Run 8th November 2010, Jungle & Centre Point
Venue: ..Snives Showground …again
If there’s any truth in the saying that the “Sun shines on the righteous” then the SH3 must have slipped down on the brownie point system this season with ‘Im up there’. Last week it bucketed and caused chaos, with Major Disaster seriously thinking that he was only one step away from his maker.
But this week the pious Jungle and righteous Centrepoint, whose head is closer to ‘Im up there’ than any one else in the hash, heavied some persuasion to pull off a reprieve. But only Just!
JJ and CP treated us to our annual outing at ‘Snives showground …..again. It’s getting harder each year to put together variations on trails like wot ‘aven’t been done before’. But give them their due …they picked up a few combo trails which made a good early summer outing. And no fucking leaches…….at least if you believe JJ’s blood stained ankle.
Apart from not-so-clever trail marking, which thankfully most of the pack decided to ignore anyway, there was enough choice (but not Your Choice -who stayed behind to become Maitre D) for the diehard bolters, the capable but plain slack, and the no-hopers to select what they wanted out of the trail. But don’t believe the GPS map with this diatribe, koz it aint all true; just a little bit. And most of the pack came in just before “lights out”
E Shit, (or was it Jock?), lived up to his name and took a bad punt by ordering a curry from cheapskate Chinamen. Personally I wouldn’t order a stir fry, with sweet’n sour pork from an Indian outfit, so why the fuck would one order a curry from a tight arse, bean counting Chinaman. Bad call boys.
Still the evening was cool and dark and the run was OK, so 55 or so separated with their hard earned $25-00 for some very debatable and funny tasting stew with a few chewy brown lumps floating around, topped with squishy bananas in white flecks that supposedly came out a coconut husk a few decades ago. Just as well as the Gourmet Grape wasn’t present otherwise we wouldn’t have heard the end of it. Again the main course was redeemed by fresh fruit salad with more scoops of soft almost melting ice cream than is good for most hashmen.
At 8 O’clock sharp it arrived. Crash Bang Flash Wallop and the brownie points failed to hold off another belting storm. Must have been the two bloody awful jokes that Frenchie delivered. Someone has to be blamed.
Your Scribe
Tales of the Misfits
Douglas the Dud,
This bunch of misfit wierdos is something of a vein of gold. …….On the surface they look likea gaggle of ageing old men shuffling and farting their way around their weekly runners andwalkers’ trails, but there are one or two stand out blokes. A couple actually have a pedigree just like any other pack of old dogs. I told you about their stupid names but get thisone….Pee Dub. Now believe it or not he has to be a retired AFL player. I say this because he displays all the attributes of an old time footy boy.
First up he struts around the trails in one of those tight pair of undersized short shorts, withhis buns popping out like a pair of doughnuts. Sadly for the ‘Harriettes’, the similarly ageingbunch of old Sheilas (who are a pale imitation of this bunch of farting old misfits) no longer wet their knickers over his buns as gravity has taken its toll on both the front and back of his anatomy.
Two, he has a repertoire of really bad jokes, but because of the early onset of Hashism, (akaseniors disease) he can’t remember them and so has to read them aloud to his mates. Even then he can’t get them right as his eyesight is failing and his vanity is too much for him to wear reading specs. As noted in an earlier report he learnt his practised spontaneity from his mentor, Legless, whose delivery was not dissimilar to a Kevin Rudd speech.
Three, he has all the toys of an AFL player,…… you know, the 4X wheeler, sports car, kayak, range of Harley motorbikes, and God only knows what else is tucked away in the garage.
Four: Of course he has his regular everyday Sheila who accompanies him to all the big gigs around town, (good for the press photographers) but like all seasoned footy players he also has a soiree of sweet young things tucked away in all the Asian cities. Why else does he take several weeks off every year for his annual travel and ‘lurrve in’ sessions? One thing that sets him apart from his old footy mates is that the doctor has ordered him off the grog. Probably for very good reasons (I understand that a single rum and coke makes him, well, legless). So now whilst his mates down tinnies of ice cold carbonated piss andquaff the vino, poor old Pee Dub is back to the softies…lemonade and ginger beer. Maybe that’s his secret of keeping up the libido whilst all his mates are popping Viagra like jellybeans. This Pee Dub bloke is a quite a lad, typical AFL footy boy going to seed but still thinks he’s a ‘ladies man’ in spite of the embarrassing effect of gravity around his buns and waist line. More on some of the other misfits next week.
Yours in displeasure.
Bwana Matata
If you have Google Earth installed on your computer – by clicking here you will be able to see where the run went : run 2263.
