Yesterday, whilst I was recovering from a rather special hangover, the city erupted into a festival of jollity and Christmas spirit(s). At least five thousand people dressed up like Santa (with varying degrees of commitment) in New York for SantaCon.
In a similar flurry of nonsensical holiday-themed revelry, today was the NYC H3‘s annual Santa’s Sluts run. I don’t really think I need to explain that in any greater degree of detail.
With limited suitcase space, one of the things I’m missing over here is any semblance of fancy dress. That’s my excuse for the fact that I went running and drinking in Manhattan wearing nothing but a pair of novelty boxer shorts I found for $5 yesterday. Well, those and a pair of trainers, obviously.
For this outfit, I was rewarded with the prestigious honour of the hashers’ Asshole of the week. It even comes with its own song, which harkens back to the English colonial origins of hashing. Try not to read it too phonetically. The title should belie the pronunciation of the first word pair.
A-sol, a-sol, a soldier I will be,
For c[o]unt, for count, for country and my Queen,
Two-pist, two-pist, two pistols on my knee,
A-sol a-sol a-sol a-sol a soldier I will be.Drink it down down down down, down down down down, down down {ad infinitum}
I presume others will be posting up pictures of my lack of an outfit later, so I’ll share them when they do. For now I’ll just share one of the outfits that, whilst pretty far from the night’s theme, still managed to impress. This particular chap got a happy birthday song when he was called up to drink.
There was some murmuring as to whether the crown of thorns broke the ‘no hats in the circle’ rule though.
Xx
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