Monthly Archives: May 2012

Hash Trash #633

Hash Trash #633

I like how Puff described his flash for this hash run, dBASED did turn Scotts Valley into Death Valley! The trail may not have been very long in distance–

, but the terrain was hell. There was a nice /number of Hash 633us this night, we started drinking at the best bar likely in SV, the Next Door. We even had a virgin Hare named  Zach show up, Hash 633Thmp- Thmp made him cum. Trail started out front of the bar and we crossed over Scotts Valley Drive and up Glenwood to the SV High School. This is where the hell all began. Trail was scetchy at best. Luckily the temperature in this death valley was a cool upper 60’s. Lucky for us.


You can’t say dBASED did not warn us in his announcement. He did say bring a machete and climbing rope, these would have been nice to have. Weeds we’re higher than our knees.Hash 633

I wore shorts which ended up working for me. Just Linda joined us, this is her 3rd hash run with us. Mother’s little felcher (MLF) and Sausage Slam made it out this night, and their baby hasher Brooke, her second hash count. They had the stroller but that did not deter MLF he pushed that stroller up both hills! A true hasher! I’ll let you view the map to see all the terrain, but basically up and down up and down and all around.Hash 633

Just Linda was able to find one of dBASED caches in the Gleenwood housing projects.


Dog Breath snagged the hare at end of trail, dBASEDs’ half minded effort to plan a trail back along the same road, again? He was snagged before for this same tactic.

Hasher’s we’re rewarded some champagne at beer check with an engagement announcement of myself and dBASED, only to find out there wasn’t enough for all to toast or even enough beer. dBASED! Luckily for him hasher’s didn’t attack as religion (and more –beer –cooler) wasn’t far off down the parking lot.


Down down’s for -back slider’s MLF and Sausage slamHash 633

, -Just Linda for refusing to pay or take off her hat during her down down,-TIMMY! for his 325th HASH!!,-Virgin Zach-he took the “one ball will do” to seriously and showed us all his left ball!, glad he listen’s to us harriettes!, – Dog Breath cause he’s dog breath, and for hare snag,-DFL down down for TWAT did you say?

and the hare!



Le Trash for Hash 632 by Princess Diarrhea

Princess Diarrhea here, reprezentin’ while the regular ladies who trash are MIA. Occasional Rapist and dBASED are wandering the busy asphalt trails of Noo Yawk. Shallow Hole and Waxi Pad are getting all “abbondanza!” in the Italian countryside. You know… slugging fine wine and mangia-ing fine Italian cuisine… which may only vaguely resemble what they’re slinging at Bocci’s Cellar. It’s under new ownership, so it’s anybody’s guess.

About a dozen of us half-burnt half-minds were soon lamenting the loss of the old bocci ball courts. Fret not–word on the street is that the paved-over gravel courts will be reborn as astroturf courts. None of us would have been playing bocci anyways because the soberness and general malaise of the group was undeniable. The barmaid was even turned away on at least two occasions due to no takers(!). Timmy! is cutting down his booze calories, Puff and Deep Stroke shared one Shock Top and backwash, and Hugh Heifer was swearing off the firewater after finally getting over that birthday week hangover. AccuPrick did his best to drive us to drink by telling perhaps the only Star Trek joke to ever incite a fatwa. He then spread some news that’s worthy of raising a glass to: $6 movies at Regal Cinema 9 on Tuesdays, y’all!!!

OK short and sweet–the trail loop in a nutshell: on left, around the tannery, up Golf Club Drive, on right at the railroad tracks, through the toilets of Heroin Hill, up the to Pogonip clubhouse, across meadows, and down through the woods to the bus yard beer check. Sounds like a quick trail. But oh it wasn’t. Not sure if it was the runners high, but at least we enjoyed the nature, sunset, Jesus rays on the meadows, birds chirping, flowers, and all that crap. Maybe the real joy was from us imagining hare Timmy! was being eaten by coyotes ahead because Timmy! is on a diet and was making us all suffer for it. Yeah, it was pretty. But the trail also had mosquito’s and the worst shiggy ever: critter and human poop stations throughout. We were calling the place Poopoonip because Timmy! must’ve been dropping scat along with the flour. I’d always been told the origins of the name Pogonip came from: polo, golf and nip (o’ booze). However, I’ve also read it’s from the Ohlone word meaning “icy fog”. It’s your call. Puff found a Lost Boy on the porch of the clubhouse who didn’t even realize he was on the real set of the movie. Aside from the clubhouse porch, surprisingly no hardcore junkies or vampires were on trail–only their excrement.

As FRB Deep Stroke, Thmp, Hugh, and I arrived at the bus yard beer check to claim that cold wet beer we’d long suffered for, we found at least half the pack had shortcut. See? Malaise.

Hugh was super excited to have found her first geocache ever on trail. dBASED will no doubt be jealous when he reads this! Thmp-Thmp helped himself to a party popper out of the geocache box. At beer check he banged Deep Stroke’s ear with it and My Little Bony was happy to catch the ribbon spew. The popper didn’t even scare off a nearby bobcat that was squatting to leave a crap (c’mon, everybody’s doing it!).

We all watched a couple of movies on Twat Did You Say?’s phone:

Watching movies at beer check? What a pack of lazy bastards! Ralph Crammed-In was even considering helping himself to the bus yard so he could drive us the three whole blocks to religion.

Some life was pumped into religion by a Ventures-style surf guitar band jamming at the rehearsal space next door. A dirty joke from Accu also got things rolling. Let’s hope that his good, funny c*nt joke will be redeeming enough to call off that fatwa. Did Hairy Potter and Accu then lead us in the Yogi Bear Song? Does a bear shit on trail? Thmp and I tag-teamed a tired Mike Tyson joke that bombed so bad we drank half our beer in shame before the down down. Deep Stroke the beer fairy was pouring ‘em deep, cheap, warm, and heady. Half the pack drank for shortcutting, so the punishment fit the crime.

My 25th hash was regally commemorated until my heartfelt acceptance speech was crushed by Hairy Potter rightfully telling me to can it. Another touching moment was hearing that the exact spot where Choka Cola had spewed on a prior hash was passed in reverence this very night.

On on on was back at Bocci’s where Johnny Campbell & The Bluegrass Drifters (coincidentally featuring a former hasher on standup bass) were up to some banjoin’ and some fiddlin’. We might’ve stayed longer for some boot-scootin’, but when the conversation turns to catching your parents having sex, it’s just time to go.

Hash Trash 631

Hash 631It all began, on the bend in Ben Lomond. Henfling’s, what a place. This was Hugh Heifer’s hangover birthday hash. She looked well relaxed having had the day off. On this night there was a small pack. dBASED, myself, TIMMY!, Puff TMDG, Deep Stroke, Thmp-Thmp. Princess Di-arreah.  Dr. Nappy Headed ho and Cumz out my nose of course stayed at camp. This was a short and sweaty trail, I say sweaty because the course was almost all up hill, all 1 mile of it!. dBASED was slow, he’s been down with kidney stones or something, running is slightly difficult for him (or anything else for that matter), and for the first time in my hashing dayz, he was DFL! He even got a ride back to religion. That is a first. Ok trail was actually kind of nice. The weather was very warm and pleasant. The houses we’re nice to look at. We even saw a couple of  female fawn boxer’s on trail, Nipple butt was hoping to get some action, but these girls wouldn’t have it! Beer check was just off Glen Arbor, in the back of Hugh’s truck. Hash 631We all deserved this cold one! Then we headed down hill and down around the bend over the bridge to Hugh’s pad for more cold beers, yummy psychedelic chocolate cake made by HH daughter, black cherry and creamed jello shots, cheese and cracker’s! What a feast. Down down’s we’re given to Hairy fuck 2.5 and Cumm Lord for showing up and not hashing. Myself and dBASED got down down for GPS tech. fuck up for having different mileage to report, (of course mine was correct 1.14 miles to be exact). There was a horse on trail and dBASED and Princess Di-arreha got a down down for horse mischief, or something to that effect.  RA was Deep Stroke and her beer fairy was Thmp-Thmp, they did a fine job, and then the hare…. Happy belated birthday HH! Thanks for the hot and sweaty trail!

Hash 631

On and on we go…….

Occasional Rapist:)

Hash 630-Red Dress:What a bloody Red Mess!


On-on! And on and on and on. So went trail for Hash 630. Apparently seeking some vengeance on their kennel mates for some imagined wrong we’ve done them, the tri-powered trio of haring harriettes, Hugh Heifer, Occasional Rapist and Shallow Hole led the litter on a alcohol-fueled fiasco May third, twenty-twelve.

While personally I would prefer to cease further reminiscing at this point, I have been charged with the duty of relating the details of Hash 630 to the asses of the masses. I believe this Trash’s only value will be to serve as a warning to those that come after us.

We assembled our traveling kennel in the dark, dank confines of the venerable watering hole The Rush Inn. The owner, Rick, either likes us or, more likely, finds us mildly distracting and somewhat amusing and promised to provide us with a face-feed post-hash. I wonder if he now regrets this promise made in haste? Too late now, buddy! The Rush filled with red dresses in all shapes and manner. The Flash will be far better at showing you some of the obscene sights that were seen this evening. Besides, most likely you would not believe me were I to try and put into words the hideous attire some people are not ashamed to be seen wearing on the main street of the town they live in. We waited a little longer than usual to allow time for the over-the-hill trouble makers, Foot Loose & Panty Free and her lapdog Arabian Goggler, to arrive. No sooner did they show than the raving maniacs from Can’d H3, Monterey, slithered in the back door. We were cursed with the appearance of Boner Malfuntion and two of his henchmen, Cougar Stamp and Virgin Jason. Bringing a Virgin to a hash thirty miles from home shows what mental midgets these jokers are. Eventually the hares tired of drinking, well, more likely they were running low on money. Consequently they delivered the uninformative Instructions of Trail these three are noted for and outed themselves. The pack returned to drinking.

After the passage of ten minutes, Rush Inn owner Rick said he’d love a picture of our gang so one and all stumbled into the light and fulfilled his request. I assume he will either use it as a dart board or will tell his beertenders to limit us to six beers per person should we ever come in again.

After the passage of fifteen minutes, GM TIMMY summoned more than thirty hounds to the parking lot behind the Rush and had us voice our stupidity by announcing our names for all the world to hear. That being done, the pack wandered back through the Rush and, using all our will power, continued through and out the front door. Trail took us across the Town Clock Park to the intersection of North Pacific, Water, Mission and Pacific Avenue. Guess where we were headed? But of course, Pacific. Now, much like the Perp Walk law enforcement subjects the worst of the worst to, we began the shame of traipsing down the main street of our town huddling together for safety’s sake. While no one actually threw anything at us, one person threw-up in our direction. I gave out a number of our business cards to persons I never hope to see again. After giving a brief description of our premise to one man, he said, I don’t understand. He’s one of those I hope we never see again. The trip down Pacific was rather quick though, aided no doubt, by the fact most people ducked into the nearest doorway hoping we did not single them out for special attention. A few people pushed their plates away from them as we passed the outdoor dining area at Betty’s Burger. The hares wrote a number of bizarre, cryptic messages along Pacific, none of which merit repeating.

Upon reaching Laurel Street, trail made an on-left and came to Front Street. Across Front was a check which when solved directed the clan to cross over the river, mercifully using the bridge, and continue onto Broadway. This dangerous section of trail had only one significant feature: we passed the one-mile mark. Other than that we were just happy to have survived our encounter with gang turf and lived to tell about it.

Making it to Ocean Street was a major accomplishment and, better yet, as trail continued on-up the Broadway hill, we said goodbye to any potential skirmishes with gang-bangers, hoodlums or the street walkers that frequent the 7-11 on the corner. The downside is we had a hill to climb. After that task was accomplished, marker made the merry members of this madness on-right onto Ocean view Avenue. This is undoubtedly the best one-long-block walk in the Cruz, especially the homes with the view. Apparently, the Bum Wine check was either missed or the bottle not collected by the DFL’s. Puff received a phone message from Hugh Heifer Friday upon arriving home asking him to retrieve the bottle but it was long gone by the time he arrived. Being familiar with Hugh’s taste in wine, I bet there were three or four sick winos near here the next day.

Most of us were anticipating a Beer Check in Ocean View Park. I mean really now, we’ve reached the mile and a half mark and it’s a five minute walk to Norm & Pearl’s where Religion will be held. However, just shy of our anticipated goal, trail turned the troops on-left onto Ocean View Way and a-way from the park. Once past Ocean View Park is when this trail went to the Devil.

Quaint Ocean View Way was followed by an on-left onto Branciforte Avenue which led to an on-left onto Windham Street which was followed by an on-right onto Pine Street. Yes, you’re correct. All those twists and turns did was add length to a trail rapidly becoming cumbersome. This section of Pine had two bad features. First, we passed the two-mile mark and are STILL heading away from the site of Religion. Secondly and even worse, we all know what awaits us in one block: the multiple-outlet intersection of Pine, two directions of Cayuga and Clinton Street. Checks with more than two options have always stymied Surf City half-minds and here we have FOUR possibilities. To hasten this Trash along somewhat, I’ll reveal which one we took: None! We eventually stumbled across trail leading down one of the numerous Seabright-area alleys off Pine. This was taken one block to Idaho where we were directed to on-left to Mountain View where we made an on-right.

Mountain View was taken until it ends….and STILL trail continues! We took the locals-only path leading to the (accursed) railroad tracks beside Murray Street and followed flour on-left along the tracks and then were directed across Murray to Cypress Street. Mercifully, we were treated to the Beer Near mark and one and all headed for the rear entrance of the recently-sold Brady’s Yacht Club. I will not detail the atrocities I witnessed here. For further details you may wish to speak in private with Deep Stroke or possibly Cougar Stamp.

We’ve finally finished this trail. Well, two and a half miles isn’t TOO bad I guess. Wait. I spoke too soon. We’ve just been told to go out the front door, turn on-right and look for marker. WHAT? We’re NOT done YET? Blasphemous!

And so it was done. Trail led down Seabright to East Cliff Drive where an on-right was indicated. At the entrance to Seabright Beach, JN was viewed meaning Jello Shots Near so onto the beach we went. Beside some dead wood we found co-hare Hugh Heifer. That sounds somewhat redundant, doesn’t it? Dead wood and Hugh Heifer. Anyway, Hugh handed out Jello shots till no one wanted anymore and then…and then… We undertook the on-in to Norm & Pearl’s. On-in added another mile to the almost three we’d already done. This almost equals the length of the Death March from Aptos to Capitola TIMMY & Puff threw at us two weeks ago. This excessive running must be laid to rest!

Accuprick was tonight’s Religious Adviser and he selected Rosie as his Beer Fairy. I assume he wished to try and keep her under control tonight as she is a notorious troublemaker. He had minimal success with this tactic.

Numerous down-downs were awarded but it was a rather unruly crowd tonight. I’ll mention just a few of the notable crimes punished tonight. Boner Malfunction for flashing his butt along trail, Wicked Retahted for not have mastered the correct pronunciation of his name yet, Just Andrea for letting it slip that she has a propensity for orgies (any takers?) and Virgin Jason telling a way-too-long (not to mention lame) joke. Oh, yeah. The hares. Prior to this trail, there were but a few categories of humans I disliked: lurkers, stalkers, weenie-wavers, bondage aficionados, pedophiles and self-published poets. I have now added the Trio of Terror these harriettes proved to be as hares to this list. I thank the three of you for affirming your half-mindedness for us.

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 sixth day of May in the year of our Hash two-thousand twelve


Puff the Magic Drag Queen

Acting Scribe

Surf City H3


Back to the Rush where Rick had been patiently waiting for us to return. The food was just fine and a good time was had by all. When things began to get weird, I decided to leave. However, I stumbled across extreme debauchery in the street behind the Rush. View the Flash if you are strong of stomach and/or weak of mind.



Hash 629, a boring affair

After the previous week mini-marathon set by Timmy and Puff the pack was look for some relief in our hare du-jour Banana Basher and they got it in one of Surf City’s most boring trails ever. It was so boring, Banana never even set a false. There was 5 feet of shiggy, but otherwise it was a 1.87 mile pavement pounder with an amazing 26 feet of elevation gain.  The only Surf City Hashes more boring have been Piss ‘N Booths march to the sea (which I missed) and my trail which had only 4 right turns. At least it had some falses.

I arrived a bit late to the hash and I followed the first order business when you are late – look for  flour as you driving. I didn’t find flour, but I did find the hare. However, he was only a block from the start, so not much advantage gained.

Before I arrived, Timmy is rumored to have chipped the unchipped martini glass in the Crepe Place.

There was some confusion at who was the scribe as I arrived. In that Shallow Hole had been the scribe the previous week, it had been determined it was Occasional Rapist turn. However, The Rapist was commandeered to a work assignment (a meeting) and had to miss this Hash in theory. I say in theory, as she paid anyway and is included in the Hash Count. I had agreed to take her place this week, but as I arrived, Puff indicated Shallow Hole was to be the scribe. Puff recalled my recent failure at scribing (did anyone other than Occasional Rapist and Puff notice?) and thought Shallow Hole was a better idea. He also noted Shallow Hole’s success at being Hash Cash the week before and offered that to her as well. Shallow Hole declined both offers and I had a job to do.  (Note that Puff will be the scribe for the Red Dress Run.)

Round the first corner, I came upon Shallow Hole and Deep Stroke who seemed to have forgotten that Winter is no longer with us. They claimed they were so warmly attired because they are tender sweet young things.

We turned about 6 more turns and there was Banana huffing and puffing at the beer check, even though he had been done for 10 minutes.

As Deep Stroke arrived at the beer check, she asked for the second week in a row if she had won the race?

As Dog Breath arrived, he claimed to be worried about Poison Oak from the 5 feet of shiggy and said he needed someone to pee on it to sanitize it. He wander if Deep Stroke could help out.

Broke Bench Mountain arrived at the beer check and proceed to initiate some stretching. WTF? He is also the only Hasher to notice the new hash count format.

After the long and grueling route to Puff’s house for religion, Accuprick assumed the role of RA and Butt Balls as his assistant.  Butt Balls was to be Beer Fairy, but Princess Diarrhea was dying to do it, so her desires were rewarded. Accupricks’ first act of business was to hand out free lube for the women.

Hugh Heffer sat in the stoner section as usual.

dBASED was given a down down for looking like a Hare Krishna.

It was revealed that there was portal into Puff’s bedroom where you could see his porn and Cuff My Muff said she had some of it. I was going to ask why I’ve never heard of this portal before, but now I’m scared I know. Deep Stroke thought the portal surely revealed Candy and Dildo’s.

Pearl Necklace was brought to the alter for peeing someone’s front yard where he could clearly be seen out the front door.

Wicked Retahted was brought to the alter for stealing beer from the alter before religion. Wicked – the good stuff is in the cooler!

I’ve seen a disgusting trend among Hashers in the region for which I think Chocka Cola and Hairy Potter started. Next was Douche of Hazzard, Arabian Goggler and most recently Morning Missle. The crime is to hideous to even name, but Chocka Cola and Hairy Potter were punished for completing the deed in the past month. Next we need to punish Hairy for not getting Chocka pregnant!

Hairy and Chocka
Princess Diarrhea had an underwear story to tell. Apparently Thmp-Thmp wants to design some sort of Hash TShirt that has a Y Front. I think Banana Basher would look especially flashy in such an outfit!

Banana asked if a man falls in the bedroom, can you hear it? I’m thinking he must have a lot of practice.

Pussy Galore was granted a down-down for sex in the circle with Broken Bench Mountain.

Finally, comments on trail were received. The newbies liked it. Shallow Hole said it was to short. She was reminded it was trail she was commenting on trail and not what she was to observe in the bedroom later that evening. Naturally, there was universal condemnation from the rest of the pack.

Accuprick then asked the pack go home (or go to the 007) and get a piece. And I did. And there was much rejoicing.