Happy Valentine's Day one and all. I guarantee though that you will NOT be happy when this trail of terror has been terminated. Tonight, We're On The Highway To Hell, courtesy of Serial Box.

Greetings kennelmates,

       It's Valentine's Day and Sarah has forbade Ralph Crammed-In from leaving the house to hash with us tonight. This rare event has given Puff the chance to fire up his scribing machine again. You've listened to Ralph since November and he does a very good job for you. However, I think it's  time you heard the lies behind the truth. 

       We've taken our traveling show on the road tonight and are assembling our kennel within the dark confines of Bocci's Cellar on Encinal Street near Harvey West Park. When I slithered in, hashers were perched on bar stools like a row of crows. Owner Roger appears to be less than overjoyed, shall we term it, to see we've come back here again to break his glasses, steal the silverware and run off his clientele. Be that as it may, my main concern is tonight's hare, Serial Box. Most of you will remember the last time she attempted to lay a trail though here. It was pathetic. She was snared by Norm. She was universally condemned as having just laid the worst trail we'd hashed since the LAST trail she laid.There are many other areas of Santa Cruz, why does she consistently beat the dead horse known as Harvey West Park?

       At least we can enjoy prelube and here's the list of hashers doing so: My Fucking Precious, Pressed Cling Peaches (PCP) , Banana Basher, Hogazm, Goat Blower, Cum Lord, Hairy Potter, Rod Lover, Cervix Denied, Pearl Necklace, Cunts,Sluts & Incest (CSI), Dr. Nappy-Headed 'Ho, Pussy Sipper, Pussy Galore, Finger Nips, Just Sheba, Just Tammi, RA Jordass (For Men), GM Last Call Norm, HC TIMMY! and acting Scribe Puff the Magic Drag Queen.

        There were some interesting conversations going on prior to Instructions of Trail. Finger Nips gave the Doctor a toy, supposedly female, that was able to pee while standing up. I'm sorry, but I missed the point of this present, by the end of the hash the Doctor is frequently unable to pee even while sitting down. TIMMY! was happy to announce he has been moved to another teaching position and no longer teaches the most severely retarded kids. The exact quote was "No more head-bangers and ambulances, just retards now!" I assume the powers that be finally recognized that having TIMMY! teach the dullest-minded people was like having the blind leading the blind.

       And now for the evening's main event. Allow me to introduce Serial Box, whom I believe I should mention was recently expelled from the Piss 'n Booths College of Trail Construction as being untrainable. 

       As we seem to be getting the evil eye from Roger, Serial Box has asked for a hash hush to deliver her (current) version of Instructions of Trail. They were pretty much ignored. The only thing that piqued my interest was when she said "My father did it in 45 minutes last night." That presented a number of provocative interpretations. One, her father pre-laid this trail Wednesday night while Serial Box had her foot caught in the bar rail at Bocci's. Two, her father engaged in sexual activity Wednesday night while Serial Box pre-laid trail. Three, and most likely, Serial Box was again saying something that had no bearing whatsoever on tonight's trail because she forgot to take her medication this evening. She then leaves. No one notices.

        Fifteen minutes later, or there abouts, Last Call Norm notices her absence and circles the pack up for hash 398 in front of Bocci's. There was a check here. I've always considered that the rudest of beginnings. Beginning with a check is, at best, an insult and at worst shows a complete lack of imagination. After some sniffing, trail is discovered on Encinal heading towards River Street. Marker turned the troops on-right down an alley just prior to River we used last time Serial Box tried laying trail for us. Once to Fern Street, trail turned on-left to River Street and then on-right to the intersection with Highway 1. No one would ever make the pack run beside the highway so everyone crossed at the crosswalk to the other side. There was a mark or two on River Street but then things began to deteroriate. Hounds were sniffing every which-way for trail. Eventually it was discovered, almost completely by accident, across River Street and head BACK towards Highway 1. Seems as Serial Box had discovered a homeless-only trail beside the highway to a hole in the fence (see Hash Flash) that took the tribe to the river levee trail. 

       Soon, on-on was sounded heading down the levee towards town. Fast forward and find yourself at the intersection with Water Street. Marker turned us on-right and to a check at River Street. Jordass sniffed out trail continuing on Water Street but false trail markings off trail on Bulkhead Street confused an already confused herd. Soon, the gang returned to the check at River Street and soon crossed over finding marking on River headed towards Soquel Avenue. Soon after that...now where was I? Oh yeah, following marker along River and soon I was onto Stupor Bowl trail. Luckily, on-on was soon given on the Water Street bridge headed towards Ocean Street. Apparently, Serial Box had cleverly hidden a check under some trees beside the bridge. Trail was only slightly more difficult to find than the friggin' check was. 

      Okay, fast forward to Ocean Street. Somewhere, only the hare knows where, trail crossed Water and came to Colma Street. Colma is a dead end street ending at....the county jail. Needless to say, one and all turned tail from there and went back to Ocean and headed on-left. This turned out to be (yet another) dreary stretch of street so let's fast forward to the next check neat the intersection of Highway 17, Highway 1 and Felker Street. Unbelievably, trail made the on-left staying on Ocean Street and headed towards the Odd Fellows Cemetary. (See Hash Flash) TIMMY!, being well acquainted with retards as he is, made the on-left onto the entrance ramp to Highway 1 northbound. Before you start mumbling, "No friggin' way, Puff", get a load of this; trail DID get on Highway 1 and proceed north onto the bridge crossing over the San Lorenzo River! There is graphic photographic proof of this crime against nature in the Hash Flash. Hairy Potter was almost sucked off the bridge by a passing bus. It's an awakening, even beneficial, experience to be occasionally reminded of one's mortality. It's far more unsettling to be faced with your imminent death. Now you know from whence the title of this week's Trash originates: We're On The Highway To Hell.

       Once across the bridge, trail turned on-right onto River Street, up to Encinal and on-left and CROSSED OVER ITSELF at the entrance to Bocci's. It continued along Encinal with marker on the white line down the center of the road (obvious car-hashing),turned into a parking lot, crossed a stream that shouldn'e even be there and into a parking lot of a business facing Dubois Street. There we found the hare and the Doctor slurping away on Beer Check beer. We later came to find out even the beer was old, having been the beer from Stupor Bowl Beer Check, the Beer Check no one found. The hood of Serial Box's dad's Lincoln made a huge picnic table and was covered with stale chips. Just another in a long line of insults against us tonight in my opinion. After giving up on Beer Check, the pack proceeded to the end of Pioneer Street as we have so many times in the past.

       The altar assembled, RA Jordass lit into the pack. His first item of business was to appoint the evening's Beer Fairy. Cum Lord drew the short straw this week and donned tiara and, with wand in hand, began his tenure.

       Jordass presented Finger Nips with a present...of sorts. It was plugin memory stick in the shape of, well, in the shape of a humping dog. Gives a whole new meaning to the term "plug & play", doesn't it?

       Jordass, just to show the power hasn't completely consumed him (yet), awarded himself a down-down for locking his keys in his car at last week's on-on-on.

       Hogazm was called to the altar and made fun of because back at Bocci's she told Jordass she was envious of her friends that had larger breasts than she does. I wonder if that includes Banana Basher?

       TIMMY! was called up for being one of the hashers to hash tonight without his spouse. Now who's the REAL retard?

       Jordass was then awarded a zicky-zacky down-down for mistaking PCP for Pussy Sipper.

       Once Pussy Sipper was called to the altar, he was awarded a down-down for hashing on Valentine's without his spouse as well. This one was, however, quite sad. Seems as his wife forgot it was Valentine's Day. There's a second hasher that will "go without" tonight I fear.

       Banana Basher was next on the hit parade. Seems as wife Bailas Con Burros decided, as her present to her (current) husband, she would allow him to hash on Valentine's. I can almost guarantee you that five minutes after HIS car left the driveway tonight, HER car left heading in the opposite direction. 

       Sheba was called up. Apparently, she ORDERED her husband to let her hash. She said that made her feel somewhat better because though her husband got her flowers, her boyfriend did not. Sheba, your husband doesn't read the Trash, does he?

       Sheba left her hat on during the above down-down but as she is not a full-fledged hasher, the RA should have told her of this tradition. Jordass did the punitive down-down.

        My Fucking Precious was awarded a back sliders down-down and coerced into telling the story of her original naming and subsequent renaming. She also mentioned her (current) husband, Three Times A Lady, recently instituted Santa Cruz's first Transient Abatement Program: he runs them over with his car. Effective, well, hell yes! However, I am not sure that's considered politically correct around here.

       Cum Lord was awarded a down-down as the best dressed Valentine. Strange, (current) wife Pussy Galore said she appreciated him the most when he was UNdressed. Jordass awarded him a bottle of (cheap, rot-gut) liquor.

        As was fitting, the hare was seated bare-arsed on a bag of ice now. Banana revealed a story concerning her and Silicon Valley hasher No Film as the reason for her excommunication from SV H3. There was also a tidbit about her hashing with real dogs down in San Diego and the fact she spent her first AA H3 hash sitting at Bocci's swilling alcohol while REAL hashers did trail. When polled for their verdict on trail, the response of the pack was underwhelming. It was, however, at least unanimous. This kept her on the ice about fifteen minutes which was enough time to freeze even her nether region.

       She remained on the ice for the evening's final down-down. Jordass was awarded a down-down for quoting the author Judy Bloom. Not familiar with her? Keep it that way unless you are a pre-pubescent female or a TIMMY! retard. It was so disgusting that Cum Lord gave Jordass the Beer Fairy's tiara and returned to his place in circle. 

       On-on-on was back at Bocci's. Luckily for us, by now owner Roger was profoundly intoxicated and therefore unable to keep us out. As I left Bocci's trying to remember where I abandoned my car, I passed Jordass and Serial Box sitting outside away from everyone at a darkened table with their heads so close together they looked like Siamese twins. I swear I heard Jordass whisper, "You make me smile, please stay for a while." More Judy Bloom, Jordass?

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 that the Author and the Editor, at Santa Cruz, Ca., or elsewhere if need be, on this, the twenty-fourth day of February in the year of our Hash two-thousand eight. 

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