Sand gets in your shoes,

When you motivate from one beach to another courtesy of Cum You Will Not, Pink Cherry Licker and Thmp-Thmp. I believe this was more of a convenience to them than it was a well thought out trail. One could toss an empty beer bottle from our start at Black’s Beach to religion at Sunny Cove. Personally, I’d rather toss our tosser-trio of hares. Be that as it may, let’s delve deeper into the transgressions perpetrated against our bodies on the evening of July twenty-first in the year of our Hash tw0-thousand twenty-two.

Things started pleasantly enough; the sun was shining brightly and the beach was inundated with happy people, many of whom were in various stages of nudity. The Beermeister finally made an appearance, dragging coolers haphazardly along an ALMOST existing road to our perch on the cliff above the sand. Pink Cherry Licker presented bags of colored beads and lettered blocks. From these trinkets, hashers began constructing colorful bracelets, necklaces and other items of body adornment that I do not wish to visualize. One of these colorful creations would earn a certain harriette a well-deserved down-down during Religion but I’ll reserve that story until the appropriate time.

It took some arm-bending to get the hares to deliver Instructions of Trail. Well, actually what we wanted was for them to simply leave as it was well past the standard on-out time.

Socializing was fierce as, being Wharf to Barf pre-lube, a large number of denizens have emerged from beneath their respective rocks and have joined their kennel mates at the beach. Sadly, as all things, good or bad, must come to an end dBASED was eventually forced to call for Circleup for Introductions. Fearing a riot situation, both GM’s chose to avoid this potentially dangerous situation. This request led to responding barks from the following: Pussy Wood, Transcuntnanal, Just Foot Pussy, Princess Di(arrhea), Leaky Rubber, Fap Jack, Rainbow Butthole, Wines Like A Bitch, Virgin Breanna, Womb with A View, My Sister’s Dildo, Steamy Baanorrhea, Accuprick, Virgin Erika, Virgin Jim, Baker’s Dozen’t, Deadliest Snatch, Dung-Fu Grip, Occasional Rapist, Bacon Queef, Today Is Monday, Just Sam and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Junk Puncher, Merlissa and Spot’d Dick represented our four-legged contingency. Pack out.

The troops traipsed up 14th Avenue and the FRB’s were soon punished by discovering a back check. There was little option available, we migrated to the pedestrians-only section of Prospect Street. One block along Prospect and the hares had found a trashy alley for us to motivate through which brought us to East Cliff Drive and an on-right. Once back to 14th Avenue, we were coerced into crossing on-left onto 14th. When 14th intersected with Merrill Street, we went on-right to 17th Avenue. At 17th, we were turned on-left and encountered the promised Turkey/Eagle split at Felt Street. The Turkeys are being pointed on-right onto Felt Street. It’s a beautiful day, let’s fly with the Eagles.

The Eagles passed the railroad tracks which is the direction we believed we would take. We proceeded to the next street, Kinsley Street, and turned on-right. At the next street, Chanticleer Avenue, marker made us on-right. We can see a chain link fence beside the railroad tracks, the hares must know something we do not.

A gate has been breached creating a locals-only access to the railroad tracks. And so it begins. We turned on-left on the tracks and began an extended visit of almost 1/2 mile to 30th Avenue where we were pointed on-right to Portola Drive. Here, for probably the third or fourth time today, we encountered old trail markings. While the hares CLAIMED they would mark through previous trail markings, this proved to be another example of Hares Lie! Eventually the check here was solved and we motivated on-right to 26th Avenue and there it was on-left to 24th Avenue and on-right there to East Cliff Drive where we went on-right. This was good until 20th Avenue where we turned on-left and onto the beach where flour led the flock on-right and into Beer Check.

From Beer Check it was a short-but-sandy trek to Sunny Cove Beach where Accuprick would fire up his Religion machine. Here’s a sampling of down-downs issued this night: Pussy Wood for making a bracelet resembling a lizard at the start, backsliders were punished, Virgins were abused, dBASED for doing Virgin’s Chalk Talk on a manhole cover and Just Foot Pussy for feeling bad about calling him out for such, Ska-Skank Redemption for showing up halfway through Religion, Steamy Baanorrhea celebrated his 225th hash with us…and last as well as least, our hares. They were thanked for the party favors at the start and the rave that would commence after the RA dismisses the pack but no mention was made about trail. So the party could begin, Accuprick signaled an end to this Hash and I hereby do the same for this Trash.

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 to not complicate this Hash Trash with the facts thereby allowing me to extract almost any end I desired. It was with this motive in mind that I recounted the events that comprised Hash 1199.

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

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe

Then again…

The Bastille may be too good a place for these scoundrels. I suggest dispensing with the usual Kangaroo Court associated with such dastardly deeds and send the lot of them directly to the guillotine. Beheading is an efficient (and economical) method of ridding our midst of these three misanthropes. Allow me to elaborate upon their many transgressions.

Bestiality Interruptus, Just Jenna and My Little Bony brazenly and proudly announced the entirety of their trail was prelaid. For a reason I am of yet unable to fathom, they seemed especially proud of themselves for this ‘accomplishment’ and vigorously preened themselves and each other in plain sight of their kennel mates. This brazen demonstration took place in a large public park within sight of young children as well.

A synopsis of events follows.

We gelled at Jose Avenue Park adjacent to the horse shoe pits. Bony said this area was used to raucous behavior and yelling so no one would take note of us. While that may be true, there aren’t 20 people yelling and drinking at those social events so I think we were probably taken note of by the mortals around us. Be that as it may, the festivities progressed unabated. Just Jenna even distributed beer produced by her husband which was quite tasty. Even though trail was a pre-lay, the hare trio still could not find it within themselves to leave on time. This portends of tragic events to soon follow.

As this was Bastille Day, berets were distributed and many hounds sported striped shirts and a few wore suspenders. I was unable to determine if they were to look French or as gondola operators in Venice. Then again, consider who our hares were. Hares away. (to their cars!)

Not wishing to press our luck drinking in a public park, co-GM’s Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain called for Circleup for Introductions and were greeted by responding barks from: Boneless Shelter, Pink Cherry Licker, TIMMY!!, Steamy Baanorrhea, dBASED, Wines Like A Bitch, Just Sam, Accuprick, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, Cum You Will Not, Occasional Rapist, Rainbow Butthole and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Boulder, Spott’d Dick and Junk Puncher represented our four-legged contingency. Pack off.

By virtue of the fact we assembled our traveling kennel atop not-one-but-two hare arrows, on-out was quite simple. We crossed the pedestrian bridge above a deep gorge and onto Harper Street. Strangely though, we were not directed to make an on-right onto El Dorado Avenue but continued on Harper to the next intersection, Avila Avenue. Here we encountered the first mark Bestiality Interruptus laughingly referred to as a ‘slight oversight’. The hares had crossed up back checks with standard checks. So, what we viewed was a back check circle with flour but no ‘X’ inside the circle. So we treated this sight as a check. Trail was found on-right on Avila which curves on-right and brought us right back to El Dorado. Somewhat early on trail for a pointless circle jerk, wasn’t it?

El Dorado was burned until it’s termination point at the railroad tracks where powder pointed the pod on-left to 17th Avenue where an on-right was dictated. The next intersection, Felt Street, produced an on-left followed by our lovable LC mark on-right into Felt Street County Park.

After the conclusion of our business here, we returned to Felt Street and, mostly by the process of elimination rather than adequate trail marking, found ourselves pointed on-right on 24th Avenue followed by an on-left onto Portola Drive. On the corner with 30th Avenue, the promised Turkey/Eagle split was encountered. The Turkeys were pointed on-left while the Eagle crossed Portola. I’m hoping for a sighting of the Bay, let’s fly with the Eagles.

Eagles were turned on-right onto 30th Avenue, on-left onto Scriver Street which ends at 33rd Avenue which was then taken to it’s termination at East Cliff Drive. Once on the cliffs, we had the pleasure of going on-left all the way to 38th Avenue. Once there, it was on-left onto 38th to Portola where an on-left was indicated. We plodded along the sidewalk to 35th Avenue, on-right there to Roland Drive and on-left there. This led the litter to 30th where we rejoined the Turkeys. Together both clans motivated 30th until arriving at Brommer Street Park where Beer Check was illegally staged.

Upon the conclusion of this fun little interlude, we went down/stumbled down/ fell down a hill back to Brommer and then undertook an (exceptionally) dreary three-quarter of a mile on-in to Pee Skool’s place of employment to stage Religion. (She was wise enough to skip trail)

Upon collecting everyone, RA Accuprick fired up his Religion machine. Here is a sampling of down-downs, justified or not, issued this night: those that adhered to the hare-mandated theme of French attire; Cold Smegma Kamikaze for bursting his zipper while running; backsliders were punished; Pee Skool for hosting Religion; Rainbow Butthole for hashing trail backwards; Dung-Fu Grip as DFL and Boneless Shelter was awarded the hashit. Oh, I almost forgot. The hare trio. Everyone enjoyed Beer Check at Brommer Street Park but no kind words were issued pertaining to trail. Dealing with the hares made Accuprick decide to issue the edict This Hash is over! I hereby do the same for this Trash.

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 that I recounted the events that comprised Hash 1198.

By Special Appointment of His Royal Majesty ‘G’, this Hash Trash was 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 July in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-two.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe

Happy Birthday to dBASED,

And let’s hope it’s his last one! He’s not such a bad guy, it’s just that his trails leave a lot to be desired. Such as being a source of enjoyment, beautiful scenery, events that leave a pleasant memory or, bluntly speaking, possess any redeeming social value whatsoever.

But enough compliments for this trail, let’s delve into the nuts and bolts that comprised such. As long as we’re speaking of nuts, let’s start with dBASED himself. As we know, he celebrated his 150th haring for Surf City just last week. We mourned. He hared yet again this week, this makes those that attended two-time losers. At least we get a respite this week, a much needed break.

We started from Robbie’s Pizza and Subs, formerly Joe’s Pizza and Subs and if you’re really old (like TIMMY!!) you will recognize this building was originally a Kentucky Fried Chicken. Enough of history though, let’s move into the 21st century. There was a small band playing on the patio and we noticed members of the audience, obviously followers, brought their own instruments and accompanied the band. This gathering coerced the clan into the indoor area which had the beneficial side effect of placing us nearer the bar. How serendipitous.

A Mismanager’s Meeting pertaining to this month’s Wharf to Barf started somewhat late, the GM’s were late. Consequently, the rank and file members were able to participate as well. Only trips to the bar and the music disturbed this interlude. Oh, and then there was the hares, all three of them. Occasional Rapist, dBASED and Junk Puncher arrived and put an end to the festivities. dBASED delivered an acceptable Instructions of Trail…if you were in the market for Fantasy or possibly Science Fiction. A number of promises were made, the vast majority of which proved to be either out-and-out fabrications or merely out of reach for dBASED to deliver on. Be that as it may, the hares hopped away, or trotted in Junk Puncher’s case, and social activity resumed at a high rate. Eventually though, fifteen minutes passed and this necessitated co-GM’s Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain to call for a Circleup for Introductions which resulted in responding barks from: Chippin’ Ballz, Leaky Rubber, Dung-Fu Grip, Rainbow Butthole, Pink Cherry Licker, Steamy Baanorrhea, Wines Like A Bitch, Cum You Will Not, Just Sam, TIMMY!!, Accuprick, My Little Bony, Courtesy Flush and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Boulder was our lone four-legged hound.

Trail took the troops to the intersection of North Branciforte Avenue and Water Street where we ended up going kitty-corner and then being pointed on-left onto Stanford Avenue. Stanford was used until an on-right onto Keystone Avenue was indicated. At the next intersection, Poplar Avenue, it was soon decided the pack had missed a mark. Backtracking, marker was located utilizing Arbor Avenue leading to Chilverton Street. During Religion, this oversight would be blamed on TIMMY!! and Puff as they are elders and unable to defend themselves.

Chilverton was an on-right bringing us to Morrissey Boulevard and an on-left there. Morrissey was abused for quite a distance, so far in fact, that as it curves on-right after crossing over Highway 1, Pink cherry Licker curved on-left onto Rooney Street and went the hell home. The remaining merry members of this madness plodded forward on Morrissey until an on-right was indicated onto the locals-only walkway connecting to Holway Drive and La Fonda Avenue beyond. It was on-right onto La Fonda and back over Highway 1. A short distance later an arrow pointed the pod on-right into a Eucalyptus grove and on-up onto school grounds.

Once we wove our weary way through school grounds, we took an on-left onto Park Way to Roxas Street where we discovered Liquor Check.

We continued along Roxas until making an on-left onto San Juan Avenue followed by an on-left onto Fairmount Avenue, on-right onto Trevethan and then on-left onto Eastgate Avenue. Just prior to the end of Eastgate, a narrow alley on-right brought us to Soquel Avenue where we were directed across and on-right. This lasted until Fredrick Street.

At Fredrick, the pod was pointed on-left and then onto holy ground at Star of the Sea Catholic Church. We went through the church park and on-left on Darwin Street, on-right on Windsor Street, across Seabright and sn immediate on-right to Broadway and then on-left. Some serious circle-jerking going on there. One block later we were led on-right onto Cayuga and all the way to Soquel Avenue. It was directly across Soquel, through a parking lot and on-right on Benito Avenue. When Benito reaches school grounds, that’s where the hares staged Beer Check.

In the only fortunate event of this trail, Religion was held ten feet away. Accuprick called for Circleup and started his religion machine. Here is a sampling of down-downs issued: those with no whistle were punished; backsliders were taken to task; Broke Bench was punished for Boulder’s pooping on trail; short-cutting Eagles were chided; Wines Like A Bitch was punished for calling hounds that missed a mark ‘old people’; Steamy Baanorrhea was congratulated for finding a TARDIS(Time And Relative Dimension In Space of Dr. Who fame) on trail; My Little Bony’s 225th anniversary; hashit was awarded to dBASED as the only birthday present he deserves. Oh, yeah. Hares. Thanked for cupcakes at Beer Check but no mention of trail was heard. This prompted Accuprick to declare this hash as being over and I do the same for this Trash.

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 Trail 1197.

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 thirteenth day of July in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-two.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe

Congratulations,

You have survived the carnal carnage of another Beat Your Meat. As if a trail co-hared by dBASED is not enough of a dangerous threat, we were then subjected to what Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain consider a party. While by definition parties are to be festive and occasionally raucous, this event bordered on debauchery itself. Depraved and immoral are also words that come to mind when reflecting back on Hash 1196 and the libertines that attended. If there had been just a few more in attendance, the neighbors most likely would have contacted authorities detailing lurid behavior and that a potential riot situation existed and the vice squad would have descended upon a certain Eaton Street address as would a plague of locust upon a field of wheat. But enough reminiscing for now, let’s deal with trail.

Starting from El Jardin on Capitola Road and Seventh Avenue has already been appreciated. Possibly not so much by the harried wait staff but certainly by all hashers in attendance. The bar area was maxed out by 6:30 and everyone was jockeying for position hoping to be the next to be served. We had a mini-FHAC-U invasion consisting of Today Is Monday, Worm and Arabian Goggler and Rainbow Butthole brought a Virgin, Sam by name.

At almost exactly 6:45 Broke Bench Mountain delivered Instructions of Trail with lapdog dBASED by his side. Where was Cumz Out My Nose though? Reputedly she would be delivering deceased animals to the scene of the party. This also had the side benefit of allowing her extra time at the bar.

At exactly 7PM, Accuprick called for Circleup for Introductions. His admonishment yielded replying yelps from the following pups: Arabian Goggler, Little Anal Annie, Today Is Monday, Wines Like A Bitch, Steamy Baanorrhea, Rainbow Butthole, Pink Cherry Licker, Fap Jack, Worm, My Little Bony, Virgin Sam, Cum You Will Not, Dung-Fu Grip, Rubik’s Pube and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Representing our four-legged contingency was Swamp Rat and Spott’d Dick.

Trail took us through the parking lot to Capitola Road Extension and on-right to Rodriguez Street. Rodriguez was used until it ends at Chanticleer Avenue. However, we were later to learn a certain hare did not place a Turkey/Eagle split on this street though the Eagle hare actually did lay the trail. I know this trail exists as I saw a portion of it walking a dog doing my volunteer work at the Animal Shelter. Be that as it may, everyone made it to Chanticleer and were directed on-right. Shortly thereafter our highly coveted LC mark was observed and we made an on-right for our first ever visit to Chanticleer Avenue County Park. BTW, it’s quite a nice park with two fenced dog parks(one for small dogs, one for large), picnic area and bike pump track. Liquor Check required crossing a fence or finding a way around but it was there. After such, it was back onto Chanticleer to Capitola Road where a Turkey/Eagle split was observed. The weather is nice, let’s fly with the Eagles.

It was on-right onto Capitola Road for the Eagles to begin a long, boring stretch of concrete. This would last until just across the street from the start on Seventh Avenue. Here we were pointed on-left onto Seventh until Eddy Lane where another on-left was dictated. This took the troops to Jose Avenue Park. We would desecrate the park grounds and cross the pedestrian bridge leading to Harper Court and then on-right onto El Dorado Avenue until it ends at the railroad tracks. Here the pod was pointed on-right and not far along observed the BN mark closely followed by a horde of hounds imbibing.

Business concluded here it was an arduous on-in to Seventh Avenue, on-left there and on-left at Eaton Street to the abode of Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain. Once preparations for the fiesta were completed, Accuprick moved the mob to Twin Lakes County Park and fired up his Religion machine. Here’s a sampling of down-downs issued this night: Rainbow Butthole for 69 hashes; dBASED for his 150th haring; Puff for 275 consecutive hashes; My Little Bony for using a hasher’s mortal name; Virgin Sam was welcomed; a number of hounds bitten by wasps; Worm for his inability to get his wife to accompany him from over-the-hill; co-hare Broke Bench Mountain for not following his own trail map and Little Anal Annie as a backslider. Oh, the hares. They were thanked for the upcoming party but no mention was made of trail. As it was now time to eat, Accuprick declared an end to this hash and I do the same for this Trash as well.

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 1196.

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 sixth day of July in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-two.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe

Vittles,

Cold Smegma Kamikaze style.

Let’s begin with his promise of a ‘mystery hare’. After completing this trail, the only real mystery is whether or not there actually WAS a hare at all. Between the recycled trails and gaps in trail marker, Cold Smegma may have merely left the Mediterranean and lollygagged his way back to his house to await the pack’s arrival.

Let’s delve deeper into the mystery surrounding this trail. There was a number of ASS(Appetizer Support Station) stops promised. The only ingredient thereof that actually manifested itself was the ‘Support’ portion. This TRAIL required life support as it withered and died a well-deserved death. Starting at the Mediterranean was apparently subterfuge on the hares’ part to lull us into a sense of well-being. Sadly, gullible Surf City hashers fell for this ploy as they were people both inside and outside the building enjoying themselves. The joyous feeling would fade soon after on-out though.

There was great socializing in the Med and people jumped from group to group both inside as well as outside. Outside, however, was not especially hospitable as the June Gloom moved across the land chilling spirits. Eventually the hare appeared and said he was to be the only hare today. Whomever had agreed to be said Mystery Hare obviously withdrew their support once they were introduced to trail and witnessed first-hand the cruelty thereof. Instructions of Trail were brief and cryptic. This has always led us to believe certain aspects of trail are not finalized until the hare see whom and how many have shown for their trail. Hare away.

Due to the fact hounds were located in three different areas, the hare probably received twenty minute lead time due to how long it took to unite the pack in front of the Med for Circleup for Introductions. Once accomplished though, co-GM’s Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain heard barks from the following hounds: Mr. Wiggly, Clearly Not A Hooker, Occasional Rapist, TIMMY!!, Fap Jack, Pink Cherry Licker, dBASED, Banana Basher, Accuprick, International House of Pussy and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Joining the pack at Beer Check was Premature Ejaculator and Just Andrew, both of Bali Hash House Harriers 2. Representing our four-legged contingency was Boulder and Junk Puncher. Pack out.

A hare arrow pointed the pod west on Center Avenue, across State Park Drive and on-left onto Las Olas Drive and on-down into Seacliff State Park. Trail meandered on-right past the RV and motorhome parking and then on-right and on-up the Beachgate Way path.

The fog pursued us up Beachgate Way and was not far behind as we went on-left onto Seacliff Drive followed by on-right onto Mar Vista Drive. By this juncture, it was determined we were galloping towards Cold Smegma’s home for a return visit. Trail took an unexpected on-left onto Cedar Street. This, however, proved to be the shortest Circle Jerk in Surf City history. At the apex of this misadventure, a person behind you could see where it started and where it rejoined trail twenty feet farther along.

Once back on Mar Vista, it was but a short jaunt to the on-left onto Spruce Street and the house Cold Smegma calls home. Here we supped with him on various vegan morsels(where was Dung-Fu Grip?) and eventually he brought out the big guns or more precisely the big porker. Yes, pork was available for those that consume such. Everyone complimented him on his food offerings but made no comment on trail. It’s not kind to bite the hand that feeds you so to speak.

After enduring one of the longest Beer Check’s in recent memory, the conversation shifted to whether to do the remainder of trail or on-in back to the start. The vast majority of the pack, dissatisfied with trail to this point, opted to head on-in and enjoy libations at the Mediterranean. Mr. Wiggly, International House of Pussy, Premature Ejaculator, Just Andrew and dBASED decided: In for a penny, in for a pound; so they decided to test themselves against the remainder of trail. While not looking forward to such, I believed I could derive some humor from this adventure so your Scribe opted to join them in this crusade.

Trail proceeded back along the on-out route of Mar Vista Drive before making an on-right onto Sea Ridge Road. A check(with no flour for marking) at a road on-left leading into a large apartment complex proved problematic. There seemed to be a rather large gap between the check and the first mark. However, realizing both roads eventually came to McGregor Drive, eventually the mob migrated there and discovered marker pointing on-left and over Highway 1. Let the Death March begin.

Once across Highway 1, trail proceeded to Soquel Drive where an on-right was dictated. This eventually took the troops to an on-right on-down onto Spreckles Drive, under Highway 1 and then take the next on-right to begin the strenuous on-up of Seacliff Drive East. After regaining our breath, we took an on-left onto Seacliff Drive. Seacliff Drive wanders long and aimlessly towards Monterey Bay and then(thankfully) curves on-right once reaching the cliff towering over Seacliff State Beach. Farther along Seacliff, we were treated to another Circle Jerk on-left into a field and parking lot for the beach. The only mercy here is that it was scenic and partway across the field, we could hear the raucous laughter of the pack assembled nearby. We had survived.

Once the DFL Eagles had arrived, Accuprick cranked up his Religion machine. Here’s a sampling of down-downs issued this night: the hashers that visited Accuprick’s infamous Shed for some whisky; backsliders were busted; Mr. Wiggly for breaking a chair at Beer Check; Occasional Rapist was awarded the hashit and Accuprick celebrated an analversary. Oh, yeah, the damned hare. Everyone gave Cold Smegma kudos for the tasty treats at Beer Check but kindly avoided any comments on his trail. Or lack thereof.

This prompted Accuprick to declare and end to Hash 1195 and I hereby do the same for this Trash.

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 the facts thereby allowing me to extract almost any end I desired. It was with this motive in mind that I recounted the events that comprised Hash 1195.

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 twenty-eighth day of June in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-two.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe

Ahoy,

Or should I exclaim ‘a ho!’ That may well describe last week’s hare-pair in a nutshell. dBASED and (current & second) wife Occasional Rapist led the litter from Brady’s Yacht Club past the ‘other’ Yacht Club and then on-down to the Small Craft Harbor locally referred to as the Yacht Harbor. We climaxed on a visit to the elegant yacht belonging to Broke Bench Mountain and Cumz Out My Nose.

While this may sound picturesque and exciting, between the start and the climax was a lot of dreary, nerve-wracking territory. Your Scribe will apologize in advance for dragging you around Lower Seabright through the scenic and less scenic areas thereof but the warning must become permanent pertaining to the partnering of Occasional Rapist and dBASED. I will mention they were accompanied by faithful canine companion Junk Puncher but he will follow anyone that fills his feed bowl and was not a completely willing confederate in this misadventure.

So, there we were,(there we were) filling the outdoor drinkin’ area at Brady’s Yacht Club with half the pack socializing and the other half with their eyes glued to the huge outdoor flat screen TV watching the Golden State Warriors attempt to close out the NBA Finals and garner their fourth title in eight years. Both halves shared the common ground of imbibing though.

This hash had the theme of ‘Nauti Yachty’. I must admit the hares got ‘nauti’ but it was not the pleasurable experience being ‘nauti’ can be. That’s a completely different take on being naughty. For further info on THAT particular variety of naughtiness, I would advise consulting Pee Skool.

Be that as it may, eventually the GM’s were able to drag a thoroughly-engrossed dBASED away from the game and listen as Occasional Rapist delivered Instructions of Trail. I still do not know if they were MEANT to be rambling or whether that’s just the way Occasional Rapist speaks. dBASED just stood there smiling. Okay, the hares are away so we can return to more important endeavors. Unable to postpone the inevitable any longer, co-GM’s Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain called for and received a Circleup for Introductions and consequently heard from the following hounds: Thmp-Thmp, Princess Di(arrhea), Clearly Not A Hooker, Just Foot Pussy, Bacon Queef, TIMMY!!, Pink Cherry Licker, Under Where?, Pee Skool, Dung-Fu Grip, Snake Me Anywhere, Steamy Baanorrhea, Just Jenna, Accuprick, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, Bestiality Interruptus, My Little Bony and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Our four-legged contingency was represented by Wobbles and Spott’d Dick. The stage is set for a play in one huge act, let the game begin.

We exited the parking lot behind Brady’s and were pointed on-left onto Cypress Avenue and used it to it’s end point at East Cliff Drive. An on-left there brought us to Seabright Avenue where an on-right was indicated. Seabright goes no further than the cliffs overlooking Seabright State Beach so there were turned on-left onto the remnants of East Cliff Drive that were not devoured by Monterey Bay prior to the building of the jetty at the Small Craft Harbor. There is a narrow, rut and pot-hole filled driveway, and I use that word in the loosest definition thereof, traversing on-left from East Cliff splitting the difference between Second and Third avenues. Let the Circle Jerk begin. This took us all the way to Marine Parade which, incidentally, is directly across Seabright from Brady’s. It was on-right onto Marine Parade and past Third Avenue to then on-right onto Fourth Avenue and pass that OTHER Yacht Club mentioned earlier. This brought us back to Atlantic where we were directed on-left and on-down to the Small Craft Harbor. These hares can’t seriously believe anyone will swim the channel I hope. Ah, yes, the Water Taxi. The Water Taxi, in case you do not know, runs Thursday through Sunday until Labor Day weekend. Try it sometime, it’s a fun, beautiful and FREE excursion. We waited for quite a while on AA Dock near the original location of Aldo’s Restaurant for the boat to appear.

Eventually it sailed into port and we all clambered aboard for the quick trip across the harbor. Some antics performed on this seafaring voyage by Wobbles would earn her hash name for her. More on that later though. Once disembarked, we turned on-right through the parking lot for the Crow’s Nest and then on-left to resume our jaunt along East Cliff Drive. A short distance along, trail turned the troops on-left onto Assembly Way and one block later on-right onto Alpine Street. Many years ago, the Seventh Avenue end of Alpine Street was closed to vehicles. A pedestrian-only path leads to Seventh Avenue where we were coerced into undertaking the incredibly dangerous crossing of Seventh without benefit of a crosswalk. Miraculously, all avoided getting killed and continued on Alpine to Eighth Avenue and on-right back to East Cliff Drive.(again) An on-left was followed by a quick on-left onto Ninth Avenue which was followed by a quick on-right off road onto a locals-only trail beside Schwan Lake. This continued a while past the origin of the name for Rubik’s Pube’s dog, Swamp Rat. After viewing the backside of dozens of homes, we came to Tenth Avenue and were pointed on-left onto Delores Street. This brought us (back) to Seventh and this time were blessed with the grace of an authentic crosswalk. At Sixth Avenue the promised Turkey/Eagle split manifested itself. The Eagle trail appears it will not be much fun so let’s stick with the Turkey trotters tonight.

We continued along Delores until Lake Avenue where we went on-right to Eaton Street. While approaching the bridge over the harbor, we noted the Eagles passing over the bridge. The Turkeys, however, were directed under the bridge and to the top of the east side of the harbor. Rumor Central contends the Eagles made their way up the Seabright area and into Fredrick Street Park and on-down to the harbor again. Once the clan was at the top of the harbor, the BN mark was observed and directed one and all out onto J Dock and the the opulent yacht owned by Broke Bench Mountain and Cumz Out My Nose. Here we found munchies and drinks to keep us happy for quite a while. As a matter of fact, it was well past sundown when the GM’s finally told us to pack it in and pack it up and migrate to the parking lot on Watson Street across from Day’s Market.

Once safely covered by darkness, RA Accuprick started his Religion machine. Here’s a sampling of down-downs issued this session: Occasional Rapist fer her birthday; co-hare dBASED for leaving his flour bag on the dock; Wobbles, who shook violently on the Water Taxi ride across the harbor, became Daddy’s Little Vibrator; Cold Smegma Kamikaze honored for completing 150 hashes with us; the hares for their nauty/nautical theme; Princess Di(arrhea) for taking the Water Taxi all the way to Beer Check and dBASED was awarded the Hashit for leaving his flour bag on the dock. Oh, yeah. The accursed hares. The only compliment I heard was the pack wishing when they fell in the harbor that they would drown quickly and painlessly.

After dispensing with the hare-pair, Accuprick declared this hash being over and I do hereby declare this Trash over as well.

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.

By Special Permission 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 twenty-first day of June in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-two.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe