NYCH3 #1114


NYCH3 #1114

Date: Wednesday, July 13th, 2005

Start: 79th Street & Broadway

Hares:  Joe & Lizz

On-in:  Merrion Swuare, 95th Street & 2nd Avenue

Scribe:  Flaccido Domingo


“There are only two things I can’t stand in this world:  People who are intolerant of other people’s cultures, and the Dutch.” – Nigel Powers


7:15 on a hot and humid Wednesday evening.  A pack numbering well over 50.  About a dozen virgins standing around with an aura of excitement one usually associates with the beginning of an Amway recruitment meeting.  And no hares.  Finally somebody shows up with a box and chalk, Mean Jean calls things to order, we get an abbreviated chalk talk, and we’re off.


East to the Museum of Natural History, then into the park where we find a vicious circle jerk.  Then south and east through the park, to emerge by the Plaza Hotel.  From there things got weird.  Real trail went east to the river.  But somehow another trail got set leading us from the Plaza south and west to the Zeigfield Theater which was premiering the Wedding Chaser.  Personally I think somebody who knows about hashing found the check and decided to have a good laugh at the expense of the pack.  Mind you, having fun at the expense of the pack is totally acceptable, but that’s the hare’s prerogative.  (“He can’t do that to our pledges – only we can do that to our pledges.”)


Regardless, after much wandering around, the bulk of the pack made it back to the 59th Street check and then found actual trail heading due east.  From there we turned north and pretty much stayed pointing in that direction all the way to the on-in.


Once there, the pack assembled in a sweaty mass and called to order what seems to have become the weekly Meeting of the Disgruntled Pack Committee.  First order of business was a Declaration of What the F*&k?, which passed unanimously.  Next the Grand Inquisitor brought forth the hares for an explanation.  The hares flatly denied sending the trail south of 59th street, and offered the compelling proof that they never even had any blue chalk.  There was talk of a full body cavity search for at least one of the hares, but that idea didn’t fly. So after much harrumpfing and sideways glances, the pack decided to take them on the word.  That there would be no lynching today.  A member then proposed a motion that the Declaration of What the F*&k? be amended to a Declaration of Oh Well, What the F*&k…  Motion was seconded and once again passed, but not unanimously.  Finally a Presiding Officer proposed that if the pack can’t have hare blood, they can at least have beer.  With that, the meeting was brought to a close.


After pizza had been eaten, beer had been consumed, cigarettes had been smoked, the JM’s gathered the blood thirsty (oops, beer thirsty) pack into the circle for down-downs.  [Editor’s Note:  not to be outdone, the three women sitting at a table trying to have dinner apparently issued their own Declaration of What the F*&k? once the circle got full steam.]


  • What can we say about the hares?  Joe and Lizz set a magnificent trail.  Unfortunately, not a single person actually finished the trail.  Miraculously too, this trail isn’t even in the running for worst trail of the year.  (Congrats Dave & Junior – you’re still #1!)
  • And the winner of the award for Best Hare to Forget to Tell a Dozen Virgin Hashers About the Hotline Before His Trail Got Everybody Lost is…  Joe
  • Virgins (no visitors today) – Damned if I know their names.  I think there was a Chau, an Alexandra, a Cheryl, and a whole bunch of others.  Although props go to Cheryl for flashing her sports bra to the crowd.  And when asked why she didn’t actually flash her tits, her answer was “I would have, but nobody asked.”  This kid definitely has potential.  Remember everybody, you have to ask…
  • Cockstar earned a free beer for being the first one in, grabbing her bag, going to the bathroom to change, getting naked, and realizing that she hadn’t grabbed her bag.  Solid work.  (Insert Cockstar patented laugh/snort here.)  To add to the vivid imagery, Mean Jean shared with the crowd that Cockstar had gotten a bikini wax that morning.  (No laugh/snort on that one though.)
  • Your faithful scribe (that’s me) was then called to the mat to explain how it was that I was the designated sweeper and yet nobody ever saw me on trail.  (See above for an answer.)  Oh the injustice of it all.  I swept!  I swept!
  • Pamela – Happy Birthday F*&k You!  Proving that early-stage Alzheimer’s has already set in, her birthday was actually a few weeks ago.
  • Kerry – Hash cash includes pizza at the on-in, sweetheart.  No need to swallow a fly on trail.  But kudos for being the type who swallows.
  • DFL’er Crofty, who had a short story to tell to explain why he was Dead F*&kin’ Last.  When I awoke he was saying “Chapter 7:  So then I was 3 years old…”  I went back to sleep.
  • And finally, A$$hole of the Week went to Booty Call.  Oops, wait.  Sorry about that.  I’m using the Write-up Template and forgot to change that.  AOTW honors instead went to Cockstar and Joe.  Cockstar triumphantly leading the pack down to the Zeigfield Theater, and Joe for not being diligent enough to make sure there were no other trails in the vicinity of his trail.


On-in was fun, pizza was eaten, merriment had by all (expect those three women trying to eat dinner).  The hares were genuinely sorry everybody got lost.  Crofty is still at the on-in telling his short story.  Booty Call did NOT get a down-down.  Perhaps an oversight on the JM’s part.  But the hash cash did kinda run out early.  What’s up with that?


Next week’s lesson in trail setting:  “New Math:  $3 pints is good, $2 pints is better.”