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TartanTart Moderator

SCRIBE REPORT FOR HASH BASH 654




MEN WANTED

                                       for hazardous journey,    small wages

                                       bitter cold,   long months of complete

                                       darkness, constant danger, safe return

                                       doubtful,    honour and recognition in

                                       case of success.


                                       Ernest Shackleton


I am not sure why I was reminded of this ad supposedly placed by Shackleton in the Times in 1900 to recruit men for his Antarctic expedition. For a start there were no wages and no darkness. A doubtful safe return was always a possibility, but King Penguin was absent so there was less chance for the runners to get lost. And the Hash is not a sexist club, we don't only want men. We do allow women in case the Hash sites need a bit of cleaning.


Enough of this nonsense, here's some more.


Fourteen of us met near Temonyong jetty. After Hash Flash finally got her act together and took the group photo, Small Ball Cock explained the Bash. The four runners were to set off by the new road that is being carved out towards Resorts World. The ten wankers, (sorry, predictive spelling), were to head towards the jetty and then along a path to the sea.


It was a lovely walk and new to many. After waking beside the multi coloured fishing boats in the river, we came to the jetty and then on to the path that led out beside the sea. Very beautiful. Then came the 'hazardous' bit – we had to scramble down at least three meters on to the beach. 'Constant danger', as further along we had to scramble back up. But we did return safely. Even Karsanogenic. The poor love was suffering from jet lag and a Scottish cold.


To our shock the runners had also returned safely.


After some non-gay banter (gay banter is strictly forbidden on the Hash), we headed to Cocos for dinner. Jolly good it was too. Once again, Karsanogenic was almost a Hash hero as he partook of a pint of Guinness. He doesn't like Guinness unless someone buys it for him, so Hand Job found another use for his hands. He dug them deep into his pockets and paid for a pint of Guinness and presented to Karsanogenic. Our thrifty Northerner wasn't going to see it go to waste and drank it through gritted teeth and runny nose.


I believe we all came away with 'honour and recognition' because it was another successful Hash.



ON ON YER BASTARDS!


SBC



TartanTart Moderator

IRISH HASH RUN 652


GM – Johnny Walker

Hare – Small Ball Cock assisted by Hand Job.

Everyone arrived to an awning billowing in the breeze and a few camping chairs scattered under the trees. Alas the awning that took close on an hour to erect offered little if no shade and was not in the right area as the circle was formed on the opposite side of the road.  Hand Job decided it would be the last time he spent all his energy on putting up useless awnings unless he upgraded to a pop up one.  A group photo was taken by Bugger Mee with all the complying Hashers with their green outfits placed in the front. The shoes were inspected and no one was guilty of having new shoes but it was noted that someone’s still looked liked they had a very good warranty.

Small Ball Cock gave a very confusing description of the Hash route, which he tried to justify by saying he was trying to stick to the Irish theme.  After asking for clarity everyone just ended up more confused and decided to just set off and hope for the best. Well, after no more than 200m everyone had gone off in the wrong direction and Small Ball Cock was frantically calling everyone back. The walkers returned but unfortunately after bellowing after the runners (causing all the locals to rush out to see what all the commotion was about) they were long gone off along the wrong track. This ended up with them doing an extra loop before eventually joining the correct path. The Hare blamed the locals for trashing his arrow or the chickens must have eaten it.  The route was pleasant and thankfully a bit shorter than usual as the heat was sweltering up from the ground. The markings improved so much so that after the night’s rain and the next day’s sun I’m sure there are a few arrowed shaped loaves of bread to be found on the Island.

The circle was formed on top of a little hill so everyone could gaze at the sunset instead of being focused on the GM hoping not to get called for any future Hash duties. Tartan Tart was quick to offer to take the job of Executioner so that she could cool off by dousing herself with a big jug of ice water. A Virgin Hasher, Tarryn, born in South Africa and now a new Aussie, was welcomed to our Hash. The Returners were all very confused as to where they had been and stood mumbling and scratching their heads in true Irish Form before getting doused by the Executioner.

The green clothing which was a requirement for the Irish Hash was inspected and a few explanations were needed from some of the more imaginative Hashers.  Hand Job was awarded the title of the sexiest Hasher as he stood half naked with a green O’Heineken Box on his head as his green clothing contribution.  Our GM looked quite cute himself with a necklace of green balls as well as Sodomiser with his little green panties. MucArse had a lot of explaining to do regarding her green waders worn with Flip-flops. The GM was quite disappointed that he couldn’t find anyone with a green bra to inspect so turned his attention to naming and Christening two new Hashers; Geologist Piet and his wife Tweet. After some good dirty nominations, once again with Chilly Willy topping the list with his vulgar suggestions, #Tweety Twat and Rock Cock were the decided new names.

As it was now dark there was only time for one or two Irish jokes so those who had forgotten to bring one got off without any water dousing from the very enthusiastic Executioner. King Penguin closed the evening with a jolly Irish song and everyone headed off to Coco’s for some Irish stew or Fish. 

BC