Tag Archives: Hah Trash 708

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

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