The

Burro Hash

Home    Hare line     Contact List    Hash History    Links  Run Reports 2011   Jokes     Email us

RUN REPORTS 2012 (1260-1270)(See Hash History Page for Years 2010 and previous years)

Run 1270 - THE SHAKEN BUT NOT STIRRED RUN” (16/09/12)

Asked again to do the donkey sheet while in the middle of exams and enrollments, I will just have to delegate it to whoever is available, like last week, sorry.

Here's one bit:Hey dude, hang loose, you are not the only one who's busy you know! As soon as I remember anything about that far-out happening last Friday I 'll write it down, you dig? Don't you know that famous phrase from the Sixties? “If you can remember the 60-ies, you weren't there”. So there! Always asking me to get like, active, you know. Sometimes you're just like that uncool guy I used to share a flat with, many years ago. Er.. Vivian something or other.
Oh, yeah, it's all coming back now, in a haze. Must have been all these Superman tabs we were downing at the time. Yeah, I remember now: there was loads of water and smoke, just like that year we went to see Zappa at Montreux and all my stash got burned at the hotel... remember that? Only this time, there were people walking on the water, right across the swimming pool! Talking about getting stoned, this was some trip, man! And there was all this love; love and unity and understanding. Well, not everyone was digging what was going on. There was this old freak standing around with a mike in his hand, looking totally lost and not even singing, man. Said something about “Aphrodisiacs”, but any woman would need to down 3 litres of Spanish fly before even noticing this rag bag. Some dude called “Gastric Infection” started the evening looking like a Beatle, but ended up like Elvis. ... Apparently he had to go after his gal “Gangbang”, who had taken the Magic Bus to the Sixties, got hammered on vodka and missed her stop, finding herself at the end of the line in the Fifties.....Anyway, most people were really with it, really digging the scene, you know. I didn't quite get what I expected when you invited me to a “Hash Party”, but, at the end of the evening, some 3 tabs, 2 joints and 5 Pacharans later, I felt so united with the Universe, so Cosmic, that when the waiter asked me what I wanted in my salad, I said “just make me One with everything, man!”

Right, I gotta split now, so peace out brothers and sisters!

Cosmic Love from Neil

And here's another:

Wa' a ruv dat wuz! Ay dead enjoyed it; juss about everyone wanted ter bang me tamboine and all! But all sound as a pound things come ter an end, so a little afti 12.00 ay found myself driv'n de owd pumpkin back ter me gaff in order ter get some kip and dun get up all bright and early ter set sunday's run. This proved more difficult than ay thought: de jam jar wuz chocker o' cewlers and virgin's piddle and it wuz a blind bit o' a struggle ter bowl uphill terwards mijas. Next th'n ye nah, de jam jar completely stopped! Now, ay kun wa' most readers wul think: “she's a blonde and she forgot ter fill up de jam jar..!” Bright, ay did forget ter fill up de jam jar, but not because ay am a blonde! It's juss dat whun yer from der pewl yer not used ter fill'n up. Yous juss nick yer next jam jar whun dat 'appens. Anyway, me and me passenger “Not Yet” got outi de jam jar and as we walked down de brew ay kept think'n ay 'ad forgottun firkin before gett'n out, but it juss wuddun come ter me. Ay 'ad adjusted me warpaint, pulled down me skirt, pulled up me knickers, put onna blind bit more spray in all de rite places, so wa' wuz it? Dun it deck me! De jam jar, dat is, roll'n down de brew and giv'n it me 'ard from behind. In fact, both not yet and myself wuz knocked down by de jam jar dewrs and wuz ly'n thuz stunned while de jam jar passed over us and trundled down de brew terwards a large oak-tree. Me skint pumpkin, me skint butt! Still de werse fe wear, ay got up de next dee and 'ewked up wi' de uvver bond bird in order ter set this marvelous run we 'ad promised. Apart from one er two miner 'iccups – at one stage “pussy” terld me ter corky and chalk downhill and wait fe 'er at de end, which is wa' ay did. Ay dun kun why she wuz upset whun we she finally found me ed de beach, whuz de brew ended - we 'ad gaffer fun do'n dat and ay think dat most 'ashers wuz made-up wi' de result as dee guv us a 8.9 fe us efforts! it wuz a gaffer dee!

Kisses from “Wanted” (is dat 'ow yous spell it, Justine?)

And last, but not least:

I'm terribly sorry but you, one's old bean, aaare asking myself to write about one's own leg it and that is indoumitably not allowed, as you, one's old bean, well knoh. I might be blond, but one is not dumb! Actually, come to think of it one is not hairlairh blond eithah....
Soh, one will fie chinwag about the usual miscreants, anniversaaaries, etc. without going intoh any details of that maaarvelous deay out in the country side, where we had luverly pink maaartinis served by classy nubile waitresses, enjoyed the dishy views of the mediteranean seah and were invited to paaartake in some light and healthy exercise. Obviously, as one is one of the few hashers with ah public schoohl back-ground, one imagine that some of the more vulgaaar hashers (i.e. most of them really) might have some difficulties with the weay one express one's self, but you, one's old bean, can't win them all, can you, one's old bean,?
Anniversaaaries:
“sticky taaart” 55 runs, “aphrodisiac” 165, “jizzical ferk” 90, “mindy” 170, “pussy galore” 95, “uncle fester” 55 and “wide open” 40. Jolly spiffing shoh, noh mustah ah life!

Visitors: “must bang judy” from the humping hash in San Diego

Awaaards: “gilf” had the honour of being the first one to receive the “Thrush Awaaard”. This awaaard will be passed ohn to anyone piddling ohn the trail due to infections, excess drinking, or whatevah.

Quote of the week: “spermaid” was overheaaard saying “in asiah, when they aaare small, they aaare hairlairh small...” with hah having lived there for decades one would guess that hah observatiohn most certainly has ah scientific basis to it.

Idiot of the week: this must popp 'round to “colonic” for missing out terribly. He was phoned by “must bang” (whoh, one believe is not related to “gang bang”), whoh wanted to “hoohk up” with some mijas hashers. He immediately invited hah to his palatial residence, mumbling something about “we could have ah bite to eat and then see what comes up”, to which she acquised. He then sent “gang bang” orf with Elvis and his Visah Gold Caaard and staaarted to prepaaare for what was noh equivocatiohn going to be something akin to the famous “summah of love” ('69, one think it was) all condensed intoh one afternoohhn. Curtains drawn, candles lit, soft music, etc. and then he waited, and waited. Twoh hours latah, she phoned him beck and said: “there was noh restaurant at the street numbah you, one's old bean, gave myself!” By the time he had explained that he had actually invited hah to his own abode, not to ah restaurant, Gang Bang had returned, his bank managah had already sent ah couriah with ah “customah of the month” plaque and Elvis had staaarted eating the candles... toohh late old boy.

Well, that's all for noh. one hope you, one's old bean, liked one's brief report of last sunday's events. one thought it all went swimmingly, one's self.

On On Jolly Hockeysticks from Pussy Calore

 

RUN number 1269 - 9th Sept 2012 - Justin Birthday Run

Hares: JustIn and Kremlin. Location: Rancho de la Paz

Arriving early at the run site, we were awaiting the return of what turned out to be two exhausted hares JustIn and Kremlin. After a couple of liters of water, they were able to share their frustrations of having been out for 3 hours in the heat of the day. They tried to convince us that there were absolutely no worries for the Hashers though, because they had been caught so many times in ??. Well a good 20 committed Hashers took off on the dusty road, and it was very easy going all the surprising short way to the Drink Stop. The road back home was one that even I know by heart… But I thoroughly enjoyed this easy start at being back Hashing in Spain.

The circle got underway in a partly shaded area, fortunately! Open Up was Hash Mattress and managed to keep us all interested and lubricated. There was quite a number of Anniversarios as follows:

BigMac: 135 – Crystal Tits: 25 – JustIn: 40 – Toxic Bollox: 60 – Uncle Fester: 55 – Sticky Tart: 55 – Won Tit: 45 and finally Doggy Style: 15.

El Cid was our RA and he used the system of passing the ball, which provided excellent entertainment for all – you charge somebody and then that person needs to charge somebody else…

Ginger Minge had his usual gang of friends visiting from the UK, and we were all to witness the skimpy outfit of one of them. Sorry guys I don’t have his name, but he is the Big Police Guy with the Polynesian tattoos. He’s getting married later this month and had his gear ready: a long neon green thing which was hard to put on, it turned out, because it all just looked like long strings!! Just use your imagination, if you weren’t there. Open Up had a fit and the rest of us girls standing around him tried to look the other way!

Ginger Minge told us, that his marrying friend had a slight problem, as he still needed to tell his wife-to-be about his tattoos.

At the OnOnOn this husband-to-be told me the story about his elaborate tattoos, and it was an interesting one of Polynesian origin.

OnOnOn in the nice Italian Restaurant not far from the run site was enjoyed by us all.

OnOnOn

SpermAid

 

RUN number 1268 - 2nd Sept 2012 - Back to skool Run

Back to Skool Run Report

Talking about edjukasjion, at skool I learnt the glorious language of the Sovjet Roosian Republic, not the decadent gibberish of the crumbling Anglo-Saxon Imperialist Capitalist Empire. So, if I make any wrongs in this report, I don't kare!

What I did learn at skul, though, wur things like Geography, Physics, etc. and this run wud not have been allowed by my teachers at the “Moskba Sovjet Institutski for Bery Naice Girlskies”. This run went UP, ol the way to the beer stop/tuck shop and then went UP again, all the way to the kar park... My former Art teacher, Olga Mnoga Picasokova, showed us sum piktjures of a crazy Dutch artist, one dei. His neim was Escher and in this piktjure there wur piple walking up sum stairs and cumming bak to the seim place ol the taim! The only diference wuz that the distance on the piktjure was less than ten metres and the run was more than 10 kilometers...
 
It was obvious that the Hairs wanted to teik revenge for the fact that their last attempt at a run in this area was totally washed out. Mommies Boi and Waid Open had done their best to give everywone thier money's worf. They had lots of little tricks up thier sleeves. Let's take them over an Indiana Jones bridge, where Radio Kaka nearly did her name honour, and then through the same (drai) river bed underneath the same bridge again. The only thing missing were the boulders coming down the hill. And what about the  hidden CB? Just In and Big Mac did a complete tour around Estepona before they realized they wur not following flower (like after 5k)... and had to come back...In fact, nowone found the HCB (hidden check back) except Yurinator, my sun. But I decided that no, it wasn't a HCB, it was probably a BS, he said yes it was a B, but certainly also a C! it was a CB mom! - Is anybody still reading this?? - It also helps if the Hair is standing behaind a tree, unwittingly indicating the beer stop.

Let's not forget one of the most interesting part of the curcle: the spanking! you dirty minds...it was not only me who read 50 Shades! Unfortjunately no major misbehaviour, so it was a vanilla spanking, even though we had canes growing ol around! Oh, those school days... the R.A. pointed out that we don't appreciate meni things during our skul days, such as being spanked by a middle-aged lady. Stuff you pei good moni for in later life.

Well, enuf of that. I will now Czech wif mai boifrend Just Inn, who is sum kind of teachje and sez be knows a lot about Inglish, to see if I meid eni wrongs.
 
He sez it's Ol Korrekt! So, I kan send it tu yu now; happi reading!

On on,

In The K ßemlin

 

 

RUN number 1267 - 26th August 2012

Twenty something hashers and hangers on assembled under the heat of the midday sun at the back of the Hotel Mijas. It was quickly made apparent that the run time had more to do with football screening times and less to do with ideal temperature/optimum charity collecting. Red dresses were in evidence but far too modest in my view.

Toxic bollocks, having failed to describe the markings to the virgins, gave way to a very school marmy co-hare Doggy Style.  A pair of new shoes were spotted and wetted.  The collection was for breast cancer charity. Two well endowed ladies sported collecting tins and were hopeful of relieving locals and holidaymakers alike of their cash as we hashers thrashed about. 

Then it was off up and down steps and along cobbled streets and out into the campo where the first of many beer (cava actually) stops was encountered. The trail then took us back into town for an unexpected chocolate stop at Mayan Monkey, owned by erstwhile hasher Mountie. Choccy willies and boobies were devoured. Some harriettes lingered far too long over this in my view. Then more twists and turns ensued through the narrow streets of Mijas and a swift succession of beer and tapa stops and much pointing and staring. The FRBs managed to miss the last such stop and were summoned back.

The circle was a protracted affair after the quantity of alcoholic beverages consumed by some of the hashers. Breasts featured a great deal.  Most memorably Big Mac was elected as having the best legs.

The run was not insignificant at some 6km. No doubt thousands of euros were raised for the deserving cause.

Big Mac departed (with the GMs permission) before the circle ended so his account must stop here. The photos suggest that there was an on on and more alcohol was imbibed.

Best Regards/Saludos

Mike Mackie

 

RUN number 1266 - 17th August 2012

 

RUN number 1265 - 10th August 2012

http://www.endomondo.com/workouts/80792944  is the trail stats and map of the run.

The hash is a drinking club with a running problem. Yesterday´s hares, birthday boys, 5 Mil and Colonic Irrigation, conspired to set a mountainous trail at the height of the noon day sun, on possibly the hottest day this year if not since records began and in open countryside without so much as a tree branch to shelter beneath. The result was of course a near massacre with half the pack making a u-turn even before reaching the beer stop, some 500m above sea level and two of our more delicate and fragrant hashers, Up yer Bum and Sweet and Low succumbing to heat exhaustion and having to be given mouth to mouth resuscitation by Clog Dancer, a certified first aider and part time gynaecologist. The rest of the pack staggered to the summit and collapsed in a heap. The sole tree under which the beer stop had been sited was an attractive option for a lynching. Even our seasoned hasher, Streaky, was a no-show at the beer stop and she spared us the distraction of the two rather pretty teenage (?) Danish virgins (oxymoron?). Still, the sight of a slightly overheated Gangbang, moreover declining alcohol in favour of water, made up for this. The birthday cake can best be described as a squishy mess in the >40 degree temperature.

The heroic hashers who made it to the beer stop recovered after copious infusions of tinto verano and other stimulants before summoning up the courage for the second half which was a precipitous downhill plunge. With vultures circling overhead and Helicopteros Sanitarios on standby the intrepid hashers made it back to base camp one by one. We counted them in but one hasher was missing. Reports from the front line confirmed that Up yer Bum was a casualty and Big Mac set off in his field ambulance to collect her.

Search parties were despatched to look for shade for the circle but returned without finding any in a 100m radius. Umbrellas were commandeered and eventually the circle got underway. Stiff Fanny invited the customary comments on and scoring of the run. It would be fair to say that opinion was divided with several hash shits and scores sub 3 from the fairer sex while the macho men enjoyed their self flagellation. Ice would have been too good for the hares but in the prevailing temperatures would not have retained its solid form for more than a few minutes. Flakey was deputed as RA and meted out appropriate punishments. The down down beer was like warm tea only not as good tasting.

The circle disbanded and those that still had energy, appetite and willing descended on the Sol y Sombra for lunch. As I was in none of the above categories I went home and continued imbibing water and rehydration salts throughout the day and into the night.

The hares reinvented the hash as a running club with a death wish problem.

On-on

Big Mac

RUN number 1264 - 3rd August 2012

Things got off to a bad start at the Full Moon Run on Friday night as around 20 hashers were greeted with warm beer – never a good start! The male hashers were then presented with false arses in full “mooning” spirit by our GM Stiffany (who´s own posterior was notably larger than before she left for Thailand!).  The exposed bottoms served great delights to some tourists in the area.

With the present crisis being worse than ever, flour is obviously too hard to get hold of at present or clearly just too heavy to carry! We stumbled upon a false trail and checked back but could not find any more markings.  Screaming  loudly “Are You?” was to no avail, the only option was to set off in search of flour.  I am one of the group who could not possibly comment on the first half as ours became a lengthy trudge around a housing estate with no view point to speak of.  This however was apparently the fault of the restaurant staff for “sweeping up the flour”.  They too are in a crisis and must have needed it to make the bread rolls! 

After completely giving up and heading back to the cars we accidently staggered upon the beer stop and we were kindly given 3 whole minutes to drink a lovely glass of welcome cava before being sent off for the second half.  Being that we were not one of the 3 people to complete the second half, We cannot comment on this either. It seemed to be quite lengthy though as we had some good drinking time whilst waiting on the remaining runners, which is always a good thing!

Back at the cars, the hares redeemed some credit by cleverly bribing us with some rather tasty homemade Mojito and Sangria which obviously help to increase their run score! Fun was had by all in the circle as Dipper announced a christening (which raised the eyebrows of the hares as we all new at this point there was no flour!). Improvisation was used in the form of crisps and from now on Chris the Chef will be formally known as Gordon Rams Me!

After the circle we headed down to enjoy the full moon on the beach with a picnic. This was a highlight of the hash as we did not get lost on the way there!

Run Score: 7.5?

On On

Scribes: Toxic Bollox and Doggy Style

RUN number 1263 - 29th July 2012

·      The Monda mismanagement run, mis-hared by Just in Case and MissKremlin

The day of the run dawned bright and clear. First job, polish the specs and pore over a map of Spain looking for the Z355, somewhere around Andalucia, to understand the cryptic directions.  No mention of Monda, which was surprising given that this turned out to be the run zone -- perhaps the hares had never heard of it?

 Okay, so we eventually find the place and desperately search for the FFCP, the only coherent element of the instructions. Yeah, right! Half the pack up by the cemetery, others mystically at a picnic site, frantic phone calls, no sign of flour or hares; but eventually they appeared, complaining about how time-consuming it is to set a hash, buy the beer, arrange the, er, picnic, and build all this into a hectic social calendar, running on rival hashes, and so forth.

But what the heck, at least they’d brought beer and crisps, and what a beautiful day..

 

So the pack, or most of it, set off from the picnic ground. Golden Balls (my, how he’s grown, I remember when he was just a spot of, yes, well never mind that, I digress), Golden Balls, as I say, lingered behind, clearly overcome with youthful lack of enthusiasm, then claimed to have lost the pack at the first check, so returned to drink more beer. One of Wide Open’s visitors was scarcely more successful: at the first sign of a hillside she backtracked to the cars. Wise move, as it turned out, since the trail led upward and ever upward, through forest and tree break, on up and up through the scorching midday heat.

Why, the heat was such that Your Scribe found Doggy Style prostitute, sorry, Freudian slip, wonder why I thought of that,  prostrate upon the track, floppy and vulnerable through heat exhaustion, lying legs akimbo right there in the dirt, her skirt riding up round her thighs, just a glimpse of etc etc. He was on the verge of  administering  profound succour when unfortunately she regained consciousness, so he ignored her and carried nonchalantly on past, worried, naturally, that she might espy his engorged succour.

Then instead of taking the usual (usual here being employed in the sense of “well-recce-ed”) route to the crest, and along and down the ridge (a very scenic and beautiful alternative), the trail branched back down a scrubby-arsed gulley to the right; whose principal merit was that the pack, being by this time well-spread (decimated, actually) from the climb was able largely to reunite through judicious shortcutting.

And of course it led us eventually in dribs and drabs to another picnic platz where refreshments were munificently served, and gratefully received.

A modest run in took us back to the start where Your Scribe entertained the pack to a breathtakingly erudite and witty Circle, redeemed it of its manifold sins (as well as those of its carburettor), then legged it tout de suite to have a slap up nosh at Mrs Miggins’ Pie Shoppe. Sadly, therefore, he is unable to recount who had what fishpaste in their sarnies, though he believes to this very day that a Good Time was had by All, so help him God.

Amen.

YOUR HUMBLE SCRIBE, and ARCHEST OF ARCHDICKINS,  DIPPER

PS  I seem to recall the Hares receiving a standing ovulation (from Wide Open) and 8.5 for the run. A sterling effort (for two foreigners). DIPS

 

 

RUN number 1262 - 22nd July 2012 - Hares - Jizzical & Issy in


 

RUN number 1261 - 15th July 2012 - Hares - Half the hash (Colonic,Elvis,etc)!

10.30 am 15th July, 2012

Excellent Hash circle location: Where ?

At the arse-end of the car park, over the smelly Fuengirola river, in the shadow of the N340 bridge. It could only get better !

The Elvis Theme, either fell a bit flat as, with the exception on Colonic, Band Aid, Ginger Minge (and El Cid) and of course Elvis who came as himself, either no one else rose to the occasion, or their interpretation of the theme was so subtle that it passed me by !

Nevertheless, the day was great for a run, starting off rather overcast and thus a little cooler than the 35ºC of recent days on the CDS.

No GM and no RA, so improvise. El Cid was volunteered to be GM and all runners were ‘invited’ to cover for RA, in that all were ordered to pick on their fellow hashers and reveal the worst sins they were to commit on the run.

So off went the live hare, Colonic, minus his Elvis suit and wig, giving us the chance to scheme how we would cheat to catch him. After a good 7 minutes (not 10 as insisted upon by the hare) it was full charge on white arrows, Passed the delightfully charming subsidised gypsy housing, into Plaza Hispaniola, on past the salubrious homes of Stitched up and Bjorn, then holiday home of Ginger and Band Aid, and On On up this road down that, past the bus station, town hall, zoo, bull ring. A little confusing Big Mac passed the pack on his way to a more pressing lunch function (Ice the ….) and finally to the ‘CCS’ (Cake and Champers stop). Behind the kids playground at the west- end of the town.

Following a vote, “Was it to be the intended unbelievable incredible course sussed out by Colonic or a short cut to the Champers Stop ?” No contest of course, on blue arrows, straight to the next ‘CS’ (Champers Stop)

The circle finally gathered. The run was awarded a strong 9, three anniversaries were celebrated (ops! Forgotten who they were, but Seaman Stains pics will reveal all) and then everyone enjoyed calling in their best friends and grassing them up for sins committed. Tweetski Pie called in Putitin, intending she should be iced, but it ‘backfired’ with Tweetski going on ice.

One Tit, Aphrodisiac, CradleSnatcher, Streaky, Izzical & Issy, and Up Ya Bum amongst others, also suffered cleansing.

2 pm arrived, the circle closed and it was off to a sumptuous meal and great wine.

Thanks hares (and Elvis) great run.

( PS, I promised not to mention that Colonic got nicked, not only by the Local Police but the National Police as well, for making obscene ‘ON - IN’ signs on the Paseo Marítimo).

On-On. El Cid.

 

RUN number 1260 - 8th July 2012 - Hares - Tweetski Pie/Putitin

Running late after a heavy Mijas Blues session took its toll, One Tit our driver getting a little lost, and having a blond moment trying to find Toxic Bollocks gaff. That was the excuse we gave for arriving at the circle 10mins late, but I was the one charged with producing the run report. A good choice as Sweet & Low had to remind me later on I was drinking unpaid beer, the Blues and lack of sleep was getting me into bother.

Back to the run set by Twitskypie in familiar ground in the hills of Torrablanca.  Off we went and within minutes we are lost, a short cut, one check back and a mindless wander along a lane with no markings and we found ourselves asking a group of horse riders if they had seen any people like us? The direction we followed led us to Justin, shirt around his head and jogging along without a care in the world, who was the more surprised or confused? An FRB way off trail and a group of lost souls following fresh air! No more shredded paper or flour to follow, just Justin wandering over the hills on what turned out to be a shortcut in trail. We tried to call him back after getting a sniff of beer, Toxic was getting desperate for a recharge and we sensed the beer stop was near by, it was well hidden and a welcome site and all the other hashers following the real trail had arrived. Pancakes and snacks washed down with cold beer resuscitated us and even Justin with a nice scab on his nose decided to join us for refreshments. The on in was the way Justin had been so an easy a short trail for some of us, a long and arduous trail for others. Hash trails are always different and this was no exception with the circle score being a good 9.

Anniversaries receiving down downs included

Canute in a higher than high viz shirt at 40

Li lo lil in a off the shoulder boulder holder number at 90.

Streaky topping the poll with a life changing 240

Justin was crossed out at 35 so this could be a misprint.

 

Sargent Mustaffa Moon from the Moroccan undercover immigration police had been sent to question Twiskypie on allegations of possession of an illegal forged passport. This was obviously denied by our fine upstanding pillar of the local community, and after receiving a customary Down down the case was dropped with no further investigations necessary.  Sargent Moon continued to administer down downs to various hashers for their silliness or good deeds that warrant recognition.  The cause of Justin’s nose injury was still a mystery, even after questioning In the Kremlin, another closed case for Mustaffa. He did however manage to carry out his first christening, on the shapely freckly form of Seaman Stains merry side kick Andrea. Roger the cabin boy, or girl had been suggested by our GM, but the two prominent features that endow Miss Andrea, was inevitably going to have influence over her chosen name. One being the aforementioned freckly complexion, the other being the inflated May West she keeps in her blouse.

Twin Peaks was suggested and put to the vote along with Melanoma, the subtler of the two wining the popular vote. The spelling of which I am sure will be hashed into Melons-noma, Melonoma or whatever. A good naming with ample use of flour and beer.

The On On was Fish Chips and mushy peas, with soup wine and tip for only $9. Twiskypie had worked his magic on the owner for a great Hash deal, A roast dinner was also available. I slipped in a pint of beer for $1.70. Seaman and Melonoma like me enjoyed our fried fish and compared the price to Porto Banus, where you would be lucky to get the soup for the same price. I even got a lift back to Mijas with Seaman at the helm, what a great bunch of people, now I only had to find One tit as I had left my keys and gear in her car. I said the blues night had taken its toll, this could still turn out to be a bad ending. I was dropped at Aphrodisiacs house and they were watching the Wimbledon men’s final, Cradlesnacher contacted One Tit and I left with Andy one set up, now that’s another story and so was the rest of the afternoon. Blues what Blues festival!