Run: 1945

Date:9/2/2015

Location:Nerang

Hares: Ballpoint

Runners:35

Well, here we were again at an old favourite spot at the pony club at the end of Wandin Street, Nerang for Ballpoint’s birthday run…50 years old and he doesn’t look a bloody day over sixty…must be all the hashing in exotic locales all over the world..it obviously takes it out of you…happy birthday you old prick!!

About thirty intrepid hashers turned up for the run, a lot of them probably wondering what the hell was ahead of them and why they had to pay $20 for the run instead of the usual $15….of course all would be revealed later, as we would all see!…and why the hell did we all have to wear Hawaiian shirts we wondered!

Some research on Ballpoint’s birthday, assuming he is to be believed that it was four days before tonight’s run only turned up one “famous” person with whom he shares a birthday…Mary, crown princess of Denmark…another Tasmanian!! Good one Ballpoint..hashy birthday, f*** you!!

The run briefing:

The hare greeted us all upon arrival with a big backpack strapped to his chest…shit! Has he lost all his marbles and is he packed with explosives and this is not going to be a hash run but terrorist training instead???…and was the extra money to pay for the explosives??? No, no, we were reassured by Ballpoint that this was going to be a Hawaii 5-O theme run…”out there in the bush, you blokes have to act like it’s full of thieves and crims…you have to be on your toes…you have to find the trail…it’s going to be marked with shredded paper and I’m going to head out and mark it now and you blokes follow in ten minutes”.

The run:

Off set the hare into the wilderness and after waiting the requisite time we all set off in the same direction, including the walkers. After about twenty five metres we came across the first shiggy…a bloody muddy creek crossing…great stuff Ballpoint!…soggy feet for the next four kilometre trek!…soon after that there was a check consisting of a large mound of shredded paper…no way could that lot have been in his back pack…this was all a pre-planned trap!

Runners shot off in all directions and it looked like there was no trail to follow but after many cries of “are you?” and “checking!” after what seemed like an eternity, a faint cry of “on on” in the distance raised hopes again. “Bugger it” said Botcho “I would have been happy to turn back and crack a beer!”…a sentiment with which a fair number of us agreed. This scenario was to be repeated at every single check …..”what the fuck is he trying to do to us?”…”bloody prick!”…..ahh the joys of hashing!

Ballpoint must be given credit for one thing though…the runners all stayed together for the whole run…..probably because everybody was shit scared of being left out in the wilderness on their own…..even Flasher did his best to resist the temptation of darting off on his own as he normally does. Towards the end of the run most of us were desperately lost and thank goodness a friendly local came out of her house backing the bushland and said “are you blokes lost??” to which we all replied “yes…how the f*** do we get back to the pony club?” to which she responded “just go down the hill there and there’s a creek crossing (great! Another one!) and you’re nearly there”…off we went down the hill, fortuitously finding the trail again and there we were…back at the start..brilliant! Despite all the protestations and abuse directed at the hare, we all summed it up as a bloody good run!

The Nosh:

Ballpoint made a bloody good effort to upstage Sir Blackstump by pinching his signature dish, spaghetti Bolognese…all agreed that it was a good feed, with the nibbles at the beginning being a slightly spicy Spanish-style chorizo, served with cheese and that old favourite, Jatz crackers. Where would we be without Jatz!! Dessert was Crepe Suzettes, probably outsourced to Ballpoint’s lovely Mauritian missus, oh, but hang on, he’s French…he’s got the right DNA to cook that sort of shit so he probably did them….good job Ballpoint..tres bien mon ami!! There was a second dessert, boob-shaped cakes topped with cream..shared by those not on the point of bursting after circle ended. In all, we all agreed it was a great feed and who gives a shit what Blackstump thought of it!!

Circle and other crap:

In keeping with the Hawaii 5-O theme, Ballpoint had arranged for one of his copper chums to come and provide us with some light entertainment…Constable Crissy certainly kept us all in line, not hesitating to wield her extendable nightstick to keep our behaviour in line. Enough said…you had to be there to appreciate it and if you weren’t or if you are reading this as an interested outside, well ha! Ha!…you missed out..tough titties J!!

Our esteemed GM had some issues tonight keeping the crowd under control, probably to do with the fact that he seems like a man under the spell of our uniformed guest…can somebody please tell him that drooling is not acceptable, even amongst a crowd of misfits such as we are! The highlight of circle tonight was the celebration of Ballpoint’s birthday…no details but he certainly got his twenty bucks’ worth tonight!!!

A total lack of imagination was shown by Fullershit in passing the Prick of the Week over to Nasty for no other reason that the poor bastard is called “Nasty”!! Lame, lame reason Mr Fullershit and again probably the result of being distracted by a couple of the fine “points” raised tonight JJ!!!

About half an hour into the circle proceedings, Moonbeams and Showpony started to whinge, bleating about it being past their bedtime…Moonbeams was heard to say “this is shit…my arse is getting sore…seen one pair you’ve seen them all “ (I wonder what he means??…does he mean a pair of guys up there getting “down-downs”??). Showpony agreed with him and said “yeah, fuck this, I’ve got to go home and worry about my sixth separation!!” (huh, is that six degrees of separation?).

Enough crap for now…that will do for a run report…don’t like it??? DILLIGAF!!

Signing off,

Your trusty substitute to the substitute to the scribe,

Fanny Charmer

Sir Rabbit was out and about  last weekend and recorded this video for your viewing pleasure. He reckons that our Grand Master needs singing lessons  LOL!!

Run: 1944

Date:2/2/2015

Location: Robina

Hares: Now Loved & Pile Driver

Runners:24

Its Monday again ….

The Run. A smaller crowd than usual gathered at a familiar spot, with promises of unfamiliar and new territory by Hare Now Loved. He explained the meaning of his three different arrows, with the extra one being LB, for Lazy Bastards. Then it was off North with several quick checks. The trail followed water meandering through Robina Town Centre, with clever markings keeping all away from the sight of the commercial centre. Eventually the waterside trail ended with a wire fence, under a bridge, where a FT forced the FRBs to back track. It was then westward through a Kentucky Chicken shop and a gradual left curve where a check led into some light scrub, then up over a grassed hill and a nice downhill cruise to Home. The group of Two Dogs, Blackie & Brewtis led the group in, only to observe Flasher already there. It was all over in 35-40 mins – a well-marked trail, with ample checks and some new countryside, for those who don’t run often. Well done Now Loved.

The Nosh was described as Kai See Ming, and looked like something you would feed refugees or those Polish ghetto residents during WW2. However it tasted rather nice and most went back for seconds. The following healthy fruit salad with top quality ice cream was also well received. Good effort Pile Driver.

The Circle. GM welcomed all, with his first question: was it really new countryside? The only “Yes “ he got was from a visiting hasher, last seen 4 years ago. And his response for the food was – although it looked like Chop Suey, it tasted very good. He then handed out DDs to:

The Visitors & Returner:      Iceman, Vomit, Blackie & Lord Geoff

New Naming: To a founding nameless member (& joint GM) now to be known Lord Geoff of Broadbeach.

Acting RA Ballpoint then took control and punished:

Splinter events –Truckie spilt aged and expensive wine which was provided by                          Botcho & Sir Rabbit. All 3 awarded.

– Botcho and Vomit for graffiti all over our beloved trailer.

– Blue Card for serious indecent proposals to Hash friend and                                        mascot Montana, followed with a second DD for wearing his  torch on his head in the circle.

Oz Day event – Pile Driver being held responsible for Cricket match being cancelled.

Election event – Rock Hard and Sir Rabbit for voting Labour and helping in the destruction of the LNP in Queensland

Useless Shirt. After a long diatribe by holder Ballpoint it was passed on to Sir Prince for reported very poor engineering of a collapsed House built on a Water tank, way back in his youth. Not true, claimed SPV.

Prick of the Week. Fuller Shit decided he needed more time to view all the DVDs so kept it for another week. To his surprise he copped the half yard!

Next Weeks Run. This is shaping up to something special with Ballpoint promising excellent food and a great run and other surprises, maybe, to celebrate his 50^th. He asked all to make a special effort to be there. Nerang Pony Club … check the web for more details.

Josephine closed the Circle at 8:50 PM.

BB, stand in for Flasher, who pointedly refused the GM’s plea for a stand-in scribe.

Run: 1943

Date:26/01/2015

Location: Robina

Hares: Truck Tyres, KB, Slug and Rockhard

Runners:27

A wonderfully bedecked crew of about 30 turned up the Australia Day cricket day extravaganza.

The wicket was looking splendid on our arrival with the covers off and having been freshly mown for the eagerly awaited match.

There were Kiwi Aussies, Kiwis, Pommie Aussies and even a few Aussies in attendance.

One Hasher made it big time on the  news instead of attending OUR celebrations !!

At noon the advertised starting time only a few hardy participants had arrived notably led by our beloved Hash IT master Botulism and his tribe and bride and our most run Sir Rabbit who waxed on about the wonders of the Surfside buses having arrived right at the grounds from the wilds of Chirn Park on a 747. We didn’t know that there was an airport at Robina but Sir Rabbit assured us he definitely arrived on a 747!

In true Australian style the rest of the cricketers and their supporters arrived like public servants at work in dribs and drabs and of course all a little late but at least they made the effort unlike a lot of the hash regulars who were absentees.

Eventually the pack were off on a short well marked run set by stand in hare Truck Tires in the absence of the RA who apparently was at home recovering both from a night on the grog and a recent operation that apparently included some graft (how unusual?).

The run was led by Fuller Shit who true to form was full of shit riding a somewhat all terrain e-rider and checking the checks for those of us who bother to run being only Bent Banana and Miscarriage with the rest of the pack deciding due to the heat and preserve their energy for the game decided to walk the run which although short (circa 3 km) was very well marked with chalk, flour and paper that even Flasher would have stayed on trail if he come instead of staying home tiling!

On return and having a well earned drink or two the nosh was on starting with a wonderful entree of fresh prawns packed in the ice that Miscarriage forgot at Christmas for his family prawn feast.

After the prawns were devoured it was on to mains with boiled potatoes, marinated Sam Kekovich Lamb and salad followed by the Aussie favourite pavlova all well prepared by our GM KB and his motley crew of helpers.

As one can imagine after a run or walk in the heat, quite a few drinks, prawns, lamb and pavlova a hash union meeting was quickly held and the anticipated cricket game was postponed to another day to ensure the well prepared pitch remained in perfect condition for the next users of the oval.

How kind and considerate of the hash to think of others.

New Australian and ex-kiwi Botulism then acted as quiz master and asked a lot of interesting questions about Australia with   great answers from the likes of Ferrett (yes it’s true), Nasty and ex-ex GM Now Loved.

Like a good labour run raffle the winner of the quiz was none other than Botulism who firmly believes in the principle that whoever runs the quiz or raffle wins it! Well done mate.

Botcho’s brother Vomit, here for the Splinter Lunch Golf Tournament told a very clever joke about never giving up being a Hash House Harrier

An impromptu seated circle was called by the GM and apart from the hare Truck Tires other notable awardees were Rockhard who wouldn’t accept that Australia Day was in fact 26 January and poor old Miscarriage who had tried to give a down down to the Teflon coated Sir Rabbit for trying to catch the 3pm bus so as a pensioner he didn’t have to pay!

How Australian (or Greek) is that?

Talking about Teflon apparently Sir Prince Valiant and his trust helper Missing Link who were in fact both missing were busy up in Brisbane helping young Prince son Tom paint the walls of his new home.

According to reports the new paint fell off the walls after a few days making them both prime candidates for at least the Useless award if not the prick of the week as well for failing to to take an expert with them such as Sir Arsehole or Brewtus.

After the excitement of the quiz and circle it was a quick clean up and exit by us all with a thanks to all those involved in event, those that bothered to attend including a number of better halves and visitors and a traditional end of circle by our Moonbeams stand in Ferrett before he and Mrs Ferrett depart on yet another sojourn of the QEII.

How do all these ex-public servants do it?

On On

Your reserve reserve reserve On Sec

Miscarriage

Run: 1942

Date:19/01/2015

Location: Ashmore

Hare: Fuller Shit

Runners:29

Fullershit’s Titillating Run

The run:

“Now listen up you pricks, the fucking run is cancelled…now where’s the beer??”….such sweet and tempting words from our beloved GM on a night where the lightning was striking mere metres away from the start of the run, the rain was pelting down and the sky just kept getting darker and darker!

But no, like the idiots that we all are, we all jeered, booed and hissed our opposition to the words of our beloved GM, accusing him of being as weak as piss and a resounding chorus of “fuck you, we’re running tonight” echoed down Expo Drive at Ashmore and we were off into the rain, lightning and thunder, with yells of “on on”.

The hare, Fullershit, assured us that it was a good run, with a smattering of bush to traverse (in the middle of bloody Ashmore???) and that the run was marked entirely in pussy-pink tape tied to trees and other objects!

The walkers, well, who gives a toss anyway? Fullershit pointed down the road and said “you old codgers, just go down there and when you get sick of walking, just turn around and come back!” Your faithful substitute to the substitute scribe is guessing that a very few of them went on the “walk” as upon his return not one wet shirt was to be seen! They probably all found the beer eskys and said “bugger going out in this shit!”.

A pack of about six runners, yours truly included, trusting in the leadership of our RA and Two Dogs, set off across Expo Drive, straight into grass and mud, turned left and were lost from the start. Someone was heard to utter “whose bright idea was it to follow those pricks??” as we all doubled back and needless to say, were now at the back of the pack. In true defiance of our catchcry of “no man left behind”, needless to say, your faithful substitute to the substitute scribe was left behind, huffing and puffing and wheezing his way through the muddy swamp until he came to Nerang-Broadbeach Road, whereupon the instructions from the hare was to go under the road, not over it, as it is a fairly dangerous road-crossing in peak hour. Trusting these words, several of us went through the drains under the road and were in mud up to our knees and in danger of being swept away by the ever-rising rushing torrents of water…wouldn’t that look great in the newspaper..”elderly runners drowned in Ashmore drainage channel”.

Some hashers were seen to be cheating on the run instructions and diced with death in crossing the road, only to be met by further mud and crap everywhere. The so-called bush that we were supposed to run through in fact turned out to be a wasteland of discarded bottles, unearthed Aboriginal and white fella middens, cannabis party meeting points, discarded car and building parts and other such crap, all likely to cause mortal injuries if one were to be unfortunate enough to fall into it. This whole area reminded me of the pictures I saw in a museum in Hanoi of the destruction caused by incessant carpet-bombing by the Yanks and Aussies…it was a bloody war zone!! ….and all this in the middle of Ashmore!!! You gotta love the Hash…such variety!

Up hill, down dale, through mud and shit and for some reason the lyrics to a long forgotten song by Redgum came to mind…”A four week operation, when each step can mean your last one on two legs.

It was a war within yourself
But you wouldn’t let your mates down ’til they had you dusted off
So you closed your eyes and thought about somethin’ else

And then someone yelled out “Contact”, and the bloke behind me swore
We hooked in there for hours, then a God almighty roar
And Frankie kicked a mine the day that mankind kicked the moon
God help me – he was goin’ home in June”

Any minute I expected a sniper to come out from behind one of the wrecked cars and mow the bloody lot of us down, but no, I had to remember that I was only in the middle of bloody Ashmore!

It seemed like we’d been running for hours but we were across a main road from where we’d just started…probably a kilometre away from our starting point. Two Dogs was heard to say “fuck me, it seems like we’re miles away but my computer says we’ve gone 1.4 kilometres”. it was interesting to see the rear of the wrecking yard that I frequent often, the back of the Endeavour hostel, the cement works, and other such fascinating sights. It’s a good thing some of us have a perverse fascination with industrial landscapes!

Fullershit must have gotten bored with marking out the run in the rain earlier that day because it came to a bit of an abrupt end, just as we were “getting into it” and begging for more bush. However, the sight of the three strands of pussy-pink tape marking the way home after about 4 km was seen by some as a blessed relief.

Back we all came to the start of the run at Fullershit’s factory, all looking like drowned rats and cursing the insufferable humidity. Most of us had been sensible enough to bring changes of clothes and there were shoes, shorts, singlets and underdaks flying everywhere as we donned our dry nosh gear. Thank goodness Fullershit had left the airconditioning on in his showroom as the more sensible of us went in there to cool down, pretending we were vaguely interested in the merchandise on offer.

Speaking of merchandise on offer, you gotta give it to Fullershit, he certainly outdid himself in engaging the services of one of our trusted waitresses to “assist” in the service of grog and food, but more about that a little bit later.

The Nosh:

The first course of the Nosh was skewers of BBQ’d crocodile, kangaroo and koala, all served with great skill by the likes of Ferrett and several others, including of course our waitress Crissy. This young lady certainly has at least a couple of good points, and service with a smile is one of them…she serves, we smile!!

The mains was a lovely roast…bugger me if three days after the run I can remember what type of roast, but obviously one with which you use Cranberry sauce…delectable it was…..the meal that is, or was it the waitress??

Dessert was freshly diced mango and gourmet ice-cream. All absolutely superb.

One visitor, Bomber said “do youse blokes eat like this all the time?”…to which we all responded “of course we do, why do you think it’s called the fucking gourmet hash??”

Circle:

Twenty seven hardy souls gathered into a loosely formed circle, which didn’t start until well after nine o’clock as we were all otherwise distracted in erudite, deep and meaningful conversation with our only female attendee, oh and of course making our visitors feeling welcome as well by engaging in bullshit banter with them.

The usual frivolities happened at circle with “down downs” for this and that and of course the icing of ‘Flasher’, who by now just gets iced and “down downs” simply for being, well…Flasher! There was another icing of sorts but as this document is up for what is essentially public viewing, suffice to say “onya Crissy, you’re a good sport luv!!” She certainly made a couple of fine, outstanding points as a result of the icing!

Prick of the Week went to Fullershit, reluctantly passed on by Josephine…oh my goodness, the POW regalia will never be the same again! Don’t anybody dare wash it!!!!!

All in all, a wonderful evening had by all and once again, thanks Fullershit for making it such fun for us all…just proving that growing old disgracefully is the only way to go!!!

Fanny Charmer

Substitute to the Substitute Scribe