Hare:
Fiery Twat
Venue:
Thission Station
Other than attending a
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
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
Strawberry Foreskin
Next Sunday 9th July –
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)