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Hash Trash #944 Picture Perfect

This was the  annual holiday time “Picture Hash” that our slightly obsessed hare, DBased, dreams about all year long. Instead of visions of sugarplums dancing in his head, he has visions of lost and befuddled hashers flipping him off. Not much difference between dream time and reality time.
Yes, DBased planned this thing a year in advance…..mainly because he may have fucked it up last year and he had to redeem himself. He was almost giddy to gather the festive fools to follow his endless circle jerks and backtracks. He grinned ear to ear at each stop, coaxing us on with his impromptu side kick….Vaginal Repair Kit…. who was fresh out of the operating room for his back surgery…but somehow in his anesthesia fog he forget to change out of his hospital gown. It was a bit breezy for him as the night air was fresh and crisp and some of us got more than we bargained for as he gleefully showed off his scar!IMG_3034
We marched up and down Park Av and Soquel Av and finally trudged up to a sweet little park for Beer Check. The kids had a chance to play on the train and have their picture taken. Then we trudged back to Occasional and Dbased home for some tasty snacks and more libations.
Religion was held on the back patio around the fire pit.
We started off with Cum You will Not celebrating 50 hashes and thus she became the evenings beer fairy…although she looked more like a deer in the headlights. Guess this really was her first rodeo.
She shouldn’t quit her day job to become a bartender. Our beloved RA, Accuprick, kept barking orders at her and had her head spinning faster than that chick in the Exorcist. At least she didn’t spew!!
Just Michael came back for more abuse and Virgin Lori sang us a crappy song but it was “cripple girl” aka Pinky who stole the show. She was found face down on the pavement, trying desperately to activate her Life Alert button. Instead she had to rely on the HashShit to get her to her feet. Thankfully it had just been passed along from father Timmy!!!  to daughter. It came in handy as a crutch and a necessary walking stick.
New Kids On My Cock had been missing in action and finally got bailed out from the rehab center. As a reminder “rehab is for quitters”. Achy Breaky also took a much needed break from her grueling race schedule and made a cameo. She has been missed.
As part of the evening’s festivities we had a costume contest, sponsored by the lovely and alluring Princess Di.
The prize for most flammable went to Ms Tinsel Tits who may also be known as Responsive Asshole, if I got the name correct. Apparently she too has been missing in action….for about a dozen years or so.
Most creative holiday sweater went to Cums You Will Not.
Most rash inducing went to Steamy B and Baker’s Dozen’t was also a big winner with the official UGLIEST SWEATER….wear that sash with pride, sugar lips.
Our hares, DBased and Occasional Rapist were applauded for their annual holiday gathering and general good cheer ambassadors.
Stub Rub and Summer’s yeast were headed to the land down under. A great way to lose a whole 24 hours without the hangover and blackouts. I am sure that they will return with some silly accents and that annoying “G’Day”crap.
The rest of us revealed in the impending stress of holidays and wished each other well for the New Year.
Get your resolutions ready.
No hashing = No Fun.
Know hashing = Know FUN!!
On On On

Hash Trash # 942 on 11/30/17

942boardwalkLet’s just” thai” one on.
Fap Jack and PCL reluctantly agreed to hare this pathetic post Thanksgiving trail. Coming off the ever scintillating North South weekend some of the loyal hashers proudly wore their new t-shirts….while the rest of us peons had to settle for regular cold weather gear.
We gathered early at a really fantastic Thai restaurant just across from the Santa Cruz Boardwalk. The friendly bartender happily filled all of our drink orders with a smile and a slight honorary bow. It’s nice to be treated like royalty once in while, rather than being run off by park rangers and terrified neighbors.
We set off through the Boardwalk and the Arcade…sadly there was no time to play a round of Laser Tag…..nor strap on 942arcadesome skates for a whirl around the seasonal ice rink. We couldn’t stop for hot chocolate either as we had some feisty hares to catch. Up and around the Giant Dipper….eerily silent as the frenetic summer tourist season is finally over. No more screaming kids, wailing babies, or frazzled parental units. Just hashers waxing poetic about the newly quiet beaches. A few precious months without tourists….how sweet it is. Maybe we can actually find a parking space at Seabright Brewery this winter.
As we ponder the change of seasons the dreaded railroad trestle looms ahead. Thankfully this time we can cross on the more stable pedestrian side rather than across the open rotting beams. Some of us have a rather severe fear of heights. Still in the thanksgiving mode, the hares must have taken pity on us.
Up and around and around and around till we finally find Beer Check… of our favorite little spots overlooking the beach with the boardwalk as an iconic backdrop.
A few lucky ones got chauffeured back to Religion….held a ways up from the trestle, far enough from preying eyes and law enforcement.
Religion started with a hearty congrats to Cold Smegma who just completed another comic book. Despite his artsy fartsy news he also announced that he was SO THIRSTY….despite chugging only FOUR beers.
We had a few non runners aka auto hashers…such as Wicked, Broke Bench and Just Foot Pussy who arrived on his 2 wheeled chariot.
Wicked also did a tiny bit of trail…then did a major short cut due to “getting lost”.
Bacon Queef enjoyed the North South festivities a wee bit too much as she joined the ranks of the “Puking Projectile Olympics”. It was so bad that she impersonated Linda Blair and even blew chunks out of her nose. So ladylike.
Princess Di sang her an appropriate barfing song about worms.
We celebrated a few analversaries…..Wicked with 175, Timmy with a whooping 600 and DBased with an astounding 775. Get a Life people!
Lots of folks represented North South and a few were inducted in the Pen15 club. Timmy is still confused and keeps saying, “what does mine say”??
Inside Joke I suppose.
We had a virgin….Brandon….and some visitors who showed up on trail for a brief moment and then vanished.
942haresWe toasted the hares and then went back to the Thai joint for some warm tasty food.
All in all it was a lovely adventure.
See you next week.
On On On,

Hash Trash #920- Trail of Bromance!

940brosWe started at East Cliff Brewing with the Jersey Shore Boys in full regalia. We got the memo from Courtesy Flush about his sacred costume hash complete with step by step instructional videos on how to rock the complete Bro look. All week long we practiced our best squats and pumped up the guns to look bad ass. We ran out to KMart to pick up a new white wife beater tee. We raided our Mom’s jewelry box to search for the most appropriate and obnoxious gold chain. We slathered on the dippity do, spritzed ourselves and everything else within 20 feet with crappy cologne and cheap perfume. Hair was teased up to dizzingly high heights and lips were glossed and perfectly pouty. The eyeliner was slithered on neatly with sleek black lines extending  far beyond the reaches of the eye and good taste.  The nauseous blue eye shadow glittered and sparkled. These bro and bras were ready to hit the town… least attempt another shitty Surf City trail.

Much ado was made about this trail…complete with not one but two Liquor checks, weenies and marshmallows roasting over an open fire pit, and copious amounts of muscle milk.

The excitement mounted over a few pre trail beers and much primping and posturing. A quick Dollar Tree foray was rewarded with extra hairspray, glitter and really shitty perfume. I mean really –  who expected Channel #9 from the dollar store??

Finally we set off on this exciting beach side trail….strutting our stuff and meandering through a few neighborhoods, finally emerging at the Santa Cruz Harbor. Once beyond the Crows Nest we had to navigate huge tractor made mountains in the sand as the water lapped dangerously close to our toes. Amazingly little 4 legged Two F*ck Chuck was able to keep up despite missing many of the most recent hashes.

Once we survived the Sub Saharan death march we we rewarded by the promised bon fire.  We settled in to enjoy toasted marshmallows and leftover spiked muscle milk…..Gag me.

CumfartZone wedged her tush on a soggy log in order to take notes and enjoy her beer in comfort around the crackling blaze. It was short-lived.

Unfortunately our new RA used her ill gotten power to expel CFZ from the log and partake of the first down down. Grrrrrrrrr.

Banished to the cooler, CFZ meekly cowered and did her dutiful scribe duties without any more fuss.

Bare Back Unicrack was called up for peeing on trail THREE times….and CumYouWillNot, who has no shame, apparently peed right on the driveway in front of a house. A modicum of discretion would be nice so we all don’t get hauled into the local jail!

Crimes included RealBoringBitch pointing with his fingers. Luckily CuntJungle set him straight.

CumYouWillNot comes off the beach trail and runs gleefully up to the first fire ring she sees and asks “where’s the beers dude?” All she gets are blank stares. Pay Attention Missy!! Those were 12 steppers…..NOT hashers!

UrineCider apparently five fingered someone elses shades….Not cool Bro.

Our new beer meister for the night parked the beer truck at the wrong location. With all his gadgets, GPS, Geocaching skills and giant alien like headlamp he still could not find his way to religion. Way to go Dbased.

Meanwhile all the Bros and chicklets were called up for a Down Down. These folks took the time to READ the description of the trail and made an EFFORT to dress up appropriately. Curtesy Flush, Baker’s Dozen’t, Just Sean, Urine Cider, Just Andrea, Shallow Hole, Cunt Jungle, BareBack, CumYouWillNot, PCL, Puff, Fap Jack, Real Boring Bitch, Wicked…in other words the whole pack.

Well done people.

Curtesy Flush handed out some prizes for the best Flex, best squat, and best clean and jerk.

He lovingly made some BROceltes(translation….bracelets) for the winner. He is such a metrosexual kinda guy…..kinda like Vag Repair Kit…..they both read Architectural Digest, love fresh flowers in the home, iron their sheets and make their own bread. One day they will make a girl very happy.

Shallow stepped into her new role as GM easily and effortlessly. How hard could it be to supply and pass out the chalk, set the timer once the hares are off and offer introductions at the starting circle? Well, for some this is a monumental task….but Shallow rose to the occasion. Only 103 more hashes to go!!

Good luck Girlfriend.

Oh and we had a Birthday…Curtesy Flush…who else!!940hares

So, onto Thanksgiving festivities and overeating….so what else is new.

On On On,



938: Why are we so stupid?

Why are we so stupid?
Why do we believe the crap that Twisted Fister spews?
Why were we lulled into a false sense of security with his promise of NO WATER CROSSING for his annual Beerthday hash.
Why are my $200 barely used, almost new trail shoes soaking wet and stinking up my car?
Good question.
We were all taken for a ride yet once again by this scoundrel.
He marched us along a dangerously dark and winding road only to find a huge FALSE. A big FU.  A bold face LIE. He is one devious MoFo.
And to make matters worse….he laid the same trail last year and had us fall for it again. Well, let me back up…..we actually had 2 brilliant hashers who deviated from the pack and ended up at Burger!! A place known for a plethora of beers on tap. Banana Basher and Princess Di made a hasty retreat away from the trail and right into a warm and toasty pub. As they were slinking away we were trying not to get run over by cars whizzing by as if they were at Laguna Seca. Thanks for looking out for our safety.
The mangled pack soldiered on and descended into the depths of the dark forest.
Yet once again we lost 2 hashers who are afraid of the dark. Waxi Pad and Occasional Rapist bailed at the entrance of Nisene Marks. They said a prayer for our safety, burned some sage and hoped that the mountain lions already had an early dinner. Not wanting to show any fear, we marched on with our trusty flashlights and headlamps ablaze. Remarkably it was a rather pleasant evening, with the cotton balls clouds playing hide and seek with the almost full moon. The trail was very straightforward….meaning we went directly into the stream, no get out of jail free card. No way out except to get WET. 
A few souls miscalculated the route and ended up rather moist….CumYouWillNot fessed up to being slightly impaired and thus took her water route on the cuff.  Which means she got completely soaked. Others slithered along a log in order to avoid damp tootsies. And the rest bravely walked right into the cold stream and crossed without incident. There was a good deal of chivalry on trail as the ever helpful Just Foot Pussy took his post as a crossing guard very seriously. TestaCoil was also the perfect gentleman in guiding CumFartZone over the slippery bits and offering to hold her backpack. Bakers also offered his chivalry to Jizziki, who simply can’t see shit anymore due to an eye condition and to the blazing fast Virgin Sean who initially was a FRB at the YBF but got knocked off his butt on Knob Creek.
And since we are talking about shit, we had to endure hearing about Waxi Pad’s sudden and urgent need to defecate on trail. WTF, is nothing sacred in this group? Folks here continue to wax poetic about menstrual cycles, semen, piss, sex toys, infectious hashing crud and now the dreaded #2. Well poo poo to you all. Carry some TP with ya on trail and zip it.
Moving on we also admonished Jizz for losing his light saber with all it’s fancy features. It telescopes in and out…a shower not a grower. It has many setting including a hallucinogenic strobe light that will make you throw up.  Thankfully CuntJungle found it and returned it to its rightful owner.  
Pinky had blood on trail after a run in with a mailbox. Next time she should try UPS….they are kinder and gentler.
There was talk of the old man log and thus Timmy!!! and Banana had to do a down down. I think it is an inside joke.
Puff got a down down for being the Dog Whisperer and always having enough “Pupperoni/Pufferoni” to go around.
Cheek and Dong was our lone visitor from the frigid north land of CA and pitched an upcoming Spring 2018 snowshoe event. Sounds like fun….especially the naked hot tub apple bobbing contest.
More down downs for the guys who missed the package checks. TestaCoil and Jizziki complained that is was too cold to bare the balls and uncoil the snakes. Thankfully our resident stunt dick, JFP, took one for the team.
Wish our Virgin(Sean) would have taken the hint but he choose to tell us a crappy joke about an 80 yr old pirate. Lame to say the least. But at least he paid attention to chalk talk. 
Our analversares go to JFP/JustFootPussy and Bacon Queef for 100 hashes each. 
And Thump Thump really needs to get a life after logging in a staggering 300 hashes! Talk about commitment.
Accuprick presided as RA  and we are hoping he will continue providing quips, punishments and terse Boston admonishments for the upcoming new hashing year. 
Next week is AGM. 
Get out and vote.
And step up to the plate and volunteer for a position in this zany club.
It’s been a fun year….well at least I thought it was fun. Perhaps I already have early Alzheimers and I’m forgetting most of the hashes that included dastardly uphill routes and dangerously steep downhills through poison oak infested woodlands.
So in true Academy Award Style I have to mention a few “thank yous”.
Thank you for allowing me to do some of this past years scribing. 
I really do enjoy the creative challenge of attempting to document some of our most poignant and intimate moments each and every week.
Thanks to Pussy Wood for her support and maintenance of the hash trash journals and for pushing me into this perfunctory and perilous position.
Thanks to Puff for his additional reports and incredibly damming hash Flash. I can no longer pass a background check and my security clearance has been revoked.
Thank for for helping me overcome my shyness by encouraging me to show my boobs to complete strangers and dress up in ridiculous costumes. I suppose I can  no longer label myself a wallflower.
Thank you for allowing me to become more comfortable taking a wizz in public.
I paid close attention to Occasional. She is a wonderful mentor.
Thank you for increasing my alcohol tolerance. I can now manage 3 or 4 beers an evening verses the measly one beer a night when I started. This is not including  the special jello shots or the nasty LC checks I have learned to tolerate.
And thank you for allowing me to make jello shots for the Hawaiian themed party. 
58 years old and I finally concocted my first ever jello shot. Resume worthy.
Thank you all for pushing me out of my “comfort zone” and into the wilds of hashing.
Thank you to Vaginal Repair Kit for putting up with my antics and showing up on nights even when you were pooped and not in the mood. And for finally putting on that red dress!
Thank you to all our officers past and present for their faithful and zealous adherence to hashings great traditions and rules.  Thanks for being pillars of this community….the community with no standards. Role models for the forlorn, misfits and disenfranchised…oh wait…that’s a different group. (Not!)
Thanks to everyone who shows up every week looking forward to spending a couple of hours with friends, getting some fresh air and exercise, being silly, being themselves, being authentic and being part of the fabric of life.  We’ve certainly gotten to know each other – the good – the bad – and the ugly.  And we continue to love and accept each other. We all come from different lifestyles and yet what I have noticed is that we all get along. And some of you have formed very close friendships and consider your hashing friends as family. Others are simply weekly acquaintances with whom you share a brew and few laughs. 
 As we say in Santa Cruz. “It’s all good”.
And it is good indeed.
It has been good for me to be a part of this group/this family/this zany club.
Thank you again for accepting me and it has been a pleasure getting to know all of you. 
On On On

937: Helloween

Hash Trail 937
Another beerthday hash and another pathetic excuse to dress up and scare the locals. Six days before Halloween but no one blinked an eye. This is normal for Santa Cruz….where you can be a weirdo 365 days a year.24170649068_f9dc6c726c_o
This extravaganza started with the blaring trail announcement from Just Foot Pussy who could not contain his excitement at his impending monumental birthday event. To make matters worse he drags poor Tits and Game out of retirement and out of her comfy temperpedic bed to assist him. She should have stayed home in her PJ’s and slippers. But then we would have been deprived of her luscious boobies and mischievous and devious trail. 37991798172_f41601b5a4_o
So with all the hoopla and hype we gathered at the Red Room….perfect venue for start of a Halloween hash with its clandestine lighting and regular odd characters. We blended right in like Navy Seals in full camo on a stealthy mission.
Well most of us blended in except for some huge pimple like creature with probing tentacles. Not really sure what that thing was but it certainly was the most creative costume I’ve seen in a long time. The “thing” as I will call it from now on made a valiant effort to keep up with the pack. It’s handler, a gregarious yet firm German lad who seems to have wandered away from the Beer Garten, barked out instructions like a drill Sargent each time a menacing curb loomed ahead….or a nasty maze of train tracks, trash and jagged fence holes presented a violent trip hazard.
The “thing” turned out to be very adept at navigating the city streets and the off trail detours, swigging copious amounts of brown liquid along the way. It remained upright the entire trail.
We encountered many checks….which confounded a few. Some got hopelessly lost but thankfully found refuge at Boccis Cellar. Once they recovered from their ordeal and replenished their “electrolytes” they managed to reunite with the rest of the pack at Religion.
They missed an awesome Liquor Check of festive jello shots in the cemetery. They missed beer check at the top of a lovely knoll. They missed snacks and chips and dip. They missed the giant dildo!!
And they missed us enough to venture out again just to be given a down down. Those rascals may have been Taco Tramp, Summers Yeast and possible Wicked, before he Ubered home to avoid prosecution.
38022522621_e658353c9f_oMaybe he, Wicked, kidnapped Cunt Jungle and violated her in the cemetery. You never know what really goes on underneath that Darth Vadar cape and mask. And no one is ever safe from his tongue!
We had an emergency rescue on trail. Bakers took a nasty fall on a slick slice of sidewalk and luckily the ski patrol was nearby and able to revive him with a generous glug of hot amber swill. No stitches, no crutches needed. Thanks Thump Thump and Princess. Gotta love those Saint Bernards.
As all of our festive participants gathered for the Halloween costume contest, also known as Religion, we noticed that the lovely 99 cent plastic glasses had morphed into unrecognizable shapes. Apparently DBased put said party glasses into the bottom rack of the dishwasher. We will probably need to raise your hash cash next week to cover the cost of replacing our expensive stemware. Blame him.
Speaking of blame and shame we now have a true defector in our midst. Cunt Jungle escaped from her over the hill captors and has been brainwashed into thinking SCH3 now her mother kennel. She is keeping her name to protect the guilty.
Our analversaries were BakersDoesn’t and Curtesy Flush each at 69. Kinda weird eh? We all got treated to an interactive 69 demo. Another Halloween treat I suppose?!
We had some backsliders…..Taco Tramp, Tits and Game, and JFP who was traveling to satisfy insatiable needs.
And finally we had the much touted costume contest…..all who turned up were worthy of a prize, including Hugh as the Queen of Hearts, JFP as the raunchy cowboy, Timmy and his best friend Psycho Baby minus some important limbs, along with a sexy giraffe, Gorilla with a huge hat ( perhaps making up for other lack) Taco as an American Horror Story persona and CumYouWillNot in a festive Hawaiian themed dress. Steamy was styling in his matching paisley 60’s era attire. Dual Tools borrowed a banana that looked more like a giant yellow condom. We had bunnies, supermen and superwomen, skeletons, chicks with dicks and dogs with tutus. Meanwhile Puff went all out and rocked the orange OP shorts. Also Bakers dressed as a chef… which was a stretch and his dog morphed into a lobster dinner.
Obviously the strange vagina creature, the giant bed bug, the 8th grade gonorrhea scare tactic or simply the “Thing” won the coveted t-shirt prize. Well deserved. The grand prize goes to BareBackUniCrack!!!
Overall it was a fun night of costumes, birthdays and creepy crawlies.
Thanks to all who came out to celebrate Halloween almost one week early….but who cares? Any excuse for a party.
And don’t forget the party of the year will be an awesome AGM on Nov 9th.
Be there or be square.
On On On,
VOTE FOR ME………..for something, anything!!!

Hash 935: The adventures of Burrito Boy

OK people…you read the invite to the hash….the cum on lines and the illusion that it will be a cake walk trail. After all, Burrito Boy aka Courtesy Flush is telling you he blew out his ankle running after a roach coach taco truck. He is daring you to catch him as he hobbles around downtown Santa Cruz trying to avoid Hepatitis A infected sidewalks. He baits us with this… “Maybe it’ll be some super secret abandoned industrial site or some magical offshore islands where it rains beer and the free-range unicorns fart lavender and poop cheesecake. ” 
Put a burrito in that boys mouth

Put a burrito in that boys mouth

Let me set the record straight……….we ran about 3 miles…..not really straight as this is a progressive town and there were unicorns as predicted.  I kid you not. 3 magical unicorns….well 2 really special magical unicorns with nice boobs and 1 lame unicorn with a semi. You just had to be there.
In addition to the festive costumes, we were treated to Unicracks Picasso inspired street drawings. Lots of circle jerks, a bazillion true trail arrows, T/E splits, and then the dreaded DETOUR signs. WTF??
The hares really had a hell of a night trying to keep their plan. We were SUPPOSED to start at the Saturn Cafe but some asshate employee and his inept manager decided that we couldn’t order JUST BEER….God forgive…..We had to order BEER and FOOD. Well you can see where this is going. So new plan….go across the street to the Nasti Asti…for BEER and cigs. Mo Better.
Beer Check and Religion were SUPPOSED to be at the Oswald garage….but yet again the hares were thwarted by some thugs in uniform who correctly guessed that the white rectangular box might be a cooler filled with BEER. 
BRRRRILLIANT observation Dr Watson/Mr Park Ranger Person. 
So hence the “DETOUR” signs and the “ALMOST THERE” signs……… thighs are burning and my throat is parched after our gruesome trek around the city. To make matters worse there are weird smiley faces grinning back at me as I ascend yet another set of garage stairs.
Finally………we find the mother lode of beers….and those laughable hares. It’s hard to stay mad at them when they are so adorable.
At Religion it was nice to see the InterAm folks back safe and sound even if they all still looked a little greenish.
Cums out my nose demonstrated a proper Down Down.  She was guilty of being on her cell phone…what else is new? And not listening, hmmm…..and there was no drink in her hand. Horrors and it isn’t even Halloween.
Speaking of horrors the non runners were represented by Broke Bench, Cums out my nose and Wicked. Too bad cause they missed a great LC. The mysterious grey bong water in the old plastic water bottles was a gruesome mixture of either cider and tequila or cider and whiskey. Seems most of it made its way back to Religion…not too many takers for that swill.
Our backslider, Sharticle Physics, has been MIA for at least a year and blames it on “travel”. Must be nice. In reality he has been chasing unicorns and he brought a few to the hash as proof. Just April made her second appearance and Virgin Jennifer did not disappoint when she unzipped her costume.
We also celebrated Wicked’s 169th hash, along with 300 impressive hashes for Broke Bench and a whopping 769 hashes for DBased. Get a Life!
Wicked got another DD for singing out of turn, CumFartZone got a DD for hell if I know but there was some crazy nipple pinching story.
Virgin Jennifer did some lame striptease trying to get out of the Unicorn pajama disguise and in her zeal to show off her hot pink panties she almost got the prize for creative self bondage. 
 The hares had to move it along so they could make the Dick Dale show so we hastily sang them their song and sent them packing.
All in all it was a lovely fall evening in santa cruz with my favorite peeps. And I got some nice swag…thank you Occasional and Shallow!
On On On,