Run 1767 - 19 September 2021
Run 1767
Sunday 19 September 2021
Location: Casa 911, La Cala
Visitor: Butt Plug (West London)
Long Lost Hasher: Mountie (last seen 11 years ago)
Scribe: JerryCan
Hashers assembled in 911’s back yard, with a fine view of the sea and the local infants’ school. In the hare talk, we were warned to be careful not to fall off a cliff…lots of dubious looks. We were then directed out of the back yard, at which point Gang Bang and Colonic were having a ‘domestic’. Despite being Hash Flash, GB didn’t want to take her phone on the trail. Maybe she was worried she might fall off the cliff and it would get damaged – would probably be the least of her worries. Anyway, a solution was found – the phone travelled in the hare’s car to the Beer Stop where it was reunited with GB.
We quickly found our way into the campo and past the cliff edge, kindly protected by one of the hares, just as well he didn’t take a step back! Uphill, downhill, uphill and on to a Check Back that confused Rubbery Turd, who ‘checked back’ all the way to the preceding check. The true trail was found by Colonic, who told me that it had gone that way the last time, some three years ago. On we went on the path above the stream until we ran out of flour. Several hashers back-tracked and ventured uphill. I carried on, thinking the hares had just forgotten to ‘dob’ their ‘dobber’….and so it turned out to be. The GM (also Chief ‘Non-Hare’) admitted that they’d been too busy yapping – and an all-male team at that!
At the first Beer Stop, 911 generously poured out copious amounts of cava, I think to celebrate his birthday. Several harriettes couldn’t get enough and re-filled their glasses and took them with them on the trail to the next beer/cava stop. Gang Bang seemed to have brought her own large wine glass, which was only just up to the job. At this point Dogsy pitched up on his electric bike (and we all thought he was grafting away at the pedals). In accessing the next cava/beer stop, several hashers clambered over the wall (following Where’s The Off Switch), not realising that some nice gentle steps lay ahead. After more cava, it was a gentle downhill stroll back to Casa 911.
Numerous hashers couldn’t resist 911’s indoor/outdoor pool and took the plunge in various states of undress – fortunately Salmonella wasn’t around. Eventually, the GM called the circle to order and Butt Plug correctly named three (or even four) of us. As the GM was the Chief ‘Non-Hare’, Colonic oversaw the scoring of the trail (with two of the hares now seated on ice and the third with Colonic’s sleeve strategically placed up his arse). The scoring took some time. Butt Plug led the way with a ‘1’, quickly realising that scoring a trail is a bit non-sensical, but his effort was undermined by the next two hashers awarding scores of 9.9 and 9.8. Mummy’s Boy insisted on commenting even though he ventured no further than the pool. I think the end result was 9.1 (should have been 9.11!).
Colonic handed control of the circle back to the GM who immediately handed it back to Colonic. This is where things get a bit hazy. Various hashers were called in to atone for their sins, and all were made to sit on the ice. The Bradwee family featured initially – can’t remember the sin, but dad was called in and the kids enthusiastically joined in the singing ‘you’re stupid, you’re stupid,…’. Mountie was welcomed back, JerryCan was unjustly punished for Man Utd beating West Ham (the nearest PL team to the RA’s Essex stomping ground). Where’s The Off Switch was called in because Colonic couldn’t find the ‘off switch’. I understand he considered pushing a few appendages, but decided this might get him into trouble! Achy Breaky Arse was called in – I was going to suggest ‘She’s alright, she’s alright…., but somebody beat me to it with something less suggestive. Spits ‘n Swallows was also on the ice (an appropriate name for a scouser). Half way through proceedings, Gang Bang asked the RA for permission to leave the circle to go for a swim, which was granted – so sweet, such marital bliss. We did later sing something about her in Russian!
The RA forgot to punish the GM for his f**k up with his car keys, so French Erection took to the stage. When they got home from last week’s OnOn, having downed too much wine because of the appallingly slow service at El Brujo (unusual to be fair), the GM could not find the key to his BMW. They searched high and low (and left and right) but could find no key. So the GM decided he had to get a new key – anybody could find the other one and drive away his pride and joy (the car not French Erection). To his horror (he is from Yorkshire) he was told by the BMW dealer that a new key would cost €400 and that it would take another €65 to deprogram the lost key. If he’d gone to the ferreteria, it would’ve cost €50! Soon after handing over the dosh, he realised the key was in the pocket of his shorts, which he’d changed out of because they were wet (I’m assuming ice was the cause!). They found the shorts…and there was the key, but too late….
At this point the circle was being kept alive because there was a delay to the delivery of the takeaway – not sure if the Indian restaurant had a supply chain issue (no stray cats or dogs) or if the driver couldn’t find Casa 911. Anyway, just after the co-hare announced it would be another two minutes, we heard the door bell ping. Too late in the day for Jehova’s Witnesses – so had to be the Indian.
