Monthly Archives: June 2016

Hash Trash # 859 on 6/16/16

859barHo to Housewife and Occasional Rapist’s Beerthday Aloha Hash

It’s Gemini season, and all the coolest hashers are celebrating birthdays! Ho to Housewife and Occasional Rapist brought the pack back to Pleasure Point to the Corner Pocket for a Hawaiian themed hash.  Personally I’ve never been in that bar before.  There was the smell of cigarettes, but nothing shadier than the other dive bars in Santa Cruz.  The news was reporting some kind of shooting and police activity in the area, but luckily we did not see anything of the sort.859hares

I got 4.69 miles on the Eagle trail. We went left on Portola, right on 24th with a little zig zagging to 17 th Avenue.  Not sure where the Eagle trail started, but dBASED had plenty of time to write “Pre Lay” next to almost every mark.  There are no rules in the hash, remember?  dBASED is one of the main reasons that Hares pre-lay anyway.  He’s the only hasher who purposely goes out on trail with the intention of catching the Hares.  I guess if you hash for that many years in the same area it gets pretty boring and you need to find ways to amuse yourself.   Trail went through Shoreline Middle School and Simkins Swim Center parking lots to the little dirt trails.  There was a crappy section of railroad tracks complete with broken glass and a bum.  Before exiting the tracks onto 7th Avenue, there was a big pile of white stuff that resembled flour. It looked like the Pillsbury Dough Boy got murdered there.  There was a loop around the harbor and Cock Throbbin and I got to listen to a little bit of music from the Crows Nest Beach Party.  Trail 859beercheckalong the ocean, along East Cliff Drive.  That hill is one of my least favorite spots along the Wharf to Wharf r*ce course.  There was a little zig zagging around to Sunny Cove beach.  Fap Jack was guarding the liquor check, yummy Pina Coladas on the steps down to the beach.  We crossed the beach and went up to the road again.  We ended up back on East Cliff and through some Catholic silent retreat convent run by nuns.  And they say Nuns have to take an oath of poverty!  I wouldn’t mind living in an ocean front convent.  I don’t think I would like the silent part though.  Beer check was on 20th at the end of the road.  Someone saw Puff almost running by and directed him to beer check.  My guess is the DFL drank the rest of the liquor check and then stumbled the rest of the way.

859foodReligion was at Wicked Retahted’s house. The pack was greeted with a bonfire and Island music.  The Hares cooked up a big Hawaiian feast and it was awesome!  Accuprick was RA and Just Shay was beer Fairy.  My Little Bony drank for not remembering a song (he did the Wanker trail).  Project Cumway and Just Foot Pussy drank for being backsliders.  Wicked was serenaded with the retard song.  A bunch of wankers (Wicked, Just Walter, Fingernips,859naming Cumfart Zone, My Little Bony, Rod Lover and Just Shay, etc) drank for not making the liquor check.   Puff drank for almost missing beer check.  Rod Lover celebrated his 150th and Pink Cherry Licker celebrated her 175th Surf city hash!  Get a life!  There was a naming!  It was Just Emily’s 5th hash.  There was plenty of material to work with.  It was a close call between “Taco Tramp” and “Shut the Fuck Up!”.  Taco Tramp won out.  She thinks Taco Bell is “sex food”.  Welcome to the hash!  Virgin Dee told a lame joke.  Taco Tramp made her cum.  And last but not least, the Birthday Hares………..



Happy Birthday, Fuck You!

On On,

Shallow Hole

Hash Trash # 858 on 6/9/16

New Kids On My Cock and Fap Jack lured the pack to Callahan’s this week with promises858hare of shitty 3+ mile Turkey, 6+ mile Eagle trails and a keg.   They got the shitty trail right.  Trail started out the back door of the bar, down May Street.  The first check was a particularly tricky one on the corner of Hubbard and Market.  The FRB’s were treated to running up the big hill on Berkeley Way to find a false trail.  Then to another false trail along the Branciforte Creek trail.  I started out running with my BFF (big furry friend) Poon Doggie, but was soon rejected.  When he saw his Daddy on trail, he stopped in the middle of the path and told me in dog language that he preferred to go with him.  I think I need to start bringing him treats.  True trail went straight on 858packMarket, to Curtis, around that neighborhood, through a little dirt trail in back of an apartment complex.  There was a LC that was written upside down, so it took a few half minds to figure out what it was.  We got a bottle of fireball.  Yay!  Trail continued through a new housing development of cookie cutter homes 5 feet away from each858LC other, back out to Market Street towards Branciforte Drive.  The Eagles headed up the big dirt hill into Delaveaga Park.  I was with dBASED at this point.  The FRB’s, Dung Fu Grip, Fucked Over Fest and Achy Breaky Snatch were up ahead of us.   After we got to the top of the hill, the trail cut off to the right on a single track trail.  There was another liquor check, but we couldn’t find it.  There was poison oak and picker bushes everywhere so we didn’t search that hard.   I’m sure it wasn’t worth it anyway.  We followed trail up through the golf course, down Upper Park Road, and left on Delaveaga Park Drive.  At the end of the road, we ran into one of the Hares.  New Kids made it clear that he was done with trail and we didn’t snare him.  He was out there at the end of the road laying a back check.  So we played the back check game, turned around and found trail again on Elk Street.  Beer Check was a Pinky and Fap’s place on Rooney Street.  I got only 3.44 miles, but Dung Fu also ran Eagle and got > 6 miles.  Somehow we missed part of trail.

858RA'sReligion was in the back room at Callahan’s and was pretty much a shit show. The keg didn’t last very long, but lack of alcohol  didn’t keep hashers from getting loud and obnoxious.  There was a futon, so Pinky, Achy Breaky Snatch and I got to put our feet up, relax and enjoy the drunken escapade.  I tried NOT to think about what cooties were on the futon or what nastiness has gone on there in the past.  I took a shower as soon as I got home.  Dung Fu grip and Accuprick 858religionwere Co-RA’s for the evening.  Just Emily, Just Shay and Just Mars sang “the pants song”.  Not sure if they made it up or if it was an actual song.  There was a long an boisterous version of Alouette with Cumfart Zone acting out the parts.  Virgin Clarity bailed so Just Emily did her stunt down down.  Steamy Baanorrhea and New Kids drank for blood on trail.  The local flower lady came in the bar and interrupted Religion.  She wasn’t going away, so the festivities stopped while a few hashers bought flowers from her.  There was a long version of Chicago.  Bareback Unicrack drank for not doing trail, and Courtesy Flush drank for 858haresarriving late and trying to find trail on his bike.  And the Hares…………..

On On,

Shallow Hole

Hash Trash 857 – Fap and Shallow’s Beerthday

Last week brought us out to celebrate the birthing of Fap Jack ans Shallow Hole, my deepest condolences to their families. We met at Castaway’s Bar on Portola. Apparently, there is some sort of professional sporting event going on right now so many hashers and mortals were surrounding the television with eyes hazed over from the evil glow of the machine.

The only real direction we got about trail was that there was a turkey eagle split, which many missed…. which might be because I laid a pack arrow next to a hare arrow that wasn’t very clear when I saw the pack on a street ahead. Maybe I shouldn’t carry chalk? Ok, I will stop immediately.

I THINK the T/E split was at Gladys and Nova, which if you followed my pack arrow….. you went directly to Nova and soon found yourself in the Capitola village, then risking your life and sanity crossing the train tressel. I have a height phobia and cursed and screamed at the hares during my entire crossing. If the crossing wasn’t bad enough you had to either jump a fence or wiggle under it at the end before a jaunt through the Jewlbox then taking Capitola Rd down to 41st, where people started to realize they were on the Eagle trail when they actually wanted to be on the turkey trail. Too late now guys!

We took Brommer down to 30th which eventually hooked us up with the butterfly forest path that goes along the backside of Moron Lake. LC was stashed right after you entered the path where you could also play on a tree swing. We took the path all the way down to the ocean then eventually linked back up with East Cliff before reaching beer check at the point.

The waves were wild and the sky was gloomy but this didn’t prevent Dung Fu & Dog Beath from entertaining the idea of a swim. After we all convinced them that we didn’t know CPR and that their dicks would end up lodged inside them for several day from the cold, they passed on the ocean dip this time! After enough cold and gusty winds we decided to head for religion which was being held at Wicked’s place.

Wicked welcomed us with good tunes, a warm fire and plenty of seats to park our asses in. RA for the night was Dung Fu. There were many crimes to be celebrated, Thmp and Deadliest Snatch were given down downs for something that I can’t remember, Hugh skipped the trail tressel and My little Boney skipped trail entirely. Shady Curtains tried to give me a down down for my pack arrow but really, it’s always the hare’s fault. Cum Fart Zone tried to read us a provocative story but started a book burning instead. Shady was given a down down for never cumming anymore, NCOMC celebrated his 125th analversary and TIMMY celebrated his 525th. We had no patches to give, suck is up boys. Randi Bambi was given a down down for ball exposure from his short shorts and last but not least, THE HARES!

Join the hash tonight at Callahan’s, both a turkey and an eagle trail will be provided by NCOMC.

On On Half-Minds

Hash Trash 856 – Can’d Invasion

Hello Friends and Lovers!

It is I, Dung-Fu Grip, guest scribing after one of our official scribes left the continent, and the other two just, uh, didn’t come.

This last week saw the “good” folk of Monterey cum north for a Can’d Invasion of our humble beach community. We’ve been seeing less of our Southern brethren of late, and if this trail is any indication, that’s probably a trend for the best. They promised a short shitty shiggy-filled ‘Murica trail, so I guess I’ve only got myself to blame for any disappointment.

We met in a neighborhood in Aptos, where we proceeded to chug beers, suck jello shots, swill wine, and chat with the families passing down the road. Fucked Over Fest arrived with his dog sticking out of his moon roof, PCL apparently crashed her car on the way TO the hash, which is a truly incredible achievement, and Courtesy Flush brought a satellite phone for some reason. It apparently could send texts from anywhere in the world, making it a bizarre fusion of 80’s and early 2000’s technology.

After doing a surprising good job warming the local community to our little social club, we circled up and headed down the sole path into the woods. I want to critique the trail here, but there was shiggy and pretty greenery and we had to hop across logs over a stream to get to a ‘Murica themed jello shot check. It was pretty sweet.

Somewhere around there, TIMMY!!! decided that staying dry was for losers and gracefully dismounted into the water.

I went up the hill at the following check where I found no marks, but rather four used condoms scattered amongst a series of bike jumps, which suggests mountain biker orgies are pretty safe. That’s cool.

True trail led across a narrow single-track where the FRBs had a stand-off with a muggle and his dog on a cliff-side. After a brief staring contest, the civilian backed down the trail and allowed the mass of frothing r*cists to pass unmolested.

Down and around and through the redwoods we hopped, turning a corner to find our hares in full regalia waiting with a pile of duff beers. SCH3 has spoiled me for hash beer a little, I admit, and I begrudgingly choked down a Natty Ice. It was just as gross as I was expecting.

Beer Check was also located right where a group of cyclists wanted to pass. They gathered up below us, and began to confer in hushed whispers and then, their courage mustered, attempted to pass through us. We responded with a rousing two-cheeked salute. As they did not stop, I assume these bikers were a separate group from the stunting fornicators. One can only hope that the woods of Aptos are home to a Dirty Shame style gang war between factions of mountain bikers.

The hares departed beer check, and more hashers arrived, including Genital Tongs who reached through the pile of shit beer to find cans of Sierra Nevada. Goddammit!

From the beer check we meandered down, and then up, and after a distressingly short distance we once again spotted our hares lounging by their vehicle. We were back to the start, and trail was at an end in less than two miles. Fucking tease of a r*n. At least there was lots of wet bush.

My disappointment in the trail’s paltry length was quickly muted by screwdrivers served out of the hares’ car.

A minute later a few more hashers crested the hill into the finish. 5 Finger crouched down to get an action shot, and Dog Breath galloped towards him shouting, “Don’t move!” and attempted to vault over the waiting photographer, who promptly tried to move out of the way. There was a split second where time slowed down, and I imagined all the ways this was about to go wrong. None of them came to pass. I’m not really sure how that happened, but if 5 Finger happened to actually take a photo of that, it would be much appreciated!

Dog Breath then opened the back of his car to reveal a pile of margarita ingredients, and so the end of trail became a buffet of cocktails.

Religion was held just into the woods in little natural redwood amphitheater. Our Can’d visitors were brought up and elected to do this disjointed spastic dance. PCL was brought up for her vehicular mishap, as well as losing and then finding the hash chalices. Now, I was on my second cocktail, it was getting dark, and I was trying to RA while not falling off the log I was standing on, but I think the “found” chalices seemed awful different from the lost ones. Just sayin’.

Let’s see… TIMMY!!! drank for taking a swim and finding a flag; Penis Penis Penis drank for losing said flag; Achy Breaky, Fucked Over Fest, Dog Breath, and yours truly drank for mooning the mountain bikers; Hangs Loose fell off something; and Princess Di(arrhea) and Deadliest Snatch elected not to do trail.

Our hares of 5 Finger Discunt, Penis Penis Penis, and Randi Bambi were at last brought to the alter for their shitty trail. “Them, them…” you know the rest.

With circle firmly dug up by the dogs, and the pack suitable inebriated and hungry, we proceeded to On-on-on at Burger. Burgers were eaten, and beer was drunk, including Founder’s KBS on tap. I have been trying to drink this beer for years at this point, and finally getting to sample it was like angels dancing upon my palate. But, like, sexy leather-clad angels. It’s good.

From there, the hash went in peace, and some doubtlessly got a piece!