NYCH3 # 1084 – Winter Holidaze R*n

NYCH3 #1084

Start:  The Chorus Tree, Fulton St pedestrian mall at the Seaport

Hares:  Santa’s Sluts (Wet Connection, Cockstar, Sarah Downunder, Mean Jean)

On-in:  The Patriot, Church & Chambers

Date: December 19th, 2004

Scribe:  Flaccido Domingo

In attendance:  Cockstar, Wet Connection, Sarah Down Under, Mean Jean and a bunch of other boobs.  Oh wait, that’s not quite correct.  I think I also saw HUA, Dave long, Magoo, Meat Balls, Haolewood, Sean, Jon, Alice, Alice, who the f*&k is Alice?, Karen Z., Steve, Rob, Lizz (spelled like…), Carla, Bottom, Yellow Smellow, Sideshow Bob, StEva, Fast American Dave, Pearl Necklace, Dave Long, Peter & Leslie, Booty Call, Ed Lunch, Jumping Jack Gash, Crazy Bob, Chad, Mastercard, me




The website said the start would be at “The Chorus Tree on the Fulton Street pedestrian mall” or some such thing.  As Booger once said, “What the f*&k is a frush?”  Sure, it has no bearing but I couldn’t think of a famous movie line that referenced chorus trees.  Sue me.  Sure enough there was a massive tree decorated with very jolly men singing away in the freezing cold.  I mean really really jolly.  Eerie kind of jolly.  Probably drug-induced jolly.  But as one wise hasher pointed out, “hey, we sing too!”


I’d go on about the chorus tree, but that’s not the real story of the day.  Oh no, not even close.  Picture this if you will:  MJ as the Virgin Mary.  Short silk dress (a nightie, really), tight black bra, fishnet stockings, heels, and a shawl with “976-EAT-MARY” written on the back.  Cockstar as er, um, santa?  Veeeerrrryyyy tight red velvet dress with white santa-hat frills along the hemline and across the top of her chest, a slit up the front of the dress that went “way too high” according to Cockstar, a santa-hat, and best I could tell not a lick of anything underneath.  As scribe I insisted that I had to verify this for myself but she would have nothing of it.  Wet Connection as, well, I‘m not sure as what.  But it caused one hasher who will remain anonymous to simply say “Damn…”  Tight black top, matching (short) skirt, white feather boa, and black boots with 3 inch heels.  And to round out the equation Sarah Down Under as the fourth Santa’s Slut.  She too in a painted on black outfit, short skirt, black boots, black wig, and a gift tag that read “To: bad children / From: Santa”.  All I could say was “Damn…” again.  If you weren’t in the holiday spirit prior, I guarantee you were after.


If the picture is still not forming in your mind, I offer the following anecdotal evidence:  As we walked to the corner to drop our bags, some parents covered their children’s eyes (I’m not making this up).  Tight as her dress was, even Magoo could have spotted that it was possible to hang Christmas ornaments on Cockstar’s chest.  During the chalk talk, Bottom had to stand in for the hares and make the actual chalk marks for the Virgins and Visitors, since none of them could bend over in their outfits.  It was the yuletide version of Pimps Down, Ho’s Up.  It was, truly, magnificent.  And then they sent us away.  The cruelty of it all.


Down through the financial district, boob check, another boob check, through Battery Park, Past the Ferry Terminal, northbound under the FDR, through the seaport and past the fish markets (yes Yellow Smellow, they have to smell that way – they’re fish markets), under the Brooklyn Bridge, might have been another boob check, west past City Hall (sort of – I was trying to shortcut again), uptown a few blocks, west past some other neighborhood, through Fast American Dave’s vomit (ok, that part I’m making up), and into some small triangular park that I’d try to name but would probably get wrong and then have to do a down down for misnaming.  There we were treated to festive eggnog and more quality time with santa’s sluts.  So so yummy.  For the record, I didn’t have any eggnog.


A hop, skip and a jump away we found ourselves at the oft-visited Patriot where we had to tote our own bags upstairs.  Did I mention the outfits were tight?  Mmmmm, so tight.  There the lovely Katya served us PBR Holiday Fest Lager, Bass Christmas Ale, Guinness Yuletide Stout, and the traditional burgers and fries.


And of course, the down downs:

          Santa’s Sluts.  Not just because they set trail, but also because Dave long was correct to recognize that any time you see women dressed that way, the proper course of action is to try to get them to drink heavily.  Good heads up thinking by the JM.  (Atypically.)

          A down-down might have been given to the “least Xmas’y”.  If you saw the notes Dave gave me from the circle, you’d forgive me for the lack of clarity.

          Virgins & Visitors.  There were definitely some there, but again the notes are a bit vague.  Sorry.

          Leslie because in her mind Sideshow Bob and Peter are so interchangeable that on the trail she couldn’t tell who was who.  Although the hash encourages such morally “adventurous” behavior, we do expect a modicum of discretion.

          Mean Jean for bragging about her quick release bra.  But it gets better.  Fast American Dave was called to the floor to demonstrate how easy it was to unsnap the thing.  You can imagine where this is going.  After a minute or so of pretty sad fumbling, Dave Long called a stop to the nonsense and make them both drink.  Very King Solomon of him, if you ask me.

          StEva got called up and the crowd learned of their fateful trip to Katonah for a hash.  Apparently they had made no effort to investigate where the hash was, how’d they get there from the train station, etc.  Round trip Metrorail tickets:  $30+, Hash Cash:  $15, Down Down $0, the poor souls on the train who had to watch their PDA:  Priceless.

          Meat Balls rounded out the list of offenses for his behavior on Friday night’s hash.  In an attempt to shortcut he bee-lined to trail marks he’d seen on the way to the start.  Dutifully following the marks he soon found himself at Wednesday night’s on-in.  Solid work, eh?  Quick trip home, a shower, and then to the Friday on-in hoping nobody was the wiser.  Nice try mon ami.


Some random thoughts:

          If nobody had told him, Ed Lunch would definitely have blinded himself with a digital camera when he tried to take a picture with the camera facing the wrong way.

          Pearl Necklace seemed shocked and surprised to discover that members of the pack had vandalized one of the boob checks to make it resemble another part of the male anatomy.  This shocked her?  She’s been hashing how long?

          Very late in the evening a virgin was asked whether she had enjoyed herself and if she would come back.  Her answer was “No, I don’t think so.  Its kind of appalling how much you people drink and the way you behave.”  Again, this was very late in the evening.  The question of “what the f*&k she was still doing there” went unasked and unanswered.

          Cockstar can verify this:  When Mean Jean left she was so tuned in that she made more twists and turns than existed on the entire trail.  And she was only going to the corner to get a cab.  Quite amusing indeed.


In closing, a parable:


So the teacher says “Ok class, if there are seven birds sitting on a telephone wire, and two of them fly away, how many are left sitting on the wire?”  Little Timmy raises his hand and says “None!  Because when one bird flies away they all fly away!”  The teacher smiles and says “Well, that’s not the answer I was looking for, but I like the way you think Timmy.”


The next day Timmy goes up to the teacher and says “If there are three women eating ice cream –  one eating it with a spoon, another eating it by biting into the ice cream, and the third by licking the ice cream – how can you tell which one is married?”  The teacher thinks and says “the one licking the ice cream?”  Timmy says “No, the one with the wedding ring.  But I like the way you think!”


And thus another hasher was born…


On out.