Wednesday, October 27, 2010
5.30pm for a 6.00 pm off porno and fishfingers
A milestone in Broome Hash. Be there!
$30.00 includes Food, Drink and commemorative, once off, souvenir, collectable, covet-able, sought after 200th Cap in startling shade of orange.
Posted by Red at 1:26 PM 0 comments
That the hare from Derby hash had got away,
And joined the wild marsh mudcrabs – running sideways cross King Sound,
So all the hashers gathered to the fray.
All the tried and noted hashers from the cities near and far
Had landed at this outpost through the years,
For the runners love hard drinking where the wild marsh mudcrabs are,
And the walkers snuff the jogging for the beers.
There was Yno, who made her stand when the kennel first set up,
The old girl with her mug filled to the brim;
And few could drink beside her when her blood was fairly up
She would quaff long after boy and man caved in.
And Dags from Hamersley came up to lend a gut,
No better drinker ever felt so harsh;
For kids nor wife could drag him while the beer still filled his cup,
He learned to drink while running on the marsh.
And one was there, a stripling like a small and weedy beast,
He was something like a saltie undersized,
With a touch of native dog - three parts wolverine at least
And such as are by global hashers prized.
He was hard and tough and wiry - just the sort that won't say die -
And silent like he had been interbred
He bore the badge of crazy in his bright and fiery eye,
And he never threw the hash splash past his head.
But still so slight and weedy, one would doubt his power to stay,
And old Yno said, "That Wolf he won’t pull through
Through a long and tiring hash halt - Wolf, you'd better stop away,
The marsh is far too flat for such as you."
So he waited sad and wistful - only Dags stayed as his friend -
"I think we ought to let him come," Dags mused;
"I warrant he'll be with us when he's wanted at the end,
And the old guy - he won’t drink all the booze.
"He hails from Derby Township, in the Kimberley’s heart,
Where the marsh is twice as wet and twice as rough,
Where your sneakers stick like glue and the mudflats never part,
The hasher that holds his own is good enough.
And the Derby Hash House Harriers on the mudflats make their home,
Where the rivers all run o’er and in between;
I have seen full many hashers since I first commenced to roam,
But a sober one departing I’ve never seen."
So Wolf went - they found the mudcrabs by the rooted mangrove clump -
They raced away towards the sloppy banks,
And old Yno gave her orders, "Let’s go at them from the jump,
And leave behind those fancy sneakers thanks.
Plain Comfy, Hungry Bum, check it left and check it right.
Send the Gump on straight - avoid false trails.”
Muffin Top and White Rabbit couldn’t keep the mob in sight,
Whilst Sphincter was just waiting for the ales.
Lucky Hooker found the trail - she was racing at the fore
Where the front running bastards take their place,
Dags said “I named her Lucky cos I couldn’t call her whore”
Well at least not out in public to her face.
They halted for a moment, and Dags handed out some splash,
Then waited for Gobble Dick’s voice to halt,
She talked and no-one listened, well except maybe for Rash,
Who drinks warm beer although it’s not her fault.
“On-on” the hashers followed, where the gorges deep and black
Resounded to the tourists and their kind,
Whilst Well Laid stumbled forward and tried to keep the track
Titsel kept falling further behind.
And sideways, ever sideways, the wild mudcrabs held their way,
Where Brahman beef and boabs both grew wide;
And old Gretta muttered fiercely, "We may bid the mob good day,
For I must walk my wife who’s growing great with child."
When they reached the river’s bank, Donkey took a pull,
Which made the ladies sharply draw their breath,
The mangrove roots grew thickly, and the hidden ground was full
Of crocodiles, and any slip was death.
But the Derby Hash House Harriers kept tramping through the mud
Clueless tooted on the horn, and cried “on-on”,
And they raced on down the river bank like the Fitzroy under flood,
The Broome hash wondered why they had all gone.
They sent the mud clods flying, and never once fell over,
They caught fresh barramundi in their stride,
The hash from Broome gave up and went home clean and sober
That Broome mob couldn’t hash deadly if they tried.
Through the mangrove swamps and shiggy, on the rough and dirty paths,
Through the packs of roaming camp dogs some call pets;
And they never lost the trail even when the sky turned dark,
So unlike the trails that Clueless usually sets.
BMW was at the front as they roamed the dark back streets,
And Two Balls looked on with loving pride,
‘Til she tripped over a mattress, became tangled in the sheets,
And nearly swept away on the outgoing tide
They lost the hare for a moment, behind the Boab Hotel
So they drank a few refreshers then drank some more
There was talk of staying ‘til Tight Nuts gave a strangled yell,
“I see a crab has got our hare between its claws”.
The hash jumped up and ran to the tide wave brown with foam
Followed trail like a mob chasing killer beef,
Till the crabs stopped cowed and beaten, Dags took the big ones home,
And they gave the hare a consolation leaf.
By now the hash was drunk and tired they could scarcely raise a trot,
And Buggsy’s thongs were looking rather drab;
Still they knew that when on home the circle would be running hot,
So they gave up and hailed a passing cab.
And in the Kimberley, where the ancient ridges raise
Their torn and rugged battlements on high,
Where the air is wet as virgins, the Derby hashers fairly blaze
‘Til midnight ‘neath the hot and humid sky,
And where around the Kimberley the grass plains sweep and sway
To the breezes, and the muddy flats are wide,
The Derby Hash House Harriers are a household name today,
It’s where the beer goes down much faster than the tide.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
5 PM for 6 PM start -
Rear of Kimberley Bookshop.
Needing folk to turn up early please, some at 5, some at 5:15, some at 5:30 etc so that we can apply makeup.
Everyone to bring one item of old rags to wear over usual running gear - an old shirt , a hat, pants. Shred them up and we'll spray them with 'blood & gore".
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
So the two F’s, Fingers and Fluffer set a big run out to eat oranges on the lawn at Willie Creek. The arrows were a bit sad but then rumour has it the both had big hangovers from Matso’s Oktoberfest so I guess we could cut them some slack. They managed to drag about forty of us out to get hot and sweaty and I think most of us made it home, eventually. Back at Roebuck Primary views in the pindan garden, Red and the dog and the Butterbitch led the proceedings with the hares getting down downs first. No, trouble with people putting away their drinks this time of year. We had three virgins who, following our new tradition, which changes weekly, were made to do a conga line around the drinks table. They took it in their stride and even seemed to enjoy it. Virgins are such a good laugh lately. And namings, we ended up with 5 of those. At least two of the virgins got named first night. I mean if you turn up at hash in one of the village people’s tight white singlets and blue headband and erect nipples then Tittyana sounds appropriate to me. And then if you were the person who told him what to wear to hash then you also need a name, unfortunately or luckily the name Bitch was awarded to another girl on the night, can’t remember why and hopefully won’t find out. I’m sure she’s a nice girl. So anyway back to the bitch in nature and not in name, she got called Prickly Bush which I guess is sensible if your name is Holly. Actually I thought holly was mistletoe but they are totally different things after a quick wiki. I’ll obviously need to check which prickly bush I kiss under this Xmas. And Needle Dick evolved from a compass needle which came from getting lost but hey, not my problem as my name’s easy to explain and logical. Last but not least, Cougar, which seems pretty mellow to me. What do they call dirty old men that chase young girls? I wouldn’t know. There was the few usual media candidates and Cracker just had to have one because she wasn’t in the paper this week. The batteries went flat so photos are limited this week. Also noticed there were about 15 bikes there. What healthy, enviro conscious souls we are. The food was great; sort of Nachos come chilli concarne and heaps of it. Unfortunately I have to work today. Bye.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Well, you know what they say, “tiny arrows, big run”. Well maybe they don’t say that but I can say what ever you read. So I did. Bogger and Faucet set five and a half kilometre’s of adventure, with virgin bits, holes in fences, circumfrencing of buildings and a condom tree and all within a K of the start. Unfortunately the light rain softened a few arrows and the scattered toilet paper camouflaged the flour, on the hill and believe it or not the shire actually bobcatted the drain and took out the flour which had been carefully laid there the day before. And no we didn’t kick the holes trough the fences, we just capitalised on their appearance. Good crowd again of thirty plus. Some slackers dropped out early and took to the pool and I guess in the end most people ended up in it one way or another. With A.T. away it was the night to bring out one of our new trainee RA’s and what a fine job he did. Butterbitch can obviously do more than butter bread but even with his new high profile role he didn’t get any sex that night. School night of course. Started off with accusations of a shit run and the hares took it in their stride or their stroke as the down downed in the pool. Being up the deep end made it hard to down and tread and I guess in Boggers case it was the same either end of the pool. We had a pair of virgins who in turn were baptised by the virgin RA. We had Slow Lane and Cockup back after a bit of an absence but they of course had no trouble putting their beers away. Cracker had another media down down. She’s in the media more than Julia. And Namings. The man whose wife is a pusher got called Puller and then finally after a lot of runs the fishy aquaculture girl got called Octopussy. Not sure where she keeps them all. The photo of her christening looks a bit dodgy. I was there and either it happened quickly or there is some other reason for it. Speaking of namings did you see the name Dikshit has already been taken by a woman called Shelia in India. Some Kiwi TV show host made fun of her name and lost his job. None of that in Hash. We also named our youngest Hash member, Splinter, after her new Mum and Dad. Well done Gash and Woodpecker.
Faucet did the Thai green chicken curry thing and also emptied the bottom drawer of his fridge into a pot to make a curry for the vegos. There was also some premium on special chocie chip cookies for desert. A few people stayed on for a beer and the eskies even felt remarkably lighter next day. See you all next week. Been a while since we did the Roebuck Primary School. I'm even looking forward to it.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Manggala banu, biny guwal wirl buru, barrgana yarri wongai. Shit, I just remembered we didn’t do a welcome to country. A.T.? Aren’t we supposed to do that and then sing God Save the Queen or something? We could all go to hell or Port headland or somewhere for our ignorance. Speaking of the Commonwealth which I sought of was, we’re getting more athletes turn up to Hash now than the Delhi Games. 33 last night. I even noticed we had two slabs of gold in the trailer. Lets see the Aussies out do that. So Bargey and “wanta have a beer with…” who’s now called Uranus set a stellar course through and around the trendy new Six Seasons estate. A bit of everything chalk, flour, pink ribbon, broken sticks and twigs, bungarra footprints. I’m just going to slip the educational section in here which I hope doesn’t confuse you too much, well actually I don’t really care if it does, I just wrote that to try and be nice but really I’m not, well actually I probably really am nice but then it would be a bit egotistical of me to waste your time reading a blog which I’ve written about myself and just waffle on crap and then follow up with something of probably little interest to anybody, except me. Did you know that in some Aboriginal languages, the sand goanna is called Bungarra, and that the term is commonly used by non-aboriginal people in Western Australia. Wikipedia knew that! Now considering most of us are imports to WA we should start talking a bit more like the locals. I actually like bungarras, they’re kind of cute. By the way it’s pronounced like they were defective arrows used by Native American Indians. Maybe check with Slang our pronunciation guru. I believe I’m waffling a bit today. I’m also cleaning the pool. I find that very relaxing.
So, anyway the run was shit, did I mention that. The circle was good. Lots of people stayed for Barge Burgers and rightly so, they were good. And dessert as well. Yum Yum. Is it childish to say Yum Yum. Depends I guess, it could be a Chinese word or a place in Guangzhou province or the heroine in Gilbert and Sullivan's operetta, The Mikado. Waffling again. AT was RA again. I think he spends aeons wondering what he can get the virgins to do each week. Four girls. Ring a ring a rosy. They all fall down (down). We had a Mandurian visitor called Pisweak which I guess could be spelt Piss Week but anyway he was pretty slow on his first down down but for his second one we sloooooowwed it riiight dooowwnnn and he had no problems at all except maybe for that thing coming out his nose (see photo). Speaking of slow, Spec was back and not leading the pack. I hope he’s okay. I didn’t recognise him at first as he had a shirt on. Namings. Always fun, unless it’s you. The crowds getting pretty tough these days, I’m glad I was named back in the milder era. The girl with the black hair was nominated as roadkill but then if you get bogged on the beach you can’t kill much, except maybe turtle eggs so she ended up with Bogger. Uranus was a big one but I cant remember why but hey who cares, its not my name and last but not least, the girl with the thing about throats and swallowing, well she somehow ended up with DeepThroat. Surprise surprise! You should choose your friends or partner carefully when they bring you along to Hash for namings, speaking of which, the dedication award of the week or actually the whole year must go to Gash who is still hashing when she’s only days away from instantly losing several kilos.
We don’t expect to see you there next week but we do expect Woodpecker to bring along the cigars.