NYCH3 #1336 Battle of the H3’s

NYCH3 # 1336 

Battle of the H3’s, Choose your Home Hash

 

Start: Herald Square 33rd/Broadway

 

On-In: L.I.C. Bar, Queens

 

Scribe: I-Feel Tower 

 

War Between the Hashes: Who’s the Sphincter? Taint Us!

 What was this ballyhooed Battle of the Hashes? I only first heard of the “war” between the New York City and Brooklyn Hashes on the last night of the innovative Tour De Brooklyn. A goodly number of both hashes had just completed this amicable tenth run. In fact, on the night of the Battle of the Hashes itself, the only event I witnessed remotely resembling animosity was when FMIG literally knocked me off my feet barreling through the crowd with the Domino’s pizzas (apologies to the smallish girl I nearly dominoed, myself). Even this I put down to too much sugar and not an assassination attempt. So, I conclude the Battle of the Hashes was one of those rare occasions where two half minds come together to make one intelligible thought. It was probably collusion between FMIG and Trips And Balls to promote both kennels and not a taboo flirtation (as far as we know without rock hard evidence).    

 

    Who won? I interviewed both Joint Masters for their opinion of the score. FMIG said he believed the attendance was: NYC 50 versus Brooklyn 35. Trips And Balls reported: NYC 48 versus Brooklyn 35. I guess we know who was on top, eh? However, some credit is due Brooklyn for switching to New York’s night. Brooklyn might point to graciousness. NYC might remark “feel the gravity, bitches.”   

 

 

     How was trail? I need to report the NYC perspective for two reasons: I chose it based on commuter laziness and Brittany said I “was her best friend and needed to do the write-up.”  My comrade Traders Blows agreed to take the Brooklyn side. The New York trail began at Herald’s Square on dry pavement with dry throats. We left the lush pre-lube option to our rivals to the east. We ran a stair-step pattern on the streets from there to the base of the Queensboro Bridge. We went over the Bridge and into neutral territory in Queens. After another mile of scenic auto repair and body shops, we found our second “half” at the on-in at the L.I.C. Bar. I never found out why it was named lick, but we all know who got licked, eh? Ironically, Brooklyn was ahead of us in a different way even as we shared the same geographic space. How can that be? They already had beer and pizza from the Alligator Lounge sloshing around in their bellies from before trail.  

 

  There is no better battlefield voice in all hashdom than Headlight’s. The L.I.C. Bar needed her talents as it now contained almost a hundred loud-mouthed hashers. She called the room to order and began the down-downs. She brought forth the following infractions: 

 

Hares:       FMIG and Trips And Balls for their respective shitty trails.

 

Visitor:      Milk Me from the mighty Summit Hash House Harriers.

 

 Virgins:       Karen, who made herself come.  Dylan, Karen made her come.  Lindsay, Lauren made her come.  James, Amy made him come.  Chris, Jimmy made him come.  Dennis, we’re not sure who made him come.

 

 

 Style:                Yours truly, wearing a Brooklyn shirt to                     the NYC trail,

whore!

 

                Brooklyn couple (?), wearing matching headbands, geeks!

 

Talking:     young man for having a private party,  with himself?

 

 Big Bags:   A Little Dirty was called in for bringing German guests with big bags. I’ve only been intimate with German females. So we rely on Headlights judgment on the size of that young man’s scrotum.  

 

     Headlights gave the circle to Fire-In-The-Piehole for his inimitable class. He gave down-downs for a graffiti infraction to Headlights for writing “BH3 Rocks” over a NYC check. He then declared that “we agree we all hate Queens. We need to finally kill off the Queens H3!” Cover your ears, Smashmouth.

He then called the hares into the circle.  Trips And Balls brought in Mean Jean for wearing a Brooklyn shirt partially obscured with a duct taped “X” to the NYC trail. Jeremy was brought in for something but by this time all I could see from my table were butts. I was scribbling these notes on a BBQ flyer by the light of a tiny votive candle and missed some details. She also called in Spat! He drank for being the only NYC Mismanager to turn coats (and a lovely coat he had, an Iguana happi coat) by joining Brooklyn’s trail. FMIG also dishonored Splat! For going to nine Tour De Brooklyn trails and blowing off number ten. Barnacle and Headlights were given down downs for escalating this war via Face Book. Another flirtation?   

 

  Finally, Trips And Balls declared, “we need to close off this war that has tainted my whole summer.” She experienced a roar of laughter for saying taint. It doesn’t take much, does it? But it struck me the taint is a good symbol for this trail. We were in Queens, which was neutral ground- taint Manhattan and it taint Brooklyn. We leave it to you, the reader, to decide which hash is the lovely, pleasurable vagina and which the rugged old sphincter.   

 

 Disrespectfully submitted by:   I-Feel Tower

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