Run 1832
Date : 10 December 2012
Hare : Head Job
Venue : The Spit
Runners 32
Weeks to the end of free birthday beers – 3.

A rather unexpected large group of 32 members gathered under the threat of showers at the far end of the Spit, with most anticipating a stuff up of a trail that could only go one way.

The psychology was to have the group believe that there was something of a surprise involved, having to pay during the run and receive an indelible mark to enable members to enter the “next place”.  Was it going to be a restaurant somewhere, a fish & chip maybe; maybe a boat cruise? It was of course a hoax to ensure that all went at least as far as the drink stop, some 5 -6 klms round trip. And it worked.

THE RUN: Head job introduced 6 logs to the group with the instructions that the 30 odd runners and walkers were to be divided into 6 groups, with each group managing one log which had to be delivered to the Drink Stop, where the $15 would be collected. A character “team building” exercise was the theory. Luckily the logs were riddled with borer holes and not too heavy.

The trail headed off to the beach and went under the sand-pumping jetty then back up to the gravel trail that snakes its way through the scrub between the ocean and asphalt road (Seaworld Dr.). The 4 -5 carriers of each log quickly broke down to 2 and in most cases one after Two Dogs decided to forego his weekly kung fu training and set a cracking pace. Some competition gathered between several groups. Pile Driver, Jigsaw, Caustic, Rockhard and others were actually jogging much of the way.

Blackie made the wise move and promptly dumped his log in the nearby dumpster, thinking that his team mates might collect it. They did not. After about 25 minutes of punishment the first group arrived at the  Pizza sponsored drink spot, where Flasher was smugly waiting with his usual claim of being first there. Ok Flasher, but where’s your fk’n log?

The smartest team arrived having completed the whole trail carrying their log with 2 slings below, sharing the weight among 4. A shat of an idea!  After 2 -3 beers the GM cancelled the remainder of the run (the long run) and all headed back, Caustic and BB along the gravel trail and the remainder straight down the asphalt road making the time away just oven one hour.

THE NOSH:  With wise use of the trailer the food was ready in record time.  The banquet was presented around a long collection of tables and hash chairs, set in the middle of the large car park. Just like the Sound of Silence dinners at Uluru.

Well it could have been silent if Pizza stayed at home! First there were nibblies followed by perfectly cooked white rice with a chilly seasoned concoction of beef mince and onions which some liked; some didn’t. The dessert was small fruit mince-meat tarts with cream and a raspberry on top – very tasty as long as you didn’t eat the alum. foil they came in.

THE CIRCLE:  Caustic was handed the first down down for talking and showing no respect for the GM, then the hare Head Job and the beer sponser Pizza were called out. Shat spoke convincingly in favour of the Run and suggested it become an annual event; score 10/10, but with a sly deceitful grin.

The nosh was considered very tasty and was liked by batchelor Truck Tyres and he scored it 7.5/10. A good effort for a first-time hare with little assistance. It was suggested to Pizza that maybe his next sponsored brew be the crowd favourite – his black beer.

Returners Platypus ex Darwin and Mother Brown, not too sure where he’s from or why he is here  were given DDs.

RA caught Pile Driver and VD having a chat and leaning on a truck and were accordingly punished. He also extracted a couple of jokes from the circle.

He called the POW several times and eventually Mohomad El Flash-Her appeared in full jihad regalia.  Mohamod was very loud and threatening and looked the part with his head cover, long black beard, white outfit and bombs around his waist.

However we realised that it was only Flasher when Mohamod set out his prayer mat in the wrong direction. As most know poor Mohamad damaged his thumb last week when Ferrett tried to pull his pants down and a schuffle commenced, however in his belignerent state for some reason Moh. thought it was our beloved RA and handed the prick, with suitable CDs on Islam and the holy Koran to secure his spiritual salvation, to Circumference.

The RA succumbed gracefully under Mohamod’s  loud screams of guilty, guilty, guilty, it was you infidel, you infidel. I will blow us all up!

 ANNOUNCEMENTS:

 Christmas Party next Monday. Arrive 1700 behind Broadbeach Convention Centre for 1730 start. Any visitors $100; otherwise $25 for regular runners.

No RUN Xmas eve.

An early start 1700 on New Years Eve somewhere in Broadbeach. Ladies welcome, with free glass of champagne.

Splinter Lunch Friday 28th December. Reserve your seat at the table

Just as at the beginning of the Circle, serial interjector Caustic was given a closing DD for trying to set up his 80 year old mother, who is about to visit the Coast, with any willing Hasher of whom he claimed there were many of similar age!

The Moonbeams imposter Josephine closed the Circle at 2055.

Thanks Head Job for a memorable evening and Pizza for the free piss.

All the above is the gospel truth, as remembered by Turpin Sorenob aka Bent Banana

 

 

 

 

Run 1831
Date : 3rd December 2012
Hare : Kitchen Bitch
Venue : Trees Road, Tallebudgera
Runners 30

Weeks to someone else compiling this detritus – 27ish

Travelling down the motorway en-route to what seemed to be a sheep station somewhere in the outback, the radio announced that a particularly bad weather cell was approaching the venue from NSW. A quick check showed this to be the case; dark brooding and ominous clouds littered the horizon, illuminated briefly by spikes of lightning.

A ‘U’ turn seemed most favourable, but us hashers are made from sterner stuff than that. On arrival I saw that numbers were still high despite the imminent down pour, vehicles parked under trees sheltering from the likelihood of hail.

Out hare, arrived close to the time of departure and set us off into the greenery with rather inchoate directions. The trail appeared well marked at first with a few false trails but then, rather like a Chinese firework, which promises so much then splutters and dies with a sound similar to a fat man farting, it died on its arse (with some serious and lengthy searching required to find it again). These sections appeared to have been set on a bike, probably a Yami R1 or Honda Blackbird.

We were accosted by a local who informed us we were on private land, but, “it didn’t matter” so why bother telling us then dickhead?

We ran into a paddock, over a culvert, through a field and yet again the trail died. A message was received from the gods informing us to return to our cars or risk drowning. To say the rain was monsoonal would be an understatement. Fortunately none of us succumbed to neither lightning bolts nor large hail and after a regroup at the car park we reconvened to the bitch residence.

“Oh what a night” could have been the theme tune; first weather that Noah would have baulked at, then epicurean delights fit for a king. The smell of rosemary infused lamb roasting, flooded the nasal passages on the short climb up the verandah, the steady drip, drip was either raindrops or drooling hashers.

The feast began with roast sesame and cucumber salad, cherry tomatoes and steamed dim-sims (had permission been sought from Sir Prince for breaching his ingredient copyright?). The roast lamb was expertly carved and served drizzled with a caramelized onion and berry compote, served alongside herb-roasted potatoes, roast pumpkin, roast garlic, garden peas and bread rolls.

Dessert was presented in Master Chef style, cream cheese, Icing sugar and biscuit crumb parcels lying under mango slices, ice cream, biscuit crumbs and mango/passion fruit sauce. Several members of the pack commented that Kitchen Bitch would not be getting voted off tonight.

And so began the most entertaining circle for some time, DD for KB as Hare who was presented an elaborate fishing game.

Comments – Miscarriage stated “lovely run, missing street signs, no idea where I
was, grumpy private property owner” 8/10
– Sir AH stated “ KB has really lifted the bar, I’m glad it wasn’t fish, the food was touching ten/10” a general consensus ensued.

Returners – Miscarriage – Palm Island/Japan where 13,000 yen equates to
fifteen minutes
– Rock Hard – taken up gay artistic ballet

Crocodile informed one and all regarding KB’s generous offer for Ferret to call in for a coffee and then proceeding to go out, DD for KB, also how Pizza had driven the length of Trees road with the beer tap open, hence no drinks stop, DD to Pizza, who not to be outdone, topped up the drink from his own whilst drinking, this could be identified by the vertical red stripe on the front of his shirt.

The GM then iced the RA (that’s the kind of committee we are, well except the GM who let the RA have his DD) for an abysmal attempt at controlling the weather. The removal of Daks was insisted upon by Flasher.

POW, Botcho (you didn’t deserve that) selected the following candidates and asked the pack to vote – VD; email on Tassy list, Rockhard; naturism on the verandah and Flasher for taking a ride in the hare’s car.

Its not often people cheer for Flasher, but by god it was like the winning goal at a grand final. True to form, Flasher spit the dummy, throwing his DD on many, especially his mate Botcho and was handed the baby feeder. Poor form from an ex GM.

Crocodile, who seems to be increasingly enjoying the spotlight, took to the stage for an encore performance and charged Caustic for purposely ringing him whilst Mast%rbating and trying to make out another was in the room. Head Job immediately CAME to Caustics defence, you could say he really got behind him, and confirmed he was present also. DD for rule infringements if for nothing else. Rockhard is taking them both to the ballet next week.

Don’t forget – Xmas run 17th December meeting at rear of the convention centre, 5pm.

Apologies from Miscarriage who will be having a black Christmas and Rectum who will be leaving you in the capable hands of Croc.

Next weeks run – End of the spit – pay as you run? – drink as you run – a definite debarcle in the making, I will be laughing at you all from Koh Samui.

End of circle by Josephine.
.

Big Thanks for a memorable evening to everyone who pitched in and particularly to KB for pushing the gourmet envelope.

On On

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

Run 1830
Date : 26th November 2012
Hare : VD
Venue : Goodwin Terrace, Burleigh Heads
Runners 30 ish

Another great turnout at the picture perfect venue of Burleigh Heads. Against the backdrop of a setting sun over a gently stirring ocean, the pack assembled. Amidst the polite chatter of conversation and friendly greetings, we prepared to embark on a trail, which was described in very few words from our Hare.

Enjoying the warmth of a late spring evening cooled by a light sea breeze we trotted away towards to the obligatory Burleigh hill to be confronted by the first of several checks. The trail circumnavigated the base of the hill emerging on the highway and leading into Koala Park.

A few twists and turns later, a check offered the choice of up the hill or onto the nature trail. Following the hill trail I eventually hit the compulsory ‘what the hell does that marking mean?’, looked further found nothing, came back to the check to find I had been left adrift.

The trail followed the nature trail, with some very intermittent arrows, into a car park which lead to what I believe is West Burleigh road, without torch and with an ever decreasing quantity of arrows I landed at Reedy Creek road, where Truck Tyres pointed the way on.

Two streets later with no arrows evident I gave it up as a bad job, found Reedy Creek and chalked up my own ‘On Home’. The 8.6km I enjoyed, the trail not so much.

Back at the base camp the grill on the Hash trailer was being put to good use, heating up the horses douvers; namely huge snags served in bread with accompaniments. Fearing a repeat of Pizza’s ‘If you like the starter, you’re going to love the mains’ debarcle, a degree of hesitancy was evident by those returning to the grill for round two. No such bad luck, a small poultry had farm had been slaughtered to provide a massive stack of schnitzel which were served as burgers, very tasty, very fresh and lots of it. Dessert was served but for the life of me I cant remember what it was.

Appetites sated, the GM brought circle to bear, asking why we had ‘puffta arrows’ in the middle of the road.

Platypus stated ” very good run, but longer than am I used to, well marked” 8/10

Culinary critique was left in the hands of Iceman “not premier but alright, no beetroot, but dessert a change from ice cream”

Visitors/Returners – Platypus – Darwin, with us for a while yet, poor sod
Rocks off – pissed off after the food
Crocodile – grandpa duties yapoon
Head Job – no idea can’t understand a word he says

Reminder to all – Cocktail Party tonight, over 50 on the books (that’s numbers not age) Flavours, Brickworks, Ferry Road

DD head job, mobile phone in circle

The RA brought out Flasher for an explanation re the Salt and Pepper as a currency incident, then Botcho and Rectum for DD’s due to a complete misunderstanding.

Shat invaded the circle to enlighten us re the shenanigans at splinter lunch, including Jigsaws free salad and meal no-show (DD given) and to present a present to the present GM, a bomb-chuckers hat, very nice. Trying a little one-up-manship Crocodile brought out his pressy, an animal hide wine bottle holder (doesn’t everyone have one?) so when the bomb is chucked at least the GM will have a receptacle for the appropriate libation.

POW Blue Card selected Pizza (gourmet food), Flasher (dummy spit), Rug (banking without a licence), Botcho ( stolen funds) (bizarre oath taken). Botcho took the high ground and swallowed his pride (and the drink) just to stop another dummy spit from Flasher.

Next weeks run, Kitchen Bitch at Tallebudgera (somewhere near Perth apparently)

Iceman, AKA Jerry Seinfeld, catholic joke

End of circle

Thanks to VD and assistants

On On

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

Friday 28th December Splinter Lunch: Reserve your seat at the table here