Not Amor(hey!) but Aless(hey!)
As a result of the carpet-bombing style advertising campaign by the Seth Efricns a large pack gathered at St Ives to hear the now slimmed down S-Bends give the pre run spiel.
The trail would be in the Gordon Quarter of St Ives and your rank as a runner would determine how much bush trail you would get. The trail was well marked as commented by a few but I only noticed token dunny paper in the bush – I do hope the Hares retrieve said paper before the good burghers of St Ives plaster the North Shore Times with moans.
Lurch was dressed in tones of green tonight rather than his regulation blue and again he walked – the second time ever (ever is getting a bit of a work out). Changi and his guest cocked things up beautifully when they managed to get themselves on to Mona Vale Rd. – his explanation “it was all bush and no p@#sy” – he did manage to F@#k it(up) though. Your Choice finished back in the middle of the pack – must have been slowed up by his new glasses. Music Man gave his usual, unprintable, opinion of the run between beers at the Bucket.
The anticipation for the “One Night Only” On On was unbelievable but cracks were appearing – there was dissent between the Hares, and Little Shit was AWOL so there was no one to sort the chef out. Co-hare Copraphelia (and Committee members) ran between the kitchen and the diners with plates of …… and collected money whilst the other hare sat in all his glory at the head of the table. Scud had earlier in the day set the scene for the meal – “As I’ve said before I hope they are not just going to fill us up with tons of cheap pasta which costs nothing!!! And he got his wish (sic). San Remo spirals with Ragulatto pasta sauce times two – and no Chianti. Nuf said. For added interest some bastard used shrapnel to pay for his dinner.
When the President stood there was silence – amazing. Downs tonight for Hares S-Bends and Copraphelia and then visitor Son of Tampon Top. Scud received a congratulatory beer for finally winning a game of golf – first prize 20kgs of PMU spaghetti.
Pee Dub had to be forceful to hold his mantle as “first joke teller” and doesn’t he get worked up and hot and bothered when he tells lovey-dovey jokes.
S-Bends was nearly overrun by Trump supporters before he regaled us with a description on the Papal dress code. Wee Willy had hot nipples with breakfast, and Wombat found a very obliging blonde who helped him with his lost luggage. Pee Dub came back for a second round and some cross Nuns. Tic Toc as usual had the final say with a story of the ATO audit at Circumcision Central in St Ives.
On On
Bigamist
As usual well written and interesting.
Well done