Sunday, November 29, 2009

Run #151 The Trash

The woman that lives next to me is a dickhead. Yet another virgin run. How nice. I remember my first time in the back of my Cortina. Sorry, having trouble focusing today. Talking of saying sorry as English people often do, last weeks run was set by Mr and Mrs Tug. Tug was full of apologies as we ran around Cable Beach looking for marks that had just disappeared. At first I thought they had just drawn arrows in the sand with a stick and the wind blew them away, but no, I did find a couple of tiny remnants of flour on one of the dunes. My guess is that as Mr Tug was dropping the flour Mrs Tug was running behind collecting it up again to use in the yummy desert she made. We had a nice run up over the dunes along the beach and back over the dunes on a different path. It’s always so nice when you get up on top of the dunes and look out over Broome. The trail through 6 seasons was a bit dodgy. Tug didn’t even seem to know where it was supposed to go. I’m thinking now that maybe he gave the kids five bucks and got them to set it. Anyway, there was a Hash Halt and we found that or it found us and we were able to refuel. Except the walkers. I trumpeted but to no avail, they didn’t show up. So we headed off and after losing the arrows again we reverted to our sheep mentality and just followed the person in front, or beside or even behind and had a nice workout back to the Tug house. A couple of the girls went for a dip in the pool and that childish Barge woman squirted Faucet in the crutch with the kid’s water pistol. The circle was led by Cockup for what may be his last run up here for a couple of months. We had four virgins. I always feel like I’m writing something naughty when I write virgin. Virgin. Virgin. Virgin. I don’t understand why as I don’t feel anything when I write Qantas. I can’t remember what people were charged for, not even me. I do know that bitch Fish Fingers with the down down enforcer cup poured ice water on my head even before the chant was half way through. If anyone ever remembers any significant down down charges then just post them on the comment page of the relevant blog. And thankyou to those who do post comments as I enjoy reading crap as well as writing it. The food was great. I think everyone had seconds except for the Tug family who would have had to have thirds and fourths and food all week. Hash is definitely worth it just for the food lately. The evening ended for me when I left, which would be pretty obvious. I couldn’t stay any longer listening to Cockup strumming the guitar although the tug children seemed in awe of his skill. So final critique. Good shit run for first time tuggers. Always good to have new people set runs as it adds variety and new ideas.
Now remember it’s Xmas time and we all drink too much and eat too much and get fat so it’s extremely important to come along to Hash this time of year and do some running and wobble off a few grams of fat. Next week at Captains should be great. Really nice location, almost as nice as my place. Turnip.
Oh Shit I almost forgot something educational (except for the first sentence). Tasmania is the southern most state of Australia.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Run #152 30NOV





530 FOR 6


Friday, November 20, 2009

RUN #151 24NOV








Thursday, November 19, 2009

Run #150 The Trash

Shit. People are actually reading this blog now so it looks like I’ll have to stop swearing and use bigger, more smarter words. Firstly I should warn readers that this blog contains a picture of a male penis but I guess it’s too late now (you already looked at it didn’t you and yes it is very small). I’m going to start off with ISOTH I guess, who we all know is the Greek God of Running and not the shelia on the right in the dress. Our flash new Hash shirts (thanks Red) pay homage to this mythical legend who is said to be able to sip from the gilded chalice of Minyirr without spilling a drop. Legend also has it that he set trails in Peloponnese that even the roman chariots failed to conquer. Peloponnese of course is the most southern state of Greece, if you exclude the islands of Crete and South Aegean which of course you would. This would be a good moment to change to Phthalates. Although this sounds like another Greek God we all know he isn’t or at least you will soon. Besides being almost impossible to say, phthalates are a class of widely used industrial compounds known technically as dialkyl or alkyl aryl esters of benzenedicarboxylic acid. There are many phthalates with many uses, and just as many toxicological properties. Intentional uses of phthalates include softeners of plastics, oily substances in perfumes, additives to hairsprays, lubricants and wood finishers. That new car small which becomes especially pungent after the car has been sitting in the sun for a few hours is a popular Broome example. Why am I going on about this? Because I can. But also because the phthalates dibutyl phthalate (DBP) and diethylhexyl phthalate (DEHP) can produce dramatic changes in male sexual characteristics. These changes include increases in the rates of hypospadias and other indications of demasculinization. At this stage you may be saying what the fuck are you talking about but stick with me as it will soon become clear. Although I’m no Ichthyologist (it’s real, you can look it up) I have figured something out. The 150th Run was set by Red and Faucet and was a good solid workout. But, from 27 starters only 4 guys finished the entire run. Except for Pash and Slang and Tug and someone else who sort of missed the very last bit through no fault of their own. No-one got lost except for that girl from an air express company and we had trouble locating her as she had no tracking number or con note. I believe she was packaged correctly in a hash isoth shirt so she should have been pretty easy to find but…

Anyway back to my central thesis. 27 minus 4, minus another 4, minus 1 equals 18. Which calculates to a bunch of 18 girls (or boys exposed to phthalates) that couldn’t hack the pace. WE'RE TURNING INTO A BUNCH OF GIRLS! Now I also have a new concern. Do our new flash Hash shirts contain any phthalates? (Maybe that's why Kama didn't get a shirt). If they do then the few male hashers we have in this club may soon see their tackle shrivel up and we’ll all end up becoming the Harriets. You may laugh but lately I feel I have been developing breasts. Or maybe that’s the hormones in the chickens or the beer. I’m sorry but I have to do some work so I can’t continue on forever with this plenteous dribble.

The run was fantastic. Just so you know, all runs that I help set will be fantastic if I’m the one writing the blog. It was set for the big runners like Spec, Slow Lane and Quickie who unfortunately were unable to turn up. Halfarsed, Conchie and a couple of others had a go but it was a big ask. Cockup made one when he called an on back for two dots that was really one dot with a bicycle track through the middle. Barge lead the pack up the hill to the water tower which of course was an on back. We had a hash halt in the drain at the end of Sanctuary where the real men drank beer from glass bottles and the girls drank cold water from a phthalatic water cooler using phthalatic plastic cups. The walkers on homed to the surf club and we rode the last of the runners into the ground through the back streets of Sunset Park.

Back at the Surf Club, Arseabout, Maestro and Director had worked hard behind the scenes to compliment a great run with food and song. The circle was lead by Cockup who paid homage to our GM Kamakazie and to all who helped make Broome Hash the most successful Broome Hash in Broome. There were lots of down downs of which I can’t recall but when the November photos get put on the blog you’ll be able to see them. You know what they say “a pictures worth a thousand words”. I guess that means I could have just taken a photo of a poo and stuck it on the blog and save myself two hours of writing. It’s nearly finished. I’m guessing Arseabout and Maestro made the cool cocktails in which we partook. She also made these really cool cup cakes with 150 on them. I had two and put three bucks in the jar but no-one else seemed to bother. We had some yummy stuff from Zanders and some pizzas which I never got around to trying but they looked good. Muppet and I cleaned up the last of the wedges. As the night came to a close the usual stragglers and a couple of others sat around the bucket of wisdom and talked crap. It would have been really cool if we’d picked up the bucket, passed it around and drank from it until all the sangria was gone. I guess it was a plastic bucket and those phthalates took over again.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Run #149 The Trash

WELCOME to the Roebuck Bay Primary School Hash House Harriers. We are a fun loving group of total fucking losers who meet on Monday nights to run through Roebuck Primary School. We have such fun. We draw arrows which get rubbed out by the kids or sometimes washed away by the sprinklers which makes it even more exciting than you could ever imagine. So, if you’ve ever wanted to lurk around a primary school after dark then we’re the group for you.

Right, now that’s off my chest, the run was set by the three stooges or is that an old people joke. The run was set by Commando, Shrink and Pussy. Fortunately Commando came along or we would have been totally lost. Shrink n' Pussy stayed home and did the food. We quickly left Roebuck for the better class of trail in Sunset Park where money is no object and there were plenty of pretty pink P arrows to follow. They just kept heading to the Surf Club but when we arrived we found we were a week to early for the 150th run. Fortunately there was a nice APT truck there with booze. Slang mentioned something about it being the best thing she could ever ask for. That’s sad. But then she also shoved her torch in her mouth and pointed out if you do that and you have a cleft palate then the light shines out your nose, or something like that. Where did we find this girl? We did the Broome tour in the truck back to the Jigal house. Cockup took too long to drop the truck off so Faucet was called on to do the Religious duties for the evening. Fifteen women and only five guys, it was sort of like one of those dreams I used to have when I was younger or like those nightmares I have now. Sorry to jump from first to third person when I write but Faucet doesn’t care. Three hares down down,, two cane toad visitors and one virgin. The Visitors said their names were Jackoff and Wombat (no where near as pretty as our Wombat) but it sounds sus to me. They started in Cairns Hash then moved to Darwin Hash and now there checking out Broome Hash. Mmmm. Dodgey. We also had two namings. Faucet got lucky, having two girls kneel down in front of him. As predicted, Fish Fingers is now officially called Fish Fingers and the girl with more studs than Bart Cummings ended up being called Tackle Box. At least if she gets lost on a run we’ll be able to find her with a metal detector. We had a nice song selection for the evening although the farewell song for Commando had that real naughty word in it. If my mother finds out I said it I’ll get my mouth washed out with soap again. Food. Yes, Food. It was great. They might set a crap run but they make a mean curry with all the trimmings. For $5 it was a better bargain than you’d get in Bombay which is now called Mumbai of course and is the capital of the Indian state of Maharashtra. I’m trying to educate you stupid people who have actually read this far down the blog. Haven’t you got work to do? Goodbye and don’t forget that next weeks 150th run is at the Surf Club which is located no where near Roebuck Fucking Primary School.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Friday, November 6, 2009

RUN #149 09NOV

A trio of lovely ladies offering us Roebuck Estate in all it's suburban glory.





Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Run #148 The Trash

On the eve of the night of the race that stops a nation we had our own race. We had 16 starters, no barrier draw, two starters horns, Spec was the favourite of course. Muppet was a late scratching but turned up for the feed. Even Maestro turned out for the big event. Red, a no show as was Commando. None of this wossy 3200 metres for us Hashers. Porno and Gwnn had set a much longer, draining course through lesser known parts of Roebuck. The track was dry and sandy. The moon full. The run was good for a Virgin effort as we lost no-one and got a good work out. Do Roebuckians have some law that says Hash Runs must always pass through Roebuck Primary? It’s fucking childish. Stop it!
Pash was the hash flash for the night so don’t blame me for all the arse shots. I just wanted that put on the record in case some-one thinks I’m some sort of weirdo. I nearly forgot. Porno and Gwnn put on a hash halt at the park. Gwnn said she was a bit worried about turning up there before we arrived as there was some sort of Shire worker hanging around. If she had explained to him that she was just waiting for Porno and his followers to arrive and that she had something cool for them to suck on then I am sure he would have understood. I must say it was a pleasant recharge.
The circle was small and cosy, Slow Lane back as the RA. Porno had new shoes and so somehow got to have a combined shoe and hare down down. The first attempt at filling his shoe failed as it poured straight out through the bottom. I was beginning to wonder what Matso’s were putting in the ginger beer but soon realised that he taken out the shoe liner. The instructions probably said that you must leave the liner in when you are drinking from the shoe but Porno obviously hadn’t read them properly!
There were only a few down downs and much to the disappointment of Arseabout no one needed to be enforced. Slang brought a new song to the group. Well she obviously stole it from somewhere but it was simple, stupid, totally irrelevant, had naughty words and easy to remember, so I’ll go out on a limb here and say it will become a popular song for Broome Hash circles from now on. "Meat pies, peas and gravy, you are fucking crazy, la la la bump, la la la bump. Meat pies, peas and lentil, you are fucking mental, la la la bump, la la la bump." Sounds better with alcohol. Hey, while I’m out on a limb I think if you don’t have a Hash name and you start talking about fish fingers and then go on and on and on about them, while people around you are pissing themselves laughing so much those little knobby bits on the back of their heads behind their ears hurt, then, you’re probably be getting a Hash name next week.
Changing the subject to food. There was enough Mexican to feed a rural village in Chiapas. (the southern most state of Mexico) I think the chilli’s might have killed a few people though. You people that ate them. What do your internal organs think of you? Do you eat then so you can have runs during the week? The rest of the food was great though. Shrink bought heaps of beer. Remember next week, Chiapas is the southern most state of Mexico.