Run 1842
Date : 18th February 2013
Hare : Caustic Crusader
Venue : Crown Green Bowling Club, Kalimna Court, Gold Coast
Runners 23ish

Weeks to Cum Smoke, the front running bastard – 10

For weeks now, Caustic has been dropping hints about just how good this run was to be. Still on a high from his last Reedy Creek outing big things were expected and so he looked distinctly crestfallen when we all met at an alternate venue due to the anticipated precipitation.

No Botcho tonight, taking the GM’s wife out for her birthday.

Yes, it was wet and had been for several days, the skies were decidedly ominous and the appearance of several hashers in anoraks lead no one to the impression that they might dodge the onslaught. That is, excepting the hare, who decided to avoid getting his hair wet running a live hare and instead stay at the club drinking.

Unperturbed, at least ten of us hardy souls embarked Northbound with a variety of intentions regarding route and duration. Dashing to the front Miscarriage trotted off to a fine pace and lead us all up the garden path, well more along the canal shoreline, as the rains began their steady decent.

After climbing over numerous slippery jetties, boat lines and other injury threatening obstacles we emerged back at the original start point, despite having completed less than a kilometre, this was clearly the hint for the peloton to ‘right turn Clyde’ back into the warm, dry and alcohol laden venue.

That left only the die-hards (or idiots if you prefer) Miscarriage, Two Dogs, the GM and myself; to continue under bundall road, around Albert park, back down Monaco Street and on home. A mere 5.37 km according to the dogs GPS gismo, but enjoyable none the less

The edges of our thirsts were slaked on a cold one outside the venue after which we all reunited inside the bowls club. As I entered the premises a question formed in my mind – “Why the hell had Caustic chosen this place for the run?”
As I ordered my drink from the bar it was obvious that there were two reasons, two very big reasons in fact.

That reminds me, two blokes in a pub, one returns from the bar very red faced. His mate asks ‘what’s up’.
“Well, you see the barmaid”
‘The one with the low cut top and huge t#ts?”
‘Yes, I meant to ask her for two pints of bitter, but by mistake I asked for two pints of titter’
“Don’t worry about it” replied his mate “It’s a Freudian slip, I do it all the time. Sunday morning I was having breakfast with the wife, I put down the paper and I meant to say can you pass me the milk please”
‘What did you actually say’?
“You make my life a f$cking misery”

The venue-arranged-food, either chicken schnitzel or seafood equivalent, was served in an adjacent dining room that looked as though it belonged in an old folks home. The only things missing were the strong odour of piss and a creepy guy to clean the drool of your chin.

Despite this, the food was more than adequate, fresh, tasty, good quality and best of all cheap. Flasher please note the appearance of non-Italian gravy – one containing garlic, salt, pepper and flavour.

During the meal I was asked if I knew where Cum Smoke was, as he has not made an appearance since before Christmas (and his Asia trip) I can only presume that either the antibiotics are not kicking in yet or he is in serious training. After all, he laid the gauntlet firmly at my feet several months ago when he took up his boxercise class with the intention of “smashing them on the Wednesday Hash, then giving you a run for your money” Bring it on.

Circle convened by the GM, as Kitchen Bitch attempted, rather poorly, to reduce the volume on the TV. Technology and the aged just don’t mix. (that’s what happens when you sell the last of the eggs)

The GM invited the Hare out and explained that the venue had been changed as Caustic had no head cover. You could try Advanced hair studios as it worked for Warnie.

Miscarriage, with tongue firmly in cheek, commented the run was well marked, good calling from the front.

Returner – Phantom – who has been here every Monday apparently
Miscarriage – on Palm Island (is that a metaphor for w%nking?)

RA’s corner – self-imposed DD for the rain, DD to Flasher for abuse re venue change.

Joke by Croc, which is currently enjoying its bicentennial celebrations.

POW, Kitchen Bitch took aim at most of the pack –

Caustic – for taking Pizzas shower wall gyprock
Miscarriage – large appendage
Flasher – for contents of POW bag
Rectum and Rug – soap dodging
Anyone encouraging migrants

Finally Miscarriage was chosen but a proxy was required as he wont be here next week. The proxy was elected as Sir Rabbit, who, incidentally had contributed most to KB getting it in the first place. Possibly a coincidence.

Next Weeks Run – Sir Rabbit at the newly renovated Rabbits Bar and Grill, Southport

Best wishes to Rock Hard, the current owner of 14 stitches due to causes unknown. Husbands find out eventually.

DD to Link for the hoax email, which he claimed was passed on in good faith (like AIDS? – Caustic)

Sir Prince currently basking in a 7degree heat wave on the homeland. Don’t forget to send him as many emails as possible whilst he is away, to make him feel as though he was missed when he gets back. You can get him on [email protected]

End of Circle by Josephine as Moonbeams was sporting a sore throat (and hangover)

Thanks to the barmaid for brightening up a dull night.

On On

Rectum
Hang On a Sec
Don’t believe a word of it.

Run 1840
Date : 11th February 2013
Hare : Flasher
Venue : Tamworth Drive, Helensvale
Runners 31ish

Weeks to the delivery of my Cuban cigar – 6

Work intervened in my Hashing once more, so I was a little tardy in arriving at the venue. Consequently all I saw was the backs of the walkers heading up a grassy knoll with the words of Flasher hanging behind me on the gentle breeze. They were “I did this run just for you Rectum”.

Up the never ending hill some ran, some trudged and the rest wheezed. Over the top we emerged by the Movie World junction of the M1 where we crossed under the flyover. The trail, which was well marked, pointed off towards Wet and Wild hugging the motorway before indicating right into the depths of the salubrious Studio Village.

Skirting a fence line I had made my way to the pointy end of the pack and reached the first of a large number of checks. After finding no solution to the first two suggested directions I returned to the check and was a little puzzled as to where the rest of the pack were. Never saw the short cutting b#st%rds again.

Persevering on, I climbed more hills than Julie Andrews and being a cast of one, I had the privilege of searching out each and every check, becoming steadily more disheartened. Finally the trail lead back parallel to Binstead way at which point I observed the pedestrian bridge back over the motorway, beckoning to me like a mermaid on the rocks.

Once over the bridge, the trail lead along an ankle-breaking track suitable for Chamois or Range Rovers only. Sensing that home was not far away I began the climb towards the water tower, by now it was profoundly dark and without torch (yes I am an idiot) it wasn’t long before I was lost. As I began the descent from the tower I realized that even Bear Grylls would have given this route a miss. Thankfullly a kind citizen with a torch assisted me back to Discovery Drive, so I began the final 1k home. 10.94km according to Google earth.

It wasn’t long before I came across the massive search party, which was looking in earnest for me. They were eating at the venue, but just about to start looking.

Somebody once warned me about Flashers food, I think it was his wife, but when you are cold and hungry anything will do. Or so I thought. There was bread, noodles and a thin gravy containing copious quantities of beef, onions, bacon?, water chestnuts? The mixture had been cleverly cooked so that all the flavour was missing.

Dessert appeared to be some form of savoury mince and carrots with a béchamel topping. Flasher claimed it was trifle, if so it must have been inspired by Heston Blumenthal. Botcho polished his dish-full off, so it cant have been too bad.

Circle called (many times) the run was christened the ‘Inaugural Helensvale Shit House Run’ due to the vicinity of the local crapper. KB commented, “In that case the food was directly proportional to the location”

KB stated that the run was marked to perfection, Croc said that he had “walked the run” whilst Moonbeams gave the juxtaposition “I ran the walk”

A general onslaught by all was made in the direction of the food comments – Ferret “better than the corned beef and cabbage, but not much”, Rectum “the carrots were very tender”. Flasher retorted with the explanation that it was a true Italian dish: hence no garlic. Botcho Inquired if Italians use herbs and Moonbeams added do Italians use salt and pepper. Caustic felt the closest comparison to Italy was that it tasted like a roman thong. Rock Hard questioned if that was a G banger.

DD to Josephine by the GM for “shortest short cut”

Returners

Moonbeams – St Tropez and Thailand
Blue Card – not interesting
Point Two – honing crown green skills

Visitors

Mother Brown – visiting UK, NZ
Ring Master – first hash in Australia
Kurt – Annual bludging at the GM’s
Botcho – for no apparent reason brought the GM a present (this weeks suckworth)

What’s a suckworth? According to Link about $35

RA’s moment in the spotlight, whilst travelling to hash last week saw a hasher in training – DD to Veteran for failing to secure transport to hash.
Aussie, sporting a ‘proud to be Aussie’ T-shirt proudly driving a new Japanese car.
DD to Ken, virgin runner, found us through the website, yes it does work.
Lengthy build up to Flasher getting a DD for supply of a banned hash liquid – Gossips wine.
DD to Croc for new shoes although Josephine’s looked much newer.

POW Caustic informed us that the mountain biking contingent were embarrassed somewhat when Shat, attempting a skid stop, was thrown from his machine, removing bark from the elbow and breaking a toe. Whilst the café full of patrons indicated scores a la ice-skating, Shat hurriedly remounted, set off and once more hit the tarmac halfway across the promenade, leaving one spectator to comment “should that man be riding a bike at his age?” I feel the pride may take longer to heal than the toe.

Do we really need this on our trash report Caustic. Not a pretty sight

Back to the POW, which meta-morphasised in to the Prick of Truth. This was Caustic’s attempt to ascertain who had turned the gas supply off, causing Flashers food to stop cooking and prompting an explosion (directed at Caustic) by Flasher that Krakatoa would have been proud of.

Sir Rabbit was fingered and in true ‘sir’ style (remember Slab from the other week) he immediately rolled and identified KB as the culprit. KB took it on the chin and quaffed the ale in good fashion.

Next weeks run Caustic at S.W. Labrador (Reedy Creek)

End of Circle by Moonbeams

Thanks to Flasher for a very long hilly run, no complaints here and for the unusual food choice, which he did by himself not as a team of six.

On On

Rectum
Hang On a Sec
Don’t believe a word of it.

Run 1840

Date : 4^th February 2013

Hare : Testicles and Grand Canyon

Venue : Virginia Grove, Southport

Runners 28ish

Weeks to the end of my thumb regenerating – 3?

Finally we get to run 1839 after last weeks attempt failed due to Mother Nature. Before we pile into the run report, lets not forget the excellent splinter lunch and golf day for those who could, held at Botcho’s Pizza Palace. Another fabulous turn out and food to satisfy the most discerning of diners. Once the clouds had cleared and visibility returned, you could even see the mountains of Montana from Helensvale.

Well it started as a happy re-union at the home of one of the Thirsty Thursday Harrierettes and finished with most of us in fits of laughter. After a week’s hiatus thanks to the gods, many arrived with the best intentions of getting a run in this week – I observed both Kitchen Bitch and Pizza donning the trainers, would it be a walk or a run? Apparently neither, just getting the feet comfy for drinking.

Whilst awaiting the arrival of the pack, Missing link chauffeured several Hashers to the venue in what appeared to be the Mystery Machine from Scooby Doo. Clearly Link was Shaggy, Caustic was a passable Fred; Swindler could only be Velma, which left Head Job as Scooby himself.

It was a beautiful and gusty evening on the coast as our hare Testicles gave a word for word rendition of the run preamble from last weeks Thirsty Thursday Hash run. Having already inquired if it was to be an identical run I was informed NO its at least 30% different. Wish I had been scribe then as a quick ‘cut and paste’ would have saved me half an hour tonight.

For the benefit of those who were not there last Thursday, the trail meandered from the venue in the general direction of Ferry road, where, taking our lives in our hands, we crossed, ran alongside a storm drain, through several streets, back over Ferry road and more or less directly back to the venue. The trail was clearly marked but had little in the way of checks and was lacking in duration. 24 minutes and it was all over, although a healthy pace was maintained. Good effort by the runners and nice to see Mumbles back in the fold.

Whilst awaiting the food an open bar was announced, the GM shouting everyone free beers, yes that’s the kind of committee we are. One that bribes your loyalty. Politics looms.

The freebies didn’t stop there, arising from his bed at 3.30am, the GM had personally been out prawn fishing and had cooked the catch for our hors deuvres.

The food was served. At this point I normally use words such as gourmet, epicurean, smorgasbord or shit burgers (in the case of Josephine’s runs) but these fail to hit the mark when describing the sumptuous feast that was laid before us.

A plethora of delicacies assaulted the eyes, beetroot, bean salad, asparagus, salami, fresh leg ham, olives, mixed salad with feta, carrot, pasta salad, potato salad and a delicious stuffed chicken dish. Words fail me.

Circle brought to bear by the birthday boy who was given in impromptu hashy birthday.

Testicles summoned and would have been placed on the ice but there wasn’t enough (makes a change from the beer and wine)

Flasher stated “ a very good run but done the week before” 8.3/10. This score was met with distain by most. The GM stated that the food was in the running for nosh of the year and that a voucher could be on the way (Ferret suggested one from the back of a Coles docket)

Returners –

Pizza, had been in Melbourne which is why you could only hear him faintly over the last two weeks.

Swindler, baby-sitting in Cambodia, this lead to cries of “some call that pedophilia”

Leaver – Head Job – travelling to Europe/Sydney/Christmas Island, the GM left

him with the parting words “the good news is that you’re not coming back”

The powerless RA took the lead and brought out Ferret who gave us the opinion that ‘The hierarchy is a bunch of sucks for cancelling last weeks run” He was given a DD for his lengthy diatribe. PS who gets sued when someone dies under a fallen tree when the authorities have told everyone to stay indoors?

DD to Hard On for a particularly horrible hash shirt lent by Pizza.

Pile Driver gave us an update on his extensive ankle injury, which has fortunately improved so much he has reduced the size of the bandage. It currently looks like mismatched socks.

Sir Slab was thanked for generously bringing mangoes, which had actually been brought by Kitchen Bitch.

Caustic informed all of his role as a test pilot for mental health issues, of course this lead to a feeble punch line I cant even be bothered to type.

Flasher having another senior moment was brought out by Ferret for a DD due to lost property; unfortunately Ferret then used the moment to locate some of his own lost property and was given a DD for his troubles.

KB has found some underwear which suspects as Rock Hard’s, surprisingly there were no takers.

POW Nasty asked his bromance mate Head Job to chose a recipient. Most hashers grabbed chairs, cushions and blankets to get comfy, as this was likely to take some time. Head Job selected –

Rectum – for rightly asking how the Welsh rugby team had done against the Irish

Jigsaw – worried about not getting home in time for the Q and A program

KB – for a comment about a fat arse/gut

Sir Rabbit – not really sure why

Caustic (you were always going to get it) – for the following comments-

“I have only been awarded the prick once this year”

“You big fat Welsh Lesbian” (inaccurate comment, Head Job is not really big)

Caustic came out on top.

DD to Rectum for 100 runs.

Blackie came second at this week’s competition prompting the suggestion that he should take out his wallet before running.

Pizza, who had entertained well throughout the evening, went out on a low note by murdering another joke.

Next Weeks run – Flasher at Tamworth and Discovery Drive.

DD to Flasher and Ferret again, you just can’t keep good men down.

Moonbeams currently working on his overseas home.

Circle ended by Josephine who has clearly been practicing at home.

I would like to thank Testicles for asking Grand Canyon to do the food, top job.

On On

Rectum

Hang On a Sec

Don’t believe a word of it.

Dear Botcho
Please advise our beloved GCMH3 members that we are thinking of them in this time of crisis.
We have just convened our emergency meeting here and have concluded that we can’t do very much for you all except drink more beer and red wine and say FU to you all.

On On

MC Link Magician and Swindler on tour