The Sydney Mounted Hareld
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First Run 1967 O N O N . A L W A Y S . Number 2431 February 3, 2014
RUN REPORT FEB 3 – BALGOWLAH: CHINATOWN / Mr NEAT & KITTY LITTER
Gung Ho Fat Boy! The Week of the Whores
Well it was billed most grandiloquently as the Run of the Year–by the Hares. More superlatives than Chinese at a Sunday Yum Cha. These guys will do anything to be named Whores of the Year of the Horse. And they just might have done it.
Regaled in all manner of Chinese dress, some in red t-shirts others in yellow to mark Chinese New Year, the pack milled round Gourmet Avenue, scratching their balls, having a piss, frightening the maiden mistresses of thoroughbred pooches out for an evening constitutional, receiving the briefing from Hares Messrs. Neat and Litter. Look out for the Arthur Streeton images implored Trailmaster Moishe. And wasn’t that so. But first the Gung Hos, Darwin and Khyber led the pack and charged towards Forty Basket Beach remembering the days when a man would be thrilled to find a buffed up bronzed Aussie naked in the bush right here. Capt Bligh opined that they’re over at Clontarf now, more’s the pity.
Soon a collection of front-runners, Scotsman, Goon, Music, Benny, Shit Minor were caught by a false false trail out on the hazardous limpet-laden bippy-bound rocks. Until coming to their rescue S Bends, bounding over low tide pools, crying “I Can Jump Puddles,” together with Maximus, Sheepdip and Payling, showed the lost lads the way—on on on round Dobroyd Point, across huge rocks of granite, soaking up oceans of splendid scenery and up into squatter territory. It was here that Lost Patrol, noted that Fred Williams was the first non-indigenous surfer, in 1891 to breast the breakers.
Moments later Cinders, Music, Grape“where’s the f**kin’ defib”Ape, Spud and Plunger are caught..again, heading north instead of west, and must double back to follow the lead of Robbo and Ripper above Crater Cove towards the scenic drive (first tho stopping for an Arthur Streeton snap, including our Saigon visitor who later disappeared into the night having cleverly negotiated the purchase of one of our classic Armani Chesty Bond commemorative singlets at a very good price. For us. They’re like hens’ teeth now, not to put too fine a point on it, and as rare as chicken feet. And then away again, Cinders slowing only to drop into Geo’s views-to-die-for-but-it-would-be-a-shame pad, for a spot of..Brylcreem.
And home to the bucket where the Hares had prepared home-made chilled plasma-marinated baby chicken feet Gow Gee nibbles, to die from (see pic). Then the chefs really performed…these coots are made for woking, and that’s just what they did. Straight from the kitchens of the Bak Lui, Mr Wong and Jimmy Choo, Kitty, Pilko and Jungle, ably sous-chefed and served by Baron, Benny, the beer-battered Goonshow and Mandarin Music crafted a genuine Chinese banquet. This was climaxed by Lychees and Sole of Watermelon created by Kitty (“cobblers,” meaowed the Kitt). Meanwhile the tables were causing some concern..like Ouija boards the glasses, bottles, plates and spillage all seemed to move of their own energy. It could have had something to do with the slope (sorry) angle of the tables, poised as they were above Wellings Reserve. Most attempted to solve this mysterious movement by putting their hands beneath the table, and down each others shorts.
Which brings us to Downdowns. These were awarded to Sheepdip’s old dart mate, Eric, the Hares, the Chefs, Flying Scotsman (who, thanks to being suckled as a child by a haggis, claims there are only two kinds of people in the world—Scots and those wish they were–disdained The Year of the Horse, and chose instead to celebrate the birth of the Rabbi Burns at the Lebanese noshery, Emad’s—remember the 75th?– where they serve horse, that he swears was kosher). Adding meaning to the All-Stars’ rousing Year of the Horse rendition of “I Like Pon-ies”, the inscrutable Bum Clack reminded the throng of Confucius’s original 1,000-year-old proverbs (one of which was given to Confucius by Elusive: “wife who send husband to doghouse soon find him in cathouse,” which clacked him up. The Clack then presented the All-Stars with Little Red Envelopes containing Little Red Envelopes of hope and good fortune for the golden future, to much applause. Humour, deliberately kept lame in deference to the solemn occasion, was dispensed by PeeDub, JTR, Music, Calici and TToc.
NOTES
Sh-Boom, Sh-Boom! God Knows showed his Subaru a whacking good time last week. Apparently a boom gate decided to descend upon the Godly One as he was: A) Entering a car-park; B) Exiting a car-park; or C) Crossing a railway line. Only the Subaru knows for sure, but it’s all bandaged up in St Subaru’s hospital at the moment, with police standing by anxious to have it help them with their enquiries.
Plunger, recent recipient of the “Help me I’m Lost” award, a splendid magnum of Penfold’s Bin 389 provided by Major Disaster Diasater, returned home the other day to find said valuable award had been uncorked and gargled to within an inch of its bottom by none other than…wifey Vibeke. Admittedly Miss V upon consuming the contents with a tipsy friend of hers, then made a pathetic attempt to replace the contents with a similarly red-looking Jacob’s Creek. Plunge was almost fooled, but the shiraz stains around the culprits’ lips alerted him to the unthinkable. He was overheard spluttering “lips that touch the Plunge’s liquor shall never touch mine, without a great deal of compensation…and I don’t mean just wine”.
Robbo has always been an oyster lover. But not any more. Striding the rocks at Mollymook with Helen and family, Robbo was suddenly attacked by a mob of murderous molluscs, their shells as sharp as the tools used to schuck ‘em. They tore at his executive flesh, lacerating his limbs and threaded his thumb (this was particularly galling, because Robbo is quite proud of the fact that he was the first in his family ever to grow a thumb). Revenge is sweet as we know, and he soon got the better of these ornery oysters and…ate them. The injuries have left nasty scars but are being treated by facial Botox that just happened to be in his medicine cabinet.
Flasher is just back from attending the second 75th Anniversary of the founding of all Hashdom, in Kuala Lumpur. Alert readers will remember that the All-Star committee and their aides participated in the FIRST ie Original celebration in KL last November, officially representing The Posh (a few ringgits from the slush fund jolly well spent was the general comment upon their return). Anyway Flasher, whose generous brother-in-law, Vincent, of the PJ Hazards H3 in KL hosted our boys the first time, at the run and at ‘The Dog’ Hash Club HQ, contracted a nasty bug and could not join in the shenanigans , thus having only the T-shirt to show for his journey.
The Posh kayakers were very hungry last weekend as you can imagine, having paddled the length of Long Bay which is very long, without food. They were about to start chewing on their kayaks..but you can’t have your kayak and eat it too. Fortuitously the Northbridge home of Mash and the lovely Di was handy, and the welcoming couple hosted the kayakers for breakfast, serving their signature dish, which is of course…mash.