HASH TRASH

Run Nos. 1375 & 1376

Venue: Dar to Bagomoyo the long way

Hares: Wet Dream, Boogie Boobs

Grand Master: Cockroach

Religious Advisor: Perkle

Beermeister: Triar *uck

Man of the Match: Arse Liquor

Another really great Bagomoyo relay - a truly fun day out for all the family - made possible by quite a few people putting in a lot of effort, and the very generous support of our sponsors. All those of us who didn’t put in any effort owe them a big thank you. Too many good memories to recount all of them, but the sight of Arse Liquor feeling for his missing shoe in two feet of mud was one of them - I haven’t laughed so much since Close Encounters left her bikini bottoms behind ..(That happened years ago - do you have to keep going on about it? Ed). Amazingly, no-one got lost or left behind, though Nutcracker and the Beermeister did try.

Thankfully, there were no flying motorbikes this year, but there was plenty of other excitement, what with unscheduled toilet stops, whether the burgers for lunch would be cooked right through (they were), whether Bumtitty would run up that hill without his heart exploding (it didn’t), and the Perkle (sad bastard that he is) spotting a spoonbill (Platalea alba). It was hot, sweaty work of course, and unlike a normal hash, there was always the pressure not to let the team down. No-one did, and there were some brave performances from those who are hashers not runners. We even got to Bagomoyo before dark.

The Circle went on and on, but the euphoria and self-belief generated by the day’s efforts (Steady on - don’t get carried away, Ed) carried us all through, helped along by plenty of lubrication. While we were having fun, LateCummer was pouring over a hot random number generator (no, not Moonhorn) and the results he came up with had all the credibility of an Iranian election. Let’s just say that those teams that were made up exclusively of real, regular hashers can be justly proud of their efforts.

The after-dinner entertainment just got better and better as the night wore on, culminating in Arse Liquor’s stunning Freddie Mercury performance. This wasn’t an impression - during that tumultuous, captivating, out-of-body experience, he was Freddie Mercury. This man should be at Cesar’s Palace - I can see his name in lights beaming out over the Strip - “ARSE LIQUOR TWICE NIGHTLY.” MLP said that after that performance every woman in the room would be ready to drop their knickers for him (AL that is not MLP), and probably not a few of the men would too. The audience gave him a standing ovation. Of course, lets be fair, he did have a superb backing group in the “HeadBangers” - line-up was Flatulence and Shaggy Haggis on air guitars - I noticed some sloppy chord changes from Flatus, but he was atop the bar at the time - and of course I musn’t forget Head Gasket on air drums - though God knows I’ve tried. It was truly A Night to Remember. And I haven’t even told you yet about Get Me Off dancing something that looked like the Charleston on Speed - though I have now. And the KILI just kept flowing and flowing.

The Hair of the Dog run was a mite subdued, but it was full of interest nevertheless. The trail wound its way around and through the Holy Ghost Mission’s sewage ponds, which was done purely so that the puerile Hare - Wet Dream - could exclaim “Holy Shit”. Actually, it didn’t smell at all, which speaks volumes for the benefits of the celibate life. We are on very dodgy ground here, and so we were, but Ski Feet raised the moral tone by expounding on the relative merits of aerobic and anaerobic digestion. We then headed to the beach, and who’s bright idea was it for us to run throught the mangrove forest? There was a Circle with a lot of singing. The RA abused his powers (what’s new?) by perversely naming his son TADPOLE when everybody had voted in favour of CANDYBUG. Hey, lets call him KNICKERLESS TADPOLE. And Nurse Ratched was awarded the Hashit. Good choice. Of course the Circle ended with SLSC - did you need to ask?

On On

BoB