This week we were in the Centre of the Posh universe i.e. the suburb in which a trail would be a home game for the most number of Poshmen.
When trail starts at sea level you know there is going to be lotsa hills in this area – in fact lotsa stairs as the hares announced at the chalk talk. Overlaid on these hills was a trail in the shape of one of those 60’s cartoon dolly models – big at both ends and skinny in the middle. A loop around Cremorne Point for the boobs part, a loop around Curraghbeena Point for the bum part and very close to home for the waist part.
Even though Benny the Swede didn’t opt for the obvious short cut at the bridge over the park near home he got jaded with the second lot of hills and short-cut whilst the rest of the runners continued on to be home in 50 minutes. The walkers as usual dawdled in over 15mins depending on which trail they covered.
Duckweave arrived at the Bucket to announce that he missed the run because his wife had phoned him, when he was on his way to hash, to tell him to put the cat out as she was out playing golf with girlfriends and wouldn’t be home till late. There’s a whole bunch of things wrong with that! Or is that a “dog ate my homework” excuse? Darwin Don crept unnoticed into his car and had a little zizz…… whilst Moishe was prancing around shirtless just to prove it wasn’t a cold night. Little Shit was overheard trying to convince the TM that is was a crappy run?
We adjourned to the Mosman Rowers Club, where the good ship Simmo was moored out front on the marina, to partake of $15 steaks or fish and chips. Despite misgivings uttered by Centre Point about the potential of the quality, the food was good (so long as you were ok with a medium steak that is). It was noted later in the evening that the Hares had gathered a clan at their table and were indulging in meals off the a la carte menu.
Even though we had the place to ourselves the Downs were a subdued affair with drinks going to the Hares, Virginimus Illegitimus and Payling, and Darwin Don for returning safely from yet another 2 month long overseas jaunt. In breaking news we heard, that as we dined, Son of a Gun was receiving the second of his 2 new hips – geez and he’s a youngster.
Quick humour from Pee Dub – lovey, dovey crap from China.