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St John’s Hall, Mortimer


Mr Blobby, LoudonTasteless

The Powerful and the Plebs

Caboose ScarletPimpernel Abi Hashgate Dutch Donut TinOpener BlowJob Twanky Lucy Mrs Blobby Utopia Uplift Honeymonster Cheating OldFart OldDog SlackBladder Premature Cerberus ShutupWally ShitShoveller Foghorn Whinge TC Septic Dumper David Mervyn Potty Nutcracker Snowballs C5 Sue5 TrailBlazer(aka BlouseBlazer) Hamlet Hitchiker Spot SlowSucker Centaur Baldrick Twanky DunnyStumbler Simple Ms Whiplash Soreskin Glittertits PissQuick Motox GnomeAlone Zebedee Florence Chopstix HeadBoy Itsyor Steamer Iceman Flash OldFart Incider and dogs Kundun & Baldrick Lonely and dog Beaver

The AGM (Aggrandizement of the Grand Master)

The hustings are silent. The banners, streamers, ticker-tape, lapel buttons and ‘Vote for me’ boaters discarded. The GM has hit the ground running (rather like the opening scenes of The Terminator film, but without the muscles – or the willy). After a long and bloody political campaign the defeated opponents have crawled away to lick their wounds and plot revenge. Spex has clawed her way up the greasy pole and boldly seized the position of supreme power, triumphantly returned as GM for a second term. Not only that but she entrenched her position with a filibusterous stump-oratory that sapped the will of the electorate to demur (apart from SlowSucker, though he was squashed peremptorily like a mosquito) and careful manipulation of the Committee election, previously priming OldDog to decline the inner circle position of HashMash and to then ask the ‘surprised’ LoudonTasteless (Spex’s husband) if he would care to take on this important role. He ‘hesitated’ for all of one second then accepted the honour with a rapacious gleam in his eye. Rampant nepotism. Mrs Thatcher – who’s she? The Borgias – pipsqueaks. Elizabeth I – a whey-faced amateur. An example of Spex’s personal power occurred before the Hash, when LoudonTasteless and I were in the hall chatting. Spex was outside and blew her whistle to call the rabble to order. The sound galvanized LoudonTasteless. It was like watching a pointer dog. He froze, tongue out, eyes glazed, one paw hand up, one leg back, before rushing outside. I believe Spex also uses a clicker to train him, balancing a sugar cube on his nose when he’s performed (ooer!) well. I for one shall never refer to her as ‘The Fat Controller’ again. It’ll be an obsequious bow and “Your Omnipotence” from now on.

The rest of the new Committee are as follows:-

Grand Master


Trail Master


Hash Cash




Hash Scribe


Membership Sex

Dutch & Donut

Religious Advisor


Hash Ents


Hash Tick







OldDog (who else?!)



The feast after the more mundane appointment business was a credit to outgoing HashMash Glittertits and his lovely assistant, PissQuick. A plethora of pies, a multiplicity of meat, a sackful of salad and a preponderance of pudding filled us to satiety. Even Motox had a second helping. And the beer was extremely tasty. Many thanks to all who helped organise this and particularly to OldDog, who did most of the washing up with a fervour usually associated with the mentally challenged. No sooner had I stacked up some plates on our table than she whipped them away at the speed of light.

Loud’n Blobby

Of course, prior to the AGM there was a rather cleverly laid Hash, largely through forest and woodland incorporating something called a ‘Field Check’. Mr Blobby explained before we started that we would reach a field where there would be a circle with an ‘F’ in it, signifying that the trail could then go in any direction. Everyone I spoke to couldn’t quite figure out the difference between this and an ordinary Check since, by the time it appeared, we were one blob and On anyway. However, we humoured the Blobster, found the trail and ran off down it. Job done.

The trail seemed generally quite fast and furious although the Pack stayed together remarkably well. Evidence of skilful trail-laying – or just damn good luck! The plentiful Checks were laid really quite close together in the forest and it surprised me that Simple was the only person who appeared running towards us after stumbling on to a different part of the trail. I would think that, as RA incumbent, he could award himself a retrospective Down Down for being a plonker. Doncha think?

The only bluebottle in the unguent of the Hash buzzed in just after the sweaty Regroup. The same miserable git who has appeared each time we’ve run in the area for the last three years stepped out of his van and enquired boringly, slowly and bucolically exactly as he has done each time previously, “Hev yew got parmishen from the Estate?” And then proceeded to inform us we were frightening the wildlife. The facts that we were a) on a public footpath, b) dogs were on leads, and c) he hadn’t bothered to stop the local youfs from tearing up the woods with their trail bikes seemed somewhat lost on him. I suppose the bloke’s got a job to do though frankly I think we’d be more frightened of any wildlife than they would be of us and burnt-out cars deep in the wood provided evidence of far more dastardly deeds than a swift run. Still, it was very amusing watching Mr Blobby being restrained from pushing the bloke’s face in. We wouldn’t want him to be served with an ASBO (Anti Social Blobby Order) would we?

As darkness crept around us a couple of torches were lit to help find the single blob from the Checks and a certain urgency appeared at the thought of missing the beer and/or the food leading to an increase in pace and a decrease in accuracy – Zebedee speeding On-back since he didn’t believe the trail could go through a housing estate. It did. Never mind. We all got back safe and sound and no-one went without sustenance, liquid or solid.

Lastly, I must mention Spot, who appeared to have strode out of the egotism closet with big boots on and a winning smile. The fellow was sitting in the AGM wearing a T-shirt, the back of which was adorned with a scattering of spots and the logo, ‘Spots before your eyes? That’s because he’s always at the front! On On’. He needs watching. It’s always the quiet ones. On On. Hashgate.

p.s. Congratulations to ShutupWally who raised £100 for the Anthony Nolan Bone Marrow Trust by selling running socks. What a salesman!

Down Downs

Outgoing RA Dumper presented the following :-



Style points

Steamer, Twanky

100 and 50 runs apiece. Well done chaps.

Very smooth


His birthday. He doesn’t look a day over 60

Had to make do with a small, individual cake. Chomped it down though and sluiced his pint.


Mobile phone call during the Circle.

Even faster than his red-faced phone call answer

The entire outgoing Committee

They’re all very outgoing

Downed with collective style

Mr Blobby, LoudonTasteless and Baldrick

The two Hares and one who wore the same T shirt just to confuse everyone

Mr Blobby just sneaked it


Awarded a very well deserved Down Down for stepping down after 14 years(!) on the Committee

If only I could drink as fast as he does…

Up and Coming



Grid Reference




* Sunday *


The Tweseldown
Near Fleet

Foghorn (poor sod)




The Black Lion, Woodcote

Florence, Zebedee

Potential Hares

If you would like to lay a trail but don’t know how to do it have a word with Trailmaster C5 and he’ll fix you up with an experienced Hasher who will help you lay a trail and show you the finer points of confusing the FRBs and keeping the Pack together. Haring is even more fun than Hashing since you don’t have to pay Tick money and you get a free drink afterwards. What could be better? Give it a try!