BH3 Hash House Harriers
Run #420 / August 4, 2008
Hares: Riding Big Jake and Just Dana
On In: Moonshine
The naming of four hashers and the near renaming of Headlights by FMIG on Monday night can only be attributed to one thing: the attention deprivation of FMIG. In rare—wait, make that typical—form on 8/4, FMIG bestowed several of us with coveted hash names, coveted being the key joke there.
Before I get to the exciting drama attached to the excessive naming, let me pay a little attention to the trail set forth by our hares, Riding Big Jake and Just Dana, who upon revealing the distance of the r*n (4.5-5 miles), met with a stir of groans from the pack. “But,” assured Just Dana, poker-faced and even-toned, “it’s mostly downhill.”
“Mostly downhill, my ass,” I complained to Just Laurel as we ran the streets of Boerum Hill, Cobble Hill, and Carroll Gardens together, planning the details of our upcoming trail on the few, brief downhill reprieves.
At one point, an arrow on
About half of us, I’d say, kept right on r*nning. Right past the beer check, we later learned, and right by a disheveled, thirsty transvestite, who turned a sexy bedroom eye on Shani and said, “Money for beer?” Her playing hard-to-get only added to her allure because then Tranny really turned it on. “Ohhhhhh…” he purred, unknowingly acting as the impetus that christened Shani as Drag Hag.
We reached the bar, Moonshine, where the bartender’s chill but friendly attitude suggested that she had been partaking in a little 420 action before our arrival. Now that’s what I call a stand-up bartender, one who celebrates the BH3’s 420th hash appropriately! Her laid-back demeanor and ability to give good head (to the draft beer, for crying out loud) as well as maintain full buckets of PBR cans added to the cozy feeling that enveloped our pack at Moonshine that night. Or maybe it was the plentiful flow of beer.
Once a grill guy was assigned, condiments put in place, and vegetarians accounted for, the hungry hashers were fed, and the circle was soon called. FMIG took center stage as Sorry, What? stood by and initially (innocently) pretended to be his sidekick. Fortunately, Sorry, What? knows how to please a crowd and did just that when she called FMIG out for budging on the food line, something the rest of us left behind in second grade. (editor’s note, I have no idea what she’s talking about)
The following down-down’s were also administered:
–The hares. As usual, complaints about the trail were plentiful, and while the grill-ready on-in changed things up a bit, no moonshine was anywhere to be found.
–The virgins. Two lovely gals from
–Fawn was named Little Red Ride Me Hood, a to-the-point name that leaves little to the imagination and attempts to start a family of hashers where “ride” serves as the action verb. (editor’s note, that’s a great name, but I didn’t come up with it, I believe she was named at the GGFM, but it may have been the NYH3)
–Headlights for dancing like an Egyptian on trail. She was almost renamed Would you Fuck Me? In the end, it was decided that the resounding yes that would inevitably answer the question of a name would just make things confusing, and so she remains Headlights.
I feel as though I’ve been awfully hard on FMIG throughout this write-up, so I will give him credit where credit is due and applaud one of the down-down’s he doled out:
— Just Ben for aggressively asserting that Virgin Carrie ought to drink out of her new shoes. Instead it was Ben who was given the down-down and Ben who drank out of his unarguably not-even-close-to-new shoes. (editor’s note, I think this dude’s name is Casey, he has a hash name too but I forget it. Anyhow,it’s kind of obnoxious when the veteran hasher’s try to give the virgin the shoe treatment, I mean more than the usual obnoxious)
–I attempted to take the call for nominations seriously but was misheard and mocked by none other than—can you guess?—FMIG and presented with the hash name Da’Stink, which comes from the English root distinct. (editor’s note, and she’s still trying to get the last word in, oy)
–Maybe there were more. If so, please contact me, and I will write you a personalized write-up. Yeah. For beer, that is.
***Before I’m officially on-out, I’d like to let everyone know that the BH3 has started a Lost and Found collection, and the first lucky item to be declared “lost” is a pair of men’s gray briefs, better known as tighty grays. Please see your local JM to claim.(editor’s note -Nah, too easy.)