Hash Trash 1538 (beware of imposters)
21 January 2013
Venue: The Cock Hospital
Hares: Cock Dr, Boxer, Panty Pockets
GM: Cockroach
RA: Shaggy Haggis

Boxer told us the trail was 5k long. He lied. Boxer is a fit guy, but what was the yellow liquid he was drinking on the run - drugs? piss? beer? Next weeks Hash, to be hosted by Second Cumming, will be smack on the 5k limit and more devious. We shall see. Sparkle sang to us – “Sharon and Boxer sitting in a tree …” which ended with Sharon being both up the tree and up the duff. Out of the mouths of babes…. Sparkle has reached the grand old age of seven, so we sang Hashy Birthday back to her. There was plenty of lost property, including a rusty key which the RA was sure must fit a harriette’s chastity belt. Slappa was overheard telling someone “I haven’t had it for years” but it turned out that this was a reference to the Hashit (no, really Ed).

Just Ballsome paid the traditional penalty for coming to the Hash all the way from the Lebanon in new shoes (you didn’t know there was a traditional penalty for coming to the Hash all the way from the Lebanon in new shoes? – shame on you) – rather harsh treatment for a Virgin (for such he was) methinks. Returnees explained their absence variably as “Zambia shopping PicknPay, Pissed in Ireland, Hashing in Aberdeen, and Minding General’s privates.” The serious business of deciding who merited the Hashit kicked off with nominations for Cock Dr (for taking a crap on the trail) and Slappa (for washing the Hashit regalia) but then degenerated rapidly - Inspector Gadget hurled mean-spirited accusations of Hashit regalia abuse at the Cock Dr, and she hurled them back with a vengeance, and added a few of her own. By rights they should have both got it, but the GM, probably fearing that the Cock Dr might retaliate by adding laxatives to our food, awarded it to Inspector Gadget. As in all the best Circles we ended by singing Swing Low Sweet Chariot.

On On
BoB