Hash 147 - Easter Comes Too Soon

We seem to be in a groove, so to speak, aptly matching hash dates to anniversaries of great consequence to space exploration. Make of that what you will, but I think I know a lot more about the feeling of zero gravity since I started hashing, so it feels relevant. The diligent Hasher will remember that Hash 146 was on the anniversary of Mariner 10 flying past Mercury, and 148, the Winery Hash, will fall on the somewhat less auspicious anniversary of NASA's Ranger 4 crashing into the moon in 1964.

Actual NASA photo of the 1964 incident.

Although hash 147 took place on the 37^th anniversary of Yuri Gagarin's flight in Vostok I – the first manned space-flight, and the first manned orbit around the earth, we chose to focus more on the fertility of egg-laying rabbits than on Yuri's trip because that obviously has so much more potential, and the promise of bunny outfits and egg hunts just seemed to align better with proper hash behavior.

The real reason Sir Sump Pump couldn't make it to the Hash.

And so we gathered at the lovely Estadio Corfo, where One Erection graciously procured us a covered outdoor picnic area complete with grill. Estadio Corfo is more a country club than a stadium as such. What's more, this particular one is still widely known by its previous name, Estadio Las Condes, and has an entrance that is unlabeled and not at the nominal street address, making the location challenging to find for first timers. It was a sporty adventure, and Hashers milled around the outside looking a bit like Monty Python's philosophers playing soccer, until the first one found the entrance and the rest quickly followed.

Proper mingling took place as we prepared to go off on our exciting adventure. Here we see more experienced Hashers hydrating in preparation for the arduous trail. 

As you can see, we are a devout bunch and quite set on respecting the delicate traditions of fertility and resurrection that this hash represents, so some of us wore plastic rabbit masks, ears, and other signs of devotion.

We briefly gathered in the traditional circle to go over strategy, trail markings, and such. We were graced on this occasion with a guest General Mismanager, Cumming Up for Air, an important part of Santiago H3 history and an experienced leader, who is visiting from down-over-to-the-left.

Virgins were introduced before setting off

And the hares, the lovely Scrum on my Face and Just Andres, explained the markings and vicissitudes of the trail.

Then then a warmup happened, led by our tireless Beer-Meister, BiWeekly Deposit.

Introductions out of the way, we took off on the trail laid by Scrum on My Face and Just Andrés. The wankers outnumbered the runners by a considerable margin, which was smart, given that there were literal Easter Eggs to be found along the trail and when you're looking down at your feet as you run, trees and cars have a way of jumping out in front of you.

...and that's how Easter Eggs are made.

We few runners failed to find a single egg. Considering the fact that we had a hare with us, and did our level best to corrupt him and have him spill the beans as to the location of these hidden gems, we failed pretty miserably. Not one egg, candied or otherwise was found by the runners. OTOH, the wankers did better. Strip, Minor! and Just Vicky both discovered proper eggs. Alas, the promised prize – a big luscious chocolate egg, had been mislaid, so to speak. Clearly Strip, Minor! and Just Vicky are owed.

Most survived the gently sloping trail with its promise of prizes and rewards. Once back at the ranch, we gathered and mingled while Veni VD Vici, in his capacity as Piss Pourer, set the stage, and then off to Circle. Virgins and those that made them come were tough-love rewarded for their efforts, while Reverse Cowgirl, the Shut-the-Fuck-Upper, enjoyed her gun a little too much!

The usual business was attended to. The trail was declared shitty. Good job, Scrum on my Face and Just Andres. Important business including some garage sales and announcements about English lessons out of the way, we found ourselves in a naming.

She quickly sheds anything that could soak up beer, demonstrating her wisdom in the ways of Namings

...but she took advice from, and trusted the wrong people. So now she must be a proper hasher. Here, your trusty RA explains that she might get a little wet & messy along the way.

"Well, just a little, right?" ... "Would I lie to you?" Do you notice Sir Cumming Up for Air preparing a little surprise behind her?

Welcome to the fold... Strip, Minor! thinks it's pretty funny!

Welcome, one & all, Spank my Pony. Your secrets are safe with us. We're proud to count you in our mystic ranks.

Once the circle was done, we had much grilled meat and hot sauce and plenty of beer, as usual, with the jokes getting funnier as the afternoon wore on. There was a bit of a wedding setting up near us, so we got bathed in the smoke of 2 lambs crucified and burned upright with arms spread - a very Jodorowski sort of scene.

A word of advice - If you're going to have a big fancy wedding at a country club on the same day as a Hash, don't leave cardboard cut-outs of the bride and groom unguarded around a bunch of perverse drunken Hashers while smoking them out with your burning meat. There's an awful lot of lewd selfies floating around the interwebs now of both the bride and groom giving and receiving unspeakable promiscuities with a whole series of random Hashers, it would appear. Just deserts for not moving the damned burning crucifixes ten feet over to avoid smoking out the quincho.

Once again, thanks for the organizational work to Prune, Bi-Weekly Deposit, Mariachi Masturbator, Sir Acting Semen, Moon Job, Sir Cumming Up for Air, and countless others who made this premature Easter Hash a success. We are resurrected, to Hash another day...

Hash 146 - Never Forget the Probe!

Of course we were all excited to celebrate the 40^th anniversary of the first beer-can to fly by Mercury, the red planet! Who doesn't love the image of a very large beer-can squirting propellant through outer space, the reddish hue of a Pale Ale, or better yet, an Irish Red Ale. We owe thanks to Veni VD Vici for graciously hosting the event at his building's quincho, which was suspiciously close to a stable orbital trajectory altitude and at least as cold once again, promoting the camaraderie and esprit de corps necessary to survive these little trials while making merry. To be fair, the RA is personally responsible for the cold, so no points lost for Veni VD Vici.

After a brief introduction, the dropping of the bags, and a good deal of organizational finesse from Prune, who handled the baggage claim with not a single backpack ending up accidentally in Muncie, IN, we offed to reconnoiter a truly treacherous trail laid by our visiting dignitary from NC, Glitter Puss, and his valiant ward Just Joao.

And what a trail it was. One would think that in a posh neighborhood in an old Latin city, where many a century the sidewalks have seen only lightly dusted spats on elegant shoes promenading right beside the genteel clacking of fine mahogany walking-sticks, a trail could be nothing if not placid, but Glitter Puss and Just Joao had something else entirely in store for us. It was like entering the Minoan Labirynth. More checkpoints than trail markers, constant uncertainty, and repeated expeditions in directions that led to nowhere! It was a Hitchcock thriller – the upsetting part!

Thank our pagan gods for the beer-stop. It was good, and there was beer. A second stop had to be pruned from the march due to time constraints and the loss of many souls in the treachery of the tortuous trail through the vast bourgeois savannah that lay between us and more cold beers, but hashers are made of strong stuff, and so the sacrifice was handled with very little crying and whining.

Many having forsaken the faith and made their way back to home base for safety and a little beer, we gathered for the circle, which was led with humor and grace by Sir Acting Semen, with your humble servant, Multiple Entry, performing duties pertaining to the faith. Many down-downs were administered in the wake of some lacking hasherdashery, minor indiscipline, and a most terrible(excellent, that is) trail, which garnered a spectacularly low(good) score on account of its unusual treachery and other proper hash behaviors.

Piss-pouring was handled with grace and aplomb by Prune, Veni VD Vici, and Sir Acting Semen, as virgins were introduced, and rules explained. At first some didn't get it, but they came around.

See how Our Lager makes everything better?

A baptism eventually took place: welcome, one and all, One Erection to the fold. We had a good view of the latest centerpiece in the architectural lanscape that is Santiago, the Costanera Center, tallest building in Latin America, if you can believe those measurements... Worn down by the relentless interrogation that is part and parcel for the induction into such an elite and selective group as the H3, our newest disciple confessed, under duress, that she once had a very intimate meeting in that very building with every member of the musical luminaries known as One Direction. She confided that between the lot, theirs perhaps constituted one single adult-sized erection, and so that became her knighted name.

We concluded amidst much rejoicing for the capitulation of the circle, as Archisexual Dancer and Last to Come tended the grille and provided the stuff of life: Let them eat Choripan!

Obviously, no one gets along in this group...

Once again a big thanks to Veni VD Vici for hosting, Sir Acting Semen for his flawless General Mismanagement, Glitter Puss and Just Joao for bravely forging a trail where none had been forged, Prune and Mariachi Masturbator for baggage handling that involved no unintended reroutings to Muncie, IN, Prune, once again, for organizational and Piss Pouring grace under pressure, Moon Job for being the responsible one with assiduous record-keeping re. namings, hash cash, etc., Bi-weekly Deposit and Archisexual Dancer for beer-meistering, possibly the most important and pivotal contribution to making us worship our lager, Last to Come for the excellent photography, and once again, Prune and Stroke My Bono for handling hasherdashery duties.

In the end, the group dispersed into multiple after-parties, with all invited to every one and sad to only have the ability to attend one at a time. Some may still possibly be there...

Hash 147: Who Loves Easter Eggs?

On April 12, 1961, Yuri Gagarin became the first human to make a space flight, a round trip round trip, orbiting the planet once. He took 108 minutes. Good man! - But that's beside the point:


Since Easter is so near and dear, let's celebrate with eggs and bunny outfits! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

HASH# 147: Who Loves Easter Eggs?!
HOST: One Erection
DATE: Saturday, April 12, 2014
TIME: 14h (that's 2pm in regular talk...)
WHERE: Estadio Las Condes, Avenida Las Condes 11755, Las Condes
HARES: Scrum on My Face and Andrés No Name
QUINCHO?: Y
COST: CLP 3000

St. Patrick's Day Hash

We celebrated Saint Patrick's Day with not one, but two, Irish bars (take that, Dublin! IN YOUR FACE). The lovely Double Stuffed Potato and Micky Gin hosted us in the ultimate year of the Flannery's car park, and Stain Pants and Oiler My Penis Cock led us on a lovely trail to Fiddler's Irish pub and back.

We briefly welcomed the two virgins, who would multiply like mold on manjar in a petri dish in our absence, or, if you like butterfly analogies more than when I talk about moldy manjar then, that's just like, your opinion, man, BUT ALSO imagine the wet, soft pupa chrysalis cocoon thing of two gringos majestically somehow becoming like nine Chileans who hate timeliness.

Yes. Imagine that, Dear Reader.

So we circled up, a little disappointed with the virgin turnout but keeping a brave face nonetheless because we can always cry in private, that's where we cry. Then we did chalk talk, which there are no pictures of, which was okay because Stain Pants and Oiler My Cock couldn't draw pictures of boobs in flour on the floor of Flannery's anyway because doing so would be deeply rude, and, then, only then, we left to run. 

And we ran to a BEER STOP!

Beer stops, and the hashers that love them. That's my next book.

I can't believe I shaved my armpits for this picture.

There, we enjoyed delicious beer on the patio and watched a sports game featuring a ball. 

And then some of the runners ran back, some walked, and about half of you lazy fucks took the metro back, which is cool. I'm not judging. 

Back in our musky little tent, new song sheets featuring some Chilean songs were distributed,

Maxipad with WINGS: Is that really how you spell vagina? Frozen Nuts: Dude. NO IDEA. Double Stuffed Potato: I cannot believe I'm overhearing this.

beer was greened,

Vini V.D. Vici celebrates his inaugural piss pouring with his own private party crouch

Stroke My Bono, JustVicky and JustMonica demonstrate different ways of using legs and mouths

and the circle was called to order. Octopussy introduced the 2014-2015 Mismanagement Committee and then queried our virgins and spies in pleasant demographics like names, nationalities, and whether they were of an underwear-abiding people or were nasty. Sir Sump Pump acted as Pecker Inspector, growing more emboldened, and likely, erect, with each newcomer.

Okay, maybe the erect comment was below the belt.

Ba-dum ching!

¿Cachai?

JustFelipe takes the pecker inspection with a smile

JustKara of Sierra Leone HHH taught us her native, and highly messed up hash hush: sumo crouch, anointed finger pointed upwards, flexed arm rocking back while biting out "Respect the GM" and air-fingering her anus. In the tortured, awkward space that followed, we thanked Sir Sump Pump for being such a great GM, but not in that way. Never in that way.

We held an abbreviated circle due to the band warming up for the St. Patrick's Day Festivities, but made sure to provide beers of disapprobation to returned hashers who had missed the last hash. We chastised the more attractive folks more poignantly, as their beauty makes us miss them more. 

Viagra Vixen, Scrum on MY FACE, and Lick 'n Learn wiggle all the wiggles

Namings were postponed in order to keep the floor clean in a vaguely ironic way, and Multiple Entry sang I'm a little tea pot from memory. Ballsy.

Sleeping Beauty cannot BELIEVE how bad we are all at this. WTF is Scooby My Doo even doing? He's not even looking the right way. This is punishing, people.

The circle was declared fucked, and we went out to the front patio to enjoy the oferta Flannery's had provided, making some new friends,

Sir Sump Pump mobilizes the street dogs into action

and loving on the ones we already have.

Glazed eyes, full hats, can't lose

THANK YOU again to Double Stuffed Potato and Micky Gin for hosting us, and to Stain Pants and Oiler My Cock for haring!

Hash 146: Space Probe Hash!

Forty years ago this March 29, NASA's Mariner 10 spaceprobe became THE very first spaceprobe to fly by Mercury.

HASH# 146: the Spaceprobe hash!
HOST: Pussy Wagon DATE: March 29TH
TIME: 16 HRS (vamos a los 16:00! Llega antes de 16:00!)
ADDRESS Y LUGAR DE ENCUENTRO: Antonio Bellet 240
HARES:Glitter Plus & JoaoNoName

Hash #144 Annual General Piss Up and Piss OFF

 

It was a grey and cold afternoon, announcing that some of our hashers were leaving.

The Terremotos of the previous night didn’t help, several of our hashers were surprised by this popular and dangerous drink… what happens in La Piojera, doesn’t stay in La Piojera…Tan solo nos tomamos unos pocos terremotos, pero lo que deben saber es que el terremoto es engañoso, es muy dulce, pero la caída puede ser muy amarga.

 

We would like to say “Hasta Pronto” and not goodbye to Sir French Polisher, Sir Lady Bug and Lady Muffler Sucker, you will be missed! Cold ass, cool hasher.

 

 

 They could not escape from “The Order of the Purple Pukus”

 

 If one Chilean drinks, they all drink.

Este farol no alumbra, no alumbra este farol (x2)

Pongale parafina y alumbrará mejor, pongale,pongale,pongale

(down,down,down...) 

Welcoming the 2014 Mismanagement Committee!

From the other side world, Octopulpobbq travelled a long way in representation of our new Grand Master, Octopussy.

Bi-Weekly Deposit, “rearelected” and our new Hash Flash , Last to Cum.

BUSTED! No Cuntry for Old Men is one of our new Piss Pourers.

   

Like a gladiator going into the arena, get ready for our new Religious Advisor… Multiple Entry, go and impart some wisdom.

 

The Fantastic Four: Reverse Cowgirl, as one of the sheriffs of the STFU Police, Dance Whore as Beer Meister Assistant, Prune as Hare Raiser and Hasher Dashery, and Veni V.D Vici as Piss Pourer.

 

First, we would like to thank Sir Sump Pump for his hard work and crazy ideas for the Hash in the last few years as our Grand Master, now he wants to keep a low profile so, he will be our Pecker Inspector, el terror de los calzoncillos!.

 

Introducing Acting Seman as Hash Matress and Virginity Coach and Stroke my Bono as the other sherrif in STFU Police and Hasher Dashery.

And we also would like to welcome Bob Stain Pants, Sewage and Moon Job to the 2014 MC.

 

Some are swinging , some are cuming…

 

 

Buscando a la patrulla.