BH3 #560

Brooklyn H3 560 – April 4, 2011


Start:  36th Street & 4th Avenue

On-In:  Johnny Pumps, 5th Avenue & 76th Street

Hare:  Cheeky Bastard

Scribe:  Speedo Gonzalez



Was there really a Brooklyn Hash this week?  Or was it just an illusion, a shared dream perhaps? 


Surely, this time of year, as the evenings grow warmer, one would expect Hash attendance to grow.  Nooooooope.  Wrong!  Honestly, where the fuck was everybody?


Perhaps it was the location that scared everyone away.  We were r*nning through territory not usually seen outside a Tour de Brooklyn.  To which this Queens resident can only say, “Come on, grow a pair.”  It’s not called the Park Slope H3.


And look what you missed out on!

       A not-an-omen-at-all encounter with a stray black cat at the start!

       A pleasant ascent up the hill in Sunset Park, only the second-highest point in all of Brooklyn!

       New and unusual trail marks (more on this in a minute)!

       A historic tour through some of Brooklyn’s finest, darkest rape alleys!  Bring your wife and kids, it’s fun for the whole family!


So, the new trail marks:  pretty much every single fire hydrant on trail was labeled “Johnny Pump.”  Nobody knew what this meant, and it turned into a kind of parlor game along the way:  “Why the fuck do the hydrants all say ‘Johnny Pump’?”  Seriously, why?  Of course, by the time we got to the on-in, it all made sense, and we had a jolly laugh and took immediately to Twitter to tell all our friends.  I personally telephoned my grandmother, just to let her know:  Johnny Pump.


Down-down time!

       Cheeky Bastard, for his haremanship.

       Cheeky Bastard again, for “Johnny Pumps.”  Seriously, it was every.  Single.  Hydrant.  But that’s not all!  Cheeky also had marked “BN” a hundred miles away from the beer.

       Donner Kebab, who got hit by a van and barely even noticed, but slowed down for fear of slipping on the gravel in the rape alleys.

       Baboon Ass, for picking up and holding the not-an-omen-at-all stray cat, and Cheeky Bastard once more, for making the tired and obvious “getting affectionate with pussy” joke.

       Ding and Barnacle.  Ding was eating a beef patty at the start, while Barnacle was complaining about the Montezuma’s Revenge he picked up in Mexico City, thus tying for the “Let’s Nobody R*n Downwind Of These Guys” Award.  (Which is a real award, look it up.)

       Just Katie, for gloating about how close she lives to the on-in.  Which everybody knows is a lie, no one lives in these hinterlands.

       Speedo Gonzalez (I know him!), who left his house in such a hurry that morning that he didn’t pay enough attention when tossing his r*nning shoes into his bag, and so didn’t realize until he had gotten to the Hash that he had packed a mismatched pair.  Or maybe he did it on purpose, to allow a side-by-side comparison of this year’s and last year’s model of the Saucony Hurricanes?  Maybe he did.  (He didn’t.)

       Death Breast, who ran Circle single-handedly, while wearing a very fetching dress.


And though they didn’t get down-downs, Drippy Sac, Trader Blows, Fluffy, and Smash Mouth probably should have, because as far as I can remember they were the only Hashers there who didn’t.


I don’t know when Hash Cash ran out, I had an odyssey home and we were way out in the middle of nowhere.  I imagine, though, that it lasted quite a while. 


Johnny Pump!