Hash Twelve-55: Beach Blanket Bungle

Sand gets in your shoes,

Plus any uninhabited bodily space nearby. Make your own assumptions as to which ones that could encompass. The only inhabited spaces this night were the ones for vehicle parking. A Summer Thursday at the Crow’s Nest with the weekly beach party in progress was just the first of many serious errors perpetrated by this hare-pair this evening. Details to follow…

Alcohol was not allowed on the patio area so hounds either brought their own or, devious bastards that they are, went next door to the Beach Market, bought a can and dragged it back to the start.

No alcoholic bevys on the patio? No problem! Disregard the damn sign says TIMMY!!

The weather was stellar and the gang grew. Shallow Hole and Shitty Cat came over-the-hill a day early for W2B. Princess Di(arrhea) is wearing her bionic body parts as if she was born with them. But as for the hares…Cum, U Will Not! is known as a theme hasher. Consequently, tonight we honor Booty Camp, wear your camouflage. Only Broke Bench Mountain is allowed to wear a camiSOLE! Additionally, co-hare Circle Gherkin’ claims to have injured his leg. He also blushes when asked how such occurred. The pack smells prelay. Quite a while after their advertised 6:33 on-out time, Instructions of Trail were delivered. They were rather mundane, exactly in line with how this trail is expected to proceed. Hares out.

The next fifteen passed as routinely as possible when expecting a substandard trail. In other words, additional imbibing. Upon completion of additional alcoholic reinforcement, co-GMs Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain called for Circleup for Introductions and this is the results: dBASED, Flours For Anal Bum, Occasional Rapist, Hugh Heifer, Shallow Hole, TIMMY!!, Steamy Baanorrhea, Thmp-Thmp, Princess Di(arrhea), Dung-Fu Grip, Boneless Shelter, Pink Cherry Licker and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Our canine contingency this week was Happy, Junk Puncher, Shitty Cat and Scratch and Sniff. Spot’d Dick was co-haring. Pack out.

We proceeded towards Twin Lakes State Beach but only one block. It was then on-left and on-up Assembly Avenue. This street SHOULD be named Unassembled Avenue because it is littered with potholes and more closely resembles one of the unpaved alleys in the Seabright area than passage meant for a vehicle. At Eaton Street we were pointed on-right to Seventh Avenue and on-left there. Not far up Seventh, LC sign was viewed and it was on-right into Twin Lakes Park. In the dark, dreary hind end of the park, Liquor Check was staged. Upon finishing here it was back to Seventh and on-right to Brommer Street where the promised Turkey/Eagle split was encountered. The Eagles continued on-up Seventh Avenue and went on-left and eventually into Arana Gulch Greenbelt. The Turkeys went on-left towards the Harbor. Once down in the bowels, it was on-right and onto Marsh Vista Trail through Arana Gulch, on-right onto Broadway-Brommer Trail which circles around and back to the Harbor. Once there it was across the top of the Harbor and on-right down to Cumz and Broke Bench’s yacht for Beer Check.

Beer Check aboard the S. S. Bubbles!

Miraculously, no one got motion sickness and tossed their cookies overboard. We were thankful for that and soon migrated to Twin Lakes Beach for Religion. Once here, and graciously given an already-roaring fire courtesy of some people leaving, Pink Cherry Licker and Dung-Fu Grip fired up Religion. Here’s a sampling of down-downs issued: those that honored the Booty Camp theme; backsliders were punished and those that wore matching camo shirts. Yeah, I know. I must recognize the hares. They, too, were called to the altar and chided for starting trail in this location but then told the fire on the beach almost redeemed them. On-on-on was right here needless to say. This Hash is over.

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-55.

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 twenty-fifth day of July in the year of our Hash tow-thousand twenty-three.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe

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