Post date: Oct 19, 2011 3:27:53 AM
The newly re-re-named Columbia University New Traditional Hash House
Harriers held their Back to School r*n, and in my unbiased opinion, it was
head and shoulders above all other hashes r*un so far this school year.
Our fair hash played host to its first visitors, or if you're Cumstain,
"Virgins to our hash who've hashed before" (What. The. FUCK?). Lazer
Labia, I Feel Tower, Just Robin and Train Sprain were on hand to kick our
hash off right. With Stain, Bug, Pre-Dick and yours truly rounding out the
usual gang of idiots.
That old saw about never screwing the head of the MTA's wife (or at least
not getting caught) proved true once again as avowed Communist, Pervert and
Hash-Hater Jay H. Walder gave another go at throwing a monkey wrench in my
plans, this time shutting down the 1 train in its entirety. But as Mrs.
Walder found out for herself a ways back, hashers are made of sterner stuff
than civil servants. The pack assembled, perhaps a bit late, and after a
few pictures for posterity/blackmail the hare was off.
And then back again, as a spelunk I had planned for the opener was kiboshed
by a rather large crane and a rather cranky Indian security guard, both
blocking the exit to my favorite stinky-tunnel-campus-shortcut. Leaving
Columbia's seemy underbelly unexposed for now, we marched off through
everything Harlem had to offer, from parks, to sketchy alleys, to 120 dB
cookouts, arriving at Shrine Bar on 134 and A.C.P. Boulevard. Marking out
the On-in for the first leg I was approached with the usual questions, by a
Columbia alumn-bia and a guy who was either smoking the wierdest cigar ever
or chewing on a piece of tree root who were invited to the next hash.
As soon as the hashers arrived I dashed off to find Stain, our bag hag for
the day, whom I had given horrible directions to. Fortunately he decided to
completely disregard everything I'd told him, run back to the start and go
from there. After I got back and we'd all shared a few beers I took off to
finish the trail. Unfortunately, the miraculous conservationist properties
of the tennis ball failed me and the flour sputtered out around Jackie
Robinson park. I picked some up at a bodega and relaid some of the weak
trail, but not enough as the pack decided to shortcut in at 145 and St.
Nick. Shame too, they missed out on City College's campus, a quarter mile
trail section up the center of Broadway and a brief on-in at Oral Sex
Island. All wonderful experiences that no one in the pack can prove they
didn't miss out on.
The final leg ended at Riverbank park, at a little spot on the shore tucked
away in the obscure shadow of the sports complex, conveniently enough for
those with full bladders, which by the end of circle was everyone. A grill
was hastily set up and our Grill Master and Mistress Train Sprain and Jun
Bug soon had a variety of bottom-shelf mystery meats sizzling away. The
circle was called and down downs were handed out for a lapsed trail (moi),
being a visitor/virgin (again, WTF Stain?) bitching (Stain), and in a first
for any hash I've been to, Train Sprain for managing to gross out a pack of
hashers. Maybe the beer was working on him a little faster than everyone
else, but he managed to flip two burgers onto the ground, which had been
heavily fertilized by Harlem's pit bulls (There are no other kinds of dog
here). He seemed to think that volunteering to eat the tainted beef made
everything ok, and very nearly found himself renamed Shitburger. The motion
was tabled. Eventually the circle was broken up by our new mascot, an
inquisitive little skunk who obligingly posed for pictures and only
threatened the Dirty Meat Man with a hosedown, which fortunately for
everyone never came.
The next hash will be at Stain's new partymansion in the wilds of NJ. We've
already gotten some interest from the NJ hashes, so it should be a good
one. Hope to see you all there!
On-On,
Type A-hole.