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RUN REPORTS 2011(See Hash History Page for Years 2010 and previous years)
RUN NO: 1194 – Not Entrerrios
HARE: TightArse MARK: Hash Shit
Tightarse had a shit hill to climb after sending a third of the pack to Entreios, by stating in the directions to the circle NOT to go to Entreios ! Funny chaps these women especially if you have “I know everything,” moan moan moan UYB as your navigator. Poor Sucka cocka must have been close to slitting her wrists as F- Norris and I few by them near Entreios, obviously lost! This was my route using the not so Perfect directions to the circle to the long straight over the hills on the new road to Coin. I knew where I was going as did all the other Hashers already at the circle next to the 4km sign, opposite a sign to loma de los Matonzas. (No mention of Entreios). Funny why Mr Arse had failed to use this obvious and logical method of directing his flock to the start, was this a sign of things to come? Just say when had sailed passed and on to Entreios and the normally incomprehensible Swiss Roll when she finally arrived after her de-tour was clear in her pronunciation of Entreios! Not a happy Roll. Tightarse didn’t look at all bothered, he had used 16 bags of flour to lay the trail, brought us 150 cans of Mahau, all that was needed for a good hash. Or so he thought, as what was to unfold would tarnish his standing as a veteran of 150 runs.
He had laid a trail Flakey would rate a 9+ and found the elusive Ball Buster only Daffa could dream about, but he had raised the bar and tried to kill us all! Virgins, children, pregnant women, Filipinos and returnees in their droves led to the slaughter. Cloggdancer ripped into it with all the enthusiasm of a prop forward debut at Twickenham, unfortunately the campo ripped into him and everyone else in the pack as we struggled to find a foothold on the treacherous trail that only a monkey would feel happy with. Most slipped tripped and fell at some point or another as we struggled to find the elusive trail. “ARE YOU” could be heard calling from every gully, thorn bush and riverbed, Oh what a mess it was!
Everyone cursing Tightarse as we floundered like lost sheep, short cutting became rife as we battered between CB and Fs and keeping an eye on those FRBs struggling ahead. Jisical Furk and Big Mack frustrated at the lack of space to stretch their legs, had found the on in by doing just that! How we kept going and dragged everyone in the general direction to the Beer stop is a miracle. It was the thought of Mahou that kept most of us alive. “You deserve a medal for this” was my greeting to our unflappable Hare still sucking on his cigarette, and showing no sign of remorse for his stroll in the park, that was drawing more moans and groans as all the stragglers finally arrived. Most looking as though they had been dragged through a hedge backwards, but then most of them had! I had blood running from cuts to my arms, my knees scuffed and thorns embedded in my wrist, this wasn’t a normal Hash, this had children crying and grown hashers close to tears. I don’t know what Park Tightarse played in as a kid? This stroll was in an adventure park on steroids, all we needed was live ammunition and smoke bombs and we could have been in an SAS training ground. More slips trips and falls, some scary moments, but no fatalities or premature births as we all eventually made it back to the circle. The look on the tail end Charlie’s said it all, HASH SHIT!
Elephant Arse would be still out there now if he had turned up, the ants and buzzards feasting on his carcass “ you go ahead Yogi, this ones a bit tough for me”. That would have been my last recollection of him. He must have known it would be shit, a Hashers intuition!
On to the circle and the inevitable penance for our hard working Hare. F-Norris was also intuitive by wearing a Hash Shit Tee Shirt, how fitting was that! It was slowly sinking in to our Hare that his fate was sealed. Hobble Gobble and Streaky, looking like a pair of pensioners at the seaside in their deck chairs were unanimous in their proclamation of HASH SHIT. Poor Sweet and Low, an early casualty was bound to go the same way; the rot had set in as the hapless Hare awaited his fate. Mummy’s boy feeling a Shit weight lift from his shoulders after every vote was cast. Not even a few masochistic votes from the lovers of pain could stop the slide into very shiggy territory, his only saving grace being the stand in RA Septic Scrotum, only punished him with a double Bear size sleeve and ice for his dastardly sin. Colonic would have induced more irrigation and humiliation with ice on a Titanic scale! Tightarse you were lucky but now the proud custodian of Hash Shit!
Wear your seat with pride, you eared it.
The On On was an example of what Big Macs failed promise of a BBQ should have been.
Enough Salad to feed a goat for a week.
More Chips than you could dream of.
And Meat enough to choke a Donkey!
The doggy bags would keep a Moroccan family for a month !
This was a remote venta by the Rio that floods in the winter rain. I was cut off for three days when staying with Yorkshire Gripper when he rented a Finca close by. A Good choice, and a great on on.
RUN NO: 1193 – between Barranco Blanco & Coin Film Studios
HARE: Big Mac
MARK: 7.8 ANNIVERSARIOS: 3!
Thirty Five regular Hashers made it to this familiar territory on a glorious Sunday afternoon. Promises of home made tomato soup, barbecued meats and lemon meringue pie at the Boma – an “African Style Restaurant” had the majority (26) drooling and eager for the ON ON.
After the usual preamble and warnings about procession caterpillars (not that any dogs were running), the pack set off along a trail and into the pine woods. Fantastic views were promised and sure enough the trail began to climb. A check- back heading towards a wonderful viewpoint had the GM and Just Say When separated from the rest of the pack. Back 50m or so the GM checked out a possible route only to find fresh flower going nowhere, what was that about and more delay. Eventually reaching a check the pack could be seen in the distance, wondering aimlessly. A few more trails to check and yes onto the trail, but nobody was following the two of them. ON UP to a peak of 444m and indeed fantastic views overlooking the depths of Charco’s Hell (Infierno) and the white ravine. On further and eventually some stragglers were picked up and it became evident that the main pack had guessed where the trail was headed and took a massive short cut. Eventually the pack re-grouped at the beer stop, in the woods, only a kilometer from the start, Evidently the Religious Advisor had some divine intervention or has been secretly practicing for the Marathon at the London Olympics, as he arrived half an hour before anybody else.
The second half was on the relatively flat plane, North of the Coin – Mijas road.
The circle formed and the Anniversarios took their DOWN DOWN’S, marks were awarded for the run. A jolly good effort and a genuine 7.8 awarded. The GM asked Just Say When to join him for a glass of wine for being morally superior to every other short cutting bastard. The RA (COLONIC – name and shame) was brought in to represent all the short cutters and explain how he had managed to out short cut the short cutters by so much. It turned out that he had been able to download a detailed Celestial Map, no doubt courtesy of Google Earth, which some bright Hare had posted on facebook,
Facebook! spit, spit, yes the dreaded facebook. The RA then called in all fellow users (the majority of Hashers!) of the damnedable service, spit, spit to be punished. Rightly so!! A correct response indeed.
Whilst punishing the morally repugnant, the Religious Advisor had all those that had ever had anything to do with the even more dreaded TIMESHARE in for punishment. An even larger group of Hashers stepped forth!!
Time for a Christening. Carlos and Radio Caca had been all lovey dovey all afternoon, but had he done the dreaded deed? NOT YET suggested the RA. I doubt it, but it’s a good name for a Hasher anyway – have you ever………..,no Not Yet, kneel NOT YET.
One good Christening, deserves another. Michael the Russian Timeshare Ogliarch aka Mick the Mouth or some such had done 6 runs and not been Christened. What should we call him, Bollock Chops did we hear. Yes, Hobble Gobble is back and still trying to get rid of that name and indeed Mick’s favourite food is lamb chops – kneel BOLLOCK CHOPS. Well done Hobble.
Talking of Bollocks, the RA called all those that had anything to do with bollocks or other organs or parts (male, female or other) that had anything to do with sex in all its forms – enter the entire Hash bar one or two goody goody’s.
Finally the circle drew to a close with much anticipation of a good old Braai at the Boma.
Oops, the soup was possibly leek and potato, but hard to tell. Lemon Merangue pie became some rather hard and unripe strawberries and the piece de resistance, the barbecued meats was some rather thick, overcooked slices of roast beef, swamped in gravy and both as cold as the bed of lettuce and cherry tomatoes they were served on. Strong English Cheddar requested by fussy old me and lucky Willy Wanker, hee hee and didn’t the non-existing dogs enjoy the swamped beef.
Much assistance given by Mummy’s Boy with his new and shorter haircut at the response of your numerous comments.
Love Veuve x
Run Number 1192 - Sunday 3rd April
It was a typical rainy April day in the countryside … few hashes arrived in Coin.
Mummy´s Boy, Big Mac, Fuck Norris, Yogy, Mindy, Elephant Arse, Willy Wanka, Willy Warmer, Septic Scrotum with Lucky Lucky Man, Just Say When, Rusty Twat, Wooden Twat, three guys with no hash names and your scribe Scribe, Swiss Roll were there.
The run started and we happily ran until the first check. There were so many trails to explore, a maze, we couldn’t find any marking. Then Kindergarten arrived in his Panda to show us the way. This made Yogy a happy man since he was now a front running bastard.
In the rain we ran through WET, WET, WET grass, across cracks on the ground, jumping like graceful gazelles, breathing the fresh air of the glorious countryside and admiring the great variety of flowers.
Big Mac and Just Say When were way at the front when we arrived at the BS on a hilltop with great views of Coin surrounded by the Sierras Prieta, Chica and Torrecilla.
The second half was unfortunate for me because I tripped over a stone and fell on my left arm and my right knee, preventing me from enjoying the end of the run.
The circle was under the arches of a shopping avenue, due of the rain. Mummy´s Boy was GM and Septic Scrotum did an excellent job as stand in RA. A score of 7.8 was awarded for the Run.
As it was Mothers Day, mothers are called to the centre and Mummy´s Boy joined the three mum´s drinking white wine instead of beer.
The On On was at Leslies restaurant in Coin, I couldn't goo because my cat was waiting for me at home, in the Coast.
Run Number 1191 - Sunday 27th March
Hares: Up yer bum and Yogi
Run Number 1190 - Sunday 20th March
Hares: Physical Jerk
The scribe allocated at this fine Hash was Miss Finish foot fetish in the green clogs, but as we are all aware that “Sucka cocka” is very good at letting someone else do things on her behalf. Could it be the Scandinavian way or is it true she is unable to write in English? We will never know as I have been recruited to fill her green shoes. (Why are men seduced by a nice smile and a plea of hopelessness, the age of chivalry is not dead and we step up to the challenge)
So here we go.
De plodde plojar dajanka furganja kuhkerga Helsinki uusikaupuki nykoping gotland battvik forssa malung jarvenpau stockholm asedahardangervidda oslo harmina kotka espoo Gadafi Fukushima bolakoes
Enough of that hoody hargan !
This was an Irish hash so lets start again.
Arre beggorra bergervies whet a dai it wes, heshers renning, warkin en drenkin beir.
Wet els es they t sey.
Feck eff em nit frem Ieerlend
Scer ef 9.1 en fur Fesical Jark hes farst hesh
the evergreen bear