Location: Mermaid Waters
Hare: The Weekly Clan
A cool breeze welcomed hashers to Lake Hugh Muntz where the trailer and hash eskys were prepared in readiness for thirsty hashers finishing their runs and walks. Therrun was a circular event with a long Flemington racecourse like straight appropriately named Barrier Reef as it went around the waters edge.
Dicky Knee oversaw the serving of the first course entrée platter of kabana, cheese, virgin olives, cocktail onions and gherkins.
Hashers who in previous weeks had refused to drink VB and Tooheys even at discounted prices suddenly developed a taste for the same product at the giveaway
price and demolished esky number one like parched camels. Then screaming for more free beer, they were moved onto chateau de cardboard at happy hour prices. They again showed their drinking flexibility with the ever switching sudden drink specials adapting to more free beer when Sir Slab put on a carton of Kingfisher birthday beers. To top the night off, some hashers even challenged themselves by downsizing to mid strength as roadies.
Monthly SOW summoned hashers that the main course was on in an operatic version of – come and get it. The main went something like this – basmati rice, curried beef, with choices of banana, coconut, cucumber, yoghurt and tie them down before they fly away pappadams. Several hashers couldn’t empty the curry pot no matter hard they tried on their seconds and thirds.
In true Master Chef style, up stepped Weekly with his stage 3, the dessert. He consulted his serving manual and it read something like this – Step 1, Get the bloody glad wrap off the stewed apple, Step 2 – Crumble the home made biscuits by hand, Step 3 – For fucks sake, how do get the tight caps off these custard containers.
Step 4 – Layer it while serving firstly the apple, then crumbled biscuit and drown the lot with custard.
As the GM gave the 5 minute warning, several hashers now having had their fill of entrée, several mains, dessert, beer and wine hid in the shadows to avoid a down down. A one minute of silence for wounded Warriors – Swindler and Blue Card, had other Warriors thinking who will be next as this seems to be some sort of trend amongst bikie hashers these days.
Then hares were out first and then the naming of Bradley as Monthly SOW. a handy addition to our number which should improve singing in the circle.
Sir Two Dogs told of the unusual direction the run had went but it was good distance for the windy evening. Kitchen Bitch said the nosh was bloody fantastic for a winter’s evening and suspected a little outsourcing after seeing weekly consult the Master Chef serving manual.
Returning runners – Bark, KB, Wrongway and Caustic Crusader were invited to have drink before the RA stepped into to take over proceedings.
Flasher was quickly getting himself a down down for loosing the trail and a little bit of Ferret teasing.
Misscarriage was asked about his USA misadventure with air BnB. He has now learnt that a little rainbow flag and Ref on an accommodation website does not mean it is advertising a lotto win at the end of a rainbow or references preferred but is a signal for the queer folk that it is rear entry friendly. After that little life education, Sir PV advised then that Miscarriage had blindly wrote the wrong bank account numbers while transferring funds. Might be time for an appointment with Spec Savers.
Fanny C explained how he had injured himself while mounting a bush( I was up a grevillea), in some sort of perverted rough sex over the weekend. While he was
in the circle, KB used him as a whipping boy proxy for the absent Blue Card for returning a top shelf Jaguar he had given him for a weekend spin and returning it covered in bird shit and filthy.
Brewtus returned the POW which has had a Caucasian make over and gave it to Flasher for being a bit of a bastard to Flasher over his winter growth developed during his FNQ trip.
Josephine (in his Where’s Wally Beanie) and Ferret were invited to perform a duet in closing the circle of RPR9.
There is strong rumour that one of hashers has been invited by our Team Aussie head honcho in Rio, hasher Cold Pussy (aka Tough Titty Kitty), to do an Elvis is in the building moment during the closing ceremony as a result of the mea culpa backdown moment from the Rio mayor who had previously labelled the Australians as whingers after complaining about possible electrocutions in the shower, leaky toilets exploding from the Aussie womens water polo team’s gastro outbreak, fire drill evacuations which resulted in lap top thefts etc. Unfortunately the open water swimmers will still be needing snorkels to stop them getting a gobful of the giant Copacabana Beach turds left behind by excited spectators after ogling off the women’s beach volley ball games. Apparently as the Rio mayor is now our number one fan and can’t get enough of Aussie, Aussie, Aussie ,Oi, Oi, Oi it wasn’t hard for Elvis to get the gig and he is busy tuning up for his La Bamba/Samba,dorf rap cover of Peter Allen’s When I Have to Go I Go to Rio Toilets but I Still Call Australian Outhouses Home. Whether he then proceeds to do his Elvis encore of songs telling us like it is about the unglamorous side of the Rio Olympics featuring The Edge of Reality(maybe we were not up to running these games), Heartbreak Hotel (where coaches get mugged and robbed) Trouble(athletes robbed at gun point in our piece of paradise), In the Ghetto(life in the shanty towns behind the games gloss), Dry Cry Daddy(it’s only a mossie bite), Suspicious Minds ( What’s in the package ? / Was that a nut that popped out of that sheila’s shorts,is he/she a drug cheat ?), A Little Less Talk A Little More Action(Rio, get your shit together and get some more chlorine from the pool shop) and Burning Love(getting robbed during fire evacuation drill in the athletes village) is still up in the air.
However over some coldies in his Air BnB condo overlooking Ipanema beach, Elvis has had a change of heart while watching the great opening ceremony put on by the Brazilians. With such a wonderful atmosphere, how could he be a party pooper ? His song list will now be Jailhouse Rock, Blue Suede Shoes, Little Egypt and the finale of Viva Las Vegas will get everyone shaking in Carnivale style.
The new white Migaloo POW reminded me of a court case in the Western Qld town of St George where a white man was accused of raping an indigenous woman. The man had hired a barrister to come out from Brisbane to defend him. They discussed at length the strategy they would use to discredit the accuser during cross examination so as to create doubt as to what had actually happened.
After the woman had given her evidence, the barrister in cross examination asked her- In what state was the accused’s penis, was it flaccid or upright ?
Her reply was – It was just like that big white erect sign outside the court house and it was pointing towards Dirranbandi which is in Queensland.
The court room burst into laughter as she had just clean bowled the barrister, as he had left his own middle stump exposed while trying to protect his clients’.
Have we ever heard so many porkies about why the Census night was such a farcup debacle ? It’s about time someone came to their senses and at least rename the ABS as the ALBS – A Lot Of Bull Shit with all the crap coming out of there as to what happened.
It’s wonder, considering all the BS that has been thrown up that aliens were not blamed in some sort of War of the World’s conspiracy theory.
Just tell us the bloody truth that an antiquated IT system could handle the demands of millions of Australians trying to do what they have been asked to do.
Yours in hashing