All posts by Puff

Trash 1138

SCH3 Trash

Salutations,

       This will be a primitive Hash Trash apropos of the trail it will chronicle.  Why this trail as opposed to any of the exquisite trails your acting Scribe has provided for you over the past fifteen months or none of the previous rude and crude outings thrust upon us by DungFu Grip you may wonder? Because, this trail, my dear kennel mates both old and new, marks our emergence from our chrysalis; our government-mandated and our self-imposed isolation, the evade-the-virus mentality that seized the world’s mentality since March of twenty-twenty. Hashdom never had to face such an adverse occurrence prior. Now hashers have been 86’d, expelled, banned and physically ejected from numerous venues since December of 1938 but never in all those eighty-six years has every Hash everywhere been prohibited from plying our trade.

Now that we have resumed REAL Hashing, let’s proceed with a condensed overview of Trail 1138.

We were instructed to park in an (unauthorized) dirt parking lot beside Roaring Camp Railroad. The designated area was 90% full when Puff and Dicky Wacker arrived prior to 6PM. The situation would soon deteriorate even farther. Many hounds had to park so far away that getting to the start could count as a trail in and of itself. Soon co-hare DungFu Grip would arrive and direct us to an abandoned homeless encampment in nearby woods. The only remnants of this former camp was a half-full ashtray and an exemplary stand of poison oak.

After as many hounds as would brave the near one-hundred degree heat assembled, the hare-pair of DungFu Grip and his accomplice Baker’s Dozen’t were seen off to the side drawing patterns in the dust with their shoes, erasing them and then repeating the process a number of times. Some aspect of trail they had planned bothered them which proceeded to have the same affect on the pack. After settling upon a course of action, they relayed Instructions of Trail. They were so far off the mark I will not waste my time regurgitating them nor your valuable time reading them. They left informing us we would find the first trail marking in the (over-filled unauthorized) parking lot.

After passage of the appropriate lead time, dBASED assembled the crew for introductions. Everyone mumbled in muffled voices fearful of what was to follow. We exited the homeless campground leaving the ashtray behind but would see copious quantities of poison oak again soon. Less than a hundred feet from the first mark in the (over-filled unauthorized) parking lot, hasher down! Hugh Heifer managed to take a tumble due to gravel no larger than a grain of sand. By virtue of the fact it was past the first trail marking, it qualifies as Blood on Trail. This also set the tone for the remainder of trail for Hugh too.

The mob has now invaded the grounds of Roaring Camp Railroad. The pack began to thin out through here. The less stupid among us returned to the start while the more stupid forged ahead, a decision more than a few would come to regret. We passed a wedding reception in progress on the grounds and then took an on-left and began to leave civilization behind. Soon we entered the area where the nuptials had transpired, ignoring the sign requesting us not to do so.   

Civilization safely behind them, the hares began subjecting the pack to the terror and tedium told of in their Instructions of Trail. They warned us of a hill about one mile in but neglected to mention it’s angle of incline or of it’s longevity. We will speak no further of it.

Later, MUCH later, we reached the railroad tracks that would eventually take trains to the top of Bear Mountain. The Turkeys began cross-tie walking while the Eagles proceed to the next hill. We know where the tracks will take the Turkeys, let’s fly with the Eagles and see where they’re led.

Another series of hills, AKA mountains, would take this group to the top of Bear Mountain. 

Was this climb difficult? Well, the only way humans previously were able to attain this height was having to build a damn railroad to get up here. You make the call.

The Eagles left here and began a circuitous path on-down, and sometimes back on-up, as they make their weary way back towards the start. Eventually passing under the railroad trestle spanning the mighty San Lorenzo River, they then reentered Henry Cowell Park and found River Trail. Eventually, these tired pups transitioned to Meadow Trail, passed the Felton Diversion Dam and fish ladder and back to the start. There they discovered Turkeys swilling away and munching on munchies. This further made them question why they undertook the Eagle trail. 

As soon as a trio of DFL Eagles appeared; Just Holly, Under Where? and Puff, dBASED convened Religion. Chippin’ Ballz and dBASED were awarded congratulatory down-down for attending CAN’d H3’s Red Dress Run last weekend; Hugh Heifer was mocked for shedding Blood on Trail one-hundred feet from the start; a series of down-downs were assigned pertaining to missing/not stopping/ignoring Beer Check and the hares were justifiably roasted alive.

On-On-On was staged at Taqueria Vallarta in Felton for the few that had managed to retain enough energy to chew.

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 and editor at Santa Cruz, Ca., or elsewhere if need be, on this, the twentieth day of June in the year of our Hash Two-thousand twenty-one.

On-out,

Puff

the Magic Drag Queen

Acting Scribe

Surf City H3


Trail 947. Too long? Shortcut, follow dBASED

SCH3 Trash

Hello voyeurs,

As if pretending to be a Hash Flash is an insufficient display of devotion to the Hash, our illustrious GM has decided I should fill in for CumFart Zone as Scribe because she’s out of town. She’s also out of her little half-mind but that’s a non-sequitur I guess. So, not only do I have to pull double duty this week, but I’ve been assigned the task of recapping a trail that everyone that hashed it would rather forget. I’d like to forget the two half-mind hares, Shallow Hole and Fap Jack, as well but they keep popping up in my nightmares like two zombies that refuse to die.  Be that as it may…..

Trail began innocuous enough, even pleasantly one may say as we started from recently-opened Santa Adairius on Water Street. This was our first time there and it is a great venue. I just hope I am able to forget what happened after we left here so that my next visit here will not induce an unpleasant flashback to this terrible trail.

After disposing of the hare-pair and all the beer we could swill in the time allotted us, the following hounds circled-up in the parking lot formerly home to the Staff of Life grocery store: Pink Cherry Licker,(more about her later) TIMMY!!, Baker’s Dozen’t, Accuprick, Jizziki,(more on him later) Thmp-Thmp, Princess Di(arrhea), CuntJungle,( a ditty from her later), Dog Breath,(story on him too) Cum You Will Not,(she’ll give us a chuckle too) Cold Smegma Kamakaze(a laughing stock later) dBASED(up to his usual tricks,stay tuned) Testecoil, Just Foot Pussy(late comer) Bacon Queef,(responsibility for a tragedy) and (reluctant) interim Scribe Puff the Magic Drag Queen.

Trail went behind the old Staff of Life building and came to Poplar Street for our first check. Trail was located crossing Water and Soquel, going through the parking lot at the current Staff of Life and down Darwin to a check at Gault Street. The pack then plodded down the locals-only walkway beside the library(that’s an anachronism where books are kept and predates computers) and across Hanover. The next check was discovered at Broadway where, after an unacceptably long distance, trail was discovered on-left on Broadway to another check at Fredrick Street. Here the pack scattered like a billiard ball break and went every which-away. Hound headed towards Fredrick Street park and a few towards Arana Gulch. These losers soon returned upon hearing the on-on on-left on Fredrick and we were not allowed to rest again until reaching Soquel Avenue. We’ve already reached the one mile mark and the hares show no signs whatsoever of allowing us to quench our growing thirst.

We were forced across busy Soquel onto San Juan Avenue. After this point, trail became somewhat convoluted so my memory of it is feeble at best but feeble also echoes trail quality so the exact details are unimportant. We went on-right on Melrose and on-left on Marnell, I think. We hacked along Marnell for an obscene distance and then on-left onto Roxas and one block later an on-left put us back on San Juan Avenue. San Juan was no more fun the second time than it was the first and, as a matter of fact it was even more boring this time. A block later we found ourselves at the intersection with Morrissey

We crossed busy Morrissey and were directed on-left back towards Santa Adairius. Finally! We’re heading for Beer Check and none to soon either I dare say.  Oops! I spoke too soon. A few blocks down Morrissey, a hare arrow pointed the pod on-right onto Hammond followed by an on-right onto Poplar Street just a few blocks from where we viewed the very first check of this trail on-so-many miles ago. We’ve just passed the two mile mark and are STILL heading away from home. This does not bode well. An on-right onto Poplar and we traversed it’s entire length till it ends at Fairmount. Here an on-left was indicated which brought us to a check at Branciforte Avenue.

It was here your (unwilling) replacement Scribe decided to throw the towel in and head home. And so I did. Consequently, from this point forward I will concoct (AKA ‘lie’) as to what transpired on the remainder of this trail.

Trail led the litter on-right on Branciforte and over Highway 1, on-right onto Goss, on-right at the first intersection, Gilbert, and when Gilbert comes to an end one block later, the mob made the necessary on-left onto Rooney Street and proceeded to the abode of co-hare Fap Jack and his lovely wife Pink Cherry Licker.

Now this is where things begin to get good. Number one, Puff is home by this time drinking a beer and cursing our hare-pair. Number two, dBASED’s innate half-mindedness takes over and, worse yet, he plays Pied Pipe of Fools to a number of the pack. Here’s the gory details. Co-hare Fap Jack had announced Religion would be near the start. At some point post-announcement, the site for Religion was moved. To aid an already befuddled bevy, the hares laid trail from Beer Check to Religion which was to be held in the murky triad of churches between Elk Street and Pacheco Avenue where the Quakers, Church of Christ and the Mormons convene.  However….

dBASED, ‘knowing’ where Religion would be better than our hares, chose to ignore the trail markings they’d kindly placed and decided to ‘shortcut’ back to Santa Adairius. With him he took half-minds Jizziki, Cum you Will Not, Cold Smegma Kamikaze and CuntJungle. Once back to Sana Adairius and finding no other hashers, a frantic phone call revealed their foolishness. They then drove to Religion, with the exception of Jizziki and Cum You Will Not whom obviously were embarrassed by their disobeying the club directive: Never follow dBASED!, placed their tails betwixt their hind legs and shagged their arses home skipping Religion.

Back to Puff. I have now finished my beer and called TIMMY!!. TIMMY!! told me where Religion was and to go back to Santa Adairius and someone would retrieve me. I thank Thmp-Thmp for doing so and delivering me to Religion.

Now that dBASED and the prodigal hounds have arrived, it’s time for Religion.

Just Foot Pussy was busted for being a non-runner.  Now we have to deal with Pink Cherry Licker and her wino sidekick, Bacon Queef. Seems that as trail passed within a block of Bacon Queef’s home, she and Pink Cherry Licker ambled on-in for a Gorilla Wine Check. Worse yet, it seems PCL became ‘forgetful’ (Read: Tipsy!) and abandoned our hashit at BQ’s abode. On the upside, this serious lapse in judgement made the awarding of the hashit a cinch this week. Accuprick was treated to a rousing chorus of Happy Birthday as he has made it to 65. He doesn’t look a day over 70 either, does he? Cold Smegma Kamikaze was invited to visit with the RA. At one of the checks, he wrote OnOne in big letters. That’s nice of him but there were two glaring deficiencies present. One, he neglected to indicate which direction this valuable piece of information led him and two, worse yet, he was too frggin’ lazy to come back to the check and kick it once solved. Dog Breath, noticing Puff’s absence at Beer Check, thought the Alzheimer’s had kicked in and I was lost on trail so he went back looking for me. Hint: when someone is lost, you will NOT find them on trail. In what was the only good piece of information we received this night, CuntJungle has announced her departure from amongst us is taking place next month. I would request dBASED immediately move her Hash Count to the page for those that have not hashed with us in a year so that I will not have to see her picture when I make my weekly perusal of the Hash Count. On-on-on was…oh, wait. I almost forgot the accursed hares. Shallow Hole and Fap Jack were roundly condemned. They should have been hanged but there was no tree nearby. Okay, back to where I was before being interrupted by the hares. On-on-on was convened at Taqueria Santa Cruz across from the Double-Oh-Seven, a place a few hashers may have gone as well. This signals an end to Trail 947 and, hopefully, to the haring aspirations of Shallow Hole and Fap Jack.

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 January in the year of our Hash two thousand and eighteen.

On-out,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Acting Scribe,

Surf City H3

 

 

Hash 936: High hills, creepy creeks

SCH3 Hash

Salutations,

Gather round, young pups. It’s time for a throwback Trash. That’s one where hares are harried for hideous happenings on trail and hounds are taken to task for their abundant incompetence.

I will not complicate this Trash with facts thereby allowing me to extract almost any end I desire. It is with this motive in mind that I will now recount the events that comprise Trail 936. What follows is a true accounting even if it is not the events that actually occurred.

Teste Coil was being shepherded by Princess Di(arrhea) and Thmp-Thmp on his Virgin Haring. This is a real world example that supports the old adage, ‘The blind leading the blind’.  Admittedly, it would have been worse had dBASED been Teste Coil’s teacher as then not only would trail have been of poor quality but it would also have been too damn long as well. Thank the gods of the Hash for THAT small favor at least.

The start was pleasant enough. A beginning at Beer Thirty is always a wise choice though I have now been forced to the unpleasant conclusion that a good START does not necessarily guarantee a good TRAIL.  Allow me to expand upon that premise.

After being assaulted by another slow-acting poison concoction from the half-mind of Cum You Will Not, the merry members of madness circled-up for introductions and we heard from: Accuprick, Rat Pussy, Deadliest Snatch, Baker’s Dozen’t, Wicked Retahted, Pink Cherry Licker, Stub rub, Summer’s Yeast, Twisted Fister, TIMMY!!!, dBASED, Occasional Rapist, Cuntjungle, Shallow Hole, Twat Did You Say?, Little Anal Annie, Butt Balls, Jizziki, Cum You Will Not, Urine Cider, Dog Breath, Real boring Bitch, Virgin Jesse, Virgin Susanne and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. None of the aforementioned would be happy hounds upon conclusion of the trail of terror.

There was initial confusion at the check just outside Beer Thirty. Not only was this a less-than-auspicious start, but it set the tone for the entirety of trail to follow as well. After feeling our way though this one, the gang galloped up Main Street and discovered a check at the very next intersection, that being the one with East Walnut. The clan coagulated around the check at Lions Park and spread out sniffing for trail. After a false start across Soquel Creek and onto the playground at Soquel Elementary School,(who started us on THAT false trail?), true trail was located on-right and on-up East Walnut Street. (Wasn’t that previously scouted?) Mark turned the troops on-right onto Soquel Drive but a back check mark was discovered 2 blocks later at Capitola Avenue. The gang turned back, well, except for Urine Cider and Virgin Susanne who staggered along a little further before deciding to rejoin us. There was a lot of sniffing that transpired here until some flour was stumbled across blocks back on Center Street. Back checks of this distance are considered rude or, to utilize some rather coarse vernacular, they are known as Prick’s Tricks.

After this conundrum was dispensed with, the pack plodded across busy Soquel Drive continuing on Center Street(which, incidentally, is NOT the center of town) and past the Congregational Church. Hashers move very quickly past a church I’ve noticed and do not look at it either. A block later, the geography of the road dictates a ninety degree on-left onto Bridge Street. The clan crossed Main Street and traipsed onto the bridge over Soquel Creek leading to Paper Mill Road. The BN mark was observed but no one could find it. As it turns out, only ONE hound was to find the goody left for us and that would be dBASED. A bag containing the liquid gold had been suspended over the side of the bridge. However, dBASED slung the bag back over the side of the bridge with such force that the carabiner holding the bag broke and sent the precious liquid plummeting into Soquel Creek. A newspaper article the next morning detailed the California Department of Fish and Wildlife’s discovery of hundreds of intoxicated fish in Soquel, California; cause under investigation. Rumor Central contends dBASED was seen slithering back to the scene of the crime after the hash in hopes of retrieving the bag and it’s contents.

An on-right onto Paper Mill Road yielded an on-left onto Oneil Lane one block later which brought the bevy to Soquel-San Jose Road which all we locals call Old San Jose Road. The gang headed on-right and soon on-left into Anna Jean Cummings Park which is locally called Blue Balls Park due to the huge blue balls that adorn it. (what were they thinkin’?!) It was through here local law enforcement was encountered. Here’s the difference between the County Sheriff’s Department and Capitola cops. It’s after sundown so the park is officially closed. What did the deputy say to us? ‘Ah, there’s run tonight, huh? Have a nice night.’ Off he went. Capitola cop would have at the LEAST run us out if not issued us citations for trespassing.

After struggling with the copious collection of stairs leading on-up to the soccer field, we were greeted by a Liquor Check that has not been destroyed by dBASED and the promised Turkey/Eagle split. We’ll squander some of our evening on the Eagle trail. It went, and I’m certain you can see this one coming, clambering the huge hills behind Soquel High School. After cresting the largest(but of course) of them, we simply fell down the other side and through a small patch of woods, across Soquel Drive, onto Robertson Road, transitioned onto Wharf Road and under Highway 1.

Not far past the Highway 1 undercrossing, the back check mark sent us reeling. After minimal sniffing, flour was discovered along a narrow path beside a private residence and a fence designed to keep people away from Soquel Creek. That fence would probably work for mortals but not hashers. Worse than trespassing, it was now drizzling. The rocks along Soquel Creek were now extremely slick. Almost no one got through here and across the creek without taking on some water. After completing the creek crossing, we invaded a small homeless encampment and emerged into a parking lot a block from the start.

Most of us began to smell an imminent end to this disaster once an on-left was made onto Porter Street. A brief, uncalled for circle jerk onto West Walnut, then Daubenbiss and back onto Porter Street was a fitting culmination to an already pointless outing. Directly across Porter the flock found Beer Check. This was rapidly dispensed with as the area is frequented by local law enforcement.

A short jaunt away is the Heart of Soquel Park and at the very back is a small cul-de-sac walkway perfect for hiding and conducting Religion. Accuprick seized the reins of control as Religious Adviser. Let’s see now. Little Anal Annie was awarded a down-down for yelling at a driver who almost ran her over as she illegally crossed busy Soquel Drive…in the dark. Puff was busted for trying to bribe the Sheriff’s Deputy to give him a lift to the top of the hill in Blue Balls Park. The two Virgins were terrified with Joke, Song or Body Part. dBASED was awarded a punitive down-down for destroying first Liquor Check after he had his fill. Other people were punished too but they did not contribute anything to the overall success of Religion so I’ve forgotten them. The hares were skewered over their trail. I truly believe Trail 936 may garner a nomination as Worst Trail of the Year for AGM next month. It’s a good thing Princess Di(arrhea) is non-compos-mentis because being sane would remove any desire she may harbor to ever hare for Surf City again. As for Thmp-Thmp, I bear him no ill will for his criminal past. I am, however, very concerned with his criminal FUTURE. And as for Teste Coil, I now fear this man may be the missing link between the pirate and the pig. That pretty much does it for Trail 936 and put it exactly where I want it to be: In my rear view mirror.

On-on-on was successfully staged at nearby Village Host Pizza. The crew appreciated the tips but probably did not enjoy cleaning up after we pigs vacated the premises. They were neutral on being serenaded with a hash song.

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-second day of October in the year of our Hash two-thousand seventeen.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff the Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe

(briefly out of retirement)

 

 

 

Hash 919

Next Hash

Hear Ye, Beer Ye!

Announcing the imminent departure of notoriously e-vile DungFu Grip. DungFu’s last(hopefully) trail for the Surf City kennel will be Thursday, July thirteenth. It should be a FRIDAY the thirteenth though really with DungFu at the helm. Trail niner-one-niner is A to B. Some people may get cold…dBASED. Some will find it difficult to shortcut this trail…dBASED. So remember where you came from so you can get the hell home. Doggies encouraged but nothing with wheels will survive the onslaught of shiggy. Cover your legs appropriately.  Water crossing, graveyard ghoulies, poison oak mostly avoidable. Technu available back at Religion. The start for this Death March will be, appropriately enough, a cemetery. Oakwood Cemetery by name, 3301 Paul Sweet Road. Someone that knows how to put a link in this announcement and cares enough to do so will. Go up Paul Sweet Road and make a sharp left when the road does, otherwise you’ll go on-up to Chaminade. After the left, looks for hashers on your left. Beer, food, beer and transportation available at Beer Check for the lucky/unlucky that actually find it. Upper Crust Pizza is open until 10PM for the rare hound that survives trail.

May the gods of the Hash have mercy on your undeserving, worthless souls,

DungFu Grip

Puff

the Magic Drag Queen

Hash 851

Uncategorized

Hello Voyeurs,
TIMMY! & Puff MDQ here. It is with great pleasure we announce that Trail 851 will begin from the Davenport Roadhouse with Religion nearby. There’s a parking lot directly across Highway 1 so large that even Hugh Heifer will be able to park without hitting anything. All bets are off though when she goes to leave. You will remain on the first tier of the coastal steppe which also means you will encounter copious quantities of poison oak and impressive stands of stinging nettles. So dig out a set of socks knee-high, or you will cry. TIMMY! & Puff will have Technu available for you after Religion…for a nominal fee. Trail may make the three mile mark but only if the hares get lost. Bring all the four-legged hounds you can find but remember they cannot enter the Roadhouse. The Roadhouse has an adequate beer selection, lots of wine choices and a hard alcohol bar too. I can’t imagine what else you’d need to know. Everything else is the standard pack of lies that hares have always used.
On-out,
TIMMY!
Puff MDQ

Getting Wrecked on Rincon Road

SCH3 Trash

Salutations,

Puff the Magic Drag Queen here, resurrected as Scribe once again. Scribe Shallow Hole was a co-hare and we learned long ago not to allow a hare to concoct the Trash for their own trail. Invariably, they sing the praises of a trail they contend will be emulated for years to come. Another of our Scribe Triad, that being the Illustrated Woman, Cock Throbbin’, is somewhere back in the sweltering East visiting her parents. Note they only wish to see her once a year and even then not for very long. That leaves naught but our flamed-headed heroine Ho To Housewife. Rumor Central has two theories as to her absence this week. First, she has reputedly contracted shingles. She is far too young for such a malady but if she were to have them it would obviously be due to her piss-poor diet. The most accepted cure for this ailment is chicken noodle soup. I have a large assortment using many varieties of that fowl creature. Respond to this Trash, H2H, and I’ll bring my favorite over. The second possible cause for her unexcused absence is said to be a STD. If this is true, we now know what she does on those nights she’s not out getting drunk with her kennel mates.

Most any disease would be preferable to having attended Trail 804 in the wilds of Henry Cowell Redwood State Park off (closed) Highway 9. We were not the only group of hoodlums assembled there though. Mountain bikers from far and wide descended on this remote outpost to destroy the environment believing no Rangers will bother driving up a closed road. We met a group from San Jose that had just completed their search-and-destroy mission and were on their way into Santa Cruz for beers. Well, at least they had SOME redeeming social value.

We had a fair-sized pack and I could only hope enough of them survived to have a decent Religion. Just Mirit has decided to forgo hashing for a year and move to Singapore. So what does she do on her last hash? Why, bring a Virgin of course. This goes to illustrate our old adage: A half of a mind is all it takes. Hot Wheels, one of dBASED’s two (known) offsprings, drove himself to the hash as he no longer wishes to be associated with his old man. In that case, Hot Wheels better get a car big enough to carry everyone in the pack with the possible exception of dBASED’s (second) wife Occasional Rapist. Cumfart Zone showed up after a missed week wearing little more than a bra above the waist. Just Tom stared off into space and just smiled. Just Nate and Just Stephanie stood around with sheepish grins on their faces trying not to doing anything extraordinarily stupid as this is their fifth hash and a naming ceremony is in their immediate future. Just Foot Pussy and Bacon Queef have returned to the fold after their honeymoon to Alaska and Hawaii. I’m certain they are now finding out what the expression ‘The honeymoon is over’ really means. Conspicuous in her absence was Princess Di(arrhea).  Thmp-Thmp was somewhat vague as to why she chose not to attend but claimed it was not a pattern to be repeated again anytime soon. Maybe she has the same ailment Ho To Housewife has contracted.

008Above we see harried hares recoiling from questions asked during Instructions of Trail.

While the pack was left unsatisfied, at least it prompted the hares to finally leave.

There can be precious little details related about trail as we simply followed the Rincon Road Trail to the depths of the San Lorenzo River Gorge. There were a number of river crossings on the Eagle Trail.016023

 

 

 

 

 

Here we see but a few of the dangerous traversals of the San Lorenzo River the clan was coerced into. As if they are not inherently dangerous enough on their own merits, you can see Cumcerto carrying the leftover from Liquor Check, a bottle she sucked on profusely herself I might add. She began swaying as if she was becoming unhinged from this earth and Just Foot Pussy flew to her rescue. Of course all he did was take the bottle from her and left her to fend for herself in the raging river.

There was poison oak aplenty. Below is the front bumper of TIMMY’s truck. Even the parking lot was inundated with this frequent visitor to the hash. We should probably give poison oak a hash name and be done with it!

 

009Beer Check, while scenic, was again marred by Dung-Fu Grip and Dog Breath shedding their clothing and splashing around like Cro Magnon man undoubtedly did when he was covered in fleas. Mercifully, we were spared the triple-header due to the absence of Sharticle Physics. Sharticle probably wouldn’t even have put his clothes on for the trip back to the start.

Speaking of the trip back to the start, it was the Turkey Trail in reverse. And, even worse, uphill damn near the entire way. I’m not sure if this illustrates poor planning or simple vindictiveness on the part of the hare-pair and I don’t really care because they both amounted to the same thing from the pack’s point of view.

Back near the start, Religion was convened with TIMMY acting as Religious Adviser and Puff the Magic Drag Queen as his Beer Fairy.

041Above we see these two ancient fools conferring as to whom should be reamed first. Ultimately, it was decided everyone in attendance showed poor judgement simply by driving way-the-hell up here so everyone deserved a down-down.

Here’s a quick down-down recap: dBASED for disappearing into the forest at the very first check and missing both Liquor Check as well as Beer Check, (how rare!); Dog Breath and Dung-Fu Grip for another of their infamous skinny-dipping expositions; Fap Jack who managed to shed blood on trail; Cumcerto received a No Life Award for completing her 75th hash with us; Just Mirit was given a farewell down-down, she’s off to Singapore to teach, I feel sorry for her students; Virgin Brad was welcomed, then we found out he’s from LA and just came up to ‘visit’ Mirit, good-bye Brad. Okay, now it’s time for Nate and Stephanie’s naming ceremony. Nate, who said pussy is his favorite food (I wonder if Stephanie knew that?) and his favorite animal is a rat (yuk!) pretty much named himself. Allow me to introduce…..

063                                                                          Rat Pussy

However, poor Stephanie. She spends so little time with her kennel mates, (she told me she’s scared of most of them) that we were unable to concoct a moniker for this little monkey so she remains…….

065                                                                   Just Stephanie

The Dreary Lass

And the hares…

091Shallow Hole and Dung-Fu Grip.

Shallow Hole received a patch for horribly haring 25 trails for us. She was told this would suffice for a long time and she need not sign up at AGM this year for so damn many trails.

 

 

On-on-on was reputedly to be at Bocci’s Cellar but the place was jammed with a country band in the restaurant and a burlesque (!) show in the outdoor dining area.

044By 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 fifteen.

On-out,

Puff the Magic Drag Queen

Acting Scribe

Surf City H3