Run: 1933

Date:17/11/2014

Location: SEQ Run Ormeau

Hare: Sir Slab

Runners:37

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Run 1933 Annual GCCH & Brisbane Joint Hash Run

A high attendance of 38 GCHHH gathered at the Shearers Arms Tavern , Ormeau for a joint run with 20++ something desperate Hashers from the Brisbane Hash.

A great effort by Sir Slab and Anchovy who spent several hours setting a special trail and walk. At the pre-run briefing Sir Slab started to explain how the run and walk was planned!

These photos below show how Sir Slab’s initial composure quickly was reduced to a totally confused state of mind!!

“I forget what I actually did ???”… he was heard mumbling to himself.

Then with his arms waving in all directions it was obvious there was only one way we could run if we actually followed the arrows

The Run

With the incentive to run as fast as possible a large group of walkers and runners set off on the well-marked trail.

The run crossed the roadway, up the hill, across the bush, around the park etc etc etc. All rather predictable for the location.

The first GCHH runners back and heavily sweating were 2 Dogs ,Circumference and Botcho.

Sweep Bent Banana noted that Brewtus ,Sir Black Stump and Ballpoint tried very stay in front of the Brisbane runners and were very lucky to be be able to find their way back to the pub so quickly.

Sir Slab gave the unbiased run report.

“Trail was very well marked, lots of checks, on-backs, grassy hills and lots of bush to get around”

It was an excellent run as no runners complained about the distance of the run this week due to the Circle being cut very short. Overall a very well planned run by Sir Slab & Anchovy

THE Walkers

This evening the GM actually went on the walk. However this event was a very short lived walk as soon as they got to the top of the first small hill it was unaminously decided the GM , Kwakka and Swindler should return to the pub to make sure all was under control for the runners and walkers when they returned.

Good to Sir AH , Hard On , Shat ,Phantom, Weekly ,Wrongway & Jigsaw all enjoying the slow amble on the walk as they discussed world affairs.

A very well planned walk which all walkers completed for the first time. A well planned walk over the hill, around the park and up the roadway for a total time of 40 minutes over the 3km. Well done again to this group of finely tuned athletes.

The Pub Location

What can you say when its only $14 for meals,beer and gambling money !!

Great value for money and excellent location.

Cautic was the big winner of the night as with his $3 cash injection he hit the jackpot!..The jackpot money was immedaitly donated to Hash Consolidated Revenue by Caustic…thanks Caustic as this is very welcome funds to be added to the Hierachy Xmas Fund.

The CIRCLE

Sir Rabbit is obviously trying to de-clutter his house in his later years. He is well known for all the hash items he has accumulated over a lifetime. He recently found the Inaugural 1971 Brisbane Hash Cup hidden under his bed. We wonder what else is under there after 45 years.

With great pride in very formal ceremony and dressed in the appropriate Formal Hash attire Sir Rabbit returned it to the rightful owners of the Brisbane Hash.

Icings

The RA as always is desperate to use his power and on the lookout for a new candidates. It appear that as Weekly was able to keep a low profile he extracted his vengeance on a repetitious basis on Flasher and Ballpoint.

Bent Banana and Weekly were very lucky to be able stay under the radar and were saved from another icing from the deranged vengeance of Caustic.

Useless T- Shirt Award

Veteran tried to give the Useless award to BlueCard. By unanimous resolution of the Hash circle it was decided that Veteran keep it for another week.

Prick of the Week

Still missing in action somewhere?

Report by GM

GM in full Hash Formal dress and his trademark Mankini called all to order and apologized for running late as his waxing appointment had taken longer than usual.

He advised that the only announcement due to meal the waiting in the pub was that the Hash Formal Cocktail party had now closed. Makes you wonder why he got so dressed up for such an announcement.

End of CIRCLE ……. @ 7.15pm

Swindler

Run: 1932

Date:10/11/2014

Location: Runaway Bay

Hare: Veteran

Runners: 37

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…..LEST WE REMEMBER!

People remember Remembrance Day for varied reasons but in essence it is to pay homage to those who fought and sacrificed themselves for the benefit of those of us still living….. The freedom that we, in the West at least, enjoy and which is the envy of those poor buggers without it.

There is something particularly wholesome about the annual Remembrance Day celebrations, starting with the Dawn Service, the splendid-looking old Diggers in their starch pressed uniforms and gleaming medals, red poppies, the silence, the Ode of Remembrance and the Last Post. It’s simple, it’s honourable, it’s a dignified way of remembering our veterans at the Cenetaph.

The Gourmet Hash has it’s very own veteran, a bloke we call “Veteran” (Bloody genius whoever thought of that) and one who fought bravely and survived the Boer War, the Great War, WW2, the Korean War and Vietnam. Recently, he put up his hand for deployment to Afghanistan but despite forging his age in his passport the authorities weren’t to be fooled this time and, at the ripe young age of 126yrs old, he was told “Thanks, but no thanks ole timer, it’s time to put the feet up instead”.

Veteran would have none of that of course, so instead of heading to Iraq, he headed to Hope Island where he set a run for his ‘mates’ at the GCH3.

-“And just like Iraq” commented Two Dogs in the Circle “it was an absolute fucking fiasco. As a war experience it probably rate fairly well” he continued, “but as a hashing experience it was a total fuck-up!!!”

For an added special-effects-touch to the proceedings, Veteran proved that there were no lingering hard feelings when he introduced a German who he’d injured in the Dardanelles and who he’d cared for after the Germans threw in the towel and headed back home. Passing comment on “ze vok”, the German said: “It voz a very good vok. Zer voz some kangaroos but I did not ave my gun to shoot zem.”

Although without hash experience, and having shown no notable inclination or commitment to the Gourmet Hash, the affable German was baptised by the Grand General; from this day forward he will be known as “Fair Dinkum”.

And so, onto the nosh……the Hash held its collective breath as Veteran announced the nosh details. “You know me fellas, I’m a bloody ordinary cook, I fuck up boiling an egg, so I thought that, in keeping with the occasion, I’d let the good ladies from the RSL cook up a storm for youse all. There was an immediate cheer from the pack as they eagerly streamed across the road to the local RSL club. And what a storm it was, including lovely stewed mince, some roasted pumpkin and some boiled veges. Only ‘Not Tonight’ (Josephine) was heard complaining: “Fuck this crunchy veges bullshit…..if I want al fucking dente veges I’ll ask for them, but I want mine boiled to almost mash consistency. Gives me the bloody shits all this al dente crap”.

While the rest of the Hash was enjoying the RSL ‘treat’ some of them began reminiscing of days ago…..

Ferret told of a time when he attended the annual Mekong Hash brouhaha. He takes up the story:

-” We was sailing down the Mekong on this thing called a slowwwwwwwwboat and slow it bloody was too. We were heading to a run site with my bird ‘Sheep’ and about 20 odd local hashers. At one point we had to pull in on the Laotian side of the river to refuel at this tiny fishing village but when we almost done, 2 blokes with AK47 and balaclavas jumped aboard and threatened to kill us if we didn’t hand over our possesions. After some negotiating, the Skipper came over and said that they’d be prepared to let us keep our possessions as long as they got to keep ‘Sheep’. I told the Skip that I valued my wallet more than anything else and so they were most welcome to her. After we’d fucked off out of there the other hashers came to thank me for my generosity but I told ’em it was no big deal………in fact, if truth be told, she was a bit of a dud root anyway!”

Truck Tyres told of a time back in ’94 at the Rotorua Interhash in NZ.

-“The Hash was bloody awesome but it was the after hours shenanigans that made it truly great. There was that much bangin’ going on that they renamed our hotel the ‘Get Lucky’ Hotel. Anyway I’m a discreet kinda guy and I had my eye on this big Maori bird called Haka Haka who, as luck would have it, lived locally. One night I was following her back to her place -I was a bit pissed- when I tripped on this bloody tree root across the pathway; I fell headlong into the scrub besides losing me fucking glasses….

I was back in Rotorua 9 years later on me honeymoon and on this one night the cheese and kisses was off her tucker so I tucked ‘er in the cot and went looking for me ole flame Haka. I’d had a few that night too and as I walked up the path to her front door I tripped on that same bloody root again and fell into that scrub. I was groping my way out of there when I felt something hard and metallic…..my bloody old glasses!!!!

It is almost Gourmet Hash folklore that Prince Valiant has an incurable problem with the plumbing works; he reckons it’s the result of weeks and weeks of poor diet when he was in the trenches in Nam. Now he has no control over the sphincter and he farts at the drop of a hat….. He continues:

-“It was a posh soiree with ladies present and the tucker had been great; the Malay beef rending was particularly spicy and rich and I hoed into it. Soon after it began to take effect on me guts and I started dropping them. They were bloody stinkers too. Anyway, after a while the GM, Shat, came over and told me that dessert was about to be served so to put a bloody cork in it or leave the party. I was really hurt so I thought, ‘I’ll show you you bastards’ and headed to the fan room where the air conditioning equipment was installed. I brewed an absolute ripper, letting it mature nicely while holding it up, then I let it rip in the duct and the fan delivered it. It took about 12 seconds to vacate the entire room….. what a bloody rip snorter!!!

Full of Shit remembered back in 2007, 75 years after the Bombing of Darwin, he and ‘Killa’ Willis (BallPoint’s high school maths teacher no less) set this run in the Berrimah swamps just out of Darwin. It was to be the re-enactment of the Darwin Blitz, the idea being  that as the Hash would emerge out of the stinking swamp, they would be welcomed by a barrage of fire crackers popping off around them. Killa was an expert in all things explosive but he over-reached that night…. So as the hash came out of the mud Killa exploded the first device but it was way oversized and it nearly blew his bloody leg off. He was in intensive care for a week and they only just managed to save his leg.”

BallPoint recalled his first Inter Africa Hash in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia….

-“By way of welcome Grand Master Gunzuntight was there at the airport with a can of cold St George and a bevvy of gorgeous young hasherettes of which two were assigned to me as my personal chaperones.”

-“The last thing we need is to have a bunch of Westerners getting lost” said Gunzuntight.

-“Ethiopians have that lovely habit of women feeding their men (the ones they’re attracted to) using only their delicate little fingers. My two cohorts were dab hands at feeding big boofheads even if the tucker wasn’t always gourmet. After an evening of ‘feasting’ my stomach with FirFir and my eyes (Sexwale and Baby Ababa were most easy on the eye) I got on the turps with Sucker from Nairobi Hash and Queenie from Kampala. The night got big, so big in fact that I know not how I got back to my hotel. And in the late morning, as I started coming to, I was most pleased that my bodyguards were there too, Sexwale on one side BA on the other, and both in their most decadent chocolate birthday suits. Dear Oh Dear……”

Sir Rabbit then entertained the mob with his recollection of the Loveboat cruise, after the Cyprus Interhash. The trip was organised as a Post Interhash lube, a cruise departing Cyprus for Alexandria in Egypt. With 500 odd hashers on board the shenanigans were never ending. Rabbit went on:

-“The best bit of the days were the midnight nudie runs around the pool deck. Everyone going into it, it was a bloody hoot.”

-“It wasn’t only the running they got into” helped Ferret, a fellow ‘cruiser’. “Inevitably it ended up in the cabins where there were orgies galore ey Rabbit?” he said with a nod and a wink. “Why do you think they call him Rabbit…….it not because he loves lettuce.”

Circumference then spoke about a time during one of the earlier GCH3 AGPU:

-“The hierarchy had organised these trannies to do a show and a lot of the blokes weren’t aware of it. Mumbles fell in love immediately and he let himself go a bit. The trannie was kissing him, fondling him on the dance floor etc,. A while later Mumbles and his tran’ were smoochin’ in the corner when she/he started playing with his arse. Mumbles seemed to be enjoying it for a bit but then it stuck a finger up his date and all hell broke loose. Being ex-army, you’d have thought Mumbles was used to this kind of caper but it took about 6 of us to calm him down. He dead set wanted to kill him/her.”

Ahhhhhhhhhhh memories ………………………………………………………………………long may we remember them!!!!!

On2,

Acting On-Sec Ballpoint

Run: 1931

Date:3/11/2014

Location: Coombabah

Hare: Sir Rabbit & Josephine

Runners: 27

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Brady Park Coombabah

Theme: “Around the Carrot Patch”

Tonight’s run started with Sir Rabbit turning up in his ute, using his master key to access the locked gate into Brady Park and then disgorging the contents of his ute, including BBQ, tables, stereo, chairs, a painter’s trestle, cooking implements and all manner of other interesting things. Rabbit’s words were most apt…”who needs the hash trailer when you’ve got all this shit!”

A motley crew of about 25 runners and walkers huddled together at the start, wondering if they were going to be rained on and were assured by the hare, Josephine, that there was absolutely no threat of rain…then it started spitting drops of rain. Luckily VD had brought along his triple-sized shade tent.

Josephine gave us all a run briefing, indicating he had used six kilos of flour, six rolls of toilet paper and various pieces of plasterboard in meticulously marking out the trail for the runners and it was exactly 7.242km in length, give or take 23 centimetres. The walkers got a written guide to their walking trail and off we all set. The run was an interesting one, very well marked in chalk, flour and toilet paper and even your trusty substitute to the substitute scribe was confident in being in the pitch dark bushland all by himself (whatever happened to the old adage “no man left behind”) fully knowing that the trail would be clearly marked for him to find his way home. The hare also did a sterling job in sweeping at various stages of the run to make sure that runners kept on trail. All in all, a great run and Josephine is to be congratulated on his efforts.

The nosh was prepared by Sir Rabbit and it did not disappoint, consisting of lovely, crisp chips, beetroot, pickled onions, mushy peas, a mixed leaf salad and choice battered or crumbed fish fillets, oven-baked and reheated on the BBQ. Dessert was apple pie and custard, again not disappointing. There were ample left over chips and several of us made traditional “chip buttie” sandwiches to round off the meal.

In the circle, Josephine was complemented on the quality of his run and Two Dogs thought that “he should do it every fucking week!”. The superlatives kept flowing with Shat feeling that Josephine had done a “marvellous, marvellous job” and Bent Banana continuing with “walk of the year!!”.

Brutus, a nosh expert, was asked for his opinion and said “lovely salad, best mushy peas!”. Weekly commented that “the beetroot was great!” and Kwakka “I had two goes at the chips”. What an excitable bunch of hashers we all are! The great leveller came from Sir Blackstump who commented that “the fish reminded me of the last time I dined at the Y…it was a c@#t of a fish!”.

The circle was initially presided over by the RA in the capacity as acting GM as our actual GM was feeling too traumatised to preside over the gathering, apparently on the outlandish pretext of having his feelings hurt by Ballpoint in last week’s words, wherein Ballpoint had apparently inferred that the venerable GM was a clown…whether or not this is true is irrelevant..it was sufficient to get not only a down-down, but also a lengthy icing. Poor old Ballpoint!!

Just so he didn’t feel left out, Bent Banana also got an icing. Your trusty substitute to the substitute hash scribe can’t actually remember why this actually happened, but it is becoming such a regular occurrence that it doesn’t matter any more.

Veteran was awarded the “Prick of the Week”, minus the condom cap, the mounted member, the prick nose and glasses and the bag of porn, with the substitute Richard Cranium chicken being presented to him in lieu. What on earth has happened in my two week absence in Vietnam…the whole thing has become a debacle!!

Remember that money for the cocktail party is required by 15^th November due to the fact that there are going to be lots of expenses that have to be paid for up front. No money by this date means you get scratched!!

On On

Fanny Charmer

Substitute to the substitute to the hash scribe

Run: 1930

Date:27/10/2014

Location: Molendinar

Hare: Kitchen Bitch , Botcho and many helpers

Runners: 27

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Welcome to my Nightmare….

OCTOBER 21st

It was late in the day when I called in to Brian’s place on my way home from work.
-“He’s not back from the doctor’s yet” said his wife with concern in her voice, “he’s been there all afternoon.”
So I called him:
-“G’day mate howzit hangin’? Where the fuck are yuh?”
-“Who is this? said a voice I did not know.
-“BallPoint, who’d yuh think it is? Why, who’s this?
-“Senior Serjeant Campbell from Surfers Paradise Police. Who are you?”
-“I’m a friend of Brian’s, I’m here at his place with his wife wondering where he is.”
-“Wait there, we’re coming over.” And he hung up.
They were at the door a few minutes later:
-“I’m sorry to bring this sorry news” said the serjeant, “Brian has passed away. He collapsed in the doctor’s waiting room and nothing they did could bring him back. I’m very sorry.”
Brian……….my best mate of 35 years……..gone………..for ever!

Rest in Peace Brian.

OCTOBER 22th

In the preceding days, emails were flying around that a legend of the Gold Coast hashing community was in serious trouble; the Big C had got a hold of Ringbark’s prostate and just wouldn’t let go….
A veteran of 135 Gourmet Hash runs, Ringbark was a hardened hash man with a quality pedigree. A knockabout bloke with a glint in the eye and a nose for the punt, he had a particular penchant for any get-rich-quick-schemes; from Peter Foster’s thinning teas to Nigerian Princes looking to offload their millions into his bank account, Ringbark entertained them all. Scammers, conmen and bullshit artists were welcome to his imagination…..
He fought bravely so many battles but in the end he lost the war and left us to try his luck in Hash Heaven.

Rest in Peace Ringbark.

OCTOBER 24th

The evening news led with the death of Australia’s 21st Prime Minister, Gough Whitlam. At the spritely ripe age of 98, Gough fell off the twig as he muttered: “Well may we say God save the Queen, because nothing will save me anymore….”
A man not short on confidence and the sense of occasion, Gough’s legacy is enormous. His was not the evolutionary route but the revolutionary one. He radically re-shaped Australia from a country with entrepreunerial zeal to one big fat welfare state and the bloated bureaucracy needed to manage it. True to his ideological roots, Whitlam was the first Western leader to get into bed with communist China. And when the shit finally hit the fan on his reformist agenda, he thought nothing of employing the services of a Pakistani crook to bail him out.

Rest in Peace Gough.

OCTOBER 30th 

It was a moonless night. The Hare Botcho was most pertinent when giving his final instructions:
-“Don’t forget your bloody torch. And for Fuck’s sake keep together; it’s bloody dark in there and if you get lost you’re on your own. No one’s coming to get you. And good luck!!!
There was tension in the air as 6 of us ventured into the shadowless scrub. It would be Sir Black Stump who’d break the tension with a cry of “Oh fuck!!!” as he trod on a massive cane toad blocking the narrow path. At the first check point newly named Brewtus spoke up in a trembling whisper:
-“Fuck me it’s dark in here………no way I’m goin’ checkin’….I’m hangin’ around here until it’s found.”
As it was, I found the on trail and waited for the pack to catch up. Deeper into the spooky forest we soldiered on; As the front man, and with my torch pointing downwards, I copped all of the spider webs and any low hanging branches. Checkpoints 2 and 3 were negotiated without any dramas but the pack began to disintegrate. Still heading the pack, I was suddenly stunned by the apparition of a ghost, with a porcelaine white ‘the scream’ face and the ubiquitous woo woo howling. I jumped out of its way and sought refuge in the bushy undergrowth but as I did I fell headlong into a ditch. “Get away from me” I yelled as I scrambled to my feet and raced back onto the path in terror. As a last resort I started screaming “on, on……….on, on” with renewed gusto and in a desparate bid to ward off the surrounding evil spirits.

Suddenly I came to a fence………. a high mesh fence……….I was trapped, a prisonner of this God forsaken, spooky forest. As I pointed my torch along the fence line I began to crawl along it. Far away I could hear a low rumbling noise which seemed to be nearing. Then I found it….a hole in the mesh and I squeezed my bulky body through it. I was free!!!! The rumbling noise was getting louder, hopefully I would be rescued. I started climbing the steep rocky embankment and as I looked up I thought I caught a glimpse of light. I scrambled up the slippery ravine wall, the light was getting stronger, the noise was getting louder. Then I was there…at the top….and as I emerged from the abyss I was blinded by the most intense light and overwhelmed by a thunderous noise. And as the speeding train passed me by, a gust of hot air hit me with such force that it knocked me backwards and I slipped back down that black ravine once more. I screamed “help, help” but there was no response, only an eerie silence, but for terrifying bush sounds. I found the fence again and soon I crawled through its gash once more. Furious panic gripped me and I raced up the slope before me, bush bashing my way to God knows where. Eventually I cut the trail and soon I was relieved to be back on flour. As my confidence returned I noted that there were no spider webs across the path concluding that others had been there not long before me….and that I was on my way ‘Home’.

‘Home’, on this terrifying night, was an old, long disused tunnel; one probably inhabited by Goths in times gone by. On this night it was illuminated by a dim bluey light and, as I approached with trepidation, I found a bunch of zombies, witches, freaks, devils, vampires and death cultists. Uncle Fester was also there presiding over a very old and dusty coffin…….a most frightening prospect.

They seemed to be enjoying themselves, drinking and eating with gay abandon. Much of what was discussed didn’t make any sense to me but they left me to do my own thing.

Eventually, one of them with a particular ‘presence’, a strange ‘staff’ and an even stranger hat, rallied them into a circle formation around him. He called in a devil who had been responsible for something called ‘the run’ and after much toing and froing, the devil drank some potion from a large metallic goblet.
A zombie appeared in the circle and he too was given some of the potion for his commentary on ‘the walk’…..
Then a freak appeared and he was given a statue, shaped like a phallus, for being a ‘cheap’…..
Hannibal Lecter was given some potion for his audacious attempt to lure two dames into the tunnel to have his evil way with them.

All of a sudden fear gripped me once again as the black ghost of the forest made another appearance, ordering Godzilla into the circle and giving him a goblet of potion for his inspired idea of bringing ‘Home’ a coffin. Godzilla then explained that the coffin was neccessary to “carry the carcass of the ‘one’ being sacrificed tonight”……

On that terrifying note, I reached for my hash bag and charged for exit.

ON2,
Acting On Sec