HASH TRASH
Run No. 1336 15 September 2009
Venue: Mystery location, Morogoro
Hares: Wet Dream, Boxer, Prawn.

The traditional Hare of the Dog run took place after Church on Sunday morning, and was as enjoyable as ever. There is nothing that gives us old hands quite so much innocent fun as watching Hashers clamber up that cliff on the false trail (yes, I have been caught myself in the past). There seemed to be more than the usual number of knee-tremblers on the final rocky stages of the on-home. Hashers were enjoined to make a small Circle (Wet Dream says he always likes a tight one) but fortunately the GM’s customary pomposity was punctured by Calum putting ice down his dad’s shorts. When asked about the walk Candyblower said that it was fine apart from the jump she got at the end. EasyLet said it was a piece of cake, but then she was wearing two bras to help prevent over-balancing. Mr Bombastic said it was a rough ride. The RA - Mr S - pointed out that Frozen Assets was the only Hasher to have slept with LateCummer and got a good nights sleep. All thoughts of lunch were dispelled when Hashers were forced to view Twist’s meat and two veg. Mutineers suitably punished included Old Mother Reilly, Nasty Pasty, Boogie Boobs, Bumtitty, and Prawn. EasyLet reminded us to go see Mamma Mia at the Little Theatre, 2 - 10th October. The Circle ended with the singing of SLSC.

HASH TRASH
Run No.1335 14 September 2009
Venue: Hotel California, Morogoro
Hares: BagoBones, Panty Pockets

Just for the record, there were 8 kids on the Hash and another 60 or so folk whose mental development seemed to have been arrested around the age of 15. As you would expect from such an anally-retentive GM the Hash started smack on 4 o’ clock (I heard the Mission Bell ring) and followed the very well-worn classic trail up the mountain. At one point the runners came across some very pedestrian pedestrians - one of whom was EasyLet (such a lovely face) being coaxed down a 5% slope by a dozen Hashers (she will wear those high heels everywhere - perhaps they are surgically attached?). Any road, after much huffing, puffing and horning, we reached the rocks (such a lovely place). Relax, said the Nightman (Wet Dream, who else) and then he proceeded to lead us in a bravura performance of “Father Abraham” in order to check who was fit enough to join the summit team. Needless to say (but I am saying it anyway) the summit attempt was successful, but there was a scary moment on the vertiginious retreat when Head Gasket pushed his son Dylan (as he was then known) off a cliff in order to make a good photo.

The GM (Candyman) kicked off the Circle with a round-up of Hashers who had fallen foul of the Law on the dark, desert highway - these included Head Gasket, Panty Pockets, Easy Let, LateCummer and Dumb Ass. They took their downs downs in Warm Safari on account of the unaccountable absence of pink champagne on ice. Flatulence said he had had a long ride, but whether he was referring to the journey or some other unsavoury activity was left to the imagination. PantyPockets, LateCummer, Stiff Cock Tail, BagoBones, Flatulence and Bumtitty were thanked for mismanaging the event to good effect, though Erotic Chicken complained bitterly about the lack of mirrors on the ceilings. The Religious Advisor - Mr Sh***ole - called forth various Hashers who had gone arse over tit, including Easy Let, Hornigoat (she got a lot of pretty pretty boys, she calls friends), Boxer, Tiny Sausage and Dominatrix. Virgins were thin on the ground, and we had to make do with Liz (FSP: all of them) Pelagia (FSP: wouldn’t tell) and Marianne (FSP: up against a fridge (I bet she is a real handful in Currys)). Returnees included Frozen Assets (hurrah for Frozen!) Dar She Blows, Bumtitty, Quasa Quasa (she got the mercedes bends) and Luscious Lucy. Neophyte Jill was named Whipped Cream, young Dylan will now be known as SpitHoon, Rosemary becomes Mind the Gap, and Grace’s two greatest assets inspired Wet Dream to come up with her name of Twin Peaks. When it came to awarding the Hashit there was a lot of Tit for Tat (aka CandyMan and CandyBlower (no suprises there then) as well as Nasty Pasty (Her mind is tiffany-twisted). It went to a very deserving Nasty Pasty. Just as my head grew heavy and my sight grew dim we sang Swing low Sweet chariot and slunk off to dinner.

On On
BoB