HASH TRASH
Run No.1328 3 August 2009
Venue: TCPDC Mikocheni
Hares: Beach Balls, Ibrahim

Another very long hash, but some of the harriettes were way out in front - and they ran ahead of the pack too. A good effort by Beach Balls, who sets more hashes than most hashers, but a little more craftiness in laying the trail would have slowed down the professional runners and allowed clunkers like me to complete the run without becoming cream-crackered. Highlights included Twist’s minder, Barnaby, being ambushed by a local mutt (no, not Tiny Sausage), and a bravura performance of limbo dancing by neophyte Sophie. She is from Denmark you know - probably Aarhus - and the interesting thing about people from Aarhus is that they like to use transparent plastic lunch boxes. Not many people know that.

Rippa had gone awol, so the Grand Master (CampBed) asked for lookalikes to tell us about next weeks hash. This was a difficult one, but Wet Dream said that Flatulence smelled most like Rippa, so Flatulence came into the Circle and gave us some shambling, incoherent directions of the kind that Rippa excels in. And at the end of it all no-one was any the wiser as to where next weeks Hash will be - except that Close Encounters is setting it. The Religious Advisor (Cockroach) started off by castigating the Walking Hare - Ibrahim - for wearing a red dress, when everyone knows that the red dress run was weeks ago. This was followed by a sell-out performance of Father Ibrahim, led by Wet Dream, whose ooohs and aaaarhse are still being talked about with awe, but who gets very shirty if you don’t do the Oggies right.

America’s finest are having a boozy night at the Marine House on Friday at 7.30, and everyone who is identifiable is welcome. When you arrive you should ring the bell at the bar, and you will find that you’ve gained a whole new lot of friends.

A Hasher who must have escaped my notice previously (which is pretty easy) was given the name of Mother Trucker, on account of his exploits at the helm of the beer truck. For once, Virgins were thin on the ground - in fact there was just Sophie - who had difficulty in remembering her FSP out of “so many”. Night Rider paid a heavy price for changing out of his sweaty takkies into his smooth, leather loafers - not only did he have to drink his down down from them, but he was awarded the Hashit too. The Circle ended with the traditional song.

On On
BoB