Greetings,

       And welcome to your twenty-first AGM party. I apologize that such will be tempered by our hare-pair being that of Baker’s Dozen’t, notorious sex fiend, and Dung-Fu Grip, AKA The Running Man. These two peas in the same pod do not portend of a successful trail but, hey, it’s AGM and we’re at the venerable Jury Room which has a history of questionable denizens starting with Edmund Kemper in the early seventies and the house speciality, The Giant Gopher. Uh, that refers to a drink, not a burrowing creature the bane of all gardeners.

Okay, the stage is set for this playful play to begin and all the characters, and I DO mean characters, have taken their places on the stage. We were able to renew a number of old acquaintances; especially The Arabian Goggler, Today Is Monday and their chauffeur, Yellow Prick Load. They journeyed from over-the-hill together and, hopefully, will leave the same way. Deadliest Snatch and (starter) husband Rat Pussy resurfaced after a long absence. They’ve been hibernating for some unknown reason. We witnessed the presence of Bareback Unicrack. Now that she’s moved back to Santa Cruz, we never see her here. Jizziki made the jaunt up from his castle in Monterey and regaled us with tales of his new job. Apparently, the road leading to it has been allowed to deteriorate to the point many patrons, Jizziki among them, regularly drive off the road and onto the golf course through which the road runs. Pee Skool was in attendance but I knew better than to ask her what she’s been doing as it’s guaranteed to be embarrassing and cause any decent person to blush multiple shades of pink. I would mention Ska-Skank Redemption came down from the Peninsula but she has a better attendance record that many of us that live here. Amazingly, Dicky Wacker was able to locate us. Frequently, even with the help of his phone’s GPS, he becomes lost once he leaves his Beach Hill abode.

The players have all taken their places and the two protagonists in this escapade will deliver Instructions of Trail and allow us to return to the REAL reason we’re all here and it sure ain’t listening to these two jokers drone on all bloody evening.     

So, hares away, out of sight and almost out of mind as well. Though a tragic trail looms large in our future, we choose to ignore such until it becomes absolutely positively time for this organization to on-out. Zero hour though did arrive and responding barks were heard from the following attending hounds: Pink Cherry Licker, TIMMY!!!, Banana Basher, dBASED, Today Is Monday, Just Holly(will she EVER be named?!?), L’eggs, Wicked Retahded, Cum You Will Not, Occasional Rapist, Six of Nine, Yellow Prick Load, Bareback Unicrack, Ska-Skank Redemption, Cumz Out My Nose, Dicky Wacker, Broke Bench Mountain, Snake Me Anywhere, Underwhere?, Thmp-Thmp, Princess Di(arrhea), Steamy Baanorrhea, Rat Pussy, Deadliest Snatch, Jizziki, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, Arabian Goggler, Pee Skool and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. There’s the list of actors, the field is set, the die cast. Off we go.

The appropriate description of this trail will be dispensed. From the Jury Room the troops turned on-right on Ocean Street to Water Street where an on-right was indicated. Let’s just fast forward up the Water Street hill, nothing of importance occurred between Ocean Street and Branciforte Avenue. Oh, I guess there may have been a check or some other pointless hash mark prior to Branciforte Avenue but, just as were our hares, these were universally ignored and the pod plodded forward. 

Once the hideous hill on Water Street was defeated, marker made the merry memebers of this madness on-right onto Branciforte Avenue and traipse trail to Soquel Avenue where yet another on-right was dictated. We sense a pattern developing here. We feel we are circling the block and are on our way back to whence we began this folly. Just prior to heading on-down the Soquel Avenue hill to Ocean Street, a large hare arrow pointed the pod on-right into the parking lot behind Branciforte Plaza. Once safely ensconced in the darkened rear of the lot, our highly-favored Beer Near mark was observed.

There, just across the street in the shadow of the monolithic mansion and former abode of Last Call Norm and her forever-husband Pearl Necklace, Beer Check was staged. Pardon the digression but this is just beside the office where old hasher Phyllis Driller works. As an even deeper digression, your Scribe ran into Phyllis on Pacific Avenue Sunday afternoon. She claims to miss us and will attempt to visit sometime. Health issues have prevented an appearance of late. Before nervous owners of nearby Ristorante Italiano call local constabulary, we made an exit back to Soquel Avenue and made the anticipated on-right to Ocean Street where another on-right was indicated which motivated one-and-all into a galloping gait on-back to The Jury Room.

Once back to the start, food was dispersed and dutifully dispensed with in short order. This paved the way for combination Religion and announcement of next year’s victims…uh, I mean Mismanagement and their associated peripherals.

I’ll breeze through this as only those that were appointed care and there’s nothing those poor bastards can do to change it now.

GM’s: Broke Bench Mountain and Cumz Out My Nose (let’s see if the marriage survives THIS!!!)

Hare Raiser: Occasional Rapist

Haberdasher: Wicked Retahted

Social Sec: Cum You Will Not

Religious Advisers: Accuprick, Pink Cherry Licker and Dung-Fu Grip with dBASED as a last resort

Treasurer: Dung-fu Grip and Shallow Hole(who is THAT?)

Hash Cash/Hash Flash/Scribe: Puff the Magic Drag Queen(only Mental Midget half-minded enough to accept) 

The announcement of this year’s victims pretty much put the cap on this year’s AGM and that pretty much does the same for this Trash recap. Apparently Puff will be visiting with you weekly for the next year though. Wait till I find out who the sob was that stuffed the ballot box with my name….

The preceding was a factual accounting of actual events though possibly not as they actually occurred. One should never allow the facts to stand in the way of a good story.

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 seventeenth day of November in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-one.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe