Plunger Pulls the Plug
Like moths to a gas lamp hashmen appeared from the fading evening gloom for their annual migration and ‘knees-up’ at the Roseville Scout Hall. All familiar faces although like lemmings a few mooching reprobates came to pay homage and their subs to help keep the hash coffers in good shape.
Our Good Shepherd for the year (AKA) Plunger warned us to have our lamps ready for: –
“Yea, though we walk and jog walk through the valleys and hills of the shadow of death, hashmen will fear no evil: For Plunger art with us; his rod, staff and lamp, they comfort us and lead us to the well of sustenance (AKA the bucket) (sic).
Which he has been doing for the last 52 weeks…well almost ….as the poor old bugger had to take a few weeks off to have a 10,000 kilometre service on his knee. Attended to by our resident knife and scalpel wielder; the SH3’s very own Dr Jekyll.
Thus with dire warning to carry our lamps held high, we dribbled off into the dark following the Good Shepherd’s chalked arrows and calls to keep the flock together. Fat Chance! The anarchistic flock will always have their own way. There’s always some know-it-all-bastard who thinks, or occasionally actually does know, where the trail leads. And so it led us through genteel Roseville Chase suburbia, past plenty of palatial homes the likes of which are long forgotten real estate aspirations to most of the pursuing flock,. Bar one….Maison de Pee Dub.
A few more streets and a couple of reserves later found us back at the bucket and when Plunger the Good Shepherd returned he was overheard muttering that his dash being done and it was time that some other poor bastard carried the chalk, map and lamp to guide the good flock “through the valleys and hills” surrounding Sydney. In other words Plunger pulled the plug on us.
The AGM run was really just a pre-lube for the promised party with more excitement (or is the excrement?) and entertainment than can be found in the whole of Las Vegas. Every fading president makes swell promises which they know cannot be fulfilled …but do they care?. We will never know.
What we do know is that after our help-yourself, more-than-you-can-eat, clean-it-up-yourself dinner, the in-house Hash House Dance & Musical Troupe, like WWII lime light loving, board strutting exhibitionists, gave us a specially written musical rendition to bid a fond? (sic) farewell to Last Card Louis and his very merry men. But where was the real entertainment? Many of us have seen and heard similar SH3 pantomimes and wondered when the REAL show would begin.
Just as hopes were fading in drifted an apparition far too graceful for anything Hash grown. Besides the high silver platform shoes under a pair of silver wings were a dead give-away. The real show commenced!
Starting with a bit of Turkish delight belly dancing, our tribal elder of the hash took full opportunity to rub his facade into her groin and boobs. Only Darwin is afforded such exotic luxuries. E-shit definitely wanted to, and even tried, but he is strictly FORBIDDEN!
The then President-elect Darwin Don quality controls the entertainment mistress .Miss Yummy Yasmin
So Miss Silicon Tits strutted her stuff to the rhythm of pulsating music, eventually getting so hot that she felt compelled to slip off a few items of her skimpy apparel and down to her dental floss undies.
Calls for “Open the Box,…Open your Box”, were ignored or not heard under the shouts and whistles of 90 dirty old men. Soon the funds for “Hang the Expense” as promised by the fleeing President for the AGM entertainment program ran out and there and then a coup d’état took place on the stage and a new junta has taken over this SH3 rabble
Your Hash Journo
Next Week’s Run, 17 September 2012, Run No. 2359 brought to you by Duck Weave.
OBJECTIVE:
Nepal, the Himalaya and Everest revisited. Mountain passes, high plateau, majestic views, deep gorges, porters, yaks, dung heaps and more (bring torches, you wouldn’t want to step in one!)
WHERE:
Nicholson Street Car park, Crows Nest, off Shirley Road
ON ON:
Mustang Nepalise, 332 Pacific Hwy Crows Nest. Just 200m from Base Camp.
Authentic Nepalise Makan, served by ‘Nepalise Goddesses’, fermented red, rose and white grape juice from select high altitude vineyards, quality authenticated by Duckweave!
BE THERE!!!!!!
No claims will be entertained for misrepresentation in any of the above.
Nothing like real life commentary from the London Olympics
1. Weightlifting commentator:
“This is Gregoriava from Bulgaria. I saw her snatch this morning during her warm up and it was amazing
2. Dressage commentator:
“This is really a lovely horse and I speak from personal experience since I once mounted her mother.”
3. Paul Hamm, Gymnast:
“I owe a lot to my parents, especially my mother and father.”
4. Boxing Analyst:
“Sure there have been injuries and even some deaths in boxing, but none of them really that serious.”
5. Softball announcer:
“If history repeats itself, I should think we can expect the same thing again.”
6. Basketball analyst:
“He dribbles a lot and the opposition doesn’t like it. In fact you can see it all over their faces.”
7. At the rowing medal ceremony:
“Ah, isn’t that nice, the wife of the IOC president is hugging the cox of the British crew.”
8. Soccer commentator:
“Julian Dicks is everywhere. It’s like they’ve got eleven Dicks on the field.”
9. Tennis commentator:
“One of the reasons Andy is playing so well is that, before the final round, his wife takes out his balls and kisses them…Oh my God, what have I just said?”
