Sunny Salutations,

A far cry from this past Thursday’s leather and lace of pink and red. Yes, it was fun and intriguing. This does NOT, however, remove the stain of trail. Our hare-pair, Pink Cherry Licker and Bacon Queef, with over 650 trails between them, should have firmly embraced the KISS method of haring: Keep It Simple, Stupid! However, the aimless twists and turns proved this dastardly duo do not subscribe to such philosophy. Details to follow.

This time we were called to the CORRECT hotel, that being the Marriott Courtyard on Riverside Avenue rather than the Hyatt Place on Broadway. While I personally see little, if any, connection betwixt these two accommodations, apparently Pink Cherry Licker does. Or at least DID at a previous point in her life. So this time she moved us from the relative safety of Broadway to the dingy depths of Beach Flats. In the dark. In the off-tourist season. The interior of the Marriott is quite nice I must admit and the outdoor patio will be quite a draw in the Summer. Sadly, that Summer season is a distant dream on this chilly February evening. In addition to a full bar, unlike the Hyatt, there are four person dining booths with TV screens in the wall and spacious couches and chairs a-plenty. The bar area filled and the few guests steered clear of the area.

Pre-lube time was it’s usual verbal exchange of gossip and events that have transpired in our lives since our last session of intercourse. This also involves ignoring what may befall us along trail. Half-minds racing through the geography of the area, wondering how safe trail will be and the possible location of Beer Check. This wild speculation was ceased only by the hare-pair’s declaration of Instructions of Trail. While almost universally ignored, there were enough blatant lies to illicit chuckles from more than a few hounds. In the colloquial, this would be termed Whistling through the graveyard. Hares-out.

The final fifteen was the settling of bar tabs, visiting the indoor bathroom and enjoying the indoor warmth. As everything must come to an end,(sometimes gratefully) co-GMs Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain ran everyone out the door to convene Circleup for Introductions. The result was names from: Flours For Anal Bum, TIMMY!!, Fap Jack, Cum You Will Not, Steamy Baanorrhea, Dung-Fu Grip, dBASED, Slow Gherkin’, Clearly Not A Hooker, Worm, Today Is Monday, Gary the Shit Stain and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Our canine contingency this week consisted of just Junk Puncher, Merlissa and Scratch and Sniff. Pack away.

A hare arrow led the litter on-left to the first check of the evening at the intersection with Riverside and Third Avenue. This check consumed an inordinate amount of time. Whether this was due to hare deviousness or hound incompetence is a debatable subject. Also one not worthy of any more of our time. On-on was eventually sounded on-right onto Third and then on-right onto Raymond Street, across Leibrandt Avenue to continue on Raymond to a check at Beach Street. Here’s where the evening’s kink rose up hard and long. TIMMY!!, having spent the formative years with Pink Cherry Licker, crossed Beach Street thinking she may take the troops onto the Boardwalk. He surmised correctly. However, due to an inordinate number of fences, we were directed onto the Main Beach and on-left. Okay, we can do this, it’s slightly under a quarter of a mile to the river and it will be easy-peasy once we get there. However, at the very last set of steps on-up to the Boardwalk, the below was encountered.

Those of us feeble minded enough to fall for this began the stumble back to the check far, far away. The tide was in making the river too high to shortcut. TIMMY!! stumbled not once but twice on the irregular peaks and valleys of the beach before reaching concrete again.

Just as this group of dejected hounds hit Beach Street, on-on was given proceeding along Beach, into the large parking lot at Beach and Third and on-right and on-up to the bridge over the river. Once up to East Cliff Drive, a solved check pointed the pod on-right. Just past Pilkington Avenue, a hare arrow begged the brood to on-left across East Cliff and onto the tracks where Liquor Check would be staged. After consuming some hideous concoction here, trail proceeded east along the tracks to Seabright Avenue and a check. Here was our promised Turkey/Eagle split. The Eagles have vanished towards the Yacht Harbor. No thanks, it’s cold and dark down there, I will Turkey Trail it this night. We gobblers went on-left onto Seabright but were soon allowed to shortcut through the parking lot behind The Blue Lounge to Logan Street. Logan was loped along until Buena Vista where an on-right was indicated followed by the on-left and on-down the remnant of South Branciforte Avenue and then on-left on-up to Oceanview Park and then to transition on-right onto Oceanview Avenue.

The Eagles joined back up at Windsor Street and the entire pack found a check at Broadway. Everyone believed it simply HAD to be an on-left and it was so solved. The tribe traipsed Broadway and eventually observed the BN at Roberts Street. I must say it was a long two blocks until the REAL Beer Check in Mimi de Marta Dog Park. But we made it. And there was much rejoicing. It was but a five minute walk to the site for Religion behind Wheel Works on the now dead end section of Laurel Street Extension. It was here leather clad, skimply-attired Dung-Fu Grip fired up his Religion machine.

Here is the listing of an (extremely) abbreviated Religion so hounds could make it to I Heart Sushi prior to the 9PM closing time: Visitors were welcomed; hares were roasted; analversaries were celebrated(BOTH hares!) and Pink Cherry Licker was congratulated on completing another trip around our sun. This Hash is over.

It was a few blocks up Front Street to I Heart Sushi where eleven hashers reassembled and ran up a food and bar tab of almost 500 bucks! Broke Bench Mountain (foolishly) offered up his credit card assuming everyone would pay him back. Gullible, isn’t he?!?

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 be 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 is still 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-32.

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 nineteenth day of February in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-three.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen