Un-bee-lievable

Date: Saturday, May 6, 2012. 

Hares: Orca, Dreadful and Nipples

Location: Forest reserve.

Hash Number: 1666.

Attendance: About 40?

It was back to the familiar surroundings of the forest reserve off State Lodge Road this week as we gathered round the circle in the sunshine. Rounding up a few late-comers, we set off – Dreadful leading the way.
With good intentions, Hash Trash set off at the front of the pack. However, a quick cut back two minutes later put him firmly in the rear. Admitting defeat, Titilator soon led him through the bush and straight to the walkers! Happy days!
At a much more agreeable pace, we returned to the car park roughly 13 seconds after that, all ready for the sweaty, dirty runners to return. However, it seemed the runners had a different agenda as Orca and co stomped the back roads of the reserve, crossing the pylons and even the dirt road.
How inconsiderate. What do they think this is, a running club? Anyway several walkers, with the prospect of a 30-minute wait for the return of the beer tap, sorry, Boy Blue, returned to the trail to while away the minutes and discuss such high-brow topics as ‘why can’t you get petrol in Malawi?’ and ‘when are they knocking off the zeros on the kwacha?’
High-brow stuff, indeed. Anyhow, the runners eventually returned and we got underway with the real business of the day – drinking beer and getting harassed by bees. Hamster stepped forth to proclaim the run to be perfectly satisfactory, grading it 9 of 8,000,000 kwacha (that’ll be 8,000 kwacha, BTW).
Newcomers Jennifer, from Canada-aye, and Ashley, daughter of the newly-named Sugar Babe and Money Launderer, were welcomed, before Princess Fiona and Barrel Boy were brought forth for an FA Cup down-down. Princess represented his favourite team, Liverpool, and Barrel Boy represented his former employees, Chelsea. The Pools forecast panel declared it a ‘no score draw’ as copious amounts of Mosi were dribbled down their chins.
Next up was Batman, Spaceman and Bottom Feeder for a crime nearly as terrible as wearing neon – wearing dafter shorts. Next up were Child Abuse and Tripod for their rubbish glasses (not the type you wear – that would just be harsh).
The circle then started to resemble a second-rate variety show, as Hamster showed off his bee beard and Condom Man wowed us all with his magic tricks – Daniels and McGee eat your heart out.
Sanity was eventually restored and Squits was punished for the outrageous crime of wearing pyjamas at some point. Princess snitched on Fruitcake, having been tipped off by Raspberry, for taking his off-roading a bit too seriously, nearly ditching the hash altogether to test out his ex- ambassadorial Range Rover on the dirt roads. They were nearly in Malawi by the time he was persuaded to turn it around.
Aside from the silliness, Hashers will be pleased to know that hash fleeces will soon be available (pending a successful ram-raid at Manda Hill PEP by LIYL). God knows how much she’s going to ‘fleece’ us for – geddit? Never mind.
Which left just one last item on the agenda – Hash Shit. Duly elected was Spaceman. What a grass. Dobbing your sister in. Shame! On-On.