Hash 458 3//26/09

Start: Santa Cruz Mountain Brewery
Hares: PCP and Aunty Cumina

Pack: Banana, Brave Brave Sir Robin, Broke Bench Mountain, Choka Cola, Cum Lord, Cumz Out My Nose, Daddy Warbucks, Dr. Nappy-Headed Ho, FingerNips, Flaccid Capacitor, Goat Blower, Goldiecoxxx, Got Milk, Hairy Potter, Hugh Heifer, Jizzbola and his younger brother Virgin Josh, O'HolyNuts, Just Zaga, Piss 'n Booths, Pixilated Obscenity, Pussy Galore, Ralph RU Crammed-In, Rod Lover, Snatch.com, Sunday Semen, Takes It Like A Man, Timmy!!!, Tiny Whiny Bitch, Vince Lamblowme.

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For hash #461 we meet at the Upper Harbor – well, those of us who could find it did. Attendees include: Puff MDQ and snatch.cum (hares), Finger Nips, Dr. Nappy Headed ‘Ho, Banana, Broke Bench Mountain, Timmy!, Vince Lamblowme, Sheep Rocker, Just Brian (for now), Rod Lover, Choka Cola, Hairy Potter, My Lil’ Boney, CSI, Got Milk ?!, Just Zaga, Tiny Whiney Bitch, Goldie Coxxx, Aunt Cummima, Hogazm. Those were the half minds with enough of a sense of dire-erection to find the start. O’Holy Nuts, Hangs Loose, and Virgin Al Baby were brought into the safe harbor by CSI after wandering around admiring the scenery for nearly an hour. After circle up, Dog Breath, Hugh Heifer, and Mass Storage Device run up from below Frederick St. Park, obviously having parked at the other end of the harbor as well. This means that a full 20% of our pack could not follow the simple directions to the Upper Harbor. **Sigh**…makes my heart swell with pride for my pack.

Next in my trusty notebook are the words “I love the hash. Hash is my Life”. Yeah, this is why I rush home to write out every trash as soon as I can lest I forget a single detail. Also, I need to relive every moment over and over because I have no other life. Yeah…clearly a guerilla scribing there!

Timmy is proudly serving up martinis out of his trunk during prelube until he spills the whole concoction in his car. Hope he doesn’t get pulled over. Meanwhile, Banana is reliving the tales of the kissing bandit, which is apparently Choka’s Mr. Hyde after too many drinks. We circle up and Just Brian is awarded the hash shit (now proudly wearing an SC Police Star from 3-Times a Lady) for hashing with us 5 times over 8 years. The pack ambles up Arana Gulch, and Nips and I stay back to gossip, drain the trough, and drive up to beer check. Beer check is in the field behind Simkins Swin Center, where we have a beautiful sunset view, loads of hungry mosquitoes the size of pterodactyls, and the usual incredible spread put on by Puff.

At beer check we are entertained by a story by snatch about nearly being busted by a CHP while laying trail. It seems she was running down Seabright and noticed a cop slowing down and watching her as she ran and threw down flour. She sees him do a u-turn, and drive back toward her. What is her response? Well, naturally, she drops the flour bag, lifts up her shirt (under the guise of removing her sweatshirt), and shakes her hair as if she is Bo Derek emerging from the surf. He drove on. Good thing he didn’t choose to go behind Simkins Swim Center to relieve himself in private after that!

Religion is held above the Lower Harbor slightly up the trail into Arana Gulch. Down downs:

1. Beer fairy: Aunt Cummima

2. Hash Shit: Just Brian, and for his naming as well (finally, after 8 years). Fodder: his first hash was when Banana had the bar, he has taken so long to complete 5 hashes because he is a typical Santa Cruzan (aka SLACKER!), favorite barn animal is a sheep, first job was shoveling horse shit, he works in high tech, he was VP of marketing for a company that sells porn apps for cell phones. Thoughts: My Way, Slack It and Whack It,  iPorn, Porn Pod…. It’s tabled for the moment.

3. False Starters: O’Holy Nuts, Hugh Heifer, MSD, Hangs Loose, and CSI (although he retrieved some of them and herded them back to start).

4. Analversary: Banana for 69 harings. He says it makes him feel sexy. We all need to hare – STEP UP FOLKS!!!

5. Tiny Whiney Bitch for rolling up in his tiny car. Then Icy Jackass appears, so she is called up for being VERY late. At this moment, one of the funniest events of the evening occurs: Brix, Icy’s giant German Shepard, literally leaps out of her control at the sight of Puff and bounds to him knocking him over for treats. Maybe that’ll teach Puff to store doggie biscuits with his real biscuits.

6. Got Milk?! and just Zaga for having a private party. They were talking about smoking cocks. Try lube. Hangs Loose also joins this party because he finally found religion. We don’t want to know what he was doing between beer check and this point…

7. Dog owners (we had many canines this evening): Nips, Hangs, Virgin Al, Icy, Hoggie, and BBM.

8. Just Brian for 8 years of hashing and just getting named. The tabled name is revisited, and it is decided that the iPod was invented for his former company’s app. Therefore, he becomes PornPod.

8. And the Hares: snatch.cum and Puff. The story of snatch’s flashing a CHP is relived again. I think the boys just like the image.

9. Virgin Al Baby. Hangs Loose made him cum (ewww, and with his dog too). He shows his chest, and we decide that is OK, although Got Milk?! is still sitting in the dirt waiting for more.

10. Just Zaga for wearing new shoes. She insists that they are not, so she gets to drink out of both. Good times.

And that concludes hash #461. May the hash get a piece!

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The pack gathers at the Creepy Place, one of the top 5 regular joints for SCH3 to meet. Mismanagement met up before the hash, so we already had a couple of beers and a little snack in us when the parade began. In trickled the pack in their most flamboyant attire. Memorable moments / outfits were Cumz in her fuzzy, pink, lighted headpiece, Icy Jackass with an entire lamp shaped like a Sex in the City purse, Broken Shaft looking like a pineapple, Pussy Galore emulating a bag lady (although any single item she was wearing is undoubtedly worth more than the entire contents of your average bag lady’s cart), and last but certainly not least, Broke Bench Mountain in his entire Tiki bar get-up. Now, this year there were too many to go on about, so please don’t feel bad if you weren’t singled out. I think that the entire SCH3 deserves a round of applause for collectively going over the top this year. Many lights and many more accents – kudos to all!!

That much being said, I still do not have the official list of attendees for that night, so I’ll only say that we welcomed the return of Last Call Norm, Pearl Necklace, and Johnny Cockring. The rest of the pack were somewhat regulars, and while I remember some of you (Hoggie, Rod Lover, and of course Puff), I cannot begin to recall the whole pack from memory.

The hares, Banana Basher and Vince Lamp-BlowMe sneak out the front door and leave us to continue dimming our bulbs with alcohol. Shortly after that, I am chatting out front with Just Wendy (for her last moments as mortal Wendy), and she notes that a cop is driving by ogling us. She states “Wow, we haven’t even started and we’re getting harassed!” Sure enough the black and white flips a U-turn and pulls up right in front. Turns out that it’s Three Times a Lady, and hashers begin pouring out to say hi and ask about My Fucking Precious (who we all miss very much!). I had to giggle at this scene – one of Santa Cruz’s finest in his cruiser with a pack of wackos wearing lampshades on their heads trying to belly up to the car to chat. Crazy. Perfect.

We circle up and do introductions, Pearl and Norm are awarded the hash shit (although only Pearl actually wore it), and we were off down Soquel toward downtown. A quick and sneaky (and cruel) pass through the alley behind Double Oh Seven (regular on on on hang out), and we were back on Soquel. We turn up Ocean and then romped tantalizingly close to the Jury Room (yet another SCH3 fave), but to no avail for the thirsty hounds. Drenched with sweat and drooling for beer, we then went up Water evilly close to the Rush Inn (another top 5 dive-bar for SCH3), but we turned up Front and meandered along the levee. Eventually, we end up back at Norm and Pearl’s historic casa for beer check.

Apparently, we almost snared the hares, but this was all missed by the beer-blinded pack. Lightbulbs on our heads or not, we are apparently truly half minds. As mentioned above, the pack was heading down Soquel towards downtown to circle publicly and with much jeering back toward Norm and Pearl’s abode, also on Soquel. This was evidently not very well thought out by our experienced hares, and the pack was moving DOWN Soquel while the hares were returning UP Soquel, causing Banana to dive into bushes and Vince to pose as a real lamp shopper at the lamp store to avoid being spotted. Now, missing Vince in front of the lamp store, OK, but how in the heck did we miss Banana with a lampshade on his head diving into the bushes????? Jeesh.

After beer check, the pack meanders back up to Rod Lover’s house for religion, which is kinda behind 007. Here I’ve gotta rant. Rod apparently left all of his porn paraphernalia out including that swing apparatus that I’ve heard rumor of, and he would not let any of us into his house to use his bathroom. This being a _long_ trail for SCH3 (3.6 mi!!), we all had to wee like racehorses (at least those that didn’t get tempted into many of the bars that we were so closely led by). So, we had to visit the restroom at the 007, which by now is a bit infamous for SCH3, but that’s another story…..

Down-downs were as follows (and I’m adopting Banana’s style here):

1. Virgin Snaggletooth. He is even known as that in Boulder Creek, and I don’t need to say more. He told some horrible racist joke that was unanimously decided to be better than the other options.

2. The tiki team, Broke Bench Mtn, Broken Shaft, and Cumz out My Nose for looking like an entire tiki room San Francisco would be proud of.

3. Just Wendy for naming. Handy Flicker, Twisted Fister, something about being a twin were all tossed out…. Tabled.

4. Those with no lampshades: Tiny Whiney Bitch, Goldie Coxxx, O’ Holy Nuts, Just (?), and AccuPrick

5. Hugh Heifer for having her own party

6. Just Troy for his naming. Feul for the fire: he lost his virginity in grandma’s back yard, he’s been caught sniffing bicycle seats, he’s been busted banging his girlfriend at the time in the bathroom of a bookstore. Thoughts (not many): Grandma’s Glory Hole, Depends…. Also tabled.

7. HashShit wearers pearl Necklace and Last Call Norm

8. Goldie Coxxx for her birthday

9.  Finger Nips who went to SLOH3 and apparently got laid and met another Flipper. Did she get laid by Flipper? I think I’ve seen something on the internet about that…..

10. Johnny Cockring and Just (?), I’m not sure why.

Finally back to the namings. Due to the fog lifting off our brains for a moment and the popular votes, Just Troy is now known and GammyGazm and Just Wendy is now known as ZipHerLips. Amen. May the hash get a piece!!!

ON ON ON, where the heck else but Double Oh Seven!!! We continued to have fun until the wee hours while Jeff poured us yummy spirits. And we all made it home safely! Cheers!

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A plague has swept the hash, leaving the pack hareless except for Banana, who has risen, zombie-like from his own deathbed to limp along the levees and darkest places of the Beach Flats and lower Ocean in an attempt to lure the pack to an early grave.

Reduced from half-minds to yet weaker quarter-minds, the skeletal pack assembles at what was once a 50’s diner, then some trendy vegetarian restaurant and is currently the Surfrider Café next to what used to be Cymbaline Records and that Chinese Buffet this scribe wants so dearly to experience and is unable to convince anyone else that this is a good idea.  Not that the scribe is well known for her superior judgment (after all, she did volunteer to scribe) but hey, why not take a chance on a Chinese Buffet with a number stuck in the middle of it’s name? The kind bartenders at the Surfrider fed those hounds who were well enough to eat delicious little sausage bits and beer and also had the good taste to serve up some Beach Boy’s very appropriate Sloop John B.

Those who partook: Banana, Puff, Norm, Pearl, Rod Lover, the mighty Cum Lord, Pussy Galore, Just Derrick, Just Alana,Vince Lamblowme, Ralph-U-Crammed-in, Tiny Whiney, Mass Storage Device, Hugh Heifer, Fingernips, dBased & Just Annabel, Suck Cockran, Goat Blower, Serial Box, Sheeprocker, and me, Snatchy-scribe.

Bravely into the night, up to the levee we went in every direction (north & south). At the Laurel Street Bridge only Tiny Whiney and Rod Lover were brave enough to go under (they’ve been waiting for this moment together in the dark night), Mass Storage Device chose to cross over and come nearly face to face with the hare! Rightly frightened by Banana’s impressive silhouette in a neighborhood not know for friendliness, she wisely hurried back with tail between her legs to rejoin the pack. Yes, the misery and terror could have ended right here, friends, but for the cowardice and likely good judgment of a single harriette.

The general tone of confusion and lack of flashlights made it tough to find what little flour there was but Vince has a keen sniffer for hare and led us to ascend a staircase to Beach Hill where Serial and Hugh were left chasing their tails as the path, with flour on both sides, briefly split in two.

Up over the dark avenues of Beach Hill we wandered, cheered on and mislead by spectators and eventually into the bowels of the Flats. This scribe was the subject of more than a few sideways glances as she took notes, looking more like a hooker keeping her books than anything else, and trying to catch up with her johns as they ran from her.

While Puff fended off teens looking for a psychedelic rush, Cum Lord stumbled over that other bridge and down into lower Ocean. At least the hare had the decency to lead us onto the nicest of all possible streets in the area, past the lovely smells of the Royal Taj and Hindquarter eateries. Because the Hindquarter has a strict no dogs allowed policy, we went around the corner into the back parking lot and demanded beer. We don’t need no steaks and vino; just Natural Lite and cheetos.

We soon learned that on his first flour drop, Banana was stopped by the cops

Through the hazards of San Lorenzo Park we journeyed, looking much like the other locals stumbling around, though sans paper bags. Up to the favorite downtown perch of the hash, the four story garage, we went in search of yet more beer. Our faith in booze was rewarded, as the substitute RA, Pearl Necklace, presided over “lab samples” from the kitchen of Pussy Galore, aka jello shots! I recommend the peach. And black cherry. And the peach some more. But wait, that black cherry…

Called up:

Rod Lover, for barking, yes, barking at the scribe. Some dogs bark just to hear their own voices.

Sheeprocker and Cheerio’s human (Just Derrick) were the next victims as Pussy claimed seeing Sheeprocker fucking a sheep in the bushes…which may have turned out to be a horny goat. Or perhaps a barking dog.

Pussy’s down down was the result of bringing jello shots instead of a spare liver in her lab samples cooler.

Rod visited the RA once again, this time for having the biggest flashlight on trail. Then again, some dogs bark just to draw more attention to themselves.

Mass Storage Device and Fingernips took their turns for twittering all trail long about cute boys. Indeed, perhaps barking pays off!

MSD returned to the alter for standing blindly in front of the hare and running the other way, an action she continued to defend. She probably could have used a barking dog by her side. That big flashlight may have come in handy too.

Goatie then entertained the pack by rimming a jello shot in a most lavacious manner…and taking it all in one gulp.

As the temperature continued to drop and the pack began swaying from the effects of Goatie’s display and the powerful shots, the RA declared in a Barry White voice honed from weeks of illness…May the Hash go in peace.

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