HASH SHIT SUNDAY 19TH DECEMBER run number 1403 possibly




Another HASHY tradition (remember no rules on the hash ok!?) as our wonderful xmas hares baked the week away to prepare the mince pies (in gunga din’s case) and the 3 foot of mud (in Major A’s)….. We moved venue to a delightful car park ideally placed next to a smallholding where turkeys were being rounded up and branded…or having those little blue timers stuck up their bums….or whatever you do with a turkey while it is still gobbling and has feathers attached.

As we crawl into training for the real Christmas hangover we gathered to see what a mixture of sherry, mulled wine and beer could do to our running ability. Governments are now becoming interested in this sort of testing of chemical weapons, as the season of good will is upon us and we are having to limit the numbers of official US cars attending with darkened windows and sirens blaring……oops no that was just Pubic Transport as Beer Meister, dropping of the beer and with a squeal of tyres leaving to hold Multiple Rocket Launcher’s hand as she enlarges the family.

Again we had an over abundance of mis management committee in attendance…it must be the xmas shopping knock-on effect…. 3 for the price of 1 and not a cracker between them!!

Pop Up, Playboy 2 and Maddog officiated and called the circle to order…..and tried again…..and again and finally the knitting group packed their wool and needles in the bag and agreed that as the sun was shining now they would not be averse to the idea of a short flat jog around the countryside…… Some hashers handed in their sick notes to the JMs that precluded them from anything too strenuous in the running department and were duly attached to Gunga Din who was leading the walkers and off the runners went in the general direction of the thickest mud Major A could find this side of the rugby pitch.

The route was a cheeky little number which had the front runners scratching their heads and, in some cases, their balls. We jumped the road barrier a few times in search of blue as Major A had decided to slip in a few GAPS to keep the pack together. He also seems to be fairly well acquainted with the long F (false trail to the uninitiated…or the slow ones at the back who have never even seen one EVER) . Major A even managed to lose his son Horny even though he had been in the car when they set most of it.

We spent most of the route scraping layers of mud from shoes and arses and cars….and the AHHH went to the rescue of a young gentleman whose car had embedded itself in a roadside bog and after plenty of advice from hashers on the best way to get a front wheel drive out of such a predicament (we really should not allow anymore engineers on the AHHH), brute force( PUSH YOU USELESS BASTARDS!!!) got him back on the road. We also had special obstacles ….., a bit like hurdles, to jump over, except they moved and were hairy and could hit you from behind at knee height, as both Alice and Leila the Hash Hounds were bowling round with us. Going through puddles with that lot galloping next to you can provide the washing machine with some extra duty.

A special note must be made that Playboy 2 was a FRB for over 5 seconds…..and he actually broke into a trot…….before he was overtaken by Wee Mac, Toe Rag and a big horn…..You may never live to see it again so if you were there, cherish the moment, like the fall of the Berlin Wall or Nelson Mandela walking free…..one of the defining moments of your life with the AHHH.

So there we were, back at the circle and plenty of warm mulled wine to quaff and awards to ….award….that’s what you do with awards…..award them…..errrmmmm.

We also had a mince pie or two, a fab mince slice from Clitoria and a posh cake from Self Service…..shame we can’t do this more often as it is wonderful stomach lining for the beer drinking to follow. All the DIOs were accompanied with a jingle bells version of DOWN ,DOWN, DOWN (try humming to yourself and you will soon be in the spirit) and we closed with our traditional HASHY XMAS ANTHEM led by our own Major A……THE COW KICKED NELLY IN THE .BELLY IN THE BARN starting as he put it, sotto voce and ending with burst eardrums and St.Vitus Dance.

HASHY CHRISTMAS TO ALL HASHERS and other sad buggers as well……ON ON to BOXING DAY where the real hangover sufferers will be laid to rest on the side of Hymettos …..until we give em a beer and coach them round a BOOKMAKER TRAIL