Well, after a 2 week hiatus from hashing I ( CFZ) showed up late to the party….apparently missed the killer shrimp/avocado combo, the hot java with booze and the fluffy fantastic homemade whipped cream and other gastronomic delights. CRAP!! Bah f*ing Humbug.
When I arrived the pack was already off on the pre-laid trail but as I am parking I run into them….well not literally…..but they are not hard to miss…with their silly sweaters and reindeer headbands, annoying blinking lights glaring, red tights and candy cane socks.
So I try to play catch up….what is up with the pre-lay I ask? Nobody seems to really know what’s going on and what exactly is the point of this circle jerk exercise.
It seems that at every street corner dBased is hovering around the pack like a hungry vulture trying to make sure all the hounds follow numerous and excessive Turkey/Eagle splits. The pack is quite befuddled by his presence. Like Pavlov’s dogs they are accustomed to a certain behavioral pattern…the hare leaves 15 minutes early and the pack follows the markings, eager to catch the hare. But in this instance the hare was in their face the whole time. So what to do with this recalcitrant hare??
I could think of a few things!
But I’d rather think of getting warm and out of the cold…..as did a few other folks who finally bailed on the “trail”. We sauntered back to the start but found ourselves locked out of the condo….not to worry though as we performed a quick B&E (breaking and entering) and made a beeline to the booze and leftover scraps of salsa and chips.
Soon after the rest of the gang showed up Occasional broke out the real food that had been hiding in the oven! Authentic tamales from Watsonville. There is a God/goddess/Santa!!!
These were a big hit especially doused in that zippy green sauce. Lots of licking and slurping going on. Think food orgy with clothes on.
For religion we gathered around the fire pit for the usual nonsense. The big winner of the night was Puff who has logged in 875 hashes!!
And speaking of Puff….he graciously handed out his annual holiday gifts to all in attendance. What a stand up guy! I take back all the snide remarks I have made behind his back about those outdated OP’s!!
Oh and before I forget We did have a naming…..for the dog belonging to bakers doesn’t….and it shall now be known as short stack.
Seems fitting and keeps with the ever present food theme
In the end it was a lovely evening hosted by Dbased and occasional rapist with a little help from their friends
So in keeping with the spirit of this frosty holiday season just remember a few things
1. You are a Hasher
2 there are no rules
3 you’re perfect just the way you are
4 we are a very inclusive group which is why you were are allowed to join despite your personal problems, bad hygiene and inability to get laid
5 it’s not just all about the drinking but as my aunt Charlotte who lived to be 105 would say “it couldn’t hurt”!
6 take a moment to remember those who have passed and those who maybe having health challenges at this time.
7 do something nice for yourself
8 do something nice for somebody else
9 be grateful that we have our little dysfunctional community that has become like a second family to many of us
10. And for the new year I wish all of you more peace love money clarity abundance insight balance and plenty of spirits!
Each year, the dandies and fops of Surf City look forward to the Dress to (Sixty) Nines Hash in hopes that their fellow kennelmates might be misidentified as classy human beings. This year we had so much class it was coming out of our pores and leaking in a frothy, viscous discharge from our crevices.
Since our sleepy coastal town has a limited number of class establishments that still let us in, we met at the hotel bar at Solaire. You can tell Solaire is classy because the bottles behind the bar are bottom-lit. The first attendee was Genital Tongs, setting the tone for the night by showing up an hour early to suck down Manhattans, making friends with Dan the Bartender, and calling him Dave for the next hour. Wicked Retahded showed up dressed in his best Oil Tycoon Chic, snakeskin jacket and all. Co-Hare Dung Fu gave trail directions using an easily dismissed inside voice before he left with Co-Hares PCL and Fap Jack.
The rain gods presented the hashers with a moderate drizzle for the duration of the evening.
At Circle Up, the group celebrated the democratic process that had passed Proposition 65. The extravaganza brought us visitors Ska Skank Redemption from San Francisco, who came dressed as an aluminum Festivus pole, and No Poles from Silicon Valley, who managed to put on a tie after watching several tutorials on YouTube.
The trail crossed San Lorenzo Park, ran down Pacific, and headed east on Broadway. At a check on Riverside Ave, I lost No Poles. Or he escaped. I’m not sure which. A left turn on Pennsylvania brought us to Liquor Check, where PCL greeted the pack with tiny plastic martini glasses filled with something pink and intoxicating. My favorite. Trail continued North to Soquel to a Turkey/Eagle split in front of Joe’s Pizza. Eagles ran further to the north end of the trail along a swollen Branciforte Creek, while Turkeys went down the south end of the Branciforte Creek trail. At Beer Near under the cover of the Oswald’s parking garage, Hot Totties warmed wet weary Hashers. Broke Bench Mountain played with a drone that will surely turn on him when the robot apocalypse comes.
Religious Advisor Accuprick selected Dung Fu as Beer Fairy. Dung Fu wielded dildo syringes like a samurai thus confirming several of the rumors circulating about him. First up was No Poles and his shitty joke. As an aside, I found out No Poles is actually related to Accuprick even though he knows about the letter “R”. So if we need to replace Accuprick, we can just send No Poles for elocution lessons in South Boston, stuff him full of sausage and cheesecake, and we can pretty much have another Accuprick. Dogbreath accused dBased of running through two falses. And while the GPS tracks have subsequently vindicated dBased, neither the kennel nor the universe gives much credit for being right. The costume contest was a three-way between Thmp-Thmp’s hat, Ska Skank’s dress with a slit, and what Dogbreath will be wearing to the sentencing phase of his trial. Ska Skank is the one to beat for next year, taking the trophy up to San Francisco. Hares Dung Fu, Pink Cherry Licker, and Fap Jack were celebrated/blamed.
Dung Fu announced next week’s Krampus hash starts at bar that has been closed for six weeks, instilling great faith that he has scouted this trail. Instead we’ll go to Saturn that has an uncovered dog-friendly patio and an indoor bar. Enjoy the rain dog owners.
It is often said history repeats itself and so I feel the desire the recant the events of exactly 11 years previous to this years hash. That would be 12/8/2005. I checked the historical records (archive.org) and believe I have my date correct. On this night it presented the unique combination of rain, hashing downtown and Snow Night (now called WinterFest), the same as we have this week. As you might guess, religion was held at the Soquel/Front parking garage – just as is scheduled this week. Due to inclement weather, the collective decided to have religion one level down and avoid being wet. This resulted in a large volume of sound being generated. Because it was Snow Night and there were many families to hear it and many nearby police to respond. The police believed it was fight. Religion was held in a corner by the stairs. The cops pinned us in. One cop coming up the stairs on foot and two cop cars were coordinated to arrive all at the same moment.
When the cops arrived, they were kind of dumbfounded – expecting a fight, only to find people drinking. They said, dum-dee-dum-dum – you gotta go. Hashers fled the scene of the crime as quickly as possible and no arrests were made. Banana Basher took one for the team and negotiated with the cops. Perhaps his truck full of toys helped (it was Toys for Tots night). I had no alcoholic beverage in my possession when the coppers arrived, so I stuck around to see if Banana need to be bailed out.
The end of the story is Banana’s vehicle was not parked in a parking spot and the coppers requested it be moved. However, Banana was no condition to operate a moving vehicle, so he requested I do it. It only need to moved around 5 feet. However, Banana had some sort of funky transmission and it took me about 5 minutes to move those 5 feet. Banana knew exactly what was going on and was laughing inside his head the entire time while the police watched.
So, I believe the lesson to be learned for this week’s hash is should conditions occur such as religion is moved down one floor, it is done with contemplation.