Greetings Gobblers,

       Remember the good old days when the days were long and the trails were short? They're baaack, albeit for just one hash. Surf City's early winter break of sorts, our post-Thanksgiving Turkey Trot. I hope your Thanksgiving was most excellent because I can promise you the recounting of this trail will leave you somewhat queasy in the abdominal region. 

       The herd migrated to the Over the Hill Gang Saloon on Portola Drive in the Pleasure Point section of Santa Cruz. Sadly, and I (reluctantly) take the blame for this, the building was locked upon our 10:30 AM arrival time. Puff, notorious half-mind that I am, neglected to pay Beer Bar owner Mitzi a visit last weekend to tell her we'd be laying seige to her fine establishment prior to her normal 11 AM opening time. Norm and Banana decided we should move the two blocks down Portola to the real estate office where Religion is normally held and take our chances with the neighborhood outrage.

       Amazingly, no one said a word to us. Of course, I should probably mention the fact they were at work. Which, as long as I'm working off some animosity, is precisely why Puff has fired up his Scribing machine again. This year's duly elected Scribe, Ralph Crammed-In, is careening through the streets of Santa Cruz behind the wheel of a ten ton bus today. Sounds like the theme of a Stephen King book, doesn't it? Yes, after but only one week at the helm of Surf City's collective memory know as the Hash Trash, he required a week of rest. If this is any indication of how his year with quill-in-hand is going to be, he may actually surpass Hogazm's poorly-recorded and questionable memories of a year of Surf City hashes. Moving right along though.....

        Having decided no further hashers would join us, hare Last Call Norm incomptently-yet-quickly laid out the basic operating principles of a "pick-up hare" hash. Hares are allotted but a five minute head start and they are actually meant to be snared. The hound catching their little powder puff tail assumes the hares' duties after being told by hare number one the location of the preset Beer Check. This procedure continues until Beer Check has been reached. I hope you were able to follow my explanation. Personally, I've always believed this type of trail is utilized by hashers that are too friggin' lazy to lay a complete trail but their annual hare-count was too low to satisfy an aggressive Hare Raiser. This allows them to pawn off the majority of a real hares' responsibilities on the simple-minded idiot they allow to catch them. 

       Okay, Norm has outed herself and the last of the prelube beers are being drained. The pack has begun to weave themselves into a very loose definition of a circle. While we're attempting to do something any remedial kindergarden student could accomplish in less than thirty seconds, let me spit up the names of the mental midgets attending so you can make fun of them at the next hash: Pussy Galore, Finger Nips, Rod Lover, Hugh Heifer, Goat Blower, Jizz Bollah, Aunt Cumima, Serial Box, Cum Lord, Pixillated Obscenity, Bloodweiser, Little Shit, Just Jason, Virgin Michael, Virgin Jen, acting HC & On-Sec Banana Basher, acting RA & acting GM Pearl Necklace, and acting Scribe Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Most of you will not remember Little Shit. Consider yourself among the lucky ones. I do, however, wish to welcome her back to the Cruz after a stint in South Dakota. If you wish to know more of her history, although I strongly advise against making such an inquiry, ask her. I do not wish to be painted with the same brush as she soon will be.

         As we on-out down 37th Avenue, we can see nothing but a long, straight, boring stretch of asphalt reeling away in front of us. Therefore, let's fast forward to the first check at the intersection with Floral Drive. I'd love to know who named the streets in Pleasure Point. Check solved, the gang galloped on-right onto Floral and on-right again at the next street, 36th Avenue. Okay, we're finally, FINALLY, going to have some fun. Grab your monitor so it's doesn't go hopping away.

       The DFL's began yelling, Hare sighting! The pack reversed course back to Floral and on-righted in pursuit. At the next street, 35th Avenue, the troops turned on-left and spied hare Last Call Norm hopping down the bunny trail. Virgin Michael, not having been completely informed as to the purpose of this social club, shot by the other FRB's so quickly they were sent spinning like a pig on a rotisserie. Shame on you, Michael! Halfway down the block, (skip the rest of this sentence, Pearl) Last Call Norm was taken from behind by Virgin Michael. Norm immediately began spouting Instructions of Trail at Michael. As I watched him, I noticed he was staring at the flour bag like it was full of dead puppies. He had not an inkling of what Norm was talking about. Hugh Heifer, one that has never had any great compulsion to follow instructions, continued past the pack as we waited for Michael to receive his five minute lead time. As soon as Michael sees Hugh approaching, he tosses her the flour bag and says, Get me the HELL outa here! Something like that anyway. Hugh was then provided the five minute on-out.

        Hugh continued south on 35th to East Cliff Drive where she pointed the pod on-left. The action's pretty much done for this trail so just enjoy the view of the bay on-right. Hugh managed to stay ahead of the herd till Beer Check location at 41st Avenue County Park was reached. Actually, it's much more of a parking LOT than a park. Beer Check went well and was marred only by an obviously intoxicated Finger Nips dropping a beer bottle to break in a place where four to five-hundred bare-footed surfer pass through each day. Great play, Shakespeare.

       After checking Frenchy's Bookstore to see if Piss 'n Booths was there, the congregation returned to Point A for Religion to punish those that deserved it. And there were, needless to say, many more than Michael that would be spanked this day.

        Acting RA Pearl Necklace appointed Goat Blower Beer Fairy as his first official act today.

       The first order of business was to find the hasher that served the biggest turkey for Thanksgiving. At first, I did not understand this down-down. Obvious visual evidence was that Banana Basher will always stagger away with this award. Then I relaized the RA was referring to the turkey that was COOKED for Thanksgiving. This honor was eventually bestowed on Flea Cumima, sorry, I meant AUNT Cumima, not only the smallest hasher among us but also one of the smallest creatures on record. I truly wonder where that twenty-eight pound turkey went. At twenty-eight pounds, that must be well in excess of twenty-five percent of Aunties' weight.

       Next on Pearl's hitlist was Puff. Puff was awarded a congratulatory down-down for his successful ambassadorship to NorthSouth Intercourse in Sant-O-Barbara last weekend.

       The afore-mentioned Little Shit was next up and was awarded a punitive down-down as an (extreme) backslider.

       Hugh Heifer was next to the sacrifical altar and was chided for speeding up to try and catch first hare Last Call Norm on trail.

       Hugh's presence at the altar was requested again. She neglected to remove her hat during the previous down-down.

       Virgins Michael and Jen were called up, awarded down-downs and welcomed to the hash.

        Just Jason was called up and congratulated for the completion of his fifth hash with Surf City. Naming ceremony to follow, probably next week it seems.

       Think back to the scene where Norm had been spied and the pack took off in slow speed pursuit. Who should have REALLY been the one to snare her? Who was by far the closest? Serial Box is the correct answer. Not really wanting to assume the responsibilities of haring, Serail Box slowed in her pursuit so much you had to look at her twice to see if she'd even moved. Much as in my last relationship, it was the proverbial "one step forward and two steps back" agenda. A down-down was awarded.

              Virgin Michael was called up next. This wasn't due so much to the fact he caught Norm as it was the fact he passed off the haring to Hugh. As hares, both Hugh and Norm were asked to join him. Michaels' explanation for this shirking of his duty was, "I got it from a woman so I wanted to give it back to a woman". Sounds like good naming ceremony material to me.

       And on that note, Surf City hash 385 was adjourned by the RA. Many returned to the Over the Hill Gang Saloon, now open for business. I, however, headed for Sant-O-Barbara and NorthSouth Intercourse.

        The next Surf City hash will be our annual Toys for Tots/Kamikaze Hash on December sixth. Banana will hare this event again. Bring an unwrapped toy, one you no longer play with yourself, to Seabright Bar & Lounge, AKA Cardiff Lounge, AKA the 529, AKA the Knight Owl, at 529 Seabright Avenue.

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 first day of December, in the year of our Hash two-thousand seven. 

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