To the Ho,
Certain misconceptions apparently exist within your little half-mind pertaining to the duties of Hash Cash. Hash Cash is to flow in one dire-erection only, e.g., Take in money, NOT give it out. What do I look like, a friggin’ bank? Secondly, the Major Members of Mismanagement deemed your trail unworthy of reimbursement, consequently your begging and pleading for compensation was refused. And as far as any ‘interest’ goes, I have no interest whatsoever in paying you though I’d love to see you get what you deserve in the end…so to speak.
Salutations Kennel Mates,
This will be Puff’s last communique with you, as a group anyway, hopefully for quite a while. I have again been deposed as Scribe though it’s obvious why I was replaced by attractive harriettes. (ALL Surf City harriettes, past, present and future, are Goddesses by the way) I don’t know what promises were made to you but I guarantee they cannot live up to your fantasies. Be that as it may, in Puff’s continuing war on mediocrity, I wish to unleash some final thoughts on you pertaining to hashing in general and you jokers in particular.
The Hash is almost an Invisible Empire. Going through life unnoticed at best and ignored at worst, at least for the most part, emboldens us to be brazen. With the advent of the Internet though we can no longer claim to be Underground. I decry this commercialization, it threatens to reduce Hashing from what it SHOULD be, a subversive cultural force, to a mass-produced tranquilizing commodity. Sometimes I am numbed by the quantity of Hash-related material available to the mortal members of the general public. We have more friggin’ outlets that Starbuck’s. Continue reading Thoughts and Observations
Now we all know…
What happens when the scheduled hares cancels just hours prior to on-out time. I will commend Banana Basher for picking up the gauntlet and stepping up to hare. I cannot, however, commend the results of his brave action. While you may consider my verdict too harsh, hold your final decision until I have regaled you with the horrors heaped upon hapless hounds on Trail 582.
The pack was beguiled by the big Banana by beginning his most recent fiasco from beautiful Santa Cruz Mountain Brewery. This pleased everyone. Even the fact Banana’s Instructions of Trail left the herd with more questions that answers, this was dismissed as indicative of Banana’s innate half-mindedness. Instead, it should have been a sign of Banana’s unpreparedness. No one was alarmed even when he wasn’t sure which of the two trails he “scouted” (we were later to learn these trails were “scouted” using outdated GPS software on his worn-out computer) that he would use. While I do not know which he finally settled on, I can say for sure that he chose the wrong one. Continue reading The results of not scouting trail…Disaster!!
The above obviously excludes the Trio of Terror we used as hares for Trail 581.
If you believe the above to be too harsh, 1) you apparently did NOT join us this past Thursday and 2) you do not trust Puff’s judgment. One of those is a good thing but one is not. I believe you will soon be able to ascertain which is which. Continue reading Hash 581-Take these hares to the tracks..and tie them down!
Greetings Companion Animals,
A good trail depends on a good hare and as a hare TIMMY is un-dependable.The closest TIMMY will ever get to being dependable is that he will soon be WEARING Depends.
I saw no reason to sugar-coat this week’s offering. It’s important you go into this Trash forewarned unlike we unlucky bastards that hashed Trail 580. Let’s move forward, no amount of postponing will make this trail any less of a fiasco that it was.
Tales from Trail or TIMMY tortures the troops Continue reading Hash 580 Timmy:Get another job…really…PLEEZE!!!
Although I wasn’t feeling especially jolly after the completion of this trail!
I admit I was not especially enthused when head-hare In ‘n Out Furburger announced this hash would be another of her theme hashes. Her last one was the infamous toga trail up on the North Coast that made many of us want to jump off the nearest cliff. She used toilet paper to mark much of her trail. I consider that very appropriate and should give you a clue as to the quality of THAT particular trail.
This time, rather than wear a sheet to the beach we were to find short pants (see Maladjusted), ridiculous hats (see Boner Malfunction), wide belts (see Banana), bandannas (see Shallow Hole) and eye patches (see Just Brian, he had a whole bag of the damn vision-inhibiting things). Continue reading Surf City sets sail searching for booty