NYCH3 #1372

NYCH3 #1372

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Hare: The new JMs (Tit Totaller and Fire in the Pie Hole)

Start: 94^th and Broadway

On-In: 1020 Bar, Amsterdam and 110^th

Scribe: Finger F***ed

The first trail of the new JM’s reign of terror was set for Cinco de Mayo, so instead of drinking sh*tty Mexican beer or tequila in excess, I found myself meeting a decent-sized pack at 94^th and Broadway for a trail that was destined for greatness.  The chalk talk included instructions about flour, and knowing our JMs it was clear where this was headed.

The pack was given our instructions, and was sent west in search of trail (which in my mind is the opposite direction of where we would be headed).  Down into Riverside Park for a jaunt, and then back up the stairs and to the east.  While exiting Riverside Park Ow My Balls managed to perform a stunning feat of aerial acrobatics while jumping over a fence and landed square into a trash can.  10 out of 10 points I say.

As I suspected at the start, we then made our way into Central Park for an exploration of the woods in the northern end.  After encountering some not shady at all people hanging out in the woods after dark, in the interest of safety I ran out the north end and west on 110^th.  Having picked up trail, I then made my way to the On-In, 1020 Bar.

While a touch crowded, the bartender begrudgingly supplied us with beer and pizza came to feed the ravenous horde.  Circle was called, and the offenders among us were punished.

Down-downs:

The hares, naturally.  The trail did not involve nearly enough hills or stairs.

Visitors – sorry I missed your names.

Virgins – too many of you to catch your names.  But come back again soon!

The three people in the crowd wearing Texas shirts of all things.  Now I know those lone star state people have a surfeit of pride in their hot, dusty state, but seriously.  You don’t see me running around in an “Indiana – corn rules!” T-shirt.  And when one Texan drinks, they all drink.

DBB for saying you can tell an Englishman by wearing black socks.  He was wearing white socks.  God Save the Queen indeed.

Hardy, for assuming our illustrious JM Fire in the Pie Hole was looking for money, on the basis of his Scottishness.

Fireman Tim doesn’t get to run up enough stairs saving lives at his dayjob, so he decided to run up a few more for no reason at all.

A limo rider yelled out “on-on” at the pack on trail, so the oldest and richest hasher was made to drink.  I don’t recall who it was.

And finally, AOTW was granted to Ow My Balls, for his previously mentioned acrobatics.  Good show!

The beer continued to flow, and the bar grew progressively louder.  I went off into the night for the long subway ride home.

On-out!