Welcome to Circle,

Circle JERK that is. Worse yet, sections of this trail were a closed loop directing us back on ourselves. Allow me to expand.

Not for a very long time have we been instructed to assemble our traveling circus at The Point. It may have actually been it’s former incarnation, Portola House, when we were last here. Whatever. We’re here now and enjoying the first sun and warmth in weeks. The outdoor drinkin’ area has been commandeered for our own e-vile purposes and the one lone mortal couple present soon beat a hasty retreat for safety’s sake. There was a good turnout and almost everyone honored the Saint Patrick’s Day theme by donning a kilt or green dress. It must have presented a bizarre sight to the mortals we encountered along trail.

Co-hare Steamy Baanorrhea was seen consulting his device’s GPS as he readily admitted, he’d never scouted this trail. It was a Circle Gherkin’ trail and Steamy would lay the (purportedly) simple Turkey section. By the time this trail was mercifully completed, it would appear that NEITHER hare ever scouted it!

Sufficiently long past 6:33, Steamy Baanorrhea (the hare that never scouted this trail) delivered Instructions of Trail. They were as vague as would be expected from a hare that has not set so much as one paw on his trail. Hares out.

The next fifteen passed as lead time always does; settling bar tabs and ignoring what may befall our bodies on trail. Debts settled co-GMs Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain called for Circleup for Introductions. As we already were, more or less, in a circular configuration, names were spoken in the outdoor area and here’s what they were: TIMMY!!, Flours For Anal Bum, Fap Jack, Pink Cherry Licker, Bacon Queef, Cum You Will Not, Hareless, Dung-Fu Grip, Princess Di(arrhea), Thmp-Thmp, Just Lisa Marie(soon to change), Occasional Rapist, Rainbow Butthole, Driponya and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Our canine contingency was at full strength; Junk Puncher, Spot’d Dick, Scratch and Sniff. Pack away.

Due to hare incompetence, the following will merely be an approximation of where trail went/was supposed to go/may have actually gone.

A check directly in front of The Point was eventually solved and trail proceeded east along Portola Drive and made an on-right onto 36th Avenue. A hare arrow at Moana Way turned the troops on right and then into an apartment building walkway towards East Cliff Drive. Just as we made the turn we spied another hare arrow. Alarmingly though, this one was pointed AT us! What did we miss? The pack spread out but was unable to find a solution. A few hounds went to East Cliff ignoring the wayward hare arrow and found Thmp-Thmp coming toward them from back on 36th. He said we had turned incorrectly but he had not seen the hare arrow. We found ourselves in a closed loop condition. By now, even the walkers had arrived at 36th and Moana and the pack was milling around as if waiting for an Uber! dBASED decided to continue along 36th and pretend he had not seen the hare arrow or become ensnared in the closed loop condition. He soon discovered marker and sounded on-on as more marks were discovered and they indicated an on-right onto East Cliff Drive. Things began to get weird now.

A distance along East Cliff we were directed on-right up a mud puddle filled alley to Hawes Drive and on-left there. This proved to be another circle jerk as soon it was on-left on 30th and back to East Cliff. It was across East Cliff and onto a locals-only walkway to Pleasure Point Drive and directly across onto another locals-only walkway which dumped us onto the seawall overlooking Monterey Bay. Here it was on-right onto a dangerous section of trail. We stepped over and around people sitting on the wall, stepped onto private property and were even told to jump off the wall onto a lower level walkway even more dangerous than the first one. The only smart one among us was Junk Puncher who refused to jump and had to be lifted and handed to dBASED who lowered him to the next level down. We were now on familiar territory, we have had Beer Check on this promontory before. This time, however, we were directed to bypass this scenic site and on-up the steps to Rockview Drive. Once to the street, the LC mark was seen and soon after Princess Di(arrhea) was also seen handling the duty at Liquor Check.

Upon the conclusion of our business here, Princess directed us back toward East Cliff where an arrow pointed the pod on-left to make another on-left at South Palisades Avenue. This basically unimproved stretch of dirt curves on-right back to East Cliff where the DGK mark was laid and leading the litter on-left. This was a pointless gesture as once across the street there was no sidewalk so we were coerced into running in the damn street anyway. As we went down the small hill to what we call Moron Lake, the walkway coming down on-right had a hare arrow on it, this time pointing towards us. Had we made a wrong turn? But there were also marks on the section of East Cliff we’d just traversed. Just another trail enigma I guess. Once to the parking lot, trail took us on-right beside the lake. Partway along trail marker was seen on-left but upon inspection, it appeared to be false markings. Impossible! That would send us back to the last check which was prior to Liquor Check. dBASED, TIMMY!! and myself chose to ignore such and continue along. Very soon though, dBASED yelled, Last Mark! Trail had again eluded us. Backing up, we saw flour beside trail that apparently was intended to turn us.

We went along a footpath and soon came to more marks on Lakeview Drive. We continued along Lakeview and at the intersection with Baker Street encountered the promised Turkey/Eagle split. It’s still light now after Daylight Saving Time, let’s fly with the Eagles this night. TIMMY!! discovered Turkey trail taking Baker Street and making a mandatory on-left onto Placer Street bringing him to 26th Avenue and on-right there. The Eagles arrived at the old Kong’s Market and were unable to find marker. In view of that, we turned on-right onto 26th and eventually found marker. Sadly, we were later to learn what we found was the Turkey trail. Dung-Fu Grip would later inform us trail crossed 26th onto 24th Avenue and went to East Cliff Drive where an on-right was taken to Coastview Drive. There it was on-right to Portola and on-right there. Once (back) to 26th, it was on-right to rejoin the Turkeys at Quartz Street. Quartz was taken until it’s termination point and then it was into the upper end of Moron Lake park and to exit onto 30th Avenue. It was on-right there a short distance to a hare arrow pointing to the entrance to the sprawling Snug Harbor mobile home park. It was quite time consuming to find the first mark in the park but dBASED eventually stumbled across it. We weaved our weary way through this park and eventually came back to 30th and went on-right but a short distance and back into Snug Harbor. This time we curved on-left and came to Portola, again. Here it was on-right. Soon The Point came into view, where the hell was Beer Check? The BN mark was seen just past what was the first check of trail. We continued along viewing not only a second but a third BN mark as well before arriving at the parking lot behind the Cat and Cloud coffee shop where Beer Check was staged. This proved quite convenient as it was also the site for Religion.

Once the walkers (and the DFLs) appeared Dung-Fu Grip cranked up his Religion machine. Here’s a sampling of down-downs issued: the hare-pair for lousy trail marking, Dung-Fu for being the only one to do Eagle trail, Princess for administering Liquor Check, DFLs were chastised and Dung-Fu for running into a ladder hanging on the back of a work truck. One more piece of business was conducted. Just Lisa Marie, back from traveling the world with sister Occasional Rapist, was up for her naming. To dispense with the aimless wanderings of an intoxicated pack, the final choice was: Dirty Bean. The hares were of course again taken to task for a lousy trail. On-on-on was conducted a Taqueria Vallarta on lower 41st Avenue. This Hash is over.

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 of not they are successful in this endeavor remains 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 Twelve-36.

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 nineteenth day of March in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-three.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe

Residing in the shadow,

Of the Redwood tree that graces my balcony eclipsing my perch as I contemplate an event in my personal life, the recent demise of an important personal relationship. A tragic event by anyone’s standards. What makes us toss away our contentment and beg for something more? We are all moving toward something though. Even if you’re a screw-up hasher, you’re participating. You survive one calamity, one catastrophe, and promptly move on to the next disaster in your life. Be that as it may, also providing me with significant trauma in my life is this past Thursday’s trail. Allow me to elucidate.

Our hare, Broke Bench Mountain, had originally hailed this week’s trail as a monumental milestone in Surf City haring history. An A-to-B, a scenic tour of the Santa Cruz coastline and a farewell to his and Cumz Out My Nose’s Eaton Street abode. They’ve been shown the door, figuratively and literally. Then the prediction of an Atmospheric River grabbed the local headlines. This apparently pleased our hare to no end, he would now not have to do anything involved with trail laying. He could now sing the praises of what would have (supposedly) been a landmark Surf City trail. He cried alligator tears upon hearing the weather prognostication. However…

As the time neared for trail, there was not a hint of moisture in the air. The only water present was on Broke Bench’s forehead when he realized he would have to lay an actual trail. Excuses were made pertaining to the original trail as rain having been predicted, he did not work out all the details so trail was shifted to the Blue Lounge and would be shortened to minimize the potential encounter with a veritable deluge. Here’s the story of what transpired then.

The Blue lounge is only slightly different from any of it’s previous incarnations, e.g., The Knight Owl, The 529 or Seabright Lounge. Concrete floor and concrete walls do a prison cell make. The covey congealed for safety’s sake and awaited zero hour. Drinks are quite inexpensive here, beers five bucks. I guess every dark cloud DOES have a silver lining. An actual band was setting up shop and Gizmo the dog inhabited her usual bar stool. Broke Bench tossed back hard stuff like Prohibition was to take effect at midnight. Finally he was convinced to get out in hopes of avoiding the incoming wave of water. Instructions of Trail were so brief I spoke with no one that remembered them. Hare away.

The next fifteen minutes passed amicably enough. dBASED took Virgin Megan outside for the proverbial Chalk Talk. Everyone settled bar tabs and watched the clock. When the allotted lead time had expired, we exited the building and performed Circleup for introductions which resulted in hearing from: TIMMY!!, Steamy Baanorrhea, Flowers For Anal Bum, Cum You Will Not, dBASED, Virgin Megan, Circle Gherkin’ and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. We were joined on trail by Courtesy Flush. No canine contingency this week, they are all way the hell too smart to show snout in this weather. Pack out.

There was initial confusion right from the get-go on this trail. There was a check where circleup had been staged out the rear door of the Blue. The first marks took an excessive amount of time to locate. Eventually they were discovered though down the alley to Logan Street and on-left to Buena Vista where another on-left brought us to East Cliff Drive. We continued along East Cliff to Pilkington Avenue where another on-left was indicated. At Forbes Street, a solved check took the troops on-left to Alhambra Avenue and on-right there to Murray Street. At Mott Avenue, we were circle-jerked on-right to Forbes Street, on-left to Cypress Avenue and on-left there and just before hitting Murray Street again, our favored BN mark was viewed and we entered Brady’s Yacht Club via the rear. It was here we found our hare sitting at the bar and again tossing back heavy hit drinks.

Time passed quickly here. We were also joined by a late running Courtesy Flush. Upon completion of our task here, the herd migrated to the walkway outside Seabright Social in an effort to stay out of the lightly falling rain. Here’s a synopsis of down-downs issued by RA dBASED: Puff for being ‘alone’ tonight, there were no canines to be given treats; Broke Bench Mountain for wearing a race shirt, Cum You Will Not for faking an illness on trail, dBASED for NOT taking a shortcut, Flours For Anal Bum for being ill last week thus avoiding taking over Beermeister duty, Circle Gherkin’ for not knowing so much as one hash song, Steamy Baanorrhea for thinking the false marking from Chalk Talk was real and lastly Virgin Megan who exposed her cute little derriere. On-on-on was at Engfer’s Pizza and turned into a concert for the employees as Bohemian Rhapsody was crooned for them. Possibly to their dismay.

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 they 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 remains 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 as with this motive in mind I recounted the events that comprised Hash Twelve-35.

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 March in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-three.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3

Point the way,

To the exit from this trail. Clearly Not A Hooker and (purported) Mystery Co-Hare Dung-Fu Grip spared no chalk this evening. They also gave a sound thrashing to the hounds. What follows is the sad tale of such.

Point A was Sante Adairius’ Portal on Water Street. The interior was quite lively and the pack brightened the exterior. We were pleasured by old kennel mate Pinch the Head and Twist It. She has not been seen in two years, I guess she finally finished her time. Banana Basher also slithered on-up Cayuga to plague us with his presence. He still possesses no apparent intrinsic value. Half of last week’s hare-pair, Circle Gherkin’, showed snout but head hare( who said head?) Cold Smegma Kamikaze knew better than to manifest his muzzle this week. Many of us are still smarting from last week’s trail of terror. Speaking of last week, Flours For Anal Bum was to co-hare rather than Circle Gherkin’ but claimed to be too ill to do so. I make the assumption she refers to a physical malady rather than the (numerous) mental defects she obviously possesses. This week she was to take over the reins of power as Beermeister. She did not show this week either. She has traversed the distance from hero to zero in two short weeks. TIMMY!! will have the (dis)pleasure of continuing as Beermeister for at least another week. That’s as much gossip as can be relayed this week.

With a minimal amount of coaxing, the hare-pair relayed Instructions of Trail. They were just as uninformative as we’ve come to expect form the likes of Hooker and Dung-Fu, masters of chicanery they both are. Hares away.

The pack spent the next fifteen minutes of their lives eating, drinking, paying bar tabs and, most of all, ignoring what was anticipated to be a trail of little or no significant importance. We are somewhat prescient in that respect. The fifteen did pass and the herd was mandated to migrate to the parking lot by co-GMs Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain to conduct Circleup for Introductions. The result of this was haring from: Pinch the Head and Twist It, TIMMY!!, Cum You Will Not, Steamy Baanorrhea, Banana Basher, dBASED, Circle Gherkin’ and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Our canine contingency consisted of Scratch and Sniff, Spot’d Dick and Junk Puncher. Pack out.

Trail led the litter on-right to the evening’s first check at Poplar Avenue. Trail, heralded by arrows-only, was located crossing Water Street, Soquel Avenue, through the parking lot for Staff of Life and to exit the rear onto Gault Street. At Gault it was on-right past the abode of Just Foot Pussy and Bacon Queef, whom, incidentally, was at the start but opted to remain drinking rather than hash the trail, and then a quick on-left onto Sumner Avenue and two blocks later on-left onto Effey Street. Then we blasphemed the grounds of Star of the Sea Catholic Church and were ejected onto Fredrick Street. An on-right there brought us to an extended stay at the intersection with Broadway. After considerable sniffing here, Steamy located trail continuing on Fredrick and then to make an on-right onto Windham Street.

Soon it was on-left onto Darwin Street. When Darwin ends at Clinton Street, it was on-left. when Clinton comes to a climax, an arrow pointed the pod on-right onto Owen Street. Owen, too, was taken to the limit and when it ended an on-right was dictated onto Watson Street and took the troops to Seabright Avenue where one of the ubiquitous arrows turned us on-left and across Murray Street and, sadly, past Brady’s Yacht Club with no Gorilla Beer Check. The next street, Marine Parade, was chosen and it, too, was taken to it’s terminal point where it was on-right onto Fourth Avenue by necessity. Now we entered a slight danger zone. Partway along Fourth, the OTHER Yacht Club, that being Santa Cruz Yacht Club, kindly provides an on-left locals-only point of ingress to the Lower Yacht Harbor. I doubt such was placed here for the convenience of hashers and we may not even meet with their approval but the hares opted to drag us on-down this walkway nonetheless.

We are now at the Lower Harbor and here yet another arrow got the gang to on-left. Let’s fast forward to the steps on-left that lead on-up from the Upper Harbor. This delivered us back to Fredrick Street but soon arrows had us on-right into Fredrick Street Park. At the harbor side of the Park, Liquor Check was staged on a bar-be-cue grille! Everyone got toasted too! In addition to some rotgut liquor, it featured ‘edible stickers’. That being said, the digestibility of said ‘edible stickers’ is still a subject open to debate. Suffice it to say all the dogs present refused the offer made them. It was then on-down to the Upper Harbor and on-left and on-up through Arana Gulch to exit onto Agnes Street, on-right to South Park Way and on-left there all the way to Soquel Avenue.

We were directed across Soquel Avenue onto Park Way. This began a rather long, if not simply boring, traipse to just before where Park Way ends and there we took an on-left onto Roxas Street. One block later it was on-left onto Marnell Avenue. One block late the BN was observed and Beer Check was staged on Fairmount Avenue beside John D. Franks Park. It was here we discovered the hare-pair swilling away on Beer Check beer. After sufficient time was wasted waiting for the Walkers, a phone call determined the lazy dogs had shortcutted at Soquel Avenue directly to the site for Religion behind the Safeway on Morrissey. The hounds at Beer Check migrated there via Marnell and Melrose avenues. Upon our arrival, we found Pinch the Head cracking the whip on her fellow hashers. That is meant literally, she had a bullwhip and it was emitting cracking noises when she used it properly. Mercifully, dBASED fired up his Religion machine which (somewhat) calmed Pinch the Head. Here’s a sampling of what transpired during Religion: those that missed/skipped/avoided Beer Check; backsliders were punished; co-hare Clearly Not A Hooker for her ‘edible stickers’ at Liquor Check and finally the hares themselves. There was some mention of a relatively scenic trail but the length was deemed excessive and the absence of flour was inexcusable. This Hash is over.

On-on-on was held at Taqueria Santa Cruz, conveniently located directly across the street from the One-Double-Oh-Seven Club.

The preceding was a factual accounting of actual events even 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 remains a subject still 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 Twelve-34.

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

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

It was a dark and stormy night…

Banal cliche? Damn right. However, it is sadly applicable to the events that comprised Trail Twelve-33. Explanation to follow.

Let’s begin with one of the hares became so ill(reputedly) she was unable to fulfill her obligation. This, of course, refers to Flours For Anal Bum. Emphasis on the ‘Bum’ portion of her moniker. She did not text anyone during trail to ask how it was going. Maybe she had more important business elsewhere? Her proxy, Circle Gherkin’, stepped up to take her place. However, this was but Gherkin’s second haring and lead hare, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, refused to divulge trail details to him. In theory, this will make it extremely, if not downright impossible, for Gherkin’ to assist with the laying of trail. Thinking back to his first haring with Jersey Lunchbox, you may remember what a tragic event it was so even if he WAS made aware of the planned trail, it would still probably not go well for the pack.

To further dishearten the pack, it is now well past that 6:33 mark and Cold Smegma has yet to show snout. The pack, all seven(!) of us, are becoming increasingly inclined to have Circle Gherkin’ drag us around the block and call it a Hash! With just minutes to spare before our self-imposed deadline, Gherkin’ received a text from Cold Smegma claiming he was almost there. As it was now raining and the temperature having dropped to the upper-forties, we were almost hoping Cold Smegma did NOT make the cutoff time. He soon pushed his burgeoning belly through the swinging doors here at the Over-the-Hill Gang Saloon to the dismay of many of us in attendance. After a little coaxing, like hurry-the-hell-up, Instructions of Trail were issued.

After informing us about a Turkey/Eagle split and a Beer Check quite close, the hare-pair slithered on-out. Hares away.

The hares said they would not require even a fifteen minute lead time as Beer Check was so close. Consequently, soon co-GM’s Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain, from the comfort of the interior of the bar, called for Circleup for Introductions and heard whimpers from the following hounds: Cum You Will Not, TIMMY!!, Steamy Baanorrhea, dBASED and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Canine wise we had Spot’d Dick and Scratch and Sniff. Yes, that was it for this week’s festivities. Pack out.

A hare arrow immediately outside the front door led the litter on-left all the way to 30th Avenue to make an on-left there. We went down 30th and made an on-right onto the Moran Lake Trail. That’s Moron Lake in Hash parlance. Just prior to the on-right, the BN mark was viewed. However, once into the darkened depths of the Eucalyptus forest, further marks eluded us. Eventually, the light-reflective jacket of Circle Gherkin’ revealed the location of the hare-pair and Beer Check was engaged. As we stood there, shivering and injecting ourselves with cold liquid, what could be interpreted as snowflakes swirled around our little half-minds. It was certainly cold enough. Hares requested a seven minute lead time and left. About five minutes later the pack, now down to five, decided to leave. Let’s get outta here. Pack out.

It was a rather unpleasant traipse along side Moron Lake. Ask TIMMY!! who took a terrible spill and not only injured himself but came away wet and muddy as well. Eventually we got to East Cliff Drive where an arrow pointed the pod on-left. This began a rather dangerous section of trail as there is no place to go should a vehicle approach. And it did. And there was no rejoicing. Mercifully, the driver spied us and gave us a wide berth. We were able to make it to Chesterfield Drive where a hare arrow pointed us on-right and allowed us a brief shortcut back to East Cliff Drive and on-right there. We now undertook a long and very windy jaunt along East Cliff until just past the bathrooms where we were directed on-right and on-down to the sand where Liquor Check was staged. It was quite windy here so our business was concluded quickly and back on-up to East Cliff.

The Turkey/Eagle split was encountered not far along East Cliff. The Eagles are disappearing into the darkness, that does not appear to appetizing, Scribe will fly with the Turkeys tonight. Turkeys went on-left onto 34th Avenue. Somewhere around Floral Drive we went on-right to 36th Avenue, on-left and on-in to Religion behind Cat and Cloud Coffee. The two Eagles were already present so as soon as Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain were collected from the bar where they wisely waited out trail, dBASED began Religion and promised it would be brief as the temperature has lowered itself into the low forties.

Here’s what transpired there: Cumz and Broke Bench for not placing one rear paw on trail; they were joined by Puff who decided to sing them the same song as one previously sang; dBASED for hashing trail sideways, albeit due to a very strong cross-trail wind; hares were doused with flour by all members of the pack for not USING any flour on this trail. This Hash is over.

That finished off this short Religion. On-on-on was at Taqueria Vallarta on 41st Avenue.

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 Twelve-33.

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

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe

Sunny Salutations,

A far cry from this past Thursday’s leather and lace of pink and red. Yes, it was fun and intriguing. This does NOT, however, remove the stain of trail. Our hare-pair, Pink Cherry Licker and Bacon Queef, with over 650 trails between them, should have firmly embraced the KISS method of haring: Keep It Simple, Stupid! However, the aimless twists and turns proved this dastardly duo do not subscribe to such philosophy. Details to follow.

This time we were called to the CORRECT hotel, that being the Marriott Courtyard on Riverside Avenue rather than the Hyatt Place on Broadway. While I personally see little, if any, connection betwixt these two accommodations, apparently Pink Cherry Licker does. Or at least DID at a previous point in her life. So this time she moved us from the relative safety of Broadway to the dingy depths of Beach Flats. In the dark. In the off-tourist season. The interior of the Marriott is quite nice I must admit and the outdoor patio will be quite a draw in the Summer. Sadly, that Summer season is a distant dream on this chilly February evening. In addition to a full bar, unlike the Hyatt, there are four person dining booths with TV screens in the wall and spacious couches and chairs a-plenty. The bar area filled and the few guests steered clear of the area.

Pre-lube time was it’s usual verbal exchange of gossip and events that have transpired in our lives since our last session of intercourse. This also involves ignoring what may befall us along trail. Half-minds racing through the geography of the area, wondering how safe trail will be and the possible location of Beer Check. This wild speculation was ceased only by the hare-pair’s declaration of Instructions of Trail. While almost universally ignored, there were enough blatant lies to illicit chuckles from more than a few hounds. In the colloquial, this would be termed Whistling through the graveyard. Hares-out.

The final fifteen was the settling of bar tabs, visiting the indoor bathroom and enjoying the indoor warmth. As everything must come to an end,(sometimes gratefully) co-GMs Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain ran everyone out the door to convene Circleup for Introductions. The result was names from: Flours For Anal Bum, TIMMY!!, Fap Jack, Cum You Will Not, Steamy Baanorrhea, Dung-Fu Grip, dBASED, Slow Gherkin’, Clearly Not A Hooker, Worm, Today Is Monday, Gary the Shit Stain and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Our canine contingency this week consisted of just Junk Puncher, Merlissa and Scratch and Sniff. Pack away.

A hare arrow led the litter on-left to the first check of the evening at the intersection with Riverside and Third Avenue. This check consumed an inordinate amount of time. Whether this was due to hare deviousness or hound incompetence is a debatable subject. Also one not worthy of any more of our time. On-on was eventually sounded on-right onto Third and then on-right onto Raymond Street, across Leibrandt Avenue to continue on Raymond to a check at Beach Street. Here’s where the evening’s kink rose up hard and long. TIMMY!!, having spent the formative years with Pink Cherry Licker, crossed Beach Street thinking she may take the troops onto the Boardwalk. He surmised correctly. However, due to an inordinate number of fences, we were directed onto the Main Beach and on-left. Okay, we can do this, it’s slightly under a quarter of a mile to the river and it will be easy-peasy once we get there. However, at the very last set of steps on-up to the Boardwalk, the below was encountered.

Those of us feeble minded enough to fall for this began the stumble back to the check far, far away. The tide was in making the river too high to shortcut. TIMMY!! stumbled not once but twice on the irregular peaks and valleys of the beach before reaching concrete again.

Just as this group of dejected hounds hit Beach Street, on-on was given proceeding along Beach, into the large parking lot at Beach and Third and on-right and on-up to the bridge over the river. Once up to East Cliff Drive, a solved check pointed the pod on-right. Just past Pilkington Avenue, a hare arrow begged the brood to on-left across East Cliff and onto the tracks where Liquor Check would be staged. After consuming some hideous concoction here, trail proceeded east along the tracks to Seabright Avenue and a check. Here was our promised Turkey/Eagle split. The Eagles have vanished towards the Yacht Harbor. No thanks, it’s cold and dark down there, I will Turkey Trail it this night. We gobblers went on-left onto Seabright but were soon allowed to shortcut through the parking lot behind The Blue Lounge to Logan Street. Logan was loped along until Buena Vista where an on-right was indicated followed by the on-left and on-down the remnant of South Branciforte Avenue and then on-left on-up to Oceanview Park and then to transition on-right onto Oceanview Avenue.

The Eagles joined back up at Windsor Street and the entire pack found a check at Broadway. Everyone believed it simply HAD to be an on-left and it was so solved. The tribe traipsed Broadway and eventually observed the BN at Roberts Street. I must say it was a long two blocks until the REAL Beer Check in Mimi de Marta Dog Park. But we made it. And there was much rejoicing. It was but a five minute walk to the site for Religion behind Wheel Works on the now dead end section of Laurel Street Extension. It was here leather clad, skimply-attired Dung-Fu Grip fired up his Religion machine.

Here is the listing of an (extremely) abbreviated Religion so hounds could make it to I Heart Sushi prior to the 9PM closing time: Visitors were welcomed; hares were roasted; analversaries were celebrated(BOTH hares!) and Pink Cherry Licker was congratulated on completing another trip around our sun. This Hash is over.

It was a few blocks up Front Street to I Heart Sushi where eleven hashers reassembled and ran up a food and bar tab of almost 500 bucks! Broke Bench Mountain (foolishly) offered up his credit card assuming everyone would pay him back. Gullible, isn’t he?!?

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 Twelve-32.

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 nineteenth day of February in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-three.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen