BH³ Crew

Scarlet Pimpernel Mrs Pimp Donut Hashgate BGB Paella Poca Glitttertits Pissquick Billybullshit C5 Cerberus Desperate Shitfor Cheating Flash Skids Simple Tinopener Lilo and dog Emma Centaur Iceman Blowjob Slowsucker Swallow Foghorn NipponTuck Itsyor Fiddler Escort Nick Snowballs Potty Nutcracker Mr Blobby Mrs Blobby Utopia Motox Fannybag Bogbrush Dumper Septic Sjitshoveller Penny Pitstop Dunny Rampant Rabbit Cabin Buoy Ben Helen James Ms Whiplash Salome Trish TomTom Spex LoudonTasteless Florence ZebedeeQuack Just Moist Fritz Psycological messenger Boy George and dog Lucy Shutupwally Aqua Oz

Spot’s 20^th Year Hash!

It was a surprise that The Ship didn’t keel over and sink given the number of Hashers who arrived to celebrate Spot’s 20 years in Hashing. The lad has done extremely well according to official BH³ records, coming up to his 100^th run very soon. Mind you, he nearly didn’t attend his own Hash tonight. Setting off earlier across the road to lay the Trail with the intrepid Foghorn he came across a herd of golden Aberdeen Angus who eyed him with all the pent-up ferocity of a House of Commons Speaker lambasting an MP who dared to call for transparency in the matter of expenses. Hoofing the sward they began to advance on him slowly and deliberately, led by a well-horned beast silently intoning, “One more step skinny boy and you’re chopped liver.” (The creature had evidently been grooving to some slightly older Eminem recently). Spot sensibly backed away, leaving the herd to mutter and stamp triumphantly – which is why we started by going up the track to the side of the field, instead of through it. I’m sure Fannybag and Donut were especially pleased with this.

The Trail started as it continued, a fast-paced hurtle that threatened heart attacks and plimsoll blow-outs. There was certainly a Regroup but all the rest was a virtual blur as we sped up hills, down valley sides, across streams and through damp forests. We were lucky that the weather was quite pleasant, as I mentioned to Nippon Tuck. “It’s really quite warm.” I mentioned to our returnee as an opening conversational ploy. “Not that warm.” She replied sardonically as I realised she currently lives in Hawaii. Even warmer is where her husband, Puppy, is at present. The Middle East is not renowned for its polar bear population.

The early part of the Trail supplied some humour when we passed a gentleman indulging in a spot of topiary with a tall hedge. Fannybag was unsure whether he had just trimmed the foliage into the shape of an elephant’s head or a person’s bottom. There certainly was no discernible trunk. Perhaps it was a Manx elephant or maybe the gent was a J-Lo fan. Very smooth and curvy whatever it was.

I can tell that the Trail was fast since the next note on my recording machine mentions the Regroup, where Fiddler, Slowsucker and Bogbrush fetched up a little before the rest. And my mind is slightly blank on how we got there. Not surprising really, since the Hares had laid a teasing, twisting trail that included standard Checks and one-blob Checks and Bars that confused the FRBs and enabled the Pack to keep fairly well together. It seemed that whenever we got to the front there was Motox striding along in his seven-league trainers. The bloke fairly flies along. If there is an off-road walking race in the upcoming Olympics we need to enter him. A Gold medal would look pretty good on the Hash mantelpiece. The best moment at the Regroup was provided by Billy, who had been scampering along at the front like a demented pixie whose head was covered in grey pubic hair. The fellow arrived after everyone else, having chased the rightly frightened new boy James through the woods and lost both shoes in the shiggy. If only I’d had a camera! A curious moment also occurred while we rested when BGB informed Shitfor and me that he had received calls from several Hashes requesting him to lay Trails. We informed him that no doubt the calls had been made by BH³ Hashers disguising their voices in order to ensure he laid Trails for other Hashes instead of ours. His legendary parsimony with flour has caused many of our members to fall frothing to a forest floor in the agony of multiple Trail loss syndrome.

And then we streamed off again, straight into a three-way Check that fooled most of us. Quite a contingent trotted up a wooded hill to a long False. Then back down again past a grinning Spot. How we smiled too… But not as much as when we hit the Bar-6 a few miles along. It was down a long country road and Slowsucker, having got well behind the front runners passed me with a wry but determined, “Bit of a challenge to catch up then.” And pumped along the road after them like he was being chased by a large and very gay bear with a penchant for the older bloke. Bit of a shame then, that he had to pump all the way back when they hit the Bar-6. However, His Eminence forbore to fulminate on the waywardness of the Hares and pasted on, the invisible bear close (on his) behind.

One of the things that struck me (and others) was the sheer beauty of the buttercup-dotted green pastures up which we strode. The setting sun lit them beautifully and even Poca, who will not be entering a garden in the Chelsea Flower Show this year was moved to pontificate, “Those yellow things look really nice. And the white ones too.” If you need any gardening advice I suggest you go elsewhere. Talking of the Twigg famille may I congratulate Glittertits and Pissquick on an excellently conceived and executed Moonlight Hash on Saturday. The only fly in the ointment was when GT set up a second patio heater in the originally cold tent they had erected to shelter the guzzlers and swillers. It got so hot in there he stripped to the buff. Luckily, I had left by that time.

After what seemed like many miles Aqua led one of the final charges that got us towards the On Inn and I followed Nippon Tuck, Dunny and Rampant down a steep forest path, through a sloppy field pock-marked with hoofmarks and along a wavering trail to finally fetch up at the pub where the alluring Septic greeted us with her trousers half way on, or off. Dumper seemed happy, either way. And we leave this missive with a snapshot of Dumper in the pub, later. As we chatted by a chest-high wooden carving of Long John Silver he decided to step back on to it, tripped and nearly fell arse over head. I believe it was the protruding wooden nose that worried him most. “I thought I was being taken from behind.” Was his excuse. By a wooden sailor?! Don’t even think about it.

Excellent Trail Spot and Foghorn and congratulations Spot on your 20^th year! On On. Hashgate.

Down Downs

RA Glittertits presented the following :-

Didn’t exactly race this down

Up and Coming

Sponsorship Event
Please sponsor Scarlet Pimpernel and Mrs Pimp for the Wokingham ½ Marathon in aid of the June Hancock Mesothelioma research Fund by visiting www.justgiving.com/stevelee09

Spring Into Summer Walk
Around 8 miles of enjoyable walking on Sunday, May 31^st @ 11 a.m. Meet opposite the King Charles Head, Goring Heath (665788). Pub stop for food/drink or bring a snack. All welcome. See Motox for details.