Hey up, Sawadee krap, Bonjour and all that. This is Barnacle Bollocks.
This is written the morning after, and feeling a bit ropey myself, with sporting a sore rib after a Hash Crash last week, but they say that sympathy is somewhere between shit and syphilis in the dictionary…
I digress however. A thoroughly good Monday Hash, in memory of our old friend, Lord Chicken Fucker. He, who would have us in stitches of laughter while he had the circle, usually without any planning, but he would always find a way to be funny. He is missed.
Well done for the cardboard life sized photo of John Mc Allen. Was that down to you, Dirt Looney? Or someone else, but a great idea. [Edit: Credit goes to Scar W/2T's, thanks 🙏]. While I am giving praise, this goes to all of you, who make up our unique collection of misfits. A lot of much hard work and organization. You know you are. From GI Joe, who organizes the transport, through VV and his lovely girlfriend. Miss Two Time. Only twice, I wonder? No wonder VV has a sore back! Let us not forget our sometimes cantankerous G.M, without whom our unique club would not function. And on to the honest fellows who handle the cash and the record keeping. Thanks, and well done, all of you.
A bit of an ordeal in the bus, I have to say, all the way to Pallet Lane and back, but always a good site, usually private, and good running country. Teak and bamboo interspersed with a few rare big trees. Plenty of ponds, and shiggy, despite the lack of rain recently.
Around an hours walk, for me. Then a huge cheer for out front runners, from the thirstily waiting wanking walkers.
Shit on my Chest, aka Scouse Cunt, (according to Sperm Polluter), had a word in my ear, to say that Herring Choker needs to get a move on, and stop coming in last!
A thirsty temple dog was seen enjoying the luxury of licking the Ice, before being told to, “fuck off, mangy fucker”
Happy Virgin walked past, with a can of Zero Heinekin, saying that she was told it was like Pee Pee. I asked Wee Jimmy what she said, and he replied, “Mei Loo”, on asking him what he meant he replied, “I don’t know.” Ha ha, Get it ??? Spot on Jimmy.
The vociferous Wizard gave the assembly a bollocking, for not being in a perfect circle, with groups of gossiping friends making their own mini circles.
Upon being interrogated, one of our Hash Crashers replied that the ground sort of fell away from him, which I thought was a great explanation.
YMCA reluctantly took the bucket for being a crasher after being snitched on by Scar with 2 Tees. I have to say he looked a proper pillock in his bobby’s helmet, and long face.
Hash Trashers were iced for losing a variety of kit, with sunglasses, and back packs. Toilet seats were issued.
Hares were Iced.
I was scolded by VV for temporarily losing the magic scribes light, which he found at my feet, in the dirt.
The raffle was held, and suspiciously the Slovenians won all the alcohol. Piss ‘eads!
Emperor Air Head took the Circle, along with the black dog. He reminded us of the loss of losing Sir Chicken Fucker.
A runner from darkest Manchester in the UK was named, “Slime Ball”. Very apt I thought, as he is a Man Yoonited supporter.
Ferry Queen briefly took the circle, and interrogated Train Stopper as to how he got his name. He was briefly named Fan Stopper for foolishly poking his finger into a revolving fan. Well, he is from Norway, so that might explain it. Then Golden Shower was rounded up and Iced, for going missing for 35 years!! Once again, well done to the Web Master for keeping the records so well.
JelloButt took a cold seat for being too noisy, and drunk. Then Sir Miserable Cunt took a seat for posting photos of all the weird food he eats on Facebook.
Absolutely No Fucking Idea came into the circle, and was welcomed back after a few years.
Scar was then Iced for being too honest, and for being Wanker of the week, last, and this.
Sperm Polluter brought VV into the circle for completing an incredible 1,100 runs. Quite amazing.
Miserable Cunt was awarded a long overdue 600 runs shirt.
Happy Survivor was politely told to Shut the Fuck up, noisy tart, she can be.
Shortly after was heard “ the final down down” followed by the Hash Hymn, and we made our merry way homeward in the dark.
Cheers, and ON ON. B Bollocks.