Howdey Hasher’s, I’m here to rehash the last hash #639. We started at The bar next door in SV. We had an oldtimer hasher Viagra Falls (10 years of no sch3 hashes) join us, as well as backslider’s Too drunk to fuck and his co-hort,  Get up and run ..bitch.  We also had some hasher family of dBASED, join in the fun, Little Spit, Hott Wheels and their cousin Virgin Jason.  I’m sure you can remember it was a very wet Thursday for most of us whom braved the “Tunnel” of hell. Hares dBASED and Shallow Hole drove us there, under Highway 17. I had Nipple butt with me following the trail of the pack, I nearly had to drag him a few feet. I waited until everyone went threw the tunnel as I think the noise scared him more then the water level and the darkness. Being the brave Boxer hasher dog he is though we made it threw.  Trail wasn’t long, but it did drag us threw some interesting terrain, mostly uphill asphalt, and shiggy filled with plenty of PO. I enjoyed seeing a very old barn on trail which I believe is old remnants of the Santa’s Village, that I never really remembering going too as a kid. I wasn’t DFL but a few of us did make it to beer check finally where we found the rest of the pack sucking down all the beer. We we’re all happy to get to the end because we all knew what we had in store, Food, and plenty of it.  We sang stupid songs again and made fun of our beer fairy Twat did you say. Puff got his #625 analversary, hares got down downs for getting us all “wet”,  Viagra falls for being a ten year backslider!, and all the old farts of this hash whom we’re >60 years old,  something about virgin Jason and baby penquins?,  and the fucking hares! Waxi pad didn’t run trail, he drove the Pussy wagon for most pussy’s, and he BBQ’d some of the best burger’s I think I’ve ever tasted! Everyone should be applauded for our feast this night as it was a shared adventure. Kudos to the hostess/ host for their pad.

On and On into tonight’s bash hash at JJ’s

cheery o

Occasional Rapist:)

Hi! Her Royal Diarrheaness here with the weekly trash. It was Twat Did You Say’s? first haring foray ever and Deep Stroke’s first haring for Surf City. We met up at Callahan’s. The place is teeming with big game taxidermy. It’s enough to vaguely make you wonder where the stuffed former patrons are kept. We almost brought in another specimen for the collection when Thmp-Thmp nearly hit a kamikaze dog front of the Grog Shop on the way. Good thing Thmp brakes for more than just squirrels. Lube Me Up Scotty re-joined our kennel to put himself back in harm’s way after a two-year break.

At circle up it became obvious that Dude, Where’s My Trail? will never get his own name right.http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0242423 Learn it, know it, live it, Dude. The pack was soon off and in all directions until we heard a whistle blowing across the street at 550 Water St. Trail followed along the ceee-ment river there. I called it a “water channel” and Puff called it Branciforte Creek. Whatever, nature boy! The bum wine—actually bum vodka—check was just past the ruins of a scroungy campsite along the crick. Trail crossed the crick at Ocean St. I caught up to Cuff My Muff who kindly informed me I was DFL. I was also DFL at last week’s bum wine check and caught hell for leaving that bum wine behind. In a moment of idiocy, I turned around to snag that craptastic vodka and quickly got back on my way. I was soon heading up Soquel Ave. and passing a marked short driveway YBF diversion across from Shopper’s Corner that must’ve discouraged no one. It was then on left through a long stretch of Branciforte. I was clutching that sack of shitty vodka and carrying it with TLC that should be strictly reserved for finer libations. To help cut down on the heaviness and sloshing, I caught up to Scotty and begged him to take some swigs (see—I told you he was putting himself in harm’s way) but Scotty wasn’t having any of it. I had to breakaway and forge ahead to find willing takers. If not, who knows how many miles I would have to jog with this heavy-ass load of turpentine?

At the busy corner of Branciforte and Water, I couldn’t find any markings and had to find my own way. I made a good guess with on right and caught up with Cuff and AccuPrick near Tacos Moreno. A left turn there led us to B-40 Middle School and down Poplar St. I pulled another breakaway to go find the pack. It was on left at Fairmount Ave. and into the neighborhood of Linden St. Luckily, most of the trail had been marked by the pack ahead, however a check was not kicked on Linden St. and I was all alone. When I finally figured out trail went downhill on Berkeley Way, so did my morale. I was busting my bumcakes to herd myself ahead to re-join the pack that must’ve been hauling ass. (I later heard Just Lori was running Nipple Butt so hard he barfed.)

It was on right at Market St. I wandered around looking for pink flour for too long when I should’ve just let the elbow of Market St. point me in the right direction down Washburn St. Conflicting trail markings had me dumbfounded at the corner of Ocean St. where walkers Cuff and Accu caught up to me and led the way to beer check across Ocean on Blaine St.

Homemade cookies and Kirkland beer were served at beer check at Twat Did You Say?’s house (you can call her T-Dub). Fancy imported beer was offered, too. It came all the way from Mexico. At least there was plenty waiting as I came tardy for the party with my big bag o’ bum vodka in tow. I was glad I’d delivered it back to the pack, for a reason you will soon read about (why are your still reading?).

Religion was back at 550 Water. RA Accu was present but on vacation, so he was also on his worst behavior. Just Lori and T-Dub made elegant Beer Fairies.  Backsliders Scotty and Goat Blower were the first to be flogged. Goat Blower’s excuse for abandoning the pack was pretty much, “so many goats, so little time.”  Thmp-Thmp ratted out Slow Nad for not being punished last week for backsliding so they both drank. Thmp for being a rat and Nad for his slow tendencies. Yeah, he may be fast on his feet, but he’s a little slow in the head.

Dog Breath and Hugh Heifer did a mouth-to-mouth vodka shot for some interspecies guzzling at the bum wine check. They reenacted this beveragal bestiality for the pack. Hugh was celebrated for her 225^th analversary and for having no life whatsoever to show for it. Habitual trail pissers Cuff, Deep Stroke and Accu got their fluids replaced. Accu asked for a “witless” to any trail fails. dBASED had tripped on a speed bump and therefore took a warm beer shower. “If it doesn’t go on your lips, it goes on your head!” Hugh adjourned religion with “KIRKLAND BEER SUCKS!” to which Thmp retorted “BUT SO DOES NA!” Take that, O Mighty Beer Mistress who’s been known to serve near beer!

On On On was at MexItalian. We were welcomed warmly with chianti, Sinatra, and the Giants game. Ah… la dolce vida loca. The music made Timmy!!! reminisce about listening to the Rat Pack when the songs were new. That was way back in the days when he used to be trusted with a martini glass. T-Dub was flirting with the waiter and made it clear that she wanted to taste his VERY spicy burrito. I gotta admit that I also wanted a taste of his spumoni. AccuPrick claims to eat like a man with two assholes, so he was hungry enough to taste everything on his menu.

Next week we’ll be meeting at Next Door in Scotts Valley. Trail will be A -> B and transport will be provided. Religion will be at Shallow Hole and Waxi Pad’s casa. There’s gonna be a BBQ, so please plan to bring something to share. Oh, and bring an extra pair of shoes and socks. You probably won’t have to share those.

“A hasher never turns back.” Words to live by, kids. Lesson learned at hash 638. NEVER TURN BACK, ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU REALIZE YOU ARE DFL AND JUST BAILED ON THE BUM WINE. Take my word for it—bum wine is always best left for the bums.

Greetings! Princess Diarrhea here proclaiming tales from the trail throughout the land! Somewhat unbefitting a princess, the hashers met up in the alley this week—Moe’s Alley to be exact. The hash hasn’t been to Moe’s for quite awhile, and we still can’t figure out why they seemed happy to have us back. Apparently we left a good impression so we must be doing something horribly wrong.  Thmp-Thmp and Hairy Potter were our wily hares. It was a sign of things to come when Hairy told us his wise wife Choka Cola stayed home because she’d caught a peek of the trail map and declared, “fuck THAT!”

It all started with a true trail arrow and mercifully there were more of those to come. The pack went on left out of Moe’s, quickly sniffed out trail and headed down Soquel Drive toward just past 7^TH Avenue. Back check! The pack soon rallied and thrusted through Harbor High’s rear entrance. Up ahead on La Fonda, a YBF to the right and a false trail to the left soon got the pack regrouped and headed the right way down Prospect Heights. Most of the loyal hounds stuck to the trail and braved the steep downhill shiggy that Cuff My Muff rode on her bum all the way down to the bum wine check. Sly dogs like Broke Bench Mountain took the nicely paved one-way Brookwood instead (which is also one of the town’s best-kept secrets for ditching freeway traffic).

The poison selection at the booze check was Mad Dog 20/20 Banana Red or Orange Jubilee. Sounds delicious, no? AccuPrick did not partake because he’s too good for bum wine.  He’s also too good for fine wine. Yes, he is THAT good. Cuff turned down the Orange Jubilee because of the hurl factor that comes from beverages that closely resemble Triaminic cough syrup. All it takes is a little Mad Dog to separate the purebreds from the mutts. The trail wound along to more fruitiness as Hugh Heifer started picking sour cherries that she discovered growing in the wild. All we needed was a platter of Velveeta and it would’ve been like hors d’oeuvre hour on skid row.

Soon we were traipsing through Oakwood Cemetery, which is all too conveniently located across the street from a hospital and a nice old folks home. dBased was shut down by a YBF after emerging from the graveyard and broke strict tradition of “a hasher never turns around”—a heinous crime surely punishable by a warm beer shower. Trail then headed through Dominican Oaks where tiny dogs yipped and seniors gawked as the hashers pounded onward and upward through the hillside shiggy. Once across a field, the only thing separating thirsty hashers from cold beer was a burly cyclone fence. Luckily there was indeed a gate that opened to glory. Beer check was in Virgin Lori’s front yard where we were joined by her family and two snuffling pugs. The beer was going down great until a certain member of the kennel befouled the yard, causing everyone to gag on their cold ones and clear out.

The great tragedy of religion behind Bobby’s Pit Stop was that somehow the bum wine had been left behind at the check so nobody could be punished to finish it. Pixelated Obscenity was penalized for backsliding. Dog Breath was awarded for his 169^th analversary! Pixie’s friend Beautiful Rainbow couldn’t fathom why Dog Breath wasn’t drinking from a readily available cup and was instead guzzling from a dog bowl. Hey, at least he wasn’t drinking from a toilet bowl (this time). RA AccuPrick and the hash agreed that “Beautiful Rainbow” was an entirely unacceptable name and she was re-christened Two Dingos Fucking. Nipple Butt wagged his nub with approval. Waxi Pad, Two Dingos Fucking and Pixie then down downed for shortcutting by bee lining it back to Moe’s and getting drunker than the rest of us. Virgin Lori was welcomed to the pack. Instead of showing her lady bits as totally expected (oh yes, I know her well), she told a joke but her so-called friend Slow Nad spoiled the punch line. She still refused give up a peek of the goodies. Dog Breath took a picture of Beer Fairy Cuff marking her territory so they were both disciplined with a tag-team dog bowl down down.

Next week’s meet up is at Callahan’s. Twat Did You Say?’s hare cherry will be popped. She’s hella nervous about it, so please be gentle with her. Deep Stroke will be co-haring to help ensure her first time will be special.  Aww…

On out!

Our Hares, Occasional Rapist and Cuff my Muff, chose the Mediterranean in Aptos as the start for this week’s hash.  Hairy Fuck 2.5 returned, after being on the DL with a broken foot.  Just Rosie showed up for her 5^th hash.  We had 2 visitors join us all the way from the swamps of Savannah, Georgia H3!   Squat and Swallow, and Sleeping with the Enema.  Theirs is another hash love story.  They met online, hashed together in Savannah, and just got engaged in NYC.  Squat and Swallow was sporting his Hare T-shirt from Savannah’s Americas Interhash 2011.  dBASED, Occasional Rapist and I were lucky enough to have been there.  After a few beers, we realized that the lovely lady in a white southern bell dress and parasol that escorted me to my car one night was Squat and Swallow!  LOL.

There was some confusion at the start.  The pack got split up and went in 2 different directions.  And then there was dBASED.  Who the hell knows where he went.  There was flour at the corner of State Park Drive, so Just Rosie, Dog Breath, Hugh Heifer and Nipple Butt, Puff the Magic Drag Queen, Deep Stroke and yours truly, went in that direction.  The trail went past the Snow White Drive In and turned left on Hillcrest Drive following the railroad tracks and meandered around Seacliff neighborhoods and ended up with beer check on a dead end street overlooking the ocean and the cement ship.    Along with beer, there was also wine, crackers and dip.  dBASED never showed up at beer check.  It was a short trail.  I barely broke a sweat.  Just Rosie ran back to Religion on the beach because she wasn’t tired.  I have to agree with her.  We ARE a bunch of pussies in Surf City. 

Religion was on the street in back of the Mediterranean.  Occasional Rapist served up a kick ass homemade red velvet cake with strawberries.  Yum!  Hairy Fuck 2.5 was RA, Dog Breath was his lovely Beer Fairy.  Apparently I, Shallow Hole, completed 69.69% of the hashes this year, and received a patch for completing my 50^th Surf City Hash.   Down downs were dished out for back sliders, Dude where’s my Trail? and Just Rosie.   Visitors, Squat and Swallow and Sleeping with the Enema were called up to the altar.  They thought the trail was boring.  They’re used to monster shiggy in Savannah, like wading thigh high through swamps with alligators, swimming across intercostal waterways, running through picker bushes, and naked full moon hashes.  Sleeping with the Enema delighted the pack by flashing her boobs.  dBASED was chastised for getting lost on trail.  He claimed to be trying to catch the hares.  He guessed wrong!  Hugh Heifer was punished for an ancient crime on trail.  A long time ago, she brought NA beer for Religion.  The pack sang a lovely rendition of Happy Birthday to Occasional Rapist.  Just Rosie was up for naming.  A lot of dirt was dished out, and she was more than happy to keep incriminating herself.  After a bit of deliberation, Just Rosie will be forever known as Cum Rash! 

And last but not least, the hares……………

On On,

Shallow Hole