GARBAGE FOR 9th August - Vasie - 67 Atlantis St, Burwood ( - a birth run)

GARBAGE FOR

The garbage this week will be short.. I had made very extensive notes during the run.. but “two little elves”played a few tricks with the fines masters notes .. hence this garbage is coming from what can be dredged from the very poor quality 0.004 MB brain chip of the fines masters brain!!!. You will also note the “two little elves” have worked their Irish magic and put a special green tinges on most pictures…

The normal horde gathered at Vase & Xbox’s. The 1830 revealed a new face (Gail– who failed to attempt exercise but did polish off the odd glass of wine) and a few returners.

AND then – shock horror!!!! Heaps of hashers arrived, including Sister, and this really put Vase went into a panic. The photo needs sound effects to properly capture Vase’s reaction.

Two topics of conversation themed the evening.. “international travel” and “perversions and perverts” – the latter soon became the sole topic. Sister and Plank were enthusiastic participants!!!!

Plank, on direction from the JM, “horned” for silence and Xbox calmed the situation by delivering the trail brief .. “it goes there and back to here”. All now clearly knew that Xbox could not actually remember where he laid the trail, so, with no confidence of even finding a PS, the assembled 25 set off. That is, less Firkin & Missing Linc, who of course, headed directly for Chats Bar and a bit of woman watching.

Trail did NOT follow the traditional Xbox “Options A, B, or C”, That may have explained his vague trail brief, but a new, and adventurous “TRAIL D” was used. We headed along QE2 drive, cut through the STINKY SHIT to New Brighton Rd, past a few little shops and to a PS by the local Scout Den(Full of little kiddies!!!!!.)

(Fines will cover the“prevision” opportunities avail on this part of the trail).

Xbox and his“helpers” (a euphemism for bastards too lazy to even walk).. entertained all … dogs rested… drinks were drunk … then we were on the way again…

TRAIL Part 2, was more like an Option B – you know .. QE2 Drive, into Burwood Rd, and then a twist through edge of Travis Swamp and back onto QE2 Drive. It was quite short, but walkers & runners were happy though, as the wind had come up and it was F*cking cold!!! It only tool 3 minutes for OH to be called.

At OH, Vase had calmed down and manage to whizz up a steaming hot carrot & peanut soup. YYYUUUMMMMM!!!

About this point Dogs, tempted the “two little elves” by placing his notebook, heavy with perverted acts observed on the run, down on the kitchen bench. And the note book was never to be seen again until it appeared after the fines in Dog’s shorts.. those elves get every where.

JM, Gloworm, having rested, souped & supped was in great form. Fines vaguely went like this:

·      300^th RUN – Sister Maureen (and all he wanted was a day glow jacket!!!)

· New Boot“GAIL”

·      Returner Squatter… and all added the comment “please stand up”

· Hare.. Xbox..

· Vase .. why not…

Dogs then stepped up – and continued.

· Wedge & Nacker Rash - for obvious affection for one another shown on the run.. – truth was Wedge had the tit & Nacker Rash is a tit man!!!!

· 007 –stopping at the dairy so he could buy bags of lollies (draw you own conclusions why he need them, but remember these sort of people always know when the trail will take you past a Scout Den.)

· Linc – Perving on a long legged large breasted “woman”(????) at Chats Bar, named LOLA.

· Vase –being so obvious about wanting a root for her birthday, by placing a FORK in a prominent position under the table – (That’s “prev”code for “fork me under the table” Xbox)

Back to the JM, the honourable Gloworm, covered….

· Lost property; .. there was some!!! ..
gee just remembered.. Meemee had a 2 week old bottle of beer of Planks left a her place !!! – Plank did the honours by drinking it…

Condon –from Sister to 007 – for trying to pay the $5 run fee by FPOS

TITS – Wedge to 007 – talking about the kinky threesome he had with the dogs

The Prick –Self awarded from 007 to 007 – you can split a winning trio like that– all three awards…

THEN the exquisite food rolled out… salads, vegetarian options, meat lovers food… what more could you want??

YESSSS …. the pudding!!!! Squatter is seen here rationing “small portions” (so she can hoe into the leftovers it later on!!!)

I now must state, after getting RA’s advice, STOP COOKING ELABORATE FEASTS.

THIS MAY BE WHY WE HAVE A SHORTAGE OF HARES at present… the food has been sooooo elaborate.. “normal” cooks are too embarrassed to present a “normal hash fare” of food.. sooo stop this elaborate stuff!!!!

Dogs Bollocks noticed the time .. 2143 and said “I’m LATE!!!” and he departed and no one cared!!! and they all cheered!!!

Onon ….. Dogs Bollocks…

GARBAGE FOR 2nd August - The Missing Linc -AS Gispert Birth Run – 43b Flinders Road, Heathcote

It was Gispert’s birthday. You know – A.S. Gispert?

Albert Stevenson Ignatius Gispert?

Gizzy?

“G” !!

Jizz Spurt? Oh, no that comes later (fnar, fnar...)

For those that haven’t figured yet, A S Gispert was our founder, the original and ultimate hash GM, without whom none of this would be possible. The first Hashman. Numero Uno. OK, not exactly his birthday, because he is dead, having got himself killed in the war in Singapore in 1942, but a celebration of the day he was born nonetheless. And he was there in spirit with us. You may be sceptical, but yes he was . I can vouch for this and have the credentials to prove it. I am qualified so to speak....right from my school days I have been told I am a definite average....though I think the word people meant is “medium” . So G was with us, and through my supernatural gift I spoke to him throughout the proceedings. In fact he asked me to pass on some tips to you all, as his original intentions in forming the Hash House Harriers seem to have got mis-directed along the way. Which I will do.

So to the run.

The pack met at Missing Linc’s place, up in the heart of broken Heathcote, with a large sober (sorry, sombre) group bowing their heads in silent reverence to the great G.

G says “for f*ck sake, liven up, its a party not a wake!”

The preliminaries done with, where Missing Linc took great pains to explain that the trail was set on flour and chalk (what a surprise) and off we set. Out of the driveway and right down the hill, until we hit the first check at the bottom junction. Seeking right and left, trail was found to the right by Dagy and the pack followed in various speeds of lethargy. Darting down to the left we jinked through a bit of a park and across a bit of shiggy then down a steep, steep slope onto a being-rebuilt roadway near the Lyttleton tunnel entrance. Runners ran, walkers walked, whingers whinged and Frigid managed to carve a new downhill path with the seat of his arse.

G says “call that shiggy? Back in my day we ran through quicksand. In fact we nearly died – old “Torch” Bennett nearly karked it and I had to pull him out...”

We followed up one side of the building site works then across the top of the tunnel entrance and down the other, Just Noze and Pulled Out slipping and sliding in the mud, with 007 and his canine escort trotting behind in the light of a fading torch.

G says “that wasn’t slippery. I remember hacking through the jungle and sliding down into the river. We had to swim our way out.”

As we passed through, there were a few shouts from irate construction workers shouting “trespassers” and threatening to call the police. Close call!

G says “Call that a close call! Back in my day we inadvertently came across some Malay maidens bathing in the river – they screamed and their menfolk chased us with knives. THAT was a close call, not some namby-pamby shouting form a distance at you....”

At the end of the construction works, through a gap in the fence and to the first welcome Piss Stop, on the site of the recently defunct Valley Inn. One Loos and Dagy held a moment of silence, Dagy with a positive tear in his eye. We all look forward to the day when the Valley Inn will rise again. G gave his seal of approval, qualified to do so as the resident Hotel Inn-spectre.

Then off we set again, walkers hanging back for short-cutting instructions and runners taking flight . Not long before we (or Pulled Out at least) realised that the run was but a cheeky con, and that this was a loop back to the same piss stop. Except it wasn’t, so we wandered aimlessly for a bit til Monkey Wrench picked up trail again. Amazingly Pulled Out didn’t even get fined for it.

G says “back in my day, we wouldn’t have let that go,, we would have....”

Oh f*ck off Gispert, its only your birthday and you are only a guest after all.

So on and around and upwards and eventually we came to the second piss stop where we imbibed a quick beer then jogged down the hill and back home to a fines circle and a feed.

Fines were a shambolic affair, with a poor array of ill thought out comments and fines. Gloworm fined everybody with a 7 in their run, fined the hare and kitchen bitch, then ran out of steam. A bit like his Winter Camp Speech really.

Then guest fines mistress Workashirka fined Frigid for his arse slide, Gloworm for something I can’t remember, and a couple of others that also escaped my penned notes. Then she fined the brewmaster for providing vodka RTD’s that were too strong! Go figure!

And – to prove it was a shambles and the JM was pissed - the shorts got presented by him to 007 – for NOT being late! Eh?!

Then the highlight of the night, a naming ....Heather / Hudder / Rachael had already announced that this was to be her last hash in Chch and so it was fitting that she was named. There could only be one choice On arriving Hudder had misunderstood first of all, thinking it was Linc’s birthday – and yes I know he looks that old, but no, that was not the birthday in question. So she read it again and said “Who was Jizz Spurt?” So Jizz Spurt it is. Welcome and farewell JS.

And out came the food . Sausage casserole, macaroni cheese, shepherds pie, salad and all the trimmings.

G said, sulking. “OK. you got me. That is better than the shit we used to eat.”

And to top it off, ice cream in DIY cones, with Monkey Wrench displaying yet another hidden talent in scooping and shaping the perfect ball – testament to her days working in the cinema.

Another great night at HASH and here’s to the next 75 years, when our successors will be raising a glass to that old founding GCH3 hasher Dagy. Although the old f*cker will probably still be there.

ON ON

007

PS – for those wondering from last weeks garbage – “Arachnocampa luminous” – is the proper name for “Gloworm”