I watched a snail crawl along the edge of a straight razor. That’s my dream. That’s my nightmare. Crawling, slithering, along the edge of a straight razor . . . and surviving.

Over 50 of the sexiest hashers ever to wear a red dress gathered at the Penny on a Saturday afternoon. After receiving even sexier soh4 red dress socks as hab, prelubing, and a nice presentation by a rep from Vera House, it was time for chalk talk where hares Drinks, Turtle, Camel, and OTD provided explanation of several new symbols. Though the hares were tired and drunk by then, so it was probably incoherent but hey at least trail was set in rainbow chalk! And then we were on out!

Which lasted up to the second check. Which hashers blew right past. And then assumed they weren’t on trail.

At this hash things get confused out there, power, ideals, the old morality, practical military necessity. But out there with these natives, it must be a temptation to be god. Because there’s a conflict in every human heart, between the rational and the irrational, between good and evil. And good does not always triumph. Sometimes, the dark side overcomes what Lincoln called the better angels of our nature.

So we were on hare over to the fountains. Which several hashers lamely skipped. After a solid quarter mile R6 that got hashers a nice view of the liquor store, we were off to the first beer near, where we figured it was a good time to introduce everyone and for Slip to remind us the days of the week.

At this point the red dress *run* had definitely turned into a red dress walk/stumble, as everyone waited at the Pink Taco Package Check for our guest of honor. Taco, having made the mistake of desiring more package checks, got her yearly supply and more than she bargained for, perhaps.

From there it was onto regathering at… the Hiawatha overpass walkway into Destiny USA. And on up to Toby Keith’s I Love This Bar and Grill for the second beer near. And then we all wandered from there over to the carousel for a ride.

It should be noted we attempted to take 2 shifts and be out of their way in 10 minutes when they reopened from breaks. It should be noted we attempted to have parents not ride with their children. Instead…

You have a right to do that, but you have no right to judge me. It’s impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means. Horror! Horror has a face, and you must make a friend of horror. Horror and moral terror are your friends. If they are not, then they are enemies to be feared. They are truly enemies.

So that happened, and then after taking pictures with several people in the mall we were on out to the creekwalk where there were jello shots. Except for the 10 hashers who literally blew past the FTOJS check and kept going, some of whom eventually made it back.

And then we were off to the final beer near at the playground near Middle Ages, where we kicked a keg from same establishment. Evidently the most controversial set of Jesus Can’t Go Hashing verses broke out and verses we have done a bunch of times upset some unnamed hashers. Some of us were more upset that Chunks implied that Anal can’t count.

And then some hashers drunkenly wandered into Middle Ages for even more beer. From here it was basically on in to the Penny. Food, circle, and then awards followed, as well as an announcement that we had raised a sizable amount of money for Vera House. Anyone who claims to remember what happened from here is obviously lying as people misplaced piles of red dresses, whatever remained of their dignity, and quite possibly their sanity…

This is the way the f**king world ends. Look at this f**king sh*t we’re in man. Not with a bang, but with a whimper. And with a whimper, I’m f**king splitting.

On – hashpocalypse now – on and respectfully submitted,
-OTD

PS – thanks and much love to the over 20 SOH4 members who helped make this day happen
PPS – most of this day is fuzzy memories.

Dressed in their finest red, white, and blue in support of the USA world cup game that coincided with the hash, about 50 hashers gathered on a Monday at the Tops parking lot in Manlius for SOH4 first hashlympics trail. Well eventually. A couple hashers wandered down to Mill Run Park before finding their way to the start. Meetup update fail, whoops.

Jackoff, affectionately known now also on the lust serv and elsewhere as Jackass (which is what we call hares who set water nears), provided chalk talk for the shitty trail he sent. That, and putting down a “Happy 6th Birthday Billy” sign in the pavilion day of trail to half-assedly reserve it, were his major contributions to this trail. UC and OTD would explain that there would be hashlympic event signups once we arrived at the field.

We ran Jackass, er, Jackoff’s short trail which had two boob checks and a package check before arriving at the hashlympics arena. From there sign-ups occurred, USA-Ghana score updates were provided, and other than that it’s a big awesome blur that left us incapable of speech or sobriety in ways that clearly altered our futures, destiny, and possibly, Gispert be praised, the nature of our humanity… because hashlympic results are now on the internet forever!

2014 SOH4 Hashlympic Event Results:

Beer Mile:
-Individual Male 1. Cummando Coobler 2. One Trick Dick 3. Just Cory
-Individual Female 1. Tweedle You
-Two-Person Relay 1. Kneegina / Just Nick 2. Pom Pilot / F*ckwod 3. Upper Decker Wrecker / Pink Penalty
-Four-Person
1. Pastorbator / Butters / Fleshlight / Turtle Dick 2. Jackoff / Tweedle Me / Deflower City / Table It 3. Golden Snowball / Just Pat / Utica Chub / Same Job, Different Orifice

Father Abraham Pedometer Jiggling:
1. Tweedle Me 2. Just Lindsy 3. Butters

3-person Pod Races:
1. Cummando Coobler / Just Bryan / Captain Cock Controller 2. Just Susan / Just Pat / Just Mat 3. Same Job, Different Orifice / Golden Snowball / One Trick Dick

2 Person Pool Noodle Races:
1. Stiffy Lube / Table It 2. Jackoff O’Lantern / Butters 3. Flame Her / Poop Soup

Dizzy Bat Relay (7 person teams):
1. Pom Pilot / Cummando Coobler / Fleshlight / Curious Gorge / Just Zoe / Bushy Cholera / Chunks and Dunks

Survivor Flip Cup:
1. Turtle Dick 2. Pom Pilot 3. F*ckwod

S&M Man Verse Singoff:
1. One Trick Dick 2. Cummando Coobler 3. Genital Manager

Shot Tray Drinking Races (5 person teams):
1. Cummando Coobler / Tweedle You / Tweedle Me / Just Cory / Floppy Dicks

Pool Noodle Tour De Franzia (10 person teams):
1. Pom Pilot / Genital Manager / F*ckwod / Jackoff O’Lantern / Turtle Dick / Curious Gorge / Just Zoe / One Trick Dick / Tweedle You / Cummando Coobler

Overall Male Hashlympian:
1. Cummando Coobler
2. Turtle Dick

Overall Female Hashlympian:
1. Tweedle Me

Respectfully Submitted,
One Trick Dick

13 Random Facts about Hash #84

1. It was a Full Moon Hash, but it was cloudy.
2. It was also Friday the 13th.
3. Hares were Kickstand, Jackoff O’Lantern, and Deflower City.
4. Near the start, trail crossed private property and a resident came out and yelled at the group and threatened to call the police on Jackoff who was climbing the fence anyway.
5. Trail had to be rerouted, but no one got arrested.
6. A runner from the Y Running club joined us on his evening jog.
7. The first Beer Near was at an abandoned building with graffiti and broken windows. A perfect place for a group picture.
8. As it got dark, the trail ran along the canal where some tasty (provided by hares) and not so tasty (provided by Tweedle) shots were imbibed.
9. Although cloudy, there was a nice Full Moon shot taken on the bridge over the canal. There are some really white asses in this kennel.
10. The second Beer Near had no beer, only water. That’s why Jackoff is a jackoff.
11. Trail back to the on-in went through a gross creek/sewage outlet and through a culvert.
12. There was 1 virgin, Just AJ, who got REEAAAALLY drunk. Super drunk. Mega Drunk. Smashed.
13. On-after was at JP Mulligan’s but the kitchen was closed.

Respectfully submitted,
Came with a Fake Name

The TriFUCTa Hash
Hash #83 was something of a debacle. It was aptly named the Trifucta Pete Hash for the abnormally high numbers of Peters haring—Kickstand, Genital Manager, and Cummando Cobbler. Our setting was the lovely Pratt’s Falls on a lovely pre-summer June night. Pre-lube and circle went without incidents and the kennel went On-out with the usual confusion about what the trifucta lie ahead.
Running through tall grass and woods and the usual shigtastic scenery and all was well—or so we thought. As everyone milled about at the first Beer Near, which was actually in the parking lot where we started, things started to get trifucted up. A rumor started to float around that we had lost a virgin. Yes, a virgin had disappeared unbeknownst to much of the hash. Now we like virgins and all, but really most of us are not all that attached to them yet. So we barely knew them and hardly noticed their absence, but someone brought them—and I may be looking at you Flesh Flaps—so I guess we kind of had to keep track of them.

As the hash went On-out and began finding checks and false trails, it seemed we had no hares who knew where trail was. Even our lovely RA who always maintains a sunny disposition seemed to be showing some frustration and dropping some F bombs. It was a Trifucta hash afterall.

Finally trail was found and hares returned with the information that the virgin left because of a tummy ache from running and drinking beer. What the Trifucta? So from there it was a typical trail of woods and water. The hash waded along through a stream and eventually arrived at the base of the Falls for the second Beer Near. It was a trifucting picturesque spot and lots of pictures were taken.

And then trail resumed and the hash made their way back to the On-in and circle. Hares were called in no less than three times for a shitty trail (or rather a trail with no hares!)—appropriate since it was a Trifucta Hash. The virgins who survived were welcomed and Flesh Flaps drank for hers who did not. There were down-downs for the usual nonsense and when one Pete drank, all Petes drank. So they drank a trifucting lot. And then the hash went in peace, possibly to get a piece.

On after was at Knoxie’s Pub where Snidely directed traffic. Food and merriement were had for a trifucting good time.

Respectfully submitted,

Came with a Fake Name

Hash #82 was classless. Yep, an Utterly Classless Affair in Madison County. Is there any other kind? Clearly the SOH4 faithful and not so faithful were ready to get their redneck on as there were over fifty hashers who made the trek out to Chittenango Falls State Park.
There was an assortment of classless folks, including plenty of rednecks, lots of references to farms and good ole ‘Murica, and possibly a mullet, but most notable were Rectal Retriever the cigarette smoking teen mom in cut offs and tank top and Shark Week sporting a plaid belly baring shirt, cutoffs, and cowboy hat. SOH4 does classless right. Yep.

There were introductions as we had a visitor from the So Happy It’s Tuesday Hash in Virginia and a few virgins. Rectal joined Fleshlight and Golden Snowball to hare and tried to give a somewhat coherent chalk talk. As usual it was a complete failure and incomprehensible. Kicky bestowed the Shovel of Shame upon Vagiant, the legal disclaimer was mumbled, and the hash set off with no idea of what was going on.

Immediately there was a creek crossing and then up a steep embankment, which was now more difficult with wet shoes. Shitty hares right from the start. After stumbling around the woods for a bit, possibly bleeding a bit, the hash came upon a shot check and a jug of down home goodness. Yee-Haw, now this was becoming a party! Not surprisingly it gave PA an opportunity to climb shit.

And on-out through the woods. At this point Bushy rekindled his love of nature and found a tree to be his companion on trail. He would eventually fashion it into a cross for Captain to bear. The trail came to a grassy area and in the distance a familiar little orange car was spotted. No matter where the trail went, the hash knew what that meant—Beer Near. After the BN, there was shiggy, and then some more shiggy, and then some more shiggy. Eventually they arrived at the second Beer Near is a far shiggyless picnic area. There was much refreshment and a lovely view of Chittenango Falls. But light was starting to wane, so it was on-out, cross and all.

Soon the hash descended and crossed a bridge with a view of the falls. This is where the hash diverged and some continued merrily on trail with the cross and others were beckoned by the cascading water. Those who plunged into the creek waded to the base of the falls and frolicked and played.

Eventually on-out was called and the soaking wet, but extremely happy half-minds made their way back on-in and circled up in the dark. The hares were accused of a shitty trail— not enough shiggy, not enough waterfalls, not enough blood on trail. Then virgins were welcomed and accusations were opened up to the circle. Down-downs were plentiful. Anal had shown up at the end, dressed all fancy and not at all redneck, so she did a down-down for being a late cummer.

And then the hash went in peace to get a piece, and the On-after was at the B&D Bar and Grill in Chittenango. It was late and the kitchen was closing soon, but the kennel managed to get their food and drink on before leaving Madison County behind.

Respectively submitted,
Came with a Fake Name

Hash #81 was a hot and humid one. The wankers gathered in Radisson on Memorial Day in their finest Super Hero garb to honor this fine country of ‘Murica. Captain America, Superman, and both Spider Man and Girl were among the Super Heroes. Pocahontas, a leopard, and Captain Chick in His Pants were also seen. And Nike Man which consisted of Pastor in tights and briefs. There was at least one mullet on trail as well, because nothing says ‘Murica like a mullet. Hares included Vagiantalia, Bushy Cholera, and Pom Pilot.

After the usual nonsense that is chalk talk—introductions, illegible flour marks, and the legal disclaimer, off went the hash in search of cold refreshment. Instead they found a bunch of running and a reverse that led them back to the start. And off again. This time they made their way into the lovely residential areas of Radisson and surely amused and horrified its residents. With the usual silliness of checks and false trails, the hash eventually made their way to the first Beer Near in a lovely backyard of some Radissonites—friends of Vag. The beer was surprisingly good for a hash affair and the shade was cool and pleasant. The hash lingered in the comfort of the backyard, serenaded the hosts with a rousing “Meet the Hashers,” and then was off like a prom dress again.

Back in the blistering sun and sweating profusely, a brief respite was found at a Brown Bag Check. What was in the mystery bag? Wine! After the contents had been drained the hash continued on following flour around the winding pathways and into the woods where there was the second Beer Near with cold beer and pleasant shade. And bugs. So as pleasant as the shade was, the hash had to get a move on.

After the BN the hash made their way through some shiggy and ended up at a playground. Much tomfoolery took place on the playground with swings, slides, and climbing equipment. But alas, the end of trail was near so the stay was not long. As an A-B trail there was shuttling required to get back to the start and conduct circle. That led to some creative carpooling and the answer to how many people can really fit in a toaster.

Waiting at circle we found a virgin Bobbitt. Seriously. He was properly welcomed after hares were publicly shamed for a shitty trail. Even better, the virgin Bobbitt was wearing full street clothes right down to his non-running shoes. Speaking of shoes, Just Lyle did a ceremonial toast out of his new running shoes. PP did a dead bug down-down with Vag pouring. Needless to say that didn’t go well! After all down-downs had been doled out the hash went in peace to get a piece, at least in theory. On –after was at Syracuse Suds on the River in B’ville.

Respectfully submitted,
Came With a Fake Name

Ladies and Gentlemen, wankers of all ages….step right up and hear about the greatest show put together by half-minds— SOH4’s Circus Hash #80! The fabulous show took place under the Big Top, aka the environs of East Syracuse, with your ringmasters Bushy Cholera and Snidely Whip Ass—completely decked out in his red coat and top hat!

The first spectacle of the evening was marked by the grand return of RA Slip and Swallow from her travels around Europe and the welcoming wankers and virgins. There was a grand display of incoherent chalk talk and then On-out!

The greatest show on earth featured plenty of clowns, but most notably Pink Taco and her big red nose. Shark Week came prepared to astound onlookers with her tight rope walking skills with her parasol and heart monitor, and gave half-minds a heart stopping show of walking on solid ground! Impressive for sure!

Half-minds demonstrated amazing feats of acrobatics at a playground check and five tu-tu clad ladies were seen riding a dinosaur! And oh, what a spectacle was enjoyed by onlookers as wankers searched for trail high and low! Hashers demonstrated spectacular skills and amazing balance as they climbed the railroad bridge for a picture check. And daredevils braved the shiggy through mud and standing water! Such skill and bravery! It would not be a circus without animal acts, so Puddle Humper provided plenty of entertainment to dazzle onlookers!

And of course no circus would be complete without tasty refreshments at intermissions:

GET YOUR LUKEWARM BEER NEARS!
GET YOUR ORANGE FOOD HERE!
GET YOUR SHOT CHECK!

The grand finale of the evening was the final circle at the On-in. Circus goers welcomed virgins and participated in various down-downs! Glasses were raised and debaucherous songs were sung. For the final feat of the evening, Kickstand performed magic and passed out necklaces to newly named hashers—including a very special one that he made appear from inside his pants! Ooooh! Ahhhh!

Then the Circus Hash went in peace, maybe to get a piece, and enjoyed mischief at the On-after at Trappers II, where the wankers ate, drank, and were very merry (and uncoordinated) on the sand volleyball courts.

Respectfully submitted,
Came with a Fake Name

Trail #79 began with a giant pre-lube at the Inner Harbor. We were actually pretty lucky that we found it since the Meetup directions put us in the wrong place. Oh half minds! But no worries…the sun was out and the beer was flowing. Eventually everyone found their way to the Inner Harbor Amphitheater parking area and there were lots of virgins!

Chalk talk was the usual incoherent babble and illegible marking, with Genital Manager and Pom Pilot as hares. There was a new twist for SOH4 with a BB check. Pom Pilot elaborated that it was for Brown Bag and that the hash could not move until the mystery contents of the brown bag were completely gone.

Once the legal disclaimer was out of the way the hash was On-Out. There was the usual miscues and running in the wrong direction but eventually all wankers ended up in Franklin Square at the first BN under a bridge. As the rushing brown waters flowed by we half minds partook in the usual selection of shitty beers. Virgins were introduced to some good old hash standard songs and then we were off looking for trail again.

In the heart of Franklin Square we ended up at the BB and passed around the mystery bottle of boozey goodness that looped around and around until it was finally kicked. And then the hash was off again stumbling along to the second BN. The usual bawdy hash songs were toned down a bit as we had an audience consisting of some small children and their dad. The kids were fascinated by the group so One Trick Dick led us in a very tame “If You’re Happy and You Know It.” It was probably the first and last time the hash sang anything that clean in public.

And then it was On-out again for the final push back to the On-in. This is where things got interesting. We experienced a major hash crash as Butters fell in a giant hole covered with a small sheet of plywood. Oh the blood! Not to worry though, as Bushy was more than happy to shred his pants for a make shift bandage. Safety third, kids. It was around her that the hash acquired some magical trail treasures with the most exciting being a small piano. This allowed Fleshlight to provide the musical accompaniment to the final circle.

And oh boy, what a circle. So with Slip away cavorting in Europe and Jackoff still MIA, OTD had been acting as RA…but Pastorbator was ready to give it a go in his new role as backup-backup RA. Nothing like a little on the job training. It made for a bit of chaos and controversy, but when all was said and done, hares were properly called out for a shitty trail, the giant group of virgins was welcomed, and plenty of down-downs were doled out. Snidely and an unusually dressed up Captain bobbitted the trail.

And then the real fun began. Namings. Four namings. Yep, four. Seriously. After debate and discussion and a near tabling the hash said good bye to the former Just Callie, Just Chris, Just Dani, and Just Richard and welcomed Poop Soup, Flame Her, Curious Gorge, and Pocket Asian. As the sun set and the fifty pounds of flour settled in the parking lot, the group dispersed—including the curious family of onlookers that had gathered to witness the spectacle. Then the hash went in peace—hoping for a piece.

The On-after was back at SOH4 HQ—aka J. Ryan’s—where much food, drink, and merriment were had—so much so that we almost got thrown out for some sidewalk pantsing. But alas, in the end, no one was thrown out and the HQ remained safe.

On-on!

Respectfully submitted,

Came with a Fake Name

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)