09 17 1356
Hash Hotline: (562) HASHITT
September 23, 2009
Hash Website: www.lbh3.org
POOP FICTION: BEYOND THE FLESH: PARKING LOT PERVERTS AND THE CHILD LOVE CULT It is only fitting that we begin tonight’s soiled soliloquy in a parking lot. Parking lots are the last frontiers in suburban America. By day, they are filled with customers ready to be fleeced by the Chinese retail empire, but by night, the mask comes off and the true face of humanity is revealed. By day, the lots are filled with shoppers, but by nightfall, the lots become magnets for all the perversions that wilt by the light of day. Dope gets sold, beer gets drunk, and parked cars shake like hypothermic rats as backseat lovers pump away in clandestine, nocturnal bliss. By first morning’s light, the actors in this shameful drama are gone, but the souvenirs: the beer bottles, soiled clothing, and condoms remain. (Sounds like ANY morning after a Long Beach Hash.) So we begin tonight’s adventure as we frequently do, trespassing and publicly intoxicated for the umpteenth time, waiting for the fun to begin. As the six o’clock hour approached, the most disgusting perverts to ever put on a pair of cumstained Speedos converged on the Target parking lot to take up their positions. Like duck hunters in a blind, they waited for their prey, whose sweet estrogenic flesh scents the air like a spring flower. BROOMHILDA, PHALLUS IN PORNOLAND, ALOUETTE, FREE SAMPLES, JANE FONDLE, ALWAYS JUICY, SUCKIT WENCH, MICRO and PRINCESS OF INCEST would be no match for the aging cocksmen and their deceitful web of lies, come-ons and trickery. By 6:30, there were enough sex offenders in the parking lot to trigger a nationwide Amber Alert. While IGGY and WYNONNA gave their pre-run instructions, every wanking sexophile in the hash riveted their animalistic eyes on the lovely WYNONNA.
Date: Location: Miles: Hares: Attendance: New Boots: Visitors: Returners:
New Name: Patches: Hashitt: On-On: Run Notes:
RESULTS OF LBH3 Run #1356 September 17, 2009 Long Beach, Atlantic & 33rd behind Target 5.6 IGNORANT FUCK & WYONNA JUGGS 107 Kevin Critchlow, Jake Edwards, Dana Buchalter, Corrie Maggay, Kimiko Martinez, Randy Perl (Woody in His Ass),Chad Willis, Jake Edwards JUST LAID from Orlando H3, MUTT from Saipan, HIGGINS from Belgium BETTER HUNG THAN BUG, MICRO, SID, ENTERTAINMENT UNIT, SNOWBLOWER, HITTER IN THE SHITTER, Lillian Kotlarski, DR. FEELS MY GOOD, Iriahel Cardoza Randy Perl is now WOODY IN HIS ASS CALAMINE CRACK = 50, IGNORANT – 15 hare patch LAST TRAIN for not stealing the 8’ Jack Daniels from the Colorado Interhash Wardlow Station at Orange/Wardlow Pedo-file Hash. Pipeline over 405, subdivisions, RR tracks, Bixby Park, Ped Crossing over RR tracks, riverbed, big apartment complex, streets. Cluster fuck at Wardlow and Orange. On In at Iggy’s House by Target.
Somewhere in their sticky-fingered fantasies, they thought that if they caught her, she would make all of their sex-tape, dial-a-porn dreams come true. By now, every harriette in the place looked very nervous. With WYNONNA on trail, the sharks turned their attention to them. When FRUIT’s whistle blew, they ran like hell toward the trail, trying to get away from the lecherous dogs that chased them like a pack of panting, salivating hyenas. With the harriettes leading the way, I rounded the first turn into the Home Depot parking lot with WILD BILL, WRECTIM, SAY WHAT, KOWPADDY, BOY GEORGE, HOWDY, MAXWELL STUPID, CHINBALL WIZARD, YULL JACKOFF, CALAMINE CRACK, BUSTER and NANCY QUEER. Our “standing” army hauled ass through the back alley of the Home Depot until we reached Atlantic where we stopped to proposition a group of French schoolgirls on holiday. After we got a serious sweater-whipping from the girls, we limped across the avenue as fast as the bulges in our pants would let us, and we followed trail til we arrive at the jello shot check that was in the parking lot of a church. At the church, we licked, slurped and sucked the joyous jello out of the sweet little containers like it was a schoolgirl’s honey pot. As I let out an orgasmic belch that would have embarrassed a dog, I looked to the sky above, to the large neon cross atop the church. I the fading light, and mesmerized by the hallucinatory properties of beer, the cross looked like a giant, gleaming sword. Was this God’s punishment about to rain down upon us for our sin and perversion? Summoning all of our preservatory energies, we shot out of the parking lot faster than the toxic, yellow sludge from a can of Cheez-Wiz. We luckily found trail that led us past a park and into a condom-minium complex. While running through the faceless maze of houses, I was confronted by a 300-pound woman wearing hair curlers and a white bathrobe that made her look like a real-life Michelin Man. “Who are you people, and what are you doing here?” she bellowed. This was my moment, the moment that every pervert dreams of. I ripped open my raincoat, revealing my seminude body and yelled, “We are the Long Beach Flash!” Her face tuned as white as her bathrobe as she spun dizzily out of the way and into the bushes screaming, “Oh God Stanley, perverts! Perverts! Call the police!” Not wanting to be at the point of impact when the cops arrived, we wisely hauled ass until we found trail that led to beer check number three. I don’t know if the cops raided the condo complex or not, but one thing’s for sure, I got my wings for that one.
After the check, I was now in the fast company of LAST TRAIN, Just JONES, CAPTAIN HOOK, BIG BOOBS, PACK MY CHUTE, TWATWEILER, STUMBELINA, HE’S SO SWEET, PLAID COW and POOR PIECE OF SHIT. We hauled ass through a darkened neighborhood, loaded on the dope of perversion until we reached BC #4 at a nondescript hell-hole of a bar where dangerous losers lined the room like urine-stained wallpaper. Not wanting to be mistaken for easy meat, we sped through the room like a Vaseline slathered thunderbolt and out the front door where we found trail that led through another neighborhood and to the … On-In? Here, on the corner of Orange and Wardlow, next to a gas station and an alley, was the on-in, lit up like a Hollywood movie premiere that just begged to be run out of town by the cops, which is exactly what happened! IGGY frantically ran through the crowd, yelling “Meet me back at my house!” The cops, thinking that he was really telling us to meet at Mi Casa, a Mexican restaurant across town, code-foured it through every red light in town bringing with them 12 more units, four fire trucks and two ambulances. When they got to Mi Casa, they proceeded to beat the frijoles out of everyone in the building, yelling, “Got you now, you flash happy, tourist molesting creeps! The only flashing you’re going to be doing now is at the tour busses that drive by San Quentin!” As the sirens wailed in the distance, back at IGGY and WYNONNA’s house, we conducted our weekly display of narcissism/exhibitionism as we always do; with one hand on a beer and the other one on somebody else’s body parts. Thanks IGGY and WYNONNA for a great night on the town. Being a dirt bag of an old man was never this much fun! Disturbingly yours, Dr. HUNTER S. SUPERSCAR
LBH3 Pricing Weekly Run $5 Boredmember $3 Punchcard $50 Boredmember Punch $39 Quarterly Dues $39 Yearly Dues $156 If you want to get on annual or quarterly dues or purchase a punchcard, please see the Hash Cash.
Receding Hareline 10/4 1359 Happy Feet & Got Milk – Wedding Run 10/11 1360 Pillsbury Blow Boy – LB Marathon 1 pm 10/18 1361 Sin-D-Bare - Los Angeles 10/25 1362 Broomhilda, JCSS – Halloween Run 11/1 1363 Pig Iron 11/8 1364 Dickoreater 11/15 1365Hozer – Birthday Run
Gossip, Write-ups, Pictures, Hash Directions and other tidbits MUST BE RECEIVED by Sunday at 7 p.m. Otherwise, it will not appear in the Snooze! E-mail to: [email protected]. REHASH: THIS DATE IN HASH HISTORY Run # 797 Date: 9/30/1999 (10 years ago) Place: Signal Hill Hares: RIFF RAFF & ON WHAT Miles: 5 Attendance: 106 It was a hot and balmy night as a huge contingent of hashers gathered in front of the Wine Country store in Signal Hill for the last Thursday night run of this hashing season. We had been advised to wear our fanciest Hawaiian shirts and most complied as we had been bribed with the promise of bottles of fine wine for the most resplendent island attire. Yes, the wine and champagne would be flowing, but at the expense of a lack of beer. So, we headed toward the hill and SCREW CAP went down almost immediately with a pulled muscle, He limped back to the start and the rest of us went UP. PSYCHO BITCH was the second hasher to receive an injury as she twisted her ankle. She was helped back to the start to join SCREW CAP. Soon we reached the champagne check (no beer), followed closely by a water check (no beer). Trail led to the driving range, over a fence and back uphill to another check with chardonnay – but no beer! WILD BILL led us onward to the fourth liquid refreshment check that featured red wine – and no beer! The on-in trail led us back to our cars. Hashers were glad to see the beer van and finally get a cold frosty one. 8 YELLOW SNOW and HI SPEED presided at down-downs that included the introduction of 8 new boots, a big batch of returners, the awarding of the bottles of wine for best Hawaiian attire and a special bottle of wine for the hashit, MOAN N’ FUCKER for saying “yes” to FUNGUS. The on-on was at Curley’s. (Note to ALWAYS JUICY: Don’t you wish you had started hashing sooner? See what you missed!)
Mismanagement Committee 2009 Grandmasters: Eddie “Pinky” Scott (714) 756-BYOB Joel “Sin-A-Bun” (310) 544-5223 Hash Cash: Laura “Hi Speed Copulator” Gaber (562) 822-8400 Allison “Phallus in Porno Land” Stokka [email protected] On Sec: JoAnn “6-9 Split” Levandoski (562) 858-6511 Bonnie “Tweedle Me” Gleeson (562) 596-4368 Email to: [email protected] On Disk: Neva “Alouette” Higgins (714) 526-7823 Victoria “Geezer Teaser” Rivera (714) 965-2062 Brewmeisters: Bill “Last Train to Cuntsville” Nord (714) SLIME-UP Marz “Veteran of 4N Whores” Gamboa (626) 488-8076 Munchmeisters: Suzanne “Broomhilda” Gilmore (562) 423-6149 Kurt “Nice Hair Fag” Hesse (949) 294-3773 Trailmaster: Ed “Mr. Rats Ass” Guerrero (562) 556-0282 Haberdashery: Dick “Poor Aim” Ames (714) 734-6979 Marcia “Take A #” Chaney (562) 902-9126 Songmeister: Debbie “Corn Hole Hussie” Cantril (562) 400-1099 Hash Flash: Ed “Scratch N Sniff” Feng (714) 943-1360 Jessica “Snatch of the Day” Alexander (562) 761-8289 Webmeister-Snooze: Pillsbury Blow Boy – [email protected] Webmeister-General: HomoSaxual – [email protected]
SHITTY TRAIL Run: 1358, October 1st, 6:30 p.m. Hares: Last Train To Cuntsville Location: Buckingham Park, Westminster From the north or south take the 405 to Westminster Ave. When you GET OFF, go east (away from the big blue thing) and turn right at Edwards. Go about a mile and Buckingham Park will be on your left. That's where the fuckin' start is. Park the living shit out your car. Note to GM's; There are very threatening signs saying " Park must be vacated by 9pm." Don't worry, trail is A to A' and the On On is close by. I hope you like to clime fences! This is the last Thursday Night trail. That's about the only significant thing about this particular Hash.
Alouette Neva Higgins 707 Nancy Lane Fullerton, CA 92831
September 23, 2009
Hash Website: www.lbh3.org
POOP FICTION: BEYOND THE FLESH: PARKING LOT PERVERTS AND THE CHILD LOVE CULT It is only fitting that we begin tonight’s soiled soliloquy in a parking lot. Parking lots are the last frontiers in suburban America. By day, they are filled with customers ready to be fleeced by the Chinese retail empire, but by night, the mask comes off and the true face of humanity is revealed. By day, the lots are filled with shoppers, but by nightfall, the lots become magnets for all the perversions that wilt by the light of day. Dope gets sold, beer gets drunk, and parked cars shake like hypothermic rats as backseat lovers pump away in clandestine, nocturnal bliss. By first morning’s light, the actors in this shameful drama are gone, but the souvenirs: the beer bottles, soiled clothing, and condoms remain. (Sounds like ANY morning after a Long Beach Hash.) So we begin tonight’s adventure as we frequently do, trespassing and publicly intoxicated for the umpteenth time, waiting for the fun to begin. As the six o’clock hour approached, the most disgusting perverts to ever put on a pair of cumstained Speedos converged on the Target parking lot to take up their positions. Like duck hunters in a blind, they waited for their prey, whose sweet estrogenic flesh scents the air like a spring flower. BROOMHILDA, PHALLUS IN PORNOLAND, ALOUETTE, FREE SAMPLES, JANE FONDLE, ALWAYS JUICY, SUCKIT WENCH, MICRO and PRINCESS OF INCEST would be no match for the aging cocksmen and their deceitful web of lies, come-ons and trickery. By 6:30, there were enough sex offenders in the parking lot to trigger a nationwide Amber Alert. While IGGY and WYNONNA gave their pre-run instructions, every wanking sexophile in the hash riveted their animalistic eyes on the lovely WYNONNA.
Date: Location: Miles: Hares: Attendance: New Boots: Visitors: Returners:
New Name: Patches: Hashitt: On-On: Run Notes:
RESULTS OF LBH3 Run #1356 September 17, 2009 Long Beach, Atlantic & 33rd behind Target 5.6 IGNORANT FUCK & WYONNA JUGGS 107 Kevin Critchlow, Jake Edwards, Dana Buchalter, Corrie Maggay, Kimiko Martinez, Randy Perl (Woody in His Ass),Chad Willis, Jake Edwards JUST LAID from Orlando H3, MUTT from Saipan, HIGGINS from Belgium BETTER HUNG THAN BUG, MICRO, SID, ENTERTAINMENT UNIT, SNOWBLOWER, HITTER IN THE SHITTER, Lillian Kotlarski, DR. FEELS MY GOOD, Iriahel Cardoza Randy Perl is now WOODY IN HIS ASS CALAMINE CRACK = 50, IGNORANT – 15 hare patch LAST TRAIN for not stealing the 8’ Jack Daniels from the Colorado Interhash Wardlow Station at Orange/Wardlow Pedo-file Hash. Pipeline over 405, subdivisions, RR tracks, Bixby Park, Ped Crossing over RR tracks, riverbed, big apartment complex, streets. Cluster fuck at Wardlow and Orange. On In at Iggy’s House by Target.
Somewhere in their sticky-fingered fantasies, they thought that if they caught her, she would make all of their sex-tape, dial-a-porn dreams come true. By now, every harriette in the place looked very nervous. With WYNONNA on trail, the sharks turned their attention to them. When FRUIT’s whistle blew, they ran like hell toward the trail, trying to get away from the lecherous dogs that chased them like a pack of panting, salivating hyenas. With the harriettes leading the way, I rounded the first turn into the Home Depot parking lot with WILD BILL, WRECTIM, SAY WHAT, KOWPADDY, BOY GEORGE, HOWDY, MAXWELL STUPID, CHINBALL WIZARD, YULL JACKOFF, CALAMINE CRACK, BUSTER and NANCY QUEER. Our “standing” army hauled ass through the back alley of the Home Depot until we reached Atlantic where we stopped to proposition a group of French schoolgirls on holiday. After we got a serious sweater-whipping from the girls, we limped across the avenue as fast as the bulges in our pants would let us, and we followed trail til we arrive at the jello shot check that was in the parking lot of a church. At the church, we licked, slurped and sucked the joyous jello out of the sweet little containers like it was a schoolgirl’s honey pot. As I let out an orgasmic belch that would have embarrassed a dog, I looked to the sky above, to the large neon cross atop the church. I the fading light, and mesmerized by the hallucinatory properties of beer, the cross looked like a giant, gleaming sword. Was this God’s punishment about to rain down upon us for our sin and perversion? Summoning all of our preservatory energies, we shot out of the parking lot faster than the toxic, yellow sludge from a can of Cheez-Wiz. We luckily found trail that led us past a park and into a condom-minium complex. While running through the faceless maze of houses, I was confronted by a 300-pound woman wearing hair curlers and a white bathrobe that made her look like a real-life Michelin Man. “Who are you people, and what are you doing here?” she bellowed. This was my moment, the moment that every pervert dreams of. I ripped open my raincoat, revealing my seminude body and yelled, “We are the Long Beach Flash!” Her face tuned as white as her bathrobe as she spun dizzily out of the way and into the bushes screaming, “Oh God Stanley, perverts! Perverts! Call the police!” Not wanting to be at the point of impact when the cops arrived, we wisely hauled ass until we found trail that led to beer check number three. I don’t know if the cops raided the condo complex or not, but one thing’s for sure, I got my wings for that one.
After the check, I was now in the fast company of LAST TRAIN, Just JONES, CAPTAIN HOOK, BIG BOOBS, PACK MY CHUTE, TWATWEILER, STUMBELINA, HE’S SO SWEET, PLAID COW and POOR PIECE OF SHIT. We hauled ass through a darkened neighborhood, loaded on the dope of perversion until we reached BC #4 at a nondescript hell-hole of a bar where dangerous losers lined the room like urine-stained wallpaper. Not wanting to be mistaken for easy meat, we sped through the room like a Vaseline slathered thunderbolt and out the front door where we found trail that led through another neighborhood and to the … On-In? Here, on the corner of Orange and Wardlow, next to a gas station and an alley, was the on-in, lit up like a Hollywood movie premiere that just begged to be run out of town by the cops, which is exactly what happened! IGGY frantically ran through the crowd, yelling “Meet me back at my house!” The cops, thinking that he was really telling us to meet at Mi Casa, a Mexican restaurant across town, code-foured it through every red light in town bringing with them 12 more units, four fire trucks and two ambulances. When they got to Mi Casa, they proceeded to beat the frijoles out of everyone in the building, yelling, “Got you now, you flash happy, tourist molesting creeps! The only flashing you’re going to be doing now is at the tour busses that drive by San Quentin!” As the sirens wailed in the distance, back at IGGY and WYNONNA’s house, we conducted our weekly display of narcissism/exhibitionism as we always do; with one hand on a beer and the other one on somebody else’s body parts. Thanks IGGY and WYNONNA for a great night on the town. Being a dirt bag of an old man was never this much fun! Disturbingly yours, Dr. HUNTER S. SUPERSCAR
LBH3 Pricing Weekly Run $5 Boredmember $3 Punchcard $50 Boredmember Punch $39 Quarterly Dues $39 Yearly Dues $156 If you want to get on annual or quarterly dues or purchase a punchcard, please see the Hash Cash.
Receding Hareline 10/4 1359 Happy Feet & Got Milk – Wedding Run 10/11 1360 Pillsbury Blow Boy – LB Marathon 1 pm 10/18 1361 Sin-D-Bare - Los Angeles 10/25 1362 Broomhilda, JCSS – Halloween Run 11/1 1363 Pig Iron 11/8 1364 Dickoreater 11/15 1365Hozer – Birthday Run
Gossip, Write-ups, Pictures, Hash Directions and other tidbits MUST BE RECEIVED by Sunday at 7 p.m. Otherwise, it will not appear in the Snooze! E-mail to: [email protected]. REHASH: THIS DATE IN HASH HISTORY Run # 797 Date: 9/30/1999 (10 years ago) Place: Signal Hill Hares: RIFF RAFF & ON WHAT Miles: 5 Attendance: 106 It was a hot and balmy night as a huge contingent of hashers gathered in front of the Wine Country store in Signal Hill for the last Thursday night run of this hashing season. We had been advised to wear our fanciest Hawaiian shirts and most complied as we had been bribed with the promise of bottles of fine wine for the most resplendent island attire. Yes, the wine and champagne would be flowing, but at the expense of a lack of beer. So, we headed toward the hill and SCREW CAP went down almost immediately with a pulled muscle, He limped back to the start and the rest of us went UP. PSYCHO BITCH was the second hasher to receive an injury as she twisted her ankle. She was helped back to the start to join SCREW CAP. Soon we reached the champagne check (no beer), followed closely by a water check (no beer). Trail led to the driving range, over a fence and back uphill to another check with chardonnay – but no beer! WILD BILL led us onward to the fourth liquid refreshment check that featured red wine – and no beer! The on-in trail led us back to our cars. Hashers were glad to see the beer van and finally get a cold frosty one. 8 YELLOW SNOW and HI SPEED presided at down-downs that included the introduction of 8 new boots, a big batch of returners, the awarding of the bottles of wine for best Hawaiian attire and a special bottle of wine for the hashit, MOAN N’ FUCKER for saying “yes” to FUNGUS. The on-on was at Curley’s. (Note to ALWAYS JUICY: Don’t you wish you had started hashing sooner? See what you missed!)
Mismanagement Committee 2009 Grandmasters: Eddie “Pinky” Scott (714) 756-BYOB Joel “Sin-A-Bun” (310) 544-5223 Hash Cash: Laura “Hi Speed Copulator” Gaber (562) 822-8400 Allison “Phallus in Porno Land” Stokka [email protected] On Sec: JoAnn “6-9 Split” Levandoski (562) 858-6511 Bonnie “Tweedle Me” Gleeson (562) 596-4368 Email to: [email protected] On Disk: Neva “Alouette” Higgins (714) 526-7823 Victoria “Geezer Teaser” Rivera (714) 965-2062 Brewmeisters: Bill “Last Train to Cuntsville” Nord (714) SLIME-UP Marz “Veteran of 4N Whores” Gamboa (626) 488-8076 Munchmeisters: Suzanne “Broomhilda” Gilmore (562) 423-6149 Kurt “Nice Hair Fag” Hesse (949) 294-3773 Trailmaster: Ed “Mr. Rats Ass” Guerrero (562) 556-0282 Haberdashery: Dick “Poor Aim” Ames (714) 734-6979 Marcia “Take A #” Chaney (562) 902-9126 Songmeister: Debbie “Corn Hole Hussie” Cantril (562) 400-1099 Hash Flash: Ed “Scratch N Sniff” Feng (714) 943-1360 Jessica “Snatch of the Day” Alexander (562) 761-8289 Webmeister-Snooze: Pillsbury Blow Boy – [email protected] Webmeister-General: HomoSaxual – [email protected]
SHITTY TRAIL Run: 1358, October 1st, 6:30 p.m. Hares: Last Train To Cuntsville Location: Buckingham Park, Westminster From the north or south take the 405 to Westminster Ave. When you GET OFF, go east (away from the big blue thing) and turn right at Edwards. Go about a mile and Buckingham Park will be on your left. That's where the fuckin' start is. Park the living shit out your car. Note to GM's; There are very threatening signs saying " Park must be vacated by 9pm." Don't worry, trail is A to A' and the On On is close by. I hope you like to clime fences! This is the last Thursday Night trail. That's about the only significant thing about this particular Hash.
Alouette Neva Higgins 707 Nancy Lane Fullerton, CA 92831
