February 15, 2010
Hare: FMIG and Headlights
Start: The Double Windsor
On-In: The Vue at Hotel Le Bleu
Scribe: Canine Fixation
So it is the 500th r*n of the Brooklyn hash, which is now officially more r*ns than how old noted French linguist Guillaume Postel would be, if he were still alive today. And what better way to celebrate such an occasion than by r*nning in the dark and then drinking? We started the night off by prelubing at one of Brooklyn’s best, The Double Windsor. The hares arrived in fantastically dramatic fashion, complete with crutches and stories of spills, falls, and the ER. It was indeed fantastic since we would learn afterwards that they were a perfectly uninjured and fit pair of liars.
After what felt like 2-3 miles of slogging up and down hills, we finally exited the park and made our way up Park Slope and into the lobby of Hotel Le Bleu where the concierge rather nonchalantly told the sudden group of sweaty hashers to take the elevator to the roof bar. There we were greeted with free t-shirts and a healthy selection of beers, which grew steadily more unhealthy as the night progressed. In fact, it wasn’t long before we were left with just Bud, Bud Light, and Corona. But of course, that didn’t stop us from administering down-downs:
- The Hares – For setting a trail of some sort I hear.
- The lone virgin – Couldn’t resist the lure of a free t-shit, eh?
- Visitors – We had some.
- Porter Barrel – A visitor from Dayton who showed up at the prelube at noon. Clearly this guy knows how to hash.
- Death Breast – For throwing up while riding in a cab after some hash of yore.
- Barnacle – For DBB-ing it up by angrily shouting at hashers on trail.
- Blackout – For publicly pissing on trail.
- Screaming O – For getting Blackout’s car (and the car used to transport our bags) stuck in snow.
- Eager 4 Beaver – This noted r*cist decided that he’d rather just shortcut the trail, after r*nning about a block.
Since this was the 500th r*n, and we as a culture like to celebrate nice round numbers, award down-downs were also given. I can’t remember much of this so I’ll just choose some winner if I can’t remember (such is the power of the pen):
- Fluffy, Dogface, and Steamer – For being old-timers who’ve been with the hash since at least the 200th r*n (and maybe even 100th).
- Steamer – Got his own down-down for being the only one to have been at the first r*n of the Brooklyn hash.
- Whiniest Brit: Smashmouth probably won for completely obvious reasons. Hedgehog and Dogface were also nominated.
- Angry Brit: Smashmouth probably won again. Stewa and Barnacle (the Canadian) were also nominated. Maybe this should’ve been the Angry Commonwealther award?
- Oldest Brooklyn Hash Shirt: Steamer, of course, won for his ancient 50th Brooklyn Hash shirt.
- Best Trail: Went to the entirely deserving Tour de Brooklyn cycle.
- Worst Trail: Fluffy and Whoremaster tied for sucking equally as hard. Do I hear a Gowanus x Name Tag collaboration in the works?
- Worst Couple: I believe Stewa won for reasons entirely clear to people who go to on-ins. Whoremaster was also nominated with himself as were Death Breast and Technically Foul.
- All present and past JMs – For having too little goddamn sense to actually be willing to deal with the hash every week. Headlights got a special down-down for being especially derogatory to the JMs.
Finally, FMIG stepped down as JM and was replaced by Noah’s Dinghy. Good luck with that internet thing, I hear people can make money off it now. After the circle broke, the crowd stood around for about an hour before the food came out. When the food did come, the first platter turned out to be just salad, and the real food wouldn’t come out for another 5-10 minutes, leading to a giant case of collective culinary blue balls. Given our mental state by this time, it wasn’t surprising that when the actual food of wings and chicken tenders came out (great tenders by the way) everything was quickly devoured by the ravaging horde. After the food was gone, so was I.