Run Number:


Visit the website –
Website Email –


Crooked Billet
Honey Hill


Donut, Chopstix

Wedding Guests and Hangers-On

NipponTuck PuppyPenis DragonLady Chopstix CallGirl Foghorn Vicky Steamer Baldrick ShutupWally BGB SlipperyNipple Mother Theresa Lemming TurdTreader Hamlet Iceman Cerberus Premature The Tremblers Effin Lonely Handful Kim Andrée Blowjob Twanky Nick Massive Clem Legs and RocketMan (from Brisbane Thirsty Hash) Motox Caboose Dolly Russ(shoeless) Potty Nutcracker Robert Peter Nonstick Cloggs HarryPotter ShitShoveller

Chopstix and Donut – A Curious Combination

Just about the entire Foghorn clan (even the shy and retiring CallGirl) turned up to provide us all with a pre-Hash glass of wine to toast the health of our newly-weds, NipponTuck and PuppyPenis, who have been married for an entire month. To mark the occasion PuppyPenis was issued with a ball and chain and NipponTuck with feather duster, apron, rollers and hair net. A fetching couple they made. Sad thing is, they are moving to Washington DC this week so we won’t see them for some time. However, BH3 wishes them the very best of everything and looks forward to the next time they visit us.

This week’s picture shows the pair indulging in a spot of marital bliss dressed in puppy suits provided by the new husband. NipponTuck put a brave face on it, contenting herself with the thought that her man’s Hash name wasn’t Warthog or Giraffe. Let’s face it, his current name is bad enough!

We had a smattering of visitors and virgins today and I must mention Russ who, in his eagerness to join us, forgot his running shoes and had to run in his lace-up brown shoes.That kind of single brain cell activity will stand him in good stead if he decides to join the Hash permanently.

Figure 1 - Nothing to do with dogs. It's a doughnut.

This was Hare Donut’s (yes I know how to spell it properly but a) it’s a pain typing it out, b) don’t be etymologically casuistic) first Hash trail and she and co-Hare Chopstix had obviously spent a lengthy five minutes meticulously planning the route. The only thing I don’t understand was why there was a large container of pink flour at the Gather Round but all the blobs were laid in white!? The trail included tarmac, woods, a bit of tarmac, fields, just a bit more tarmac, one stream, a little bit of tarmac and a ford. But to the trail, which saw us early on streaming through a field of horses who were prancing around us with all the raised-eyebrow’d alarm of a dowager duchess who’s just been goosed by a bishop. Dolly exhibited similar symptoms since she is not happy in equine company. Cerberus and BGB also snorted and stamped when confronted with a bar check a little further on but managed to head the pack past a woolly flock of startled sheep to where we found a Walker’s trail split shortly followed by a Long/Short split. At this point BGB and I were in the lead, toiling up a long, open grassland hill and I forgot the golden rule about both Cheating and BGB. When they reckon they know the way ignore them! Sadly, when BGB panted, “It’ll go up left. Towards the trees.” I went that way. Only to lose all trace of flour and watch Iceman, PuppyPenis, Lonely, Iceman, Caboose, Uncle Tom Cobbley and all go racing off in the original direction calling “On On” like demented banshees. A steep learning curve (and hill) but a lesson never to be forgotten.

There are those, of course, who are on the marked trail but still insist on going the wrong way. Premature led us down a slippery, wooded hill near the Fujitsu building at Bracknell. At the foot of the hill were blobs clearly turning left yet the confused old chap ran off right while Iceman and I pondered whether it was diet, age or a combination of both that was the cause of the problem. After a little bit of uphill tarmac we met Chopstix at her impromptu Regroup to let others catch up. Again Premature sped off, well, prematurely. He’s either got a bee in his bonnet or a bug up his a*se. Not sure which – maybe both. The Regroup was great since it allowed us smug buggers to watch people like Motox, Lemming and Handful staggering wordlessly up the hill, weaving exhaustedly from side to side before dropping like wet dishcloths in front of us. Congratulations are due to CallGirl here since she managed to give Lemming’s bonce an excellent dusting of flour. If only she had done the same to ShutupWally’s mouth since he was droning on and on about the dangerous road, the (allegedly) badly drawn ‘RG’, the price of fish and the poor quality of anal bleaching at his local salon.

Chopstix pointed us on, round the edge of the huge turf field where Caboose tried his well known trick of tripping over on a piece of wire. Luckily, this time he managed not to unzip half his shin skin and carried on manfully. Florence imparted a surprising fact to me about Caboose. Like a speeding bullet flattening against a brick wall he had hit his 50th birthday last week! I don’t know about you but I always thought he was a mere lad of about 30 or so (own hair, teeth etc). This explains his addiction to public transport – he’s looking (not so far) forward to the free bus pass and is keen to practise the art of geriatric journeying.

A pretty long trek up and down damp, mossy trails with NonStick and Hamlet led us to a Donut standing alone in the wood with a plastic bag containing flour. She gave us a jolly nice smile as we swept off over the stile to join SlipperyNipple standing by a slip(pery) road by a roundabout. She very kindly saw me across the road, her very warm hand holding my cold one (hand that is). We picked up Lonely and sped past new lady l’il Kim, following HarryPotter into a long circuit round a rough field edge. And here it all went pear-shaped. Finding myself at the front, I turned right and found three blobs. Iceman, PuppyPenis, Hamlet and Caboose followed. Then the main pack. The problem was, the blobs had disappeared. That didn’t stop anyone and I could hear lots of baaing and bleating from behind. By the time I reached Yarmouth (or so it seemed) it dawned we had gone wrong. As we turned back there was a lot more bleating. “I shan’t be following you again Hashgate.” “Where was the flour?” “I’ve got a potato in my sock.” “Where’s my hamster?” And so on. It turned out the three blobs were the short trail coming the other way. Interesting. But exhausting. Still, the delay meant the pack reversed and we missed the bar-5 I noticed BlowJob puffing back from. Heh, heh.

We caught up with Russ (the shoeless one) who was going rather well down a forest track filled with large mounds of bark chippings and after just a wee bit more tarmac at the On Inn Lonely and I reached the ford. Lonely skipped across the bridge like middle billygoat Gruff trip-trapping across, grinned insanely at my protestations and buggered off in the direction of the car park. As did NonStick, Russ (fair enough) and Motox. Motox pointed out two excellent reasons mind you – 1) he was the RA for today, 2) incredibly the Hares had laid no bar on the bridge! Massive pretended he’d gone through by standing in the very edge of the water – very sad. But Iceman, TurdTreader, NipponTuck, CallGirl and sundry others strode through the little ford with panache and aplomb. Well done them.

So, a pretty good trail Donut, even though you had Chopstix to slow you down. Maybe you can persuade DutchCap to do the next one with you… On On. Hashgate.

Down Downs

Motox stood in for RA Glittertits and presented the following :-



Style points

NipponTuck PuppyPenis

The happily married couple

Rather dreadful by Puppy but we forgive him

Nick Legs RocketMan


A trio of fine suckers


Attempting to grow a moustache like Motox in order to attract ladies

Slurped it down rather well across his hairy upper lip


Sprinting through the ford

Dreadful spillage of his very weak pint of shandy


Being a newcomer last week

Despite Motox’ elbow wobbling ‘assistance’ she coped well

Donut Chopstix

The Hares

Chopstix still downed her pint faster than Donut’s sad ½ pint of water that ended on her head!

Up and Coming

Run Number


Grid Reference






* Christmas Lunch Hash *
St John’s (Mortimer) Village Hall





The Treacle Mine, Tadley
(Joint with Bourne Valley)

A BV Hare