Check out the title of this hash and now you know why it might be a good read. Written by Hogazm for trail 379, which took place back in October 0f 2007. (Note – It was a bad trail.)
Hash #379 WORST HASH EVARRRRR
Hare: Piss In Booths Hounds: Banana Basher, Beaver Whacker, Auntie Cumima, Jiz Bollah, GAS, Serial Box, Dr. Nappy Headed Hoe, Rod Lover, Vince Lamblowme, Green Peace, Pixilated Obscenity, TIMMY, Puff the Magic Drag Queen, Ralph-U-Crammed In, Daddy Warbucks, Butt Balls, Spooge Bath No Pants, PCP, Just Tom, Pearl Necklace, Last Call Norm, Choca-cola, Little Anal Annie, Just Kirin, Harry Potter, Just Rupert, Fowl Balls, and Hogazm.
This trail was soooooooo bad that I hear my mother’s voice talking in the back of my head, saying, “If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say it at all.” Sorry mama.
HOW BAD WAS IT?
This trail was so bad that I think I’m gonna go home sick from work today because after traveling so many miles out in the dark cold night, I feel seriously ill today (and by the way, it is becoming very clear to me how few of you actually read my trash because I am STILL having hashers come up to me asking, “You have lyme disease Hoggy?”)
This trail was so bad that into the first five minutes, a stoned TIMMY who had just finished handing out the wrong hash cash change to several hashers was already saying, “Fuck Her!” in reference to the hare.
This trail was so bad that some hashers took a cab back and drank tall PBRs from the Quicky Mart while waiting for others to find their way back.
This trail was so bad that we started feeling like we were in a bad rendition of Stand By Me, drunken horror-movie style after walking rugged railroad tracks for miles and miles in the dark.
This trail was so bad that Snowmen pooped all over it.
This trail was so bad, that when the hashers started getting really grumpy, Beaver Whacker took it upon herself to lighten the situation with a little slap-stick, raise-the-moral humor by slipping on a puddle and falling on her ass, hysterically laughing instead of getting up. Way to take one for the team Beaver!
This trail was so bad that the hare started to feel bad and drove around the neighborhoods, trying to find hashers on trail so she could pick them up in her car and drive them to beer check. Then she apologized profusely while getting lost driving around, trying to find her house, and repeatedly pulling in front of cars that were going full speed.
This trail was so bad that Foul Balls let the hare’s cat out of the house, not knowing if we had lost her cat for good.
This trail was so bad that the RA went home. “I’ve seen Butt Balls mad before, but I’ve never seen him THIS mad – he was furious!”
This trail was so bad that not one hasher (including the hare who had flour all over the side of her car) did the entire trail by foot, and if they did I clocked it at reaching over seven miles.
This trail was so bad that Puff sent the scribe an email in the morning saying this:
Quick notes for last night’s fiasco: running along the tracks, a home owner comes out and yells @ Daddy Warbucks- What are you doing out there? “Keeping Santa Cruz weird!” was the reply. Later, a skunk chased Daddy in Rio Del Mar. Trail as Dad & I did it was 4.75 miles and we were told Beer Check was @ PnB’s which would have added at least another mile & a half! Have fun with this Trash!
This trail was so bad that Banana said at the end, “I’ve been hashing since 1986, and this is the worst trail I’ve ever seen.”
This trail was so bad that the hare, who was angry with Stupid Pussy for supposedly giving her the wrong hare date, took it out on a whole group of hashers and is now barred from ever being able to set a Surf City trail again.