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Written by Puff MDQ
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Saturday, 29 March 2008 |
Howdy Hashers, Yes, it’s Puff the Magic Drag Queen here to assault you with the tale of the harrowing horror that hit the herd Thursday the thirteenth. Ralph, your usual purveyor of this paltry parable, was one of the evening’s co-hares and therefore barred from Scribing his own trail. His excuse for flaking out once last month was (soon-to-be fiance) Just Sara forbade him from hashing on Valentine’s night. Oh, you hadn’t heard about the impending announcement? Ask TIMMY! why such has not become common knowledge. His response will be, “I’m still trying to find some friggin’ way to prevent it!” Be that as it may, I again find myself slave to the keyboard rather than the beer stool this Saturday afternoon. (And people wonder why I retired from Scribing) Let’s lay the foundation for this week’s chapter in the seemingly never-ending trail tales of terror Surf City is constantly subjected to. No doubt many of you have heard this simplistic definition of success: Success is doing the right thing the right way at the right time. Allow me to offer this antithesis to that axiom. Failure: A trail laid by CSI and Ralph. There. That should define the parameters of Hash four-oh-two for even the dumbest of you out there in reader land. Moving right along though... Point A was the collection of cottages where CSI passes out on a regular basis on Portola Drive across from the closest thing Santa Cruz has to a radio station. I cannot give you the exact address because CSI said he’d kick my ass if I did. While lacking a view of Monterey Bay, one can easily see, as well as regretfully smell, the swamp that surrounds the radio station transmitter towers. Of course I guess if you’re blind drunk when you get home as CSI usually is, the odor is not an issue. Gloriously, the evening sun shone down upon our little half-mind filled heads for the first time this year. Yes, daylight saving time has arrived. On the down side, I can now see the bizarre and downright hideous attire many of my kennelmates have chosen to wear. (See Hash Flash) I put my blinders on and walked from group to group in an effort to find a conversation worth my valuable time. My efforts went unrewarded. While there were many conversations transpiring, it some became obvious to me that the vast majority of them were either tortuously boring or were the product of a demented or moronic mind. What follows are those that I found the least offensive. Tater Tits was bragging about going to the car races Friday night. Where, you may inquire? Possibly some huge NASCAR event or the Long Beach Grand Prix? Well, not QUITE. More like the dirt Watsonville Speedway. I drive faster on Highway 17 than one could ever aspire to on the muddy, rut-filled Watsonville Waddle. Pressed Cling Peaches, your hare on the twenty-seventh, was asking Dr. Nappy-Headed ‘Ho, one of our two resident gimps, whether she would be available to man the Beer Check on his trail. I guess he figures she’s not good for anything else right now. I wonder if he expects her to say, “Beer, Long Island Iced Tea...or me?” I see Lizzardo is making another appearance. You may remember him as the joker that drove from Philadelphia for our Stupor Bowl festivities. Anyway, he’s moved considerably closer. He only drives down from Menlo Park now. I guess we should take heart in that he seems to be getting a LITTLE smarter at least. Here’s Vince Lamblowme’s clique, let’s worm our way into the circle. Vince is telling joke punch lines and asking people if they know the joke it ended. He was not receiving many nods in the affirmative. Some of them sounded like the pathetic excuses he gives Mrs. Lamblowme when he arrives home late and intoxicated from a hash. Banana Basher, notorious for having the ability to talk the ear off a stalk of corn, was saying (bragging?) how he has taken Monday, St. Patrick’s Day, off work which will allow him to begin drinking when the bars open. I do not understand why this is so different from his usual regime. He felt this so important, so critical to everyone’s happiness tonight, he was STILL talking about it during Religion. We’ll save that tirade of his for later though. I saved the worst for last. Grab your bottle with both hands for this one. Overheard Serial Box whispering to Daddy War Bucks: “So, have you ever dated anyone in the Hash?? Okay, after mopping the sweat from your brow, I hope you’re ready for CSI and Ralph’s version of Instructions of Trail. As CSI droned on, I looked around to gauge my kennel mates take on all this. Here’s what I saw: Banana looking for the Beer Trough, Hogazm shoving more stuffing into her bra, Serial Box touching-up her makeup and Pearl and Norm playing rock-paper-scissors. IoT was not an especially auspicious or inspiring beginning for trail, will someone please wake me when it’s over? Fifteen minutes or thereabouts having wasted away, GM Last Call Norm noticed hashers had pretty much pre-assembled themselves in the rough approximation of a circle. She likes it when we make her job easy for her. Too bad our hare-pair failed to conform to standard Surf City practices. Anyway, here’s the poor bastards that showed up for hash four-oh-two: Vince Lamblowme, Serial Box, Banana Basher, Pressed Cling Peaches, Dr. Nappy-Headed ‘Ho, Tater Tits, Pearl Necklace, Hogazm Snatch.Cum, Rod Lover, Chokacola, Swiss Army Cock, Lizzardo, Loose Stool, Jizz Bollah, Burning Bush, Mother’s Little Felcher, dBASED, Hot Wheels, Little Spit, acting RA Hairy Potter, HC TIMMY!, GM Last Call Norm and acting Scribe Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Okay, enough pussy-footing around, we’re on-out Surf City. Down CSI’s driveway to Portola Drive where a hare arrow on-lefts us to the evening’s first check at the intersection with Corcoran Avenue. TIMMY! soon sounds on-on on-left and on-up Corcoran. The next check was at the intersection with Felt Street. On-on was sounded on-left onto Felt and eventually brought us to the next check at Seventeenth Avenue. A couple of losers on-righted towards the railroad tracks (Please, no!) while another group crossed 17th into the parking lot for Simpson’s Family Swim Center. Jizz Bollah had turned his snout on-left onto 17th and soon gave the on-on. The herd took off in pursuit. The next check was at Merrill Street. An on-right onto Merrill proved the correct guess here. Merrill is a long and straight, not to mention boring, asphalt piece of real estate. Let’s fast forward past the on-left at the end of Merrill onto Fourteenth Avenue to the next check at 14th and East Cliff Drive. No one was stupid enough to believe an on-right would be the hare-pair’s choice. Most wanted to go directly across East Cliff to get a glimpse of Monterey Bay. No luck though, on-on was sounded on-left onto East Cliff and then across East Cliff and onto Johan’s Beach Drive. Strangely enough, Johan’s Beach Drive does NOT deposit one at Johan’s Beach but rather spits you out onto Sunny Cove. So, we finally did get to see the bay but we had to go onto a beach that has a sign saying, Warning, Big Rocks Underwater. Now while that may come as an Epiphany to some people around here, anyone that graduated high school is aware there are entire mountain ranges beneath the deep blue sea. And, needless to say, sand has to be at the top of Surf City’s list for LEAST desirable surface upon which to trot. Anyway, up the cliff onto Sunny Cove Drive, on-left up to East Cliff again and on-right onto East Cliff was the next area on the agenda. There’s not much to say for the next half-mile so let’s observe a few minutes of silence as we pass by the backside of the radio station across from CSI’s and wonder why the hell we ever left his driveway in the first place. I must admit though I was becoming fascinated by the reality that this trail was actually becoming worse than I’d previously feared it would. Next for us was an on-left onto 24th Avenue which through some misinterpretation of road-building curves on-right and ends at 26 Avenue. Here a check was solved and the pod plodded across 26th onto Fresno Street. When Fresno reaches Moran Lake Park, the tribe was sent to a check on the banks of the lake, and I use the word “lake” only because a sign calls it such, where we encountered a check. About this time I began to believe CSI and Ralph were two ex-girlfriends of mine that underwent a sex change operation so they could continue torturing me. Daddy War Bucks and Snatch-dot-Cum decided they were heading on-left no matter what the friggin’ check told them so, as it was getting dark and I did not want to be alone in this area, I followed them. We were in luck, trail actually did proceed this way. At least the stench from the “lake” was far more subdued than when Jizz Bollah and Aunt Cumima dragged our butts through here. When this path comes back to civilization, trail went on-left where weary mongrels were treated to our highly-favored Beer Near mark. In a clearing beside a waste treatment plant where two people were gunned down last year, we finally found our hare-pair nonchalantly slurping away on Beer Check beer. Eventually, we were joined by Banana Basher who (wisely) stopped off at the locals-only market on the corner of 26th and Fresno for a beer. As slow as he was walking I don’t see how he could possibly have been thirsty though. As long as we’re beside an open cesspool as well as a double-murder scene, I think it’s time I cleared up some confusion from last week. A number of you mental midgets came up to me this week and said I’d done a great job with Hash Flash last week. Well, if they’d looked closely, they would have noticed Puff had been appointed Beer Fairy. Even one as great as myself is unable to be beside the altar as Beer Fairy AND standing in circle as Hash Flash. You should have thanked Pearl Necklace for the Religion section of Hash Flash and Hogazm and Spooge Bath-No Pants for on-on-on Hash Flash at Acapulco. Sometimes I think there’s no hope whatsoever for many of you half-minds. Okay, Beer Check completed the herd migrated back to CSI’s for Religion. We then noticed duly elected RA Jordass (for men) had chosen not to join us tonight. Hairy Potter was drafted into being acting RA. Here’s the damage Hairy was able to do to the pack tonight. First on the chopping block was Loose Stool. He was awarded a down-down for being an (extreme) back-slider. His defense was his new job keeps him away. Nobody’s working at seven PM o a Thursday night. Chokacola and Serial Box were awarded down-downs for being non-runners. Funny thing, they thought they were entitled to as much beer as those that did trail though. Pearl and Burning Bush were brought up for wasting time by peeing on trail. However, as this is a normal biological function, Hogazm the rat was brought up to drink beside them. Hogazm was told to remain in position and was awarded a birthday down-down. Hairy attempted to announce next week’s trail, he’ll be co-haring with Rod Lover, (heaven help us) but as their trail was to be in the same area as this week’s, they’ve been thrown into a state of flux so he was awarded a down-down for incompetence. Banana made an announcement pertaining to his St. Patrick’s Day Pub Crawl. Noon at the Poet & Patriot for those of you not working. And now for the hares..... I so wish Hare Raiser Rod Lover had demonstrated testicular fortitude and replaced these hares with a pair of semi-trained chimpanzees. I’ve noticed CSI smiles a lot. After this trail though, I’ve been forced to the alarming conclusion the is the result of mental simplicity rather than any internal human goodness. As for Ralph, I’m afraid our illustrious Scribe has gone from hero to zero in less than an hour. Shitty Trail down-downs were (justifiably) awarded. As I plodded through the mud surrounding Moran Lake, I had so wished this hare-pair would be found: Dead In Live Oak. On-on-on was (again) at the Creepy Place. Quite late, a loud noise was heard from Soquel Avenue. This turned out to be a drunk driver crashing into what remains of Banana Basher’s truck. The drunkard’s car was severely damaged as will be his checking account once the Santa Cruz County judicial system is done with him. This episode should serve as a warning to all of we hashers. No, I’m not condemning your drinking habits, I’m just suggesting you don’t park on Soquel Avenue. Next week’s attempt at haring will be made by Hairy Potter and, for his Virgin haring, Rod Lover. Let’s see if he makes better hare than hare raiser. The following week will be PCP and Puff......get your body armor ready. Submitted with all respect due, Puff the Magic Drag Queen Surf City H3 Acting Scribe By Special Appointment of His Royal Majesty “G”, this Hash Trash has been compiled and printed by permission of no one other than the Author and the Editor at Santa Cruz, Ca., or elsewhere if need be, on this, the twenty-second day of March in the year of our Hash Two-thousand-eight.  Comments (1) |  Add as favorites (90) |  Quote this article on your site | Views: 565
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Written by Ralph U. Crammed-in
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Tuesday, 11 March 2008 |
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Here we are again, starting our 4th Century. We are meeting up on the pretentious non-hash-loving West-Side just a mere block from Lighthouse Point. Though the crowd was initially small (and lacking beer I might add) eventually the crowd grew to include: Panty Free, LC Norm, Pearl Necklace, Serial Box, Puff, Jizz Bollah, Timmy!!!, CSI, Hairy Potter, Swiss Army Cock, Just Tammi, Banana, ML Bony, Sausage Slam, Mother Lil Feltcher, Rod Lover, Just Kelly, Just Sheba, Jordass, Spooge Bath, Mrs G, Pixie, and your grouchy scribe Ralph. Our hares TBO and Hogazm chose the start of the run in front of Santa Cruz’s own Gateway school. Now I happen to live with someone who works at the school and know for a fact that those particular neighbors whine constantly about the school, much less our group of beered-up hooligans. What was worse was the vacationing Finger Nips elected CSI to be beer meister. Sadly she neglected to remind him that the BM is supposed to be there to appease Banana at least 30 minutes prior. Oh well all learn these lessons one must learn in the Hash. I wish I had an account of which streets the poor excuse for a trail but we went down too many streets and turned too many times to account for the exact path we took. All I really recall is a long run down West Cliff, a turn up another street, through the south end of one of the circle maze or maybe it was up Bethany Curve first? Who cares. The Hares left a Sake Check for the group. I think the FRBs finished it as the DFLs had probably given up on trail. Throughout trail though were the usual marking errors that hares make. Lack of checks, left hare-arrows but no rights, trail taking sudden turns, etc. Eventually we miraculously found the Beer Check a mere block from where we started in Lighthouse Field directly opposite Laguna St. The best thing the Hares did though was give us a good location where we could do religion with reduced risk of Police interruption. As for religion we had some important business to take care of. 3 people were awaiting their names. However first: Beer Fairy. Since we needed to be as efficient as possible we need an efficient person to pour beer. Puff was chosen for the job. Before she left early we needed to get the naming of Just Kelly done. Kelly has the rare trait of having attending 7 hashes without being named…and that’s just with us. She had allegedly attended hashes elsewhere as well and really needed a name. As usual names were tossed about in regards to her habit of leaving early thusly avoiding her inevitable naming. Jordass however had a good suggestion. A place where he and friend used to buy lighters was known as the Come and Go. It stuck. Cum & Go is born. Speaking of naming, Jizz Bollah is called to the alter. Jizz shaved his beard off for some reason and Jordass is concerned because he is looking less and less like a terrorist and less deserving of his name. He is punished for that action. Next we have Just Sheba. Now in trying to figure out her name we find out more about how she found the Hash. Banana tells us of an Email she sent him essentially admitting she’s crazy. She is also a girl who is not only married but also has a boyfriend. Bony suggests “Open Door Policy”…nothing sticks so it is left to simmer. Fifth up is C.S.I and Timmy! Spooge ratted them out as when he asked “Are You” they simply replied NO and continued talking. I’ll leave the rest out. Next is our 3rd naming of the night Just Tammi. She claims it was only her 4th Hash and that one day she was only at the bar one night. It does not matter, whatever the count is, that’s the hash law. As Jordass had met her through some dating/sex website her logical name then became Snach.cum. Back up is Sheba. There is talk of her adventures at Burning Man when the suggestion for Burning Bush is dropped and the crowd liked it. To celebrate her new name she drops trou and shows us the face of GOD. Finally the Hares. This was the week Hoggy was celebrating the end of life AKA as her 30th BDay. Instead of a beer she is drinking a can of Ensure. We all share our thoughts on trail and this hash is over… Next week, C.S.I accompanied by myself. Comments (2) | Add as favorites (80) | Quote this article on your site | Views: 719 |
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Written by Ralph U. Crammed-in
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Wednesday, 05 March 2008 |
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I don’t know how we made it. Was it quality mismanagement? Was it a police conspiracy? Was it the BEER??? However we did its here, #400. Our devious hares for the evening are Finger Nips, PCP, Hairy Potter, and Daddy War Bucks. The group of ravenous drunks, cripples, and children who followed: Puff MDQ, My Fucking Precious, Capt Jack Swallows, Cum Lord, Pussy Galore, Got Wood, Timmy!, Mrs. Groper, Jordass, Goat Blower, Beaver Whacker, Serial Box, Banana Basher, Vince Lamblowme, Panty Free, Arabian Goggler, Butt Balls, Apple Bobber (brief appearance), Pixilated Obscenity, Dr. Nappy, Neighborhood Watch, Stupid Pussy, Cockiss, Butt Barrier, Ram Pam, Hogazm, Hugh Heifer, Cumz Out My Nose, Jack-off On the Pot, Suck Cockran, Jizz Bollah, My Lil Bony, Rod Lover, Piss N Booth, Pussy Sipper, Lil Anal Annie, Just Sheba, Little Shit, Choka Cola, dBased, Hot Wheels, Little Spit, Rusty Trombone, Too Drunk Too Fuck, Dog Breath, Lizardo, Just Kyle, One Eyed Scrotum, Virgin Bruce, Virgin Sara, Cum Factory. Oh and me Ralph. After pre-packing the Crepe Place prior to the load-in of a band who must have thought they had quite an early turn-out we left to find trail across the street and through the mid-town neighborhood I call home. After crossing Morrissey and twisting and turning through the eastern parts of mid-town we end up on Roxas St and in a church parking lot for Jello Shots. Churches and graveyards being the last places I feel like spending any extended time in, myself and a few FRBs take off. We find trail heading down Park Way and of course, down that lovely path that boarders the former Loma Prieta Bad Kids School, now home to a private institution. Following trail down a check is laid down to the entrance to the Harbor High Baseball field. I send an over-the-hiller down and I continue down La Fonda towards Soquel. Down the walking trail, across the street and back towards La Fonda only to find Beer Near and no refreshments. But why? Turns out the Cripple Van is also the mobile beer-check wagon for this hash. In the future we are to wait until everyone shows up then the Hares would piss off for their 15 minute head start. Anyhow, the wagon shows, and we are treated to the bloody-mary check. More mary than bloody but yummy. Leaving the leftover snacks for the local homeless we follow trail behind the office that hosted the last beer check we follow trail up Soquel. I don’t know if there was a check there but I started heading up Capitola Rd Ext. I observe and ignore a check at the graveyard and find another check. Don’t know the name of the road but knowing its where Puff went a few weeks ago I take it and find true-trail. Down through one of developments with a view of the harbor (I think) and continuing to follow the former Puff trail we head towards Soquel again up Capitola Rd. An early ending dBased stumbles on true trail (twice I think) and we follow Soquel to Fredrick St. The Hares lead trail around The Dominican Rehab where a security guard pops out and stares at me for a few minutes as I walk by. Turns out the 3rd beer check is on the other side of the complex. Shoulda known. What do we have? Apple Pies. A delightful combination of apple cider, rum, and for the not-watching-their-weights whipped cream. Someone at this point of scribing the lies of the evening yells at me “So how about that trail Ralphie?” yeah FUCK YOU. Thinking I should do my 4th Beer check at my house but a block away, I decide to follow trail and complete this important trail. Down Hanover and up Library Ln and still temptingly close to home trail squirms up Darwin St, left on Soquel and to the 4th beer-check behind Bills Wheels and the Kamikaze Check. After a few and deciding religion should occur here our BM and Hare Finger Nips has to shove off to the airport and to catch a flight to Perth. Unfortunately I have her shirts in safekeeping to I have to go fetch them behind the Crepe Place. I convince Cum Lord who to give me a ride back only to find the pack leaving in a hurry from the 4th check. Uh oh, that can usually only be for one reason. Yes, COPS. As we head for safer ground an inside “person” appears (identity withheld but they are related to a hasher) but they say hi to Banana and tell us they’ll put “them” off the trail. Banana apologizes and thanks them in advance and says we’ll be done shortly. Probably a blessing since the pack is still quite large. OK, back behind the Crepe Place and in the Harley Shop parking lot. Beer Fairy is the lovely Goat Blower as she the Birthday Girl. Second victim is Mrs Groper for her dubious outfit. Somewhere between that of a 711 employee or that of a person who just escaped prison. Stupid Pussy is third for [I think Stupid Puppy’s] wearing of a shirt that says “I’d rather be in Los Gatos”. Yuppie or hairdresser, you pick. Cockiss I think got a zicky-zacky for some reason. However throughout the night he was complaining about the trail marking so the question was does Ram Pam have a hare-arrow tattoos down to her pussy? Cum Factory got called up as she was sitting on top of a ramp behind Bills Wheels. So she visited the alter for doing the high-jump for beer. I must have been quite lit at this point because all I remember is Hugh Heifer doing the 200 meter tit flash. Captain Jack tried to run some kind of interference but it was too late. Last edition of the Special Olympics is Dr Nappy. “Fuck it All” she says and she shows us it all!!! Getting towards the end Choka gets her #25 run despite it being her ~80th beer OnOnOn. Virgin Bruce was called up next. He does some kind of bad joke while I was getting beer but returned to see Virgin Sara tease us with cleavage but only showing us on boob. Finally the hares. Banana is a stand in for Finger Nips as I’ve had to order 400 run patches since he is so close being the first to cross that milestone. If you are reading this and you haven’t picked up your shirt please do! I’m tired of that bag being in my car… Comments (1) | Add as favorites (73) | Quote this article on your site | Views: 648 |
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Written by Ralph U. Crammed-in
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Wednesday, 27 February 2008 |
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Its another lovely day in Santa Cruz. Actually its another day of rain in Santa Cruz. The only consolation is our Hares are Banana and My Lil Bony. What lies are behind this the precursor to our 400th? Pack tonight consists of Butt Balls, Annie, Puff, Finger Nips, Choka Cola, Piss N Booth, My Fucking Precious, Pussy Galore, Goat Blower, TBO, Neighborhood Watch, Serial Box, CSI, Rod Lover, Spooge Bath (who I am temporarily renaming Scrub Nuts), Pearl, Norm, Hairy Potter, Daddy War Bucks, Stupid Pussy (complete with Stupid Puppy), Jiz Bollah, Jordass, Dog Breath, Cervix Denied, and Virgin Stephan. Trail was originally going to be A-B but it was changed to an A-A due to weather. Dog Breath worrying so much about being assigned responsibility of the Hashit mistakes Daddy War Bucks’s jacket for said article. Choka was complaining about something involving Bony and her rack. Trail was actually quite decent for once. After a run-around the south end of Seabright Ave we end up going up Bronson and West towards Cayuga. Could it be at Banana’s? Probably not. We end up at the hashing corner from hell. The one that has about 7 streets leading in every-which direction? We end up heading towards Mountain View Ave. Would they set up a Beer Check in Finger Nips front yard? Perhaps…Trail did cross her front yard but didn’t stop. We continued across East Cliff and down towards the tracks only to find a back-check. Being the FRB again and being quite thirsty I thought it worth our best effort to head towards the beach. It was here in the parking lot above Seabright Beach we find the beer! We find out where the B was going to be had it not rained. We were going to be treated to a beach bon-fire complete with hotdogs! Oh well. Comically when Banana and Bony arrived for the BC they interrupted to guys having a serious discussion…or in other words they inadvertently caused the breakup of two men. Onto religion. First up our Beer Fairy is Spooge Bath (aka Scrub Nuts) because he claimed that he “never does anything stupid”. Next was Daddy War Bucks for either deciding to wear the Hashit or being an escaped convict. Third is Neighborhood Watch for backsliding. Rod Lover and Cervix denied are called up for sex on trail (lasing ~4.5 minutes). I get called up for my 75th run. ButtBalls is next to visit the RA for wearing stirrups, a fact that someone other than myself pointed out to the RA. Jizz Bollah visits the alter for not bringing his woman to the hash and needing Banana to open his beer. Meanwhile Piss and Choka are given a special down-down for holding a private party. The Virgin is given his introduction to the Hash. He claims this name is Stephen Jamison Whiskey or something like that. First was going to tell a bad joke…then going to do a song. Tried to tell a joke again and then gave up and showed the moon. Finally the Hares. So if you’ve been under a rock and didn’t know it, next run is our 400th run!!! Also, the Red Dress run is May 1st. If you order your shirt prior to April 10th contact PG to get your name printed on your shirt. Be first to comment this article | Add as favorites (96) | Quote this article on your site | Views: 917 |
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