A Stranger Writes:
I wasn't there on Sunday because I was flying home from my cruise. On my first day at sea I took full advantage of the many activities on board and [something something: Archive Ed] Mrs Forking Dickchair for a few moments to try my luck at the afternon bingo. Soon I was sinking tequila sunrise and margaritas with a female who we shall call bingo girlfriend number one. Although neither of us picked up anything that afternoon she was all over me like a rash as she had found someone who listened raptuously to tales of her six great grandchildren. Venice was our next stop and reunited with Mrs FDC we sailed the Grand Canal many times from the Rialto Bridge to the Doge's Palace on the vaporetti boat shuttle. Why you may ask is Bangers not compiling his words...let me tell you this; on the two occasions he has crossed town to visit in the past eight years both were followed by frantic grass cutting in case he came back to check. He is kicking and screaming that he will not go on line as all three of us kids try to get him and mother into modern ways. "Done without for over seventy years and can manage without". Moving back to the cruise, by now in Split, Croatia I acquired girlfriend number two. Let's call her 'bingo wings'. "Where id your wife?" was her opening gambit. "Probably with your husband in the piano bar" I offered. By the time the boat reached Dubrovnic a day later I was sporting two days stubble as the ship's chief engineer "Scottie" struggled with the plumbing to get the water temperature above luke warm. I answered this problem by visiting 'Franco' the best barber with a strop in the old walled city. Freshly shaven I woke up early to see the ship's entry into Kotor, Montenegro, a city with world heritage status. Always a useful bit of information in the bar should England get drawn against this new nation in Euro qualifying is that it has the southernmost fjord in the world. Nonetheless I am sure the hash run was wonderful and on on to Henlow for some bowling.
Haven't you missed him?

Run No 953

The Plough, Ley Green

Sunday, 4 October 2009

Hares: Bangers 'n' Madge

HASHERS: 13  ANKLE BITERS: 1  NEWBEES: 1  MUTTS: 1  APRES: 1

When the question of writing Wurdz was raised with Bangers (I didn't ask Madge) he looked at me as if I was speaking French (which the Good Lord knows I couldn't do if I swallowed a babel fish). So I'll aim a few words in the general direction of this fine purveyor of stuffed intestines, and perhaps Forking - when he recovers from not only his hols but the humbling of the Hatters by mighty Stevenage Borough - can kindly guide them to their target.

It's like this. When you find a beautifully rural part of Hertfordshire, with not so much as habitation to mar the rustic charm, when you lay a trail of precisely one hour, complete with cunning falsies and neatly spaced number checks, when even in the absence of the Senior Section of Team RA you organise perfect weather, when you do all of this you really ought to tell the world about it. Well done Bangers but...... sort the Wurdz next time, eh?

Oh, yes and don't forget to add those snippets of useless information that always seem to amuse like:

• Nik Nak turned up late as ever and thought it was terribly clever that she was leading the pack until she ran straight into a number check (picture below)
• Newbee Clive picked up at 952 joined us, which was nice - a "Man from Pirton", a sort of welcome version of Coleridge's "Man from Porlock"
• When some hashers suggested perhaps a few too many number checks, Bangers said they were down to Madge
• All harriettes survived their encounter with Dead Woman's Lane to the relief of our insurers
• The precise number of pheasants Counted on the last leg of the trail was ...... nil. Unless pheasants are those big brown and white things that lie around in fields chewing grass
• And what did Thongo think of the run? Well he had a name for the final shortcut but can I remember it? Should have been "scrumping" because that's what he seemed to be doing
• Legs 11 the junior member of Team RA coped magnificently well left holding the beer, but what The RA would have made of a down-down for "being good" we will hopefully never know
• More conventionally Gorjoyce and Lady Pee were caught gossipping (when I find out what about, you'll be the first to know). White Rabbit and Capt F were punished for being so late they missed the run (itself punishment enough on this occasion I'd have thought) but goodness knows what Shuffle and Shagpile did to deserve John Smiths.
• And the delightful, but far too clever and far too camera shy, Double Entry was quite right: I didn't publish the French for LBK last week - it is Grand Pantaloon Abondant: but could she steer clear of that camera?

OnOn to Southill  Scribe