Run 887

Rapid's Gaff, Toddington

Monday, 4 August 2008

Hare: Rapid Withdrawal

HASHERS: 11  ANKLE BITERS: 1

The best thing about having a BBQ are the leftovers, and as I am sitting here munching a sausage sandwich (just a little mustard), it reminds me that I need to write some Wordz. So what did happen last night ? Well all the normal hashing stuff really...

It must have been the barmy warm summer weather (artistic license) which delayed the circle, or was it all the chatting? GorJoyce had a White Rabbit moment, locking her car and leaving the boot wide open, Private Parts duly took note. With no birthdays or anniversaries, it was down to the hare to point everybody in the right direction (the only direction!) and to set off on a tour of Toddington. And boy, did Count Roadkill like Toddington! Dragging his ball and chain, no, not Lady P - she was too busy chatting, he set off on a personal exploration of the village determined to travel down every path and to leave no stone unturned in his quest for flour.

A word of advice here for all Hashers, don't talk to PP. It simply is not worth it. As he glides around the hash, with pen and paper he takes every comment and twists it in his warped mind so that a simple exchange along the lines of "I'm Thirsty" with the response "I'm Friday" results in a down down of the most repulsive out of date beer I can ever recall drinking. Thanks Nik Nak.

But back to the plot. The trail headed through some fields in the direction of Milton Bryan and then turned immediately back into Toddington towards the School. At this point Shagpile located a T and sagely announced that he knew the way back, until it was pointed out he had already found it on the way out. Past the School and the Church, again heading away from the village. Donut was already commenting that it was looking like a long run. At this point Count Roadkill, Nik Nak and PP went off on a private hash whilst the rest of us followed the flour through to the village green. Still more moaning from Donut as we again turned away from the start, but we were approaching the return section, crossing the main road and returning through a network of paths between the houses. The hash had split in two by this stage and I had to lay a few arrows to point the way.

Back at the house Mrs Rapid Withdrawal had the BBQ in full swing and helped by Phil (not such a rapid withdrawal) glasses were filled. The GM called the circle and PP attempted to poison selected people with his beverages. Awards were made for too much chatting in a WI style, and for daring to talk to the RA (no I'm not bitter...). I managed to produce a new award from my dustbin in the shape of a golden plunger (it appeared in the boot of my car after my wife had been out for a night. Why? How? Answers on a postcard please). Forking Dickchair was awarded the good crack award, simply because I thought it would be a laugh to see him carrying it all the way on run 888.

So the warm up event is over, the tour of South Beds complete. Now it is time for run 888, eight hundred and eighty seven runs in the making.

On On to God (or at least the GM) knows where.

Rapid Withdrawal (who has nowt to complain about: PP could easily have done him for mincing in a built up area - see photo above)