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.