The Crepe Place always guarantees a great hash turnout. And it’s still winning over new fans because I heard Cumcerto announce, “this is my new bar!” What is it about this place? It’s got booze, so that’s good enough for 99.99% of us. Central SC location? Yeah, that helps. Maybe it’s just the right touch of funkiness that makes us feel right at home. Fans of The Residents, who were playing across the street at the Rio Theatre, were also digging The Crepe with us. They’re odd folks who love a weird band. Shallow Hole asked me to describe the band but all I could come up with was “uh, experimental.”
Although the pack was large, we were missing Choka Cola and Hairy Potter. They’re busy smooching, feeding, burping, diapering, rocking, and dressing up their cute new little girl, Mykah. We’re gonna miss them for a little while, but let’s hope the whole famn damily will be joining us for a stroller-friendly trail someday soon.
Twat Did You Say?’s edjumication didn’t cockblock her from hashing this week, so she showed up–fully warmed up for trail, thanks to sadist and personal trainer Deep Stroke. Monterey CAN’d hashers Free Little Willy, GhettoMan and Virgin Candace came across the bay to join us. I’m thinking that Willy is bionic or something. Just last month, he hared a CAN’d hash in a knee brace. That knee was all swollen, nasty and jacked up, but that didn’t keep him from haring a 10 mile trail! Hardcore. Visitors, Virgins and hashers old and new from far and wide were fired up and ready to face a looooong trail to be laid by the merciless Timmy!!! This time he was joined by the fruit of his loins, maiden co-hare Pink Cherry Licker.
Trail headed straight to the corner of Morrissey and Soquel Ave. to a troublesome check. It was a real team effort, but Cumcerto eventually got us on the right track down Water St. Trail was headed directly to the scene of last week’s heinous crime that resulted in two fallen SC Police Officers. We paid our respects as we cut on-right down N. Branciforte. The neighborhood behind DJ’s Mini Mart was a little sketchy for several reasons. Within the space of two blocks, a hare ran out of chalk and two consecutive backchecks were laid. WTH?? Momentary pack chaos ensued. Our tantrums were soon soothed by a bottle of Adult Chocolate Milk found at liquor check on Market St.
As we continued down Market St., fire trucks and sirens were whizzing by. We hoped they weren’t coming to tend to a hare ahead. The sirens only made the residents even more nervous after last week’s crime spree and our whistles weren’t helping matters. I handed out a few SCH3 calling cards to those who were drawn outside to peek and wonder at our little goober parade.
Somewhere on Emeline St., a YBF was called by Dog Breath. After much confusion and turmoil, we learned there was actually no YBF. We were F’d by one of our own! After a short jaunt down Emeline, we were back on Market St. After the misread and mislaid trail markings, Twat had had just about enough of this B.S. and was ready to turn around. Luckily I was able to keep her moving forward again towards beer check. Eyez on the prize!!!
A well-placed check reunited much of the pack at the top of the hill at Goss St. Deep Stroke and Thmp-Thmp went their own way down Fairmount because Deep Stroke wanted to play her little game of “LET’S R*CE!” Hey, sometimes whatever gets you to beer faster is what’s called for. Cuff My Muff, Occasional Rapist and the rest of the pack trudged through the Banana Belt to the Morrissey bridge crossing. We were all ready to get this trail over with, already.
Behind Safeway, a dark shadow and a beast were sitting on the sidewalk. Not uncommon in this town. When we were almost close enough to trip over her, we realized it was Hugh Heifer, who had beefed it and wounded her rump roast. Calf down! Apparently calves don’t have such great night vision without headlamps. Her trail partner and guide dog Kai hadn’t shepherded her around the patch of dark wonky sidewalk, either. I helped her up and she hoofed it along to nearby beer check behind the old Staff of Life. I guess her trail wounds were nothing a few jello shots and a decent beer selection couldn’t help.
It was a long trail and it sucked. We were happy to finally make it to Puff the Magic Drag Queen’s castle for down downs. AccuPrick RA’d and Just Jerri was beer fairy. Puff was chastised for completing 600 hashes. How can anybody be that consistent? Well, except for Twat who claims to masturbate every single night. Wicked Retahted did not join us on trail because his back is fucked up from surfing. It may have kept him off trail tonight, but nothing will keep him from surfing again tomorrow! Beermeister Heifer pulled down her pants to show us her trail wounds, but was disgusted by the dirty down down song she got for it. Just Charles and Just Jen were welcomed from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. Hmm…Ethiopia is next door to Kenya, so we can only assume they can r*n even faster than the wind because they have the extra motivation of finding beer at the end of this r*ce.
Schlong Division and Slonad were backsliders with no excusable excuse. Just Brian was toughing out -15° in Minnesota last week. Deep Stroke was away in search of deep powder. Cumcerto and Deep Stroke were busted for hashus interruptus last week. Deep Stroke made Cumcerto leave mid-hash so she could move Deep Stroke’s rig while she was vacationing in Tahoe. That is straight up criminal. Up for debate was shortcutting: is it honorable? dBASED votes YES. Virgin Candace told a joke about a cantaloupe. I’ll leave that to your imagination. Whatever you come up with has gotta be better than her joke was. Free Little Willy and GhettoMan made her come. Just Brian was named Plastic Pussy and he actually likes it (the name, not just the toy). I think barfly My Little Bony and backslider Rod Lover somehow managed to avoid down downs because they were already getting their jump start on on-on-on over at Double Oh Seven.
And the hares… those rat bastards.
Next week Hash #676 starts at JJ’s Saloon in Soquel. Cuff My Muff and Occasional Rapist will be your hare pair. Cuff has been bragging about the sheer awesomeness of her trail, so be prepared for a big letdown. Enjoy the punishment for me because Thmp and I will be in Palm Springs for Betty Ford, bitches!