Hash 1166 Krampus cramps

SCH3 Trash

Greetings,

In preparation for tonight’s annual invasion of the FHAC-U, I wish to remind you how tragic last week’s trail was so you will not hate the trip over-the-hill so much. I doubt anyone enjoys challenging Highway 17 at any time and even more so on a dark Winter evening.

So, we begin this post-Hallowe’en tale-of-terror from the (Nasty) Asti. Those of you not comatose during your visits there may have taken note of the following upgrades: more lighting, the floor has been cleaned to the point your no longer risk having your shoes yanked off when moving about, the alcohol posters on the wall promoting your alcoholism have been cleaned to the point you can actually read them and the bar has been replaced with light-colored pine lacquered making it far less bacteria-infested than previously. Sadly, most of the denizens that frequent this old(est. 1938) watering hole still continue to infiltrate.

Note the lighting and (relative) cleanliness of the ‘upgraded’ Asti

The area farthest from the door was commandeered by the pack. This aided us in 1) seeing what manner of creature entered the establishment and 2) somewhat protected us from the chill night air of early December. This also served to make socializing an easier commodity.

Around the announced time of 6.66,(translated? Oh, say 6:39PM) Dung-Fu Grip(von Krampus) and Baker’s Dozen’t(Herr Krampus) slithered forward to spew forth Instructions of Trail. I would recount them but I, like everyone else I looked at, completely ignored them as these two jokers are well-know prevaricators. 

Co-hares Dung-Fu Grip(von Krampus, sporting new facial hair adornment) and Baker’s Dozen’t(Herr Krampus)

After this week’s clown pair exited, socializing was reinstituted. This may have proceeded indefinitely had someone not inquired of our GM’s when they intended to call for Circleup for Introductions. This was another part of their leaning curve for GM-ship. This is, however, a vast improvement over last week at least where neither of them showed up at all leaving the pack floundering on the rocks with no leadership at all.

On-out was on-left an entire half block until a check at Pacific Avenue and Laurel. Trail was discovered continuing on Pacific to Birch Lane where an on-left was indicated taking us past the extinct Poet and Patrior Irish Pub and to Cedar Street. Here we were lucky enough to find Liquor Check prior to it’s being sniffed out by any of the local residents that reside in the bushes outside Kumba Jazz Center.

Liquor Check outside Kumba Jazz Center

After Liquor Check was dealt with it was on-right on Cedar Street, on-left on Elm and one block later on-right on Center Street and past Puff’s (mercifully) gated apartment building. Then we took a turn on-left onto New Street and an on-right onto private property of Lincoln Court. The Lincoln Court units were built in the mid-twenties, almost a century ago. That’s really old, it’s even a few years before Surf City Senile Senior Citizen TIMMY!! was constructed. 

Yellow Prick Load, Just Jennie and Six of Nine defile Lincoln Court with their trespassing. Note the small rat-like creature following Jennie

Once safely completed the trespassing of Lincoln Court, it was on-left on Lincoln Street to Chestnut Street where a solved check pointed the pod on-right. Chestnut was utilized past the train tunnel under Mission Hill, on-right on Cedar Street and on-left on Plaza Lane which brought us to Pacific where an on-right was quickly followed by an on-left onto Cooper and eventually taking us through the Galleria and across the pedestrian bridge rising above the flaccid San Lorenzo River. Through San Lorenzo Park we motivated, on-right on Dakota Street and just prior to Branciforte Creek, an arrow directed us on-right back into the park and on-left over the creek and onto the river levee walkway. This was taken to Riverside Avenue where we were turned on-right to the Boardwalk side of the river. Once safely across, the gang was directed on-left onto Third Street and then on-right on Kaye Street. We’re now right in the heart of gang territory, I hope no one wore red for the Christmas season, it may prove a fatal mistake. The local Surenos abhor the color red and use it for target practice.   

We’re now passing the Beach Flats Park and transition to Raymond Street which brings us to Beach Street. Marker made us on-up the small hill onto the grounds of the lonely Boardwalk and on-right once there.

Closed and lonely this year, no ice skating rink

We cruised along the length on the Boardwalk to Cliff Street and were pointed on-right and past the Boardwalk Bowl, site of many fun Hash events in the past. Cliff was used until Third Street where a solved check turned the troops on-left. Not long after passing Golden Gate Villa, which, incidentally, has an intriguing history, our highly coveted BN mark was observed and at the top of the now closed locals-only shortcut back to Pacific, Beer Check was staged.

Beer Check atop Beach Hill overlooking downtown Santa Cruz

Business concluded here, on-in was back past Golden Gate Villa and on-left onto Cliff Street where the treacherous wet metal steps gave access to Laurel Street Extension and ultimately to Religion location behind Wheel Works tire store.  Once libations and packages of Vitamin J, AKA junk food, were distributed, Pink Cherry Licker assumed the role of dominatrix and convened the herd for Religion. Here’s a smattering of down-downs she distributed: Cum You Will Not for saying shelter would be required for Religion this cold night, our GM’s for not knowing they are responsible to run the pack out of the bar for on-out, our visitors from the FHAC-U were honored, Carlos Danger was chided for her backsliding ways, Carlos Danger was recognized for completing her 50th hash with us, Puff the Magic Drag Queen was mocked for completing his 1150th hash with us. That’s about it…oh, wait. The accursed hare-pair. The RA conducted a fruitless search for a fistful of birch rods with which to punish these bad children. Sadly, they were merely verbally abused by an ungrateful pack and awarded punitive down-downs.  

Co-GM Broke Bench Mountain tell RA Pink Cherry Licker he had no idea he was responsible to get the pack out of the bar for on-out

Visitors from the FHAC-U were welcomed
RA Pink Cherry Licker punished Carlos Danger for backsliding and then awards he a patch for her 50th hash

The accursed hare-pair, Dung-Fu Grip(von Krampus ) and Baker’s Dozen’t(Herr Krampus)

The RA, sensing she was losing control of the herd, declared Hash 1166 to be over and dismissed the pack. That also signals the end to this Hash Trash…with one unjustified addendum. Rumor Control contends Yellow Prick Load, Today Is Monday and Drink and Squirt were later witnessed continuing to swill-away at Abbott Square.

The preceding was a factual accounting of actual events though possibly not as they actually occurred. One should never let the facts stand in the way of a good story.

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 sixteenth day of December in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-one.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe

 

Hash 1164 Beer Check Paradise

SCH3 Trash
Beer Check at Marty Mechanic Beach

Greetings,

In preparation for what will undoubtedly be a very trying trail today, let’s relive the splendor of last week’s Turkey Trot Trail. Well, more specifically the glory of Beer Check, trail itself will be glossed over very quickly.

We began with a sojourn at venerable Over-the-Hill Gang Saloon. While it will never be quite the same place without Mitzi, the swinging doors still operate smoothly and without a telltale squeak revealing their advanced years. When moving, they make far fewer disturbing noises than Surf City Senile Senior Citizen TIMMY!!

We had an exceptional turnout only magnified by some hashers from over-the-hill; Today Is Monday, Yellow Prick Load, Shanghiney, Missile Anus and Dual Tools. Mr. Wiggly came up from Can’d H3- Monterey dragging the only offspring of which he is aware, Little Miss Can’t Say No! We saw some Surf City backsliders but we’ll deal with those jokers on a one-on-one basis during Religion.

Hare-pair Steamy Baanorrhea and Occasional Rapist delivered a promising tale of Instructions of Trail. Sadly, I noted very few of their promises were fulfilled. They then outed…in opposite directions which is always a red flag to the pack. After deciding we really should do trail, co-GM’s Broke Bench Mountain and Cumz Out My Nose circled the clan for introductions.  

Co-GM’s Broke Bench Mountain and Cumz Out My Nose call for circleup

Responding barks were detected from the following hounds: Wicked Retahted, Pink Cherry Licker, Dung-Fu Grip, Accuprick, Jizziki, Just Holly(still), Underwhere?, Cum You Will Not, Thmp-Thmp, Princess Di(arrhea), Six of Nine, Hugh Heifer, Leaky Rubber, Shanghiney, Shallow Hole, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, Banana Basher, Bailas Con Burros, Missile Anus, Chippin’ Ballz, Just Jennie, Baker’s Dozen’t, Yellow Prick Load, Today Is Monday, Dual Tools(Up My Ass), Mr. Wiggly, Cumfart Zone, Little Miss Can’t Say No! and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. A respectable number of unrespectable people. 

Mass confusion right from the get-go as most waited for the direction of true trail to be discovered after the hare-pair split up at the start.

Complacently awaiting the discovery of true trail


After the correct direction was ascertained, the clan charged east on Portola Drive but soon discovered a check at 38th Avenue. This was soon solved and sent the pod prancing on-left on 38th to another check at Blue and Gold Star Mobile Home Park. This was solved and, no surprise here, the troops were taken to the tracks and turned on-left. No mater how much you dislike trotting on tracks, try to keep reminding yourself, I hate sand more, I hate sand more… A decent distance along the railroad tracks, FRB’s Underwhere? and Baker’s Dozen’t met up with a ‘fish hook’. No, not the kind fishermen use but the kind employed by vindictive, small-minded hares in an effort to insure they are not snared. As you know, the FRB’s to a fish hook take the alcohol from the fish hook and ever-so-kindly deliver it to the DFL’s. How rude!

 

Underwhere? and Baker’s Dozen’t were hooked by a fish hook

Along the tracks we plodded until we arrived at a desolate industrial district at the end of Thompson Avenue. This was deemed an ugly enough area by the hares so we peeled off on-right until Brommer Street where an on-left was indicated which would soon bring the gang to 30th Avenue where another on-left was dictated. This would instigate the long and laborious undertaking of 30th until it FINALLY comes to Portola Drive where this whole fiasco was initiated oh-so-long ago. After the dangerous crossing of busy four-land Portola, we simply continued plodding the dreariness of 30th.


As we arrived at Moran Lake Trail, a hare arrow directed the drove on-right onto said trail and to traipse such to East Cliff Drive.

Moran Lake, AKA Moron Lake, as it’s stinkiest, lowest ebb

Once we rounded the horn of Moran Lake, we passed Moran Way and came to East Cliff Drive where the dangerous crossing of such was undertaken. Once across we headed on-right to South Palisades Avenue which is an on-left circle-jerk and brought us right back to East Cliff Drive. Once there was an on-right followed by another quick on-right onto Rockview Drive. Just prior to the terminus of the road, a narrow locals-only led the litter on-left onto the beach locally and colloquially called Marty Mechanic Beach. Marty was, well, a local mobile mechanic who surfed here for years and frequently eschewed donning a wet suit. 

Princess Di(arrhea) and Occasional Rapist survey the scene above the dedication plaque for Marty Mechanic Beach 


Steamy Baanorrhea welcomes hounds to Beer Check and also makes sure Banana Basher does not empty the cooler

Beer Check was a multifaceted affair. Hashers draining beers, standing on rocks daring Monterey Bay to assault them, fiercely socializing, taking videos. The Flash will be a better chronicler of these activities than this Scribe.

The pack must have appeared intimidating to any mortals that breached our boundary

After the waste of sufficient time, the GM’s moved us along to Casa de Wicked Retahted back on 30th Avenue. Once there, in addition to Religion, there was some serious tree climbing to be had.


Missile Anus displays some of the more primitive human skills by scaling a tree like a common monkey

Accuprick convened Religion, here’s a sampling of down-downs distributed: Shallow Hole was unable to attend AGM so she was now presented a gift for her service as treasurer; visitors were recognized, Bailas Con Burros was presented an award for (finally!) completing her 100th hash with us, Leakey Rubber for fanning himself during Religion as if it’s a hundred degrees, Chippin’ Ballz for having to remove much of her turkey outfit in order to use the bathroom, Just Jennifer for complaining she’d anticipated seeing body parts at her first hash and saw none. (Ed. note: SHE went the joke route herself rather than flashing)

Accuprick awards Bailas Con Burros her award for her 100th hash with us

And the hares…Steamy Baanorrhea and Occasional Rapist. They were thanked for a scenic Beer Check location but reminded it was in actuality absolutely none of their doing.


Co-hares Steamy Baanorrhea and Occasional Rapist

With the hares dispensed with, RA Accuprick declared Hash 1164 to be over and so is this Hash 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.

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 second day of December in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-one.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe


Hash 1163 A Callahan’s-job

SCH3 Trash
A final salute to Trail 1163

Salutations,

The above picture graphically summarizes the pack’s opinion of Trail 1163. While it would be both redundant and unnecessary, possibly even vindictive, to pile on further insults to the hare-pair that unleashed this misery upon us, I deem them more than deserving of such so will consequently proceed with this Trash.

We began the evening with a silly sojourn at a former old favorite, Callahan’s. We haven’t been here in quite a while and there have been some actual improvements. That being said, it’s difficult to concoct a more dreary unpleasant environment that the previous incarnation. It’s not as dark as previously so when you trip over someone passed out on the floor, you now know whether to say, Excuse me, SIR or Excuse me, MA’AM. The back room, formerly used only for clandestine, alcohol-fueled sexual encounters and the naming of Cold Smegma Kamikaze, is now brightly lit and open for business. The too-small room formerly home to a pool table now has a living room feel, albeit a small one, with the pool table moved to the aforementioned back room. The sound system, the prior one consisting mainly of the moans and weeping of the patrons,(and the occasional Yip! of ecstasy from the darkened back room) is now one of state-of-the-art where you can call up almost any tune you remember. Sadly, this can sometimes contribute to the same moans and weeping of patrons that formerly filled this space. Be that as it may, all things considered, these changes should be considered improvements. The area out the back door, formerly only fenced for Red Dress, appears now to be a permanent addition thanks to the City loosening restrictions due to the arrival of the pandemic. This, too, should be considered an improvement as the smell of stale smoke has not completely vanished from the interior of the building. While this was a pleasant change from what most of us expected to find here, remember NONE of these improvements are to the credit of our hare-pair.

Speaking of the dastardly-duo, here they are in their gory-glory most likely conferring on last minute adjustments to their trail prompted by seeing who has shown up for the hash.     

Hare-pair Broke Bench Mountain and Cumz Out My Nose confer on last minute trail ‘adjustments’

The hares delivered an astoundingly magnanimous Instructions of Trail barely short of claiming, And everyone will live happily ever after! I do not believe it was universally believed though as a few hashers were seen covering their mouth as Broke Bench droned on and the ones that were able to stomach his entire dissertation were seen immediately plummeting headfirst to the bar at it’s conclusion with most opting for a double-anything, on-the-rocks and make it quick. That’s paraphrased, not an exact quote, poetic license if you will.

After hares-out, with no GM’s present, last year’s co-GM Baker’s Dozen’t stepped forward to give the Chalk Talk to Virgins Bianca and Jennie. As a personal observation, I took note of the fact both virgins are unmarried females and Baker’s is an unmarried male. You make the call. As an aside to this, I also saw that Dicky Wacker, whom has hashed for decades prior and has over sixty hashes with us, attended said Chalk Talk. I would surmise he’s grown weary of getting lost within sight of Beer Check.      

Baker’s Dozen’t delivers the Chalk Talk to Virgin Bianca, Dicky Wacker(!) and Virgin Jennie

 

 Upon the passage of fifteen minutes, give or take, Accuprick signaled for Circleup for Introductions and heard form the following hounds: Occasional Rapist, Baker’s Dozen’t, Dicky Wacker, Dung-Fu Grip, Just Holly, Wicked Retahted, Banana Basher, Steamy Baanorrhea, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, Leaky Rubber, TIMMY!!, dBASED, International House of Pussy, Cum You Will Not, Chippin’ Ballz, Virgin Bianca, Virgin Jennie and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. The stage is set and the actors have taken their places. Let the play begin.

The recounting of this trail will prove far shorter than trail itself…mercifully.

On-out was a walk through the parking lot to May Avenue where a soon solved check turned the troops on-right to Hubbard Street where the promised Turkey/Eagle split was encountered. The Turkeys appear headed for Grant Street Park, let’s follow the Eagles and see what evil the hares will toss their way.

The Eagles were pointed on-left onto Hubbard to Ocean Street. A relatively easy, if not safe, crossing of Ocean and the Eagles headed south, literally as well as figuratively. A hare arrow pointed the pod on-right onto Blaine Street and past the former abode of Twat Did You Say?, now a San Diego harriette. We also passed the County Jail. All the hashers I saw tip-toed as they passed. As the end of Blaine, we were turned on-right onto Villamar Way which is a pretty fancy name for what is little more than a paved stretch of dirt leading to parking lots for low-end apartment buildings that exist only by the grace of the river levee that keeps the mighty San Lorenzo moving on her straight and narrow path to Monterey Bay.

Nearing Kennan Street, a locals-only pathway leads on-up to the crest of the river levee and so we went and executed an on-right. This section of the levee, the one leading to Hell’s Alley in the colloquial, is only marginally safe for human creatures in the daylight. Once the sun abandons it and the creatures of the night take possession, it’s a good idea to make sure your health insurance is up-to-date before traversing this region. Steamy Baanorrhea moved through this area so quickly he could have been given a speeding ticket where he on a public road.

Once safely to Felker Street, and it’s not truly safe, marker pointed us to Ocean Street and across to Grant Street where we passed Grant Street Park and rejoined the Turkeys. To this day, I wonder how the Turkeys passed through Grant Street Park, the gate I saw was locked.

From here it was apparent we would progress to the opposite side of Highway 1. To that end, we used Grant Street to an on-left onto Berry Street, on-right onto Avalon Street followed by an on-left onto Emeline Street and under Highway 1 and then on-right onto Lee Street. As Scribe approached the Market-Lee Walkway, he beheld a frightening sight, three people under Highway 1 peering at the contents of a pack on the back of a bicycle. I assumed they were not looking at a new litter of kittens either.

Just as your Scribe approached, one of them looked up and asked what all the running was about. We’re running for beer! was my response. Apparently, whatever commodity was contained in the container was preferable to following me so I was allowed to pass unscathed. Trail proceeded around the apartment complex, which incidentally is home to old harriette Phyllis Driller, and came to an intersection where an on-right would cross Branciforte Creek and take you to Market Street and an on-left would bring you to Market Street. Apparently, our hare-pair did not believe trail has been long enough so we were off to Market Street and once there made an on-left still heading away from our starting point. 

Market Street was abused until Goss Avenue where an on-right took the troops on-up and across Branciforte Avenue and then on-right onto Gilbert Lane which makes a ninety-degree on-left and morphs into Rooney Street. If you travel far enough along Rooney, you’ll plop into the backyard of Pink Cherry Licker and Fap Jack, both of whom were conveniently home.

Beer Check staged at the abode of Pink Cherry Licker and (second) husband Fap Jack


It was here that Beer Check was staged. Due to the close proximity of neighbors, the pandemonium was kept to a dull roar. We also most certainly did not wish to attract the attention of one next door neighbor in particular, that being Pee Skool, lest she slither next door and join us.

While there was an on-in trail marked, there were a number of free-form avenues explored. Your Scribe and Dicky Wacker did so but eventually intercepted True Trail on Berkeley Way. From there it was across Branciforte Creek on the pedestrian bridge, on-left onto Market Street and directly across Water Street into the medical complex called 550 Water. There, at the very back hidden from prying eyes, Accuprick convened Religion.

A few of the down-downs were as follows.


Term-limited out GM’s Dung-Fu Grip and Baker’s Dozen’t were presented with the compensatory packages

RA Accuprick details Joke, song or Body Part options to Virgins Jennie and Bianca



RA Accuprick presents Chippin’ Ballz’ with an award patch for her 169th hash with us 


And the hares…Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain

There were a number of other down-downs but they did not prove consequential to the overall success of this hash.

That pretty much wrapped up Hash 1163 and that pretty much wraps us 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.

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-third day of November in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-one.

Submitted with all respect due,


Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe



Hash 1162-AGM ’21

SCH3 Trash

Greetings,

       And welcome to your twenty-first AGM party. I apologize that such will be tempered by our hare-pair being that of Baker’s Dozen’t, notorious sex fiend, and Dung-Fu Grip, AKA The Running Man. These two peas in the same pod do not portend of a successful trail but, hey, it’s AGM and we’re at the venerable Jury Room which has a history of questionable denizens starting with Edmund Kemper in the early seventies and the house speciality, The Giant Gopher. Uh, that refers to a drink, not a burrowing creature the bane of all gardeners.

One of the few true dive bars still in operation in Santa Cruz

Okay, the stage is set for this playful play to begin and all the characters, and I DO mean characters, have taken their places on the stage. We were able to renew a number of old acquaintances; especially The Arabian Goggler, Today Is Monday and their chauffeur, Yellow Prick Load. They journeyed from over-the-hill together and, hopefully, will leave the same way. Deadliest Snatch and (starter) husband Rat Pussy resurfaced after a long absence. They’ve been hibernating for some unknown reason. We witnessed the presence of Bareback Unicrack. Now that she’s moved back to Santa Cruz, we never see her here. Jizziki made the jaunt up from his castle in Monterey and regaled us with tales of his new job. Apparently, the road leading to it has been allowed to deteriorate to the point many patrons, Jizziki among them, regularly drive off the road and onto the golf course through which the road runs. Pee Skool was in attendance but I knew better than to ask her what she’s been doing as it’s guaranteed to be embarrassing and cause any decent person to blush multiple shades of pink. I would mention Ska-Skank Redemption came down from the Peninsula but she has a better attendance record that many of us that live here. Amazingly, Dicky Wacker was able to locate us. Frequently, even with the help of his phone’s GPS, he becomes lost once he leaves his Beach Hill abode.

The players have all taken their places and the two protagonists in this escapade will deliver Instructions of Trail and allow us to return to the REAL reason we’re all here and it sure ain’t listening to these two jokers drone on all bloody evening.     

Baker’s Dozen’t and Dung-fu Grip, one large lying pair of hares

So, hares away, out of sight and almost out of mind as well. Though a tragic trail looms large in our future, we choose to ignore such until it becomes absolutely positively time for this organization to on-out. Zero hour though did arrive and responding barks were heard from the following attending hounds: Pink Cherry Licker, TIMMY!!!, Banana Basher, dBASED, Today Is Monday, Just Holly(will she EVER be named?!?), L’eggs, Wicked Retahded, Cum You Will Not, Occasional Rapist, Six of Nine, Yellow Prick Load, Bareback Unicrack, Ska-Skank Redemption, Cumz Out My Nose, Dicky Wacker, Broke Bench Mountain, Snake Me Anywhere, Underwhere?, Thmp-Thmp, Princess Di(arrhea), Steamy Baanorrhea, Rat Pussy, Deadliest Snatch, Jizziki, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, Arabian Goggler, Pee Skool and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. There’s the list of actors, the field is set, the die cast. Off we go.

Occasional Rapist, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, Thmp-Thmp and Wicked Retahted show the appropriate method of hashing this trail: Walking!!

The appropriate description of this trail will be dispensed. From the Jury Room the troops turned on-right on Ocean Street to Water Street where an on-right was indicated. Let’s just fast forward up the Water Street hill, nothing of importance occurred between Ocean Street and Branciforte Avenue. Oh, I guess there may have been a check or some other pointless hash mark prior to Branciforte Avenue but, just as were our hares, these were universally ignored and the pod plodded forward. 

Once the hideous hill on Water Street was defeated, marker made the merry memebers of this madness on-right onto Branciforte Avenue and traipse trail to Soquel Avenue where yet another on-right was dictated. We sense a pattern developing here. We feel we are circling the block and are on our way back to whence we began this folly. Just prior to heading on-down the Soquel Avenue hill to Ocean Street, a large hare arrow pointed the pod on-right into the parking lot behind Branciforte Plaza. Once safely ensconced in the darkened rear of the lot, our highly-favored Beer Near mark was observed.

Thmp-Thmp, The Arabian Goggler, Wicked Retahted and Six of Nine slither into Beer Check

There, just across the street in the shadow of the monolithic mansion and former abode of Last Call Norm and her forever-husband Pearl Necklace, Beer Check was staged. Pardon the digression but this is just beside the office where old hasher Phyllis Driller works. As an even deeper digression, your Scribe ran into Phyllis on Pacific Avenue Sunday afternoon. She claims to miss us and will attempt to visit sometime. Health issues have prevented an appearance of late. Before nervous owners of nearby Ristorante Italiano call local constabulary, we made an exit back to Soquel Avenue and made the anticipated on-right to Ocean Street where another on-right was indicated which motivated one-and-all into a galloping gait on-back to The Jury Room.

Steamy Baanorrhea and Occasional Rapist get up-close-and-personal after Beer Check while Baker’s Dozen’t chuckles gleefully

Once back to the start, food was dispersed and dutifully dispensed with in short order. This paved the way for combination Religion and announcement of next year’s victims…uh, I mean Mismanagement and their associated peripherals.

I’ll breeze through this as only those that were appointed care and there’s nothing those poor bastards can do to change it now.

GM’s: Broke Bench Mountain and Cumz Out My Nose (let’s see if the marriage survives THIS!!!)

Hare Raiser: Occasional Rapist

Haberdasher: Wicked Retahted

Social Sec: Cum You Will Not

Religious Advisers: Accuprick, Pink Cherry Licker and Dung-Fu Grip with dBASED as a last resort

Treasurer: Dung-fu Grip and Shallow Hole(who is THAT?)

Hash Cash/Hash Flash/Scribe: Puff the Magic Drag Queen(only Mental Midget half-minded enough to accept) 

Fare-thee-well and thanks to outgoing GM’s Dung-Fu Grip and Baker’s Dozen’t and…

And hello to new GM’s Broke Bench Mountain and Cumz Out My Nose…and may the gods of the Hash show them mercy

The announcement of this year’s victims pretty much put the cap on this year’s AGM and that pretty much does the same for this Trash recap. Apparently Puff will be visiting with you weekly for the next year though. Wait till I find out who the sob was that stuffed the ballot box with my name….

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.

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 seventeenth day of November in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-one.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe


Hash 1161-Red Dress!

SCH3 Trash
Red Dress from the Red Room. But where else?!?

Welcome to the abbreviated Red Dress 2021. For the second consecutive year, COVID has cramped our style. Fearing a super-spreader event, Red Dress has regressed back to Thursday from super-Saturday. Even so, forty-three half-minds donned the red for the event.

This fashion festivity found the flock convening at the Red Room. The indoor bar, both small and dark, soon gave way to the outdoor drinkin’ area. Not only did this make the pack happy but the lone bartender rejoiced to see us leave his sight as well. With over forty of we half-mind fools in attendance, jockeying for position and socializing were favorite pastimes.

There were to be two unrelated trails this evening. Surf City H3 Founder Banana Basher would lead the litter on a repeat of Surf City Hash #1 which he of course hared and then outgoing co-GM’s Baker’s Dozen’t and Dung-fu Grip would take over and lay a more up-to-date Surf City trail with an expected Turkey/Eagle split.

Co-hare Dung-fu Grip gives an explanation of how he hopes trail goes

Hares-away heralded a return to socializing. Lets fast forward to Circleup for Introductions where answering barks were heard from the following hounds: Mr. Wiggly, Thmp-Thmp, Princess Di(arrhea), Moose Turd Pie, Pink Cherry Licker, TIMMY!!, Bareback Unicrack, Dicky Wacker, New Kids On My Cock, Chippin’ Ballz, Today Is Monday, Under Where?, Just Holly, My Little Bony, Courtesy Flush, No Film, Ska-Skank Redemption, Rubik’s Pube, Penis Horn Deformity, Steamy Baanorrhea, Wicked Retahted, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, Occasional Rapist, Cumz Out My Nose, International House of Pussy, L’eggs, Cunt Double, Apple Bobber, Fucked-Over Fest, Lumber Party, Virgin Kelsey, Snake Me Anywhere, Pretty Fly For A Pi Guy, Cuntjungle, dBASED, Hand Over Piss, Broke Bench Mountain, Worm, Achy-Breaky Snatch and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Our hare-trio was Banana Basher, Baker’s Dozen’t and Dung-fu Grip.

Scribe will attempt to encapsulate trail as much as possible because: 1) they were both shitty and 2) they did not contribute to the success of this Hash. 

From the Red Room, the recreation of Surf City Hash #1 turned on-right onto Locust Street, on-right onto Union Street and directly across Cedar Street and on-up the stairs to the top of the parking structure.

Banana Basher announces we have just completed Surf City Hash #1 Redux

Beer Check #1 on Trail 1161 mimics Trail #1


     

After the passage of sufficient time to ingest a minimum of two beers, Instructions of Trail were issued for a more conventional Surf City trail and co-hares Baker’s Dozen’t and Dung-fu Grip lit out. The pack straggled along behind them at their own pace. The first maneuver to be completed was to successfully negotiate the multiple flights of stairs leading on-down from the rooftop parking of the garage to street level. Once back to Locust Street, it was on-left, on-right at Pacific and on-left to violate Abbott Square via the arcade where one and all received a round of applause from patrons drinkin and dining on the large patio.

Once on Cooper Street, it was on-right to Front Street and on-right to the locals-only on-right to shortcut around the parking structure on Front and Soquel. On Soquel, the promised Turkey/Eagle split was observed. The Turkeys appear to be heading towards Pacific, let’s see what’s in store for the Eagles.

The Eagles crossed Front and turned on-right onto the river levee. The levee is sketchy during DAYLIGHT hours and is downright dangerous after the sun goes away. As we neared the Broadway/Laurel Bridge, a ‘local’ challenged our right to pass. A shout-out to Steamy Baanorrhea who stayed behind to safely escort DFL Scribe through this intersection. The Eagles crossed Laurel and headed along Laurel Street Extension and on-up the treacherous metal steps on-up to Beach Hill and on-left onto Third Street. A short on-down depositied the pod on-right onto Holden followed by an on-left onto Leibrandt which eventually took the troops to Beach Street where an on-right was indicated. Settle in for a pass-by of the closed, darkened, dreary Boardwalk.

Now we’ve made it to the Pacific Avenue Circus (ask Hand Over Piss for a translation) and made an on-right to the walkway beside the Monterey Bay Sanctuary Exploration Center. Here’s another iffy section of trail beneath the West Cliff Drive bridge. Mercifully, the City has seen fit to install lighting to illuminate this area. The same cannot be said of our next stop, Depot Park. After some brief confusion, trail was discovered behind the bathrooms and on-right on-up Chestnut Street. Chestnut Street was followed to it’s termination at Center Street. Owing to Scribe’s DFL status, he proceeded directly to Religion atop the River and River Street South parking structure.   

Once here and some semblance of order was installed, dBASED convened Religion. A number of down-downs were issued, most undeservedly. There was a considerable amount of nostalgia involved as this was celebrated as the club’s 21st birthday due to the first Hash have been staged November the ninth, 2000. All manner of Remember your first Hash? memories were shared. TIMMY!! was mocked for leaving his purse in his Uber, backsliders were punished, Virgin Kelsey was welcomed. There were others but they were even less important than the ones just mentioned. Eventually, as dBASED’s grip on the pack faded to black, the pack was dismissed and Hash 1161 declared over. That also brings this Trash to an end. Rumor Central informs me both venues suggested for on-on-on were closed. Rumor Central also contends Pretty Fly For A Pi Guy and Cuntjungle were witnessed with their rear paws caught in the bar rail at Abbott Square. That does not come as a shock though, does it?

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.

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 seventh day of November in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-one. 

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Acting Scribe

Surf City H3

Hash 1160 The Horrible Hares of Hallowe’en

SCH3 Trash
Tempting Fate by visiting the hallowed grounds of Holy Cross Church

Greetings Ghouls and Ghosties,

       It’s All Hallows Eve and many things will go bump in the night after darkness covers the land this day.

However, I prefer to leave your sex life out of this Trash and proceed as usual.

The clan convened at the now-named Urbani’s Cellar, formerly Bocci’s Cellar, on Encinal Street as per the dictate of hare-pair(and a nice pair they are, too!) consisting of Hugh Heifer and Cum You Will Not.

Filling Urbani’s Cellar to overflow

The crowd was typically large(nor the way Banana Basher is) for a Hallowe’en Hash and hounds were in every corner and crevice. Pussy Galore and (second) husband Cum Lord make a rare guest appearance from Thailand. My Sister’s Dildo and Womb With A View are (temporarily) back on the Mainland from Hawaii. Driponya has reappeared after her naming. She and Rainbow Butthole sported sexy black stockings and garter belts but it appears they forgot to put their dresses on. Admittedly, I did not hear one male complain about their oversight though. In keeping with our vampyre theme, Dicky Wacker wore a convict’s striped outift. Well, it’s Dicky Wacker after all. dBASED was being devoured by a shark, there’s always been something fishy about that man anyway. Snake Me Anywhere wore a makeshift bunny outfit. After her trail of last week she should have hopped into the bushes and not returned. Moose Turd Pie, AKA Broken Wing, wore a nice camouflage attire, presumably in an attempt to hide from our many vampyres. Leaky Rubber donned, well, I guess it was meant to be a tiger ensemble. More than just his rubber has sprung a leak I fear.

Eventually the hares hopped on-out and fifteen minutes later Circleup for Introductions was executed and the pack progressed at a snail’s pack down Encinal and across Highway 9 into the Tannery Arts Center. A mercifully small circle-jerk took us to the walkway behind the building and under Highway 1 to Gateway Plaza shopping center. Just out from under Highway 1, we were accosted by a ‘local resident’ who was perturbed we were waking her. Mercifully, all she had was a few foul words for us and no physical weapons. We moved on quickly.

We motivated through the parking lot, to River Street and headed downtown. We went on-right through Trader Joe’s parking lot and on-left onto Front Street, shortcut through the outdoor dining area for the Palomar Restaurant, on-right onto Soquel Avenue and then on-right on Pacific Avenue.

We scarcely drew a glance on Pacific Avenue

  It was on-left off Pacific onto Church Street and on-left on Cedar Street where we managed to completely disrupt the dining experience at Gabriella’s much to the chagrin of patrons and wait staff alike. Soon it was on-left onto Mission Street to initiate the arduous on-up of the Mission Street hill to on-right into Mission Plaza for a scheduled Beer Check.

Taking a break at Mission Plaza


After our business was concluded there, we transferred our bodies to Holy Cross Church where photos were taken and then, before we were discovered by parishioners, took off for the pedestrian bridge towering over Highway 1 and then on-right on the pedestrian path on-down to the Harvey West Park area. An on-left onto Evergreen Street deposited us at the arch over the entrance to Evergreen Cemetery. We entered. 

A number of intrepid souls such as Just Holly took the trip to the very top of Glory Path which is the main path into Evergreen Cemetery. She was white as a ghost(no pun intended) upon her return. The pack came to a stop partway up and bloody drinks were distributed.

Chippin’ Ballz and Cum You Will Not distribute bloody drinks in Evergreen Cemetery


After living through as much fun as we could stand, we traversed the distance back to Evergreen Street where we found a Cadillac hearse awaiting us.


Need a ride?

Here we encountered a coffin portraying a cooler.

Drinks both cold and clammy!

Once our business was concluded here, Religious Adviser dBASED convened Religion for those sober enough to attend.

A number of justified and unjustified down-downs were issued. TIMMY! was busted for not a hint of a costume. Rainbow Butthole was awarded Best Costume while Cum Lord received the Best Vampyre Slayer Costume Award. Hugh Heifer celebrated her 600th Hash with us. There were a number of backsliders, notably Bee Queefer, Pussy Galore and Cum Lord.

Oh, yeah. The accursed(cursed?) hares, Hugh Heifer and Cum You Will Not. Trail was especially inventive but also took the troops to dangerous places so it was pretty much a wash.

Hideous hares hear horrible charges about their trail

That just about did it in for Hallowe’en Hash 2021 and that puts the lid on this Hash Trash as well. Next week? Red Dress Run from the Red Room.

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.

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, All Hallows Eve, the thirty-first day of October, in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-one.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Acting Scribe

Surf City H3