We Declare Independence From Sobriety!

Oh say can you swig
From the beer's foaming head?
What so proudly we chug,
'Til we fall into bed.

This past Saturday was Hash #127, the Independence Day Hash, hosted by Billy Scroat Gruff near the Santa Isabel metro stop.  It was a chilly day, but not a terrible one for hashing.  No day is a terrible day for hashing after all...

The runners convened around 2pm, sang a rousing rendition of Father Abraham, and dashed off into the cloudy, dog poo-strewn streets of Santiago Centro.

clapping is the BEST

Hares Billy Scroat Gruff, Easy As 123, and No-Name-Virgin-Charlie led the hashers on a heart-pumping hike up Santa Lucia, through Parque Forrestal and back through the Baquedano/Bustamante area. 

I'm Manuel Baquedano, and I approved this message.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Easy As 123 served as the Grand Master for the afternoon, with Sump Pump resuming his previous post as Religious Advisor.  

This picture represents much of my experience as an English Teacher.   Including the beer. 

Gotta fart gotta fart gotta fart 

ohhhhhyeaeaaaaahhhhh that's a winner

Something...smells...familiar...

I will now draw your attention to our host, who seems to be singing an 80's rock ballad by himself in the next series of photos.

"Don't stop, belieeeeevin'"

"hold on to that feeeeeelin, ohh"

The highlight of the day was most definitely the naming.  Jessica and Jeff let loose in oh, so many ways.

"I think we should take our shirts off!"

"I was bisexual in college!"

Jeff: "ok honey, I think that's plenty"
Jessica: "no they need more material!"

"We've had orgies, and I like anime porn, especially with octopi!"

That. was. plenty.

Please welcome Splooge Bob Stain Pants and Octopussy to the Hash Family.

Finally, did you see Sump Pump's baller new hoodie?

stylish from behind.  tee hee double entendre 

That's right!  If you ordered a Hash Hoodie they are printed and ready for pickup!  Come to the next Hash, or email us to come get yours!  

Next time we will be celebrating Christmas in July at the Black Rock Pub...get your ugly sweater on on!

Seaside Shenanigans

Hash #126 took us yet again to the beautiful beach town of El Quisco for a lovely day of smog-free debauchery.

We loaded up our "Party Bus" at the crack of 11... err noon (thanks to a few gringos who have overly assimilated to Chilean culture), and made our way to Sump Pump's fantastic seaside abode.  Sir Sump Pump, Finger in the Dyke, and their army of dogs set a Shitty Trail  winding through the hills (damn the hills), rocks and more hill type things.  During the chalk talk, this puppy (who still needs a home I understand) demonstrated less about how to follow the trail and more about how to eat it.

Bone Her Parts is both bored and appalled

The runner's, led by Moon Job and Book of Hormones, lost the trail within the first ten minutes, found it, and then realized that seagull shit is not in fact flour and that we were in fact still lost.  Eventually, we figured it out and were on our way....

Flour or Poo?  I'm not gonna taste it... you taste it...

To the Beer Stop.....

Beer is SOO near.

Or not... FAKE OUT.... sad hashers

"I long to be.... Close... to ... Brew..."

When we arrived at the actual beer stop, there was much rejoicing, multiple thumbs ups, and some interpretive dance lead by Turtlehead.

Back at home, we began what would turn into the World's Longest Circle.  Cummming Up for Air acted as GM while Sir Sump Pump resumed his role as Religious Advisor in French Polisher's absence.  To celebrate both Sir Ladybug's 70 th Hash (Get a life.. Get a life... Get a life life life) and Bone Her Parts' final Hash before returning to the Sunshine State, both of them earned VIP seats in the mushpot of the circle, along with down downs to accompany every virgin, sinner and loudmouth that earned one throughout the night.  

Before long, the circle slipped into it's usual unruly state of disaster, and Turtlehead took on the all important job of the guy that yells variations of "Shut the Fuck up" every few seconds.  Side note, remember the last time we were here and Turtlehead did this:

We like you better like this... Fully clothed and in this country.

Seriously, this circle was just chalked full of stupid, but then in a moment of clarity, someone (or a lot of someones) realized that Basani was wearing new shoes.  

SHAME!!!!

And then somehow it was decreed that her punishment would be doled out to our VIPs.  Ladybug took it (or wore it) like a champ, while Bone Her Parts gave everyone the finger with her mind.

Things continued to unravel... 

And meanwhile.... 

When it finally came time for the namings, one of the three, in a true display of hash appropriate behavior was nowhere to be found (and was later carried onto the bus).  Sump Pump shared his stage with Book of Hormones, and after a few stories that somehow all seemed to center around sexual sadness in cold weather/water, we officially welcomed Frozen Nuts and Thermal Do Me into the Hash family.  

Last chance to back out...

Chile's finest

              

Afterwards, there were plenty more shenanigans, and the stories about those "yet to be named" flowed like... well... beer.  

Don't miss Hash #127 as we celebrate "Merica at the Independence day Hash in Centro.  July 6th.  

A Less Sophisticated Garden Party

Hello there ladies and wanklemen!  This past Saturday a whopping 60+ people came out for Hash #125: Napoleon...Dynamite?  Hosted at "That Irish Chick's" house, as we had taken to calling her.  But no longer, because she was named that day...which I will get to later just HOLD ON.

See, I completely missed the theme on this one.  I was thinking about CONQUEST and TINY PENISES but when I showed up, the girls were dressed up as Trisha from the movie "Napoleon Dynamite."

Pedro: Who's Trisha?

Napoleon Dynamite: My woman I'm taking to the dance.

Pedro: Did you draw her a picture?

Napoleon Dynamite: Heck yes I did.

So...that was weird.  Nevertheless, we warmed up!  Scrum On My Face led the Father Abraham festivities.

Nora hasn't been able to successfully do the YMCA since that rabid puma fight in which three major tendons in her shoulders were severed.  This was a sick, sadistic reminder of that terrible, terrible day.

Then we ran!

"You have to run now, just...you have to...GO THAT WAY"

OK but really, we ran!

Crossing on red.  All the danger.

Ok, hands on hips, casual yet mysterious smile...Jarred never missed an opportunity to strike one of his professional modeling poses, lest a camera be watching.

Our hares, Texas Hornstar and Texas BJ Assacre led us through the shady and suburban areas of Providencia, up through Pedro de Valdivia, through the masses of confused Chileans (teehee) to...

A BEER STOP YAYYYYYYY

how pissed is that couple to the right?

We swarmed the storefront area of a tiny sandwich shop, angered the patrons, drank delicious beer, and made a huge ruckus.

Alright, check out this next series of photos as we're trying to take a group shot.

it's

like

herding

cats

Here is this picture again, so you can catch a few important details.

gray-shirt lady is having none of it
the guy we pissed off just photo-bombed us.  FTW.

A few of our hashers had trouble running post-beer stop.

How did we not give her a down-down for this?!

We finally made it back to have our circle.

So a blonde, two brunettes and a redhead are at a giant, sexualized, alcoholic running event...
(is the beginning of a joke I would tell if it weren't the truth)

the original Field of Dreams

And a panoramic shot, courtesy of Steve, for good measure...

The circle was long and full of misbehaved wankers, as per usual.  But it was punctuated with some really great moments.  Here's a pic of Curtis announcing to the crowd that they had met and surpassed their monetary goal at Vannie's benefit on Wednesday :)

hoo ha

Also, three namings!  

"I'd cover you with something other than flour if we had my way, so count your blessings you little harlots."

That's gotta feel good.

Please welcome Multiple Entry, Twice Stuffed Potato and Complete Coverage!   Welcome you three!

Finally we asado'd, someone broke Twice Stuffed Potato's toilet, we drank, and we decided to go to....FLANNERY'S!  Oh, you're not surprised?  (Yeah, me either.)  Regardless, it was a great end to a great Hash.  

Next Hash we bus it to El Quisco to spend some time at the beach with Sump Pump and his adorable pups.  Get your bank transfers in ($13000)!  On on!

One Small Step in Poo, One Giant Smell for Hashkind...

To be clear, nobody stepped in poo this Saturday at Hash #124: Moon Landing.  Moon Job kindly hosted us on his Las Condes rooftop quincho for a light, fall-weather jaunt.

We started off with some Father Abraham, as is tradition.

Nobody move!  I dropped my diamond encrusted priceless gold watch!  

Little known fact: Richard Simmons has served as an inspirational role model for Kevin throughout the years.   

Then our happy hashers followed the trail around Escuela Militar left by hares Bone Her Parts and Cumming Up For Air.  

"But if my socks were any lower you'd see my weird ankles.  I'm self-conscious, ok??"

Racists go one way, Wizards go another.

Back at the ranch, Hashers relaxed and enjoyed the setting sun's last beautiful rays of warmth.  

"Duck, duck, duck..."

and then we were really fucking cold.

Cumming Up For Air served as our Grand Master for this Hash.  He did a fabulous job yelling "SHUT THE FUCK UP"

"I decree that all Hashers will be seen as equal, regardless of the color of their socks, the speed of their down-down, or the fit of their Hasher Dashery."

leading by example

Then French Polisher stepped in as Religious Advisor.

"Wait I know I've done this before..."

"Ah whativah, I'll jist pace around in circles"

It was Acting Semen's 50th Hash, which means that he joins the Order of the Purple Pukus.  We poured a beer on his head. It was awesome.

Golden Throat graciously invited the group to her awesome Johnny Depp themed costume party afterwards; the only picture of which I have posted here:

Ray and I call this: Upright Planking.

Please remember kids, next Wednesday night is the benefit even for Mariachi Mansturbator.  Come on down to Flan's at 8 to watch a show and get schwastey-faced.  See you there!