Run Date: 20th July 2020
Run No #2072
Hare: Wombat
Venue: 8 Hokin Street Glenella
Hashers: 17

 

Wombat welcomed us all with open arms as we strolled up the side to where she had the fire ready to go. Just need a helping hand to chop some wood where a couple of able-bodied Hashers were only too delighted to be of help and show their masculinity off. We welcomed Knicka and Piccolo (cannot keep a good Hasher down) GM had kindly picked them both up. Knicka had some rather interesting artwork on his shirt too that he had resurrected from the hospital where they had literally cut it off him the prior week. 

Out the front just after 6pm Wombat gave her instructions and we dispersed, around the burbs of Glenella, past Tonguer’s place. Pit stop at Wombat’s daughter’s place and On Home to where the fire was raging! BUT ALAS NO PISS!! What has Hash come to! Zorro saved the evening and quickly went and bought supplies much to the relief of the thirsty mob.

Tarzan called the circle and Flaps took the stance for the first story. Something about him being a Virgin and then mixed that up with talking about his wife but the marriage but not have been consummated at that stage! Jokes and charges called for to add to the evening’s entertainment until it was ‘Award time’

Cap for 50 runs for Wheelie (not impressed with his cap – doesn’t wear caps and no way was that hat going on his head!, although Streaker persevered to get a photo) 

400 runs for Golly – well he wore the pants over his head like a Burqua. 

& a special cap for Knicka which was to replace one stolen and not returned many years ago. It was called ‘The Swan Dive Award’

Raffle drawn by Delicious and would you believe Knicka won the $50 voucher from Dan Murphy! Might help dull some of the pain from those broken ribs!

Wombat then made a dart for the kitchen and brought out the Hash Nosh, well prepared Savoury mince with rice, but wait there was more. Wombat knows how to spoil us Hashers, she then served individual Banana Cakes with custard. Long live Hash! 

On On to Clairview over the weekend and then On On to GM’s for next week’s run. 

Teflon

   

    

Run Date: 13th July 2020
Run No #2071
Hare: Piccolo 
Venue: 82 Grendon Street North Mackay
Hashers: 25

 

Twenty five eager souls gathered under the impressive shadow of Piccolo’s towering Queenslander as the night air grew heavier and colder.

After much filibustering and posturing, a few reluctant reprobates dragged themselves away from the fire pit to mill around Piccolo’s driveway entrance like a bunch hapless water buffalo wallowing in a top-end rainstorm in readiness to receive their written instructions.

Whilst Piccolo’s distribution of her eight envelopes of run instructions could hardly be called strategic nor military like, but none the less, it was achieved (eventually).

Run directions given were clear and straight forward which resulted in a relatively uneventful yet moderately lengthy run, and that’s where the uneventfulness ended.

A circle was formed before JCF, sporting a raft of lower-leg injuries, apparently suffered while attempting to negotiate the hard flat surface of Piccolo’s driveway, arrested Monk duties off Tarzan. JCF’s Norman Gunstan-like performance was occasionally punctuated by activities such as a welcome to some new runners, a down-down for a visiting runner – Weak as Piss (who has apparently had more Hash names than Pharlap had starts) plus Streaker got in on the act momentarily and furnished JCF with some tie-on shlong.

No sooner than an excruciatingly poor rendition of the club song was finished, Nicker Licker, as part of his taper for selection into the dive team for the up-coming Tokyo Olympics, launched himself from Piccolo’s internal staircase and performed a double summersault finished off with a triple pike while holding a large crockery dish full of Hash nosh. Whilst a fiercely impressive human physical feat, it was the sound effects emanating from his attempt at such a difficult maneuver that caught every ones attention.

The loud bang certainly aroused the attention of a large ferocious-looking white dog, who bounded out of a lower floor door, briefly gazed left at some very tasty offerings on the floor at the base of the staircase, but out of his right eye, caught a glimpse of salt and pepper fluffy poodles, who he considered would go very nice as a garnish on top of the recently presented smorgasbord- a couple of nervous moments until the said white dog was corralled back inside.

Meanwhile, the Hash Emergency Response Team sprang into action with military-like precision, and instantaneously, 24 mobile phones jammed the emergency services number in an effort to call an ambulance  – would have been 25 if Nicker Licker could have found his phone, but it is speculated that during his unorthodox decent of the stairs, his phone got jammed up his arse.

Successful contact was finally made with QAS and a unit was dispatched. In the meantime, Nicker was ably assisted by a number of capable bodies including Top Knot and Half-a-Boat. The injured party was eventually evacuated from the site and taken to the local hospital to have his mobile phone surgically removed from his arse.

Good to see Hash keeps on giving!!

Smut

 

Run Date: 6th July 2020
Run No #2070
Hare: Prick 
Venue: 5/1 Kenzey St Mt Pleasant
Hashers: 16 ish

I think 16  Hashers gathered at Pricks place (hard to tell, because whenever I tried to count them, the women were pissing off to the dunny because of the cold & others  to the piss truck parked in the next suburb)

As you have probably gathered by now, Piccolo is not the author of this trash, because the mammary mafia  banded together to excuse her of the ornery task of  not talking long enough to actually  observe what else was going on. ( Don’t give me that shit about multy  tasking.)  So muggings here got shafted. Now it’s payback time.

As is the case lately a fire is the order of the day so as everyone arrived they did a little circle of the warmth  to await the mysteries of  the evening shuffle. As is also the case at this time the quality of the wood being burnt is discussed, and the  usual two groups formed,  1 ;  is it safe no chemicals   2 ;  who gives a shit    The second group must have won because it took Prick till 6.10 to get everyone away from the fire to the start.

The start !  that is almost as much as I know about the trail.  After  confidently following the trail down Kenzey St we walked into the never never and wandered around aimlessly doing a perfect imitation of the “Where The Fuck Are We Tribe” until we gave up and went back to the fire and booze.  NATURALLY

Back at the on on  we were spun a story by two  suspect characters about them finding & following the trail Prick on hearing this backed them up insinuating the trail was set perfectly and gaining brownie points with the “GM” and the person  he expected to write the run report  HaHa  HeHe  (2020 strikes again)  A perfect example of never letting the truth get in the way of a good story and the dangers of handballing the writing of the Hash Trash,

After warming  up and cooling down (fire and cold booze) the circle was called and Prick was called to task, me for getting a year older, Baagoose & Half a boat for hiding the top of their heads and the naming of  “topknot” .  The usual hash info and Delicious once again hell bent on ripping off our money in the guise of a raffle.  Song sung, Circle closed, and a stampede to the nosh of pies & pea’s    

      

 

 Great Hash night, lots of lies between friends

Next week at Piccolo’s

On On. Nicka.

Run Date: 29th June 2020
Run No #2069
Hare: Half a Boat 
Venue: 12 David Muir Street Slade Point
Hashers: 20 ish

22 Hashers gathered at Half-a-Boat’s shed to celebrate EOFY, dominated by the re-appearance of a tanker that he obviously hadn’t finished playing with, so, seeing as the shed was strewn with assorted tools, we had to make do with sitting outside around a blazing fire. Since there was more than the prescribed 20 at the gathering, we formed 2 groups, one with 20, the other with 2 miserable souls who were banished to the periphery with the mozzies and doggie-do.

Eventually Halfa called us to the front gate and mumbled something about marks and signs and sand and mud and who knows what else, before we stumbled off into the night. Nothing exciting happened until all members re-appeared at the shed, and got down to the serious business of sipping beers, whilst Chopstix slaved away in the kitchen van, rustling up some grub for later.

After the cash was collected Tarzan called the circle to order, and dispensed a down-down to the hare for setting such a marathon, and proceeded to call for jokes (none) or stories (several) including some long-winded ramblings from Baagoose, a re-hashed yarn from Flaps, and a terrible tale of major motorcycle mayhem from yours truly.

The monk disappeared for a while, only to reappear in full monk regalia, and proceeded to call forth Ross (Delicious’ playmate) for a christening. It seems Ross has somewhat of a major brewing operation at his home, producing kegs of beer and kegs of spirits. Henceforth, he will be known as Distillery.

WheelieBin received a downdown for becoming Uncle to Fill de Jaw’s little (large, 8.5lb) man Noah. Wheelie also demonstrated his personal social distancing, by cheerfully hugging anyone within reach. JCF also got a free drink, because, well, he likes free drinks. There may have been other charges, but I forgot.

With no further business to conduct, the Monk led a lusty rendition of the song, before closing the circle. We then fell upon the delicio offerings from Annie’s Kitchen, rice and 3 assorted Chinese concoctions, which were quickly devoured by the ravenous mob. After that, there was nothing to do except slurp more beer and talk more shit….. and then wander off into the night.

All-in-all, a great Hash night.

See y’all next week at Prick’s.

On On. Pensioner.

Run Date: 22nd June 2020
Run No #2068
Hare: Tarzan
Venue: 4 Evans Ave North Mackay
Hashers: 20 ish

 

No more than 20 eager hashers landed at Tarzan and Uturn’s abode for a run which was to be like no other.

Gathering early to get the greetings and gossip out of the way, all 20 of the conclave were eager to receive the enchiridion by the hare. He did not disenchant with the announcement of a chalkless course in the form of an envelope run!

Tarzan carefully selected reliable hashers and handed them envelopes. After handing out the first envelope his plan was dashed as no one else cared or accepted responsibility so he handed them out to anyone!

Off we went with vigour and at a blistering pace. Words used to describe the trail include, brilliant, best in ages, amazing and after Tarzan finished talking it up the pack commented. Words like dangerous, knee crippling and simple, bloody trail were bantered around.

Nevertheless, the dedicated team of envelope lickers soldiered on and on and on on until….. big gap because ghost author went back on home and thanks Zorro for carrying him the last kilometre.

Back at MH3 COVID-19 Safezone, the beers were on as everyone returned from the trail, 20 people, no more, no less iterated stories of h1n1, covid-19 and other critical diseased numbers from the past. Finally the circle was called and loosely formed.

The hare was charged along with the Birthday Kids before some serious charges were laid, heard and sentencing delivered to a plethora of people. The song was sung, well I might add and clozed as the monk says.

Dinner was pizza for the people and bbq’d steaks for those few fortunate enough not to be there.

Drinks and a great passage of story telling by the usual suspects topped off a great night.

Next week’s run is at my shed, me, Half a Boat so come along as I think Annie is cooking Turkish food!

 

Run Date: 15th June 2020
Run No #2067
Hare: Zorro
Venue: Mackay Fencing 70 Satellite Crescent Mackay Harbour
Hashers: 20 ish

Galloping through the COVID-19 restrictions a gathering of 20 turned up at Zorros workplace for some well earned HASHING. Not to disappoint Zorro set a torturous run through the outer harbour precinct taking in the new access road & picturesque scenery abounding in this area. How did I know it was picturesque (it was bloody dark that’s how). No only that I saw it in the daytime. Trooping on we soon discovered there was no shortcut to Home. I got a lift after assessing my chances of clambering down a horribly steep concrete bank. Once back at the business end a circle was called with the official down down song for the hare. Some jokes old and new were told. Down downs for Golly (no hash attire) SMUT returning runner after 6 years in the wilderness. ZORRO & STREAKER (hashers birthdays). Then Matches did her absolute magic trick of producing the best home made dips in the whole hash world (THANKS MATCHES). Next copious amounts of sausages, bread, potatoes, sauce etc.were dished up. Then another trump card was played.Zorro produced a tray of mixed chocolate biscuits & licorice all sorts for dessert. I think Zorro is after the best hash nosh trophy. Thanks for a great night, see ya all next week at The TARBOYS..

Run Date: 8th June 2020
Run No #2066
Hare: Live GM
Venue: John Breen Park Malcolmson Street North Mackay 
Hashers: 20 ish

Last Monday night 8^th June, saw the start-up of Mackay Hash, where there was a good turn up 20ish eager to be back in the Hash fold again.

We met at the John Breen Park where Streaker blew her horn just after 6pm and we headed off in the dark with our torches around the Goose Ponds and chattered merrily along the way, something we’ve all missed.

Gathering back at the BBQ area Pensch resumed his position after 11 week break collecting the Hash Cash. Circle called with something about 1.5 metre distancing which meant the circle was a rather large one. Jokes, stories and updates were shared and enjoyed. Pizzas were ordered and enjoyed down to the very last piece. Good on you Dominoes $5.00 value pizzas does the trick to fill those Hashers tummies.

On On

On Sec

 

HashNonTrash for run 2067 or 8 or 9…….. 13/04/20

Following on from an action-packed Easter where everyone stayed home, a whole hoard of non-hashers failed to descend on the White House in Rural View, to find the only Donnie in view was not His Royal Trumpship, but was in fact Streaker’s non-dog Donnie, who was viciously set upon by Mango’s non-pussy, whom she had inspiringly named Kit. Kit The Puss.
Swarming around the anti-Corona Virus spray, a dedicated band of non-hashers failed dismally in social distancing, non-hugging each other with pent-up glee. Things were starting to non-heat up and get a little steamy, so Pensch called the throng to the front yard, where he drew attention to the hill-levelling installation of three escalators, which weren’t there at all. Instead, the throng weren’t told to piss off in the direction of the park, beside which a patient herd of cattle stood quietly moo-ing, wearing their new saddles, upon which the non-hashers would be transported to the true start of the non-run at the bowls club, which had it’s doors firmly closed. Unfortunately, once aboard, the cows decided this was not a good idea, and immediately bucked the offending hashers off. That’s bucked, with a B…..

Deciding that 100 metres was far enough for a non-run, the non-hashers agreed to return to the White House On The Hill and enjoy some delectables. However, on arrival, they found that, being a non-run, there was no nibblies. And no Nosh. And since the HashPiss hadn’t arrived, no drinks as well. All topped off by no dessert. There was no circle, no charges, no jokes, no talk. A superb non-event. Topped off by what could only be described as a stoke of genius by Pensch. A quick phone call to the local constabulary saw a fleet of police cars not arrive on scene, and several Const. Plods cheerily handing out $1300 fines to all non-attendees. A magnificent windfall for our State Govt.

Tired, broke and hungry, our non-hashers decided to call it a day, but were further disappointed when they discovered their cars had all been non-vandalised by the local non-urchins.

All-in-all, Non-Hash at it’s finest.

Geez, I hope this shit doesn’t go on much longer

Pensch……

Non HashTrash #2067 or 8 or 9

57 brave non-hashers didn’t turn up at someone’s place, for what turned out to be the non-hash event of the year. Upon arrival we found non-hare Prick had gone all out with a team of masseuses busily preparing benches for a quick rub down. Massages over, the venerable non-hare led us down the drive, where he explained the trail had not been marked in chalk, flour or gold-plated toilet paper. Amid a cry of OnOn we didn’t set off. At the first corner we found the non-hare had not provided a piss-stop of refreshing cold Coronas. Nor had he provided any Virus Vodka, which could have made up an interesting CoronaVirus beveridge. We then failed to proceed, with Screw complaining his knee was not sore. Delicious claimed her knee was likewise not sore, and even old Knicker didn’t do a highkick with his non dodgy old leg. Fork didn’t quite run a sprint, and Hooker failed to get lost, not helped by Lassie, who claimed to not know the way. Running late, Tonguer failed to appear, but Snot did, having not picked up Blurry for a non-attempt to flee S.A.’s rigid border patrols. Golly didn’t find any non-false trails, and Corgi was quick to not find any either. A large group of nattering harriettes did not gossip, and the rest of the blokes didn’t short cut, not following Zorro to the nearest non-open pub. Eventually, we all didn’t wander back to Prick’s abode, where we weren’t at all surprised to find a team of white-coated silver service waiters not serving marvelously decadent hors d’oeuvres.
We didn’t gather around the portable bar not staffed by red-coated barmen, serving non-drinks of any description. Some of our Harriettes nearly suggested said barmen were not wearing enough clothes on such a chilly night.
Suddenly the non-monkee called for a square, not having a circle. The NonMonk likewise didn’t have a run report, a hare downdown, or any charges. No jokes were told, and no-one said anything. The non-GM had no announcements, and several members fell asleep.
The mob was not surprised then, to hear the non-hare call for quiet, as he didn’t wave his arm in the direction of a vast buffet of fillet steak, lobster, and a full menu of ready vegs and salads, meats and fishes, pastas and various sauces, served by voluptuous serving wenches.  All of which wasn’t there, and therefore not paid for from his own vastly deep pockets.
After not indulging in such a feast, we non-hashers settled in for a session of non drinks not served by the non-barmen, until 11.00pm didn’t roll around, and the hare gleefully told us all a fleet of stretched limousines were not waiting to drive us all home.
Once home, I fell into an immediate deep-sleep, didn’t snore once, and failed to have a throbbing headache in the morning.
All in all at terrible hash non-night   

See ya, Pensch.

                             *******************************************************************

Well what a week it has been! So many liberties shutting everything non essential down. I like all hashers across the world was extremely upset, yet understanding, when MH3 held its last run for some time last week.

Having said that I emailed all of the applicable applicants in my email list and decided to rebel against the decision and hold a virus rebel hash anyways. Well all of the recipients on the email list turned up and what a great evening it was.

For the fist time ever, held the run from my kitchen. At precisely 608pm I called everyone to attention and explained the trail markings etcetera along with the usual puns, short, no hills, mud or water on the trail. I laughed because I called bullshit on that one. I’ve never set a trail without some surprise!

Off I went and it was not long before I found a check, leading me all the way to the coffee table before finding it was a false trail. On back I went, finding the right trail leading me to bedroom 2. I thought at one stage I was on a run set be Delicious because I passed through a downpour of rain in the bathroom and crossed a water trap bathtub before moving onto the main bedroom. Stuffed from the run I took a quick nap before moving onto the courtyard. The jungle caused by the owner not weeding the garden was like crossing a forest and getting onto dark I realised I didn’t bring a torch.

I heard the familiar “on on” call thankfully knowing I was on trail and finally found an on home taking me back to the kitchen.

Back home and not finding the familiar piss truck, I reached into the fridge and pulled out a coldie. Pensioner being absent I also took the money for the night crossing off the attendees.

Some pretty funny conversations and stories from the week were told but I was rudely interrupted by not Mango calling the member to form a circle.

Not Tarzan got me up for a drink for being the front running bastard and last home. Charges were also given to JCF for not wearing hash attire and me for chatting in the circle. I winged and whined dictating I was not Streaker but not Tarzan being monk wins the argument every time.

Executive Lunch will be in the courtyard for those interested, just scratch around the fridge and see what you can find.

Dinner was good, grilled cheese on toast. As usual no desert which again caused an argument, I had to laugh, again.

As the evening and alcohol continued to flow I can’t remember what else happened.

Until next week on on and enjoy your isolation!

On On

JCF