German Lesson (203) – How to Say “Shit” in German – B1
https://www.patreon.com/germanwithjenny How to say expressions using the word shit in German
I am so traumatized from this mierda that I will keep this report short and shitty.
New kids on my cock was supposed to be the experienced hare. Not sure exactly what pearls of wisdom he imparted upon Real Boring Bitch cause it seems that we merely went round and round and had a false trail or two until stumbling onto Beer check at the ocean’s edge. This was the only redeeming factor in an otherwise boring belabored trail.
After watching the dogs roll around in sewage water we went across the street to Boring Bitch’s side yard for Religion. He was totally unprepared for our visit….and it appeared he didn’t even want us to trespass as he set out many explosive canine land mines on the way to the loo.
Our regular Religious Advisors must have been advised in advance as to the deplorable conditions as they did not show up to perform their duties.
Instead we had to contend with Timmy…….who was inebriated and confused and still could not find his beer.
We had a gaggle of backsliders – Rat Pussy, Deadliest Snatch, Vag Repair Kit, Pansy and New Kids.
We had a raucous naming for just wendy – she will now be known as “Squat and Serve”…something to do with working at TCBY yogurt and being on the cheer squad for the Warriors D League. Go figure….it doesn’t make all that much sense to me either but I’m sure she will learn to love her new name.
On On After turned into CumFart Zone and Vag sitting all by themselves at taqueria vallarta. Everyone else fled to the safety of their homes to disinfectant themselves from all that SHITE!
Why oh why do we blindly believe that any trail hared by Hugh Heiffer will be just a walk in the park, an easy, laid back, maryjane type of trail. She calls it “short and beautiful.”She forgets to mention “immediate elevation gain”.
She has us all meet at the Boulder Creek Brewery to lull us into a false sense of security…everything will be just fine, peachy keen. Life is good up here in the mountains. We got your trailers, your peace posters, your jury rigged electricity and your yard filled with car parts and an old bathtub….plus the requisite blue tarp decorations. It’s a party here 365 not just on Hippies Day of Birth!
So in honor of that little fireball exiting a warm womb we all set off and up. Up being the operative word. UP….UP UP AND AWAY.
How come these trails never go down?
Oh it was indeed a short little trail. I was so blinded by the magnificent beauty that I shrugged off my aching legs, my asthma and altitude induced wheezing and powered on and UP. As I was going UP folks were coming down…that magical word….DOWN, thank you Jesus.Thank you baby Jesus. I love DOWN.
They implored me not to go UP….Up to see the “waterfall”….whoop de doo!!
The look of horror on their faces convinced me I need not go UP any further to witness a spectacle of nature. I have been to Yosemite…I do not think I need to see the Boulder Crick waterfall! Thanks but no thanks.
Those folks were hoodwinked into trekking UP even farther to see a little trickle of water. Hey they could have stayed behind and watched me pee in the woods, if they wanted to see falling water so badly.
So we all scrambled further down towards Beer Check….where we were rewarded with a militia of mosquitoes….munching away on our stinky sweaty skin. And who says you can’t get a free meal around these parts.
Some didn’t even stick around for Beer Check as they were running for their lives….away from those voracious blood suckers – Broke Bench, Bakers D and Duh. Oh and the mosquitoes were pretty bad too.
Finally back at the redwood abode we commandeered, most were gathered around the grill, like primitive mountain men, admiring the days hunting efforts and swilling beer.
Grub was being served up and the grueling trail quickly faded into a fond memory of pretty waterfalls and scenic creek crossings.
We did Religion, of course..with Dung Fu attempted to scream above the crowd.
Some guy with a passport and a bowl of Pad Thai, possibly named House Knuckle, was here from Thailand. Apparently he has spent the past 10 years in a glutenous purgatory.
We had some lovely virgins who quickly got into the spirit of the hash and plus a gal from New Orleans Voodoo tribe….who did show us her *&^% and $$$ and we didn’t even have to throw beads. We got 2 body parts for the price of one. This despite the crappy dick joke served up by “virgin Tad”, and virgin Caitlain’s bitchy Tampon joke.
We applauded the efforts of some serious sleep deprived and mentally unstable hashers who completed a racist event.
We thanked the hosts and gave Hippie Hugh her required Beerthday song plus a lovely parting gift.
We survived the Boulder Creature woods and escaped back to civilization as soon we ran out of beer
Up Up and Away….
Over and Out…
This weeks beerthday trail will start at the Boulder Creek Brewery Outpost, 13101 Hwy 9. Boulder Creek. A to B and beyond. Trail will be short and beautiful. Then we will all walk together, unlike last weeks trail to religion. There will be food so your drunk asses do not drive off any cliffs on your way home. Of course there will be veggie burgers and dogs besides the cow burgers and what ever the fuck hotdogs are made of. Bring your flash light for the walk back to the Outpost. Good dogs are welcome but have them be ready too get slobber on as the home religion will be held at has a big dog and lots of play area for then to run a muck. ON oN…, Hugh “it’s my Birthday hash”Hippy heiffer with co hares, Get up and run bitch, Too drunk to fuck and our grill master CumLord.
We were warned people………you should know by now any trail hared by Dung Fu at his personal sadistic playground called “UCSC” is going to be brutal. Last year we endured the Himalayan Ski Slope of Rocks in the dark. Why should this year be different?
And yet the masochists showed up en mass at an over packed parking lot with Pinky impersonating a traffic cop. She was forcefully blowing her whistle and violently pointing and waving in order to prevent rouge non hasher cars from taking precious parking spaces.
I thought those poor student drivers were going to 5150 her but they merely scuttled away like forlorn cockroaches.
Finally we got most of the group together, except for Deadliest Snatch and Rat Pussy who can’t read a compass or directions. We were told to “GO WEST” but apparently dyslexia set in and they went EAST! They also do not know how to use a cell phone and call for help.
It’s a shame they missed the torture session.
Trail seemed easy enough for the first 36 seconds………….then we began our ascent….that non stop vertical climb meant to test our steely determination, our grit, our muscle and our mental toughness. We trudged on and up………fighting off weariness and ticks. Thump Thump is oblivious to the pain as he proudly sashays his hips and does the classic power walk strut complete with tight arm movements. Steamy’s tight calves proves that he too can hang. Some runners whizzed by and where never to be seen again…..until Beer Check of course.
For a brief moment we descended and thought we would have a respite……..but hell no.
It gets worse……now we have to navigate the creek/river/rocks/mud/with vertical aerobatic maneuvers that should have only been attempted by authentic climbers with ropes, helmets, and other nifty gadgets.
Up and over downed redwoods caused some serious ball chaffing for some. Good thing I just completed my CPR and First Aid training last week. I was privileged to squeeze some balls back to life and they lit up like fireworks.
Just Foot Pussy and Bacon Queef were incredibly helpful for once in their lives and made sure I didn’t kill myself on trail.
For that I am eternally grateful and will leave something for them in my will……..most likely they will get my prized flashlight collection, plus some useful solar panels, a goal zero generator, a pallet of toilet paper, a bottle of Jack, all my sex toys and my magic wand for good measure.
But I digress and we still have that dark,dank, smelly, slippery cave to talk about. And I don’t mean *&^%^’s V JAY JAY!
But who am I to argue with Hippy Chick and Just Foot Pussy about Santa Cruz lore??
Most of the bedraggled hashers climbed down that slippery ladder for Beer Check and songs, myself included. I even climbed back up the ladder with a beer in one hand!
And then onto Religion….but once again some of us couldn’t seem to find the way home.
This is becoming a theme, a pattern, a recurring nightmare.
Darkness had descended and despite large wooden arrows place by Ms Bacon Q most simply followed their noses and the trail of pee back to the WEST parking lot.
Oh and before I forget…there was this terrible wire fence that created a challenge for some vertically depraved souls. Thankfully we had chivalry on trail and several gallant men offered to assist with the crossing.
CumFartZone became impaled and almost needed metal tools and a rescue squad to disengage her naughty bits from the fence. Alas Vag Repair Kit was hunkered down in the warmth and safety of his den of iniquity still nursing his rash – Supposedly allergic to sulfa antibiotics…but we all know better!
On to Religion and down downs………mostly for backsliders and claustrophobic whiners. We also had a costume contest…some wankers just wore a boring star wars t-shirt, others were confused and wore a STAR TREK t-shirt (wrong movie -and another one who can’t read), one gal came in some inappropriate harem costume that rivaled I Dream of Jeannie and another, Cum something or other, wore the ever fashionable hair buns. And of course Dung Fu sported the requisite light sabers!
I can’t remember the rest as I was shivering too much from that cold,wet creek debacle….and was thinking only of slipping out of my already slippery shoes, peeling off those gross knee socks, slithering out of my poison oak and tick infested clothing and spending the next hour in a hot shower.
So happy trails,
PS – there is a video footage montage of this trail created by Just Foot Pussy on the SCH3 facebook page. It is up for an academy award so go check it out.
I love how when the hares ( Occasional and Wicked) say it will be an “easy peesy” trail as they try to lull us into a false sense of security. In the past these “easy peesy” trails have been nothing short of arduous. However, this time we were pleasantly surprised.
In fact it was so easy most folks didn’t even notice they were on a trail. These lame hashers were simply sauntering along, not a care in the world, not huffing and puffing, not even breathing hard……just taking pictures of banana trees, seagulls, selfies and pink dogs.
A few happy go lucky fools zipped right past the most primo viewing spot in all of pleasure point. People come from all over the world to gaze out upon the Monterey Bay, marveling at the surfers, seals, sea otters and the magnificent view. But no…..this recalcitrant sub pack just blew through the beer check like they were blowing a stop sign, or their drunk Tinder date. Guess they missed the rest of us lugs guzzling beer and trying to keep our hats on our heads.
Speaking of hats…..
Poor Fap Jack, looked so dapper at Castaways Bar in his fedora. But a great tragedy occurred along the trail. His chapeau was taken by the wind, a bitter mistress, and sent out to sea never to be seen again. Luckily he can buy another one at the dollar store next week when the welfare check clears.
As the pack made their way back to Wicked’s to start Religion, our other hare, Occasional, had to race back for a near empty bottle of Fireball. Can’t let a few precious drops go to waste, lamenting that it wasn’t properly stored out of sight and it wasn’t brought back by the last person who imbibed.
Speaking of Religion, it was quite a lively affair.
Much singing by most…..although for once in her lifetime, CumFartZone, couldn’t open her mouth……to sing the required song. Major brain fart or something stuck in her throat?!!
How Much Dick Do You Need also had trouble reciting a hash song….must be something in the water or in the beer.
So we taught her….”this is your down down song, it isn’t very long…” blah blah blah….She won’t remember it. Why even bother. She will need cliff notes.
But that couldn’t top the call and response song we had to recite…some African diddy, thanks to our resident Olympian bicyclist, also known as MacGayver.
It went sort of like this “a mosa mosa mosa, Oh a LAY LAY…..a bella bella dung gay, a mosa mosa mosa…you get the hang of it now don’t you??!! It was quite a catchy tune if you like that kind of thing.
“When does this get good?”Thump Thump asked in his familiar dead pan voice. I was wondering the same thing while waiting for the Zulus to dance around the fire pit.
Perhaps MacGaver confused his version with the FIFA song. We are hashers, not groupies, not soccer players.
OH MY GOD. (and it’s not that OMG that comes with sex toys)
First, we celebrate Easter/Passover/Spring/All other Pagan holidays, symbolizing Renewal and Rebirth, and literally 4 days later we find ourselves in HELL…or as Hippie Chick proclaimed, “PURGATORY”. I couldn’t agree more.
What were those hares thinking?
That we are all too fat from all that Easter candy???
and we need to be taken on a death march?
The “turkey trail” was supossed to be a mere 3 miles……..but my GPS said it was FIVE MILES.
Most of it uphill…as a reminder to us all that we actually have these things called “hamstrings” in the back of our legs.
And they are probably filled with too much ham from said Easter overload. Easter sprouts for the veggies in the crowd.
So that being said…the tough guys and gals in the group opted for the “BB” trail….only supposed to be about 5-6 miles.
What the hell? Who does the math around here? Fap has skills but I think calculating mileage is not one of them. Stick to knives.
I think the turkeys logged more miles than the BB Eagles.
And you are asking what BB stands for…..I thought it meant BUTT BALLS! Because it takes balls to do a Dung Fu trail and he will insure that you feel your Butt…..or he may want to feel your butt….in either case….it was a real BALL BUSTER trail.
While it was a beautiful trail, meandering along the redwoods, listening to the roar of the river, sweating like a wild boar…it was also a treacherous trail……with multiple water crossing, mud pits and slippery rocks. A few ankles went sideways but we sucked it up to a good time.
Happily all the hashers/stoners/drunks finally made it back to the parking lot for religion. Some managed to find the earlier beer check…….others managed to have a search party sent out for them.
We started circle with only half the group…while the lost boys and girls stumbled in. And one hasher (Occasional) was completely MIA at Don Quixotes. That’s one way to do trail.
To our delight and debauchery,we had Virgin Pat, who showed us his ass which looked like it had been probed and marked by aliens. And to think I had found him wandering aimlessly in the Capitola Produce market last year. I invited him to the hash and it only took a year and another wanker to goad him into showing up.
We had down downs for back sliders, we had down downs for other shit too….and we had a naming!
Some thing about snakes and plumbing and wanderlust. Maybe someone else was paying attention….all I heard was plumbers crack and snake with no name and snakes on a plane. Puff most likely has the correct verbiage.
All in all it was a great 420 celebration.
Thanks to all who ventured out in the dark.
Thanks to Pinky for the spare flashlight and keeping us safe and doing the head count.
Thanks to Vag for singing his first ever down down song to anyone.