GGFM #198

The Truth

Official Organ of the Greater Gotham Full Moon
Hash House Harriers

G2FMH3 Hash #198   – Friday, September 28th, 2007

Hares: Mean Jean the Down Down Machine (and Jumpin' Jack Gash)
On-in: 14th St.   &   8th Ave.
Punk Ass Bitch: Lesley

So while you’re basking in the post-hash glow of a Peter and Lesley trail, here’s a little something to read while you wait for the pizza…

Lauren clearly graduated from the Crawlaholic School of Scribing: wait till the pack has had a few drinks, find some unsuspecting schmo and ask him/her if he/she would like to act as guest scribe for the night. Yes, I fell for it, but I thought I’d have a quiet week at work and would be able to take half an hour off from solving world peace to jot down a few paragraphs on the happenings at the last GGFMH3. But the quest for world peace refused to take a back seat last week, and thus it is, that I am now sitting here on a hot and humid afternoon in August, err, I mean October, trying to recollect what exactly “went down” a week ago on Friday. Without the superior vocabulary of Fire-in-the Piehole, the grammatical correctness of Smashmouth and the literary prowess of Mean Jean, it’s fair to say that I am at a loss. Perhaps to cure this particular case of writer’s block, I should take myself off to the remote Greek island of Kimolos, but that just seems so last month … Instead, I’ll persevere, and remind myself that there’s a reason I only scribe every five years or so.

So, we all gathered at the start at 14th and 8th (all that is, except for Kerry and Doggy Style, who clearly disbelieving of both the hotline and the website, decided that the hare really meant to start the hash at Flannery’s at 14th & 7th – a misdemeanour for which they were justly rewarded later) and I have to say that it was small, yet select, crowd that showed up this particular Friday night. Perhaps, it was something to do with that surprise downpour that occurred a mere hour before the pack was about to take off. Yes, indeed, poor Mean Jean was clobbered by a downpour and her, I’m sure, amazingly-well-laid trail was worthless. However, Jumpin’ Jack Gash was quickly despatched to re-set the first half of the trail. And the pack was instructed to give him a 10-minute start and no de-pantsing (unless your name was Lauren) if/when we caught him. And then we were off, and this, quite frankly, is where it gets fuzzy. I seldom have any clue where I go on a hash, and once I’m taken out of the grid system, it’s a complete puzzle to me. Not that all of this trail was set in numberless streets. Indeed, at one point I recall standing at 17th and 7th – I’m assuming there must have been a check at that point. In fact, I don’t know how many checks MJ had in her original trail, but in order to keep his shorts on, Jumpin’ Jack Gash clearly set lots of checks to keep us – well at least those hashers who check – busy. (More standing around for me – never a bad thing.) I also recall almost hitting Union Square at one point. Almost hitting being key here, as Joe P., who is clearly not content with just having alcohol as a vice, bet Doggy Style $5 that we’d find a check in the middle of said square. But we headed south and away from U.Sq. and Doggy Style was $5 richer.

And, a mile or so later, we ended up at Cody’s – a bar of hash notoriety; an On In that has witnessed much nudity and de-pantsing in its hashing past. However, MJ informed us that Cody’s had not, in fact, been her bar of choice, and that the Emerald Inn, which should have been our On In, had suddenly gotten all fancy on us. And let’s face it, we don’t do fancy – at least not with $20 per person. However, with a mere hour’s warning of our impending arrival, Cody’s once again turned out to be a truly successful On In. The beer flowed and there was so much pasta, that Lunch managed at least 5 trips to the ‘buffet’ table.

And then it was down-down time. The Empress Norma and USMW presided. The Empress, in her tartan trousers, was clearly getting a head start on next year’s Scotland Run, while USMW, in a flowing green frock, was undoubtedly staking a claim on St. Patrick’s Day. And so the down-downs, according to Lauren’s notes, went to:

Hares – MJ and her able assistant, Jumpin’ Jack Gash.
Virgin – John. (Anna Boozer (how’s that for a built-in hash name?) made him come, but she herself didn’t. Well, not until a lot later anyway … ‘Nuff said.)
BIMBOS – Doggy Style & Kerry for turning up at the wrong start location.
Joe P – for screwing up the first check.
Joe P (again) & Doggy Style (again) – for illegal betting on trail.
Red Headed Steve – for returning to the location of his first On In, making him a born again virgin.
Joe P (again) – something about Joey being a tool, but I don’t recall why. You can decide on that for yourselves.
Doggy Style (again) – for being “attacked” by dogs.
Hot Rod – While several male hashers debated whether they really deserved the ‘gentlemen’ moniker pasted to the toilet door, Hot Rod apparently had no such qualms and finding the ladies’ room occupied, opted to use the gentlemen’s lounge as her own private changing room.

There was also the unresolved case of the unclaimed thong found in the bathroom. I believe it was the ladies’ bathroom, but with this group, one can never be sure. And so, we all enjoyed another successful GGFMH3: presumably much like the one you’re currently attending…

On Out.

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