Run No. 2586 – 16th January 2016

Leaving on a jet-plane

This venue is what you call a Bush Run. We drive a kilometre down a bush track to the Warringah Model Aero Club to run a trail in the bush – no bitumen for the bitche(r)s – DILLIGAF
It was a goodly pack of forty plus who headed out and up the concrete driveway to the Slippery Dip Trail, where we met Lightning, who despite living closest to the start was still late. We then turned back down the hill to head off into the bush. Near the back of the pack was Mr Neat being just that – hands behind the back Prince Phil the Greek style as he meandered along.
This was a single file elephant walk before the aforementioned Lightning came charging thru from behind eagerly trying to catch the likes of Flying Scotsman, Cinders and Music Man. Scud was waiting at the short walk split having walked it in reverse (as against walked it backwards).
Carefree who is on the 15/15 Diet (15out/15back) headed back along the out trail at this point. Meanwhile, back at the Airport, Centrepoint was doing the first of his two laps of the runway.
White Shit was the first of the runners back – from the correct direction. He looked far more buggered than the host of runners who did their own thing at the end of the trail.
Then in limped a war torn Kitty Litter all battered and bruised. Seems he had a slight fall of Jack the Ripper proportions (see last week) with a Plunger result (giant egg on his elbow). All of the blood meant the toilet paper trail markings had been used up pretty fast. Ah, we have a first aid kit in the trailer.
The On was held in the terminal – including upgrade – and the Hares dished out Benji Boxes containing Sea Shepherd approved Japanese whale meat and tofu everything else – bloody tofu. After dinner Ayatollah moved quietly around the crowd thoughtfully blocking the glare from the landing lights.

At the Presidents call the Hares received a Down while Kitty Litter lurked around desperate for a drink and 777 got a Down for a light pole – looked fuckin’ heavy to me.
Displaying yet another vast cross-section of society the jokes included a winking, kiss-throwing, whistling vagina; engineers and lawyers in hell with a satin clothed Satan; a hashman in a casket; and a disbarred vet who slept with his clients.

Then the sports cars of Jock the Sock and 777 tackled the goat track back to Morgan Rd.

Did you check out Happy Hour at the servo on Warringah Rd, Roseville Bridge?

On On

Bigamist