NYCH3#1163 Start: SW corner of Lafayette and Houston Hares: FMIG and Lauren On-In: Ace bar ( Punk-Ass Bitch: Jenn
Start: SW corner of Lafayette and Houston
Hares: FMIG and Lauren
On-In: Ace bar (
Punk-Ass Bitch: Jenn
There was a small gathering of hashers until close to
Considering FMIG was involved with this trail and the only thing to say is that the checks kept everyone at bay is a miracle along the lines of one night’s oil burning for eight. (Ask FMIG if you didn’t understand that one). Most likely Lauren was able to beat some sense into him. The trail went around and around no where in particular and despite surreptitious use of blue chalk and the whole three-or-four-or-whatever-and-your-on thing we eventually made it to the on-in.
The humid evening, a packed bar and a reserved hasher area in the back combined for a tight, sweaty squeeze through many a bar patron. Skeeball tournament anyone? Not only that but the bar didn’t have pitchers so thirsty hasher after thirsty hasher pranced around the waitress (carrying four or so beers at a time) showing her the sharpie marks (made by the hash-cash collecting hares) on our hands to indicate that we were f*cking thirsty.
The hares received accolades for their outstanding use of blue chalk on trail. Visitors included Glory Hole from San Fran, someone from
Mean Jean kept asking for a guy with a beard. I’m not sure if she was calling someone out for a trail offense or beginning to list desirable characteristics in her ideal mate.
Bill, aka Wet Willie, is believed to have started a craze called the pack check and despite him not using it on this trail he received the down-down for someone else’s transgression.
Does Oh Shit actually have competition for next year’s Assh*le of the Year? Could it even be possible? No but for the second time in three weeks Fast American Dave got Assh*le of the Week. This time for running in
FMIG got a down-down for losing the golden toilet seat trophy bestowed at the Annual General Meeting for his Assh*le of the Year award. Why anyone would know or care…
In a cry for help (and some beer) Gillian announced that it was her birthday (or maybe it was the day before or maybe she said last week). Happy 36th!
And per usual we ruined yet another bar’s pool table with pizza grease.