The Sydney Merciful Hareld

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First Run 1967         O N  O N .   A L W A Y S .              Number 2457   August 4, 2014

RUN REPORT – LAVENDER BAY / BROTHER E-SHIT & APOSTLE CHANGI 

Distance: 7.4km /  Walk: 5.6km Elevation Gain: 8.2m/ Calories burnt: 459c

Overflowing like the late Cardinal Clancy’s pallium , Eparch E-Shit with hovering attendant Holy See no Evil Chang-ee, harangued the multitude upon the Mount of Frances, er St Francis Xavier.  “Sanctified by the Papal Francis, and Saint Francis the Sissy, this pilgrimage venerating the Poshdom of the Apostles will take the true believers on a spiritual journey through four key Stations of the Angry—or at least very Cross”, he intoned.   Not Waverton, nor Wollstonecraft, and certainly not St Leonards, but most likely the Star of the Sea (which Brother Goonshowmistakenly took to be the star of the Ensemble by the Sea theatre, Mark Kilmurray).   Mis-guided, of course.  On that fateful pilgrimage, Brothers Bigamist and Captivating Blight and Shit the Little (the Brother that Eparch Shitand Angelic White Shit don’t talk about) paused and were reflected by the harbour lights at Lunatic Fringe Park (tnx LS).

The sacred spot was soon subvened by Bro Baron von Drut and Bother Wrappa and acolytes Bro Frenchie, Archduke Duckweave and Brother XXXXavier, who were soon genuflecting before Abbott Anthony’s home from home before testing the waters of the Squadron (Royal David City of Sydney, that is), before joining Prefect Polish andBro ‘Show to the afore-mentioned First Angry Buoy on the shores of Galilee or Careening Cove.  Novitiates Neat and Nautilus nosed around Neutral Bay’s old sub base before catching Seminarian Maximus Minimus and Mullah Maxwell Ayatollah (only Metropolitan Monsignor Maxwell of Melbourne was missing from this tricky triumvirate).

Further north, following the Star of David, aka Captivating Blight, to encompass all the bright lights of the heavens,Vicar Jack the Ripper and Prelate Poly ascended the sixth of seven hills to emerge above and beyond Warringah Showmethefreeway, to…the second seething Cross, St Mary of Magdalene (who demanded to know of His Grace Goanna and Prelate Polish if they wished to be beatified—or simply to be beaten, as She sweeps as She cleans?).  Escaping St Mary’s supplication, the two, aka Herod and Judas, sped after Brother Bigamist and Shit the Little to find Saint Bumcrack, aka St Thomas, nursing his knee, pissed off if not Angry, that his surgeon had two fingers that were raised in a papal blessing, broken by a 120kmh tennis ball, thus postponing the planned amputation of St Thomas’ leg to enable him to return to the solemn pilgrimage.  And where was Lost Cardinal Louee when we needed him…to augment the puns?

At this point, suffragans Holy Crap Grape and Primate Payling glid down Church and Angelo Streets, with a worshipful detour to pay tribute to Saint Mary McKillop on Mount.  Then, together with Seminarian Maximus andSee on High Centrepoint miraculously took flight at Miller Boulevard to North Sydney Station (wrong!) until Amosand Andy, the Officially Ordained Homeless Person of St Francis Xavier showed them the way and the light to the bucket, and his pallias.  (OOHP Andy said to recent Jenny Craig contestant, Centrepoint that he hadn’t eaten for two days.  CP replied, “lucky bugger, I wish I had your will-power.”).

By way of communion, Eparch the Elder E-Shit proffered sacrifices to the multitude of fish on host (not toast,Brother PeeDub), followed by Little Boys in velvet jackets—extraordinarily tasty and fresh.  The Last Supper began with butter chicken thighs, spread eagled and luscious on naan, prepared in a nearby Indian Call Centre kitchen with the special saffron rice to feed 30 for the price of 50.  Repast came to a catechismic  climax within the conclave with Aldi Kommemorative Kaiser Ice Creams as a salute to the Allies’ Declaration of War, exactly 100 years earlier.  Senior Monseignor Music felt the organ needed a few Hims, and together with Titular TToc enjoined the flaky flock in appropriate gospel presentation of…WWI tunes to mark the Centenary of the Declaration of that Great War (not so great for the 16,000,000 troops slain on both sides).  Like the troops in the trenches that trashed the Western Front the humour was Over The Top—from Archduke Polish, and Priest of the Podium PeeDub, who sensitively offered a Day-Vorce anecdote.  TT asked Music, having just returned from Belgium if he had visited many battlefields. He answered “Somme.” (He could have answered “Psalm”, of course).

With just four Stations of the Angry visited, another 10 were not only cross, they were livid, having been ignored—and so the multitude implored Eparch Elder E-Shit to reprise the pilgrimage if ever the opportunity arose from the sepulchre.

  .PShhh ! Private Posh Notes 

Centrepoint and Bigamist, Last Card, 4X and Music have just returned from touring the battlefields of WWI, and the clayton’s Interhash…all most successful we understand (apart from losing Yakkity in Austria..the other members of the Travelling Hashberries including Jungle, Calici, Smiley, Your Choice, SBends and Crème Puff, and associates Mr & Mrs Scud have alerted the crack brown shirt National Troopers who are concentrating their search for him.   Lost Patrol has suffered a spell on the Spit Bridge to Manly walk, initially thought to be because Bumcrack has managed to bring the boys’ betting pool down to just $2…however LP has received two stents at the San, and is reported in fine form again, and ready to commit to hareing some more runs).  The of course there is Bumcrack himself, waiting for his surgeon’s fingers to heal after a particularly difficult colorectal examination (on someone else)…or if you prefer the true story, see the run report above.