Friday 18^th

And so the scene was set for a rootin´ tootin´ weekend hootenanny  at the (not  so) ok campsite. Expecting to be eating beans out of a tin ´a la Blazing Saddles we packed our air freshener and set off in Stifffanny´s drinksmobile with four flat tyres and a warning to go slowly and not make any sudden movements. Having been told it would take no longer than an hour we arrived three hours later to find a few thirsty revellers already there panting for some refreshments. After being shown our Des Res by Hobble, we had a shag (not with Hobble) and donned our  bestest bib and tucker and made our way to the dining hall.  Half starved and in need of a bevvy we found the bar being manned(?) by Streak Of Piss who offered us a long, cool drink (which was politely declined I hasten to add ‘cos you never know with him!) but he retorted ‘don´t knock it til you´ve tried it’ so I had a go!!!

Anyhows as the sun went down on us!!!  Lord Bender, Fender of that ilk called a circle and talked some shite before chastising anyone even remotely thinking of going to watch the Footie.  Since that meant practically everyone he found himself in the (unusually) pious position of reminding all & sundry that a whole lotta effort had gone into making our dinner & we should bloody well sit down, eat and be thankful.  All of a sudden his self-righteous brother Colonic decided he could not possibly go either (perhaps because he was on Gangbang sprogwatch) and so the camp was split.  Should I stay or should I go? I had a bit of a Clash (geddit!) of conscious but decided my country needed me and jumped into Flakey´s jeep where he proceeded to risk life and limb taking hairpin bends at a rate of noughts. My mind wandered to the climax of The Italian Job and I started to whistle ´Self Preservation Society´ which didn´t exactly inspire confidence in the female passengers who left a bit of a puddle in the back seat apparently. (You know who you are Stitched Up!).

With our appetites also whetted for the weekend ahead by the stunning scenery, we finally settled down in a bar with a screen to watch England thrash Algeria 0-0.

Slinking home dejectedly, our spirits were raised by the music & merrymaking emanating from party central where the revelry was in full flow. A delicious and much appreciated curry was served and wolfed down hungrily.  After a few more snifters I felt it necessary to throw a few shapes and felt I might also have to throw up my meal as well, so sensibly retired to my scratcher only to find 5 Mil snoring like a proverbial.  The party continued long into the night and it was left to Septic to turn off the lights in the wee small hours which he did and then duly fell down a gorge in the dark looking for his tent. Could have something to do with the copious amounts of alcohol he had thrown down his neck in order to drown his sorrows after the England fiasco. Anyway Limp-Toed Scrotum has a certain ring to it!!

Sat 19^th

Having finally managed some shuteye I found myself up at the crack of dawn (dawn  wasn´t very happy about it so I made my excuses and left) and proceeded to the breakfast bar for the promised full English extravaganza. Well what can one say except,  bravo chef!  Having stuffed my face with bacon, eggs and yummy sausages I fancied a bit of toast, but no, this was denied me and the other hungry hashers ´cos someone, who shall  remain nameless, had scoffed it and left the rest out for the dogs. Okay that Labrador did look a bit peckish (photos anyone?) but still and all!

With four hours to kill the sensible thing would have been  to visit the castle, but hey!  we´ll be going to that tomorrow we thought,  won´t we? How wrong can you be! However THAT saga is for another day and another scribe! So we decided on a lazy afternoon before the big run at 3 O´Clock. Pre-run circle was held and we were warned of the high prick risk factor, but just looking at Hare Flakey was warning enough, as he looked like he´d been self harming with one of the scary sharp kitchen knives that nearly had Pussy´s finger off (coulda renamed her fingerbobbed or fingered pussy!).

So with a maximum of fuss and much ado about very little the Hares Stifffanny and Flakey explained what was going on and what the markings meant but there was no virgins and no visitors so we all knew the score anyway and set off into the great unknown. And what a run it was!  The shaded forest was perfect for running and we were kept cool by the river running along side us. The flora and the fauna would need a Wordsworth to do it justice, so suffice to say it was a greatly enjoyable and worthwhile way to spend a summer afternoon and well done the hares for the great effort that was expended on our behalf.  Beer stop a couple of hours later took in some fantastic  views of Gib and, refreshed, we set off again over some magnificent, big pipes (no not Speedbumps), and back along the side of the river to base camp.

As everyone sat around adrinking and achatting and re-enacting Russias Got Talent (courtesy of Tweetskie-Pie), I was despatched to source some ice. Being the loyal servant that I am, I duly set about my task with not a whimper of complaint, and how was I to be rewarded  when I returned back later with said ice to find the circle already started ? Yes , you´ve guessed it,  I was made scribe for the day!  Not wanting to dwell on the injustice of it all I bit my lip and silently cursed Fender who thinks he´s a bit of a rocknroller but he´s really more country and western so I just call him cunt for short!  The run was a unanimous success and marks of 9.75 were awarded and the superlatives  flowed and we all hugged and sang and made love (no, not really).

Circle on, and all hell broke loose as Colonic thought it was a good idea to have a buckin´bronco competition with Radio kaka versus Hugh, all I can say is I hope she had underwear on, although it was probably an interesting shade of brown by the end of it. Hugh? Well Hugh just looked like a rabbit caught in the headlamps. The competition was promptly despatched to the bin marked ´seemed like a good idea at the time´ and abnormal service resumed with a christening for Pussy´s daughter who now sports the  hash moniker  Dicktaker, even though Pokercuntas would have been much more apt in the circumstances (i.e. she was dressed as an Indian squaw!) It was suggested Pokercuntas was unsuitable for someone of her tender years.  Ah Dicktaker is much more acceptable then?  Nobody said reason or logic had to come into it, did they? More down downs were awarded to Just Say Gwen for best Cowboy outfit, (where does she get her chaps?) and Arseholy for telling everyone earlier the mud was´nt  THAT  deep and then disappearing leaving practically only her head in view like something out of Apocalypse Now! Flakey was also outed as  a bit of a paedo with a penchant for young  Itchy or was it Scratchy, which reminds me for (no apparent reason) that Kindergarden Kop is scheduled for a renaming!

On and On and On it went until Colonic absolved us one and all and we shuffled off to the food hut for our much anticipated barbecue with plenty of ribs, sausages, salads and fresh trout to be had and of course more  wine and beer, not to mention some strong tasting sasperillas. Streaky had us all up doing some line dancing, although I think she would be more at home round a pole and I don´t mean a totem pole!! Speedbumps introduced her new best  friend ,  a bewildered looking stray cyclist who she had designs on and who thanked us the next day for an interesting evening!! Make of that what you will.

As the almost obligatory hash conga weaved its way round the tables I disappeared to my hammock in anticipation of the next days run which was bound to be spectacular. Was it not?

Lest we forget. A big thank you to Rubherturd and Spermaid for kindly donating this years Campout T-shirt in remembrance of Limp-Toed Sloth who passed away earlier this year. Gone but not forgotten.

Y ´all have a nice day now!

To be continued………….

Dogs Bollox (Ghost-writer: Mary Hinge)

Scribe Report (Donkey Sheet) Run number 1150 Hair of the Dog run. Campout Weekend at, La Jarandilla, Castillo de la Frontera. 20^th June 2010.  Hares:- Cryogenic Irrigation & Freezer Bender. 

 The circle was called, by Hash Mattress at about 1100 hrs. What a splendid job she did. The two perpetrators of the previous day’s “Rocking Horse Rodeo” were suitably chastised. The Hares described the run, which strangely enough did not require a convoy of 4x4 vehicles!!!!!!

The hounds set off from the campsite, to a check at the entrance of the campsite. Many of the hounds followed the most obvious route, only to find, it wasn’t. Shame! This was followed by a fairly long checkback, which was followed by more checks, checkbacks, split trails, (by the way, all falses marked) and an absolutely stunning beerstop, which doubled as a mega checkback, all the way to the campsite. Short, yes! Tarmac, sorry! Those of you who spent most of the weekend begging us to do just that and there were many of you, must have loved that. Strange about memories!!!! Those of you who didn’t like it. Get over it. It was our run not yours. It was not the worst you have ever done and you will do worse again.

Everyone got back to the campsite, in plenty of time for the circle, the meal, packing up, and setting off for home in daylight.

At the beerstop, it was quite apparent, that there was some amongst the hounds who were not totally appreciative of the hare’s efforts, the giveaway signs were, ice on the car seats old beer cans etc. Not a problem in a battered old 4x4, but on the high quality leather seats of a recently purchased, expensive car, not a good idea. We would also be very appreciative, if whoever was trying to force the rear seats of Fender Benders car open, (beats us what you were trying to put in there) would you please contact FB and advise how you are going to put right the damage that was done. It would be a shame if the hash had to pay for the repairs. This was a Hash guys, put it in perspective.

Back at the campsite, it was time for the circle. The Hash Mattress called the hares, to account for their sins. Apparently, there were quite a lot of them. First, Cryogenic Irrigation was sat on the ice, whilst the first half of the “stage managed” circle, called for blood. Then Freezer Bender was sat on ice, whilst the other half of the “stage managed” circle called for blood. We got Hash Shit!!!!! No problem. We are big boys. Hash Shit is an honour. We wear it with pride. The strange thing though, is that, although there were a few Hashers who had the courage of their convictions and marked the hash on what few merits it had, many of the baying pack, calling for hash shit, were the same hashers who spent most of the weekend begging us to set a “nice” short easy run. Many more of the disenchanted haven’t been seen on the hareline for what seems to be decades. Practice what you preach guys.

Hash Mattress then handed the circle over to the RA. We thought it was going to be Flakey, but it looked more like, Roy Bean or Hanging Judge Jefferies, or maybe even Atilla the Hun. Anyway, he had all the beer and softies removed from the large cool boxes and incarcerated us in them, covered in ice. Thought we had already been iced. We were in those cool boxes for about nine hours. If you think that is exaggeration, you try sitting in ice for as long as we did and then tell us how long you were in there.

Hanging Judge Bean the Hun, then proceeded to invite Radio Caca to repeat the quiz she had prepared for the geeks and nerds of San Pedro, on the previous Thursday. We think Omar Khayam spent less time on his Rubiat. Anything to prolong the agony. Well, we suppose that, if you all didn’t have fun on the run, at least you did in the circle. Strange thing is though. I don’t remember anyone getting injured. I don’t remember anyone having to be rushed to hospital. I don’t remember Hashers arriving back half dead. Ring any bells!!!!!!! Last years Hares only got Hash Shit. And, last year, on the hair of the dog run, we got every accolade available for doing exactly the same as this year. Picky picky. Isn’t it strange though, you know the saying, “ revenge is a dish best served cold.” Watch this space!!!! By the way, when you spend that long in ice, you loose control of your faculties. So watch what you drink out of those cool boxes. The Religious Adviser further prolonged the agony with a succession of other sinners for a variety of reasons, such as anyone who actually gave the run a mark. Hobble Gobble for cooking without gas, or even electricity. Stifita for trying to pump up the world and Arseholey for something, but by then the grey matter had fully frozen and I can’t remember.

Eventually the RA got bored or couldn’t think of anything more to torture the hares for and handed the circle back to the Grand Mattress, who didn’t exactly show alacrity in releasing the shivering sinners, but eventually did and the circle gradually drew to a close.

After thawing out in a hot shower, another sumptuous meal was enjoyed. How Stiffanny managed all those meals on the budget of e35 per head I really can’t imagine, but I am sure I speak for everyone in saying a tremendous Well Done to the principle Hares, for a wonderful weekend.

Role on next Campout.

On On,

Your Hash Shits.   

Run 1148 - June 13th - Barranco Blanco - Hare: Swiss Roll

The assembled mob of poorly coiffured hashers (apart from Veuve and your scribe) converged on the valley floor at Barranco Blanco…. Swiss greeting us all with a beaming smile as the sun had come out and plenty of hashers made it to the run site.

 3 virgins, a few returners, a host of regulars and an army of dogs made up the pack. We were called to order and made to shuffle over to the markings which were outside of the circle. Once off it was a check immediately, the pack scattering and ON ON calls came from all over place. We finally headed off along the shredded/flour route. Mindy skipping along and leaping over ravines. Yogi taking up the rear with his trusty lens and Septic assisting Slipadictomy in avoiding Kinder. Cop was popping up like a merkat on heat at every hillock… and there were plenty of hillocks on this run, then a 26 foot drop from a CB to the route which was to take lead us in to the jungles of Apocalypse Now, Hobble’s Tenko nightmare.

Veuve Clitot was incognito in her newly grown locks, recognisable only by the bottle of Vino Sol in her grip….I wasn’t sure if it was Joanna Lumley making a cameo appearance.

We trekked deeper in to the bush and full of pricks it was. If the hash did talent shows it would be… I’m a Hasher get this prick out of here!… The jungle weeds were attacking us at every twist and turn till we finally made it the cooling waters of the Rio …Whereupon most people at the first sign of water knew they might as well just wade through it than try and avoid it…. KaKa, UYB, Tight Arse all having a jolley good go of doggy paddling through the most treacherous bit… it was Martin who REALLY showed them….. and teaching Veuve’s Waterdog how to do it.  When we finally got to the waterfall….after several near death slips from the rocks, a kind of survival euphoria took over the mob. The gushing cascade had several stripping off and demonstrating how the advert should have looked. The very same shampoo would have sold far better with Kaka or Speedbumps or better still both of them under the waterfall not the visitor who flung off everything but his grundies.

Eggshell, who was with Fab Tastard and his girlfriend – a virgin, was relieved to find the run far from boring when Speedbumps she split her shorts.

Hobble was hyperventilating after finishing the first half by the skin of her knees, Summer skidding around on some wet rocks and Fender trying to save his phone and cigs from water damage…

Yogi decided Polly the dog was more important and dived in forgetting he was hashflash and had the camera…..one thing you can always rely on Yogi for….. coming back injured.. and showing his arse…. Depending on the photos he got, wrecking yet another camera… who has ever sweated a camera to destruction…. First the bed, now the cameras… what pictures are you taking Yogi?

 Second half after a well earned rest…… we thought was just a straight hike back to the circle.. it turned out to be more interesting than that! Tight Arse claiming he knew the split trail would bear right and be breathtaking, only to find an F, before he actually saw anything of the views in the valley…. a karma chameleon in training.

 The Circle, This was nominated for the best beer stop ever…..the hares fearless.

At this juncture it should be pointed out that most of this hash was set by Just say Gwen…. Who received no credit, not even a mention….until now… and only because I am so late in sending this, I’ve caught up with the jungle bunny!

There were many down downs and Anniversarios, none of which I can remember except for Karma Chameleons joke which was the funniest ever because there was no start and no punchline… my kind of joke!

 The ON ON… bring your own stale sandwiches and Opencor Gazpacho was I’m told a rather hurried affair with everyone’s nuts and nipples freezing. But the main thing is that it was a fabulous day and a wonderful birthday for our wonderful Swiss Roll …. ON ON!

 Shaggy!

 

Run 1147 - June 6th - La Cala

I can not remember the last time I wrote a scribe as I am always on my Best!! behaviour in the circle and never late always on time.......... Well Not this time as I was quite late arriving but on arriving my new HC Ass was performing her duties & had all the money collected for me and ready to go.Tx Streaky.

 About 30 hashers gathered for the hares birthday run, Yogi and J.S.Gwen at La Cala.  Circle was called and hares did the usual flour markings that we all by now know, or do we?? Yogi decided to do markings a la UK style so as to confuse the already confused bunch.

We set off in the afternoon sun, down into the dry river bed, (I thought we had a lot of rain during the winter?), Flappy foreskin & and Ronan at the front checking it all out for us or this is what is suppose to happen, but they got slightly confused and couldn't agree on these new  & strange flour markings hence the pack going up and down the hill on a number of times and desperately looking for a bit of shade and the Bs sign as it was soo hot.

Once on the correct trail, found by Golden, the views where breathtaking and as we walked through the tall grasses and all the wonderful smells of freshly trod on flowers and wild garlic hit our smell senses we forgot about the horrid hill.

Lots of circles in flour kept the pack together, (these were checks by the way)!,and we all arrived at the BS relatively together, except for 1 hasher of course which was heading down to the second BS. Can anyone guess who this was??

From the Second BS to the On In it was relatively short but we had to cross a Wet River this time and Speed Bumps not wanting to get her dogs feet wet gave her a piggy back mutch to the annoyance of The Mounty as he wanted to mount her also!!:)hope you 2 had a good night at the disco.

Once back the circle was formed and scores were given and a worthy 8.9 was awarded. Would have been a 9 if they had bought cava for the BS!Cheap skates!!

It was then time for FB to act as standing RA, (he quickly got demoted I must say):) and cleansed us of our sins with lots of beer, Sinners where brought in for all sorts of things which a few of them if I can recall are as follows.

UYB for getting overheated on the run and having to catch a lift back in the hares car, The Mounty for not doing a scribe since the last run which was about........................20 years ago??!!!

Yogi for long distance running in the circle and saying that he was a marathon runner and lots of other bs!!. ha ha Karma, Hobble,Mindy,Sheep Shagger and yes Fender Bender for shortcutting though he did not want to admit it in the circle!!.

Pussy Galore for trying to Kill her dog on the road, but her scream stopped him in his tracks and so did the hashers that where around her! and hence this saving his life. Should be renamed Lucky, what a lucky escape and hope this will be a lesson for all you dog owners and lovers than when there is a road put them on a lead or give them a piggy back!!

Septic for New Shoes and Slipadictome for not wearing hash gear and comming as the black widow.

Speed bumps called in for telling a naughty joke, can anyone remember it? I can and it goes like this... " What smells worse than a boqueron"?..... answer...... A boqueron's c.u.n.t",  Very distasteful I say!

Yogi for being a bit Wobbly after leaving Wobbly Bob's bar and falling off his motorbike and having to stuff his pockets with motorbike bits as he damaged the poor thing, and I am sure lot's more sinners were called in but I can't recall all, sorry if I missed anyone out.

Names where put forward once again for Pussy Galores daughter and suggestions like Hot Pussy and Pussycat where discarded for the 4th time,.. maybe next time.

On On was anounced and 17 of us went for Roast Beef and Y Pudding with all the trimmings at Dibley's in La Cala which was superb.

A birthday song was sung by us all as the waitress came out from behind the screen with a peace of cake and a lit candle on it,  and Yogi all emotional got up from his chair and awaited the arrival of his cake, mutch to his surprise the cake was not for him but for a young 8 year old boy called John who was also celebrating his birthday, so Yogi got a bit upset and pulled his Big Pants down in front of all the diners, yes you read it in front of All &, this Big Hairy Bottom and some other bits also where on display. I am sure little Johny will never forget his 8th birthday in a hurry and nor will the other diners forget Yogi's Big Hairy Arse!!

The topic of conversation on the tables seemed to be about Sex, different types of Durex creams and gels and Viagra for women but the best one came from Willy Warmer and "wetting the bed", A great On On was had by all, Thanks to the 2 Birthday hares for a great day.

Aniversarios: Knockout 195 runs,Dogs Bollox 555 runs,UYB 415 runs,Flappy foreskin 5 runs,S Bumps 60 runs,W Wanker 180 runs,Mary Hinge 20 runs.

Your Scribe Golden Cascade. x :)

 

 Run 1145/1146 - May 29th-31st - Cazorla

 

Run 1144 (again) May 22nd HARES: Sir Sparky & HMV assisted by Nipper

Dafodildos Photos (Click here)

Torreblanca

 A group of about 35ish, like minded nutters, who where all wishing they had gone to the beach, turned up for the run. Roll on Monday running…..

 The pack was assembled, photos taken, and off we went, it was confusing to say the least, but what’s new, it would not be the hash if we were not confused. However, when only two hashers actually completed the first half of the run, it must have been very confusing.

 For the rest of us, we all arrived at the beer stop in record time, and had lots of time to scoff crisps and drink copious amounts of not quite cold enough beer, whilst waiting for the not quite lost Pussy Galore and Golden Cascade.

 We gave up waiting, after being told that they would be quite some time and set off for the second half, very enjoyable and with the hares back before us and PG and GC back in the fold,  the circle was called. I think the run score was about 7. +++

 With our new RA Colonic taking the day of without a sick note, our new Arch dickin Flakey, had to step up.

Bereft of his beloved robe ( stolen, or misplaced ) the lack of respect in the circle was apparent with the Kodak kids leaping around the circle making the paparazzi seem like Japanese tourists,  and Up yer bum, doing a great impression of Guy Ritchie, directing the show.

I cant remember much it was all too distracting,  and I had far to many beers at the beer stop,  but sins were cleansed; PG and GC for not calling and going of to do their own run and leaving the rest of us to go the wrong way.

 The spec saver award went to Daffy Dildo, for getting into the wrong car at the petrol station and frightening small children.

 Ronan was called in to be named, about time, but had a stay of execution, as Bollock chops did not go down too well, so we need to work on that one.

 Circle closed we parted for the On On On to a great little venta 3 couses, a litre of vino all for 11 euros.

 Well done hares.  

 Your scribe Stiffanny

  Run 1143 HARES: Fender & Flakey

Well here I am again  doing Hash Scribe it only seems yesteryear since the last time  ,ok it was last  decade but who s counting  .

I will start with the AGM 3pm kick off at Baranco Blanco ,GM  Dipper  chaired the meeting ,well not chaired exactly ,because he didn’t have one so you could say he stood the meeting but I digress  out went the old gang and in came the new .

Details will follow I am sure.

Now the run set off at 4pm    run no  1143/1144

Iam edging my bets because it was announced as no 1144  and even sewn onto our teashirts  but stiffany got a down down for  getting it wrong ,I kept well out of it   because several  of our members ( mostly women) had been involved in fisty cuffs that week  what is the hash coming to ? Oh well they always said they were a rough lot .

Hares  fender bender and flakey  set the usual ball breaker  of a run ,we set off with about 45 runners  but swelled to over 50 by the time lost souls caught up .I have run that area  3 times and this run was the reverse of the last time  but with fabulous  views the hares managed 8  ѕ   ( I WOULD HAVE GIVEN THEN 3 BUT NOBODY ASKED ME)

To the circle  3 virgins were called in all blokes so we past on quickly to anniversaries notably kindergarden  kop or dave  240 runs ,Kama chamelian 255  and the saddest bastard of the day mummy s boy 275 ,sins were cleansed and since it was mummy s boy s birthday the RA decided a fresh salad was more fitting then a cake so the ingredients were placed on his head and tossed ,the salad I mean ,seasoned and tossed  . with Flakey and colonic switching roles from RA to ARCHDEACON  and visa versa a long but most enjoyable  circle was had  and  8pm we moved  off to the Booma Restaurant .

Nice to see my old friend Elephant ass looking as youthful as ever ,perhaps a young Chinese bride might suit me ( yes 5mil please)

Also wishing Veuve clitoris a speedy recovery   keep hashing on 

5 Mil

Dafodildos Photos (Click here)

 

Run 1142 HARES: Shaggi & Speedbumps

 

 

Xavia weekend - Radio Kaka & Mummyґs Boy took a few pictures   HHH XABIA 2010 

Run 1141 HARES: Fender and Hobbleґs   marks:   7.5.

 Well, so what a lovely day for a run in Alorin! 

Some 30 odd hashers, virgins and visitors turned up at the run start in the middle of nowhere!

At 15.09 His Royal GM ship called the circle and straight away Spermaid and Yogi were brought in for new shoes!

The hares Fender Bender (Rudolf Hucker) and Hobble Gobble (Bollock Chops) showed us the way, well down the road to a 34 km CB to the start actually! I stayed at the start to finish my beer which turned out to be the right thing to do!

 The pack went up the hill of death whilst I ran along the 2km lane to the BS. What a BS it was too! (Lots of pleasure for me with crisps, mini pancakes with cheese and sweet chili sauce, biscuits and large amounts of Brandy and coke and beer!)

 The reason for the long BS was that some people got lost!!! Speed Bumps was last.

 Then off we went again around the back way up and down to the cars.

 His GM ship then threatened everyone that if they misbehaved he would make them drink from his cock!

 Several Aniversarios were rewarded with a beer for putting up with his running rubbish, can’t remember who now. I was getting a pit piddled!

 His worship the Arch Deacon of Mijas then took the circle and chastised as many sinners as he could for countless sins that week.

 Sins were:

Sex on the hash.

Burnt Bottoms.

Radio Gaffs.

Pregnant boys and Girls.

Sound alikes.

Burgelrys.

Stolen Discoveryґs.

Being stupid

Carrying an offensive wife.

Walking on the cracks in the pavement.

Looking at him in a funny way.etc.

 Then our first impromptu wedding of Yogi and Katy. Who were joined in holy wedlock and promised to be unfaithful at all times.

They wee then covered in flower to add to their enjoyment of the ceremony.

 The Arched Deacon then performed the traditional naming ceremony for Stacey, the Arched Deacons offspring.

She was then named in true HHH fashion ASS HOLY.

 Before the circle was closed his holiness pleasured the group with a wedding ditty and was then ordered to drink from the GMґs cock (not the first time I might add and this one was a rubber chicken)

 The on on on was cancelled at he last minute that day so we all ended up in the restaurant opposite for a very tasty spread of Spanish fare.

 Gold bless every one of us, well except for Gang Plank who doesn’t count.

 Well done Rudolf and Bollock Chops!

 Your Arched Dick.

 Colonic Irrigation. X

 

      St. Georges Day Run 1140 HARES: Dafodildo & Fender  Run score 9.36

Dafodildoґs Pics here: http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/daffadildo/StGeorgesDayHash?authkey=Gv1sRgCI2fqKWs69Luaw#
　
Due to me being the last to arrive at the hash this week I have been given the ignominious honour of hash scribe. The hash meeting point was at a small picnic site on the edge of Guaro pueblo. I arrived just in time to meander my car through a pack that was setting off on the trail. Despite swerving several times I was unable to nail any of the copious amount of hash hounds that were present.
After parking I grabbed a quick beer (it is the hash after all) and set of to catch the pack, with sceptic scrotum, who was just as late as me and colonic who was just to lazy to actually start the hash until he was the only one left and had no option. Within a few hundred yards Shagadelic who was in a small group at the back of the pack turned and shouted to us that she was not on trail and was actually shortcutting. Obviously like a latter day Mata Hari she had slept with the hare to gain secret information on the trail and therefore knew where the best shortcuts could be made. Sceptic and I turned back to find the trail. Colonic was over the moon, by joining Shaggy’s group he had saved himself at least half a mile of trail.
Sceptic and I picked up the trail which led us down through a small avocado grove/allotment before turning up into the pueblo. The trail wound through the quiet streets and I thought to my self, all very quaint but with all this stunning countryside around here why are we on tarmac??? There were check’s a plenty but the kind, thoughtful FRB’s had had the forethought to scrub out the relevant parts making our progress through the streets relatively rapid. Suddenly we came to a small plaza, at the entrance there was a check and those selfish, useless non thinking front running bastards hadn’t scrubbed it out!!! There were 5 exits from the plaza. This was going to take an age to check out. Sceptic started trudging up one of the side streets saying “I’ll check this one.” I looked at the remaining options and thought sod this!!! I asked one of the locals if they had seen a large group of slightly mad looking Guiri’s pass this way. She pointed down the hill and shouting Sceptic we set off again. We were back on trail.
The trail led up a stupidly steep hill and out of the pueblo onto a dirt road, at last heading in to campo. It was a surprisingly warm day and although we had only been walking for about 15 minutes I had managed to work up a sweat. By now we were catching up with the back markers (mummy’s boy and Mindi.) Passing them we came to a BS sign!!! Beer stop already well what a shit hash. We’ve only just got going and we are at the beer stop. However this was just the first beer stop I was told and more importantly there was no beer!!!! However there was Vodka Jelly. That’s a new one on me. Tried it, couldn’t really taste the Vodka but there was definitely something erotic about sticking your finger in the jelly and wiggling it around (so I am told by a reliable source.)
After five minutes of chatting and fingering jelly we were off again, the trail soon going off the dirt road, up another stupidly steep hill and into the campo. The trail was incredibly well marked considering the flour must have been put out with a tea spoon. Marked at regular intervals and plenty of checks to keep the FRB’s in line.
The hare had warned us that a change of shoes would be necessary and all to soon we came to see why. A river (well big stream) had to be crossed. The cool of the water a welcome relief from the heat. However no sooner were we in it than we were out the other side, on the side of another stupidly steep hill and yet another check. The pack was spread halfway back to Marbella before the trail was picked up and we were off again. Up hill and down dale until we were back on a dirt road and the beer stop could be seen at the bottom of the hill.
The beer stop was at the side of a river crossing and it wasn’t many minutes after the pack arrived before they (myself included) were wading in the river enjoying the cool water after a long hot first half. Of course there is always one (with the hash, most actually.) And it wasn’t long before Speed bumps and Dafodildo were in the river swimming, closely followed by Radio ka ka and a couple of others. All of them blissfully unaware that Colonic was pissing into the river up stream of where they were swimming. Eventually on on was called and the pack set off again. Radio ka ka and Speed bumps looking great in their wet clinging t shirts. Radio ka ka also had on tiny white shorts which had gone completely see through now they were wet. (There is a god after all.) No sooner were we out of the river than we were back in it again the trail taking us down stream for about 500 meters. Notably colonic’s daughter (as yet unnamed) decided although the water was only two foot deep it might be nice to try swimming downstream instead of walking. The trail eventually left the riverbed to go up through an orange grove with all the trees in blossom. Reet pretty it was. And it kept on going up and the orange trees turned to almond trees. Radio ka ka was impressed she hadn’t seen almonds on a tree before. I made a non committal hmmm sound. I was still transfixed by her see through shorts and the trail still went up!! I would have stopped for a rest (I was panting like a carthorse) but that would have meant the see through bum would have gone on ahead and I would of lost it.
Coming out on to a dirt road we were walking up (again) when Radio Ka Ka and I found a small turtle/terrapin crossing the road. He looked very hot and rather thirsty I fear and was swiftly returned to the stream by Willy Wanker’s Willy Warmer. Eventually the ON IN sign was spotted and we were headed back to the picnic site. As we were coming in to the last 100 meters Radio Ka Ka came running pats me shouting race ya. Now obviously I wouldn’t take part in any form of competitive running but on the other hand I couldn’t just let that see through bum disappear into the distance. The only thing I could do was give chase.
After much beer drinking and changing of soggy footwear the circle was called. The run was given a resounding 9.36 (or somewhere around there) and said by several hashers to be the best run of the year so far. The GM also awarded the RA a down down for arriving at the beer stop with dry feet. Only possible if you have short cutted. The RA then came into the circle to cleanse the rest of the hash. As is the norm many hashers seem to have been sinful (far to many for me to remember.) I do remember Yogi was punished several times and given the ARM on one occasion. However he was so crap at it his virgin colleague was brought in to the circle to show him how to do it properly. Radio Ka ka also quaffed copious amounts of ale for all her sins (can’t remember what they were though.) There was a very young French lad, who was a hash virgin punished mercilessly for his many supposed sins. Never mind he was French and therefore obviously guilty of all of them. To finish the circle Sue (if you are not sure who, think Kindergarten) was brought in for her naming, having completed five runs. Gangplank was determined she should be named wasted pussy. I argued against this as we already have a wasted pussy albeit she doesn’t come any more!!! Strapadictome was firm favourite for a long time (refering to the way kindergarten is never far away) but was eventually changed to Slipadictome. With all formalities completed the circle was closed and it was on to the on on.
Being a tight antisocial git I did not go to the on on. However I am reliably informed by an un named source that it was shit. Gang plank was most put out there was not enough wine to go around. (Gangplank was given hash shit for a crap on on.) there were only 8 bottles of wine between 30 hashers, there was large quantities of sangria but it tasted crap and the food was a pile of pooh (so I’m told.)
That’s it. That was last weeks hash and if you missed it, you did miss out.. See you next week.
Tight Arse.

 

Red Dress Run 1139 HARES: Dipper and Kharma MARKS: 8.7

 After getting over the initial shock to the system that yes, 8.30a.m does actually exist on a Sunday morning it was time to adorn the obligatory red dress and depart for central Malaga accompanied by two fellow hashers.

 It was a fine, beautiful, sunny morning (oops – I think I must have drifted back into a dream state!) …  It was a cold, wet Andalucian day.  However, a little rain never dampens the spirits of the hashers so we all followed the Hare’s superb directions (although our chauffer, Gangplank, did tell Kinder and I that the kilometer guidance distances were not quite correct!) to the Gibralfaro.  What a sight to behold … 30 ravishing, raucous, red dressed hashers all congregated together and were raring to run and follow the expertly laid out run.  Unfortunately that’s where we went wrong before we had even started – there wasn’t actually a run to follow!

 The Hares called for the pre-hash circle and the hounds were told excuse after excuse, after excuse as to why there was no laid run to follow.  There was no flour, no chalk, nor any shredded paper to be seen – not even an old tissue was going to be found to guide us along our merry way – and yes, you’ve guessed it … it was all blamed on the rain!  But, low and behold, we were told not to despair because we were going to have our very own tour guides to lead us through the beautiful, soggy streets of Malaga – that is, we could follow the hares at a comfortable strolling pace.  So after admiring each other’s dress sense, or not, and the buxom beauty Yogi, we descended the hill down into the depths of Malaga.

 The first beer stop was at a corner bar where some of the hashers, myself included, enjoyed sneaking a peek at the end of the Chinese Grand Prix whilst downing our tipple.  There was a slight technical hitch when it was time to leave as the Hares had omitted to take any money with them to pay the bill!  They had though bless them remembered to take the key bag along.  So after they had sold their bodies and completed a spot of washing up, the bill was paid by a kindly Samaritan hasher as the Hares didn’t make enough money to pay for one beer/coffee, let alone 30!  Finally the hounds were unleashed again and the tour continued.  We hopped, skipped and jumped through the puddles to a rather splendid rendition of, ‘We’re singing in the rain’.

 The second, yes second, beer stop was then upon us.  We all congregated outside a little Russian supermarket and bottles of beer/water were handed round.  Some hashers were almost convinced that it had stopped raining after downing a half litre bottle of 11% Russian beer.  For other hashers the beer fumes were enough to make them feel all warm and tingly inside!  After Colonic’s quick shopping spree to buy caviar, it was announced that it was time to move onwards and upwards, upwards, upwards.  The hill back to Gibralfaro was successfully conquered and we arrived back at the cars where a perplexed Swiss Roll was waiting for us.  The poor love had missed the start of the run due to another hasher’s need for ‘just 5 minutes more in bed’ – yes Speedbumps, you know who you are!  Who were the 5 minutes with though?!  That was the question on everyone’s lips!

 By now the heavens had dried up and we were all looking forward to a bright, cheerful, dry circle but oh no – we waited until it had started to rain again and then the circle was called!  With a brolly in one hand and a drink in the other, we were ready to be cleansed!

 The Hares were scolded for the weather and for not having used, flour, chalk or paper.  However they were reprieved because they’d kept the hounds together, the beer stops were great and a Sunday morning stroll around Malaga was exactly what the doctor had ordered to blow away all of our cobwebs!  Overall they scored 8.7.

 The anniversaries were than called into the circle.  Dipper for 550 runs, Flakey and Up yer Bum for 410 runs (some made their own conclusions as to why they’d completed the same number!) and Fender Bender and Hobble Gobble for 140 runs.

 The afore mentioned Speedbumps then screeched into the car park and proceeded to greet each and every hasher around the circle before being called into the circle to be punished for having left Swiss Roll wet and stranded down on the coast.  Her punishment was to be 8.7 lashes of the whip on the derriere, to be administered by Swiss Roll.  Due to Speedbump’s enjoyment and the male hasher’s inability to correctly count to 8 (I wonder why?!)  20 or so lashes were received before her down down.

 The best red dressed beauties, the worst red dressed beauties, the dress the same as your partner red dress beauties, the most expensively dressed red dressed beauties and the where the hell is your red dress beauties were all, at one time or another during the course of the circle, down downed!

 A brief time out was taken whilst we posed for photographs, which were not this time taken by our resident hash flash, Yogi, but by hoards of tourists who were passing by on the aptly coloured red Malaga Tour bus.  Just think, next week we could all be in photo albums, and pinned on notice boards, all over the world.  Of course, 30 red dressed ravishing, raven beauties won the number one top hot spot for things to do and see in Malaga yesterday.  Surely we were a more impressive sight to behold than some old castle!

 The circle was brought back to order, where upon, one poor hasher, (who luckily is yet to be christened with her hash name and therefore shall remain nameless!) was called into the circle several times for having gained the attentions of a few of her fellow hashers, or so it was implied!  Her suitors were called into the circle too and it was decreed that whomever she chose out of the line-up had to sit next to her during the On On and pay for her meal too – the poor bloke!  After a little help from Hobble Gobble, the suitors were out maneuvered by Tone the Bone, who was innocently standing by minding his own business until being dragged into the circle to become better acquainted with the nameless hasher!

 More down downs took place, along with a joke about a cow – did anyone catch the ending of it?!  It was then time to officially close the circle as we’d all been cleansed.  We headed off, convoy style, to the Frascati Pizzeria in the Guadalmar urbanization.  An excellent Italian meal and wine was enjoyed by all, the food was delicious and nearly everyone was happy with whom they were sitting next too!  The wine and conversation flowed until it was time to leave and so take our separate ways, well almost separate ways, back to our sofas and slippers.

 All-in-all it was a splendid day, well worth getting up early for.  And incase you were wondering … yes … Tone the Bone did pay for the nameless hasher’s meal!!!  Bless him – thank you very much.

 On On

 Your scribe Sue (soon to be christened Phoenix!!!  HeHeHe!!!!!) 

RUN NUMBER: 1138

HARES: Pussy Galore & Streaky MARKS: 8.90

ANNIVERSARIOS: Yogi 40 & Two Pies 190

Well before I rave on about the best On On EVER I guess I should comment on the run. Firstly, it was nice to see Kharma & Golden Cascade back from their cruise, and Gangplank and Gwen from South Africa, as well as Swiss Roll who had returned from her massage course in Thailand (do I hear free massages on offer from someone other than Dipper?!)

The run site was nice and easy to find as it was exactly the same one as last week. In fact you could still see the flower markings on the ground from last weeks circle.

The run was very well marked, with lots of nice checks. When we got up to the demolished castle (and another check) we searched for a possible route, only to find that we had to go down a ridiculously steep hill with no visible path what so ever. It was a mission and a half...and many people fell or stumbled at least once. There were also more pricks than any lady should have to deal with in one Sunday afternoon. Now Iґm all for a few pricks on a Sunday afternoon (if youґre not, you shouldnґt bother going on the hash) but this was a bit silly. Bleeding and scarring is a sure sign of too many pricks if you ask me.

Talking of pricks (only kidding) Salmonella Rushdie obviously wanted to use his, as each time you saw him he had his arm round a different woman! Maybe the Malaga hashers arenґt so friendly as us?!

We then ended up in the most beautiful meadow with pretty flowers (which also impressed Kindergarten) which compelled me to spread my arms, and spin around doing my best Julie Andrews impression singing ґThe Hills are Aliveґ Magical.

Then Tight Ass brought me back down to reality with a bump with his fog horn like ґON ONґ and I realised that Captain Von Trapp was not about to come and sweep me off my feet. :(

The beer stop was, well, a beer stop, with a handy wall nearby, the perfect height for peeing behind.

We started the 2^nd half shortly arriving at a half demolished or half finished (you never know these days) building where Salmonella propositioned to take Suckya Cocka through the bedroom. Thankfully they didnґt, as I donґt think she would have made it out alive.

We then appeared to be in the depths of the jungle in Borneo, with plenty of bamboo to hold onto to help us along our way. I think Suckya Cocka was hoping that Tarzan might come swinging through the trees, but no. Just Salmonella.

Then some uphill with yet again more pricks than you could shake a stick at, although Fender Bender assured me that was one of the benefits of having a stick.

I actually did more running than Iґve done before, which was nice, but did make me almost as red faced as Constable Pussy.

The circle commenced and after our GM Dipper told us about his limp cock and the fact that he would be kicking the donkey instead, our RA Flaky took over and started by making us all get a drink. He then said a few words about the recently departed Limp Toed, and we did 30 seconds silence and a down down in tribute to him. (although Flaky almost had us doing 30 minutes!) RIP Tommy.

There was a christening made of Pussy Galoreґs daughter, who is now Split Pussy. As in she can do the splits. What else would it mean? We tried to name Sue, who almost became Suenami, but then it was decided that we would wait until a better name came up. Hobble Gobble piped up with the suggestion of Sponge Minge, which was hilariously funny but no-one had any idea what reference this was to Sue. Well, maybe Kindergarten did, or at least hoped to anyway.

There was lots of misnomers in the circle, plus Gangplank revealed his more than slightly disturbing wanking incident over a National Geographic magazine. I canґt really remember anymore about it. I think I purposely blocked it out.

We then proceeded to the On On which was fantastic value at 10€ for three courses. You could even choose from the Carte Dґor ice cream flavours. Happy Days. The fish was also lovely, although what was advertised and ordered as sole was in fact swordfish... Pussy Galore did a great job waitressing, in fact she did a great job all round as this was the first time she was a Hare. Well done PG.

Then a nice chap called Phil did a quiz for us! The winning team was (of course) Hannahґs Hotties, which consisted of Yogiґs son Alex, Up Your Bum, Dipper, Gobbychov and someone called Radio Kaka who was particularly good.

Now I need to go any buy a frikkinґ red dress for next weeks run. Unless maybe Yogi has a spare one?

ON ON

Radio Kaka xxx

RUN NUMBER 1137
 
Hares: Yogi & 2-Pies

Dafodildos Pictures

Genesis 

Yay even after flying down the Autopista in a trusty Peugeot chariot Shaggy and I arrived late, I was assigned scribe duties & Hash flash, was I some kind of miracle worker, not even Jesus wrote his own bloody book, so I shall put quill to papyrus and upload the pictures.

 Old Testament

 Arriving on the mount after the sermon had started, where 30 odd disciples, one virgin namethed Ian not Mary, even though the Hinge was present, some hash disciples from afar (Madrid), one who could have passed for the Holy Ghost were congregated, 3 Harriett’s wore various items related to Playboy (Bunny Outfits) whilst the rest of us kept our Easter regalia hidden for later.

Informed by the Hares that a prize would be awarded to the Hasher that collected the greatest number of eggs hidden along the trail we set out on our Holy pilgrimage led by interspersed blobs of unleavened flour and sometimes they were a little too interspersed.

At the first check I found one of the hidden eggs and dubious of a hashers mindset checked to make sure it was boiled, imagining Yogi and Two pies pissing themselves laughing at the thought of egg splattered hashers arriving back at the circle

We were led over hills and pastures with the Madrid disciple FFS (Floppy Five Skin, For F*cks sake, Full ‘o’ F*ckin Shite, Fit F*ckin Sod, Furry Fanny Sucker) leading most of the way until we found an Oasis ‘Definitely Maybe’ of Beer, Water, Crisps and some dodgy doughnuts, what the hell the doughnuts have got to do with Easter I don’t know, maybe it’s because Yogi thought they were Holey.

Yogi announced there was a special egg that Suckya was eager to find with hairs on the top, Pubic Hairs????

Anyway FFS was eager to continue his pilgrimage until Herod ( aka Dipper ) held him back until the rest had slaked their thirst and we were off again minus Hobble who seemed to be bleeding from the knee – was it some kind of stigmata????

On we wearily traipsed over yet more hills until we found some woods where the way to salvation ( ie beer ) became confused, there was a marking that looked like an F but was a check partially rubbed out so on we trekked scything through the hills like a bunch of Red Sea pedestrians it was a snip to reach the sermon on the mount.

 New Testament.

 We assembled in a circle wearing our Easter regalia and even Jesus turned up to hear the preaching’s of our illustrious GM who with his staff and cock did pass round the holy water ( beer ).

Speed Bumps nearly had an immaculate conception when Dipper got his cock between her legs, the look of ecstasy on his face, I think instead of Herod I shall now refer to him as ‘Harold’, ‘You dirty ole man’.

Yogi and Two Pies’y Pies were duly summoned into the gathering to be judged, and lo they were judged to have set a pilgrimage worthy of 8.9.

Daffa of the Dildo was awarded a couple of eggs for collecting the most hidden eggs and Hobble of the Gobble awarded a battery powered chocolate covered Santa ( where the hell that came from ) for the best Easter Bonnet consisting of a strangled chicken and some cracked eggs splattered over her head.

Speed Bumps received her chalice of 50 runs and did christen it drinking the holy Cruz Campo.

Before taking over the congregation our RA did emit a fart, Moses parted the Red Sea but this could have parted continents and certainly the hashers immediately around him, too many eggs I think.

Clonk did then proceed to cleanse those gathered of their sins;

For F*ck’s Sake for his cap.

Madrid hashers for being Madrid hashers.

A virgin ( rare in these parts )

And various other hashers for dubious sins.

Many were duly cooled on ice for sins including two budding hashers who I don’t think will ever hash no more even though they never started.

Pussy Galore who I think should be renamed Moist Pussy Galore after squirming around with an excited look on here face whilst sitting on the ice.

Yogi for being Yogi

Shaggy for not scribing last weeks report.

Big Mac for taking a call from the never to be hashers.

In fact nearly all assembled were iced.

 The circle was duly closed and the disciples headed off to the last supper, if we could find it, maybe it was because there was no flour to guide us but it was comical seeing everyone taking wrong turns, reversing, shrugging shoulders and generally lost until someone got their bearings.

 On On

Daffa of the Dildo.

five of the 8 missing eggs were found, two badly wounded the remaining three must by now be declared as "missing in action"

 

 

RUN NUMBER 1136
 
Hares: Clog Dancer & Gardner

After diligently scribing the report immediately after the hash, I forgot all about it.  Had I got said report in on time I wouldn't have had my arse on the ice and a soggy bottom for my efforts.

Speedbumps was an hour early, ..... Something about the clocks leaping forward, that'll be it for Speedy's early arrival till next spring then.

40 odd hashers - You've got to be odd to do this malarkey - turned up at the bottom of a neatly paved avenue on a would be housing estate tucked in a valley just out of sight of the La Canada shopping centre - so near yet so far.

Sun shining at last - El Cid even marking his presence with Ginger Minge in tow.... no Bandaid?  Some visitors from Guadiaro - the fat one - (well HE said it!) aka Mr Countdown, Richard Madeley (wasn't he the one who stole from Tesco’s?) well anyway, more of him later.... completed our entourage for the day's event.

But not until the hares had explained the unidentified markings. Does Clog dancer do quantum physics in his spare time? It was all hieroglyphics to Flakey, Clonk and the rest of us. It was a good job we had the cars in our sight for most of the run, as the pack were sent off in two directions. Hash walkers and hash hard bastards (I have no idea who they were as most of us set off on the walking route.)

The dogs quite enjoyed the tunnel with a waterfall at the end, a sort of opposite trail to the one stiff and flakey set - so no one fell over the edge - cool.

The dogs skidding along the water, they loved it then we came across the raging bulls. Gangbang squared up to them, she was either going to ride one or shoot one, either way we could all make our escape.

On we tracked, blatantly ignoring Checkbacks and False trails. Mummy's Boy and El Cid calling ON ON! obviously attaining prior knowledge of the beer stop or were they just lucky, lazy bastards? None the less we managed to climb vertical out of the valley and back on to the road. From my vantage point it was obvious a man was staking out the

Hashers' cars - black t-shirt - suspicious movements. Waiting for his thieving gypsy mates probably. Robber! Thief!

As the pack approached the beer stop some thing had to be done - beer or cars robbed? Beer or Cars? 9-1 Beer. Just a few ably led by Hobble and her stick (no not fender) Colon Boy and Stacey blockading the road, Yogi recording all evidence on his phone. I gave the all clear to the gypsy looking car when it became clear it was just a group of pensioners on a spring outing. Fabi, to be sure, had them under the Spanish inquisition anyway. I dread to think what they must have thought of us - I'd have wound the windows up put the throttle to the floor. Aside from that, a few hashers were lost, Septic in thought and others found their way back regardless of flour.

So the circle proceeded with Flakey handing out downs for anyone who had a birthday. There was ice & there were sleeves, there were debtors - 2 Pies was an hour late - should have consulted Speedbumps. UP yer Bum for fighting. El Cid - aka ironside for a crinkly bum. The Ceuta crew for drug smuggling. Speedbumps and Suck yer Cocka for

smuggling coconuts. The Archdickon (Clonk) initiated a lookalikey line up with George Bush, EggshellslashDogsy, Mini Colonic, Catweazle, Gorbichov and Richard Countdown thieving Madeley - it was more like a line up from Crimewatch.

The ON ON was probably great but I forwent the 14 Euro meal for a 1 euro tapas in Coin.

 On On

Daffa of the Dildo.

RUN NUMBER 1135
 
Hares Suckaya Cocka & Up Yer Bum Marks - 7
 
Anniversarios
Stiffany 190
Suckaya Cocka 30
 St.Anthonys College

We arrived at the run start to be asked to park the green beetle near the road,so Hashers would see where to come.but a donkey with an Irish flag was put there instead. About 28 hashers turned up on a cloudy slight drizzley day. We had two virgins and one visitor We began with Birdshit Bob supping beer out of his new trainers.There were strange markings in flour on the floor,which were explained by Up your Bum somewhat vague.We set
 
 off wandering around the campo searching for the first markings.eventually we picked up the trail more by luck than judgement as the rain had washed away most of the flour. After crossing wild flower covered meadow,hills and roadworks and bee hives [where  colonic got stung] we heard Stiff Fanny shouting that we were on the in trail,we all turned back to then encounter the beer stop having missed out most of the run.  After taking refreshment some hashers then proceeded to do the first half of the run in the second half.confusing??????yes very,whilst others took the short route back to the cars,which were visible.in the distance.After about an hour the long distance hashers arrived back where we commenced the circle.
with all the dogs safely removed away from the circle. There were lots of down  downs,and Birdshit Bob was annointed with flour and named SIR BIRDSHIT as he had been coming since about the tenth  Mijas hash[thats a long time to be coming]A big down down was given to the hares for no signs,lack of markings and  alhambra beer which tasted like piss ????Circle closed we adjourned to Someplace Else for a nice roast dinner good wine and entertainment.           

Scribe H M V.

---

RUN NO: 1134  HARES: Flakey & Stiffanny

Paddyґs Day Marks 8.5

Anniversarios - Radio KaKa 15, Verve Clitot 60, Mummyґs Boy 200 & something?

 

As we set off for our weekly fun run, the sun was shining and all was right with the world. Then as kick-off time emerged the rain clouds gathered and the skies opened up for a good 10 mins soaking us all in our best St. Paddyґs day greenery. Then what appeared to be a brief, partial eclipse of the sun turned out to be up yer bum bending over to pick up some loose coins she spotted on the ground. Phew! Panic over we set off in the customary fashion i.e. a shuffling, aimless meander brightened up by Kindergarden Kop asking Susan whether she wanted it from the front or behind. I still donґt know what he meant ґcos iґm quite naive in these matters but he got a down down for it later on so it must have some hidden meaning or other. I shall ask Mr Bollox about it later. As we continued on we were met by a very long, wet and dark tunnel. I pondered the Freudian significance of this for a few moments before opting for the more sensible route i.e. overground. (Short cutting bastard some might say but they can kiss Dogs Bollox for all I care!) It transpires this was a cunning bit of foresight on my part when you consider the state of some of them that made it out the other end. (See photo of Yogi dangling precariously from the tunnel mouth!). Shaggyґs long suffering mutt (not daffadildo, the other one!) was even attempting suicide by the sound of it, such was the harrowing ordeal it suffered. God only knows what went on in there!

As we limped gamely on to the beer stop we emerged onto the paseo to be met by a bemused looking bunch of locals who were asking about the geezer in the green wig. Who could they mean? Turns out it was none other than our own resident tranny Hobble Gobble. God love her/him whatever. For our pains we were rewarded with a cup of mild green fairy liquid (not absinthe) and a baked tattie with stuff in it. Sorry but Iґm Scottish and my appreciation of gastronomic delights is minimal. HMV and Nipper turned up suspiciously late and one can only wonder what went on in the tunnel of love, just as well she was wearing her all-in-one condom (this seasons must-have apparently, you couldnґt make it up, honestly!). So no little nippers on the horizon. Well apart from the one Gangbang is bearing!

We waited a good 15 mins for the tunnel dwellers to make an appearance but they were nowhere to be seen. We didnґt know the horrors they were experiencing and could wait no longer, so set off for what we thought would be a straight forward jaunt back to base camp only to be met with the north face of the Eiger to navigate, with a river running through it thrown in for good measure (spot the movie references). It was Pure Murder as they say in the less salubrious parts of Glasgow!

The circle was called and Hares Stiffanny and Flakey were awarded a well deserved 8.5 The RA dispensed with cleansing beers for all the miscreants whose sins, real and imagined, were duly purged. A stirring, choral tribute was sung by Colonic in honour of Lilo Lil and there was not a dry eye in the house. I cannot recall the exact lyrics (maybe just as well) but Iґm sure he will give us another rendition when she makes her glorious return to the fold. Maybe this was due to the rather large amounts of white powdery stuff he was imbibing (Again see photos!). Anyway come back soon Lilo Lil. All is forgiven.

On On at Dominiques was good value at 11 euros and a superb On On On at The Bell & Bottle for a karaoke extravaganza. They could not have known what hit them when our motley crew congo-ed in. After a few more sherberts and a sing song it all became a bit of a blur as I was getting a bit tired and emotional. But what a good looking and fantastically talented bunch of singers we are!*

* Hallucinations may have set in at this juncture.

On-on

Mary Hinge

RUN NO: 1133  HARES: Colonic & Tweetskipie

Russian Mothers Day Run.

 

Зайцы Colonic & Талль русского человека Ой, подождите .. Tweetskipie ..!!! Русский День Матери "Выполнить".
 
На то, что обещал быть холодным, дождливый день оказался теплый пол, брызги солнца .. день! с фантастическим очередь из номера что-то что-то было прекрасно!
 
Пролог у подножья озера, что только показывает, что он себя только один раз свой пьяный его вниз на месяц или около того! Fantastic полпути до места покрыло облако гору, с сюрреалистическим просмотра матрица стиле, что еще можно просить.
 
Off hashers пошел приступать к длительным горные восхождения .. РАБОТЫ ТЕХ .. HASHERS НОГИ! и они пошли вверх, после 45mins награжден ремни из руд русский стиль и водка, там был русский салат, блинчики с пышными сгущенное молоко или кленовым сиропом, колбасу черно-брейк и даже русский Home Grown Оливки ...!!! от Put It In, действительно особенное, еду запить Прекрасные русские водки! заставил вас красивые и теплые.
 
Hashers затем установить на своем пути и более, вокруг и смешные Достаточно вернуться к пиву остановка для приятного 2.9km бегунов работают в по дороге ..! Гениально!
 
Круг был нужной длины и Colonic там развлекать ..! Награда выдается на самый лучший русский матери, которая Hasher удивил всех нас, обнаружив под ее хэш одежды, чулки, корсет и ноги на расстоянии до слышать до есть русский стиль ..! За любовь к Богу я наклоняю хэш помню ее имя, но все мы знаем, кто она такая! информации, которую сообщили в доверие было причин отказаться ... и мораль эта история Размер имеет значение!! НИКОМУ НЕ забывайте, что .:!!!
 
По всем сделать составил 9,0 (официальный знака ГМ 5,5)
 
За всем ходом была действительно фантастической и много сделал усилие, и мы все действительно было фантастическое время. Хотя я пропустил О, я уверен, это было великолепно, и все веселились и что-нибудь достойное материальное хэш стукач будет сообщено на следующей неделе хэш перспективе.

 

Signing off.. SOP (Lee)

 

p.s. as I know most of you donґt  speak Russian, are in fact OLD and totally computer ilit..!! please google "google translate" and you can translate it there.. or use your noddle (if you have one) x x x

 

 

RUN NO: 1132  HARE: Big Mac MARK: 8.6

 

 The GM, in Dippers abstinence, Mummy's Boy, called the circle for the start of the Hash and after prating on for a few minutes called in the solitary Hare for the day - Big Mac, yes dear readers he had to set the trail all on his own, no one else wanted to assist and be the gherkin in his burger bun, which was a pity because had there been someone else there they may have reigned in Big Mac's zealous enthusiasm for setting a fiendishly tricky course stuffed full of twists and turns, false trails and numerous dodgy 'checks'.

 So off we all set bright eyed and bushy tailed on a lovely sunny afternoon - and got about 100 yards up the trail only to come to a juddering halt -   totally lost and screwed up and unable to  find the trail for about 10 minutes, (not for the first time that day either). There were even calls from some softies to return to the car park (basically all the women, Verve Clitoe, Pussy Galore, Swiss Roll, Streaky etc, whilst all the intrepid men bashed around the undergrowth getting nowhere but taking the opportunity to pea behind trees - scent marking, common male Hash practice).

 Finally Mummy’s Boy said he had been here before and sent a visitor off to find the paper and flower and we set off again at a gallop - that is except Up your Bum, whingeing away at the back.

 The visiting couples from Canada and the UK did themselves proud and were often seen to the fore crying - 'ON ON'. One of them even sang a fine rendition of the Engineers Song at dinner.

 After about an hour and half of many blind trails and lost Hashers we saw a small excited

figure on the horizon (well on the junction of a main road) waving at us - signaling that we were headed in the wrong direction - again! It was no less than that walking, talking, laugh machine, Colonic to our rescue - whoopee, and so we arrived at the Beer Stop. Cold beers all around - and a miserable single bag of cut price crisps - what the F...k !! someone has to get a grip of the catering on this Hash.

 The second half  was notable only in so far as we paid no attention whatsoever to the marked trail, and placed our faith blindly in that well known tracker - he with native cunning and considerable local knowledge - Sparky. The whole Hash just followed him striding boldly on, ignoring any attempt to find flower, wandering through dog infested villages, across dog infested fields and through dog infested orchards, across dog infested roads and paths, finally arriving back at the - dog infested car park.

 And so to the Circle called by Mummy's Boy the Grand Master, and his salacious sermon.Our eyes were opened to the ghastly sins of certain Hashers on the away weekend at Javea; step forward in shame, Oxfam - accused of nudity in public places, Colonic – laying naked on his back, barely alive but still finding strength to piss in the air and the two of them found drinking in the bars at 8.00am when they should have been providing for there memsab - Radio Caca thinking she was Barbara the Barmaid and with Veuve Clitot  and Calonic making up the Shangri-las whose stage was the dinning table - brrm, brrm, leader of the pack.There followed the ritual humiliation and down downs for them all.

 The GM handed over his Inquisition, the Spanish Inquisition,(what bollocks), to the RA, Colonic, who continued to preach the word according to his particular Gospel - mucky, wanton, lewd and crude....full of references to 'beastiality is best !' which seemed to make Fender Bender and  Hobble Gobble visibly pant.

 Various Hashers were dragged into the circle for cleansing - in particular those women displaying the desire to mate, those on heat - the 'Camel Toes' ...ooo ! Streaky, Verve Clitoe, Up Your Bum, Pussy Galore, Hobble Gobble, Sucka Cocka, Radio Caca, our visitors and for having an inverted CT, yes the man from back home in his lycra shorts! 

Stiffanny and Streaky were called in - Stiffany for trying to launch a sex toy business and Streaky for wanting to be that toy (now that would be interesting to watch).

 Hobble Gobble managed to go for a pea and piss on herself once again! - more potty training please Fender Bender .

 Crystal Tits (that’s me) was admonished for bringing 'Larry Grayson' aka 'Mr Stupid' the previous week and for posing in a pseudo Land Rover.

 Yogi was - well Yogi (weird) and Kindergarten Kop was all tongue tied cause he had brought along a right little stunner, a guest going by the name of Sue - who KK hopes to it get off with. All the best of British mate.

 The ceremony came to an end with a blessing from the RA who declared all sins to have been cleansed - until next time.

 The ON ON went well with plenty of singing and general carousing and that groupy, touchy, feely stuff, 'Bum tity, bum tity, tity bum...” -you  get the picture.

 Notwithstanding all of the above, the Hash awarded the Hare 8.6 for a splendid solo effort

(If there are any single female Hashers eager to become the 'gherkin' and keep Big Mac happy, you can apply through the HHH dating site - (is there one? - if not then there's a business idea! ).

 ON ON – Crystal Tits.

 

Run 1131 -Torreblanca - inland - Marks 9.69!!!

21st February 2010

Hares:- Dogs Bollox & Mary Hinge

 

After still many more days of torrential rain, the hashing goddess saw fit to grant a sunny sunday afternoon appearance for hash 1131. The key hashers and free roaming none paying dogs that turned up enjoyed a well perfumed trial of rosemary and thyme along with numerous wondrous occurrences:-

Including

Malaga hashers

Springing waterfalls

flashing moons

the very ( maybe not so rare) appearance of the black eyed "fly"

and the miraculous recovery for the Still unnamed hasher, due to the dexterity of Constable Pussie's fingers.....

The Grand Mattress and her cohort, the RA were treated yet again to a down down, for promoting misinformation and turning up late...!!!

 

Anniversaries

Kindergarden Cop 230

Streaky 155

Doggies Birthday 62

 

Awarded a well deserved 9.69

and dogs bollox to those that missed it--!!!!

 

Scrolls

 Constable Pussies' galore..

 

Run 1130 - Largo Tortugas

14th February Valentines Day Run (Chinese New Year)

Hares:- Radio Caca, Mummyґs Boy and Verve Clitoe

Ereroy, what does this button dooooooooooooooooo. Oops. Right I think I’ve got it. Hello, I’m your scribe for this week, cos that git of a Grand Mattress, Stiffany stitched me up and said I was the last in the circle, after she had given me permission to leave the circle. Just goes to show, you can’t trust a bloody committee member.

Stiff started the circle, with an announcement (post committee meeting) that from next week, all Hashers who bring dogs, will have to pay 3 euros each, per dog. Which is a shame really, cos poor old Fender Bender says he will have to pay for two. I can’t work that out, I thought we only had one. The announcement however, was about as popular as an arm wrestling contest in a Leper colony. In fact there were more dogs on this hash, than Hashers. Bless their little wet noses. Dogs or Hashers? Stone the bitch (Grand Mattress, not canine type.)

Stiff called the circle and invited the sole virgin in. He immediately demoted Stiff, by taking over and running the show, with his very good impersonation of Larry Grayson. Get a grip Stiff, or should that be get a Stiff grip? Anyway, he was told to piss off (I think he is going to be called Mr Stupid or something,) and the Hares were called in to explain what kind of torture they had in mind for us. They put some white stuff on the ground, I think it is called flower.

Off we went, up some hills, down some hills, along some flat bits, through some wet bits and then we came to the beer stop. (My second favourite bit.) Loads of Cava, loads of sweeties, balloons, all sorts of Chinese New Year stuff, not to mention Valentines Day, there was even a couple of beers and some crisps. By this time it was becoming clear to most, that Mummies Boy, was not feeling too well, but with the assistance of Veuve Clitoe and Radio Caca, he had managed to  set about one third of his usual ball breaker. The second half of the run, was up some hills, down a precipice, through a reservoir under a tunnel and back to the cars. (My most favourite bit.) What no one dead, no one in hospital? I think MB was just desperate, not to get back the Hash Shit, which he lost to Gangplank the other week. Curiously, when we got back, there were a couple of weirdo’s hanging about, who were not seen on the hash. There was an enormous, large breasted, hermaphrodite, who looked a bit like Yogi and Oxfam, minus the French plat. Now could it be that their claims of having got lost on the way to the hash, were just a smokescreen, for not listening to the hares last week, or not reading the web page and failing to observe that it was a 2 0’ Clock start?

The circle was called, and all the usual pleasantries observed. Stiffany pratted around a bit, the virgin was called and tested on Hash names, anniversarios (are they a kind of breakfast cereal?) were called, the hares were awarded a ridiculously high mark (probably as a bribe for MB’s next run not to be a ball breaker) and the circle was handed over to the RA, Flakey, for the cleansing of sins. Flakey proceeded to enjoy cleansing everyone of their relevant, or totally fabricated sins, Everton couldn’t have been playing, so he had nothing better to do. He did however christen Alastair as “Crystal Tits” and he shall be known as such for time immemorial. Eventually, Flakey called Mr Stupid, (our Virgin) but he declined the offer and insisted on staying in Crystal Tits’ car. Somehow, I don’t see a long hashing career in his future. Anyway, eventually Flakey got bored with all that power and handed the circle back to the Grand Mattress, who did other things. Eventually she called on the Haremeister, who amongst other things, announced that, during the beer stop, an extraordinary committee meeting had been held, to investigate the bogus committee meeting, which resulted in the persecution of dogs and their owners. The Grand Mattress and her cohort, the RA were treated to a down down, for promoting misinformation and failing to invite the committee members to their “committee” meeting. So the dogs won, unlike Everton who can only draw at best. Long live dogs. Oh all right and Dogsy. Perhaps you can trust some committee members.

With that the proceedings closed. Here endeth the story.

The run was awarded 9.1. Well done Mummies Boy, Veuve Clitoe and Radio Caca. See MB, you don’t need to kill anyone.

 Anniversarios.

 Oxfam      90    (Does that include this one for which he was absent? Still, not bad for twenty years.

 Rubhertwat    30   (But she doesn’t look it!!!!)

 Just say (G)When    10    (She’s a poet, but she divn’t naa it.)

 And finally.

Did anyone notice that Colonic Irrigation brought a note from his Mum, which said, “Can Colon Boy be excused Hashing this week, as he has got a runny nose?” With his name, maybe it wasn’t his nose!!!!!!!!!

However, his much better half, Gangbang managed to do the Hash, even with her lodger on board. Curious!!!!

 Fraid I didn’t go to the On On Ons, so one of you will have to tell me about the meal.

 Next weeks Hares. Dogsy and Mary Hinge

 So, on that bombshell,

 On On

 Hobble Gobble.       

Run 1129 - Venta Los Morenos area

7th February

Hares:- Just say when & Gangplank

Dafodildos Pictures Here

 

Run 1128 - El Coto area

31st January

Hares:- 5-Mil & HMV

 

Run 1127 - La Cala Marks:9

24th January

Hares:- Dafadildo & Colonic

Dafodildos Pictures Here

The Second Run at La Cala in Two Weeks but Three Beer Stops Run -- Hares: Colonic Irrigation and DaffyDildo. Your Scribe, Dipper
 

Sunday dawned reasonably bright and clear, a relief -- not least for the hares -- since it had been p*ssing down all Saturday.

 

I would like to describe the first one third of the run, but sadly, I am unable to do so, on account of Colonic Irrigation lying when brought into the circle the previous week to announce that his run was starting at 3 PM. What I cannot understand is why everyone/anyone bothered to look at the website to discover that the time had been changed to 2 PM by this sad pair of wankers? Consequently Your Scribe and Gobbychov turned up at 2:55 PM to find the run already well advanced. In fact by a bit of judicious shortcutting, with harey help, we managed to find the first beer stop in full swing.

 

There, Your Scribe fell in love with a long turgid red balloon which incredibly mimicked the characteristics of his own penis. For the next section of the run, he was therefore pleased to display it whilst running to all and sundry; though the highlight (for him at least) was being pulled along by the willy, a feat conducted with great aplomb by Radio Kaka, who fortunately had not realised that Your Scribe had cunningly substituted the balloon with his own fleshy todger. Sadly, having been interrupted by a bit of scrubland, the empty La Cala marketplace, the river and a motorway bridge, Your Scribe fails to achieve climax before reaching the second beer stop.

 

Here, the hares had excelled themselves in laying out a fine spread of red flavoured vodka infused jelly, and gay party balloons were handed out for the next leg of our epic-ish journey. After a brief trip around the seamier parts of La Cala (are there any other parts?) we made it in short order to the third beer stop. By this stage, any lingering doubts about this being a short crappy run uplifted by outrageous bribery and corruption were dispelled by the spread of cakes and choccies on offer some 400 m from the run start.

 

So, on back to the circle where Fender Bender, Hobble Gobble, Gang Bang and Shagadelic received their due recognition for tenacious hashing, Fender Bender relieved every one of their collective guilt, aided and abetted by Jerry Can, and eventually the exhaustive multitude were able to repair to the Great Wall Chinese Food Emporium, where after only an hour's wait, we were stuffed to the gills with monosodium glutamate.

 

All in all, a great day's hashing, and many thanks to the hares for their inventive generosity, and Hashy Birthday to DaffyDildo.

 

Your Scribe

 

Dipper

 

Mummies Boy -Pictures below

 

Run 1126 - La Cala Marks:9

17th January

Hares:- Yogi & Yorkshire Gripper

This is Big Mac who was undemocratically elected as the Scribe for Run 1126. I started the run with a serious hangover from a 60^th birthday party the night before (and much of the current morning) but once again the fresh air and fun put paid to it.

The run was from atop a hill in La Cala and there was a good turnout of some 40 hashers including as sprinkling of visitors and virgins, and the sun even shone after a lengthy absence from the Costa del Sol. The 3 o’clock run start came and went and it was nearer 3:45 before the Hare finally imparted his instructions. Confusingly he had devised his own marking system: this was almost guaranteed to lead to problems and indeed it did, of which more later. Because of the abundance of horseshit the markings were combined with this novel material, but in fact somebody had sabotaged the markings for the first kilometre or so, covering up the flour with stones, cardboard and the like. We managed to find the trail nonetheless, and we finally encountered the infamous curvy arrow which sent the trail off into a veritable forest of gorse and then ending in a check-back from which we could not find the right trail. We fanned out in so many different directions and found several trails, but all of these ended in a check-back.  Front runners and the back markers were by now consolidated into one angry pack intent on stoning the Hare. Indeed, the run was to all intents and purposes abandoned at this point and the pack chose to head back to the start running the risk of bypassing the beer stop. However, as luck would have it, the correct trail was stumbled across and we made it to the beer stop. The Hare was unapologetic blaming the Hashers for their poor navigational skills. After a pleasant beer stop under the early evening sun, the Hare offered the pack two choices: a real hashers run, or a women and wimps version. Most chose the real hashers run which alarmingly led us downhill towards the coast instead of back up hill towards the run start. As a result we became rather spread out, but we did eventually start to climb again and arrived back from whence we had come. As there was an early booking at the restaurant, the circle was convened fairly quickly but it was noted that one harriette had not returned and HMV set off in search of his wife. Happily she was recovered and was able to give her vote for the run. The overall score was 7.5 and with one or two exceptions that was the typical score awarded. The confused markings were perhaps the major failing but the territory was appealing with its mix of hills, valleys, urbanisations and prickles.

Our virgins, most of whom were enticed by Shagadelic were Lesley, Sue, Ciara (an Irish maiden) and Victor.  Visiting were Huge Cum Balls, Joan of Tarts and Gorballs ( a fellowe Scot).

The anniversarios were Gobichov (240), Put it in (60), Swiss Roll (220) and Colonic (110).

The RA neatly attired as ever then set about cleansing us of our sins. The hares, Yogi And Yorkshire Gripper were chastised for their trail laying and the even more cardinal sin of running short of beer.  Other offenders were Radio Kaka and Oxfam for excess fraternisation;  Tweetsky Pie, for walking with a pronounced limp L I M P – pronounced limp!  Big Mac – for being Scottish, and various others at the whim of the RA.

 

The On on was at some restaurant that sounded like Dingles where various roasts were on offer without apparently a vegetarian option and then a further, more serious On on on was suggested.  Next weeks run will be from La Cala again at 1500hrs. Full details will be posted on the website

 

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