Run No. 1002

Date:                      24 November 2001

Where:                 Rifle Range Road

Occasion:                  Early St Andrew’s Day

Hares:                    Dogshit, Ad Nauseum, Aye Aye, Corny Linguist

Bagless, Gobbler

Members:                50

Guests:                     31           

- Returnees :                  5             

- Visitors :                  1             

- Virgins :                 3

Ha! Fooled you all! Arrived at the run site in the newest of shiny bright new shoes, having sensed a strange lack of footwear in Holland Village at 5.40. So I lurked at the end of the long file of cars and then set off late to catch up (Catch up? Who do you think you’re fooling? - Ed.) with the pack, shoes thoroughly muddied.

Why it took 600 Scotsmen to set a 45-minute run is a conundrum beyond me, but there you are. The heavily predicted whisky susu stop made a welcome appearance about 50 metres from the run site, and managed to delay a few of us a bit longer. And even though the run was on the anorexic side, Saliva had managed to drink so much of the whisky susu while waiting for the pack that her eyes were rotating independently. Despite the shameless attempt to bribe the hash with alcohol, the Hash Shit was not to be denied. The myriad hares did their down downs gallantly – Ad Nauseam appeared to be delighted with the insult - and then Bugles grumpily hauled himself back into the circle and announced that the on on had been summarily cancelled.

But `twas a mere jest. The on on was – what a surprise – at the Red Lantern and Corny Linguist announced that the Scottish Ladies Male Voice Choir would be in attendance.

Next week’s hares are Stuffy and Not Tonight at Woodleigh Park and surrounding cemetery.

Phoney ratted on Chilli Balls whom he had noticed pulling up in a taxi and asking for a receipt so that Bugles can claim it back on expenses. They’re canny, these Scots.

Saliva was a doing a game job attempting to help Bangles with beer pouring duties despite the fact that she was somewhat alcoholically compromised. I was a bit concerned when she started going a strange shade of purple and doing the samba to the hash song, but she seemed to be feeling no pain so what the hell.

Frontarse yelled out, “Now can we do some virgins?” There was general agreement from the audience and Indy contributed the melee but selfishly saying she wanted all the men. In came a very happy virgin – Dylan - who had been seen following Ditch and laughing all the way round. (The sight of Ditch attempting to run has that effect on me too. - Ed.) And Laurie and Sally were also welcomed. Sally from Korea had confided to Desperation  (Not a good idea! – Ed.) that she finds every one on the hash “very exciting”!!!!!  Obviously doesn’t get out much in Korea.

Only one visitor – Hagar - but I had trouble following the plot here as I was being distracted by Boo’s running commentary on anything and everything. So I did what any sensible hasher would do and snitched on him to the bosses. Putting him on the ice for a while shut him up but you can bet I won’t be taking any short cuts he offers me next week! No Good kept him company.

Frontarse welcomed in the returnees – Captain Red Arrow, King Leer and – er – Murray. “Who’s he?” he wanted to know. A huge outcry from the old timers rent the sky as they informed him that Murray and the venerable Captain Red Arrow are one and the same. Frontarse coped with the inevitable down down but then proceeded to get himself further in trouble by attempting to blame Ripper, who’s responsible for writing down the guests. Ripper leapt into the circle, squinted at the offending name and informed him with withering scorn “that’s Murkury”. Another down down for the hapless GM for not quite having mastered the tricky science of reading joined-up writing. Murkury and Barf Wader were finally welcomed back. And another returnee was guest hare Gobbler.

Frontarse – obviously a bit confused by his sudden collision with a couple of rapid down downs – now called for the Mystery Whip which caused another uprising in the ranks of the hares who had been fighting each other for the privilege of being Hare Whip. Frontarse had down down no 3.

While all this was going on and the proceedings were basically going nowhere, Stuffy was iced for distracting the circle scribe – a hanging offence if you ask me. And he was delighted to show everyone exactly what he’s hiding under that sarong as he gingerly lowered himself onto the cold stuff.

Finally we got to the Hare Whip and in waltzes Aye Aye. His first charge was to Chastity Belt for being unbalanced. Well, that’s what it says here.  The problem in fact was that Chastity Belt was a bit too well-balanced - in that instead of sporting the hare list on one arm of his shirt and the Scottish flag on the other he had two identical arms, or the same arm on both sides – or something. He tried to give us a graphic display of this physical condition, contorting himself like a human pretzel and looking fit to cause himself severe injury, but couldn’t avoid a down down.

Then Aye Aye waxed wroth with rage and hauled in the unfortunate Stuffy from the ice for daring in his presumption to say that next week’s run is the genuine St Andrew’s Day article just because it happens to be on the right date. He gave Stiffy a quick Scots lesson. “Repeat after me!” he roared. “It’s a braw bricht moonlit nicht tonicht!” Stuffy tried his Home Counties best. “I say, it’s rather a pleasant evening, what?”  Down down for the Hibernian wannabe.

Indianus did her policing act now and grabbed hold of a couple of guys who just would not shut up. What Pitstop and Philthy Phil have to talk about all the time is beyond me – a never-ending stream of rubbish, I’ll be bound. So it was the ice for the garrulous duo – and Pitstop showed his class by inserting a twig up his bum before taking to the ice. “That’s called getting rooted!” chortled Ripper.

Well it was time for the Mystery Whip and to universal groans it turned out to be Twiggy Arse. Pitstop is not known for brevity. And he has the hide of a rhinoceros so he carried on regardless even when people started committing hara kiri as he wittered on – and on – and on…. So I’ll try to keep this brief. (Which is more than he did! – Ed.) He firstly called in Ivy - Mrs. Foo Foo – who had apparently said hallo to him at the beginning of the run. (Always a mistake. - Ed.) Ditch was called in because be tried to form an intimate relationship with a large bush as he was running along. No Good got called in because she kept flicking bushes aside so they went straight into Pitstop’s face – so he hit her back with the twig he had in his hand – and we all know where that had been, don’t we, dear readers? Then he called in Mr. T., who was also guilty of saying hallo to him. As Coo Chi Coo ironically remarked, “Obviously Pitstop’s really popular.” Then he called in Dogshit who was supposed to be sweeping but ended up at the front of the pack. And Hand Job for asking if they could have a shower together and then going off with Big Hammer.

Let’s have a bit of a pause here. As you can see, Pitstop was doing his impression of how to get more people in the circle than out of it. I think I need to lie down for a while…..

To continue. Loose Change was called in for choosing a small tee shirt this week so she could show off her tits, which she did to great effect. Jack Off was noted for asking Pitstop to help soap off her legs, which were covered in mud, obviously taking advantage of Slocum’s absence.

Now Pitstop lost whatever were left of his marbles and called in Barf Widow. Or was that Black Wader. She had been overheard saying she was exhausted at the end of the run, as she had run up the last hill. Pitstop wanted to know why she hadn’t run the whole way.

How many does that make now? I dunno, but Bagels and Saliva were run ragged trying to fill beer mugs for the hordes of down downs called for by Mr. Verbal Diarrhoea, now renamed Nonstop by the aghast masses who had to sit through the above.

Indianus returned to the circle and asked for silence. Surprisingly she got it from everyone except the bullfrogs. She leapt around trying to put them on the ice while the rest of the hash made “ribbit, ribbit” noises. It’s all a bit sad, isn’t it? “I was just thinking…..”  started Indy, and of course got no further as howls of incredulity drowned her out. Anyway, she was there to present an impressive and apposite award to our indefatigable Sybil. After Pitstop’s performance we promise we’ll never sit down when she tells one of her stories any more. Anyway, the Hasher of the Millennium was presented with pewter for her staggering 700 runs with Lion City.

Prick of the Week was supposed to be presented by Hand Job but Frontarse had a sad story to tell. Hand Job had confided in him that she couldn’t find the Prick - “It must be inside,” she apparently said. Many willing gentlemanly types offered to try and find it for her.

Time for AOB. Coo Chi Coo noticed that the last hash members’ list had an extra column of cryptic little numbers. At first he thought it was people’s ages, but no – next to his name it said “40”.  It turned out to be tee shirt sizes. He then picked on someone who would rather have his tee shirt size publicised than his age – Phoney Dick – and noted that some people would rather have their age known than their shirt size – Philthy Phil, and er – Desperation. I’m amazed she didn’t give him a good spanking for that.

And he had a gem from his beloved Straits Times. Obviously all he does all day is scour it for silly articles. This time it was one about US doctors helping in executions, unfortunately positioned next to a Sony ad that looked very much like someone in the electric chair. For some reason Squire and Korean Sally were punished for this solecism.

Stiffy now called in Jason for yet another 1000th run thank you. Jason got a goodie bag for sponsoring a barrel of beer even though the beer on the day was provided by Brewerks.

And Corny Linguist drew attention to the fact that the wine for the event was so rough it that when he took home a bag of leftovers, he found sandpaper in the bag as well – and went round the circle touching everyone up with said sandpaper just to prove it.

It was now nearly dawn so the one final AOB was a welcome back to Strapless from his nasty little stay in hospital.

And finally, finally, on to the on on where things all got very festive in a make-your-own-entertainment kind of way as the guitars came out courtesy of Captain Red Arrow and Chastity Belt and the hares belted out all that sentimental crap that the Scots come out with on occasions like this. “The Lights of Old Aberdeen,” for heaven’s sake. I mean, have you ever actually been to Aberdeen??? “I Belong To Glasgow.” Sooner you than me, mate! Amidst all the Scottish stuff some of you oldies might even have noticed a couple of Syph and the Sores numbers re-emerge from a long hibernation. Anyway, thanks to the bevy of hares for a thoroughly entertaining evening, and thanks for the very popular tee shirt, even if the colour scheme seemed more Australian than Scottish!

On On!

Black Widow

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