Paul’s Place,

Or so it was when your Scribe first darkened the door thereof decades ago. Then a morph into Ye Olde Watering Hole. Now Mission West. One thing, though, has remained constant: a sketchy clientele. This tradition continued with the gathering of the group as per the request of our hare-pair, that being TIMMY!! and Flours For Anal Bum. These two are so deserving of this place, birds of a feather one may say. Allow me to illustrate my premise.

The herd soon outgrew the interior of this venerable establishment and motored to the outdoor drinkin’ area. A number of tables were commandeered. However, one harriette required a table to herself. That would be Hareless who opted to bring a book to read. Scribe will leave it to you to attempt to comprehend the implications and possible consequences of her action. Bizarre does not even begin to explain such an activity. Or her, for that matter. As for we normal hashers, chatting and swilling was more the order of the day. We were graced with a visitation from a traveler, Slurpee Seconds from Las Vegas and her traveling companion, Virgin Ryan, from Marina. Hopefully he can copulate with Oral D and Jersey Lunchbox and visit with us again. Virgin Zoe showed just in time for a quick Chalk Talk and then it was off to Circleup for Introductions. Just Katie made an appearance and was actually on time for a change. While Scribe should likely avoid mentioning this well-known troublemaker but Penis Is Good For Me parked his traveling home on Delaware Avenue for the first time in months and regaled(repulsed?) the pack with (supposed) jokes collected from his travels around the world. (Also known as Flight to Avoid Prosecution) This sets the players in place for this week’s tragedy in one act.

The hares, in a stoke of luck, imparted Instructions of Trail almost exactly at our advertised 6:33 time. This would later prove beneficial due to two lost sheep which threw the entire hash behind schedule. More on those two jokers later. TIMMY!!, as senior hare (and is he EVER a senior) delivered Instructions which were exactly as disjointed and uninformative as one would expect from someone of TIMMY’s years and deteriorated state of mind. Flours stood there speechless. Hares away.

Now it was time for dBASED to conduct not one but two Chalk Talk classes. Virgin Ryan attended the first accompanied by Slurpee Seconds. Just as this class was dismissed Virgin Zoe appeared and the training session was repeated. Meanwhile we other hounds settled bar tabs and consulted GPS on our phones wondering what dire-erection this trail may take. Many of us soon realized that as TIMMY’s thought processes are no longer linear, at least in the conventional sense, we soon abandoned this exercise and resigned ourselves to our fate. Now dBASED called for Circleup for Introductions. The result of this was voices from: Steamy Baanorrhea, Hareless(minus the book), Occasional Rapist, Cum,U Will Not!, Slurpee Seconds, Virgin Ryan, Snake Me Anywhere, Clearly Not A Hooker, Rubik’s Pube, Pink Cherry Licker, Circle Gherkin’, Just Katie, Virgin Zoe, Jersey Lunchbox, Oral D and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Our canine contingency this week was Junk Puncher, Spot’d Dick and Swamp Rat. Pack out.

A check on the sidewalk behind the bar was soon solved and it was on-right to Swift Street. Another check there was soon eliminated and it was on-left past Humble Sea Brewing and yet another check was encountered at the pedestrian walk beside the railroad tracks. The FRBs eliminated this and we were directed on-right. Let’s fast forward to the west side Antonelli Pond. Mercifully, the missing and/or rotten planks forming the train trestle over the pond have been replaced so we did not risk life and limb to make this crossing. Once back on terra firma, it was on-left beside the pond to Delaware Avenue and a check solved there pointed the pod on-right.

It was obvious Long Marine Lab and it’s adjacent environs were on our map. That was fine with us but it was the fact the hares felt it necessary to tour the entire friggin’ place was unacceptable. We were not allowed the first on-left but rather we covered every square kilometer of the grounds.

We circled around the entire complex before entering De Anza Point Mobile Home Park through a coded gate that we have never found to be locked. We meandered through the park until there WAS no more park and exited through a heavy always-locked gate and onto the hillside above Natural Bridges State Park. Which, in all honesty, should be renamed Natural Bridge State Park as only one of the original three still form a bridge. On-down onto the beach we dropped and then plodded through the only medium we dislike more than the accursed railroad tracks: SAND!! Once across the beach it was on-up to the parking lot and then back on-down into the Monarch butterfly reserve. Once there we performed an on-up of the opposite shore and then(finally) encountered the Turkey/Eagle split. The eagles went on-right and exited the Park and then made an on-left onto Swanton Boulevard to Delaware and on-left there. The Turkeys continued through a field and then eventually made an on-right and came to Delaware. After rejoining both contingencies on Delaware, the troops took the trail beside what was originally a Texas Instruments building, now commandeered by UCSC, and soon found the hare-pair residing beside Antonelli Pond slurping away on Beer Check beer.

Things seemed to be progressing nicely, the walkers came on-in, almost en masse, followed by the Eagles. While preparing to on-in for Religion, it was noted Cum,U Will not! and Occasional Rapist were not in attendance. A phone call from them to Steamy revealed the fact they were lost. Or was it stoned? Probably both really. They said they didn’t even know where they’d BEEN, let alone where they WERE at the moment but were pretty sure they were on trail. More time passed and they called again saying they’d found the Turkey/Eagle split. It was now full-on dark so Steamy dispatched himself to retrieve the wayward Turkeys. Upon their arrival, they were handed drinks and told to keep walking.

The pack adjourned from Beer Check and reassembled themselves behind Upper Crust Pizza just as last week. Once in some semblance of order, Pink Cherry Licker unveiled her Religion machine. Here’s a sampling of this action: The RA herself was awarded a down-down for claiming to see the hares pre-laying trail, she was then informed it was 6:40 and they were on trail; Penis Is Good For Me for refusing to turn and view Hooker’s breasts; Jersey and Gherkin’ for a hare snare; dBASED for making the lame nomination that Hooker’s dog, Bukkake, responds to a woman’s breasts; Penis as a visitor; Virgin Zoe was welcomed(Virgin Ryan had fled in terror); Steamy for also stopping on trail when dBASED said, Junk Puncher, stop!; Penis for telling a joke both loud and lousy; Flours for thanking TIMMY!! for ‘teaching her things'(Who knew the olde man still had it in him?); Cum,U Will Not! and Occasional for becoming lost and Steamy for rescuing them and Gherkin’ for lowering himself upon bended knee in front of Zoe…and only tying her shoe(though I noted his eyes were turned upwards the entire time). And that did it… No. The hares. We appreciated the view from the coastal bluffs but next time lay a shorter trail or tell the pack to bring flashlights. This Hash is over. On-on-on bounced back and forth between the Taco Truck behind Mission West and Upper Crust Pizza.

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. Do not allow the profound to become the enemy of the interesting.

A Scribe’s sole purpose is to provide entertainment to their kennel mates. Whether or not they are successful in this endeavor remains a subject open to debate.

I chose not to complicate this Hash Trash with facts thereby allowing me to extract almost any end I desired. It was with this motive in mind I recounted the events that comprised Hash Twelve-62.

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 twentieth day of August in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-three.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe