For many of our older hashers who remember the good old days of virgin bush, before shaven became the norm across the modern GC landscape, it was a trip down memory lane for them at this run at Gilston. As the suburb named after one of the Gold Coast’s pioneering villages still features good hashing territory, it was with great anticipation we headed out to the recommended venue. Finally, most found the car park, climbed the hill, carried the eskys, set up camp squatter style on the deck of a house overlooking a big burn off bon fire. Shit, this looks good, commented most until we all told to move as we were not even on the hare’s property but it was his neighbours house we had turned into a base camp with bags scattered all over the verandah. So after gathering our swags, off we went down the track to the correct venue. Brewtus remarked – I am starting to feel like a Syrian reffo.
By this stage, the pack were getting toey about starting this “all the signs of a debacle/ could be a late night” event. However the hare still had to get the food, so he bush bashed down through the hills to his car at another car park to get such. On the way back, he found Sir PV who had already done 60klms around the area trying to find us.
Finally it was down hill and up dale and walkers/runners scattered all around place, with no one having a clue of where the home trail went. Sir Blackie checked and checked but couldn’t find any trail.
The hare hung with one group and others figured out a way home arriving in dribs and drabs to meet another mob of hashers who hadn’t even moved and decided to arse sit as security over our bags. Jigsaw who had supplied some Coronas suggested we celebrate his birthday with him. A Santa’s bag of boxed nosh was opened and soon we were munching on chips and crackers and pretending we were also enjoying the cheese and dips the hare had left at home.
When the hare emerged and their was no further nosh in sight, the GM called an early circle while the kitchen team started dinner. An esky full of sliced cabbage looked about as appealing as a esky full of some of that trucked in South Australian piss they tried to pass off as beer during the great Qld XXXX beer strike in the late 1970’s.However somehow the hare, Sir PV and Truck Tyres ended combining all these bits and pieces of ingredients to come up with a dish known as a Cambodian Asian Beef Salad. An interesting condiment was a dash of Castrol BOOB Plus (Balsamic Blend & Olive Oil) to lubricate any dryness to the marinated beef especially for those hashers who hadn’t had a good service for awhile. Nuts and noodles topped off this dish which judging by how quiet it was when it was served, must have been accepted pretty well by the starving hashers , especially those with dietary requirements before midnight each evening. As the clock headed past 9:00 pm, some hashers were becoming agitated at the possibility of missing Aunty’s Hollywood Hour – another episode of Queue & Nay and all the associated BS played out from the rent a crowd mob every Monday night after hash. The third course of this out there menu was tinned fruit, again from Cambodia.
During the earlier circle, Bent Banana was the first called out as he had been sprung by another hash cam of doing a red arrow runner while driving out his way. As the normally topless running Flasher had finally realised there is thing called the body cooling down was next out for begging others hashers for some warm clothes. Josephine, the green thumb from Parkwood got a nomination for receiving the latest marketing real estate marketing ploy, a plaque for best garden. somehow his neighbours and their neighbours were all multiple winners. The moustached Magician who told all about his recent world travels was dobbed in for failing beer economics, 38 hashers and 24 Coronas does not make for 2 beers for the Magician.
Swindler, also back from his travels in the Top End, was asked to give a note but as he had his hearing aid turned off, he was slow to respond. Now Loved told us about the hare shouting his dad a full breakfast while he only had a snack and then as he got envious, distracted him with some female perving and swapped the meals. Former Top End fisherman told of his successful day in the Broadwater cleaning out the flathead and bream stocks which should be a tasty nosh down the track.
The hare’s neighbours deserve a special mention for being great sports on the night especially when we had all arrived and unwittingly took over their place earlier. There was Les, sprog Jet and mum – a hasher by the name of Ride the Monkey who for some reason become known as Grind the Monkey in the GM’s mind. She told an interesting story from a years ago about another shotgun totting neighbour in their vicinity who upon finding flour circles and toilet paper toilet paper and a hare setting a run on his property sat up all night in case the hasher returned. Apparently that hopeful hare was Sir AH.
it was great to see Moonbeams back to officiate in the closure of the evenings proceedings of RPR14.
No need for you to guess who got POW for his failure to get his run logistics right on the evening, the hare.
We all wake up, thankfully, to Tuesday morning’s news and it is all about the Hayne plane becoming a train wreck where he has gone from a football dreamer, to a happy clapper bible basher to a rapper dreamer partying with a bikie. However if he ends up getting a stretch on the sidelines, early in the 2017 season, there may be a silver lining in it for our bikie hashers to recruit and make him an honorary member of the their patched association and who knows he may drop another $5 grand wad of cash our way. Over to you, guys. I mean he’s got to have his breakfast somewhere and he’s currently obviously got money than sense. I can sure as shit tell you I want be falling through any more fucking rotten timber walkways just to get a donation for the club off the council while this far easier opportunity is there for the taking.
FROM POMMIE LAND / FINALLY THERE’S A JUDGE OUT THERE WITH SOME BALLS (AND SHE’S A FEMALE)
John Hennigan appeared before Judge Ms Lynch QC, facing sentence for his ninth sentence for an Anti-Social Behaviour Order, and after being given a custody stretch in Her Majesty’s finest, began his tirade from the dock, by telling her that she was a bit of a cunt. She retorted – You are a bit of a cunt yourself. Being offensive to me doesn’t help you. Hennigan shouted back – Go fuck yourself. You too – replied the judge.
Hennigan then began screaming – Sieg Heil, and singing – Jews, gas them all. To which Judge Lynch commented – We are really impressed. Take him down.
Hennigan’s wrap sheet for previous breaches included – abusing a bus driver and pub door staff,raising an arm in a Nazi salute, calling black people cunts and niggers, telling black Caribbean women that he doesn’t agree with inter-racial relationships (only natural ones ?).
However Judge Lynch had the last say in the matter – I am not going to argue with you, your offence is thoroughly unpleasant and for repeating breaches of this order using the most unpleasant of language and causing distress, I am sending you off to prison. You will have 18 months to think about your actions, cunt.
JUST WHEN YOU THOUGHT ONLY THE YANKS WERE THE WACKIEST PEOPLE ON THIS PLANET COMES THIS BEAUTY
Not to be outdone by the more famous named Trump family from the USA, Australia has unleashed the Tromp family who went walkabout on a bizarre National Lampoon style Australian vacation where Mum, Dad and the kids toured cross the country via the NSW/Victoria border and then they lost each other in various towns. As the stolen Holden Berina sped north, a Talking Heads CD was thrown in the car stereo and soon all were singing along to -We’re on the Road to Nowhere as the kids got excited about having their first visit to the trip themed park of Paranoia World.
Before leaving their home without their ATM cards, credit cards,passports etc they all walked out the front door and left their house open just in case any local real agents were looking for Open House places for their weekend listings. Police in two starts began searching for them and some of them were found in hospital psych wards and then the old man gave the world the bird when he was finally found on Father’s Day. The kids, out of boredom while seating in the backseats, invented a new road trip game of seeing who could throw their mobile telephones the furtherer out the window.Ivan Milat might be lucky he is behind bars theses days, because if he had encountered them while they were touring around the Belonglo Forest , he might have just met his match if the family had the farm shotgun with them while on tour.
While it is easy to take the piss out of this incident, it maybe a timely wake up call for all of us that there are lots of people out there in our community who are challenged mentally every day in their lives and it is worth remembering to reach out and ask RUOK and maybe and help them with information about appropriate assistance from Lifeline on 131114. Anyone who is a regular Go Card junkie in SEQ or user of the M1 will know that these type of people are out there amongst us judging by some of their behaviours that can be displayed randomly. I recently had some Nerangatang nutter ask me while I was on the train why do QR ask everyone to take their personal belongings with them when they get off the train. I told him – Mate, you’re telling the story, why ? His response was – In case they go bang ! Next day, there was a bomb scare at Helensvale railway Station.
Yours in hashing