To AGM twenty-3. You undeserving dawgs have survived another year of Hashing (relatively) unscathed. No fatalities this year even though Dung-Fu Grip and dBASED tried their damnedest to thin our ranks. They failed though, just as did as hares.
Let’s set the stage and put the players in place for another comedic tragedy in one act. Current co-GMs Cumz Out My Nose and Broke Bench Mountain are preparing to cede the their role as ring leaders of the shitshow and hand over the reins of their reign to the next set of victims. We also have current RAs Pink Cherry Licker and Dung-Fu Grip waiting in the wings as the next lambs-to-the-slaughter GMs. By virtue of the fact they are the only (4) nominees on the ballot, I feel confident in predicting the future in this particular instance. All other Mismanagement positions are open but there seems to be little interest. Practically no one has campaigned except PCL and Dung-Fu and they are running unopposed. Most hashers will probably nominate kennel mates they do not like in an effort to irritate them. This will complicate the task of vote coagulating by Banana Basher and Cumz Out My Nose as they must remember who requested they not be appointed to certain positions but other positions that they WOULD accept. Graft, corruption, cronyism and the stuffing of the ballot box are the order of the day come AGM time. Just like in Chicago, vote early, vote often! Tammany Hall cannot hold not a candle to the political intricacies, meanderings and subterfuge of the mighty Surf City H3 political machine! So, in brief, that’s how the pack entered Vino-by-the-Sea on the evening of November the ninth, twenty-23. Everyone was on the menu and apt to be fingered by someone before the (new) GMs dismissed the pack well into the night. Raise the curtain and put the actors into action.
The room rapidly filled with hashers, twenty-5 to be exact plus two four-legged ones. I do not believe we should include Apple Bobber in such as this is his usual watering hole and it just happened to coincide with AGM. He was abhorred to see us invading his personal space. Socializing always runs rampant at AGM. This is our birthday party and we take this annual opportunity to take a breather from (deservedly) mocking our kennel mates and instead telling them how much we’ve enjoyed their company this year and bringing everyone up to date on the various events transpiring in their lives. Soon enough we know we will return to our usual vindictive ways telling each other how crappy their trail was, how clumsy they were in that minimal shiggy, how they called on-on before the third mark, that they whined when they followed dBASED and then discovered he wasn’t even CLOSE to being on true trail, how the RA always undeservedly awards them punitive down-downs and they didn’t do nothing, how the Hare Raiser won’t leave them the fuck alone if they don’t hare every six weeks, the sad fact the Beermeister always stocks the Beer Trough with crap offerings, why does the chip selection never have something worth putting in their mouth, trails are frequently too long, trails are frequently too short, why are the attractive Virgins always already with someone, when they hare why is it always cold, dark, rainy or all three; the list of our whining complaints continues almost ad infinitum. But let’s get back to AGM, as I said, we will soon revert to being the same pitiable wankers as before.
In their last act of defiance, the GMs waited until damn near 7PM to make Instructions of Trail announcement. The only commonality between this and their previous announcements is that it told us not one friggin’ item of any value towards trail. Hare away.
Fifteen minutes, and then some, were expended continuing with fierce socializing. There was no need to waste time settling bar tabs as everyone was prepaid for the evening. Soon enough though Banana Basher called for Circleup for Introductions and he then heard from: Courtesy Flush, dBASED, Hugh Heifer, Steamy Baanorrhea, CumFart Zone, Thmp-Thmp, Princess Di(arrhea), Worm, Today Is Monday, TIMMY!!, Circle Gherkin’, Clearly not a Hooker, Dung-Fu Grip, Hareless, Pink Cherry Licker, Snake Me Anywhere, Just Foot Pussy, Bacon Queef, FapJack, Cum,U Will Not and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. Our birthday canine contingency was Spot’d Dick and Scratch and Sniff. Pack out.
This was a mercifully short outing. Down the stairs and circle on-left to the very end of the wharf where Broke Bench poured copious quantities of cheap tequila, some of which were offered to mortals that were in the area and wondered what-the-hell was goin’ on. I am not sure all of them understood the explanation of Hashing but they seemed to understand ‘Free Liquor’! The hare then suggested hounds head to their favorite nearby bar for a drink. It appears a number of hounds skipped Liquor Check and went directly to their favorite bar to begin with. So went trail this night. Back to Vino.
It was now face feed time and the options were excellent for vegetarians and non-vegetarians alike. Seconds and thirds were the order of the day. And then came desert! I need not waste your time recounting such, it’s common knowledge and still stored within our memory banks. (and possibly our waistlines)
Now came the climax of the evening, well, maybe just the FIRST of those for a lucky few of you. Announcement of the victims, I find it difficult to characterize them as winners in this context, of the balloting became pubic. GMs, of course, are now repeat offenders Pink Cherry Licker and Dung-Fu Grip. Even running unopposed they did not receive 100% of the votes. That should be a forewarning of what is to befall us this year. Some people, apparently, do NOT learn from their mistakes. They will get what they so richly deserve. Cum,U Will Not! will continue as Social Sexretary. Oops, I meant Secretary. FapJack will continue mercilessly harassing the mortal shit right out of us as Hare Raiser. Key-rist! Clearly not a Hooker assumes the position of Haberdasher and will implore us to purchase overpriced, low quality attire that will disintegrate upon the first washing. While I have heard rumors this is not her FAVORITE position, she said she’ll make it work to her advantage and intends to derive great pleasure from it. We will have to endure a Triumvirate of Terror in the Scribing sector this year consisting of Circle Gherkin'(anticipate lurid tales of bizarre sexual exploits[poor Just Megan]), International House of Pussy(her handle says it all[this is her just desert for not attending]) and Cumz Out My Nose(she promises to get even with the a-holes who verbally abused her as GM this year). Steamy Baanorrhea, the cheap-ass bastard, will manage a rotating schedule of Beermeisters next year thereby allowing him to pay nothing to Hash and providing him with an endless supply of free beer while imposing his will on others to take over every few months. For our compliment of Religious Advisers, get an earful of this. Lead RA will be Thmp-Thmp, a harrier that attended but a handful of Hashes this year. His possible replacement is Jersey Lunchbox, a harrier that lives fifty friggin’ miles distant. I guess he can RA by Zoom. As a last resort we must endure TIMMY!! This decrepit clown is so damned old he only wears his Hash necklace so he can remember his name. Continuing in his role as destroyer of info, AKA On-Sec, will be dBASED. Those of you that have watched the wild swings in the Hash Count know what potentially awaits us next year.
So, there’s your Mismanagers/Manglers for the approaching twelve months. I wish you luck. I intend to be so far in the background you won’t even remember who I am.
Soon after the completion of the balloting results were completed, hashers began exiting at an alarming rate probably to avoid having to help clean up and/or not be present if the police raid the festivities.
This Hash, as well as this year, 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 remains 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-74.
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 twelfth day of November in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-three.
Submitted with all respect due,
Magic Drag Queen
Surf City H3 Scribe