Post date: Feb 7, 2013 12:46:12 PM
CUNTH3's trail this month had a distinct retro flavor. Some of it had to do with the presence of one of CUNTHHH's founding fuckwits, I Am Cumstain, coming out of semiretirement and gracing us with his presence, some of it had to do with the fact that we were r*nning the trail live for the first time in almost a year. Mostly though, it had to do with the trail itself, but more on that later.
A large contingent of ladies decided 3pm would be the best place to use the bathroom, and the choice of drink checks meant that some hashers needed to run home for ID's so we found ourselves with some time on our hands before chalk talk. A proper blessing of the (live) hares was performed, a quick round of Father Abraham got the juices flowing, followed by introductions. We had Ginger Jesus visiting from China, Tornado Twat From Japan, and a couple of virgins whose names I forget, but then they couldn't keep their own names straight so they must have been pretty forgettable. Late comers kept coming in dribs and drabs, filling out a solid pack numbering in the 30s by the time we graced the Alma Mater Plinth for a series of photos.
Trail went south out of campus, then into morning side park for a quick scamper in the trees before cutting into Harlem. A couple of pack-baffling checks later, and the eagles, at least, found themselves high atop the Marcus Garvey hill, marveling at the panorama of boxy public housing spread out before them beneath a gunmetal mid-January sky. If only we had a hash flash to preserve the precious moments. As for the chicken hashers, I'm assuming they poured their heaving, cheesy bulk into their Rascal scootabouts and toodled along to the Metro North underpass, which is where the rest of the pack caught up with them.
It was here that we, and everyone within earshot, were loudly and repeatedly informed by a local that Harlem was now "over". Off season hours, I suppose. Having been unaware that the neighborhood had come to a complete stop, we gathered our belongings and proceeded in an orderly fashion to the nearest exit. Which just so happened to be the 3rd Ave Bridge into Mott Haven. Though the bridge was a veritable turd slalom, the pack was rewarded for their perseverance in hotstepping their way through a dogshit minefield with sight of the first drink check. The Clock Tower Bar, standing in for the Bruckner Bar, which is still down for the count due to Sandy, was waiting and ready with buckets of their finest, cheapest beer. Somehow I ended up drinking pear cider, which I was theretofore unaware existed. Wasn't great.
After a decent interval the pack cleared out and went after the hares again. Across the same bridge although to be fair it was the other side, nice of them to mix it up for us. After a few false starts that White Cliff and Solar Eclits used to slam-hump stopped hashers so hard they were walking funny afterwards, pack eventually found themselves at the northwest corner of the park and I found I could no longer contain myself. Yes, you little ones best listen and 'member good, cause in the longlongago, down into history back, Stain led essentially this exact trail for a pack of approximately three. Even then Stain was about as hard to read as the hollywood sign, and a long gone hasher, who more than earned the name Pre-dick-table on the trail, was calling Stains shots with 100% accuracy all throughout the trail.
Since the pack was getting antsy and the sun was going down, and because every other part of trail was unfolding like we were stuck in a chronoloop back to 2010, AND since I was carrying the Yucca, so drink check would be wherever I damn well decided, I took the pack direct to the blockhouse, better (and funnier) known as Nutters Battery. Fortunately for the hares they were also at the drink check when we arrived.
The expertly mixed Yucca was passed around, and hares were given a five minute start, which in what must be a first for the world of hashing, they actually received. This had more to do with the fact that the pack had to descend a slick shcist rockface in a crabwalk/buttslide or walk down the other side and risk being called a dick for making the rest of the pack look dumb. Since the first few down had plenty of time to kill, and since we'd already "ended" Harlem, we decided to see what we could do to put Central Park to bed. Flabonghissimo found a dead tree that was sitting a little loose in the dirt. A couple quick jerks is all it took, and we had quick jerks in spades. Once it was downed it was responsibly rolled off to the side of the trail, where it took up it's new life as a trail liner and all traces of our crime were eradicated. Except for the loose loam crater where it used to be. Anyway, before we were able to head out, we'd come up with a justification that involved the tree collapsing on a random hiker. Having declared ourselves American Heroes we struck out for the on-in.
I went the "wrong way" on a check, but since it was in the direction I knew the on-in to be, no harm was done. I caught up with the pack at the Ding Dong Lounge where the beer flows cold, canned and cheap. First order of business, since it was about five months late after all, was installing our new misman. Cum Test Dummy and 10 Dix with Wings walked into JM duties on an unopposed split ticket. RA duties, just incase you were worried about NYC hashing was becoming less incestuous, were filled by Knickerbocker RA What a Cunt! and CUH3 JM 10 Dix with Wings. Forgy got the position of Hasherdaber, I was re-elected unopposed to a third term as CUNTHHH Hash Scribe, and as I mentioned in circle, I thank my constituents, I hope to live up to the faith you've placed in me, and I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next.
Visitors were called up and from what I can remember before I was put to sleep, sung us all a song about the island women of ipanema, or some such. Virgins were called up, and the and the girl who forgot her own name got her story straight, Robin's cousin was convinced to give Grindr a break for a couple minutes and downdowns were given out. Just Heather finally got named, "Fitness in Your Mouth" winning out over a very strong field of other candidates. This was apparently a way-homer for a lot of the half minds, so if you're having trouble, try saying it out loud and really hitting the "n". Last order of business was giving out congratulatory or censorious downdowns, the difference between which has kept hash theologians from G on down arguing, for the best-of lists of the year.
Best New Hasher: 10 Dix With Wings
Best On-in: Octoberfest trail laid by 1 Tequila, 2 Tequila, 3 Tequila Whore, Just Cassie and Hitnrun,
Best Hash Gimmick: Snuggie Pub Crawl laid by Just Mary and Lazer Labia
Best Trail: Hashlympics trail by Yours Truly
Worst Shiggy: Poison Ivy trail led by Copa and I Like Head
Best Drink Check, Shittiest Hare, & Worst Behavior: Highbrow Despicable trail led By Jerzey Asshole.
That about wraps it up, congrats to our new Misman, and may I be the first offer a warm welcome to our new gynocracy! May I also be the first to offer compliments on their new hairdo, and did they lose weight? Yes, indeed, though the CUNTHHH has always skewed predominantly female, there has always been a strong, proud, throbbingly upstanding pillar of the patriarchy poking along, doing all the thinking and calling all the shots for the little women. But all that is over now. It may be a rocky transition, but I expect that as the months wear on our misman will begin to sync up. And it's to be hoped they'll take skipping a month a bit more seriously that previous administrations as well. AND WOE BETIDE THE HARE WHO LETS THEM DOWN ON THEIR MONTHLY... blah blah blah period joke... we've all be on the trolley for like three stops now, so why don't I quit flogging it. Anyway, next trail will be hared by the committee at VCP, 3pm. ride to the end of the 1 line and follow the marks to the start.
Also, freed from the constraints of being a showrunner, I have now gone comPLETELY off reservation and am haring an independent trail in Flushing on Feb 16th for the Chinese New Year. Trail starts at the Main St. Flushing stop at flushing at noon. Expect a ridiculous time. Be sure to head out early if you're coming since the 7 line is non-operational between Manhattan and Queens, so you'll have to make some transfers.
On-on to Feb. Type A