All posts by Puff

Trail 773

Puffism

To the Ho,

Certain misconceptions apparently exist within your little half-mind pertaining to the duties of Hash Cash. Hash Cash is to flow in one dire-erection only, e.g., Take in money, NOT give it out. What do I look like, a friggin’ bank? Secondly, the Major Members of Mismanagement deemed your trail unworthy of reimbursement, consequently your begging and pleading for compensation was refused. And as far as any ‘interest’ goes, I have no interest whatsoever in paying you though I’d love to see you get what you deserve in the end…so to speak.

Toodles,

Puff MDQ

Countdown to Hash 7…6…5

SCH3 Hares

Salavations,

Consider this your final warning pertaining to Countdown Trail 7…6…5, October 2nd.

I am aware that most of you received lumps of coal for Christmas when you were children. For this trail though, Dung-Fu Grip and Puff the Magic Drag Queen will take that lump of coal you so richly deserved and press it into a diamond for you.

Beginning from Santa Cruz Mountain Brewery, your hare-pair will gift you a self-guided tour of a collection of the “less-visited/seldom-seen”, shall we term them, areas of Westside Santa Cruz. A few are difficult to find, a few no one WISHES to visit and a small number could best be described by the adjective “dangerous”. With the approach of winter, dark and (hopefully) rain, we believe it incumbent upon us to separate the wheat from the chaff, the real hashers from the fair-weather variety.

Puff has noted a serious lack of flashlights on trail this month. This trail contains a section practically non-negotiable without the assistance of a torch. This trail will feature areas fun yet challenging for dogs but damn well impossible for strollers. Length, assuming you are stupid enough to finish it and smart enough not to become lost, will tip the scales around the 3 mile mark, with the obvious exception of dBASED who will turn this pleasant jaunt into a half-marathon. There will be the standard Beer Check and Face Feed, undeserving of either though you are and will be located wherever the hell we think we can get away with it. We desire no Bacon Queef-inspired encounters with coppers. Religion will be along the tracks near Mountain Brewery. Due to trail’s inherent technical difficulty, anticipate a hares-out time close to the 6:35 markings on the clock face. As an aside, this Thursday at Mountain Brewery is a benefit for Santa Cruz Public Libraries so you may wish to have two pints prior to on-out.

Best Wishes for a speedy recovery,

Dung-Fu Grip

Puff the Magic Drag Queen

Hash 746 Announcement

SCH3 Hares

Attention!

Failure to faithfully follow these simple instructions may result in physical injury. What: Hash 746. Where: Crepe Place, 1134 Soquel Av. When? Thursday, June 5, hares-out @ 6:40.  Trail length: around 3 miles. Turkey/Eagle split? Yes. Dog? Yes, please. Strollers? No bloody way. Religion? Dung-Fu Grip & Puff’s place. On-on-on: Double-Oh & Mexican joint across the street.  What more do ya need to know?!?

Hash 745 Hades Hills from Hell

SCH3 Trash

Greetings out there in voyeur land,

 

Puff the Magic Drag Queen here. Puff has been coerced into becoming acting Scribe due to neither Pink Cherry Licker or Occasional Rapist showing snout at this week’s hash. PCL claimed she had a job function to perform. Since when did working take priority over hashing? And as for our Rapist friend, she said after her trip to the Dominican Republic, she’s “tired of people”. If we were to substitute the word “dBASED” for the word “people”, I think we’d be far closer to the truth. Lastly, it was decided the third side of the scribing triangle,  Shallow Hole, should not be allowed to scribe her own trail. Funny thing but when Scribes are hares, and visa versa, their trail was stupendous and has set a new standard for hashing. We learned this in the olde days when Puff was Scribe and did the writeup when he hared.

Mercifully, as almost all of this trail consisted of off-roading, Puff will have very little to write. Even more, trail was an unholy terror best forgotten by the few that hashed it and should not be added to the memory of those that (wisely) skipped it.

Point A was a parking lot on Green Hills Road. A very pleasant name for a really horrible area. Things started poorly. Most of the pack arrived long before Beermistress Hugh Heifer came careening in. Hounds raided Beer Check beer from co-hare Shallow Hole until Hugh’s beer wagon arrived. Last hound to arrive, Dog Breath, searched his car and discovered he’d neglected to bring shorts. Hugh said, “Oh, I’ve got plenty of men’s clothing under the seat in my truck!” Wisely, no one asked why. Right now you may be thinking, “That worked out great!” Remember though, this is the hash and we’re talking about Dog Breath. Here’s the scene that unfolded. Dog Breath dropped his jeans and got into Hugh’s shorts, so to speak, without bothering to hide his white butt behind his car. Yes, Dog Breath changed clothes right in front of the entire horrified pack. Not an especially auspicious beginning to a hash, was it?

Instructions of Trail were completed as soon as Shallow Hole noticed no one was bothering to listen. The hares then outed themselves but not in the direction of trail head. This is another thing I don’t like, dBASED deciding to “blaze his own trail”.  This, too, frequently portends potential problems for the pack. The only thing that really gets “blazed” are the poor bastards that have to follow him.

008Seen above is on-out with Just Jeremiah and Just Marisol leading the litter. Sadly, their energy level would decrease dramatically over the course of trail. Soon after this, there was some confusion as to trail direction. A number of hounds returned to Green Hills Road but then turned back on-left through a business parking lot, into the woods and onto a fire road. Broke Bench Mountain was seen about this time but said a recent foot injury would prevent him from hashing this trail. This being a dBASED trail, what the hell was he expecting?!? He was not seen again though I bet had Hugh inventoried her beer trough, she’d find Broke Bench may have paid it a visit before he left!

010 The picture above is indicative of the hill-hell that was Hash 745. There is little else I need to say about it nor does it DESERVE any more to be said of it. There were a number of these huge hills, each and every one lined with poison oak. PO, not being a fan of too much water, has exploded onto the scene in this third year of drought. Trail featured precious few checks as there was nowhere-else-the-hell-to-go. Liquor Check also turned out to be a YBF as backtracking was required to locate trail after it. A curmudgeon-hiker was encountered who refused to acknowledge our presence. Many sections of this poorly-maintained trail featured ankle-twisting crevices, rocks to be dealt with and low hanging tree branches that threatened to pull out handfuls of hair.         The picture above is not one of the Wee Folk but a doll found at the site for Beer Check. There were a number of these curious curios in redwood stumps scattered about.  Their purpose and origin remain unknown.

Th pack had spread out like butter in a frying pan. It was a good twenty-plus minutes from FRB to DFL. It was beginning to get dark when the last, lost and lonely hounds came in off the mountain. Beer Check was quickly adjourned then Religion convened back at Point A.

Accuprick assumed the reins and appointed Cumcerto his Beer Fairy. Dog Breath was punished for mooning the pack. Jeremiah and Marisol were punished as back sliders. Cumcerto and Dung-Fu Grip were made a laughing stock for sliding backwards on trail almost as much as they moved forward. Chip and Jeremiah were chided for peeing along trail. Until tonight, I had not been aware mandatory biological functions were a criminal act. Well, leave it to Accuprick to insure everyone receives their fair share of abuse justified or not. Chip was awarded a down-down for being such a motivational cheerleader along trail and TIMMY for nominating him. TIMMY remained at the altar and was treated to a rousing chorus of Get a life! for the completion of his 425th has with us. Shallow Hole was congratulated for surviving la vida loco another year. Again she claimed it to be her 29th birthday. If one hare drinks, they ALL drink so dBASED joined her. Both remained at the altar to suffer the slings and arrows of an outraged pack  over this trail.

On-on-on was at Salsa’s Mexican restaurant but was only attended by Cumcerto, who continued drinking, Dog Breath, who mercifully kept his clothes on, TIMMY, already in the cups and consequently refrained from his usual whiskey and your acting Scribe.

That’s pretty much it for Trail 745. I will now return to my search for signs of intelligent life in Santa Cruz.

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 June in the year of our Hash two-thousand and fourteen.

With all respect due,

Puff the Magic Drag Queen

Acting Scribe

Surf City H3

 

Hash 726

SCH3 Announcements

Details, details, details.

All you REALLY need to know is the start for Hash 726 is the Crepe Place. However, knowing some of you half-minds will find that insufficient, I’ll impart a few other useless details in your direction. It’s going to be cold Thursday night so trail will be short. There is no poison oak encounter planned. Religion will be at Dung-Fu Grip and Puff’s cave but Beer Check will not. Four-legged as well as two-legged hounds are welcome.

That should be enough even for the most simple-minded among you.

-Puff-

Hash Trash 708: A Full Moon Swoon Yields a Downtown Disaster

SCH3 Trash

Hello Voyeurs,

Puff the Magic Drag Queen here pulling double-duty this week due to Princess Di(arrhea) purportedly being ill. Funny thing though, I heard she was down in Monterey for Can’d H3’s 69th hash on Saturday.

Scribing for Trail 707 would have been more enjoyable enabling me to give Dung-Fu Grip the reaming he so royally deserved after another of his infamous Death Marches, this one surpassing his other as it was in the dark…beneath towering redwoods…miles from civilization.

However, instead Puff has been saddled with recapping Twisted Fister and The Human Pube’s failed attempt at trail-laying.

Speaking of those two jokers, here they are with Fister delivering Instructions of Trail while The Human Pube is making last minute adjustments to a trail they probably already felt certain would be less than stellar. In THAT, at least, they were correct.

 

We started at Woodstock Pizza on Front Street, a first for Surf City. The grub and libations available may dictate a return visit here someday though. As soon as the hares outed, the mob returned to the fierce socializing we are so noted for. 

 

 

 

Speaking of socializing, pictured above are two prodigal harriettes that returned to the fold this week. On the left is Phyllis Driller and on the right is Wet Feral Pussy. They have been absent from our company too long but say they’ve seen the error of their ways and now know they’ll never be anything better than hashers.

After the passage of sufficient time for the hares to screw this trail up, circleup was convened with 22 hounds in the parking lot out of the hearing range of young ears.

After introductions were completed. the pack outed north on Front Street and discovered the first check at Cooper Street. Having been warned to avoid flour on Pacific, chalk took the troops down Cooper to Pacific, left on Pacific and then a quick right onto Church Street. As we passed Louie’s Cajun Kitchen and Bourbon Bar, Louie himself came out to make sure we knew ‘our kind’ is not welcome in his fine establishment. I made sure he knew we’ve been kicked out of far nicer places than his and we cancelled the gorilla beer check we’d planned for there.

We continued along Church Street until making a right on Chestnut Street and , mercifully, passing both the train tunnel and the hideous hill known as Green Street. We were, however, forced to deal with the seemingly never-ending stairs that go to the top of Mission Hill.

       Above you see Hugh Heifer and Phyllis Driller dealing with these accursed stairs.

Once to Mission Street, things degenerated rapidly into a comedy of errors. The pack universally turned on-left. Mission Street was checked as was the end of High Street at the pedestrian bridge over Highway 1. Finding nothing there, a few hounds went down School Street to check the stairs leading on-down to North Pacific. They had no luck either. After sufficient double-checking and whining was performed, we mental midgets finally deduced trail went down Mission towards the Town Clock. And yes, trail was found there and then on-left on North Pacific and on-left onto River Street. As you know, River Street is the main thoroughfare for our local hobo population to travel to and from the Homeless Shelter just across Highway 1. As darkness was beginning to fall, they were out in large numbers. Many of them passed us mumbling to themselves or looking at us like they thought we were crazy! Trail turned on-left on Mora Street. Heading on-up Mora, we encountered a person of dubious character who informed us the guy with the flour bag turned on-right at the top of Mora. That being said, if the hare had gone LEFT at that intersection he’d have run into the pack lost at Holy Cross Church so no one thought the hare-pair had turned in that direction anyway!

Mora morphs into Potrero Street after making said on-right and part way down Potrero a hare arrow pointed the pod on-left into the Old Sash Mill.

 

 

 

 

 

While many thought this a circle jerk, no one wished to miss one of the promised multiple Beer Checks so one and all turned into the place. Sure enough, first Beer Check was found in the parking lot…as was one of the hares!

The Human Pube jumped into his truck and left saying, There’s an on-in trail and possibly one more Beer Check! Hmmm. How can the hares not know if there’s a second Beer Check?!? Oh, well. I guess that’s in keeping with the uncertainty this trail has offered so far anyway. If you thought the jaunt down River Street was ill-advised, there’s one place worse than well-traveled River Street: The friggin’ levee! Yep, well past dark this cruel hare-pair led the litter along the levee all the way to Religion on the top floor of the parking structure on the corner of River Street and River Street South. When we arrived we found the hares parked fifty feet from Hugh Heifer’s Beermobile and holding second Beer Check there! Hounds thought they were in hog heaven with a Beer Check to the left and the beer trough to the right!

Once the confusion over two available beer supplies was sorted out, Religion was convened. dBASED called last week’s hare, Dung-Fu Grip to the altar was a punitive down-down for causing Surf City to be the cause of (another) anthrax scare, this one on campus due to his haphazard, careless spreading of flour over Core Campus last Thursday. After this task was dispensed with Dung-Fu Grip was installed as acting Religious Adviser. His first act was to appoint Dog Breath as his Beer Fairy.

Pictured above is Dog Breath. Do not go out drinking with this man on a Saturday night!

Also awarded down-downs was Twat Did You Say? who, even after all these years of hashing, confused the hash terms ‘DFL’ and ‘FRB’; The Human Pube for toking up (and not sharing) in circleup; Wet Feral Pussy as a backslider (Phyllis Driller was lost-along-trail somewhere); Deep Stroke (Yes, still here) and Can’d H3’s Just Bobby for offering piss-poor name suggestions for Just Anne (this was her fifth hash). Speaking of Just Anne, sadly, she will remain Just Anne until at least her next hash. Yes, we were unsuccessful in coming up with the rude moniker she so richly deserves.

On-on-on was back at Woodstock where the festivities went on until almost 11PM.

Thursday the twenty-sixth presents the pack with a quandary. Six of Nine has volunteered to hare his first trail for us…maybe. Acting RA Dung-Fu Grip gave Six an ultimatum though: If Trail Announcement is not posted by 8AM Monday, Dung-Fu promises to take over haring duties. How’s THAT for a fate worse than death?!?

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 September in the year of our Hash two-thousand thirteen.

On-out,

Puff

the

Magic

Drag

Queen