Hash Number 1484 – 3rd July 2006

 

An Illustrious Hash

 

Hare: Fiery Twat

Venue: Thission Station


 

 

Other than attending a Catholic School I hadn’t had many sado-masochistic experiences  but then I had never been on one of Fiery Twat’s special hashes. What could I learn? What joy would be spread? And, would it hurt?

 

The answers were: not much, not much and yes.

 

Fiery Twat had been press-ganged into setting the trail this stormy summer evening and despite comments by Bookmaker and myself about her map-reading abilities went ahead and did a good ‘un (despite losing her place on the map within five minutes). She should start a club with Leanover and Coke Dealer: the ‘What’s a map for?’ Club.

 

Now, for sure we all have our proclivities and will defend the right of every hasher to be beaten, smothered in oil, have hot candle wax dripped onto their genitals and be abused as they so choose. To be nipple-clamped, walked on in stilettos, tied down,…..(need a pause for breath here)…..anyway you get the drift. But to bring in the Navy to do it for us?  That really is going a bit far. Still all our GM and embassy people were away so what the heck.

 

We had a detachment (or are detachments exclusively American?) from “HMS Illustrious HHH” in attendance and accordingly did our best Sunday run from Thission Station over Filipapou and around the big rock thingie. The RA had cooled the weather down a bit from the previous heat-wave so it was good running conditions – and Cockroach (who is probably the first in his family to be born without a tail) shot off at high speed in the wrong direction. We went up a few hills and round a few streets coming out at the top monument with great views of the greying skies – noticing that someone had left a light on in their ship down in Pireaus. Think of the electricity bill.

 

FT’s trail took us through the Plaka and back to Thission where we had to wait a bit for beer (our Beer Meister is fit by now isn’t he? Come on back Oxy.). It was about an hour of fairly decent running which suited us just fine.

   

We started our circle with a demonstration of bugling (buguling?) from The Dragon Machine which sounded like a wet fart – complete with follow through.

 

During the trail we had picked up a touring hasher – Peter (pr. Pee’der) from San Diego Hash. Upon interrogation in the circle he confessed that he had not actually run the hash but half marathon races that the Hash there had organised. [Sorry about the use of two obscenities there: ‘race’ and ‘organise’]. And so he was treated like the virgin he truly was. We had another virgin, Chris who was watered and humiliated, as is our way.

 

It was time to welcome our Royal Navy S+M instructors (By the way, heard about the dyslexic pervert? ...went into an S&M shop and bought a nice cardigan.).

 

Firstly the girls.

 

Step forward: ‘Furry Beast’ and ‘Semen Swallower’ (writing that down now perhaps it should be ‘Seamen  Swallower) who for some reason seemed a bit shy to speak her name, so we made her say it twice. Loudly. Semen Swallower must be the twin sister of ‘Cum Gargler’ that ADS keeps banging on about. Can’t remember if I asked about their favourite sex positions – but I’m sure they would have been kinky, assertive and dominant(need another pause…). We sang them the down-down song, the one about ‘getting back to the kitchen’, which we thought would go down well with professional military ladies.

 

There were a few latecomers (Coke Dealer of course) and the returned Pink Jenny. As a special treat, and since she has, shall we say ‘a bit of a thing’ for young men, we decided to address Pink Jenny as a ‘born again virgin’ – just so that she could tell these Sailor boys about her favourite sex position. Which she did; something called ‘missionary’. Never heard of it.

 

Bookmaker produced a thong from inside FT’s shorts and awarded it to Dragon Machine who tried to use it for dental flossing. Regular Athens hashers spotted this thong to be to be a plant* since we all know FT never wears knickers.                                     *(a bush?)

 

It was time to welcome the Sailor boys into the centre:

            Dragon Machine (again),         Cockroach (4th time)

            Butch Waller,                          Danny Kaye (that right?)

            Paddy O’Shea,                         Fresh Meat

            Swanny                                                Maxwell Bygraves

            Harley Ballbanger                    Dinger Bell (?)

            Nursey,                                    Silverfox

 

….who took their beers right Royal Navally except for Maxwell Bygraves who had to drink again for wearing his hat on his head. (MB has obvious depth, but only on the surface. Deep inside he is really shallow.)

 

We closed the circle with an announcement from Love Bug about her BBQ next hash. She looked a bit worried that she would be smothered by all the navy boys. (Should that be ‘she looked a bit excited that she would be smothered by all the navy boys?’). Our guests were keen to come again and it would be great to see them, so they said they would try to give their ship a puncture or something to delay its departure.

 

A version of ‘Swing Low Sweet Chariots’ somehow involving Dragon Machine’s buttocks wrapped things up and we went to the local Souvlaki joint for good cheap nosh and lots more booze.

 

During this we were presented with a book about HMS Illustrious signed by all the sailors. And a picture. Two pictures. All soon to be on our web site. One of them wrote (re-assuring  they can all write isn’t it?)  “To Fiery Twat my Aphrodite goddess”.  So he was pissed then.

 

In response to their generosity AH3 challenged their best man to a competitive down-down. Can’t remember the name of the Illustrious drinker, maybe Silverfox. Anyway he had to face our most formidable drinking physique: Heavy Breather.  Who would challenge a man of such obvious talents, clearly in serious training for this event? I wouldn’t for a kick off. Anyway Illustrious won leaving Heavy Breather ..er, ..gasping.

 

At the far end of the table our ‘Coke Dealer’ (normally diagonally parked in a parallel universe) was surrounded by sailors and was apparently enjoying herself, and seemed glad she had come. She had already had her customary whinge about the circle being too long (does she take cheese with her whine?).

 

Then, more beer was called for since one of our new harriettes said she would take on the navy girls (wouldn’t we all?). Step forward South African Olga. We had been taking the piss out of her most of the evening, about the fact that Olga can’t speak English right proper (like, her being a ‘yarpie’ and that) and she was a ‘Cambridge Oral Examiner’. At least that’s what I think she said.*

 

So it was head to head, Our currently un-named Olga versus Seamen Swallower. Could the reputation of AH3 be saved by this newcomer? Was SS already pissed? Had she already swallowed too much? No. It was a dead heat. Perhaps we could break the stalemate by having them mud-wrestle? Alas and woe, no mud. In a noble gesture of sportsmanship Seamen Swallower, impressed by Olga, proposed that she should be named, “Deep Throat”. It’s gestures like that that make me go all funny inside.

 

And thus passed another memorable evening with the Athens hash.

 

On On

Strawberry Foreskin

 

 

 

Next Sunday 9th JulyPreston and Athens Sam Smiths Shaggers HHH venue: Preston Guild Hall 10am.

 

Next Monday  10th July – Love Bug’s hash

 

A bit of intense flying and you could do both.

 

* Olga  -  ‘Oral Examiner’ ? (We already have a deep throat)