Village People

Quack BlowJob Donut Swallow Shandyman Vlad Drac Chopstix Spex LoudonTasteless Mr Blobby Mrs Blobby Utopia Baldrick OldFart SlowSucker Foghorn Dutch Shitfer Desperate Iceman BlouseBlazer Spot Dumper whiteFang Tapeworm Stripper Cheating Miss Whiplash Craig Itsyor Fiddler Florence TT2 Zebedee Hamlet Centaur Dwight Poppy Nutty Dwayne Snowballs Nappyrash Hitchhiker Whinge Escort Simple Caboose Flash Ozzie Angie Wendy Dunny Twanky Kiwi Fruit Diver Tarmac Cuddler Three Ladies (although I think this might have actually been a trio of women) Apologies to those not on the list but in truth I don’t think I could match faces to names for half the people who made the list! I call for mug-shots to be added to the website!

Nocturnal Manoeuvres (or ‘the fun run in reverse’ or ‘what kind of imbecile lays a hash on top of a one-day old bash?’)

Arriving at our statutory time of seven minutes late Itsyor and I completely missed Motox’s preamble to the hash. Fortunately, in order to help me on my first outing as scribe, Slowsucker recorded (along with the names list) Motox’s sage words of advise “If you’re called on-back…You’re going the wrong way”. I know, it seems obvious, but there are some members of the Hash (Billy Bullshit – an absentee tonight) who could do well to remember this on future outings (Especially Hashes that myself and Itsyor spend most of Monday laying!!!). Anyway, thanks for your help Slowsucker.

So, jumping out of the car just in time to see the last of the pack disappearing into a field opposite the hall I quickly buckled my shoes, performed my injury prevention routine of stretches and warm up, took a look up and down the road, carefully walked across it and began the chase. The chase lasted approximately thirty-seconds as the pack was returning from a mistaken jaunt down a footpath back into the field. Incredibly the leader at this early stage was Dumper. This, plus the obvious geographical reasons inspired the first subtitle.

We moved out on to a road and checked back and forth to find the trail leading through a skate park and past The Rising Sun pub. No time for an early beer stop though as a mass of checks and paths was causing havoc up ahead. In fact there were so many choices of paths that an unusual assortment of people ended up checking out. In an unprecedented show of energy and athleticism Twanky ran off into the woods opposite the pub for all of twenty yards only to discover a false and Kiwi Fruit thought he’d worked it out only to realise he’d miscounted on his way to four and had found another false.

It then turned out that one of the ‘false’ trails was actually not marked by an ‘F’ but a slightly dilapidated ‘P’. Motox decided it was now time to marshal the troops so he called us across a road and out for a pleasant jog around an evergreen forest. It was at this point that things got even more complicated (see subtitle number two). Apparently there had been a Bash laid in the same stretch of woods only on day previously which meant we now had to try and distinguish between two different trails.

After several ‘blue-arsed fly’ impressions the pack headed down towards a foul smelling bog and then back up the hill where arboritologists (that may or may not be a real word) will have noticed a change from evergreens to beech trees and a much more autumnal appearance to the woods. I also noticed Cheating running at least half a mile of the real trail although this was probably accidental and due to him avoiding the markings put down for the Bash.

Successfully avoiding three motocross bikes I then found myself running across a field of heather under a beautiful azure sky – everything was peaceful, calm, serene – “ON ON” I bellowed. The trail then led back into the woods and a check appeared with three different paths leading off it. I mused on the choices: should I go to the right and look after my own interests by choosing a flat easy path? Should I go to the left and ‘take one for the team’ by selflessly checking the more hilly route? No, I chose the middle path, the way of the Buddha and would you believe it I was correct.

I followed this path for about a mile and probably ten or more blobs only to then find a false. I wondered whether it might be possible to carbon date it and find out whether it was another impostor from the Bash while the rest of the pack stalled behind me and wondered why I’d stopped. At this point C5 turned up. He also wondered why we’d stopped as apparently he’d forgotten where the trail went. Senility obviously has a detrimental effect on your ability to be a hare. Fortunately Foggy was calling on (from somewhere in Mortimer) and we followed his dulcet tones back to the trail. It then started to get darker, and darker still until it was, well, dark. I didn’t have a watch on but I didn’t need it. I knew what time it was. It was time to stop running about in a dark wood and go and have a drink. Exactly how we found our way back to the hall I don’t know as it was too dark to see any flour at all for the last few miles. However, make it we did and after a final sprint past a petrol station the reassuring lights of the hall were in view. Thanks Motox, C5 and Uplift for the last Monday run of the season.

On On. Fiddler.

Down Downs

RA Simple presented the following :-

If you’ve ever seen a twat drink a pint of beer you’ll need no further explanation.

Up and Coming