Princess Diarrhea here, reprezentin’ while the regular ladies who trash are MIA. Occasional Rapist and dBASED are wandering the busy asphalt trails of Noo Yawk. Shallow Hole and Waxi Pad are getting all “abbondanza!” in the Italian countryside. You know… slugging fine wine and mangia-ing fine Italian cuisine… which may only vaguely resemble what they’re slinging at Bocci’s Cellar. It’s under new ownership, so it’s anybody’s guess.
About a dozen of us half-burnt half-minds were soon lamenting the loss of the old bocci ball courts. Fret not–word on the street is that the paved-over gravel courts will be reborn as astroturf courts. None of us would have been playing bocci anyways because the soberness and general malaise of the group was undeniable. The barmaid was even turned away on at least two occasions due to no takers(!). Timmy! is cutting down his booze calories, Puff and Deep Stroke shared one Shock Top and backwash, and Hugh Heifer was swearing off the firewater after finally getting over that birthday week hangover. AccuPrick did his best to drive us to drink by telling perhaps the only Star Trek joke to ever incite a fatwa. He then spread some news that’s worthy of raising a glass to: $6 movies at Regal Cinema 9 on Tuesdays, y’all!!!
OK short and sweet–the trail loop in a nutshell: on left, around the tannery, up Golf Club Drive, on right at the railroad tracks, through the toilets of Heroin Hill, up the to Pogonip clubhouse, across meadows, and down through the woods to the bus yard beer check. Sounds like a quick trail. But oh it wasn’t. Not sure if it was the runners high, but at least we enjoyed the nature, sunset, Jesus rays on the meadows, birds chirping, flowers, and all that crap. Maybe the real joy was from us imagining hare Timmy! was being eaten by coyotes ahead because Timmy! is on a diet and was making us all suffer for it. Yeah, it was pretty. But the trail also had mosquito’s and the worst shiggy ever: critter and human poop stations throughout. We were calling the place Poopoonip because Timmy! must’ve been dropping scat along with the flour. I’d always been told the origins of the name Pogonip came from: polo, golf and nip (o’ booze). However, I’ve also read it’s from the Ohlone word meaning “icy fog”. It’s your call. Puff found a Lost Boy on the porch of the clubhouse who didn’t even realize he was on the real set of the movie. Aside from the clubhouse porch, surprisingly no hardcore junkies or vampires were on trail–only their excrement.
As FRB Deep Stroke, Thmp, Hugh, and I arrived at the bus yard beer check to claim that cold wet beer we’d long suffered for, we found at least half the pack had shortcut. See? Malaise.
Hugh was super excited to have found her first geocache ever on trail. dBASED will no doubt be jealous when he reads this! Thmp-Thmp helped himself to a party popper out of the geocache box. At beer check he banged Deep Stroke’s ear with it and My Little Bony was happy to catch the ribbon spew. The popper didn’t even scare off a nearby bobcat that was squatting to leave a crap (c’mon, everybody’s doing it!).
We all watched a couple of movies on Twat Did You Say?’s phone:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e9mG6R0UE-Y
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LnDIrf4-fGU
Watching movies at beer check? What a pack of lazy bastards! Ralph Crammed-In was even considering helping himself to the bus yard so he could drive us the three whole blocks to religion.
Some life was pumped into religion by a Ventures-style surf guitar band jamming at the rehearsal space next door. A dirty joke from Accu also got things rolling. Let’s hope that his good, funny c*nt joke will be redeeming enough to call off that fatwa. Did Hairy Potter and Accu then lead us in the Yogi Bear Song? Does a bear shit on trail? Thmp and I tag-teamed a tired Mike Tyson joke that bombed so bad we drank half our beer in shame before the down down. Deep Stroke the beer fairy was pouring ‘em deep, cheap, warm, and heady. Half the pack drank for shortcutting, so the punishment fit the crime.
My 25th hash was regally commemorated until my heartfelt acceptance speech was crushed by Hairy Potter rightfully telling me to can it. Another touching moment was hearing that the exact spot where Choka Cola had spewed on a prior hash was passed in reverence this very night.
On on on was back at Bocci’s where Johnny Campbell & The Bluegrass Drifters (coincidentally featuring a former hasher on standup bass) were up to some banjoin’ and some fiddlin’. We might’ve stayed longer for some boot-scootin’, but when the conversation turns to catching your parents having sex, it’s just time to go.