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RUN REPORTS 2010
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The Burro Hash |
Home Hare line Contact List Hash History Links Run Reports 2010 Jokes Email us
RUN REPORTS 2010
RUN NO: 1133 HARES: Colonic & Tweetskipie
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.
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.
Mummies Boy -Pictures below
This is Big Mac who was undemocratically elected as the Scribe for Run 1126. I started the run with a serious hangover from a 60th 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
We have now had torrential rain, continuously for about 4 weeks, so we knew it would be a wet run.
However there was a slight let up in the downpour just at the start of the run, before it started coming at us from all angles. So, after seeing no virgins, the photo was swiftly taken and off we ran.
The first check completely fooled us, but as the markings were extremely good despite the rain that was now starting, we managed to find the trail, and set of in search of the beer stop.
After finding every check back and false trail, we finally found Dipper and Gobichov under a tree drinking Brandy, and having Tapas, Good job they brought some for us as well. So after a short rest, and well fortified we continued on our way.
We soon realised the Brandy was not just to warm us up but to fill us full of bravado for the precipice to follow. We slid and slipped our way around the hillside to a check back, where the front runners kindly waited for everyone to catch up. After setting back along the trail to find the correct way which was soon found, we headed off down the hill, through a tunnel, in the river, out the river, lots of shiggy and back through another tunnel. And finally the On In, a welcome sight, as by now, the feeling in all limbs had disappeared and the only dry bit on my body was… wet as well.
And Blue, well he still smells like a dead goat.
With the rain gently falling, and snow on the hills behind us, a short circle followed. The hares were awarded a well earned 9.
Anniversaries, Streaky 150, Radio caca 10 sorry can’t remember anymore, the frostbite was setting in.
I do remember Flakey having a few sinners into the circle, for turning up in fancy dress when it was a normal run, Hobble Gobble as Ghandi, Colonic as Ali G, Big Mac who looked like the Tin Man, Tweekski for looking like The Russian Mafia. The rain was getting heavier though so after directions for next weeks run, thankfully the circle was closed, and we made a run for the cars.
Luckily for us, we had to pass our house to get to the On On On so with a five minute window, some of us managed to fit in a quick hot shower and dry clothes, closely followed by an excellent three course Sunday Roast at El Brujo.
Roll on Summer!!1
Your scribe Stiffanny
Constable Pussy
Click for Dafodildo´s Pictures
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