HASH TRASH
Run No.1355 31 January 2010
Venue: Bongoyo Island
Hares: BagOBones, Panty Pockets
Grand Master: CampBed
Religious Advisor: Shaggy Haggis
Piper: BlowJob

It was very strange to be taking part in the Bongoyo Hash without Prawn, Old Mother Riley, and Boogie Boobs, but they will be pleased to hear that their creation is still very much alive, and continues to give pleasure to so many of Dar’s lowlife. Everything worked too well for it to be a really great Hash, though the Grand Master not only managed to forget the Down Down mugs, but also designed a Hash T-shirt that doesn’t mention the word “Hash”. Talking of T-shirts, some lucky Hashers got a couture version that subtly uplifted the parts that other T-shirts let droop (and we are talking female physiognomy here by the way). Could this catch on? Perhaps we could have some special shorts for the male Hashers - not that I need them you understand, but for Hashers like Erotic Chicken who could use a bit of enhancement (last week’s Trash refers). The trail followed the traditional route to Bongoyo Cathedral where the service this year was conducted by Cardinal B. O’ Bones - am not sure that Hashers were too convinced, because nobody came forward to kiss his ring.

Arriving back at the main Beach wet, scratched, grazed, and cream-crackered the spirits of the Hashers were boosted by the Haggis being piped in and then liberally annointed with the GM’s own brand of whisky. In accordance with tradition the Circle was held in the sea. Said Circle was engulfed by numerous waves of tsunami proportions, but as the maelstrom swept through LateCummer and his mate Patti bravely held on to the Down Down stuff and not a drop was spilt - hash heroes they be. Talking of which, Candyman pulled no less than THREE Swiss nymphs off their sunbeds and down over the hot sand into the Circle, on the promise of the latest score in the Federer/Murray match - and I was so busy storing in their visual details, that, to my eternal regret, my brain overloaded and I had no space left for their FSPs. The Trailmaster was absent, so a lookalike - Banzai - was chosen, and, as he didn’t have a clue about where next week’s Hash is, he played his part to perfection. The GM knew better and announced that Monday’s Hash will be at the Hash Harlot’s brothel in Regent Estate (this could be hard to find because I think everywhere is a brothel in Regent Estate, but there will be a map. Jonathan, our trusty Piper, was named “BlowJob” (Candyman complaining that this was too intellectual a name), a Lucy lookalike was named “Banging Wet” and Karen becomes “Nuts for Love.”

After lunch we had fun and games. Against the run of form Close Encounter’s team won the boat race by a can and a half. All the smart money was on Saddlesore’s team, but her back marker - Latecummer - suffered a refusal and foamed horribly at the mouth. I feared that he would have to been put down, but unfortunately he was seen drinking again in the paddock. The traditional tug-of-war, was, as always, won by the Harriettes and assorted rugrats and little biters (when is Candyblower coming back?). Contrary to all tradition, the Hash did not end with “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot”.

OnOn
BoB