NYCH3 #1142

NYCH3 #1142

Date: Sunday, January 22,2006

Start: 68th and Lex

Hares: Sarah Down Under and Andrew

On-In: American Spirit, 92nd and 2nd Ave.

Scribe: Salt Lick




        A bunch of Hashers fell asleep on trail one Sunday. They started on the UES, they ended on the UES. They did not pass go, they did not collect $500, they did not even get to enter the park.


            So what did they think of the trail?


“It was boring,” Lauren stated, echoing the sentiments of many of her compadres in the most mundane fashion.


“Boring is trite. You have to come up with something better than that,” The Saint declared. “It’s half as good as running in a circle—it’s called a U-turn.”


Mike, always the troublemaker, described it best: “We followed the marks straight to the bar. There was no opportunity for shenanigans.”


        Doesn’t he know that’s what the On-In is FOR?


First came the Down-Downs. Sarah and Andrew drank for failing to run us anywhere exciting and for setting the hotline before the run. The notorious BIV, who made herself cum and for wearing a hat in the circle. Tim for creating his own Prelube by sliming up his crotch with body glide before the r*n. Jillian, spotted with a GPS device. Janet and BIV for retarded comments on trail. Glenda and Mary for new shoes (Glenda later commented she enjoyed the taste.) And AOTW went to your Scribe with a full beer for the following offenses: Outdoing Cockstar with my copious notes, drawing attention to my chest with my Flirting is Not a Crime shirt, and some kind of hideous red mark on the back of my neck.


Steamer pointed to my shirt and rightfully cautioned me that many things that are dangerous are not illegal. So was evidenced by the aforementioned shenanigans, most of which took place on the beer pong table after the Hares slipped out the door once they shouted Hash Cash was gone (roughly four hours after we had started the debauchery).


Note: Children under 13 should not read on unless accompanied by an adult.




Things started getting interesting in the back left corner of the bar. FMIG slapped some maple syrup-flavored chapstick on his lips claiming he felt as though he had just made out with Mrs. Butterworth. Another dirty hasher inquired if he had ever gone down on Aunt Jemima.


On the beer pong table, Dakota informed everyone “nipples don’t do anything for me, but balls do,” as Jenn (my forever virgin) and U.S. Marine Whore tried to distract people with their breasts, FMIG attempted to grow his own, and Lunch showed everyone his bare behind. If that imagery wasn’t enough, picture this: After picking on Erica all night for showing her crack, FMIG poured beer down her pants as she sat innocently on the pool table. Rumor has it she’s become known as “The Plumber” in certain circles.


That’s enough excitement for one Writeup.


–Salt Lick


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