In 1989 I printed around 52 Hash Trashes and was the scribe for a lot of runs. Since then, I think I’ve only written one. However a rant I wrote a couple years ago become the hash trash, so I guess I’ve really written 2. Back in 1989, the modus operandi was the hares recruited the scribe, who then presented their work to me in sort of fashion which I then had to transform to paper. In a years worth of work, I only had 1 scribe who ever missed their deadline. That one scribe was a routine contributor who’s life just happened to get in the way one week. Her hash name was Doggie Style. So, even though I was on a different side of the country for that particular hash, I wrote the hash trash. As I recall, every third sentence was “Fuck you Doggie Style!”. We had a semi-complicated system back then where if you didn’t show up to the hash the hash trash got sent to you via US Mail. The person responsible for sending out the US Mail tore off the cover page because she wouldn’t mail pornography. Oh the days!
This scribing effort started in Nicaragua where I spent 10 days with the wonderful Occasional Rapist, but only got to sleep in the same bed with her twice. I’m sure this must have effected my brain when I agreed to this task. She stated that her co-hash scribe was probably too over-worked and needed a night off from scribing. However, on this night I think Shallow Hole thought she was the Wicked Witch of the West and was afraid a little water might make her melt. Then, I return home and find that Puff has penned the last hash trash. This means Shallow Hole had managed to do some writing only once in the previous 3 week. Oh the agony!
I wanted to write that the morning of hash 614 started as a dark stormy. However, it didn’t. There was a beautiful sunrise. However, I knew the day would change, and it did. As the day progressed it got dark and darker and later in day I didn’t see rain, but I saw that the ground was wet. I imagined only the true Hashers, plus Puff, would show up on this dark and stormy night. I had thought Banana Basher was a true Hasher. However, on this night, even a few rain drops seems to have scared him away. Let’s see, if the weather holds up, perhaps I can pass him in the Hash count in nearly 3 years.
As I arrived to Hash I saw Occasional Rapist, Cuff my Muff and Zip’er Lips in the parking lot in some sort of bitch brawl. I heard Occasional Rapist exclaim “Oh the Drama!”. I never did hear what this was all about. Then Occasional Rapist and Cuff my Muff set out on trail, while Zip’er lips went to the bar to have a smoke and talk to Six of Nine. 
Speaking of Six of Nine, he actually paid for the Hash again. I guess my rants against him not paying have finally paid off. On this night it seems Hugh Heffer was his keeper, as she later in the evening explained how she had no money because she was taking care of Six. How well did she take care of him? Hugh said he was due to fix a fan and replace her windshield wipers. Did he provide Miss Hugh other favors in return for her patronage as well?
As I entered JJ’s I got to meet our newest Hasher – Just Kim. Now attending her third Hash in a row. She even wants to do the Can’d Monterey Hash Red Dress in February. She has potential.
Earlier in the week Occasional Rapist had asked me if Hashing in Blue Balls park at night would work. Were there locked fences we could not penetrate? I promised not to let on about her inquiry, but I was pretty sure that was our destination.
As we headed towards circle-up and I informed Puff his services as hash scribe would not be need this evening, he asked if I could be the Hash Flash as well. It seems the batteries on his camera had died. However, I did see Puff carry his camera on trail. 
Is it his security blanket? Or, did he think he might need to use it as a weapon if he encountered some undesirables in the wilds of Soquel?
After circle-up we headed East on Soquel to a check at Main St. I decided to play the game and checked to the right, even though I strongly suspected we were going the other way. After 2 marks and nothing (Hares: Please lay a false!), I found the trail the other way. Going this direction, there is only 1 logical way to Blue Balls park. That’s the locals only foot bridge across the mighty Soquel Creek up ahead to the left. There was a check just before it and I figured correctly it had to cross bridge. Once across the bridge, I waited to take a picture of the next Hasher to cross the bridge, 
then said goodbye to the pack.
At this point the draw to Blue Balls park was strong. Trail apparently went left, then right on Old Jose Rd. However, I turned right and found trail in front of Soquel High. At the check 
there I went to Blue Balls park 
and found markings.
Speaking of tonight’s markings, there appeared to be some sort of reddish pigment 
in tonight’s markings. In the past, Occasional Rapist has used brown flour. I guess she has changed her ways.
Trail proceeded through the parking lot of Blue Balls park and through the scary locked gates 
I had informed Occasional Rapist about previously in the week. For me, trail disappeared at the end of the parking lot. I searched up a bit 
and found nothing. Apparently, there was a YBF there. I then decided to loop left. With the idea if the trail did indeed go up, it would need to come down and I could intercept it. If it didn’t go that way, I would head to Soquel High and find it there. On my first step into the High School I found trail, running along the edge of it. The pack was now far off into the distance.
There are only two ways out of Soquel High. One would require the hares back tracking on their trail. The other was the exit near Soquel Dr. and Daubenbis Ave. 
So, I headed to this exit, loosing trail for a short while. I found a BN mark 
and Occasional Rapist vehicle 
by the Lighthouse church as I expected, but no hares! How is it the trail was here, but the hares were not here yet. I wonder … Cuff My Muff has been caught pre-laying before. Did she do it again? Occasional Rapist would later neither confirm or deny my accusation.
I could see the beer inside her vehicle. A check of all entrances found a side window 
apparently accidentally unlocked. The beer cooler was filled mostly with chick drinks (of which My Lil Bony found most attractive) and cheap beer, but I was able to secure a real beer in a Longboard. The pack arrived about 10 minutes later.
Apparently, there had been a rum check at some edge of the school which I just missed. I hares accused me of running by the wrong way, I assume my trail map will prove vindication.
As we took the long journey from beer check to religion, Miss Hugh Heffer was determined to turn right on Soquel Dr. It took strong persuasion to convince her she had somehow confused my old house with Religion.
Now, on to religion and we noticed something has changed since we had religion here last. There used to be a building which somewhat helped hide our festivities and now there is green grass.
The most notable down-down was Puff for 600 Hashes. 
He even got a patch. He can put it on his girl scout sash with all his other merit badges. I was congratulated for 475, 
but just like 469, I received no patch. However, no one even noticed 469. I guess that’s because it was AGM night. I also got a down-down for potentially running the wrong way through the rum check and missing it. Although she already has a name, Deep Stroke 
was rewarded for 5 hashes with the Surf City Hash. A few others were rewarded for something special as well, but all can remember were the hares.
Since no has signed up for next week’s Hash, Timmy said he would be be the hare next week. He said to expect a West Santa Cruz meet-up. Probably Santa Cruz Mountain Brewery.
After that our RA for the evening of Vince Lamblowme 
encouraged the small entourage to go home and get a piece. And I did. And there was much rejoicing.
