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Run: 1234   Date: 18 Nov. 2001   Venue: Nea Makri   Hare: S4S + Spume  Scribe: Ram Pants

Important attachment at end of this missive please read.

Woke up reluctantly with large wet nose in face. Tried to turn over and go back to sleep but found myself pinioned to bed, by large happy black dog. Opened hungover eye found it was some ungodly hour of the morning and had only had a couple of hours sleep. Dog refused point blank to leave and started miffing at earspliting decibels.

Threw animal out. Went back to bed. 10 min later some idiot rang me at 8:30 Sunday morning wanting to take me out to play for the day. Snarled and went back to bed. 20 min later dog miffing and sobbing uncontrollably to be let back in. Got up and gave in. Staggered around for awhile and came to the conclusion I had had fun the night before. Looked around excitedly for male of the species but found non. Made mistake of saying HASH BASH to hound.

Hangover recovery breakfast was thereafter interrupted by large silly giddy dog running around hovel at great speed while I hit head against brick wall. Periodically he came and wopped me with paw to tell me to get move on.

Hit road and arrived for first time in living memory at HASH before everyone else had set off.

Found sad bunch of woe-begone huddled hashers standing by wayside mostly hungover. Only bright spark was child who was being tormented by Bookmaker trying to play role of father educator pointing at interesting bits of flora and fauna. Child coped remarkably well, saving his 'What planet is this bozo from' looks for hound.

Spent considerable time, closing one eye or the other, in an attempt to reduce sunlight reaching brain. Decide I could appreciate the problem vampires must have when getting out of bed 12 hours too early. Designer-label sunglass makers, obviously never have hangovers. Eventually we set off, I guess. Because next thing I remember is having come across Hamish in cute beach spot, handing out hot soup and jolly nice plonk. Larger group of sad looking hungover people sped past going in opposite direction, away from food which seemed a tad odd. Odder still, they were demanding car keys from people:

Dog seemed to have found his own way to picnic and had nicely ensconced himself in crowd of admirers when I arrived, being hand fed on titbits and having his bumps felt by assorted females. He particularly like the pork in plum sauce and has been letting it be known that Hamish is suitable candidate for adopted YaYa (Greek grandmother) .

Time past in a blur of plonk and curry and the GM strutting around winging (He is only person I know who can strut and winge at same time). Apparently he had the strange idea that a bunch of cold people should sit and look at hot food for a couple of hours while he had his circle. Fortunately, Hamish has got his priorities in life right. Drink: food and drink and maybe the occasional woman.

At some point, the group of people who had previously been running away from the food, must have heard there wasn't in fact any anthrax in it and returned. They must have done it quietly as I did not notice their return until grabbed by THE Marine who had last been seen leading them away from danger in true Marine style.

Apparently the scare had been triggered by glutinous white stuff in pot, which in fact turned out to have been Hamish's attempt at rice….

THE marine then attempted to get out of his faux pas by explaining he had only been demonstrating the behaviour of Greek policemen when confronted by anarchists bearing rockets coated with white powder which were detonated over their heads….

Circle time came and can remember not much at all except someone, I think gobbler was narked that she got a mug about 100 runs too late. She also announced her matchmaking service by way of getting herself nominated for a down down. I have to recommend her services, excellent results so far. Though she did chicken out on grabbing muscle bound Greek hunk posing on beach (GM insisted he was gay, though how he knew he wouldn't let on) assembled females would have loved chance to find out for sure or at least try and convert him (but alas not to be, she suddenly got shy).Bookmaker's hat bit the dust nicely if I remember correctly. And a Wombal from Wimbledon arrived in time to have a drink and a few crumbs of cheese.

At some point THE marine tried to compete with Greek hunk by stripping off, apparently on the pretext of putting hash shirt on top of his sweat shirt. But he did it so surreptitiously that assembled females almost missed it. LADIES: We gotta give him some lessons in posing and how to be Macho.

Suddenly everyone decided it was time to go, at which point my phone rang and missing man from night before was located. In the ensuing Melee, Mellie insisted on talking to him, wanting to know all the juicy details as he was the first member of her matchmaking stable of males. Somehow prised her off the phone before car got trashed by heard of drunken hashers all making for same exit at same time and escaped back to hovel for tea and Hob-nobs and sleep. Rest of gang went to Gobblers for more alcohol.

So They came, They hashed and They picnicked yet one more time on run 1234.

Scribe would like to point out, that she takes absolutely no responsibility for this communication whatsoever and if this has come into your hands accidentally please treat it as top secret and destroy it immediately. The factual contents can in no way be guaranteed and can not in any way be said to reflect the opinions or beliefs of the HASH in any way whatsoever. It was not my fault I didn't do it and if I did it was done in a similar state of hungovedrness and is entirely down to MMS (Mellies matchmaking service). The good news is the missing man took slightly less time to locate following day.