Date: Friday 6 April

Where: Cactus Road

Hares: Barbarian and Bushy

Members: 46

Guests: 19

Virgins: 0

Visitors: 3

Returnees: 1

A devilishly fiendish run, stuffed with back checks in the jungle, with the hares popping up all the way round to have a good chortle at the discomfited front runners. And they weren’t the only ones laughing either. The river at the first check proved to be surprisingly deep – as Dog Shit and others found out, with a steep and muddy climb out the other side – for all those idiotic enough to actually go through it. The thunderous looks on their faces, as they had to shamefacedly retrace their sodden steps - and swim again. Laugh! You bet. Well done, hares, for an imaginative and tricky run  – well, more of a nature scramble really -  through wild and woolly jungle terrain, one visitor even being felled by a falling tree. Doubt if we’ll see him again. He didn’t look too impressed, anyway…

Lots of politicking going on at the circle as it was the last chance for people to nominate (Don’t you mean press gang? Ed.) people for the new committee. But Astronut eventually called the circle to order and with typical enthusiastic complaining from the circle pronounced it a Good Run. Bushy and Barbarian announced the on-on at a Cactus Road eatery nearby. Next week’s run involves a hare and a harem – it’s Impossible and his gaggle of relatively unattached ladies and it’s going to be at that old standby, Dempsey Road.

No Good, whom Astronut unkindly introduced as Blur Bitch, strolled in to introduce the – er – lack of virgins. But she had a few visitors to parade before us – Mrs. Tinky Wonky, Zero from Monday (ptui!) and the unfortunate tree man, Bungee, from Oz,

Tin Cock was welcomed back for what seems like his annual run. I think he only comes along to present his yearly cheque in person and then disappears back to the twilight zone of creative dentistry.

Barbarian was the Hare Whip. He very properly homed in on someone who had been whingeing all the way round about the lack of running because of the murderous terrain. Well, a lot of them were doing that, but when he said it was So Cunt Chong, whose normal pace is slightly below that of an arthritic snail, I was amused by the irony. Anyway, SCC, after he had found the road and was in danger of actually being able to run, thought better of it and did a short cut. What a surprise.

Barbarian had also been tickled by the sight of Dog Shit wallowing around in the river like a hippo in the throes of an epileptic attack, and promptly whipped him. Personally, I would have got him for his bizarre attire - a peculiar shirt that made him look like a wannabe KFC server. Very odd.

Corny Linguist was the Mystery Whip and tried to get Stiff for his whizzing backwards and forward on the run like a demented yo-yo uttering strange cries of, “Another fucking backcheck!” and then having to go forwards again ‘cos it wasn’t. Stiff had wisely absented himself so Stiffy, not looking like him in the least, did soundalike duties.

Then he went into some unsavoury tale about Peanut sniffing his undies in the back of his car and then trying to pull his shorts down on the run. (She’s being committed to Woodbridge next week – Ed.)

Barbarian was also extremely peripatetic on the run, said CL, sweeping from the back, as is normal, and then suddenly popping up at the front. Corny made the observation that all his charges had to do with backsides. Well, I can just see it, I suppose.

He also got Mockery for leaving us to go to Bangkok, but I don’t think this has anything to do with anyone’s backside, Could be wrong, though.

MMW was – what a surprise! – Murkily himself, who gave his first charge to she who should have been MMW but got collywobbles at the last minute. Yes, the normally effusive Warlike Talkie came over all shy and unnecessary and refused to do circle duties. Murkily made sure she was dragged into the circle to be ritually humiliated. He then focused on the backwards – forwards-backcheck–no-it-isn’t contingent on the run and called in the leader of the ricocheting front-running bastards – Front Arse.

Prick of the Week was announced by Blur Bitch – it was Sad Bastard, if you remember. He gave it to Barbarian for setting and calling checks that weren’t there, or something. This led Astronut to comment that the hash appears to be turning gay, with all the men handing on the Prick to each other. Come on, guys, it’s meant for us girlies, you know. We know what to do with it.

Pussy was White Chinaman, who commented that there were more hashers at his surprise birthday party than at his run. (His party wasn’t in Tampines – Ed.) Too true. Anyway, on that august occasion one hasher got upset because he introduced her by the wrong name. He insisted that there were extenuating circumstances.(Pissed? Alzheimer’s? – Ed.) Dunno. But the lady in question was Hand Job, and he introduced her to the party as Jack Off. As a late birthday present, he wanted the ladies to demonstrate the difference between a Hand Job and a Jack Off. The two toothsome ladies weren't having any, so he didn’t get any. But there were some suitably ribald and bizarre suggestions from the assembly about the precise difference between the two procedures. And he got Jack Off for asking everyone in the river if the water was up to her panties yet. Hmm……

AOB – No Good to Bangles, who has been here for 29 years and still doesn’t know where the Orchard Road PO is. Actually, neither do I, but I kept my mouth shut. (Is that the place where Hooray lives in PO Box 3? – Ed.) Don’t ask me. This is one of those hash mysteries.

And Gypsy swanned in as usual, who noted that he was talking away to Front Arse when he suddenly noticed that FA was ventriloquizing through his dick. It was only on looking down that Gypsy realized that all the while there had been this tiny female standing between them. Poor vertically-challenged Annie was dragged in the circle and most of the men suggested she was welcome to come and sit on their knees any time. Small, but perfectly formed.

Murkury got done again for leaving, and I brought in the still stunned Bungee for being felled by a tree. He just stared vacantly around for a bit and seemed to have forgotten the sound of his own name. Brain dead, obviously.  I hope that hash insurance is up to date.

And off to a great on-on with singing from the usual suspects and a very funny story from Poser about exactly why she ended up in Ponggol last week which I had to promise not to repeat. It seems to involve this guy on a motorbike, three chickens and a small packet of lard… (Stop right there! – Ed.) You always spoil my fun, you bastard…. (Just keeping you out of court – Ed.)

Oh well.

On on!

Black Widow

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