Greetings,

Welcome to Lampshade 2022. The sun was out and it was warm. The only detractors this year was having Occasional Rapist, Cum You Will Not and dBASED as our tri-powered hare team. I assume the reasoning is that if you’re stupid enough to been seen wearing a lampshade on your head in the town in which you reside, there’s no reason you should not allow the most treacherous trio of hares you could possibly think up to lead you around. And so we did.

Beginning from the traditional location of the Hindquarter affords us the opportunity of having the class photo snapped directly across the street at Riverside Lighting. Incidentally, this venue also provides notorious lushes, such as Surf City Senile Senior Citizen TIMMY!!, with an opportunity to break more martini glasses and Pink Cherry Licker to inhale more pink foo-foo drinks. But enough of them, while a hilarious diversion, it is not our main purpose here today. Our main thrust, at least in public, will be the donning of lampshades as chapeaus and prancing around Santa Cruz as if this was our normal attire.

The action moved from the bar area where, incidentally, we saw old harriette Banana Slut. She said no way would she plant a lampshade on her head and went back to her drinking alone. The herd migrated to the patio area and planted the flag of Hashdom for all to see. There were two patrons who stopped in after their dinner to ask what was going on. While they accepted our answer, they indicated they would not be joining us.

Other than this one encounter with mortals, prelube went amazingly well and waitstaff was wise(frightened?) enough to let us be, at least for the most part. Pat the beertender kept a close eye on us hoping he did not have to chase anyone to get the multitude of bar tabs paid. Assuming we will be allowed back in next year, no one attempted the proverbial dine-and-dash tactic. Instructions of Trail were attempted only slightly after the advertised time. Conceptually, they appeared to relate valuable pieces of information. However, once on trail I realized they were a huge misrepresentation of the actual trail. The flock then flew across Soquel Avenue(paying zero attention to oncoming traffic) for the annual class photo at Riverside Lighting.

After photographic proof of our foolish nature was recorded, and no surprise here, the pack, minus the hare-trio, returned to the bar. Waitstaff had been informed we would return, much to their dismay, and our drinks had been allowed to await our return. After our glasses had been emptied, co-GM’s Cumz Out My Nose(cradling new puppy Boulder) and Broke Bench Mountain(cradling new wife Cumz Out My Nose) called for Circleup for Introductions and heard responses from the following hounds: Bacon Queef, Pink Cherry Licker, TIMMY!!, Baker’s Dozen’t, Wicked Retahted, Leaky Rubber, My Best Friend’s Cock, Just Foot Pussy, Pretty Fly For A Pi Guy, Steamy Baanorrhea, Clearly Not A Hooker, Cold Smegma Kamikaze, Accuprick, Rainbow Butthole, Wines Like A Bitch, Driponya, L’eggs, Virgin(?) Caty and Puff the Magic Drag Queen. The actors have assumed their positions, let the game begin.

There was mass confusion immediately. No one had the intelligence to observe the direction the hares outed so hounds hot-footed in all directions and seemingly all to no avail. Hounds went onto the river levee, down Riverside Avenue and onto the bridge over the river. They all returned empty handed. Or should that be empty headed? Whatever. Eventually on-on was given along Dakota Street to on-left into San Lorenzo Park and take the pathway on-right over the pond and exit back out onto Dakota Street. Try as we did, we were unable to fathom the reasoning for such a pointless circle jerk so early on trail. Then again considering who the hares were…

Dakota brought the gang to Ocean Street where the mark DGK implored us not to be exterminated crossing the street. The logic behind taking the troops to a place where they may die and then telling them NOT to be killed escapes me. Wouldn’t the most prudent course of action be NOT taking inebriated persons into the danger zone to begin with? Then again, as previously mentioned, considering who the hares were…

Once across Ocean, a solved check led the litter on-right to Soquel Avenue, on-left and on-up the Soquel Avenue hill(paying our respects to fallen hashers Last Norm Norm and Pearl Necklace as we passed their abode) and then on-right onto Ocean View Avenue and then immediately on-left through the parking lot behind Shoppers Corner. We crossed over South Branciforte Avenue and were led onto Hanover Street. Hanover is only one block long here and we were directed to on-right onto Pine Street. Once to Broadway, we were pointed on-left a mere one block to Pennsylvania Avenue where we went on-right and across Broadway onto Pennsylvania. Again, what would appear to be a pointless circle jerk. Now across Broadway, Pennsylvania was used until it ends at Windham Street. Here we we pointed on-right and past historic Windham Street Market, now a private residence, but was a working family-owned neighborhood market when Puff moved two blocks away in January of 1977.

Once (back) to Pine Street we went on-left a short distance and then on-right onto Pleasant Street. While LIVING here may be pleasant, DRIVING on this road is anything but. This must be a private street as there are no curbs or gutters and it has more holes than DeLaveaga golf course. After stumbling through Peasant Street’s one block length, it was on-left onto Caledonia Street who one block later turns on-right and morphs into Peck Terrace. This brought us to South Branciforte Avenue(again) where an on-left was made. At the end of South Branciforte, the mob utilized the locals-only path that skirts along beside a fence guarding an apartment complex and dumped us out on East Cliff Drive. Here was the promised Turkey/Eagle split. It appears the Eagles are headed towards Beach Flats. Scribe ain’t going there as it nears dark, I’ll be Turkey trotting today.

Trail turned us on-right a very short distance and then pointed us on-right again and into the inappropriately named Jessie Street Marsh. The City of Santa Cruz, in it’s infinite wisdom, put an end to the ‘marsh’ part of Jessie Street marsh decades ago so that now it can sit idle and useless and the wildlife that called it home was evicted. (The preceding was Editorial Opinion) Once we stumbled to Lemos Avenue and a quick on-right into Alley 938. When this alley ends at Barson Street, we went on-left, across Ocean Street(again) and on-left onto Bixby Street which brought us to East Cliff Drive again. We went directly across to our only shiggy of trail, a quick but steep climb on-up of a hillside to the top of the river levee. Here it was on-right. The Eagles rejoined at the Riverside Avenue bridge and then one and all hot-footed it to Mimi De Marta dog park on Broadway beside the river levee. In strict non-adherence to the sign at the entrance, the hares hosted Beer Check here. Clearly Not A Hooker (foolishly) pointed out where she sleeps at night, I noted many a harrier making a mental note of such. Upon the completion of our appointed task here, the mob migrated back to Riverside Lighting and, in the most well lit area RA Accuprick could find, we staged Religion in plain view from Soquel Avenue.

Here’s a sampling of down-downs Accuprick issued this night: Those whom were insanely attending their first Lampshade Hash; Leaky Rubber for not only remembering to bring the Hashit this week but for the salacious item he found to attach to it(visit the Flash for further info); Clearly Not A Hooker for sanitizing the item Leaky Rubber acquired to attach to the Hashit; those that set not one rear paw upon trail; Driponya as a backslider. Oh, yeah. The accursed tri-powered hares. There was some thanks for Beer Check but nothing good was said of trail. After dispensing with the hares and immediately after a black-and-white slowed to take in the proceedings, Accuprick declared, This Hash is over! By the same token, that brings an end to this Trash as well.

The preceding was a factual accounting of actual events though possibly not as they actually occurred. One should never allow the facts to stand in the way of a good story.

A Scribe’s sole purpose is to provide entertainment to their kennel mates. Whether or not they are successful in this endeavor is still a subject open to debate.

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 fifth day of April in the year of our Hash two-thousand twenty-two.

Submitted with all respect due,

Puff

the

Magic Drag Queen

Surf City H3 Scribe