I’ve done a search, and turned up a couple references, so I know there’s a few of you.
For those unfamiliar, it’s a drinking club with a running problem. We usually meet at a pub, and the “hares” lay down a trail of flour. There are various marks they use to keep the “hounds” at bay, but everybody ends up running 2-5 miles within 2-5 hours and drinking 2-??? beers. There are no rules, only traditions. We often dress up, the most famous being a “Red Dress Hash”, where everybody wears a red dress. Yes, everybody.
For those of you who are hashers, what’s your hash name, and how’d you get it?
Mine is Giggles. Lame, I know. But that’s why they did it. I knew all of their songs from rugby, and even contributed some of my own before my 5th has. Some of them were rather racy, and they decided I was too vulgar to get a “proper” name, as I’d like it too much. So, Giggles it was.
Also, if you have any stories about blood on trail, wankers, or shiggy, I’d love to hear 'em!
Haven’t run in ages, seeing as I was busy having a baby, but my hash name is Teacher’s Pet (both my parents were teachers!). Aaaahhh, I miss the beers and the ice-block!
I used to love doing it with the first group I ever did it with. In subsequent places I’ve lived, I was never into it as much and haven’t done it in years.
I set a right son-of-a-bitch solo one day. I think I personally ran about 15 miles that day between setting (including false leads) and re-running with the group. It went through brambles. It was hilly as hell.
Some Brit friends who had worked in Southeast Asia brough hashing to my business school when I was there years ago. Then when I traveled in SEAsia right after school, I ended up going on a hash run in Bali - oh, man, one of the most beautiful experiences - running through the jungles and coming across temple ruins and monkeys and such - very Indiana Jones - with beer at the end!!
I’m Pee Wee; got the name because I was 12 years old on my fifth run, in 1984. (Doing a down-down with a Coke is not pleasant.) My dad is Shiggy Pits.
I got my name in Atlanta (AH[sup]4[/sup]), but did more running with the Tokyo Ladies’ Hash (it’s more fun than the men’s, because there are ladies there). I did a few in Pittsburgh in the 80s as well, but I haven’t hashed since 1991 or so.
WordMan, I was lucky enough to attend the 1988 InterHash in Bali; that was some of the most amazing countryside I’ve ever seen, like running around in a National Geographic pictorial for a few days.
I gotta say, I’m really surprised by the tameness of the names here. The one that my friend belongs to has all names that refer to sex acts or anatomy or perversion in some way.
There’s two twins here, about 4 or 5, named “Porter” and “Stout”. How cute!
No, we just got stuck with lame names… some from the Hashers names I’ve met have been:
Twat Blossom, Dildo Baggins, Virtual Blowjob, Second Hand Dyke, Flaymin Gayman, Fu Man Chu Me, Urethra Franklin, Used Up Cowgirl… to name a few. Twat Blossom’s husband actually requested her name be changed because he thought it was too demeaning (he wasn’t a hasher), so we changed it to Twiggy Flanders.
On On!
(And for those wondering what “On on,” means, it’s what you say to let others know you’ve found a flower blob, to facilitate the group moving along the trail. EVERYBODY’S favorite thing to shout is “Beer Near!”, when you stop at a beer stop. :))
Depends, I guess. My husband’s is very tame (The Last Boy Scout) and his best friend is Charlie Brown. Others in their Hash House have names like Shakey Pussy and Baby Blow Job. I thank Og every hash that I haven’t done anything stupid enough to earn my own hash name yet (our “personal hashing card” just has a placeholder that says ‘Insert Hash Name Here’ for me. Even though it’s completely against the rules, I keep hoping people think that’s really my name and it sticks.
During the afternoon prior to the last Full Moon Hash we went on, I had cut my husband’s hair. When we arrived at the meeting spot, we went to sign in. My husband extends his hand to the guy with the clip board and introduces himself, “Hi. The Last Boy Scout.” The clip board guy takes his hand and replies, “Nice haircut, asshole.” I was mortified, until we realized he was merely introducing himself, and not providing an opinion on my work.
It’s also somewhat dependent on golden opportunities for naming cropping up. Kinda like when on the boards someone points out ‘X would make a great BAND NAME!’: there are times when suddenly everyone realizes that ‘XYZ’ would make a great hash name for someone.
Beer Near?
Looking!
As for me, I was ‘daughter of …’. Never did much in the way of running, and it is no longer in the cards for me. Now if only I could poke my Dad back into running…
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Ha! If I was in your hash group, I’d see to it that your name became “Insert Hasher Here”
You know, I never heard of a moonlight hash until today, when I got an email from the Albuquerque H3 group. Guess who’s going to their first one tomorrow!
In my old kennel - Aarhus H3 - the above-mentioned Charlie Brown was picked up for interrogation by the keen-eyed investigators of the local Drug Squad, who’d jumped to logical (yet utterly wrong) conclusions about the nature of a club with the word “Hash” in its name. It didn’t take long for the forces of the law to realize their mistake, and Charlie left the precinct a free man. However, Charlie’s not a man you want to cross, so he immediately contacted the media and made both the papers as well as the coveted spot as the “silly news item” on national TV a few days later.
No problems with local law enforcement since then…
I joined the Scandinavian contingent (“The Viking Wankers”) for the 96 Interhash on Cyprus - starting a trail in an ancient Greek stadium is a pretty rare experience. The local brew (KEO) was good and plentiful, and I still have the very useful Greek phrasebook - where else will you find translations of useful conversation-starters such as “Please take me somewhere where they sell alcohol” - or the lost hasher’s lament “Excuse me, but have you seen a couple of hundred runners come this way?”
