Hash Twelve-26: New Year, same old s*it…

Rejected,

By the Crepe Place, the Creepy Place in Hash lingo. Arriving at the announced start, it was as dark as my last girlfriend’s feelings towards me. A leaking roof necessitated their turning out the lights Thursday. So, there we were, (there we were) all dressed up with no place to go. The hare-pair soon sauntered up and the decision was made to relocate across Soquel Avenue to Charlie Hong Kong. The pack crossed the street to find: 1) The beer selection is pathetic 2) There’s somewhere close to zero room to stand. So, those of us still reasonable drinkers stayed while those of us far down the lane of heavy drinkin’ ambled down the street to the recently-opened Gilman Brewing in the former location of Tony and Alba’s beside Whole Foods. This group of ne’er-do-wells consisted of Pink Cherry Licker, (second) husband Fap Jack, TIMMY!! and Hareless. They were soon joined by Dung-Fu Grip who ran back and forth to Charlie Hong Kong’s carrying messages. So while the Hash progressed these jokers drank away the evening. Eventually these five finished their drinking here and decided to see what was going on with the hash. Upon returning to Charlie Hong Kong, they learned the hares had outed and it was almost time to Circleup for Introductions. Co-GM Broke Bench Mountain, making a guest appearance, soon called for said circleup and witnessed responses from the following: TIMMY!!, Pink Cherry Licker, Fap Jack, Hareless, Thmp-Thmp, Princess Di(arrhea), My Little Bony, Cum You Will Not, Flours For Anal Bum, Snake Me Anywhere, Bailas Con Burros, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, dBASED, Dung-Fu Grip and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Our four-legged hounds this week were Junk Puncher and Spot’d Dick. Pack away.

Marker made the merry members of this madness motivate east on Soquel Avenue, cross Seabright Avenue and continue for quite a distance before, sadly, passing Sante Adairius without stopping and continue across Morrissey Boulevard and still keep going. We continued trudging along Soquel Avenue until reaching Park Way where an arrow turned the troops on-right across Soquel Avenue onto South Park Way.

Pink Cherry Licker, Flours For Anal Bum, Hareless, Cold Smegma Kamikaze casually saunter

South Park Way has but one noticeable quality, it’s dreary. The die has been cast, Arana Gulch is our destination. Upon reaching Agnes Street, an arrow led the litter on-right and to the entrance to a (very) dark (and [very] dangerous) Arana Gulch. The mob gelled to provide herd immunity against a prowling coyote pack or a rogue mountain lion. Luckily, there’s no option as to how to proceed through here as the hare arrows were smaller than those on Valentine’s Day cards. The trail through Arana Gulch will eventually eject you onto Fredrick Street and we crossed Fredrick and boogied along Broadway. The first on-right, Darwin Street, was our destination. Darwin comes to climax at Hanover Street, except for the recently refurbished locals-only walkway that emerges onto Gault Street beside the library.

Here a check so kindly solved by the Eagles let us know on-right was right. We proceeded along Gault Street until seeing our favored BN mark leading us into the parking lot behind a building facing Soquel Avenue. It was here, foolishly under a bright light, the hare-pair were finally cornered as they swilled away.

Bailas Con Burros, Snake Me Anywhere, Dung-Fu Grip, dBASED, Steamy Baanorrhea at Beer Check

Upon concluding our appointed task here, we proceeded back to Gault Street and went on-right to cross Seabright Avenue after dealing with Bacon Queef and Just Foot Pussy who stood in their front yard and watched the pack parade past. Once across Seabright we continued into the parking lot behind Lillian’s and there Dung-Fu Grip set up shop for his vindictive Religion machine. Here’s are but a few of the down-downs, justified or not, issued by our RA this night.

Anyone affected by the storm that inundated the area this past week; backsliders were duly punished; Just Foot Pussy who was not wearing his Foot Pussy shoes; Banana Basher for mistaking a jogger for a hasher on the walkway beside the library and hiding his bulkiness; analversaries were recognized; TIMMY!! for blindly running across Soquel Avenue with careless regard for approaching traffic. That pretty much did it for…oh, wait. The accursed hare-pair. We thanked them for keeping trail a respectable length though trail itself was FAR from respectable. The RA then dismissed the pack and I hereby do the same for this Trash.

The preceding was a factual accounting of actual events though possibly not as they actually occurred. One should never allow the facts to stand in the way of a good story. Do not allow the profound to become the enemy of the interesting.

A Scribe’s sole purpose is to provide entertainment to their kennel mates. Whether or not they are successful in this endeavor is still a subject open to debate.

I chose not to complicate this Hash Trash with facts thereby allowing me to extract almost any end I desired. It was with this motive in mind I recounted the events that comprised Hash Twelve-26.

By Special Appointment of His Royal Majesty ‘G’, this Hash Trash has been compiled and printed by permission of no one other than the author at Santa Cruz, Ca., or elsewhere if need be, on this, the eighth day of January in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-three.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe

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