikus can be written about anything.”


Good.  I’m going to write about a bunch of sweaty drunks who r*n to a different bar every week.


“Most people write their haikus on nature and their daily lives.”


Nature!  What nature.  This is f***’n New York City!  In my daily life, I r*n and I drink.  So there!  Like I said; I’m going to write about a bunch of stinky r*nning freaks who are drunks.



“The three lines of the haiku create a feeling which describes the poet’s emotions.”


I don’t know if you can call me a poet.  Cockstar, maybe.  But poet is really pushing it.  Anyhoo, I’m the stinkin’ scribe who is forced to come up with creative ideas to memorialize these r*ns so here’s how I was feeling:


The r*n:


Canal and Broadway

the start; crossed Canal two times,

pissing off hashers.


Around the court house,

west towards the Hudson River,

on to Battery Park.


The usual bridge,

by the Financial Center,

then to Stone Street bars.


Blew past the beer check —

new Jeremy’s on Front Street,

to Rudy’s Sports Bar.


The down-downs:


With two virgin hares,

no JMs at the on-in,

the hash was a blast.


Hash Rule 351:

don’t run your co-worker’s hash.

So Rich drank a beer.


Called up next to drink,

our visitors and virgins.

Too many to name.


Carla and Cockstar.

Beer check at new Jeremy’s.

Tits out for the boys.


Rick or Bon Jovi,

Biked Tetons ten degree grade.

Took escalator.


Dave Long for nipples,

bleeding profusely at NASS,

gave Band-Aids to Jean


Jail bait runner up

Valentina downed a beer.

Don’t really know why.


Scot Gleason was next.

Saw his “baby” Fairy Queen

set trail with Sujan.


Ass hole of the week

Kim.  Paid her hash cash in dimes,

quarters and pennies.



On out.