Run Report 1829

Run Date: 9^th November
Run No #1829
Hares: No Name Michelle and Snot
Venue: 65 Amhurst Street Slade Point
Hashers: 27

Michelle (Snot) Hash Run

Set in the dunes of Slade Point We set of from 65 Amhurst St. to be exact, as usual the walkers milled around Baa Bah bleat bleat until given some direction from Snot.

We headed of into the dunes along tracks or were they just snake trails with wait a while vines.

Daffodil though he got bitten by snake and got Corgi to suck it off.

We came to a steep embankment and up we went to find a falsie then along a bit and up the embankment again WHP nearly had to engage 4wheel drive, Smeg did.

WHP milled around the sand dunes with Sweet Meat, Shocker and Hot Rocks found a false trail or two till we ended up on the beach for a trot. Then up into the dunes again and out near the Pub and up Scawfell Av. onto the alleyway Hot Rocks, Shocker and WHP could smell the beer but not Sweet Meat as she headed into the dark deep suburbs of Slade Point.

Excellent RUN proper stuff like sand, mossies, bush, snakes, etc.

Eventually those dawdlers arrived back and disrupted the real Hashers having our fourth beer.

All milled around and scoffed bikkies and Dip and Payed up.

Then the Newly elected hierarchy called a circle. The hair was called and so was Snot as Michelle is a newbie to the hash ways and needed guidance with the intricacies of setting a run.

There was jokes told and the usual bull shit that goes with an anarchy style system.

The new GM did a down for his lost poofta chair, plus a couple of other indiscretions. 

There was a group down down for loud bull shitters that interrupt the Monk and Monkeeeee

There was phones going and being answered in the bushes Hooker had a down down for it

Hooker also had a down down for stashing a Grand under her mattress with a black sausage watch dog to guard it.

The nameless Michelle was called out on all had to kneel for a naming after a protracted story she was named ALIBI. So now we all have an Alibi when we go to hash assuming our Alibi turns up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jokes were told we sang and the circle ended

Nosh was cooked and gorged up on by all very nice assholes in rolls with a bit of green stuff

The new Monkeeeee had his breatho measurer for anybody that desired to see what effect the beer had on them, As we all headed off to our cosy little beds to rest up for the ensuing day.
ON ON WHP

Wassen Me I had an Alibi

I didn’t pack the esky I only kept it cold.