HASH TRASH
Run No. 1379
Venue: Twitcher’s House of Little Horrors, Msasani
Hares: Bumtitty, Twitcher, CampBed
Grandmaster: Cockroach
Religious Advisor: CampBed

It was long, it was hard, it got a little bit twisted at one point, but it came good in the end. And the Hash trail wasn’t bad either (How much more of this puerile crap do we have to put up with? Ed). A real Hash trail for once. Of course some anally-retentive Hashers complained bitterly about the trail crossing back on itself. Loosen up guys - get a life. Head Gasket (more of whom later, unfortunately) said it was “bluddy long”. Nutcracker cracked her knee, but with a good dose of positive thinking and some deep breathing she’ll be as right as rain in no time at all. Pleasure Centre was pulled by a dog. And Dommy proclaimed that the walk had been a life-enhancing experience for her - yeh well - nuff said.

Our venerable Trailmaster, Castratus Interruptus, promised us a truly amazing Hash next week - Dar’s first Sushi Hash - set by Banzai, and with a guest appearance (if we’re lucky) by Bonsai. Obama’s secret weapon - Arse Liquor - invited everyone to the launch of his new DVD “Live at the Bagomoyo Beach Resort” on Friday night at CampBed’s tent on Grant’s Road (yes, don’t you wonder at the hubris of some people).

CampBed kicked off by saying that he aimed to be a “Wham Bam Thankee Ma’am” kind of RA, unlike the superannuated windbags that normally occupy this slot. And despite being blown off course by the occasional unscripted event - e.g., Bumtitty getting bitten on the neck by what Spitsss (she knows a thing or two that one) identified as a Sodomising Bat (Pteropus Homoeroticus) - he pretty much kept to his promise. The Virgins - Just Bridget, Valerie, Popcorn, and Sakina (who comes by herself) - were humiliated in no time at all, and then the Inappropriately Dressed and Returnees were summarily despatched. As was Ski Feet, who is, sadly, leaving us, just when we had started to notice him. The line-up for Hashit was Bumtitty, Brad, Banzai, - and Head Gasket for being his usual noisy, obstreporous, pain-in-the-arse self. And it was awarded, very deservedly, to Head Gasket. True to tradition, the Circle ended with SLSC. And talking of bumptious Hashers, I have to report that Arse Liquor then barged to the head of the food queue claiming he had been recalled urgently to the Fort on a matter of national security - he proceeded to stack his plate with food, and then ran off with it into the night! I tell you, that’s one Crazy Mother*****r.

On On
BoB