In the seasonably warm spring afternoon of April 28 the hares slowly
traversed the half mile separating the bank from a cooler of cold
beer. As they deposited small mounds of flour landing with a dull but
satisfying thump on the warm pavement passerbys turned their heads to
ingest the sight of the three interlopers thrust by circumstance onto
the street corner. Captain, the controller of cocks strode
confidently in the rear of the group. He spoke first. “Do you think
they will like our trail?”. Before him walking two abreast his
companions spoke simultaneously. Male Bait’s strong chiseled jaw
opening slowly to pronounce “Well, I ..”. Captain imagined his strong
but agile tongue glancing behind his full lips as the ‘ell’ reached
his aching ears, distracting Captain’s eyes only momentarily from Male
Bait’s anatomy which with each step flexed its glistening calves as
thin beads of sweat dripped slowly from his inner thigh caressing his
muscular legs before gently depositing themselves on his white cotton
socks. Captain could only imagine Male Bait’s supple member flopping
gently between his thighs and rubbing ever so slightly on the inside
of his runnign shorts a mere layer of polyester lying between it and
Captains blissful lips which were already wetting themselves at the
thought. The Doctor who often drinks in solitude started imperceptibly
later having waited to speak as she tossed her shining brown curls
over her right shoulder wafting the scent of Lilacs towards Captain
and revealing her tender skin and deep copper eyes. Clinically Captain
knew she was beautiful but could not help but find himself taken aback
at her presence; interloping between him and the unknowing shining and
sensual lure before his eyes. As she finished her interjection, “Of
course they will, there’s beer, they don’t have to run very far and I
think there might be a movie that no one will remember or sit still
through”. Captain’s annoyance turned to shame as the Doctor’s ringing
voice shook him sufficiently from the clean purity of homo-erotic
fantasy.

Fleshlight

At trail there would be no sad goodbyes,
As hashers searched for the alcohol prize.
They ran through a park,
Ended in the dark—
While clad with PA’s tights on their thighs.

Respectfully submitted,

Came with a Fake Name (and only made it to the on-after)

Take an obscure Polish holiday and add a bunch of half-minds and then throw in a bunch of shiggy and what do you get? The Dyngus Day Hash of course. Yep, Butters, Pocket, and Captain set a shiity trail starting from the Hollywood Theater in Mattydale.
So circle began with…well—I actually have no idea because I was a Bobbit, but I can imagine that it was some random flour markings and some blah, blah, blah about itbeing our own fucking fault, or something like that. I was actually pretty surprised to have missed circle because I was only about 15 minutes late and our trails never start on time…Surprise.

The beginning of trail was…well—I actually have no idea about that either, being a Bobbit and all…but from what I can gather from the random marks I did find was that it circled around a neighborhood. Some pleasant bike riding children asked if I was with that running group and that someone had her underpants on the outside and they said “Shark Geek.” Close, kids. Keep practicing and your reading scores will go up. They also told me that the group had gone left at the stop sign…which turned out to be a lie. Precious children— gifts from above, each and every one.

After getting really confused for awhile after hashing in Ithaca the previous weekend, I realized an X was a check here in good old Syracuse. Doh. Finally at a park, a nice soccer playing family said they had seen my group run through about an hour earlier. That was impossible, so I ventured off thinking a group of half-minds couldn’t stay hidden forever.

As I was about to give up, I suddenly heard to joyful din of hashers crashing across a brook. I was saved. They had just finished the first Beer Near and there was a full battle of pussy willow whipping and squirt guns shooting. From there the trail did its usual bit of back and forth and round and round. We ended up in the woods and in a bit of a thornpalcalyse. At some point Bushy tried to kill Slip by breaking a tree and hitting her in the head. It’s all fun and games until someone kills the RA.

We also encountered a creek that most tried to skirt around…but eventually it was impossible and everyone had to cross. And that is where the mayhem began. As the DFLs crossed the mucky water the FRBs began pegging water balloons at them. It was all out warfare. Goldie got nailed and went down and I am pretty sure she wasn’t the only casualty. Then back into more shiggilicious woods and a shot check.

After the shot check the hash returned to the more residential area for another SOH4 tradition—a failed boob check. So off went the ladies to find trail. Lots of running in the neighborhoods and then back to the woods where we found a treasure—a shopping cart. Yep, the dedicated hashers dragged it through the wood with Vomit Comet going for a wild ride. Captain was a little jealous, but was a promised a turn later.

There were some curious looks as the half-minds raced through the streets of Mattydale brandishing pussy willows and water pistols and now pushing a shopping cart. We ended up at the second Beer Near that was actually something of a scavenger hunt. Once it was finally located, the half-minds had their thirst quenched and it was a jog back to the On-In.

Back at the Hollywood, circle started off innocuously enough…some down-downs to hares for a shitty trail, some hash crashes, peeing on trail, and of course a down-down for Bobbits. The shopping cart ended up in circle with Captain in it—no surprise there—and everything was going along fine when the police showed up. Slip took charge and explained that we are a running club and he seemed skeptical. Actually, it could have gone much worse and he basically advised us to get out of there ASAP and that if anyone was not able to drive then perhaps it was best that they carpool. We half-minds are not half-wits, so we took that advice and headed to the On-After at Woody’s Jerkwater.

There was food, beer and a rousing sing-a-long to Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin.”

Happy Dyngus Day, half-minds. On-better late than never!-on

Respectfully submitted,

Came with A Fake Name

And because this video can never be watched enough, enjoy!

-Butters

Play this:

It was a rainy Monday night when dozens of SOH4 half minds arrived at Green Lakes. Badly Done Shiggy and Muddy was promised… and would be delivered on several levels. Ambitious hashers, some with BDSM paraphernalia, set up a tent in the parking lot to avoid the rain while prelubing and awaiting chalk talk…

Because it was the BDSM hash, ‘sub’ hares were recruited to assist: Vag made a poor decision and volunteered to assist OTD (more on that later), with Dry Spell offering to assist Kneegina. Chalk talk included lies about what marks would be seen. As promised the “CS” mark for Clothing Swap made it’s debut at SOH4.

And then Vag and OTD were off live setting first part of trail wherever there was shiggy or mud including standing water, thicket, and other trail elements. About 1/4 of the way into setting trail, Vag split off to set a false…. and became a hare lost on his own trail. OTD assumed he could catch up, follow trail, call for help (or maybe be seen because he’s 6’9″ for Gispert’s sake!)… OTD was wrong. The kennel quickly caught up as they made their way through standing water, or avoided it, up and down muddy paths, and actually found trail.

As hashers approached the first beer near, it became clear that Vag had gone missing. Which was especially unfortunate as he had most of the remaining flour to hand off to the other live hares. Instead they used what little flour was left to mark trail, and when that ran out they used parts of the flour bag or went on-hare to a strawberry shot check and to the second BN. Evidently at the second BN there were donut trail treasures discovered in a cabin, which hashers delirious from the cold and wet conditions elected to devour. Luckily no one needs to be renamed Patient Zero or have a hash disease named after them as a result.

Meanwhile, Vag was discovered nowhere near trail chasing deer through a field. After he tried to follow trail twice, he apparently gave up and headed back to the parking lot (down downs galore for that). Speaking of abandoning hope, while Vag and OTD were waiting near where we were told the second BN was, a wayward individual wandered down the road. Tired and ragged, he was hoping we could tell him how to get back to the parking lot. This was Just Bryan, who had lost his key on trail and had actually found it!

Eventually we all made our way back to the parking lot, where it was decided to avoid hypothermia and go to circle indoors at the after. This led to an interesting circle including a pause for the national anthem, hashers sitting on couches, copious amounts of wings being consumed , a potential virgin trying to join us after wanting help with the ATM en route to rehab the next day (?!), and other odd things that happen when circle occurs during the NCAA championship at a sports bar. Our lone virgin even made up an accusation of peeing twice on trail. After a full circle S&M man singalong , it was onto a naming of former Just Rob. During which PA and OTD combined for a new verse to a hash song in his honor: ‘if your mall date tastes like sh*t, flip her over; if her mall date tastes like sh*t, that’s her *ssh*le not her kid…’… yeah that’s going in the SOH4 hymnal update and was sung several times. After lengthy deliberation, he was named Pastorbator (or Pastorbaiter, or something). And then got more flour on him than was on the second part of trail…

Respectfully submitted even though Fakey does it better,
OTD

The first Monday hash since September was highly anticipated by those who had suffered through the long, cold season of Saturday hashing and those who hibernated for months instead of hahsing. The weather was lovely—sunshine and spring like weather, especially compared to the snowy MadCo romp that had taken place just two days prior. Boots and hats were traded for shorts and t-shirts. There was one virgin and there were lots of cum latelies spotted, including GM, Doggie Down Down, and Just Richard.
Wankers gathered on Onondaga Hill at Kelley’s for the Glorious Return to Mondays. Chunks and Dunks took not one, but two virgin hares for their first lay. If anyone doubted he was a stud, this put an end to that! Rectal Retriever and Anal-yze were his willing co-hares. Chalk talk consisted of some splotches of flour and then Chunks brought out the big guns—and I ain’t talking biceps here! Nope, he literally brought out a big water gun and spayed what looked like pee to show how they marked remaining patches of snow.

Once the legal disclaimer was taken care of the hash was on-out and down, down, down, McDonald Road. There was some checking and other nonsense, but soon the hash arrived at the first Beer Near in the parking lot of Corcoran High School. As parents came to pick up their kids, it was deemed to be a bad idea to drink right there on school grounds, so the BN was relocated to the nature trail adjacent to the school.

Pretty much everyone agreed that hashing on Mondays was a great way to start the work week. The beer was crap but the mood was good. Then the hash was on-out again and searching for trail. The hash ended up in Elmwood Park for a Shot Check. The shots were well hidden and a game of “Hot/Cold” ensued. At last the shots were located and passed around multiple times. One Trick Dick led the hash in a spirited “Father Abraham” before on-out again.

The hash headed up the trails in Elmwood and soon found themselves in some major shiggy. Wet and prickly. The second Beer Near was right in the thick of things, but that was okay, well, because there was beer. As the hash wound down the trail headed out to the road and back to the on-in in the parking lot at Kelley’s.

The hares were accused of setting a shitty trail and received their down-downs. The lone virgin was introduced and welcomed in appropriate hash style. And there were numerous accusations for the usual nonsense—blood on trail, peeing on trail, hash crashes, cum latelies, and other silliness. And then the topic of naming came up and Just Sean was called into the circle. He was questioned and sent away while the possibilities were discussed. The fact that he is 6’9” was not lost on anyone, but in the end, Just Sean was no more and Vagiantalia was introduced—an ode to his size, all around…

As the circle ended in the dark the hash went in peace to get a piece. And if they couldn’t get a piece, then at least they could get good beer and a cheap burger at Kelley’s at the On-after.

Respectfully submitted,
Came with a Fake Name

In Syracuse, March typically brings two things, and neither of them is spring. The March 22, 2014 hash was no different. Snow, cold drizzle and cloudiness punctuated basketball season with an orange-less hash led by Golden Snowball, Fleshlight and Stiffy Lube.

69 Things I Can Still Remember After the 69^th Trail and the Most Epic On-After

1. It was sunny
2. It was cold
3. It was really windy
4. There were cool glow-in-the-dark mugs
5. We got tags and beads (not the anal kind…)
6. There was beer drinking in a parking lot
7. There were a lot of people
8. IH3 and FCH3 visited
9. There were people from Connecticut
10. Hares were Ass Full, Drinks, and Kicky
11. Chalk talk was jibberish
12. Chunks was late but made the disclaimer
13. We ran in circles through snow
14. The sunset was awesome
15. We ran around a neighborhood
16. Snidely and Tweedle Me wrestled in snow (no surprise there)
17. We dodged traffic on West Genesee Street
18. No one died
19. Just Bill and Slimy Rubber Cock had backpacks for r*acist training
20. We climbed up an embankment
21. There were thorns and snow
22. There was blood
23. Goldie got scratched on the cheek
24. More blood
25. The first Beer Near was by an old ski lift
26. Jackoff climbed on top of it
27. He didn’t fall
28. There was a big hill
29. Some of us fell
30. Most butt slid down or belly flopped down
31. There was a ski area
32. TweedleMe ran up the ski hill
33. Tweedle Me fell
34. Tweedle Me skidded down
35. Drinks gave the ski operator a beer
36. He was cool but wouldn’t let anyone else run up the hill
37. We ran around some more in random neighborhoods
38. It was really dark
39. We ran through shiggy
40. A little girls asked Fakey and Once You Go Black if it was a scavenger hunt
41. There was a parking lot
42. There was a shopping cart
43. Captain fit in the shopping cart
44. There is video proof
45. No one died crossing West Genesee Street
46. We found the Second Beer Near
47. We sang
48. We sang more
49. We ran through the snow in the dark
50. There was a lot of hash crashing
51. On-in back at the parking lot
52. At circle hares did down-downs for shitty trail
53. Virgins Just Jay, Just Corey, and Just Eric were welcomed
54. Cum-latelys were accused (Turtle who?)
55. Out-of-towners did down-downs
56. Just Bryan and Dry Spell drank from their new shoes
57. Kicky awarded prizes for Best 69 attire
58. The hash went in peace to get a piece
59. The On-After at Assil’s was really hard to find
60. We found it
61. We arrived in time to see SU lose to NC State in the ACC Tournament
62. We drank beer
63. We ate a lot of food
64. We drank more beer
65. We danced
66. We drank more beer
67. We danced some more
68. Magical arrived late and showed off his dance skills
69. IT WAS THE BEST 69 EVER!

Came with a Fake Name

Coleman’s was pretty much a shit show—crowded and expensive, so the trail start was moved Upper Decker’s sister’s house. A good sized group showed up and formed a crowded circle in the driveway and Slip gave out some of the leftover awards from the Fat Boy hash and then the hares gave chalk talk was typically incoherent and confusing.  And the hares let it be known that it wasn’t necessarily a short trail.

As the hash took off, they recruited a nice young man who would be the day’s lone virgin.  As a serious r*acist who placed in the top 30 of the Shamrock Run, he was looking for more training.  What he found was so much more.

The half-minds stopped briefly and admired the Stone Throwers statue and Slip generously serviced one of the bronze gentlemen. There was a bunch of running, and bitching about running, and running and bitching.  And finally the crew arrived at the top of a hill for the first Beer Near.

Once satisfied with beer the hash went searching for trail—which of course went down an embankment.  The half-minds slipped, slid, and skidded down the mud and snow and had a rousing game of Frogger on West Genesee Street.  And then came to a grinding halt.  No trail to be found.  With a helpful hint from a hare the crew was on their way and soon stumbled upon the second Beer Near at the residence of Upper Decker’s brother.

Only harriettes were allowed inside for the facilities, and that may have been a mistake when Just Michelle, Pink Taco, and Fakey found a bowl of oranges.  So much fun with citrus—until they were caught by the roommate who walked in and asked, “What are you doing?”  He was advised to peel his fruit before eating it.

More running to a failed playground check—hashers were tired of all of this running— and made quick work back to the start. Everyone circled up and our Virgin was introduced.  Just Mike, who then announced he was also Mitch.  A fake name? Who would even do that??? And when Slip asked for a song he began to sing “Waterfalls” by TLC. Seriously.  No one had any idea why, but it was amusing and memorable.

Other down-downs were doled out and there wasn’t a dry lip around.  And then the hash went in peace, hoping for a piece at the Blarney Stone. Instead they found more beer and plenty of food.  The On-after gets blurry—there was exchanging of shirts with partial nudity, a human pyramid, lots of popcorn thrown, a bloody nose, and someone got kicked out.  Another successful night.

Respectfully submitted,

Came with a Fake Name