A Drinking Club with a Running Problem
IH3 Trail #716: Beaster Egg
Beaster Egg Hash
Ithaca Hash House Harriers Trail #716
4/20/2014
Location: Taughannock State Park, Trumansburg, NY
Hares:
Nurse TaKillya, Butt Floss, Brown Hole Delivery
Hounds:
cum and feel it
porcelain goddess
c’mon we’re so close
head to toe in utero
oakus pokus
fertilizeher
hot smegma
bedside pole dancer
unidentified feathered orifice
came with a fake name
master baster
tastes like 10th grade
just alexi/putin mouth
just prashant
virgin amy
table it
inyourendo
the united auto twerker
Jesus(can’t go hashing but he can bobbit)
assful of white man
virgin justin/cutie pants
The Beaster Egg Hash was off to a flying start when Nurse notified the listserv that she had forgotten her sneakers and was desperately searching for a pair to borrow so that she could SET trail. Maybe she forgot because it was because it was 4/20, maybe it’s because she’s a bimbo. Luckily for us, Bedside and UFO came to her rescue with a spare pair. In was in this auspicious manner that Nurse, Brownie and Floss set out to lay us a truly shitty trail.
It was a sunny, windy day in early spring at Taughannock State Park and the muggles were out in droves, enjoying the first glimpse of spring after a long, miserable winter. The coltsfoot was flowering, the wild leeks were up and the rotting corpses of animals were to be found under the leaf litter.
At the first BN, FertilizeHer and Tasty came upon a young woman. She was busily digging up some ramps and had completely ignored the small green Rolling Rock ponies and the brightly colored plastic Easter eggs strewn about her. After warning her that she was about to be surrounded by weirdos seeking hidden beer bottles and naughty chocolate-filled eggs she informed me that she knew who we were due to the copious amounts of flour she often finds near her home in Varna. I offered her an egg and we cracked them open together. She got a vagina. I got a boob.
When all the hounds had caught up, we made sure we had found all the beers. They were lettered and numbered. Since there were 8 beer checks (EIGHT!), Floss had lettered each beer near A through H. Each BN also had 12 beers at it. So, in theory, the first BN should have had beers A1, A2, A3…A12. The second BN would have B1, B2, B3… B12. Right? Get it? Simple, right? All the way up to H. This way, we would know if we had missed any beers and if so, which BN they were missing from.
Welllll… the best laid plans of hashers…or is it the hasher’s best plans for getting laid? Anyway, we knew immediately that things had gone awry when the first BN had beers all labelled with the letter B, instead of A. However, we found them all, 1-12, and we moved on to find the next stop.
Circling around the edge of the lake, Cum and Feel It in a full bunny suit and carrying an Easter basket was quite a sight to see.
We also had Porcelain Goddess and Came with a Fake Name in bunny ears and several other peeps carrying baskets to hold all our booty. BN#2 was where the dogs found their Beaster treat – dead things! Yay! So fun to roll in! Zephyr, LuLu and Harley all took a turn covering themselves in crunchy critter. This is also where we found the ponies labelled with the letter A.
Meandering our way around the cabins and discovering that trail crossed the road and onto a well worn path, Twerk offered to check the right branch of the Y that no one seemed to have investigated, or at least did not bother to mark for the DFLs. We waited briefly. She came back. “Well? RU? What did you find?”, we asked. She replied, “I don’t know. It was wet. I didn’t want to go any farther.” Now that’s hashing smarter! Good thing PG has keen eyes, she saw the X that Twerk walked right by (and I walked by and Head walked by…).
A bit farther up the path, we found BN#3. The beer was cumming fast and furious. Just the way we like it. This beer near was where we discovered the ultimate break down of the letter/number system. There were both C and D-labelled Rolling Rocks here.
We had a hard time finding all of them here, too, even though Just Prashant and Master Baster really searched high and low. While we stood about enjoying beverages, a couple of civilians snuck up on us and passed behind PG just as she exclaimed something ridiculously vulgar. (I wish I could remember what it was, dammitall!) Trust me, IT WAS HORRIBLE (and I laughed). Well, that’s what you get for sneaking up on a kennel, muggles!
Down into a ravine and across a small stream and up the other side, we found ourselves near the park headquarters and wandered along the tree line until, you guessed it, BN#4. Remember I said there were 8, right? I don’t know if people were even still eating the chocolate cocks or just playing with them. Our baskets were filling up with plastic eggs and empty bottles. At BN #4 aka BN letter D, we sang the most wacked-out version of “Monday is a Wanking Day” that we’ve ever done. If you’ve hashed with us, you know how often we f*ck up this song (no offence, Baster, you’re doing a great job, wanker). Here for your reference are the lyrics, according to www.chicagohash.com (why them? I dunno, they have a good list and it was the first one I found. Check ’em out.)
Monday is a Wanking Day
Today is Monday,
Monday is a wa(n*)king day.
CHORUS:
Leader: Are gonna have a good time?
All: You bet your ass we are!
Da da dut da da, da da dut da da
Today is Tuesday,
Tuesday is a finger day.
Today is Wednesday,
Wednesday is a hmmmm day,
Today is Thursday,
Thursday is a drinking day,
Today is Friday,
Friday is a fucking day,
Today is Saturday,
Saturday is a hashing day,
Today is Sunday,
Sunday is a day o(f*) rest.
Monday is a wa(n*)king day.
CHORUS:
Leader: Are gonna have a good time?
All: You bet your ass we are!
Da da dut da da, da da dut da da
Today is Tuesday,
Tuesday is a finger day.
Today is Wednesday,
Wednesday is a hmmmm day,
Today is Thursday,
Thursday is a drinking day,
Today is Friday,
Friday is a fucking day,
Today is Saturday,
Saturday is a hashing day,
Today is Sunday,
Sunday is a day o(f*) rest.
*Tasty’s note – Yes, I had to correct their stupid f#cking typos. Sheesh. Hashers can’t do math, alphabetize or spell. Good thing we’re so sexy~~~
So to get back to OUR rendition of this song, I’m pretty sure at least 2 out of 5 days were hashing days, there was a fisting day and no rest. I, personally, am ok with no rest and more hashing. Someone else will have to volunteer for the fisting. I nominate the Virgins. Sorry, Virgin Amy and Virgin Justin! Welcum to the hash! Virgin Amy brought her own flask of booze with her so maybe she’ll be drunk enough to volunteer to save poor Justin. We are lucky that fisting did not occur while Hot Smegma was wearing the new and unimproved sleeve of shame – a clay L-joint of pipe that I was able to get up to my elbow but he was only able to put over his fist and box around with. SMEG SMASH! Sleeve of Smash! Sleeve of Smash!
OK – So. Somehow we magically transport to BN#5(E), stopping for CAFI’s Hash Flash (check out her hashspace pictures – it’s a great progression of pictures in front of a handicapped accessible sign). I’m pretty sure #5 BN was just off the rocky road that leads up to more campsites from Rt 96 that is just for park utility vehicles and campers walking down to the lake. My basket completely de-handled itself at this point and C’mon We’re So Close was kind enough to offer to fix it. I handed it to him and ran away. “Haha it’s yours now!” Sucker. (um, should I feel bad about that? I just feel glee. GLEE.) All the beers were actually found at this stop, shockingly enough, and we moved on down the road and across the bridge to the steep stairs climbing along the edge of the ravine that was cut out of the runoff from Taughannock Falls. The FRBs really caught it this time when they got pretty far up the steep slope and found an R that sent Endo hurdling back down the path at top speed on a collision course with Twerk who narrowly escaped certain smackage. Or maybe she didn’t escape. Pretty sure there might have been some ass smacking. Hmmm. My mammory fails – did I mention that we were on BN#E? There were other witnesses who might know – Table It was there, PG, CAFI, Oakus, and Smegma were present as well. OH LOOK. The trail diverts to the left here! Not up the hill! And lo, behold – BN 6(F) (F stands for Gispert, I’m drunk!)! A quaint ancient cemetery in a small clearing in the woods. So peaceful and serene. Until…now. We search and search for all the beers and eggs. Fakey did her best to find all of them but one was left behind. What we wanks did NOT leave behind was TICKS. Pretty sure this is where we picked up more than a few, climbing over fallen trees and seeking among the rotting stumps and grass. More on that later…
Taking the narrow track up a hill out of the graveyard, we traveled single file until we got to the road (almost immediately if my lager-soaked brain serves), crossed over into a gravel driveway and a clearing. This is where the shenanigans truly started. Stupid Human Tricks! Several harriers laid about in the sunshine. Head and I started doing silly yoga poses. On the gravel. Ow. Then, Endo and Head got into human stacking. Endo was on the bottom in plank position, Head on top with her hands on his calves and her feet on his shoulders. Then they simultaneously started doing push-ups. On the gravel. Ow, Endo.
In the ultimate display of human stacking, 14 hashers then created an epic pyramid with Nurse as the cap. On the gravel. Ow, Oakus, Just Prashant, Endo, C’mon and Baster. Nurse does not remember this at all. Bedside stuck her head (who said head?) through the center, scaring the crap out of FertilizeHer.
I don’t even think there was beer here. We were just dicking about in the sunshine because it fucking rocked out and we’d already ingested at least 42oz of 4.4%abv shitty beer, and that’s ass-uming you didn’t pregame and we KNOW you did, lush. Who am I talking to? Hang on, I gotta go get another beer… Maybe that was a BN. OK, I think it was, I opted out of that one due to imminent faced-edness. So, when everyone else was mostly done with their 7th tiny beer we were once again magically transported to the edge of the water, up against a rocky wall shoring up Taughannock Blvd where the FRBs assured us they had already found all the hidden beverages. FertilizeHer was there, and C’Mon, and Just Alexi and Virgin Justin and Hot Smegma, I think. Accepting them at their word, the rest of us enjoyed the fruits of their search in a completely carefree manner, unconcerned that there may be more beers lurking, undrank, in some secret little pocket somewhere nearby. Woe! Sadness! According to Floss, there were TWO unfound beers at that final stop. Hounds can’t count either, it seems.
ON-IN to Circle -///—>
Jesus res’erected his self to lead our circle! Oh happy day! He even still had the cross beam of his, um, Cross. That word looks weird if you stare at it long enough and repeat it several times. cross cross coors scrotes rocs crocs cross.
WHEN ONE HARE DRINKS… ALL RABBITS DRINK!
Down Downs were dished out (listed in the order I come to remember them) for:
r*cism – tasty@tough turtle that morning
farthest traveled – endo from Hershey and cafi who had just come from Arizona
cums lately – Alexi, Prashant, Bedside, UFO, Table It
Virgins Amy and Justin
Bedside Pole Dancer tried to get Baster to put on some boxer briefs she found on trail but he ran away. So, she put them on herself. She should have her name changed to Roadside Manderpants
Just Alexi finally got named!!! He shall forever after be known as Putin Mouth!
On-After at Chez Floss – Hot Tub boob checks by Nurse and Tick checks by Head for Tasty who kept forgetting to bring beer outside for Bobbit Dunga.
We ran out of beer! The shame…
Tasty foolishly brought her dog, Rhea of the Poos, who was wandering aimlessly around the Farmer’s Market while Tasty was getting felt up in the hot tub. When the beer ran out, she went home and shared a pound of bacon with Rhea to apologize for leaving her unattended. She also took unflattering selfies of her, Rhea and bacon.
Post trail ticks reported found;
Nurse & Brownie – 3 – 1 neck, 1 balls, 1 other
Tasty – 2 – 1 ribs, 1 inner thigh
Kicky – 1 balls
Twerk – 1 elbow (who gets a tick on their elbow?)
Floss – 4 – he’s not telling where they were & we aren’t asking
On-waitforit………..-On!
Tasty
