Run 
Date: 1st January 2018
Run No #1945
Hare: Fork & Screw
Venue: 80A Mapleton Drive Andergrove
Hashers: 20 or so
A merry band of hashers , around 20 or so, journeyed out into the blistering heat and violent windstorm of a typical Andergrove summer’s day.
Gathering strength from informal chit-chat, we hoped that Screw wasn’t silly enough to set a run in such energy-sapping conditions. But alas, a cry of OnOn saw us assembled at the gutter, where Screw regaled us with tales of the epic trek he set , we just had to get past 2, that’s 2, checks at the start! Confusion reigned as hashers wandered about in several directions, no mean feat, as the route could only be left or right. One pack went north, one went south….. the northerly group being almost run down by an old bloke in a decrepit Landrover Something. Turned out to be a late-arriving (as usual) Tonguer, who wisely abandoned said vehicle to join the fray. About then a cry of OnBack meant he hadn’t gained a shortcut at all, but had to hurry along to rejoin the southerly mob. Down near the end of Maple Dve the trail turned left, or was it right, but I was accosted by the sight of 2 elderly rotund hashers puffing heavily in the heatwave. They obviously needed immediate re-hydrating, so I did the only decent thing and escorted said rotunds back to the shelter of the HashHouse and some cool life-giving ale. Some time later, about 3 cans worth, the rest of the mob began trickling back in, showing various degrees of sweat-soaked exhaustion. Good on em!
Bullshit prevailed as beers was drunk, and then the Monkee called the circle to order. Charges were doled out to Mango for sitting under a rather large penile bottle opener, which almost caused her to be renamed Cockhead. Tonguer got one for something…. probably to do with refusing to finish Shocker’s house….. and come to think of it Shocker got one too, for not having a joke ready. Yours truly was charged with short-cutting, a blatant lie, as I was helping the rotund ones in a medical emergency. That didn’t bother the rotund Monk (see the connection there) administering a down-down, and I even had to sing my own cunt of a song. Jokes were offered by Blurry, Tonguer, The Monk and myself. Tuesday’s Executive Lunch was set down for the Shamrock pub, and 13 of us showed up, almost as many as last night’s turnout! TGIF was set for Langford’s pub, where the rotund Flaps (get the other connection) is hoping to win 32 cartons of piss, almost enough for a month’s supply! The song was sung with much abandon, as in most abandoned the singing, even the Monk who stuck his nose in his phone (in the circle!!) and got away with it.
Out came the nosh, which was Fork’s spread of ham and salad and rolls n stuff, very Christmassy.
We all stuffed our gobs, drank more piss, then pissed off home leaving a mess behind.
Next week is at the abode of Pensioner & Mango, 12 Douglas Cres Rural View, where it’s much cooler. And flatter.
See yez there……
OnOn Pensch
