Hash 926


Those of you that fell victim to DungFu Grip’s last trail, which as you may remember he did not even attend, will be ecstatic to learn that TIMMY!! and Puff have corrected DungFu’s errors. Rumors are that DungFu realized his mistakes too late to correct them and actually cloistered himself away in a dive bar in Castroville until Trail 919 was added to the history books. That is all ancient history now though. Trail 926 will be a walk in the woods in comparison. Literally.

We will begin this glorious outing from the outdoor bar beside the driving range at DeLa. That’s DeLaveaga for those of you not in-the-know. There’s plenty of FREE parking and the drinks are reasonably priced. Trail is almost exactly three miles. Poison oak? Well, of course there is! Only wimps ( and possibly Vaginal Repair Kit and CumFart Zone’s butt) are frightened of poison oak. It’s impossible to go into the woods around the Cruz and NOT find some PO. This time it is avoidable though. Wear your knee-highs though. Dogs will love this trail of course but nothing with wheels will survive. Food and beverages will be available at Beer Check should you be one of the lucky few to survive trail. As was Trail 919, this is an A-to-B so transportation will be provided back to where you abandoned your ratmobile.

Due to the complexity of trail, the hare-pair will out themselves no later than 6:40. Don’t be late, you will not wish to still be on trail when the sun goes away at 8:06PM.





Magic Drag Queen

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Hash Trash Trail 919 Graveyard Antics

It was billed as his farewell hash, it was set in a cemetery and the hype was real. The trailer promised an over the top event. The enthusiasm to give Dung Fu a proper send off was unprecedented. It far exceeded the Jack O’Neill memorial paddle out. We had the press (Steamy B), we had cake, flowers, cards, banners, skywriters, balloons and a lovely parting gift.
But alas, he was a NO SHOW.
Quite the run out for Dung-fu's funeral!

Quite the run out for Dung-fu’s funeral!

We got some last minute sob story via FB about tourists, plane tickets and bears in Yosemite.
The crowd was dejected. They did not think they could go on. They sat on crumbling gravestones and wept. They popped the balloons, shot RPGs at the sky, tore up the cards and ate all the cake……………..and then they got up off their sorry asses and marched along following the shittiest, lamest excuse for a trail ever because Timmy and Puff decided they could be a viable replacement for Dung Fu. I think not!

The scene was set for an ominous trail

The scene was set for an ominous trail

Because of them –  F*CK THEM –  I have poison oak on my ass. Seriously I have poison oak ON my ass…Just let that sink in…..I also have poison oak IN my ass crack and its creeping to other nether regions. I will NEVER forgive them. Plus they owe me $27.69 for the new bottle of Technu and the soothing Calamine lotion. And they owe Vag Repair Kit a few psycho therapy sessions cause he is the one who has been applying the anti itch lotion to my bu tac al hemisphere. He is scarred for life now. He saw things in there that no one should ever see. And now he can’t sleep at night.
But at least I got my favorite butt plug back.
Gorilla beer check at the golf course

Gorilla beer check at the golf course

So we did some sort of a trail with our fake hares.
We ran through a big green playground with lots of little balls scattered about. Someone did not get the lesson about picking up their toys.
After endless rounds of foraging in the woods and bathing in copious amounts of poison oak we managed a Gorilla Beer check at the newly opened outdoor bar. Pitchers of golden nectar were ordered, $20 bills were flying faster than at a lousy strip joint, and birthday boy managed to get in a few top shelf shots.
The bartender, aka THE golf pro, seemed a bit dazed and confused as to how these untidy and unruly ruffians all showed up at his bar at the same time….and where did they come from………..and they certainly were not his average golf patrons. Maybe they were disc golf players…….NOT!!  In between keeping the pitchers topped off we filled him in on the inner workings of our group. Now he gets it…………and he wants more. He takes our picture and asks for autographs. He even invites us back! And Thump Thump wants to hold AGM there. A match made in heaven……….or in DeLaVeaga.

Deez nuts

Deez nuts

Stay tuned for upcoming details.
And now back to trail……….which ended in a hilarious van ride back to the start. Mr Toads wild ride with drunk ass, half naked sweaty poison oak infested wankers. Lots of fondling going on and some confusion as to fingers and toes and orifices.
Vag was the big winner as he dove on top of unsuspecting van mates and became the instant boy toy for the ladies.
Religion was a sad affair back in the cemetery hosted by Accu.
Twat did you say got a patch for 100 hashes…..she said some poignant words about commitment and marriage and all…..break out the tissues.
We had some virgins…..one who has an aversion to beer but brought her own vodka….good thinkin missy.
Are we there yet?

Are we there yet?

Real Boring Bitch and Just Foot Pussy had no idea what the symbols mean and had a hard time with the simple circle.
Cold Smega Kamikazi preferred the company of the homeless encampment rather than stay on the perfectly marked trail and wander aimlessly with his friends.
Vag still has no idea what a wallaby is….despite our efforts to educate him about marsupials.
Dog Breath had many down downs for the usual stuff….and Six O Nine made an appearance at the end….he gets the annual NON RUNNER award.
Puff forgot his flashlight and there should get down downs next time.
So who speaks first?

So who speaks first?

Speaking of next time………..next time will be just in time for WHARF TO BARF….the greatest event of the ages. Four days of debauchery, four days of trails, four days of beer and Tito’s – which spells tits without the “o” and the apostrophe.
And only 9 more days till CumFarts Birthday…July 25th if you all want to know! Which will be celebrated during the 4 days of WTB. Shameless plug by the venerated scribe.
Maybe my butt will be healed enough by then for the requisite birthday spank tunnel.
in love and PO.
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Hippy Hash Trash 918

I will just quote the trail announcement to set the tone:
“Hugh has stepped away from her bong, the smoke has cleared. I found my laptop. This week trail will start at The Asti (715 Pacific) because that bar is a dive. Trail will be totally fucked up because I forgot I was haring this Thursday. I thought it was next week. Religion will be at the Parking Garage closest to the bar. There will be beer and weed.  A to B to A. See you wankers tomorrow, Hugh (ops I got this) Heiffer. 
P.S. Fun fact: I signed up for this trail because I did my first hash 10 years ago.
P.S.S. Puff no long will be hosting religion at is casa.”
The heifer herself

The heifer herself

TEN YEARS of haring and still she can’t get it together. We get the trail announcement like 30 minutes before the start. Wow man, we were going to meet at Puff’s but oh wow, we can’t meet at Puff’s, so……….wow…….cool….…..ummmmmm…………what  can I do……….Man……wow…….cool……….that was some good shit man………….wow…….look at all the pretty colors…….cool………..wow…………to find a new starting place………..wow………..…….cool……..peace……. and so on and so forth.
Hashers assemble at the Nasti

Hashers assemble at the Nasti

This is what we have to look forward to in our old age. Things are measured in hippy years…..just like we do in dog years.
Somehow we all assembled at the Asti and got our yearly dose of cigarette smoke inhalation.
That wrong way sign is ominous

That wrong way sign is ominous

Thankfully CFZ missed it cause she was late and got dropped off just as the opening circle was starting. Quite a crowd for a lousy 10 yr hash. Perhaps they were expecting bong stops instead of beer checks.

Actually it turned out to be a pretty lame, tame trail. Guess we finally deserved a break after months of arduous trails set along treacherous cliffs and steep elevations. Finally no more back breaking mountaineering. Finally a chance to leave the crampons and pick axe at home, leaving my hands free to share a toke or two along the boardwalk.
Finally a simple care free trail!
It would be a pretty view without all the wankers in the way

It would be a pretty view without all the wankers in the way

But hell no………..someone had to fuck it all up.
Someone had to go and add their own trail markings to utterly and udderly confuse the herd.
Some named Bakers D and Dung Fu.
A few other someones just had to run off and get a snack. Curtesy had a hankering for a kale salad. Must have been that good shit that gave him the munchies. Three others, dBased, Bakers and Rat Pussy, made a bee line for the Taco Bar.
It would have been nice if they shared……..they teach that lesson in Kindergarten.
Hippie should have set out little munchie snack baskets along the trail.
Cheers to trail being over!

Cheers to trail being over!

Instead we had to cross the treacherous Lost Boys Bridge, stoned out of our gourds, in search of vampires and Beer Check.
But it was worth it……………oh the views, oh the squeals coming from the Giant Dipper and Bacon Queff, Oh the cold, frosty beers lovingly placed in the cooler…those beers that Just Foot Pussy loves to fondle along with Bacon’s naughty bits. Oh  the aroma of something burning…………..and then it was over. Our brief respite,on the edge of a glorious sunset, among friends and bums, was fading quickly. We faced a long haul back to the parking garage for religion.
Dung Fu was the RA. His greatness atop the back of a pick up truck trying to corral the unruly stoners.
Down Downs were handed out amass along with the crappiest beer I have ever swigged. Avoid Kirkland Lite beer at all costs.
The new beer meisters think it is delicious. Thank you Just Foot Pussy and Bacon Queef.
They say “hashing is an experience…..it isn’t supposed to be that easy”.
Who knew?
A beautiful moment of Courtesy and his burrito captured

A beautiful moment of Courtesy and his burrito captured

Steamy B got called up for laying his own trail. I think Bakers and others were also in on this new game.
Dung Fu barked for the excessive talkers, Dog Breath and Curtesy to “Shut their Dick Holsters”.
Dog Breath , Dung Fu and Bakers were all wearing the same 50 shades of grey t shirt and we sang “can’t say the safe word song to them” as it seemed appropriate….get it? 50 shades…the movie….S&M, power exchanges, whips and chains………….OH NEVER MIND!
We had virgins who wowed us with their incredible humor…..let me recap…….”what kind of a bagel can fly?
Hmmmm.I don’t know…a PLANE bagel!!!  HA HA HA NOT.
Bakers got his 50 runs patch…..Our hippie hare celebrated 10 years of being in a stupor and wandering around Santa Cruz aimlessly. And the rest of us went to the taco bar at El Palomar for some proper grub.
A fun time was had by most.
On On On
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Hash 919

Hear Ye, Beer Ye!

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

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

DungFu Grip


the Magic Drag Queen

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Hash 917 – Beat your Meat

Even though this hash takes place in Santa Cruz county I could swear that we were literally in another state, like South Bumf*ck.

Impressive turn out!

Impressive turn out!

It took forever to go a few miles on some sick narrow one lane winding road to get to this homestead. It would have been easier to have a helicopter lower me down onto the property than to drive those treacherous roads…..and I’m not even talking about what happened as we tried to leave in the pitch dark blackness of the forest. Maybe I’ll talk about that later. It was traumatizing. I now have PTSD along with my usual STD. Grrrrrrr.

So, we all gathered at Drill Me’s forest compound….compounded by lots of parking issues.
The backyard was lovely, the grills were set up, the celebrity chefs were in house, and the knives were flying.
The tables were laden with all kinds of gastronomic delights. Anthony Bourdain would be proud.
Down the Rabbit Hole

Down the Rabbit Hole

After the usual pre trail lubing and butt sniffing, the hares, DBased and Drill Me were off.
Apparently there were 2 trails….one easy peasy downhill saunter for the lazy ass walkers. The other trail was a ball buster or a vaginal tingler, depending on your proclivities. Although it was a mere few miles it was as if we set out on an Ironman event. Up hills, down hills, sideways on hills, jumping across creeks, leaping over logs, scrambling bare knuckled up steep inclines. We braved brambles and poison oak and scorching heat. We trespassed across private property and around deer gates until we finally descended upon the sacred vineyard, where we can set our tired asses down on a hay bale and swig a cold one.
Oh and there was some sort of a view up at the top, but too much sweat was pouring into my eyes and I couldn’t see a thing. Waste of time in my book.
Oh hayyyyy there hashers

Oh hayyyyy there hashers

All I cared about was some lousy beer and that beautiful meat waiting for me back at the start. Yes, I am talking about Vaginal Repair Kit!!
After a proper rest and beer check most tackled the severely steep uphill back to the grill masters territory. Some crazy folks hitched a ride with Occasional Rapist and piled into that square box of a car thingy. CumFartZone, Vag and 2F*uckChuck ( the D.O.G ) plus a watermelon, hung on for dear life sitting on the lift gate.
The others squeezed inside in the little tuna can as we heaved up and down the bumpy road. Occasional R. thought it would be fun to do the whole thing in first gear, that is until the clutch started smoking! And we were all yelling “SHIFT!!”….Yes that was SHIFT not SHIT. Although we almost shit in our shorts.
Along the way we picked up a hitchhiking Princes, but she bailed after a few minutes in that lurching, smoking death trap.

More flattering photos have been taken...just never at a hash

More flattering photos have been taken…just never at a hash

Safely back at the ranch we all assembled for a our BBQ’d treats. The chefs called out our orders and the hungry hoard descended upon them like locusts.
After the crowd finished gorging themselves, Religion began in earnest.
Drill me was awarded a fake award for only ever doing 2 hashes….the very 2 hashes she has hared and hosted!! Quite a feat. Not sure that anyone else could top that.
Deadliest Snatch has a whopping 100 hashes under her crab pot and Stub Rub has half that amount, coming in at 50, poor little pathetic stub.
Hare host and co-hare

Hare host and co-hare

We had many visitors from Silicone Valley although they argued that they were not visitors and that this was really a joint hash…Ok Whatever!! Anything to make them happy and to believe that they are worthy.

It was Dual Tools Birthday so we rightly sang him the appropriate song – The Surf City rendition of “tiny buttholes” sung to the tune of tiny bubbles.
 I believe that one of our own created this catchy tune.
We had a few backsliders…Jizziki – workin and hurtin, ButtBalls, Little Anal Annie, TransCunt, Curtesy Flush, Bareback Unicrack.
Bareback got some sort of a hall pass. I think she and Curtesy have an “open relationship”….nah, not really…just kiddin. Don’t get any wild ideas people.
JunkPuncher ( another D.O.G ) made his last appearance with his doodads intact. I can see you all squirming in your seats right now because ya know what that means. Get out the sharp shiny scalpel and say “Sayanara baby”.

Nothing to see here folks

Nothing to see here folks

There was talk on naked trampoline antics but everybody was cold….so we tea bagged that idea.
We thanked our brave chefs, Jizz, Accuprick and ButtBalls.
We raised some serious funds for Second Harvest Food Bank.
We thanked our fearless hares, dBased and Drill Me.
And then we attempted our new tradition of Birthday spanking by creating the SPANK TUNNEL. It was a love fest. I can’t hardly wait for mine. I’ll bring some implements!!!
Apparently some folks….like WORM….had a little issue exiting the parking area. I won’t go into details but it was ugly. Thankfully the search and rescue team (Thump and others) pulled him to safety.
Others had a scary ride home in the darkness facing blinding headlights from oncoming traffic on a one lane road.
Maybe this hash needs to be a daylight event on a weekend DAY….so that people can safely get home.
It is a great event, but once darkness descends it is very tricky to navigate those roads.
Just my 2 pesos.
Nevertheless, thank you all for a lovely enchanted evening.
On On On
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Hash 916 – TIMMY’s annual torturing of the troops beneath the trees

West Remote Parking lot Deja Vu.
Weren’t we just here?
Oh yeah, we were just there and school was still in session so it was a bitch to find a parking space.
Is that enough flour?

Is that enough flour?

This may be the only nice thing I say about Timmy – he was sober enough to pick a date for his haring adventure that was actually after the school year and thus saved us much stress and aggravation…at least in the parking department.
As to the trail department….well that is another story entirely….which I will only recount bits and pieces.
I am sure he had good intentions, but after hopping several fences and scaling hillsides and dealing with the ever annoying checks –  some of the wankers were lead to a precipitous cliff edge with no visible safe trail to descend. All the clumps of flour led to this spot….but it was quite steep and unsafe…Not to mention the whole place was covered in Poison Oak.
I really thought I was on a Bear Gryls outdoor adventure test. I sucked it up and tried two different routes but after 3 failed attempts I gave up. Nevertheless some fools(Dog Breath and Dung Fu) disregarded my warnings and they leaped off the cliff and others (Pinky) must have slid down on their backside.

Chalk Talk

Chalk Talk

Miraculously no ambulances were needed, however Pinky took a mud bath of sorts to attempt PO removal. She learned that technique on one of the popular survival shows.
Maybe we all were on a survival mission and thus the overhead drone was secretly filming our adventures as we talked into our camouflaged hash name necklace microphone.
Perhaps those wandering cows were just the TV producers hiding inside a cow costume. Did you see the size of those cow pies? Pretty realistic if you ask me.
Shallow looks like she knows how to climb up on some wood

Shallow looks like she knows how to climb up on some wood

Back at base camp we forgot about the gruesome trail as we shared some trough start beers co-mingled with the religion beers. Who cares as long as we have some friggin beer.
So hard to keep all those different beers separated. Damn renegade beers……..to go along with the renegade cows and the damn renegade hare.
We had a few virgins hell bent on joke telling. Really…..These days is everyone a comedian??
Do they read up on the joke of the day website before they show up at their first hash?
For God’s sake how hard is it to drop trou?
We also chastised Timmy for the missing liquor and beer check.
After that letdown, we had some more sad, sobering news that our fearless RA – Religious Adviser- Dung Fu – is leaving us.
Terrified just looking at this photo!

Terrified just looking at this photo!

Was it something we said?

Was it the fact that nobody listens to you as you try to scream above the chatter and the din of drunks in a field, drunks on a railroad track, drunks on a bridge, drunks in a playground?
Are you feeling taken advantage of like a cheap whore?
You just give and give and give until there is nothing left in the keg?
You ingrates, you miscreants, you saucy savages, you cry and scream to yourself.
Dung Fu simply can’t take another minute of these whiny bitches and therefore he will be taking his bad ass self out of state. He is leaving and going far far away from you disrespectful weirdos. His passport has been renewed and he is flying the country of Cali.
Baker's dozen't hears the ghosts of wankers past

Baker’s dozen’t hears the ghosts of wankers past

Well not really….I just embellished this a bit…….but he really really is leaving and now we need to re-supply our Kleenex box because there was not a dry eye in the pasture after his announcement.

If anyone else is brave enough to step up as a temporary replacement, then do so at your own risk.
Otherwise……..safe travels.
On On On
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