Post date: Dec 20, 2012 8:10:10 PM
So November came and went, and with it, the CUH3/Summit Joint Hash, hared by Jerzey Asshole, gamely stepping in for I-Feel Tower and MILF and Cookies, whose plans were fucked into a cocked hat by Hurricane Sandy and Ft. Lee's Korean population's lack of a proper bar culture.
Newcomers to the hash may not be aware of this, but there was a time when our pack generally numbered in the low single digits, and we used to have to travel out to Summit or Princeton for what they generously allowed us to call "joint" hashes to r*n with a pack with more than three or four halfminds in it. Honoring that proud tradition, the CUNTHHH showed up with three or four hashers. Myself, Lazer Labia, F'orgy were at the start, while Cranker Sore and Cum Test Dummy got off the bus a block early, and spent most of trail wandering on the wrong River Street on the wrong side of the river (long story short: There are two River Streets, on either side of the same river, and the cross street is only named Anderson for one block, and the Hackensack city planner is a complete fucktard). Nevertheless Summit rolled deep, with about 15 hashers, a baker's half dozen or so visitors (strangely all from various parts of Texas) and four or five virgins.
Trail started off across the river and ran immediately into a check. Jerzey, master of hash psychology chose the Un-Purloined Letter Gambit, making the false trail a real bitch to get to, as nothing says "true trail" like knee deep leaflitter and brambles to your tits. And sure enough he snared most of the pack, at least until the shiggy was cleared and something about how Jerzey dismantled a log fence to use the crossbeams to construct pack marks the Mayans can use when they come back from space to eat the roots of Yggdrasil (or whatever the internet shutins have decided a people who didn't see the actual end of their actual society coming 600 years ago have to say about the end of ours), and THEN marked every upright post with flour just screamed "tryhard" to the more girzzled among the hashers. Sure enough, true trail was found behind a pile of leaves across the street.
Through a parking lot apartment complex, then Super Mario World style along the wrong side of a chainlink fence that was there to keep neighborhood kids from falling down a 20 foot mud embankment into the river. Eventually the pack found their way over or under the fence, and along a footpath on the riverside, until we got back into the woods, for the first drink check.
The plan, apparently was for pack to gather in the half completed house that was under construction. Unfortunately, and extremely predictably, someone showed up to tell Jerz that no, him and his crew of woods wierdos weren't allowed to drink ice beer in their dream home's romper room to be, like a bunch of highschool kids who got chased out from behind the 7-11. Around this time the some of the pack noticed a virgin named "Sarah" had gone AWOL, which, coupled with the fact that CTD aka "Zara" was also known by some others in the pack to be lurking somewhere in town, there was in total confusion as to how many, and who, were missing, and how much help they actually needed to get back. Also Lazer beefed it somewhere in the woods and her knee looked like something out of the last twenty minutes of Hellraiser. I think we decided that whoever they were, wherever they were, however many they were, they'd sort their own shit out, and off we went.
From there trail went through the shiggy sucky soggy bogs for which Summit is rightly famous, as well as the de riguer segment down a railroad track. Eventually the pack got to the second drink check, but Jerzy had deemed it too sketch for the pack. Yikes. Anyway we continued on, through some industrial sector where the hare thought it would be fun to lay multiple, checkless false trails, most of which took hashers into blind alleys with no way out, or over 6 foot barbed wire fences. Bet your ass he ended up drinking for that. Eventually the pack ended up in Fairlegh Dickinson, feeling fairlegh dicked over, but fortunately we were almost home. Across the river and down Hackensack Ave (aka River St. f F s...) we picked up Hazmat, who'd apparently showed up way late and decided to run backwards, or just got way lost, and arrived at the on-in, to find all our missing hashers waiting for us, along with a steamtray of the bar's finest pasketti marinara and multiple half empty kegs ready to go (I think the beer stopped flowing at least twice due to us drinking the place dry.) Latecomers Lil' Dirty, Tubslut and Hot Crotchet showed up from the Rumson NYC pubcrawl, just in time for circle. And what a circle it was! With myself and Loogie tagging out on accusations and songs, Dogmeat teleconferencing in his standup act, Suckemup keeping the longsongs in the air way past the point of diminishing returns, and the visitors taking pages out from their own songbooks, it was a memorably long and rowdy circle, even by the standards of the hashes involved. As for what songs and downdowns were given out, as usual, it's turned out to be a horrible idea to have the guy who's doing all the drinking and yelling in charge of the after action report, but more on that later. I did come out of my fugue wearing the small red hoodie of an almost certainly murdered 4 year old child that had been found on trail.
Next month was Cum Test Dummy's turn. Shitty weather kept the pack size down to low double digits, and didn't help trail any, washing away marks and turning a mid-winter late afternoon so grey and dark that as Lewis Black memorably said, it was the kind of day "You look at your wrists and think 'Hey! Maybe I'll slit 'em to see some COLOR!' ". Being a little too roughed up by my poor life choices, I wasn't in condition to hash with the pack, but what I heard wasn't good. Just Erin and I were manning the drink check for about an hour and change before pack hit us, at the 4 mile mark or so, but the fact that CTD WAY over estimated the pack size meant there were four jello shots per halfmind, which soothed the restless natives a bit.
Dummy's promise of a new on-in was proven to be spot on, as we ended on the 7th floor of Havermeyer Hall on campus, with the conference rooms all ours to run around/play pong/do kegstands in. There was also a keg for the ten of us, by the way, I'm not sure I mentioned that. There were also kelley green Hannukah cupcakes (long story short: blue + chocolate = green), pizza, the rest of the jello shots, and a bunch of doritos. The tequila Jello shots got Just Erin's Irish up and after beating the shit out of, then flashing, Jerzey Asshole she came at me. Naturally I conducted myself like a gentleman, unless you consider slamming her into a wall with a chair like a lion tamer and pinning her until she was done Hulking out "hitting a girl".
At some point I decided to take the whole pack across campus for a game of pong on the roof of Mudd, out of nostalgia for an old trail I led, which if I do say so myself was regarded by one and all as an unmitigated disaster and huge pain in the ass. Although I think we did impress the 18 year olds who thought they were being awesome and rebellious just coming up there by having a keg and a working pong game 200 ft up in a sleetstorm. Old Hashers don't die, we just keep pushing our luck in more ridiculous ways until the law of averages catches up with us.
As for circle, the usual downdowns were given, and the usual songs were half remembered, which brings me around to mentioning next month's trail, hared by 10 Dix with Wings, which will also involve CUH3's second elections (calling them "annual" seems like a bit of a stretch). Some of you have commented gently over the course of the year on my near encyclopedic knowledge of hash songs, or at least the first verse and a half thereof, well, here's the chance to put your mouth where your mouth is! Run for RA! Furthermore, we need a GM, and if anyone wants to help out with trash-writing duties, hare-raising, hash-flashing, haberdashery or webmastering I can pretty much guarantee you'll run unopposed. We'll also be giving out special downdowns for the halfminds who've given us such a memorable year. The categories are:
Best On-in
Best Drink Check
Best Trail
Best New Hasher
Best Theme/Gimmick
Worst Shiggy
Worst Hash Behavior
and of course,
Shittiest Hare
Which brings me to my last order of business, during CTD's on-after, there was a heated debate about who lays a worse trail, Jerzey or Cum Test. Personally I thought the NJ one was fine, but the rest of the pack still think's he's underwater overall, so it was decided we'd have a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure type trail to settle things once and for all. Sometime in the near future, they'll each set a their own trail from the same start to the same on-in, with the same drink checks. Pick your poison, and feel free to change horses midstream. Frying pan or fire? Lady or the Tiger? Dummy or Asshole? YOU! BE! THE! JUDGE!
(Long Story Short: The End)
Type A- Hole