Monday, May 5, 2014

Trash # 382



I can’t remember anything about the run.

Run #
You always know the food’s going to be good at an Octo run. Thank the Hash Lords because the run was shit. The trail petered out somewhere around Wakayama and the GM took over, leading the straggling pack into an unlit muddy drain. Luckily, we all read the clearly emailed instructions and brought our torches*. Team Crack Diver and Team Topless were separated by suburbs but joined by technology; leading us to the hash halt at the cemetery.

* We didn’t bring our torches.
Drinks were lazily consumed, hashers sat down on benches and grass, and Nutcracker’s stretching was captured for prosperity on hash flash. Why a walker needs to stretch remains unclear. Eventually we were herded back into the run, many choosing to run their own direct On Home.

CrackDiver ran as tight a circle as he could, with the help of enforcers and a Rapey butler.

Virgin NN Steph busted out some moves, Rapey did some things that probably shouldn’t be written down.

Hash charges were … vague. Hash namings were challenging. Bi-curious George finally got a look in; however his partner in passion, NN Sam** (who really likes watching football) missed out. NN Gavin remains un-nameable.

** Nivea or Olay (you work it out)

There were three ice chairs – a dummy spit for Razor Tit, Nutcracker for stretching and …

The blog is too late for a fundraiser reminder for SparkleMotion. The Pink Run is on next week. Faucet talked about something in two years time (time speeds up when you get old).

On on.
















No comments: