Where: Minden Road

Hares: Vietnam Rose, Hard Lay and others including a nice man who looked after my bag when I arrived late

When: June 2 2000

Guests: 20

Members: 49

Visitors: 5

Returnees: 3

A great film of the fifties - "Lost Weekend." Starring the brilliant but underrated Ray Milland - he spends the entire film in a drunken stupor trying to hock his beloved typewriter (he's a failed writer, by the way) in order to buy another drink…. Now, why did I think of that? Oh, could be because I'm doing the first cold newsletter (i.e. without notes) 'cos I left my hash bag in Hard Lay's car last night after Anywhere, so this is from memory only…

Well, the run was fine and short - so short indeed that your scribe did a first, and actually did the extra loop round the Botanic Gardens (great new Cactus Garden, by the way). Everyone likes that area. Apparently we're going to do it again shortly when Lynxx does her farewell run. Dare you to get me lost, Lynxx!

At the run site a certain amount of headless-chicken stuff went on as only two committee members seemed to be present at the end of the run (sorry - three - I missed you out, Gypsy, but let's face it - you normally do your own thing anyway.) So there we were with a lucifugous circle (that's for Coo Chi Coo) sorted out by our ever resourceful Corny Linguist. This man has talents that refuse to take a back seat.. Life saving? He does it. Electrical problems? He's there. No lights? No problem. Need a lift? Look no further. Hats off to you, CL!

By this stage all sorts of non-running committee members had turned up in mufti - Astronut hot from Korea, Dingle Berry hot from Orchard Road and Pussyfoot just - well - hot. So there we were in this darkened arena, full of strangers on bicycles (Tom Werry and - Good Lord - Ray Ang) as our revered GM tried (ineffectually ) to call the unruly crowd to order. Now this is where you have to bear with me. You might remember it differently.

Good run was the eventual verdict (I won't wear the "too short" bit - after all, I did the Botanic Gardens loop). And the on-on at Bernie's was announced. Rose, of course, didn't need to ask for numbers - she had it all sorted out. (Great on-on, by the way. People tell me I really enjoyed it.) Next week's run was announced in the absence off the hares - somewhere in Woodlands, I seem to remember. Bushy and Barbarian, anyway.

Then what happened? Time for a cup of tea and a fag.

Right. (Lipton's is much better than Boh, by the way.)

Virgins were called in - and I seem to remember that some of them actually turned up. There were two hunky guys and a long cool Dane called Petra that got all the male members' (I use the word deliberately) attention. I think the "Little Flat Chested" refrain was a bit mean , guys…

Oh, the relief. A mate has just called round to take me to the Colbar and I've inveigled him to take me to Hard Lay's place and pick up my bag. I actually did remember most of it. Amazing. Anyway, I'm off to the pub now, and all points west - I'll pick this up tomorrow.

Anywhere on a Saturday night. Don't go there… Anyway, I thought he was Dutch. OK back to the matter in hand.

Dingle Berry called in the visitors - Tim, Rob (why no hash name yet?) Pippa, Mark from Perth, and Sweetie (Mr.Hard Lay to them that know him) and various Sunday reprobates - Skid Marks, Elephant Man and Veronica.

Very welcome returnees were Smooch ( oh this Spell Check problem!)(one of the first people I met on the Hash way back in 1985), Down Under (looking far too stylish as ever), and Brian Rader (still sexy!).

New member Pecker Checker was duly inaugurated. Just stop running so fast, PC!
Astronut, cool as ever as he calls for silence from the unruly crowd, called for the Hare Whip. What a surprise - the ever-shy Vietnam Sore (honestly - it's the Spell Check!) steps forward. She had a good call - people who didn't actually do the run but made a special stop for the T-shirt - Death Wish, Condom ands Running Shit were duly punished, She also called in Lynxx for doing a bit of part time recceing round the Botanic Gardens for her leaving run. (Hey Rose - I did the extra bit too….) "Little Flat Chested" was the nasty retort from the circle. (Girls. why don't we form a refrain along the lines of, "He's got a small dick but he's all right".)

Some fairly major milestones were asked to strut their stuff. Gypsy finally got to 250 of his own idiosyncratic runs, (and, gosh, was he prepared, with serried ranks of shorts so not even Rose could actually denude him), and the venerable Dirty Hacker - whose name deserves a place in the halls of greatness - for 400 ruins. (It's the Spell Checker I tell you) Check him out on the hash hotline on Fridays, guys - even if you know where the run is.

Oh, my God, the Mystery Whip was Sybil. An early moan at Astronut for giving her short notice segued into another moan about taxis not knowing where Minden Road was - particularly if you're coming from Muddy Murphy's. Poor Mark the Virgin arrived at 7.20 (hope he still paid his guest fees). No excuses, Mate! Her second charge was something to do with someone going to the doctor to get something for his left leg and finding his middle leg growing. Or was I eating magic mushrooms at the time? Anyway, the guy with the name I won't print in a family newsletter was down-downed.

After Shock was called in for either crossing or not crossing her legs at the appropriate moment - I forget which. Apparently, she's "saving it for later". (Well, so am I, AS, but later seems to take a long timer to arrive…)

Mystery Whip was our sartorially-elegant Loose Change in a little number she ran up herself (and. yes, I do want one!). She was looking for four gentleman (fat chance on Lion City - except for our hero, Corny Linguist). Well, she obviously thought the ironical same, as she called out Running Shit and Stiffy for asking if it took more than one sarong to make her little red dress. Shame on you, guys! Chastity Belt and Bagless were charged with the more user-friendly crime of asking for copies….

Lynxx was also called in for wanting to take the sarong party dress to the UK to help her with her "night work"!!!! We'll miss you, Lynx. Give 'em hell in Canterbury!

Dingle Berry called in Prick of the Week Strapless - who apparently had gone to a church meeting so left it in the office, as he didn't want it (the offending large black thing) to be seen in his car, Wimp or what? All sorts of mayhem ensued, including Front Arse getting his bit in (!) but I seem to decipher that Hand Job was better that Sybil - or something, Watch this space. I'll be back. Alcohol beckons.

Well, O.K., he wasn't Dutch, but the Four Seasons does a splendid lunch. It's all downhill from here.

Pussy of the Week had to do with grandparents. All beyond me. Anyway, I've had too much champagne.

AOB - well, let's not go that way. We all have bad moods.

Shit Stream called in Squire because he wanted to look at his wife's arse. (Surely he can do that at home? - Ed.) Apparently Gypsy doesn't know the difference between Squire's and Faker's behinds. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Bad luck, Zipp. Front Arse at this stage was doing something so unspeakable to himself that Lynxx had to ask him to stop it as he was frightening the horses. (Old English saying - do what you like but don't frighten the horses). Gypsy's third layer of shorts came in very useful here…

So we all went to the on-on. Corny Linguist, Rob (give that man a Hash name) and I drove around uselessly until I suggested in my drunken state that we tried the OUB (UOB?) car park and then we tottered off to Bernie's for a great on-on. Good music, a great venue. A bit different from the usual coffee shop makan and singsong, certainly. And all sorts of interesting things happened to me after that…... First of all….. (Not in this newsletter - Ed.)

Spoilsport.

On On

Black Widow

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