Run 1840
Date : 4th 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.