Category Archives: SCH3 Trash

Hash Trash 710: Return to Psycho Baby’s Lair

SCH3 Trash

Traffic has been a clusterfuck lately, right? The Valleys went home and the Slugs came in. Every new Slug and their entire families dropping them off are hopelessly lost. Traffic is bad on the other side of our bay, too. Sealed Hatch was stuck in massive traffic coming over from Monterey. Luckily, this gave her plenty of time to practice her really good down-down songs. Our default hare Timmy!!! vowed to make us pay for nobody stepping up to hare this week. I feared he would also make us pay dearly for his pasta overindulgences in Italy with a loooong-ass trail out of the Jury Room. Hugh Heifer showed up with a good pre-buzz on and blew off trail to watch baseball with the Rush Inn bartender. Yep, she ditched us for a Dodgers game. How insulting!

The hounds circled up out front and hit the road down Ocean St. A few confusing checks dropped us right in the middle of the skeevyness of San Lorenzo Park at dusk. Big thanks to Shallow Hole for getting us back on trail and out of harm’s way. Well, not exactly…the sketchiness continued as we then went down the levee all the way to Salz Tannery and across River St. to the train tracks. Through lots of consulting with bums, “Hey, did you see a guy go this way?” we ended up at beer check #1 at the back of a truck at Pioneer St. next to a pumpkin patch.

dBASED soon rolled up in his car, leisurely eating a sandwich and wearing jeans. If y’all have been wondering what it would take to keep dBASED from running trail, we learned pneumonia is one of them. If it kept King of the Ball Busters from running, that dude must have the plague and we do not want that shit. Word on the street was that Ghettoman had just made it to he Jury Room and would be catching up with us soon, no doubt. We drained the beer check as best we could before leaving because obviously no beer left behind would go unfound in that neighborhood.

Around Costco, Pink Cherry Licker announced she’d just received a text from the hare telling us to go right by the Evergreen Cemetery. Most of us then shortcut straight to Evergreen, so that kind of made it a text trail/eagle trail split. We couldn’t find marks in the darkness of Harvey West park for awhile, but one of Timmy!!!’s tiny hare arrows ↑ were eventually found on the street in front of the cemetery. It was then on-up to Mission Hill, down to the Town Clock and straight into Rush Inn for beer check #2 with pitchers and hobnobbing. When the pitchers ran dry, we headed on-in back to the Jury Room. On the way, Shiny Snail Trail lunged to grab a flower from Puff the Magic Drag Queen’s hair, but tripped and grabbed at Puff on her way down. She almost strangled him by his camera strap. Ghettoman almost caught her but thought “oh, she’s got it” …Oh no, she didn’t.

Religion was out behind the Jury Room in a parking lot on May St. AccuPrick RA’d and Cumcerto was beer fairy. Shiny Snail Trail recently wrecked her car by taking out two trees and a mailbox. Tonight she only managed to wreck her knee in a fall. Hugh Heifer accused Six o’ Nine of not paying. I still don’t know whether he did because they both drank. Finger Nips, Sealed Hatch and Cumz Out My Nose were backsliders.

dBASED was quarantined from the chalices due to his horrid croup-monia so Sealed Hatch sang him a cheery song about dinosaurs with HIV. His brand spankin’ new wife Occasional Rapist didn’t feel like joining us tonight, so dBASED was punished for not making her cum. Ghettoman was busted for his late start, but he probably still pulled off FRB! Cumz didn’t do trail, but somehow emerged from the Jury Room not nearly as drunk as fellow barfly Hugh Heifer. That definitely deserves a beer.

Some sour-puss neighbor lady from across the street came over and told us to quiet down. She’d had enough of our foul-mouthed hooliganism. Cumcerto assured her we’d finish up and split. Then things moved real fast. Hare Timmy!!! was busted for making several calls and texts to Pink Cherry Licker about all the ways he’d badly fucked up his trail along the way. He even proceeded to spell his own kid’s name wrong in one of his texts. Blame it on the martinis. The burning question of the night: did Timmy!!!’s text mean go right (turn) by the cemetery or go right by (straight past) the cemetery??? Pinky and Six drank to this conundrum. Accu had his 125th analversary! And Twisted Fister had a repeat of his 25th analversary. Don’t know why he got two times the shaming and shitty beer for just one analversary. And the hare…because it was time to get out of sour-puss’s neighborhood before things got fugly. Suddenly, we were interrupted again. This time by a young lady getting into her car in our parking lot. Turns out she was leaving her ALTO DUI class. We let that be an omen that our proceedings really needed to end pronto, so we tried to get next week’s trail announcement out of Hugh so we could all wank off to on-on-on at new joint YOLO. Talking must’ve been too hard, but she did manage to take a chomp out of Brokebench Mountain’s chest, bruisey tooth marks and all. Since then, word has gotten around that Hugh will be haring out of Chicken Toss (Henfling’s) in Ben Lomond this week. There might even be trail if she manages to leave the bar this time.

On-on,
Princess Di(arrhea)

Hash Trash 708: A Full Moon Swoon Yields a Downtown Disaster

SCH3 Trash

Hello Voyeurs,

Puff the Magic Drag Queen here pulling double-duty this week due to Princess Di(arrhea) purportedly being ill. Funny thing though, I heard she was down in Monterey for Can’d H3’s 69th hash on Saturday.

Scribing for Trail 707 would have been more enjoyable enabling me to give Dung-Fu Grip the reaming he so royally deserved after another of his infamous Death Marches, this one surpassing his other as it was in the dark…beneath towering redwoods…miles from civilization.

However, instead Puff has been saddled with recapping Twisted Fister and The Human Pube’s failed attempt at trail-laying.

Speaking of those two jokers, here they are with Fister delivering Instructions of Trail while The Human Pube is making last minute adjustments to a trail they probably already felt certain would be less than stellar. In THAT, at least, they were correct.

 

We started at Woodstock Pizza on Front Street, a first for Surf City. The grub and libations available may dictate a return visit here someday though. As soon as the hares outed, the mob returned to the fierce socializing we are so noted for. 

 

 

 

Speaking of socializing, pictured above are two prodigal harriettes that returned to the fold this week. On the left is Phyllis Driller and on the right is Wet Feral Pussy. They have been absent from our company too long but say they’ve seen the error of their ways and now know they’ll never be anything better than hashers.

After the passage of sufficient time for the hares to screw this trail up, circleup was convened with 22 hounds in the parking lot out of the hearing range of young ears.

After introductions were completed. the pack outed north on Front Street and discovered the first check at Cooper Street. Having been warned to avoid flour on Pacific, chalk took the troops down Cooper to Pacific, left on Pacific and then a quick right onto Church Street. As we passed Louie’s Cajun Kitchen and Bourbon Bar, Louie himself came out to make sure we knew ‘our kind’ is not welcome in his fine establishment. I made sure he knew we’ve been kicked out of far nicer places than his and we cancelled the gorilla beer check we’d planned for there.

We continued along Church Street until making a right on Chestnut Street and , mercifully, passing both the train tunnel and the hideous hill known as Green Street. We were, however, forced to deal with the seemingly never-ending stairs that go to the top of Mission Hill.

       Above you see Hugh Heifer and Phyllis Driller dealing with these accursed stairs.

Once to Mission Street, things degenerated rapidly into a comedy of errors. The pack universally turned on-left. Mission Street was checked as was the end of High Street at the pedestrian bridge over Highway 1. Finding nothing there, a few hounds went down School Street to check the stairs leading on-down to North Pacific. They had no luck either. After sufficient double-checking and whining was performed, we mental midgets finally deduced trail went down Mission towards the Town Clock. And yes, trail was found there and then on-left on North Pacific and on-left onto River Street. As you know, River Street is the main thoroughfare for our local hobo population to travel to and from the Homeless Shelter just across Highway 1. As darkness was beginning to fall, they were out in large numbers. Many of them passed us mumbling to themselves or looking at us like they thought we were crazy! Trail turned on-left on Mora Street. Heading on-up Mora, we encountered a person of dubious character who informed us the guy with the flour bag turned on-right at the top of Mora. That being said, if the hare had gone LEFT at that intersection he’d have run into the pack lost at Holy Cross Church so no one thought the hare-pair had turned in that direction anyway!

Mora morphs into Potrero Street after making said on-right and part way down Potrero a hare arrow pointed the pod on-left into the Old Sash Mill.

 

 

 

 

 

While many thought this a circle jerk, no one wished to miss one of the promised multiple Beer Checks so one and all turned into the place. Sure enough, first Beer Check was found in the parking lot…as was one of the hares!

The Human Pube jumped into his truck and left saying, There’s an on-in trail and possibly one more Beer Check! Hmmm. How can the hares not know if there’s a second Beer Check?!? Oh, well. I guess that’s in keeping with the uncertainty this trail has offered so far anyway. If you thought the jaunt down River Street was ill-advised, there’s one place worse than well-traveled River Street: The friggin’ levee! Yep, well past dark this cruel hare-pair led the litter along the levee all the way to Religion on the top floor of the parking structure on the corner of River Street and River Street South. When we arrived we found the hares parked fifty feet from Hugh Heifer’s Beermobile and holding second Beer Check there! Hounds thought they were in hog heaven with a Beer Check to the left and the beer trough to the right!

Once the confusion over two available beer supplies was sorted out, Religion was convened. dBASED called last week’s hare, Dung-Fu Grip to the altar was a punitive down-down for causing Surf City to be the cause of (another) anthrax scare, this one on campus due to his haphazard, careless spreading of flour over Core Campus last Thursday. After this task was dispensed with Dung-Fu Grip was installed as acting Religious Adviser. His first act was to appoint Dog Breath as his Beer Fairy.

Pictured above is Dog Breath. Do not go out drinking with this man on a Saturday night!

Also awarded down-downs was Twat Did You Say? who, even after all these years of hashing, confused the hash terms ‘DFL’ and ‘FRB’; The Human Pube for toking up (and not sharing) in circleup; Wet Feral Pussy as a backslider (Phyllis Driller was lost-along-trail somewhere); Deep Stroke (Yes, still here) and Can’d H3’s Just Bobby for offering piss-poor name suggestions for Just Anne (this was her fifth hash). Speaking of Just Anne, sadly, she will remain Just Anne until at least her next hash. Yes, we were unsuccessful in coming up with the rude moniker she so richly deserves.

On-on-on was back at Woodstock where the festivities went on until almost 11PM.

Thursday the twenty-sixth presents the pack with a quandary. Six of Nine has volunteered to hare his first trail for us…maybe. Acting RA Dung-Fu Grip gave Six an ultimatum though: If Trail Announcement is not posted by 8AM Monday, Dung-Fu promises to take over haring duties. How’s THAT for a fate worse than death?!?

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-second day of September in the year of our Hash two-thousand thirteen.

On-out,

Puff

the

Magic

Drag

Queen

Hash Trash #706 ‘Flip flopin’ in paridise!’

SCH3 Trash, Uncategorized

Howdey wanker’s! Its Summertime for us locals, so what better place to meet than Pono’s Island Bar and Grille down on Union street. Princess (Di)arrhea and Thmp Thmp as the hares of this debauchery had the theme of a flip flop trail or a van’s style trail. I decided to wear my Teva’s and chose to do the easier flip flop trail, but in case I could have chosen to run the van’s trail (better than flip flops but ya still get the feel).  Now Dirty Dolmas showed up and I decided to support her and walk the flip flop trail, what a disaster that turned out to be, no one knew where they we’re going and DD was so discouraged she gave up and went home. I then proceeded to BC, next time never chit chat with your co-hounds, always find flour on your own so that your never led astray, I mean how did they fuck up and miss the check at Water and Soquel?(see my map)  Anyhow my flipflop trail distance via mapmyrun = ~2.37 miles  and distance for Van’s trail=~3.7    . Shortest trial I’ve done in awhile, it was refreshing to be at beer check before the FRB of Van’s trail. We lingered behind Hind Quarter drank awesome beer in cans provided by the hares, and then all mosied back to Religion, again I was chit chatting with ‘Twat did you say?’ and was following other hounds, not paying attention they led us to River street cinema, WTF? Thats why I was late or DFL back to religion. OK Accuprick was RA, Cuff my Muff his beer bitch. She was so funny placing all the down down glasses on top of the beer trough cooler, good one. Did I mention we had a virgin or 2? Pink Cherry Licker brought her guy pal Josh. Paki Sak from SVH3 broght his virgin Rebecca. Boner malfunction is now considered a FACU, TIM (Today is Monday) from SVH3 visited. Our married parents of one little cutie batootie, Coka Cola and Hairy Potter blessed us with a visit of their beautiful dtr. Micah (hope spelling right).  Ghettoman even showed up last minute too. He always manages to get to start the lastest but manages to get to BC first (with FRB’s) damn them military men, or hey goota luv them. We wanted virgins to show us their goods but dumb jokes they squandered. Somehow Paki Sak was the only hound whom missed BC? We had visit from an official so we made religion short. And the Hares!….         Thanks for letting us slow down a bit, if not a few of us, took it easy this night and drank a few, walked a few, and just took in the sights, smells of our awesomeness SC summertime! Locals rule!

On On you wankerloids’!!

Occasional Rapist

Hash Trash # 705

SCH3 Trash

This week’s meet up was at the brand new West End Tap & Kitchen. We all know Puff the Magic Drag Queen is a man of habit (630 consecutive hashes—get a life!!!), so when Thmp-Thmp and I rolled up, we saw Puff lurking outside Santa Cruz Mountain Brewing across the driveway instead of popping right into the new joint. Considering his other routine of 99 Bottles, I could understand his trepidation of trying the new brewer in town. West End’s got some competition. Hugh Heifer agreed to hare at the last minute and said she would pull together a SHORT 2 miler. Maybe that’s why Cum Lord came in his jeans. (Pun intended!) Maybe Monthly Friend also heard that trail would be short and figured it was a great time for her regular monthly visit along with The Human Pube. It was a nice surprise to see Deep Stroke made it back home safely after taking a bit of a walkabout…or driveabout. While Hairy Fuck 2.5 and I were fawning over the pooch cuteness of Porter and Janis hanging out together tethered to the bike racks, Pussy Galore told us to get our asses to circle-up out back.

It was a quick introduction around the circle then a pack scatter. We found the trail down Swift St. to the ocean…barely. When we got to West Cliff Dr., there was no check, just a little splotch of blue flour. I followed Puff because he was all I had. I won’t bore you with the details of this trail, but it was a lot longer than 2 miles. I shit you not. Trail took us through areas we’ve been to twice recently so we were haunted by trail markings of hashes past. At least our hare made a tiny effort to help us along with some of her trail markings, like “N☮” (translation: trail marking is an old one—plus I’m a hippie) and “FELLOW STONERS BE CAREFUL…LOW HANGIN CHAIN” (there is an obstacle—plus I’m a hippie). We went through Natural Bridges, Antonelli Pond and then to Mission St. A left turn at Miramar took us to beer check at Timmy!!!’s house.

At beer check, I realized the reason why I rarely have any hash stories to share about scribemate Shallow Hole. She usually gets to pre-lube later than I do and then she hauls ass on trail, so by the time I get to beer check, she’s done with her beer and ready to on-in. Life in the fast lane! In Timmy!!!’s backyard, the recycle bin was more than arm’s length away, so I “planted a beer seed” (i.e. buried a bottlecap) in his planter box. I also poured a splash of beer on it, so let’s see if it grows! 😉 Speaking of Timmy!!!, he has a FREE piano to force on you so let him know if you’re interested. But he’s gone for now to Tuscany for a month to drink the fine wine and to mangia, mama mia! Mental note: if we let him hare when he gets back, he’s going to send us on a death march to work off those carbs. 🙁 Timmy!!! and Pink Cherry Licker wisely didn’t follow us to religion this night because there was a 4am trip to the airport in their very near future.

Religion was back to the start parking lot, but behind Kelly’s where it smelled all warm and yeasty. Just the right (g-)spot for Pussy Galore to RA. Deep Stroke was beer fairy. Just Anne and Just Sara have impending namings so they fielded profane questions from the peanut gallery. Visitors from CAN’d, Just Bobby and Ghettoman, were equally welcomed (by hasher brethren) and repelled (by crap warm beer). Virgin Jeff told a blowjob joke. Shiny Snail Trail called my attention to the metal ball swinging from his belt right into his junk region. WTF?? The hare was hounded for being a dirty liar and a dirty hippie. Shiny Snail Trail, Dung-Fu Grip and I were toasted for being August birthday babies. Six called out a most shameful crime on trail. He claimed Pinky and Twat Did You Say? were confused because a true trail mark looked like an arrow AND a false combined. Is that the most half-minded thing you ever heard??? Backsliders Monthly Friend and Deep Stroke intertwined arms and drank to their infrequency. Six was chided for making a shameless plug for his HashFish Indiegogo campaign. I heard your order comes with a bonus gift…which may or not be a Vegas hooker.

May the Hash get a piece,
Princess Di(arrhea)

Hash Trash # 704, August 22, 2013

SCH3 Trash

For Hash # 704, the pack returned to the west side of town.  TIMMY!!! was the Hare this week and chose Ye Ole Watering Hole as the starting point.  TIMMY!!! confessed, that even though it’s the closest bar to his house, it’s so shitty of a place, that even HE would not normally hang out there.

 

 

 

After a few cocktails, the pack circled up out back, and then started searching for trail.  This proved difficult because the hare didn’t make it easy to find.  To make matters worse, some hashers got confused by the pink flour marks that were left behind 2 weeks earlier.  Eventually we were on on, crossed Mission Street to King Street and headed up a big hill (oh joy!).  A check was solved and took us left on Escalona for a couple blocks, and then into a wooded area on to dirt trails to a paved road along Arroyo Seco Canyon.   Some hashers were particularly excited to be there! 

After exiting the woods, we headed left on Meder Street for several blocks, past the Jewish Cemetery, and into Moore Creek Preserve.  There was a liquor check with a bottle of Fireball in the woods.  Whoo Hoo!

 

 

 

 

The trail continued to the top of the hill, through a pasture, where we dodged cow pies and pissed off a bunch of cows eating their dinner.  Hugh Heifer got to socialize with her bovine relatives and ask for their forgiveness for eating beef at Beat Your Meat.  I heard there were sightings of cows fornicating, but did not witness any cow porn.  The pack left the farm, crossed Highway 1 and went left on Mission Street, past the Housing Authority, and right on Natural Bridges.   Hashers found beer check in a parking lot on the right.  The pack walked to Religion along the railroad tracks to the Safeway parking lot.  The big topic of discussion was snap chatting and a TV show about a man with a 132 pound scrotum.

Accuprick was the RA and nominated Just Anne as his lovely Beer Fairy.  She was especially excited about getting to wear the lighted tiara for the first time.  Broke Bench Mountain got a down down for his usual stupidity and threw beer in Accuprick’s face.  We celebrated a few Analversaries!  It was Dog Breath’s 200th, dBASED’s 550th, and Puff the Magic Drag Queen’s 625th Surf City Hash!  Get a life for Crist sake!  A few Harriettes drank for being “attempted pussy patters”.  Twat Did You Say?, Shiny Snail trail and Just Anne tried to befriend a cat on trail.  Dog Breath drank too for acting like a dog and chased the cat away.  Shiny Snail Trail was chastised for knocking on a stranger’s door to ask for feminine hygiene products on a past trail.  Broke Bench Mountain drank again for not making any sense.  No shock there!  Shiny Snail Trail was punished for snap chatting the whole trail.  Dung Fu Grip ratted out several hashers (Shiny Snail Trail, Diddler on the Roofie, Pink Cherry Licker, Puff the Magic Drag Queen and Ghetto Man), who were not paying attention and missed the beer near arrow and went past beer check.  Hash Lesson # 1:  Follow the TRAIL, not blindly follow other hashers!  Especially if it’s dBASED!   TIMMY!!! and Just Anne were punished for wearing racist shirts.

And last but not least, the Hare!  This trail was 4.5 miles according to my GPS.  Have fun scraping the bull shit off your shoes!

On On,

Shallow Hole

 

 

Shiny Hash #702

SCH3 Trash

We brought the shininess to The Parish last week in honor of Shiny Snail Trail’s birthday. Shallow Hole and Shiny Snail Trail were our sequin-spangled hares. Pink Cherry Licker brought body glitter for any hashers who didn’t bring their own glam. Cuff rubbed some under her eyes like a disco football player. Twat Did You Say? rubbed some all over her face, then Hugh Heifer rubbed her face on Twat’s face. In essence, Hugh pretty much swapped her hippie patchouli oil for Twat’s glitter. Diddler on the Roofie was wearing a silver shirt with colorful swirls that made him look just like a grease slick in a gutter–probably exactly where he’ll end up by the end of the night. Dung-Fu Grip looked like a superhero with his long golden gloves. Which hero? FABUBLING!! Puff was having technical dooficulties with his camera, so a few hounds grabbed their phones and took some snapshots of us shimmering in the sun outside. During the shoot, I noticed a pink jewel on the ground and picked it up for a closer look. It was someone’s belly ring. Ewwww!!! Dirty Dolmas came to the rescue with hand sanitizer.

When we hit trail, all eyes were on us and our hella flashy steez. We were cheered on by honks as we rolled down Mission St. We turned on Swift to Delaware and then cut through my office’s parking lot. Thank gawd my fucking workaholic office mates had finally left for the day and didn’t catch a glimpse of me in my gold hot pants. We sneaked through a fence opening into Derby Park. The skateboarding kids barely batted an eye while we scrounged around for trail marks. Trail took us along West Cliff, through Bethany Curve and to Garfield Park for beer check with spiked watermelon juice and chocolate chip cookies. Our little party must’ve looked innocent enough to the cop that cruised by while Thmp-Thmp rocked on the horsie and Hugh swung on the tire swing (while leering at the fresh young meat on the basketball court). Riding the slides looked fun, but we wondered if sparks would fly off our asses from our shiny pants.

Religion was in the back of Safeway, the place where Shiny was named. dBASED was RA and Hugh was Beer Fairy (I think). Banana Basher told an old timey story of hashes gone by. Hugh got a down down because she didn’t bring beer for the trough AND she didn’t pay hash cash. Pinky was very disappointed with our circle formation. As she did a down down we shaped up, so her twisted plan worked! Thmp and I drank for being shiniest. Just Shannon was named Electric Labialand, thanks to Brokebench Mountain plus her pink dildo taser flashlight. A security guard was trollin’ the lot, but luckily he passed on by. Ghettoman and his visitor had a swig. Dung-Fu chugged for wanting to go through the creek tunnel at Derby Park instead of through the fence. Finger Nips and I figured heck, a man’s got urges. dBASED was flamed for being totally DFL. He did A trail, just not OUR trail. And the hares…

On on on was back at Parish, but when you’re old and gotta work at 7am, ain’t nobody got time for that.

Next week is Beat Your Meat in Aptos at Butt Balls’ and Lil Anal Annie’s house. You can bring a side dish and something to throw on the ‘cue, but it would be super appreciated if you bring $$$ for Second Harvest Food Bank.

On Out,
Princess Di(arrhea)