Run 2027
Date:29/08/2016
Location: Mermaid Waters
Hare: Truckie, AH, Slug & Caustic
Hashers: 69
HARE – Slug ,Truck Tyres AH, and Caustic Crusader
Sixty-nine (69) {English}, Soixante Neuf {French}, whatever you prefer is the cardinal number between 68 and preceding 70 This number certainly took our hash to a all time stratosphere at this run with Jigsaw who was born on 6/9 having his last run as a sixty-nine year old and 69 hashers participating in this event. Co-ordinate terms such as cunnilingus, fellatio and cluster fuck were some of the thoughts that went through the brains of hashers as these numbers flashed up before them.
The evening started without a welcome to all our visitors as one of the hares in his excitement to get things moving gave directions as to where walkers and runners should go.Near the soccer fields the runners went south and the walkers north. Somehow the hares had co-ordinated the run so well that the runners coming home past the tennis courts arrived as the walkers wandered in through the pine forest. Dicky Knee, Flasher and Bent Banana soon had the bar open for the thirsty Monday hashers and Sir AH and his kitchen bitches served the entrees of dips, cheese, ham and cabanossi.
Truck Tyres and Shat were flipping sausages and rissoles while Slug, Ferret and Sir AH got the salads and breads prepared. It didn’t take like before Sir Blackie sniffed out
the aroma from the BBQ and got a queue going to line up for the main meal. There were so many rissoles to consume, it looked they would be part of the down downs in the circle. Shat did a few rounds of the tables where the now very quite dining hashers were dining to do some rissole top ups. Slug helped out the Qld strawberry producers with a bulk buy of their product and topped it off with ice cream for dessert.
The GM soon had a working bee putting the tables and chairs away in readiness for the circle. The hare team were up first followed by welcoming representatives of visiting hash groups including multi hasher, our own Iceman. Ms Wally of Border Hash said – it was a fantastic, fucking run and a multiple rissole fuelled Sir Rabbit labelled the excellent hamburgers as a 9-10 rating.
Weekly wanted to say the walk was brilliant as well, because as it was a replica of a recent Brewtus one in that vicinity, he considered that the imitation of it was the sincerest form of flattery by all those involved.
RA Shat wandered in with a couple bags of ice and they placed on a esky and invited Weekly to plant his cheeks on such. It was then demonstrated by Weekly in a not quite Torville and Dean moment why Australia don’t win many medals on the ice at the Winter Olympics.
Arse Up, our hasher, watched as weekly went that way as punishment for doing a CRAFT not paying for his meal runner from the last Splinter lunch. When he regained his composure, he invited any of the hash ladies if they wanted to join him for a spin. The ever alert not to miss the moment Dicky Knee decided to cash in and award the POW to the now frozen Weekly who made an oath that in future he will pay for his meals in advance.
The Brisbane hashers who made the visit were awarded a drink for their bravery in attending in light of recent M1 snipers and pile ups. As Sex on Legs is heading off to Pommie Land, her well known layer, sorry brick layer Pizza, in his absence, wished her farewell by using his stand-in proxy, Cheesy Pizza. Both enjoyed a down down.
Miscarriage stepped in with a charge for Sir Blackie calling him Mr Rectinol, the name on the back of his chair. This meant that he was much more than a regular arsehole.
As the clock headed towards 10 pm, the GM asked Ferret to close RPR 12. That just meant the circle was over, not the evening, for some hashers intent on forming a Thirsty Monday hash by drinking the bucket dry.
HERE’S SOMTHING TO THINK ABOUT
Word has it that one of our recently new single hashers recently picked a new doctor for a check-up.
After two visits and exhaustive blood tests, the doctor said he was doing ‘fairly well’ for his age. (He has just reached 65).
A little concerned about that comment, he couldn’t resist asking him, ‘Do you think I’ll live to be 85 ?
He asked, ‘Do you smoke tobacco, or drink beer, wine or other hard liquor ?
‘Oh not much grog these days, except some monthly lunches at Cavs and I don’t smoke’ – he replied. ‘And I’m not doing drugs, either ! ‘
Then the doctor asked, ‘Do you eat Cav’s rib-eye steaks,barbecued ribs and fatty roasts ?
I said, ‘Not much anymore as my former doctor said that eating all that red meat is very unhealthy ! ‘
‘Do you spend a lot of time in the sun, like at the beach, playing golf, boating, sailing, surfing, hiking, or bicycling ? – the doctor enquired.’
‘No, I don’t,’ he said.
He asked, ‘Do you gamble, drive fast cars, or chase women to have a lots of sex ? ‘
‘No,’ he said.
The doctor then looked at him and said, ‘Then, why the fuck do you want to live to 85 for ?
Because as politicians who don’t actually live in the real world and have their head in the sand,
well they reckon that I will have to work until I am 70, if I can find an employer, so I want to at least have few years to do those things !
Yours in hashing
CIRCUMFERENCE