PH3 Run 1804 Scribe
Show Scribe Report by Barnacle Bollox
The morning after the run report. Tuesday 2nd October.
I hope this finds most of you feeling a touch delicate, and a little stiff, as I am this Tuesday morn. Don’t really know why I roped myself into writing this report, maybe because I feel that I don’t do too much for Hash, other than sing the odd rude song.
I have just finished washing my running shoes, loads of nasty black grit from all the shaggy, ponds, and overflowing streams we encountered. Well spotted, whoever it was saw the beautiful green tree snake. Hopefully LONE WOLF has it on camera.
The jungly part was terribly confusing, and I got the feeling that we ran over the same section of trail more than once. Possibly somebody had messed with the paper, other than the hares that is. I was feeling hopelessly lost until I came across DIRT LOONEY who seemed to know where he was, and a way out, and then we came across STEPTOE, who was wearing a knowing look, and pointed us back the way we had already come. Whatever, it did lead us out of the jungle, and the short elephant grass which had cunningly grown itself into face height, and then thrown itself across the almost concealed trail below, in order to trip us foolish people up.
HARBOUR WHORE took a couple of tumbles, once while trying to keep a guardian eye on his virgin, who must have wondered what the fuck was going on. Wonder if he will return? Another crash from the WHORE when he became tangled and stabbed by the spiky bush that drew blood from me, a moment earlier. He rolled around cursing for a few moments and so perhaps a good candidate for Hash Crash, next time round. All in all, it was a good exercise, and got the juices flowing, even though the trail was not the best.
Eventually the well dispersed pack stumbled in the A site to find cold beer and delicious food being dished out by the lovely trio of MISS USE ME (wonderful name that), LOST CAUSE and MASTER CHEF. Well done girls, Aroy Mak!! Endorsements from GING GANG GOOLIE, and REALLY SADISTIC BASTARD who polished off his plate as if his own missus never feeds him.
SOUR KRAUT BONE COLLECTOR was iced and received the Hash Trash hat for throwing away his umbrella, then demanding it back. EMPEROR AIRHEAD told us a story of how he had tried to feed his wife to a crocodile over in Cambodia. Maybe not as silly as he looks.
Hares were rightly iced, while NAH HEE MAN (another lovely name) said that the paper was about 80% correct, I thought he was being generous.
The one and only SIR FREE WILLY took charge of the Raffle, and complained at the addition of a free Cheese and Onion Pie, donated by myself, which nobody wanted. Be worth a small fortune in Suluwasi just now.
NINJA PRINCESS won a bottle of dodgy looking whisky for her old man. I was a bit miffed as I fancied that, but had to be content to win the worlds tiniest mobile phone. I have to find the worlds smallest SIM card now. Not sure if it’s real, at all, at all.
SQUEEZE MY TUBE was iced for achieving 500 runs and became LADY SMT. Her old man G.I JOE was called in and abused for working as Bus Master or something (rumour has it he has a friend in The Buffalo Bar.) and completing 700 runs. Now this bloke does actually run, and doesn’t just turn up for the beer, like most of you bastards. Even so it was agreed that he does need to get a life.
Both TURD BURGLAR and CANNONBALL were seated on the cool stuff for being birthday boys and received supposedly tit shaped cakes. All I could see was a cherry, looking a bit like a well chewed nipple.
Shortly after came into the circle a long thin coffin looking for a long thin corpse, while LORD CHICKEN FUCKER waffled on about the recent Ryder Cup Golf competition. He then had me sit on the Ice and we regaled the audience with a cautionary tale about drinking and driving, and my subsequent detention behind bars and the loss of my life savings to the police. Some of you may have noticed that I did not arrive by Motor bike this time, but sensibly rode the baht bus.
BURL IVES took over proceedings and bored everyone to death with a American V British style of quiz. Most of us made the comment that he would be better by singing, which he does do rather well. He did give us a rendition of "How the Money Rolls In", somewhat spoiled by the use of his mobile phone to remind him of the words. Was a time when he could remember words.
So another enjoyable night, and many thanks to all the Stalwarts who work so hard for the rest of us. Special mention should go to THE WIZARD, for putting up with all the raucous comments in a kindly way, and to VV and his lovely lady TWO TIME, and also to Tony TAMPAX for his lighting display.
Apologies to all the heroes and characters I haven’t mentioned, but I was a bit pissed by the end of the night and can hardly read my scribble. Cheers everyone and ON ON.
On-On! Barnacle Bollox