Run 939

Bangers' Gaff, Dunstable

Monday, 29 June 2009

Hare: Bangers 'n' Madge


Well I'll stick my hand up.
I was wrong.
I pop off for a few days in search of pubs in Cornwall and what happens?
The whole Wurdz thing grinds to a halt.
Although, Gawd Bless Him and to his eternal credit, FDC did send
a few of the necessary for me to post on my return.
Which I now do with apologies for the delay.

Normal service will hopefully be resumed in Astwick

Scribe ................. Sunday

Dunstable, recently parodied on the television as a ghost-town without shops was full of hashers on run 939.

Starting from Banger's Gaff there were two car parks. Those in the posh car park such as Tim and his little dog Jester, Shufflecock, Rapid Withdrawal and Nigel, Shagpile and Underlay, Gorjoyce and Private Parts and White Rabbit were to be disappointed that the beautiful double fronted house with side garage and snooker room, bar, swimming pool and living in au-pair was on the other side of the road to Banger's gaff. They weren't the first to arrive either as Penetrator and Ringpiece had been there since 6 o'clock.

"What time does it start" was a polite way of saying they don't know what they were doing there. The route took off down to the High Street in search of a bargain at any shop that could be found. The first hold stop was outside the old police station. Rapid thought the road should be wittily re-named as 'Letsby Avenue' A string of false trails ensued. White Rabbit looked at Nik Nak and gave her expert opinion that "That's a falsie". Plastic Surgery was the last thing on Nik Nak's mind as the route shuffled down Cemetery Lane. From here the route climbed upwards, but not without Private Parts indulging in some swinging. The view from the top was so spectacular that Shagpile claimed to be able to "See the Sea". Few others could match his sonic powers of sight.

Banger's BBQ was agreed a success as sausages and burgers vanished. The circle included the naming of Tim pursuing dog activities on Dunstable Downs; DOGGER. Nigel had driven to the hash in the Lotus, leaving his other Lotus at home, himself now known to his hash friends as Lotus BLOSSOM. Croquet rounded of the night as those croaky at croquet such as Forking Dickchair sat out the final as the light faded and Legs Eleven thwacked granddad Ringer's balls all round the garden.

On On to the Tudor Oaks.


Scribe's P.S...... I'm apologising for not posting 939 Wurdz within 6 days.
Hop along to the H4 Website to check out their Run Report for 938 - the joint run.
Not a dicky bird.
I mention this only because I noticed this proud boast on the H4 Home Page:

"A Hash who don't trespass in to other counties for half of their yearly Trails"

and - quite apart from the appalling grammar - I thought that might be just a trifle bitchy.
Or am I reading too much into it?
On On