Our meat was severely beat by a pair of dead woods in the redwoods.
This is a sad but nonetheless concise synopsis of Hash 592, our annual benefit for Second Harvest Food Bank. If you were smart you’d read no further. However, knowing your propensity for flaunting your half-mindedness, I will continue with tales of trail to allow you to reaffirm your stupidity.
We assembled in Little Anal Annie’s Garden Paradise under brilliant blue skies in Aptos. The pack continued to grow into the forties. A herd this huge must have strained the available bathrooms to their limit.
Visualizing the complete destruction of his home, co-hare Butt Balls corralled his partner-in-crime, Eagle trail hare Cockiss, and started to deliver Instructions of Trail. However, his first announcement was whomever had stolen his flour bag better return the damn thing or Cockiss would be the sole hare and Cockiss promised nothing but an Eagle trail which would border on being one of those notorious trails he lays for Agnews State H3. The flour bag promptly reappears.
Lies of Trail completed, Butt Balls and Cockiss hop on-out. The momentary diversion they provided soon turned to apprehension. Many started thinking back to last year’s trail and remembering the promise they made to themselves after THAT trail that they would not allow themselves to be tortured again in that manner. Yet, here you are again reinforcing the fact you’re a half-mind.
After the passage of sufficient time, Banana Basher called for a (huge) circleup and introductions were made. On-out was a twelve step walk to the street and the viewing of the evening’s first check. As the Forest of Nisene Marks is our traditional destination, most of the flock flew on-left on-up Sunset Way to find another check at Ledyard Way and Mesa Drive. On-right and further on-up was the path chosen for us and just as Mesa curves on-left Stickless finds flour on-right and on-down a locals-only entrance to the park.
Just as I was leaving Thursday night, Butt Balls cornered me and asked I not give too many details pertaining to trail. I told him trail was excellent, why not revel in your success? Butt Balls gave me two reasons: one, he may become indolent soon and wish to use the same trail next year and two, many of the trail he used are illegal and he does not wish to hear Ranger Rick knocking on his door some evening.
Consequently, I will only say trail was it’s usual strenuous self with many ups-and-downs, both literally and figuratively, as well as a number of stream crossings, (all but one mercifully using a bridge) encounters with poison oak and enough proof, both visual AND olfactory, that horses have been here recently to start your own fertilizer factory. A great big hash Thank you to our hare-pair.
As for Religion, FHAC-U’s Suckin’-up Spouse and Agnews State H3’s Cockiss pulled duty as co-RA’s. (Hasn’t Cockiss done enough for/to us already?) As Puff has difficulty counting past twenty without pulling his zipper down, I found it very time-consuming to count up the generous donations everyone made to Second Harvest. Therefore I missed much of religion but here are the few down-downs I witnessed. Waxi-Pad was chastised for bypassing Beer Check, Shallow Hole for freaking out when (current) husband Waxi-Pad did not appear at Beer Check, Banana Basher for holding a private party. Then we toasted and roasted the hare-pair. I want to make sure these hares get everything they deserve…and less as well. Just HEARING Cockiss was going to be a hare again this year paralyzed my calf muscles for twenty minutes and knowing Butt Balls would accompany him was enough to send this hound galloping to the nearest fire hydrant. Going on-out on another Butt Balls and Cockiss trail always gives me mixed emotions. I fear the worst but have the satisfaction of finding out later that I was correct in that assumption. Violence against these two was actually contemplated initially but ultimately rejected as being counterproductive to hashdom as a whole. There were far more down-downs, there always is when Spouse RA’s but I doubt anyone really cares so let’s move on. Douche of Hazzard presented Surf City with a hundred buck donation from the FHAC-U. This generous donation was then matched by Surf City. Pixilated Obscenity asked how much harriers would pay to see her flash so Banana passed the hat and added another one hundred and fifteen bucks to the kitty. She said that was not enough but thanked them for the donation. Just kiddin’. She held up her end of the bargain….and her shirt as well. Soon after this shameless display of flesh, the outdoor lights went out. A harrier then began stroking a large rod he had on his person and soon many hashers were covered with glow-in-the-dark goo. Puff’s cheap-ass camera did not record it well but the Flash contains minimal photographic proof.
Religion was adjourned and feasting on roast beast began. Things began to degenerate rather rapidly and inversely proportional to the level of ale in the troughs present tonight. Morning Missile and Butt Balls pulled chef duty and did an admirable job.
When the final donations were received, we reached the grand total of twelve hundred and seventy-five dollars. Even better, as many of you know, Second Harvest can take one buck and turn it into nine dollars worth of food. Doing the math, that means you generous degenerates just provided eleven thousand four hundred seventy-five dollars of food to people that really need it. A job well done by any one’s measuring stick.
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 at Santa Cruz, Ca., or elsewhere if need be, on this, the twenty-first day of August in the year of our Hash two-thousand eleven.
On-out,
Puff the Magic Drag Queen