Run 889

Chequers, Wrestlingworth

Monday, 18 August 2008

Hares: Flo & OverWallahFlo

HASHERS: 18  ANKLE BITERS: 1  APRES: 3

Well, here we are again, the final Monday evening run for 2008, it only seems like a few months ago that we had our first Monday evening run for 2008. In fact it was only a few months ago that we had our first Monday evening run for 2008. The brace of hares arrived early due to a totally untypical dose of guilt concerning the run. As Flo & Overflo left the pub car park to scuttle into the backwaters of Wrestlingworth a gnat's before 19.00 o'clock, we were met by Pussies Galore & Gorjoyce driving in. Why? We asked ourselves. But we never found out, it will have to remain a mystery forever like why the sea is salty, why the sky is blue & why the Belgians make better chocolate than anyone else. Anyway, we went to lay an extra loop to the run 'cos Flo thought it was too short.

Turnout was better than we thought it was going to be considering the poxy weather which goes to prove the age old saying sic transit gloria mundi which roughly translated means "thus passes the glory of the world" or. more colloquially, "that's how the cookie crumbles". The hares tried to convince a sceptical circle that the brevity of the run to come was due to: a) the nights drawing in, and b) the presence of a f*****g great bull in a field on the route. This scepticism was very perceptive as the actual reason was that the lazy bastards hares couldn't be arsed recce-ing it. Just goes to show that you cant trust hares. For the technically minded, refer to Technical Appendix 1 [see above for visuals .... Ed].

On out of the pub car park into immediate confusion (hashers & hares alike), people wandering in all directions. Shaggy even returned to the pub convinced that the run was to the nearby crossroads & back (nice try). It was when we reached the first check, by the church, that everyone realised that this particular run might be a problem. The reasons were meteorological & zoological: a) it had pissed down the previous night which had washed most of the flour away, and b) what was left had provided a scrummy snack for the local slug population that had turned out in impressive numbers to enjoy H5's largesse. Scoobby Dooby Doo who was obviously a committed (he ought to be) member of the RSPM (Royal Society for the Prevention of Molluscs) set about enthusiastically inflicting his own version of "the Final Solution" on the unsuspecting pulmonates (slugs to you). SDD is going to be in dead lumber in eternity if God proves to be a slug.

Private Parts was in mathematically cracking form when he ran back No. 8 from a number check marked with a 7 and refused to run back from check marked with a 6 when he arrived as number 5. Refer to Technical Appendix No 2. Lots of other stuff happened but I cant be bothered writing about any of it.

Occurrences at the final circle (otherwise known as the anal sphincter): Hares were amply rewarded for their meagre efforts. Down downs for Donut & Scoobby Dooby Doo for having the temerity to be a year older. SDD gave a whole new meaning to the term "beer belly* when he tipped his pint down the front of his T shirt and made most of the circle feel slightly nauseous when he demonstrated his underwear (at least I hope it was his underwear, if not, his genitals are looking decidedly peaky). Forking Dickchair also induced revulsion when his shorts ripped (again) fairly spectacularly revealing their contents for all to see and marvel at. Flo suggested that they ought to be used as a hash mascot & hoisted to the top of a flagpole (I meant his shorts not their contents though come to think of it a pair of genitals up a flag pole miaht be an interesting addition to any hash event - Flo. It's just a guess but I doubt that FD would be generous enough to donate his genitals for this, even though it is such a worthy cause - Flobolloxoverwallah). Perhaps we should hoist Forking Dickchair to the top of the flagpole and give his shorts a decent burial.

Shaggy was caught advertising the "W" thing & paid the ultimate penalty in Greene King IPA. So finished the final Monday run of 2008 which just goes to prove the age old saying: sic transit gloria Monday which roughly translated means ... oh, work it out for yourself.

The End
Luv
Flo & wallahflo-overbollox

Technical Appendix 1: Flo's musings on laying the right length: a) if it feels too short, it's the right length, b) if it feels the right length, it's too long, c) if it feels too long, it's massive (at least I think she was talking about the run)

Technical Appendix 2: Overwallahflobollox has to admit that it was he who sent Private Parts back from the 7 check. In my defence I was absent from school when we did 7, hence blowing my chances of being a mathematical genius.

Technical Appendix 3: More musings on getting the length of the run right, whilst laying it: Flo to Overbolloxwallahflo, "Wills my legs are hurting." Five minutes later - Flo to Bolloxwallahflo-over, "Wills, my legs are weally weally hurting now." It's time to give up and go home...sod the run.