Hash Twelve-46: Schwan Lake Park: Use or Abuse?

Flours For Anal Bum,

I suggest she be sent ‘flowers’, she should be feeling quite poorly after her most recent attempt at haring. Her first failed attempt at haring was Hash Twelve-13 out of New Bohemia. That time the then-Just Danielle blamed her trail’s failure on her co-hare Cold Smegma Kamikaze. As he was the senior hare, we accepted her explanation. THIS time, however, Cold Smegma refused to copulate with Flours and she was coerced into being the lone hare. She can no longer blame her inadequacies on poor old Cold Smegma. He was nowhere in sight this night. Details to follow.

We began our assembly process at the Crow’s Nest Beach Market. Actually, the Market is beside the harbor rather than the beach but apparently the owners did not like the sound of Harbor Market. The sun had burned through the May gloom and everyone was in good spirits as a result. This yielded much frivolity being felt and an almost complete disregard for the fact Flours would be the lone hare on only her second attempt. Failure to sense impending doom has always been a curse of we half-minds.

Things even began shaky when she said she was leaving but requested a few extra minutes as she needed to visit the ladies room first. Instructions of Trail were then requested which yielded nothing more than, I’m leaving!

Hare’s Instructions of Trail: I’m leaving!

Everyone chuckled just long enough to allow Flours to exit before realizing that actually WAS all she had to say and was truly gone leaving the litter in the lurch.

After looking around at each other it was determined we were probably no worse off without Instructions of Trail due to the fact Flours did not really know what she was doing anyway and admitted her scouting of trail had been ‘minimal’. In her case, the word ‘minimal’ is most likely synonymous with the word ‘non-existent’. Everyone returned to their drink and did not further concern themselves with this flagrant abuse of the long held Surf City tradition.

After the fifteen minute lead time(plus potty time) acting GM dBASED requested a Circleup for Introductions and heard responses from: Bacon Queef, TIMMY!!, Thmp-Thmp, Princess Di(arrhea), Cum, U Will Not!, Pink Cherry Licker, Boneless Shelter, Steamy Baanorrhea, Circle Gherkin’, Just Brian, Just Josh, Jersey Lunchbox, Clearly Not A Hooker, Dung-Fu Grip and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. This week’s canine contingency consisted of Spot’d Dick and Happy.

Trail took off in front of the Crow’s Nest and along East Cliff Drive until making an on-left onto Ninth Avenue but made an immediate on-right into some tall shiggy.

Trail was more easily LOST than FOUND through this section!

While we have traversed this area before, it has never been this dense. This year’s rains and, apparently, the lack of anyone willing to maintain it, has made this a challenging place.

The only thing going for us was the absence of poison oak or major encroachmenti by briars.

Also, mercifully, it was late enough in the day that the bees had abandoned their pollen gathering so no one was attacked.

Not far past the spot where Swamp Rat received his name, the gang emerged onto Delores Street followed by an on-right onto Ninth Avenue. Ninth was used until it’s termination at Eaton Street. There it was on-left and past the former abode of Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain. Upon reaching Seventh Avenue we were pointed on-right.

This lasted but a short distance until the accursed railroad tracks were reached and an arrow led the litter on-right to begin a long and boring traipsing of the tracks. This lasted until the first possible on-right into Schwan Lake Park. As none of these trails have names, what follows is a vague description of what we were subjected to. We followed the first trail and discovered Liquor Check. Again, it was one of those cheap one-shot plastic bottles. Yuk. After that it was a quick on-left to another trail and eventually on-down to the lake itself. There were more twists and turns in the open space until every trail, legal or not, had been trounced. We rounded one last curve and went on-up to an on-left into a field of tall grass, most likely tick-infested. Eventually we were pointed out of the area and across the railroad tracks onto El Dorado Avenue. Never has so small an area been used/abused(you make the call) to such a mind-numbing extent.

When El Dorado reached Brommer Street, an arrow turned the troops on-left. This began a long and uneventful stretch of macadam which eventually took us across Seventh Avenue and on-down to the Upper Harbor. We motivated along the harbor until near the Murray Street bridge where we discovered the Beermeister and the hare. Apparently, our hare was unaware a Beer Check was a necessary component of the Hash. She believed Liquor Check would suffice. While she has now been corrected, the damage was done and hounds headed for the Beer Trough in dismay. The only beneficial aspect to this tragedy is we were conveniently in the correct location for Religion.

So as Beer Check continued unabated, Religious Adviser Dung-Fu Grip began the festivities by informing the pack he began trail late due to watch a pornographic sight, a pair of pigeons fornicating. Yes, just prior to leaving the start, he, Princess and Thmp-Thmp watched as pigeons pummeled. An intriguing start, if somewhat off-color, to Religion. We moved on from there to Jersey Lunchbox snaring the hare; dBASED claiming a snare but he shortcut so much he was awarded a punitive down-down; Just Josh was mocked for applying so much sunscreen it resembled jizz; there was a mention of The Catch and Dung-Fu Grip was punished for not knowing it’s origin. In his defense it was decades prior to his birth: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Catch_(American_football) Cum, U Will Not! was mocked for carrying an entire mini-bar in her bag, Flours For Anal Bum was mocked for losing her phone on trail, it was mercifully retrieved by a mortal who brought it to her at the harbor; flours remained at the altar for not knowing what bukkake is which is what Clearly Not A Hooker’s dog was named last week. And lastly, Flours STILL remained at the altar as she was punished for laying a shitty trail. This Hash is over.

On-on-on was at Engfer’s Pizza and was attended by Jersey Lunchbox, TIMMY!!, dBASED, Clearly Not a Hooker, Just Josh and Circle Gherkin’. On-on-on-on was at the Jury Room and saw Dung-Fu Grip, Snake Me Anywhere and Hand Over Pissed. Wait! Two of those hashers weren’t even at the damn hash!!

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 to not 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-46.

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

Submitted with all respect due,



Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3

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