St. Patty's Day Hash

I would like to share with all of you an old Irish saying:

There are many good reasons for drinking,
One has just entered my head.
If a man doesn't drink when he's living,
How in the hell can he drink when he's dead?

This motto was one taken quite seriously by the Hash Fam this past Saturday at Hash #120: The St. Patrick's Day Hash.  Our favorite Irish pub Flannery's hosted us in a large (and rather elegant) green tent; a place we've formerly called, "that gross parking lot out back".  Really, an incredible transformation.

An extra 3 luca got us an awesome green t-shirt.

Casual Leprechaun is casual.

Jig time, time for jigging.

We were lost within the first 30 seconds. 

Michael has a rare disease in which he gets double arm-boners at the sight of a camera.

Once back on track, the green-garbed gang enjoyed a shitty shady jaunt through the rural areas of Providencia and Las Condes.  Hares Scrum On My Face and French Polisher even marked the trail with green chalk - just in case you were running along, having come from your local Irish pub, wearing your green shirt and your green accessories, thinking to yourself, "man, what day is it?"  You could look down, see some green flour, and HOLY HELL IT'S ST. PATRICK'S DAY I FORGOT.

The Bouncing Boobie Brigade

Upon entering a park, the Hashers were greeted with a rare treat - green and orange jello shots!!!  Seriously Mark and Nora, bravoo.  

"hooray for jello shots!" said the crowd.
"I never learned to center a photo!" said the photographer.

Back at Flan's, we had two glorious kegs to drain.  A drop or two of food coloring made the beer even more festive, and turned everyone's mouths a disgusting shade of crack-addict-that-gave-up-dental-hygiene green.  

The circle was surprisingly succinct this week.  All namings were postponed until the next hash, so as to keep the Flannery's artificial grass looking artificial and non-flour-y.  But look how many people came!

such eager little meercats

 Then the post-Hash shenanigans began.

Dick-with-a-'stache.  Someone call Andy Samberg. 

Hot girls always bend over in photos.

The fact that you don't understand static electricity is really working against you here, dog.
 

Hey, Dick-with-a-'stache is catching on!!!  

"Ima slobber yo face"

 

St. Patty's Day is badass.  Pirates are badass.  Therefore, by transitive property, Jack Sparrow is not out of place.

Finally, in addition to the regular Hash ridiculousness, we elected our new Mismanagement Committee for the 2013-2014 season.  Here they are folks...

If anyone wants Hasher Dashery, uh...do that shit.  Also send Jessica Fryman or myself your pics from the Hash if you want them to be included here.  

Ok guys and gals, see you next time.  ON ON!

Camping Hash at Bi-Weekly's (#119)

The Hash goes to the Country!

Last weekend the mighty Santiago hash abandoned it gritty city-slicker image and headed out to the farmland and broccoli fields on the edge of town for a spot of jogging/stumbling, foolin in the pool and even a bit of football!  All of that before the normal hash festivities even began beneath the gum trees at Leonardo's parcela next-door to our very own Bi-Weekly Deposits bean fields!


The hashers line up for the start of the 'race'

a bit of a jog through a lecheria..not sure who smelt worse, hashers or cows..

 A minor navigational mishap occurred while our worthy beermiester was on the sacred-quest of filling the hash beer coolers, which saw him shanghaied into another dimension for the legendary last-weekend-of-summer-holidays traffic snarl, so he wasn't able to make it.   The hash then had break-the-glass and revert to 'Emergency plan B' (B for buy more beer!).

Despite half the hash being out of town on a road trip to La Serena (2 blokes and 10 girls....sounds like you were a bit outnumbered lads!) we managed a half-decent crowd of would-be campers and sometimes runners who managed to muster at (almost) the allotted time and place on a sunny Saturday afternoon.

After the run, straight into the pool for a spot of water polo....



Futbol action..

Then for those with any energy left it was off to the soccer field for 'Chile Vs the Rest' or something like that (not sure what team Scooby-my-doo was on, and i don't think he was either!)
.

The GM decides to take the crocodile for one last ride..

Then it was time for some serious hash business back at the quincho.



Some virgins are inducted into the rituals of the hash

Names are handed out....to the only man who could follow the convoluted directions and actually made it to the hash via the public bus (see it can be done!!)



An Irish gent is born again as a Leprechaun

Then a sad farewell to two stalwarts of the hash....our lovely songmistress and the somewhat technologically challenged hashflash...




Dominasstrix and Full Service Bid us farewell in fine hash style and are inducted into... something or other..

After this it got really messy.....The hash decamped from the lush surrounds of Leo's parcela to the more 'earthy' delights of the selected campsite up the road.  Before long a fire was lit, 10 local dogs were adopted and the serious business of knocking off 5 or 6 bottles of wine and anything else vaguely alcoholic we could lay our hands on was commenced...

happy campers relaxing (or passing out?)  by the fire

bi-weekly deposit ties to fit something where it just won't go!

The RA shares some of his wisdom with a fireside oratory..

inspired by the Reggaeton playing next door, the campers break loose!

And finally the GM attempts to relieve some sore heads the next day with a traditional big-breakfast cookup!