Scribes 2012

Hola

Después de una fiesta de Navidad excelente y excesivamente indulgente Perdí el autobús para ir a recoger mi coche del club de squash. Comandando el auto de mi esposa me permitió llegar a la carrera justo a tiempo. Me hubiera sido antes, pero encontrar las llaves del auto fue un problema ya que había dejado en la puerta de entrada durante la noche después de Blagging lleve a casa con la bailarina y Tracy.

Al llegar en el sitio Ballerina rápidamente me concedió escriba hachís probablemente por mala conducta bruto y la estupidez de la noche anterior. Culpable de los cargos.

No se siente tan mal como se esperaba y con un giro razonable a posteriori partido Bruce Almightyy me señaló intensivo y la mochila en la dirección correcta. ¿Dónde estaban séptico Sporran y Emu nuestros visitantes? Nadie les había dicho que AH3 comenzó como Edimburgo H3 hizo.

Off fue el paquete por unos 100 metros más o menos y luego el vino tinto, cerveza y vino de Jerez entró en vigor. Por suerte fue un día relativamente cálido, seco y soleado para pasear. Recta a lo largo del ferrocarril! ¿A dónde? Todos adivinó a dónde íbamos, pero cuando hacer esa vuelta a la izquierda hacia el río. Norwood Hall Hotel?

La sugerencia de que el camino era de 9 km de longitud tuvimos nuestra asistente de matemáticas Scabby Culo calcular con la ayuda de su nuevo aparatito podómetro de alta tecnología que el hotel era demasiado pronto para apagar en. Hacia adelante a lo largo de la vía que el paquete de hinchado de haber perdido fuelle por Holburn Street para finalmente apagar Pitfodels cerca hacia el depósito.

Ahora, en el funcionamiento del hogar y por un sendero hashing real con barro y diversos obstáculos de un árbol caído reclamado varias víctimas. Gorro de lana Struth s "posiblemente la salvó pero escuchar un ruido sordo como bailarina prácticamente cerebro se me salvó de un dolor de cabeza peor de lo que ya tenía.

En este punto séptico Sporran acababa de coger para arriba con nosotros, ya que tambaleó a una parada de cariño, íbamos tan lento! (Tenga en cuenta que no me gusta Quality Street) Un paseo final a lo largo del río, a través del Campus Robert Gordon nos llevó a comprobar la cerveza por el lado del río.

Afortunadamente, hay un montón de blandos a la vista de la gallina bebiendo endurecido Speckled pocos o fue Tanglefoot me hizo sentir un liitle mareado.

Era un día soleado para un cambio y había un montón de bajadas hacia abajo

Varios elementos de la propiedad perdida de la noche anterior fueron devueltos incluyendo 'mangas Flamenco, Gay Gordons "Olymprick máscara mosca Española y mi cámara!

FireFlaps para organizar una fiesta de Navidad multa

Pingüino que en su juventud había sido un modelo de estilistas '!

Bailarina y Struth para golpear la madera sobre madera

Emu y séptico por ser tonto como para venir a nuestra fiesta de Navidad

Muchos otros que no recuerdo

Dulzura para los disfraces más críptico: "I luv Torry"? Ha!

Bruja Flaca para algo? Lo sentimos flaco yo no estaba prestando atención a estas alturas, ya que se estaba enfriando.

Barbarella (AKA Marmot) de la rodilla de empleadas domésticas y robar un abrigo policemans

Sépticos y Barbarella: Cops and Robbers

Bruce AlmightyClara intensivo para ser enought bueno fijar un plazo después de una noche muy pesada. ¡gracias

El Inn en el Inn at the Park, un fuego de carbón ardiente, chocolate caliente y ron, una parrilla libre y más cerveza!

Me fui a casa para recuperarse!

On On

Drillbit

Run Number: 1587

Date: Sunday 16th of December 2012 11:00AM

Hare: Intensive Clare &Bruce Almighty

OnOn: Duthie Park riverside car park (Xmas Party Recovery Run)

Hello All

After an excellent and overindulgent Christmas party I missed the bus to go and pick up my car from the squash club. Commandeering my wife's car enabled me to get to the run just in time. I would have been earlier but finding the car keys was a problem as I had left them in the front door overnight after blagging a lift home with Ballerina and Tracy.

Arriving on site Ballerina promptly awarded me hash scribe probably for gross misbehaviour and stupidity the previous night. Guilty as charged.

Not feeling as bad as expected and with a reasonable turn out post party Bruce Almightyand Intensive pointed me and the pack in the right direction. Where were Septic Sporran and Emu our visitors? Nobody had told them AH3 started as Edinburgh H3 did.

Off went the pack for a 100 metres or so and then the red wine, beer and sherry took effect. Fortunately it was a relatively warm, dry and sunny day for a stroll. Straight along the railway! To where? We all guessed where we were going but when to make that left hand turn for the river. Norwood Hall Hotel?

The hint that the trail was 9 km long had our maths wizard Scabby Arse calculating with the aid of his new hi tech pedometer gizmo that the hotel was too soon to turn off at. Onward along the old railway the pack puffed having run out of steam by Holburn Street to eventually turning off near Pitfodels towards the reservoir.

Now on the home run and on a real hashing trail with mud and various obstacles a fallen tree claimed several victims. Struth s wooly hat possibly saved her but hearing a loud thud as Ballerina practically brained himself saved me from a worse headache than I already had.

At this point Septic Sporran had just caught up with us as we staggered to a sweetie stop, we were going that slowly! (Please note I don't like Quality Street) A final stroll along the river, the Robert Gordon Campus, tool us to the beer check by the side of the river.

Fortunately there was lots of softies at the site of the hardened few quaffing Speckled Hen or was it Tanglefoot made me feel a liitle queasy.

A stroll through Duthie Park took us back to the cars and the circle.

It was a sunny day and there were lots of down downs

Several items of lost property from the previous night were returned including Olympricks’ Flamenco sleeves, Gay Gordons’ Spanish Fly mask and my camera!

• FireFlaps, Cockatool (and Trouser Shredder in her absence) for organising a fine Xmas party

• The Penguin who in his youth had been a hair stylists' model!

• Ballerina and Struth for banging wood on wood

• Emu and Septic for being daft enough to come to our Xmas party

• Several others I can't remember

• Sweetness for the most cryptic fancy dress, "I luv Torry"? Ha!

• Skinny Witch for something? Sorry Skinny Witch I wasn't paying attention by now as it was getting cold

• Barbarella (AKA Marmot): for housemaid’s knee and stealing a policeman’s coat

• Septic and Barbarella: Cops and Robbers

• Bruce Almighty and Intensive Clare for being good enough to set a run after a very heavy night. Thank you

On Inn to the Inn at the Park, a blazing coal fire, hot chocolate and rum, a carvery and more beer!

Adios! I went home to recover!

On On

Drillbit

ABERDEEN HASH HOUSE HARRIERS

RUN NO. 1582

11 NOVEMBER 2012

CULTER

HARE - NUMBSKULL

SCRIBE - SIR Deadmund Hillary

Many hashers were missing as they had defected to the rival Mearns MH4 do in Braemar. AH3 enjoy having a sister hash in the area to give variety - but not when it takes the prettiest, most youthful and athletic hashers away for the weekend!

Aids the RA was away with Cinders enjoying the Caribbean and may be back before Christmas. Poor Ballerina was left with doing GM, Hash cash, Head hare, etc. etc. After his welcome address he said he was going to deviate from long standing hash tradition by delaying the customary 1 minute silence for Remembrance Sunday until the end of the hash - even though it coincided with Armistice Day this year. Ballerina proceeded to tell us all about the year 1582. William Shakespeare had a shotgun wedding with Anne Hathaway - who gave birth a baby girl six months later.

The year 1582 saw the beginning of the Gregorian calendar switch for most European countries. In these countries, the year continued as normal until Thursday, October 4. However, the next day became Friday, October 15. England was ahead of the game by switching a few years earlier; but Scotland didn’t hear or implement the change until run number 1600.

Little Shit was awarded the pre-run down-down for writing on Mrs. T’s car - “Your car is f**king dirty and needs a clean”.

Sir Deadmund Hillary (me) volunteered to be hash scribe for the run as the GM was struggling to find anybody and I haven’t done it for several years. I took the opportunity to announce to the circle that I had had a significant birthday on the 5th November as was inviting everyone to a BBQ and Kaylee at the Old Mill Inn on the 4th May 2013. Ask Glasgow about the date!

Numbskull, the hare, said he was also going to deviate from tradition by changing the pre-run orientation chat to a post-run debrief (or post-mortem). He would tell us about the number of spots for an on-on and hand out the walkie talkie map after the run!

The hash set off straight up the hill where Killer the dog did a poo. Unfortunately his owner hadn’t brought any poo bags and thought nobody would notice. But the internet now knows.

The run got stuck at the folly castle on the far side of the forest. The hare was nowhere to be seen but the pack eventually found their way down to the old Deeside railway line. The hash pack made its way through Peterculter to the memorial tower where we found Pigiron looking for the beer stop. He later stopped for a pee and Barbarella noted that Pigiron displayed a hell of a builder’s crack.

There were NO sweets or flat juices at the beer stop.

Canna-b-Arsed was a brilliant RA at the circle.

• He gave Ballerina a Down Down for not remembering the nations war dead at the opening circle - and then proceeded to show how it should be done.

• Social Sex, Trouser Shredder and FireFlaps and were thanked for organising the Comedy Night at the Blue Lamp.

• FireFlaps wasn’t given a Down Down after meeting a Polish drummer in Oban. Perhaps we will hear about it later?

• Watzoff got a Down Down for using words that few of us understand in last week’s scribe report such as: conjunctions, triumvirate and terpsichorean.

• FireFlaps’ Mady was sporting a facial bruise after being head butted by a reindeer. A real reindeer not a stuffed one! She carried a squished farmer called Stanley.

• Intensive Clare Got a Down Down for scaring Leeky Willie by letting her mother drive him to the hash.

• Bladerunner introduced Gavin and Stacy (or was it Halle) to the hash and made them cum.

I didn’t get a Down Down even though it was my significant birthday!

Sir Deadmund Hillary

CVRSVS MDLXXXI

PITFICHIE FOREST

ONEINER & SKINNY WITCH

All the way up the track to the gate was a line of cars with racks on their back. Having driven to the top, and deciding against an elegant 69 point manoeuvre I reversed back down again - and later got a down down for not hitting, or even scratching, any rack carrier. In a circle, bereft of an RA, I was given the horn and an orange bib by a GM muttering about Sir Francis Drake.

Numbskull was given a cheer for modelling a fetching pair of baggy black 555 shorts (awarded to him after his repeated pleading that he had been vaguely in the vicinity when 555 runs had taken place).

As the hares were discoursing on the splendours of the run to come there was an interruption by people on fairy cycles demonstrating their skill at remaining upright and motionless on their machines, it gradually became clear that they were not motionless, the near imperceptible forward motion being apparently their normal speed up a slope.

As tradition dictates the run began uphill, but then took a falsie to the right, instead of the time hallowed left prescribed for this onon, and from then on the only guide was the flour. And hares sitting grinning at crucial conjunctions offered no help - as is their right.

Lots of nice hills and views, not much mud (and no Cockatool around anyway) Good fast run, no comic turns or mishaps that I happened to see, and the sun shone. No sweeties at the beer check - but no smirking SCBs either. Then mulled wine and good beer as preparation for a circle of an inanity well up to standard - even without the presence of any of the rotating triumvirate of reigning RAs (skiving gits)

Once the identities of Ballerina and Barbarella had been disentangled and satisfied himself that the rather fetching folding dog bowl that Whinger brandished was not a hat, Stainless complained about unidentified hashers luring her into the wilderness for unspecified purposes. Then I was given a down down for using the horn just to signal when on trail (seemingly there are some in the pack who long for more of Lum's incontinent squeezing of his tooter) But the air was chilling, there were no visitors or strangers and warm food at Hippo's and Mrs T's enticed, so the hares

OneLiner & Skinny Witch were summoned to sup. As the hares gracefully entwined their lithe forms and drinking arms, gyrating as if on. Strictly, the traditional verses were extended, and more were added, of escalating obscenity and vulgarity, the hares' ability to extend their terpsichorean gyrations was severely tested. So much did these proceedings add to the perturbation of a solitary cyclist fiddling with his car door that he came over to the circle, bow legged and ashen faced, to announce that some miscreant had rammed a foreign body into his unsuspecting keyhole.

The more prurient of the pack enquired further, while the rest departed.

Wotzoff

ABERDEEN HASH HOUSE HARRIERS

RUN NO. 1579

14 OCTOBER 2012

GARLOGIE

HARE - BALLERINA

SCRIBE - THE PENGUIN

Shite start in pissing rain with cars squeezed into very limited car park on road side, however, enough space allowed a circle to present two awards:

50 run shirt to ?? and

800 run throne to Olymprick for whom congratulations despite the fact that he has not been seen running for the past ten years.

Thanks also for half a warm macaroni & cheese pie before the run (energy food). Having stood around in the rain getting cold the least the hare could have done was give us directions to the run start to allow us to warm up but no - he leaves us standing around a check waiting for someone in front to call "On On". Tip to future Hares. Get the F.....g run started before messing about with checks especially in winter time!

The start of the run ie when it did eventually start, was west into an area with two water ditches of unfathomable depth which gave those who held back a bloody good laugh and those who tested the water a very wet dip. Top prize goes to Goat Wrestler who thought he'd be smart and use the perfectly positioned rail sleeper to cross but had not realised that having been there some time had gathered a fair thickness of slimy moss. His triple back flip earned top marks, but entry to water a dismal failure. He turned back to his car never to be seen again but the rest, after controlling their laughter, carried on to a bloody good run through much virgin territory tripping over newly felled timber and splashing through very muddy tracks. The beer stop was strategically placed very close to home base which explains why Numbskull easily found his way there well before the front runners.

The circle was not exactly round but was extremely tight and misshapen as were most of its constituents but this led to lively banter with Aids doing a superb job as RA. Can't remember much of the detail but Olymprick now has a new facebook photo as a gnome sitting in his throne fishing for beer. Welcome to Phlonker from Nelson H3 in New Zealand which is part of Australia. Scabby Arse told us the tale of one time when in hospital Jimmy Saville bounced him up and down on his knee to make them both feel good. The name Scabby Arse is now all the more appropriate. Because a wet pen on wet paper does not work the rest became a blur as no notes were taken but I do remember the Hare/GM, Ballerina, welcomed everyone back to wreck his new home but the scribe had other duties to perform.

Van der Merwe had never been out of South Africa before. In Australia, on his first holiday abroad, he decided to spend an afternoon visiting Bondi Beach.

As he sat there looking over the sea he saw a long line of black dots out in the water and said to an Aussie who happened to be sitting close by

"What are all those little black things out there?"

"They're buoys, Mate," said the Aussie.

"Boys? You serious?" said Van der Merwe, "what are they doing out there?"

"Holding up the shark net," the Aussie told him.

"Bloody Great Country!" said Van der Merwe, deeply impressed. "We'd never get away with that at home these days!

A very loud, unattractive, hard-faced woman walks into Kmart with her two kids in tow, screaming obscenities at them all the way through the entrance.

The door greeter says, 'Good morning and welcome to Kmart, nice children you've got there. Are they twins?'

The fat ugly woman stops screaming long enough to snarl: 'Of course they bloody aren't! The oldest is nine and the youngest is seven. Why the hell would you think they're twins?..... Do you really think they look alike, you d*ck head?'

'Absolutely not,' replies the greeter, 'I just can't believe anyone would shag you twice!'

Summary: Run at Corrennie Wood near Millbank, Alford Road.

Weather good with some sunshine.

FiFi and JC as Hares. Medium run through woods. Sweetie stop and beer stop. Circle with many down downs and much merriment. Three awards for

400 runs Sharnie,

100 Runs for Leeky Willie,

555 for Mrs T.

Important! Read on only if you are not operating machinery.

The circle was called the GM "Ballerina" took centre stage and commented on Friday's social night and how some were telling stories all night and people like that should make good scribes as they are there from the beginning to the end so for sticking it out till 3.30am with Cockatool and not forgetting Helen who's house we were invited to at the end of the night, I got the job of scribe.

Ballerina asked if there were any returners or new runners Mrs Splinter (Poodle) in Aberdeen due to Selwyn's demise. New runner Doug, friend of Eee Eky Thumps with a bit of eyebrow lifting and calls that he was a different one from last week!

Ballerina then went on to speak about what happened in the year 1577 nothing much other than Francis Drake set out from Plymouth on 15 November 1577, but bad weather threatened him and his fleet. They were forced to take refuge in Falmouth Cornwall, from where they returned to Plymouth for repair. After this major setback, he set sail again on 13 December, aboard Pelican, with four other ships and 164 men. Ballerina said if you want to know the rest of the story you will have to wait and you won't have to come back next week or the week after that but 1580! "Oh, the suspense!"

At that a convoy was noticed coming up the hill where upon the posse formed a circle with their wagons and LW, Cockatool, SW, OL, FireFlaps, IC and Struth joined the hash. Order was resumed and Leeky Willie and Cockatool took to the circle with a sugar puff box and bag of puff soled socks. FireFlaps was given a down down for being the culprit of the sugar puffs war at Montrose which came after the Jelly and Teabag wars. Sock were placed over trainers with calls of "New shoes." fiercely denied by Cockatool. I've worked it out since he bought 10 pairs the same hoping we wouldn't notice when he changes them.

Hares FiFi and JC took the circle with and JC went over the object of the game mainly for benefit the new runner and Numbskull, there was great emphasis on the distance the beer and sweeties were from the stop, within 10 metres! Four and you're on!

Off we went, some looking tired even as we started, a long run was being anticipated. Running with T-Rex Cock we witnessed what must be turbo charge in human form when Bog Brush accelerated past us. I went wrong at the first check, my own fault for not listening to Little Shit who said left through the trees instead I followed Cockatool along the track to the croft house, when three spots were mistaken for 4 on on was called only to be cancelled soon after.

Back on trail through the wood and uphill a few stumbles and falls by the hash over the bracken. We emerged from the wood at a tarred road after a short way there was a gate where Cockatool was throwing shiggy at Gay Gordon and all, sneaked by while Little Shit waded through the puddles a man who just doesn't care and a founder mud slinger. (Is Cockatool his son???)

Over another gate and an open space gave us some beautiful views over Aberdeenshire. Even the small wind turbine looked in place. Electric fences crossed and the flour petered out. On On was being called down the hill a little shortcutting seemed in order as Little Shit said he had not been well at training yesterday. He said he had a bug and that was why his on-board compass/GPS navigation system had stopped working. We all thought he was always a front runner due to his speed. FB as he would say.

After crossing the roughest field I've seen with 6 ft channels along it looking like something out of WW1 Somme, Jem pulling Whinger On On (seemingly Jem is fluent in Hash!), we came to the sweetie stop the tin was a scaled down 1000:1 10 metres from the stop, what do you expect from an architect. I held back with the hare JC thinking the huge hill the rest of the hashers were climbing would be a back check. No such luck and off I went up this HUGE hill through my favourite tree the Scots Pine. A number of hashers were off track here.

Just as we came out of the wood and onto a track FireFlaps emerged from the other wood far too thick to run through. Looking a little embarrassed and saying "that's better". When you got to go you got to go.

A little bit more wood some more mudslinging by Cockatool who caught me a beaut across the face, FireFlaps sustaining some damage too, On beer was shouted.

Cockatool took off like a gazelle only to fall like he had taken bullet for King and Country. Splat into the heather, teach him for messing with the scribe.

Good selection of beer and soft drinks, Sun beaming down and some of the hashers sun bathing, Tiger Feet and Ballerina (?) arriving from the wrong direction saying they had been abandoned at a check after checking a lost trail each.

Along a narrow track through woods took us out at a farm track just a short way from the cars.

The circle was quickly called, I grabbed a pencil and paper for the note taking. Meanwhile Numbskull handed me a chair and said I should be sat in the circle if I'm Scribe, sorry smelled a rat here and refused.

Canny be Arsed was RA and described Friday's social night, How we had met in Cafe D'ag and then moved on singing La La Bamba in snake fashion up Crown Terrace where La Bamba was according to our social sex FireFlaps. Then there was only what you might call a game of "hunt the restaurant" up and down the street hashers looked, on the internet via phones, "it's number 23" "no it's not" let’s ask someone, the door staff did not know, the poor guy in the street didn't know. "Well it used to be here?"

Eventually after lots of guessing, amusement and ribbing FireFlaps phoned the number of restaurant she had booked and the owner said he would come to the door and find us. Ah “Nirvana Gentleman's Club and Indian restaurant" was where FireFlaps had booked. Up the stairs we trouped past a few curtains which we would realise later was "Where the magic happened" (quote by staff when Sir Deadmund Hillary asked). Lucky for us the place was empty and after a bit of hesitation we sat down for an Indian. The bill to be split unless you asked otherwise. It turned out to be slightly pricey but worth every penny memorable night. Down Down for FireFlaps and sporting her horn helmet she had acquired on the night she admitted it was a well-deserved DD.

About now I rubbed my arm and some of the mud slung at me earlier fell to the ground this would been unimportant if I had not been next to the filled DD beer tankards so sorry about the extra bits in the DD beer. Hippo stopped me scratching.

DD for Cockatool for dancing on stage with the lap dancers and getting no money, next time he should only dance like that behind a modesty curtain.

Cockatool then proceeded to say how there was some debate over who was his father, he knew his mother that was FireFlaps but the father could have been any of 4 hashers, someone shouted he's not human! Leeky Willie, Little Shit, Barbarella and Numbskull were the suspects and the winner of the Down Down would decide.

Unfortunately for Cockatool the 4 fathers conspired to throw the beer over him so he is still in the dark about his parentage and so are the CSA!

DD for lost property, finest wool glove of High Maintenance.

DD for Drillbit for his liking and Sir Deadmund Hillary for photography of Eee Eky Thump's red high heeled shoes which were too small for her, Shoe Fettish.

ET gave Canny be Arsed a down down for his line to Desperately Seeking Dick when she explained her hash name means Desperately Seeking Dick at the Friday meal " I'm not a Dick but I am a Willie!" one Willie drinks all Willies drink.

• 100 Runs T shirt for Leeky Willie and SW

• 400 runs T for Sharnie Dubs

• 555 Shorts for Mrs T (protests from Numbskull he didn't get a 555, with Drillbit owning up to the oversight)

Leeky Willie thought we had started issuing black everything since Cockatool had become a member!

Little Shit called in claiming the 30th T shirt/present competition had been won by him, TF, for forgetting at the A-B run LW, FireFlaps, Cockatool, Toy Boy and Little Shit for having rubbish designs according to Little Shit.

DD for Graham who happens to be Cockatool step Dad, as he was given a Hash name of Dribbling Cock, at that one cock all cocks was shouted and Cockatool and T-Rex Cock stepped in to join Dribbling Cock.

Then Leeky Willie told the story of how Cockatool had bought a hedge trimmer on ebay and then having no transport had asked Leeky Willie to pick it up for him and bring it to the next Hash, well he kept forgetting and eventually Ruth and Leeky Willie called at the address to collect the hedge trimmer and as they were handed it and turned to walk away the seller said " Wait a minute, it not been paid for".

DD for Cockatool.

Leeky Willie then went on to talk about how Friday night at 3.30 am Cockatool gets him up and asks to stay the night and then again on Saturday 3am wake-up at which his girlfriend decided to leave. Reminded him of an old song " Rhode Island Red" with Lyrics basically " Has anyone seen my Cock"!

Sharnie being dragged into the circle to feel his two enormous woggles hanging down.

DD for Leeky Willie for his song.

Returner Poodle and the new virgin hasher Doug friend of Eee Eky Thump DD,

The Hares JC and FiFi, DD's.

Next came Leeky Willie claiming that Cockatool was stupid, how stupid you need to be to pick a mud fight with Gay Gordon! Built like a brick shit house he is. Not only throw shiggy at Gay Gordon but also his girlfriend Red Stripe! "Lucky he didn't have his head off." At this point Cockatool was brought into the circle and made to kneel down at which point Gay Gordon appeared with the petrol engine hedge trimmers Leeky Willie had picked up Cockatool. Gay Gordon then acting cutting his head off.

Not happy with that, Leeky Willie decided to start up the trimmers and have us all panicking as he brought the blade closer and closer to Cockatool neck.

Next week’s run by Ballerina at Garlogie, On Inn, BBQ at JC's and FiFi's with ever efficient JC handing out maps of how to get there.

What: Aberdeen Hash House Harriers Run #1576

When: 30th September 2012

Who: Hares Pigiron & Stainless

Where: Witches T*t

Why: Nothing better to do!

This was my 3rd or 4th visit to the infamous Witches Tit and easiest the mildest which resulted in a large turnout of between 45 and 50. New GM Ballerina soon whipped us into shape and after welcoming:

TOYBOY from Qatar

HELEN and CHRISTINA two new runners

Then informed us nothing of consequence really happened in 1576 except for a few fisticuffs between the Spanish and the Belgians and so with nothing further to do we were ready for off!......

but wait a minute some prestigious awards first –

BABERELLA receiving a 50 run ghastly yellow shirt

INTENSIVE CLARE received a far more sleek 100 run sweatshirt in sexy black and

THRUPENNY BITS received a beautiful silver peanut tray for 750 runs a big well done to you 3 from all at AH3!

So ONON we went into the Aberdeenshire countryside in search of flour! The usual chaos followed - walkers heading off in one direction - runners searching and running around in all directions trying to establish something resembling a trail. Muff Diver was caught being very lazy at one check with hands on hips! His excuse, “I ran with Mearns hash yesterday and it was a long one!" not a fine example to show new virgin runners Helen and Christina who could not quite believe the names they were hearing and wondering " Who on earth are these crazy people?”

According to The Penguin only 3 people including himself followed the whole trail and as GM Ballerina and myself short cutted straight across 2 fields to the beer stop on the horizon I have no reason to argue. The beer stop presented some beautiful views of the countryside and eventually everyone arrived safely back. There was the usual distribution of shiggy to many from the irritating COCKATOOL our new RA who led us back a short distance to form a circle!

The circle was a lively affair with COCKATOOL and LITTLE SHIT having a lovers tiff in a muddy puddle followed shortly by Montrose jelly being thrown in all directions and physically rubbed into LITTLE SHITS hair for the second weekend on the trot!

Notable Down Downs went a little like this...

1. Barbarella, 3bits and Intensive Clare Award winners

2. Lost property in Montrose Sharnie & Struth Deodorant & toothpaste (I think this is where the jelly was shared on the circle!)

3. Hash Christening of Stonehaven Susan... from this day on to be known as LUV NEST!

4. Rubbish Tipper GM Ballerina (Took last week’s rubbish all the way from Aberdeen to Montrose!)

5. Stained dress FireFlaps

6. Announcement from Hippo & Tonto...

The Torridon Beer Festival, 12th to 14th October

Where's Torridon? About 3.5 hours via Inverness.

Where are we staying? Its your choice. There is camping on the spit by the beach - walking distance to the pub, in the woods up the Glen - you will want a bike to get to the pub. There is a youth hostel. There are several B&B's, search in Torridon. There are rooms at the Inn, though they may be selling out. What are we going to do between bouts of heavy beer drinking? There are several epic Munro's, a handful of Corbetts, some gentler hills, some fearsome road biking round Applecross, and the Hotel is running activities too. See their programme with the beer festival. If you are interested contact one of us direct: Hippo: howardhroper@tiscali.co.uk Tonto: phil_townsend@btinternet.com Hippo 01330 833688 Tonto 01224 791152

7. Announcement from ON SEX FireFlaps...

Hash Social - October 2012

Friday 5th of October 2012 8:00PM

Let's start a new hash year with a BANG (or at least a tequila hangover) at La Bambas on Friday 5th October - 8pm

Those who feel a little thirsty beforehand can meet me in Cafe D'ag on Crown Street from 7pm

20 seats have been reserved so far so please let FireFlaps know if you are coming to bagsie one of ‘em!

FireFlaps (Sarahn-h@hotmail.co.uk or 07743 065829

8. ASSTIFTY not ASSTIITTY Drillbit (Drillbit turned up on the Fouth Thursday of the month a week late!)

9. No sex life T REX COCK (something about his wife never coming!)

10. 5-3 8-8 betting exploits of OLYMPRICK!

11. Pink hash wear! KOJE BELLE & LIPSTICK (a pleasing sight I`m sure for all the harriettes to see LIPSTICK in underpants!)

12. Announcement EE ECKY THUMP will now look forward to. Receiving all 3bits e mails being the new ONSEC

13. Visitor and new runners TOYBOY, HELEN & CHRISTINA

14. Competition... LITTLE SHIT had several Hashers bending down on one leg for some reason!

14. HARES PIG IRON & STAINLESS

I`m sure great fun was had by all, well done the hares and all who attended.

Unfortunately somewhere between run 1575 and 1576 Aberdeen H3 lost an ex GM...

SELWYN "RENT A BRAIN" ROBERTS

A final DOWN DOWN was dedicated to the "selwyn Appreciation society" by Aids, Hippo, Tonto, Twizzle, WaTzoff, and BRUCE ALMIGHTY & Olymprick

RIP SELWYN

Leeky Willie

Run 1575

Montrose Railway Station

Hares: - Cockatool and Leeky Willie

Well if the events of the preceding evening were anything to go by, this was going to be an incident packed run.

The Montrose 10

Saturday evening saw a gathering in Montrose of those of us too lazy to get up early enough on Sunday to get there for 10.45. In no particular order, we had crammed into Cockatool’s pokey little (17 room, 3 storey) flat :-

Cockatool himself

Leeky Willie

Struth

Little Shit

Sharnie

Bruce Almighty

Barbarella

Skinny Witch

OneLiner

And FireFlaps.

The Montrose 3

As the evening progressed it became clear that FireFlaps, Leeky Willie and the young Cockatool himself had a marginally different agenda from the rest of us present. You kinda had to be there, but suffice to say that the sight of Cockatool hoovering jelly into his dry Vax; mixing it with all the dust, fluff, hair etc. already in there was one which will live long in the memory. As will the hair- gel(ly) effect modelled by said jolly jelly threesome and Little Shit too.

The Montrose 2

Despite several attempts by many of us at making the evening last forever, morning eventually broke to find Cockatool himself also temporarily broken. This was as a result of Leeky Willie and 'Flaps well intentioned re-positioning of all dangerous objects at a safer height for toddlers. (Note to would be parents - ceiling height is very safe for both carrots and condiments).

The Montrose 1

Finally, just before we departed for the run, Leeky Willie ran a sweep to see which of us could predict the number of AH3 Hashers who would join us at the Station. And here began a day, which although dominated by Cockatool's run itself, had elements of The Leekster's antics shot through the whole proceedings, like the wobbly lettering in a stick of Seaside Rock.

Well, 13 others turned up, meaning 23 AH3 runners in total. So I won the sweep fair and square. Pedants will doubtless point to the fact that Cockatool's flatmate also put in an appearance, but:-

He's not AH3 (yet anyway); and

He arrived after the count was completed, thereby rendering himself illegitimate from inclusion in the democratic proceedings.

Naturally I celebrated by volunteering to be Scribe. Some will say that my hand was raised only to swat away an uninvited wasp entrant to the (mainly) human gathering; but to those of you who would place this entirely fictitious spin on the clear facts of the case, I say only this. Some of us know the true meanings of the words “service” , “duty” and “honour” in modern day Hashing.

• 50 Run t-shirt awarded to new GM Ballerina and

• 150 for Toy Boy Tom.

Pre-run down downs to them too.

Then began a somewhat unusual day for AH3.

First, some of our members racked up a fine of approx. £10,000 from the railway authorities; before Adolf Stationmaster prevented the rest of us of us from crossing his special white line. This was despite a finely constructed argument from Leeky Willie to the effect that we hadn't been planning to cross the line; merely to run perpendicular to it, in order to reach the safety of the rocks. However this didn’t take the game into extra time and when the whistle blew it was still Adolf Stationmaster 1- Leeky Willie 0.

Cockatool to the rescue, showed us the alternative way forward. There's always a way around a jobsworth. This one took us about half a mile around Adolf. So over the distant footbridge it was, for us to join up with the trail again.

Well, let the aimless meandering begin!

With the notable exception of Cinders, there appeared to be a general reluctance to actually run. This was of course partly inspired by major hangovers amongst the Montrose 10 / 3 / 2 / 1, but also due to the fact that there were on-run down-downs to be found. No-one was going to be rushing past those in a hurry.

So with Gay Gordon providing the eye-candy and myself the musical accompaniment, we began to meander on-masse through parts of the town, to what may well have been the consternation of the local population. Outside Lidl, someone had apparently fled before us, leaving a carrier bag for me to scoop up as a selfless act of litter collection. Imagine my surprise to find a fine new pair of black socks and an unopened bottle of mineral water where I'd expected to find only some discarded sweetie wrappers in the bag. Much like Christmas on the old Leith farmstead in years gone by.

A few short yards further on and some old codger was so confused by our appearance at the roadside that he stopped his car on the green-light and moved forward only when it turned red. This alarmed Skinny Witch somewhat - as she was on the crossing in front of him when he made his mistake. Just for the barest moment I thought that all those life insurance premiums were going to come good. But she was too quick on her feet for the pay-out to arrive.

Onward, around the BMX track, beyond some worried looking dog walkers and over the disused airfield. Taking full advantage of the acres of long, flat straight available, the pack picked up speed somewhat. Soon, we were thundering along at what must have been - oh, nearly walking pace. However that burst of enthusiasm was soon dampened by the sudden appearance of a large sand-dune in front of us. This also coincided with a complete loss of trail.

Soon we were back at a land speed which saw us struggling to overtake a jellyfish at the beach. And it was dead on the sand. Nevertheless, the additional bunching of the pack caused by our sluggish pace afforded Gay Gordon the opportunity to disappear into the crowd before, moments later, exploding forth to pounce on the hapless Cockatool and dump him in a sea pool. All recent victims of the Cock’s fondness for shiggy throwing viewed this as a generally positive development. But it came at cost. By the end of the skirmish, a sufficient quantity of flour had found its way onto Gay Gordon's head that he looked like an advert for Gay Grandad Porn. Or a Honda rider.

Shortly afterwards we came upon the sad sight of a broken- down Bruce Almightyby the side of the road. But Aids the Rescue Truck was at hand to save the day, so like the deeply caring friends we are, the rest of us all buggered off in search of the end of the run and left him to it.

Now ... well ... ... the end of the run.........

That was something a bit unusual too. You see, right at the moment when it became clear that the search for any flour beyond Gay Gordon’s hair had become a pointless activity, Cockatool possibly should have herded the (lost) pack in the direction of the beer check. But he didn't bother. So, with the notable exception of Pigiron (who probably never made it more than 400m from base anyway) every single one of the Montrose 23 (24 including the non- AH3 flatmate) found themselves playing out the final chase scene from every episode of Benny Hill.

Cue the saxophone music ... ... ...

Front gate.

Garden.

Front door.

Front gate.

Car Park.

Front gate.

Sheds, but with the wrong keys.

Garden.

Sheds, but with the wrong keys again.

Garden.

Front gate.

And then; out of the sun, a stranger with a Tesco trolley full of beer trundled down the street to save the day. Maybe a pity we didn’t get to it at the picturesque harbour-side setting intended, but to us, at the moment of his arrival, Cockatool looked even prettier than the Montrose basin.

Garden again. This time for the Circle. And Leeky Willie's Flotsam & Jetsam Olympics.

In no particular order, Down Downs awarded by new RA Cockatool to:-

• Pigiron, for finding the beer check. Truly this Highlander IS the only one.

• Little Shit, for his Jelly inspired “Adrian from The Young Ones “hairstyle.

• Myself, for telling the world's funniest joke - ever.

• Gay Gordon (this one from The Leekster), for Paralympic bravery in the face of a truly life hreatening scratch. We bikers are REAL tough cookies.

• Bruce Almighty, for his bravery in the face of a (clearly) multiply broken ankle.

• Little Shit again, Gay Gordon again, Sharnie and 'Flaps for their outstanding Yorkshireness on the day.

• Cockatool (again from Leeky ) , for losing his tool.

• Red Stripe, for finding a tool. Ooer missus.

• Cockatool from Bruce, for losing his cool after Leeky Willie and 'Flaps early morning child safety initiative.

• Little Shit again, for missing his on-run-Down-Down.

• Barbarella, for pouring an extra beer. Don't let this man count your change.

• And the Hares, for setting a truly “interesting” run!

Special thanks to Cockatool for opening up his home to the marauding masses for the weekend and for his outstanding hospitality throughout.

On On.

OneLiner.

AGPU

Run Number: 1574

Annual General Piss Up

Hare: Cinders & Tiger Feet

Location: Dunecht to Tillybrig Wood (Well felt like it was all the way to Comers)

Scribe: Twizzle

The last of 2012 summer season Monday nights had shortly passed ending with run 1573 ending in such a gloomy circle that it was difficult picking on the guilty or those that ought to be punished. It was so dark that the scribe nipples lost his pencil so we are unlikely to record the excellent trail, or hospitality at the On In, and the impromptu RA of Cockatool with Leaky and others. Still that was 6 days past and we had greater checks and trails to break.

As the anticipated day grew closer the last minute mismanagement arrangements and E Mail hummed between the committee and others on arrangements, dress code and other last minute preparations it seem so well organised what could go wrong?

Now GM was trusted with a couple of items and additionally volunteered to help with some food intending to delegate this to Gusset. Alas the memory of the GM and art of delegation was not practised well at home so GM then toddled off to pick up food with motor cycle. Of course it would have been handy to bring a bag along to carry the things. So GM returned with 2 carrier bags of pork pies and Quiches attached to the triumphs handlebars. Needless to say apart from a bit of battering they all made it. Cutting them up into sections who of you lot noticed?

Now there is a certain prestigious award that is annually most sought after. A lifelong achievement for any hasher is to have your handle, inscribed on this seat of honour, but where was it? At 2011 AGM Farmer was the proud bearer of this award and promised faithfully to restore the seat to its former glory. Alas with the Mannofield farm house closing down, the seat was then passed on to the GM at run 1539, unfortunately that day GM did not any transport so it was forwarded to another hasher for safe keeping, now who was it? BT shares soared as the copper cables hummed with the GMs efforts to trace this AH3 artefact, eventually it was located deep within Hash beers garage. So of course then it would be brought to the ON ON! But on the day oh S***t I left it in the Kitchen.

Luckily Numbskull cashed in the last of 2012 brownie points and coerced "is it the dragon" to meet 2 Moons who now was diverted from the food preparation to bring it to the ON IN. Got away with that Numbskull so you think?

Tiger Feet turned up at the ON ON with the hash wagon full of beer and food then emerging with a senior moment suddenly recalled that he had not brought all the meat for the barbeque. It was looking good for vegetarians then. Fortunately Two Moons was now diverted to not only pick up the seat, but also the meat. Saving Tiger Feet’s reputation at least for today!

Now for those that have been to a few of these AGPU will recall that a certain item of furniture is required to give the circle speaker some credibility, somewhere to hide the crib sheets along with a place to stand a couple of beers. Last seen at 2011 AGM at Tonto’s the GM at last committee squabble was entrusted to locate and arrange transport to bring it along. This task was quickly consigned to item 517 of the never to be completed action items for tomorrow. Of course it managed to turn into a round TOIT and the communication to Tonto never got delivered. It’s believed to still be at Tonto’s, unless it’s been eaten by rodents or environmentally recycled into ash. You may not be so lucky next year GM.

The day looked as though it would start well for some of us, Twizzle , Sir Deadmund Hillary, Son + Pal, Prickly bush, and Binliner all on bus pick up point at Cults. Incidentally all of whom live West of Cults traffic lights. We all asked why was the bus pick up then at the bus stop east of the Cults hotel? At least an extra 500m on the days distance, the Library would have been so much more convenient.

Still at least Bus was on time, and all Hashers booked on the bus made it not like some other years. The pack arrived in ample time for a circle, much to the bewilderment of the Dunecht residents. The Hares advises that a 10:30 start was necessary as we needed a lot of time to complete the run ominous, never mind that a few hashers travelling in cars had not arrived, and runs traditionally kick off at 11.00. Too bad if you turned up late then!

The pack was called to order with the familiar bellow of form a circle. Twizzle reminded the pack that it was important to record this day in Hash history and that almost 50 % of runs went unpublished or are they censored? This time rather than pick on someone with learning issues in the writing box, he called for a volunteer scribe a stony silence was returned. He briefly thought of suggesting a vote or charges but instead he decided it was best to accept justice for previously not publishing 1552 he would do it himself. Better publish this to get off the hook then.

Handing over to the RA (Aids) who already had so much ammunition and choices, promptly awarded Twizzle the pre run down down. The hares were then invited to roll out the day’s delights. First we had a risk assessment, tool box talk and safety briefing. This was followed by a detailed list of do & don’ts when passing entering the Dunecht estate. The major hazard being some well hung bull. Of course this excited all the Harriet’s particularly those sporting bright orange tops. Tonto declared his red T shirt would be ideal for attracting the bull as long as he had a slower runner just behind "bait" sprang to mind .A brief explanation of the checks including a fish hook and 360 check that I don’t recall passing, but so what. A new addition was a cut-off point that supposedly "slow runners" would be directed on to short cut to the Bus so we arrived on time.

The pack was then released onto the estate, a 50 strong herd charging along the estate roads and across hard trails. Despite all the residents being informed several dog minders were put out. One was heard to comment that "my dog does not understand what is going on" Perhaps his dog could not read or maybe we need to brush up with barking notices for the poor confused dogs. Pretty quickly the pack spread out wide with the FRB disappearing out of sight only to be caught up again defeated by the next cunning check. The trail split for walkies and non walkies. Several checks later we were drifting around into a wood and were treated to the delights of glorious shiggy and a river crossing. Cockatool played well semi submerged in the cool water gradually losing a shiggy war 50:1 Fire flaps offered herself up as target practice, the sacrifice to make the orange top less attractive a target for the well-endowed bull. A significant number of hashers had obviously trained for this Olympic sized leap, but some decided on wet feet rather than strained ankles, requiring assistance up the opposite bank.

A couple of checks later and this time Cockatool decided that the shaggy in his boot was a little uncomfortable so removed his boot handing it to little shit, well we could not miss an opportunity for a spot of rugby with fireflaps going for a try and now hopatool gradually reduced to trying to hop along to the next check he avoided all helpful advice of removing the other boot to stop going in circles. The question now was where was the missing boot? After a reasonable period of piss taking much to the amusement of the walkies who had re-joined us taking the boot was eventually returned leaving Cockatool well at rear of the pack.

Shortly after this we were cooled by a shower of rain, several hashers spotted taking cover under trees, Harley for one! And some walkies erected umbrella’s you know who you are, why did you bother (I say name & shame).

Now after this we met the hare advising that to proceed on at this point was 45 minutes running time while somewhere near the rear of the pack at the point, I was not tempted to short cut, but as we headed up a hill soon started to regret my bravado. This was only diminished by Aids, Tonto and Barbarella all echoing similar sentiments. Well the trail twisted and turned heading west out of the estate and into the hills pass forest with several fallen trees as hurdles for rear end donkeys. Another opportunity for a short cut was advised this time aids resolve crumbled and Tonto myself and Barbarella followed the trail. We briefly saw some hashers who had followed the false trail up to Barmekin hill and were still running noticed one liner &skinny in that select pack. At this point Tonto was convinced this was an A to Barbeque and declared that it was only 3 or so miles to Comers bring it on. I was wondering what 45 minutes of running translated to our pace. Well eventually we came to what appeared a deserted quarry after nearly missing the trail backtracking and going to the right through a small wood we summited the last hill to drop down to road just as the hare was sending a search party. There was the Bus! Damm the Beer stop by this time had been well emptied and our thirst remained unsatisfied. Overall a great trail at least 10 miles although I confess it felt a bit more must be getting older then.

Normal ribbing on the bus ensued, FireFlaps apparently losing her Pink support underwear. No idea what happened at the front or the back. I briefly lost my shirt, followed by a general good level of snipping and ribaldry all around. There was a short ride to the ON IN at Scabies country residence for a most magnificent feast and quite essentially some fine beer.

I don’t believe that anyone could complain at the quantity and quality of the beer burgers salad and sweets etc. Seemed to be ample grub left over at the end, despite several revisits by Sergio and others including this scribe. Scabby Arse manning the giant barbecue and 2 Moons in the kitchen had the 50 + HASHERS WELL STUFFED.

On to the business of the day, this year’s awards, the all essential down downs and election of the new committee. Apologies if I missed anyone off here, you can always complain to the committee to have the scribe sheet amended. A small ladder was converted to a makeshift lectern making those of us a little vertically challenged appearing as giants addressing a circle of midgets. Amazing really that not one of us fell, or was pushed off.

First off was my GM address truly a magnificent oration, recalling the magnificent runs, the swelling of the pack and generally AH3 appearing in good shape, followed by particular thanks to today’s Hares: Cinders &Tiger Feet for a great trail organizing the buses, dealing with the landowners.

Followed by thanks to the magnificent catering crew Two Moons and Scabby Arse for letting us trample his garden down. The RA followed and awarded well-earned down downs to the above.

Next followed Hash cash with a comprehensive review of the finances and having the foresight to issue to each of us on the bus a breakdown of the in-goings and outgoings. Olymprick of course raised a couple of minor points! Sharnie did a good job of keeping us straight.

Next up were the eagerly awaited awards this was orated by the elegant Aids awarding the customary down downs IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER the awards went to:

• Most runs: Sharnie 48, Little Shit 46, and Struth 45

• Most hares this year: Toy Boy Tom– 4, Cinders – 4, Sharnie &Little Shit – 3 Ballerina – 3

• Best Runs: Red Stripe &Gay Gordon, Ballerina, Sergio

• Worst Runs: Toy Boy Tom, Twizzle

• Best Scribes: Sweetness, Leaky Willie, Barbarella

• Worst Scribes: Aids, Numbskull, Scabby Arse

• FRB: Bog Brush, Numbskull (Old fart award)

• Short Cutting: Numbskull, Sir Deadman Hillary

• Hash Crash: Twizzle

• Best ON IN: Glasgow & Sir Deadman Hillary

• Best Beer Check: Careless

• Worst Beer Check : Little shit

• Stand-in RA: Leaky Willie, Scabby Arse

• Olympic Stand In: Toy Boy Tom

• Themed Run: Olymprick, Wotsoff, Toy boy tom

• Hash Complaint: Whatsoff

• 60th Run: Hippo

• Car Bashing: FireFlaps

And the highly fought over seat of Honour "Hash Shit" was awarded to Cockatool for generally being an arse through the year.

The previous committee then stood down for a well-earned rest and awarded themselves a down down to: Twizzle, Aids, Olymprick, Thrupenny bits, Leaky Wille, Sharnie, and Numbskull.

Little Shit then took the opportunity to address the pack at the circle, with an impassioned plea to think how the AH3 Hash funds and run fees should be distributed such that the bank balance did not grow further. He advised that we should all think about how the Hash accumulated cash should be spent and talk to the committee members with your particular feelings or suggestions on this point.

OneLiner now suitably attired in graduation gown mounted the ladder at top step and undertook the master of ceremony for the election of the AH3 2012-2013 committee, I recall the following hashers were elected to serve:

• GM: Ballerina

• RA: Aids Cockatool

• Hash Cash: Cinders

• On Sec: Eee Eky Thump Thump

• Head Hare: Toy Boy Tom

• Social Secs: FireFlaps &Trouser Shredder

• Haberdasher: Walky Talky

• Hash Beer: Tiger Feet, Barbarella & Hippo

With Sweetness being nominated as a Songmaster.

The new committee then rose to occasion but in the confusion of charges and counter charges. OneLiners performance on the steps was overlooked if his day job dry’s up, or he gets bored with the transactions I am sure there will be an opportunity at His Majesties.

More down downs followed and were awarded thus at least those that I remember.

• Olymprick: Pissing on post

• Cockatool & FireFlaps: Mud slinging

• OneLiner, Skinny Witch, Watsoff, Toyboy: Tripping on run

• Leaky Willie, Gay Gordon: Can’t remember why?

• The Penguin, Struth , Twizzle: Can’t remember why?

• Twizzle: RA attempt’s to repeat last year’s exhibition

• The Penguin, Sabrina, Canna Be arsed, Sergio: Chilly Pie Eating

• Walky Talky, Careless: Can’t remember why?

• Vistors: From Glasgow Hash

• Blade runner: Aberdeen new runner "flashing"

• Right Tit: Denying his handle

There were probably some more charges I missed as my pencil broke so apologies, to any of those who were "Named", or "Shamed" but did not make the roll of honour this time. Never mind do the scribe and ensure you get press coverage.

Well my epic tale has drawn to a close, enclosed is the hares map of where we were supposed to go. Looks like a candidate for an award at 2013 AGM.

It was a cold and quite day as I loaded myself onto the transporter that was to ferry me from Montrose to Aberdeen, but unfortunately problems at port had meant the proposed arrival time had been delayed and so the planned meeting point at George street could not be made if we were to commence battle at the allotted time spot. Instead I had to abandon ship at the Bridge of Dee and forge my way on foot up the A90 to await my landing craft superbly commanded by Commodore Intensive Claire. On arriving at the battle front a stolen shirt (by a fellow leaking comrade!) meant that the circle had to be started with a topless Cockatool! This was nearly awarded the pre-run down down, (instead given a high vis top and war correspondent duty!) however this was awarded to the yellow-bellied Muff Diver who refrained from battle the week before because “it was raining”

The assault was begun to the cries of On-On and on reaching the first check, brave work from Commando Bog Brush in scaling the mighty steep slopes to the left meant that the route was quickly found. After some dastardly checks from Colonel Von Toy Boy Tom which drove the pack down the wrong routes to only be confronted by an evil check-back, the pack arrived at the route split where the light hearted French walkers skipped merrily down the nice path whilst the brave British runners awaited what the evil Colonel Von Toy Boy Tom had in store for them!

A charge was made through deep marshland with water up to the thighs. Some souls attempted to avoid the water by jumping over the high ground, some more successfully than others - Ballerina?! Upon defeating this, the armada was driven onto the road for a long Quick March along the road into Peterculter. The pack were then driven up hill and on spotting a Thains van - the hope was for a cheeky pie stop but unfortunately our luck wasn’t with us - just another dirty back-check from Colonel Von Toy Boy Tom! Upon finally finding the right route a bold move through the forest and along the hilltop allowed us to come upon the sweaty stop - leftover cake from the run the week before - yum!

The pack then drove down a little side street, eventually coming upon a Willie Watzoff half hanging off a bridge clutching onto the beers - which were gladly consumed. A short charge up the hill and along the road (with some people more driven than others!) brought us back to the original start.

On to the decoration ceremony and the first down down went to Bog Brush and Muff Diver (who had fled from the field of battle due to it “getting a bit dark”!) for actually racing in and then celebrating/winging over their position! The next went to Prickly Bush followed by a somber drink for the death of a fallen comrade (Pornochio’s Mother). The returners then had there down downs followed by the two new runners. A joyful song was made by the visitor Tampon about a similar attack (on a slightly smaller scale than what was made today) which got everyone together in a spirit of song and then a drive to the OnInn for more drinks and merriment.

On On for the next battle,

Cockatool

RUN 1571.

HAZLEHEAD PARK

Monday 27th August 2012

Hare: Toy Boy Tom

Scribe: Pigiron

THE HARE WHO LOST HIS HEAD

An angry dawn rose over the Royal Toffs Golf Course presaging the occluded front which was to bring heavy rain and its attendant misery to the North-East. However, at this early hour the day seemed promising as two players trudged up to the first tee. One was a teacher and one a beginner, the latter bubbling with optimism at this his first game since returning from a prolonged absence. Teeing up he took care over his stance and mental preparation before delivering the perfect swing that rewards with the indefinable click of a well struck ball. Suddenly everything changed; the club fell light in his hand and his astonished eyes beheld a glittering metallic object following the soaring flight of his ball. His favourite club had failed; now a useless, headless, expensive stick. The lowering black clouds to the south provide an apt chorus to his misery.

But I digress. Just when it seemed safe to leave the grumpy bunker to re-join the new happy, friendly, supportive, safe, hard-working, inspired and united Britain, Toy Boy Tom vomits the bloody Olympics all over us again with his London 2012-themed hash. Given warning that he planned to include some games in the mix, several senior hashers were noticeable by their absence. As things turned out however, the poor weather forced him to lower his ambitions to a simple live-hare-in-the-rain event, while a few loyal stalwarts made vague attempts to look Olympian and our two Sirens even carried cardboard torches. Very good. The aptly-named Olymprick graciously visited the hash to deliver welcome sustenance before departing ante run to a prior, more pressing, engagement.

Why this distressing theme? Well, unless you happen to be the product of parthenogenesis from the planet Zog, you will know by now that TBT thought it would be a wizard wheeze to volunteer for the London 2012 Olympic Games. No, not to actually run in them, but to help Seb out by ferrying worthy chaps about London. (“I had that Chris Hoy in the back of me cab last week. Couldn’t make out a word he said.”)It would also mean getting to use the 2012 lanes and he would get in free. Huh! He claims it cost him a fortune and he didn’t get see any events. Oh well, on the bright side he is now classed as a Games Maker, but still doesn’t get a pass. Wonderful thing, volunteers. It worked in 1948 and here it is working again. So, 1948 and 2012. Does this mean that the UK only gets the games when it can least afford them? But I digress.

Apparently the run went down Burnie boozle, or some such improbably named route, to the large eyesore wherein TBT doth dwell, there to feast on Paralympics Cake (Oh God, not again) and back via Johnson Gardens. Except, of course, 98% of the hash took its own route and TBT would have been better sending the flour to the deserving AB15 flood victims. Half-time entertainment was selflessly provided by The Penguin who broke his last tooth on the aforementioned cake, occasioning much hilarity (see reference above to the new supportive caring UK big society).

And so the peer wee drukkit lambs assembled for the circle with rapidly gathering darkness providing a suitable counterpoint to some very opaque downs, misdemeanours whose relevance was often lost in mumbled delivery, heckling and abuse.

Announcement: Names in for the AGM run, whether or not you are going on the bus so that parking and food can be organised for those of independent spirit. Volunteers to make food for the BBQ warmly welcomed. See website. Don’tcha just love organisations, like the BBC, that shove everything on the website to save time? But I digress.

Downs:

• Nuisance: for being deaf. (Can this be right? Ed)

• Laxative: for being a clever bastard and following the actual run. (Sad, very sad)

• Nipples: for bringing the hash into disrepute by completing an ultra-marathon, 33 miles and a bit apparently.(Good Grief)

• Drillbit: for being late. (Who made these notes?)

• Laxative: Again, for leaving to dig for black gold in Houston, Tx, USA. (See above)

• Toy Boy Tom: for being the hare again and again and again.

Hash Crashes and Near Misses

Binliner and Mrs Binliner’s hospitality after run 1565 was reportedly cruelly abused when a priceless Swarovski crystal peppermill, specially imported from Kristallweltenstrasse as one of a matched pair, was deliberately smashed by The Penguin in a drunken rage. Unfortunately the insurance scam was compromised when the RA dropped a piece of exhibit A in the circle only to have it bounce in the manner of a Taiwanese fake. The Penguin has promised to pay appropriate reparations starting with a peppercorn-enhanced down.

Speaking of the Sphenisciform, the sympathy of the hash duly goes out to him and his broken tooth; the rotting stump makes it difficult for him to drink a down. (Horrible, most horrible). Sadly, the hare was not admonished for harbouring a dangerous cake.

Little Shit, not one to let sleeping dogs lie, dragged up the past by reminding us of the little contretemps on run 1569 when the well-named Careless wantonly smashed his soft roader into the back of Struth , her car that is. There was also something about Tiger Feet balancing his car on two wheels at the same event. Whether this was deliberate or not is not clear. The hash burst into a neat song. Oh dear.

Finally, well almost, Numbskull was brought forward to explain the circumstances surrounding the losing of his car keys after run 1569 and their subsequent recovery by person or persons unknown. Little Shit knows who dun it.

Leeky Willie called out Intensive Claire for exceeding the speed limit on route to Stonehaven and, worse, not telling her mum. A very thin story, based as it is on the assertion that her German silver dream machine can actually exceed 70 mph. Perhaps the speedo is graduated in kilometres?

And what has all this to do with my first paragraph? That, gentle reader, is the moral of this story.

On On

Hash Number: 1569

Date: Monday 13th of August 2012 7:00PM

Hare: Muff Diver

OnOn: Warren Wood, Durris. Just off South Deeside Road.

OnInn: Old Mill Inn

It’s always difficult to judge how long it will take to get to the start of the hash, and this week was no exception, the loads of traffic across Aberdeen didn’t materialise and we arrived a good 35 minutes early, so why the scribe? A cunning ploy by stand in GM and RA Numbskull - I was stood next to him, so here it is.

The car park is located just off the South Deeside Road, at the turning opposite to the turning to Park Bridge, Drumoak (Druim M'Aodhaig, the ridge of St Aodhag, as some know it), it was easy to keep on the road bearing right and find a hidden blue BMW complete with beer check. Well hidden, “Doh” most early birds used the beer check as a turning point.

Parking was tight, so tight it got me the scribe, as I said earlier, I was crammed in next to Numbskull, all I said to him was "do you want the winner of the next Perth horse race?" and he replied "no thanks, I've only got a small garden." It took while for 50 cars to fit in the space for half that amount, in the meantime Numbskull was getting itchy to start, so decided to get things moving. He asked me to do stand in RA, so I gave it to him for getting everything in the wrong order. Hmmm, I wonder if that’s why I’m scribe, ho hum....

Muff Diver our hare for the evening turned up on a mountain bike, fairly new and shiny - we all viewed this with trepidation, hoping he hadn’t laid the trail on the bike, please say no; bugger, laid by bike. This news was just like a hammer blow to my knees and thighs.

At least we know where the beer check is, or do we?

Off we set up the hill, numerous cunningly laid back checks of varying lengths keeping the FRBs in check.

I was walking behind Cinders ‘and she was telling Intensive Claire about the last mystery A to B she was on and that they decided to run a sweepstake on guessing where they were going..... The driver won £52!

Most of the pack then did a false trail past two fairly large horses, complete with riders; the things you find in the country! At this point Lazy Bastard Son was waxing lyrical about his racing snail and how it was not winning races anymore. So he’d decided to take its shell off to reduce its weight and make it more aerodynamic. Apparently it didn't work, if anything it made it more sluggish.

The calling from the pack was pretty poor and for quite some time Pigiron has been worried that Stainless wasn't hearing as well as she used to and that’s probably why she keeps getting lost. So he asked me about hearing aids and was wondering how to approach the subject. I told him there was a simple informal test the he could do, 'stand about 40 feet away from her, and in a normal conversational speaking tone see if she hears him. If not, go to 30 feet, then 20 feet, and so on until he gets a response.' Easy peasey....

Post run news; after the hash Stainless was at home in the kitchen cooking supper, and Pigiron was in the living room. He reckoned he is about 40 feet away, so asks in what is a normal tone for him “Stainless, what’s for dinner?” No response!

So he moved closer to the kitchen, about 30 feet away, 'Stainless, what's for dinner?' Still no response!

He then moved into the dining room, about 20 feet away and asks again, “Stainless, what's for dinner?' Again he gets no response!

So, he walks up to the kitchen door, about 10 feet away. 'Stainless, what's for dinner?' Again there is no response!

So he walked right up behind her. 'Stainless, what's for dinner?'

'For F*$@ sake, Pigiron, for the FIFTH time, CHICKEN!'

We seemed to get into lots of trees at this point and twist and turn down numerous forest tracks, then out into open fields. We then hit the tarmac and caught up with Thruppeny Bits, I’m never sure how she manages to FRB without actually FRBing. One of life’s strange mysteries! Thruppeny Bits was not so lucky to find Careless in a barn dancing naked in front of a tractor. Thruppeny Bits says, "Oh, no, Careless, what are you doing?" Careless says, "Well me and Walkie Talkie haven't been getting on in the bedroom lately &the therapist recommended I do something sexy to a tractor."

We then hit a crossroads; turn right for the wankers walk and left for the arseholes who should know better. After some scuffing of feet and looking at the ground hoping no one would notice my indecision, I took the latter. Less indecision from The Penguin and Sharnie; who, without a second thought went for the easy option. This was immediately derided by Cinders for their total disrespect of the efforts made by the hare, only later to turn round and take the walk of shame as well!

I then caught up with OneLiner and suggested that he should close the curtains the next time he was making love to his wife (remains nameless as she wasn’t on trail). I’d heard the whole of their street was watching and laughing at him yesterday. OneLiner wasn’t bothered; the laugh was on them, he wasn't even at home yesterday.

We scrambled through more wooded areas and encountered at least another three check backs, it was a good job Nipples and Trouser Shredder were in fine fettle finding them before I arrived at the checks.

Fat Slag was slowing down by this time, something to do with hugs and holding hands with Currently Unnamed. Post hash update; Fat Slag was in the bathroom and Currently Unnamed shouts to her.. "Did you find the shampoo?" She says, "Yes but it's for dry hair and I've just wet mine."

Once out of the woods and back onto tarmac, still not the right road for the beer check, so some red hot calves and on into a country housing estate, skirting a few back gardens and back onto more tarmac. All downhill to the beer check, even Bruce Almightybroke into a high speed waddle when he saw the FRBs emerge through the gap in the wall.

At last, beer check; beer and a choc bar went down well! It was nice to see Enron, High Maintenance, Struth and Walkie Talkie had managed to get at least an hours sun bathing in before the pack managed to arrive.

On back to the cars and a short jumbled up circle hosted by double act Numbskull and Little Shit.

Down Downs (Master of Music performed by Sweetness)

• Thruppeny Bits an exercise in Greek geek.

• Walkie Talkie and Hillary cross dressing.

• Nipples and Trouser Shredder for doing all the back checks and admitting to enjoying it.

• FiFi for bites by strange creature.

• Thruppeny Bits for cliping.

• Sharnie key fobs, doesn’t know which button to press, I disagree (Little Shit)......

• Pigiron and Stainless for something to do with tennis rackets on King Street.

• Stainless for not accepting a lift from Intensive’s dad because she might get a down down.

• Muff Diver for a well set trail, effective use of back checks and a modicum of shaggy.

• Next week’s down downs

• Careless for his reversing skllls, Struth for her parking skills; they kiss, his rear and her front.

• Numbskull for losing his car keys and getting the 4th emergency service out to get him home.

OnOn

You’re “umble scribe

Little Shit

CURSUS MVLXVII

Woods of Logie

Would the rain be persistent or intermittent? Would the mist be patchy or dense? Would anyone else turn up? They did, the rain ceased, the sun came out and, with all the high officers of state absent, substitutes supervised the circle ceremonies and Eee Eky Thump set us off.

Excellent running in unfamiliar ground; tracks, trees, woods, burns, mud, bogs, nettles, fields, paths, downhills, uphill’s and views. And Back checks. Eight of them. Two of them of inordinate length. So ashen faced and distraught was the pack when the frequency and magnitude of the back checks became manifest that they remained clustered in an aimless huddle at every check until the soft hearted Hare took pity and showed them the way. While the FRB’s ran to and fro.

The beer check, in golden evening sun, was in the manicured and extensive grounds of the Hare’s domicile. But the cars were afar. While a hardy handful recrossed Urie Fluvious by a slippery footbridge and sped over fields, past a line of railway trucks with no wheels, past a seedy caff in a derelict bus and so to another welcome beer, the rump of the pack were being conveyed thither by Hare arranged transport.

Usual sort of circle stuff followed. Pornochio announced new fatherhood, Barbarella got scratched by barbed wire, though Hare had pronounced there was no wire on the run. Returner, from a far off jungle, Bungee Fingers was made to kneel in a submissive position and be force fed his down down - has substitute RA Little Shit be reading middle aged Mumsy porn about Mills and Boon bondage?

On Inn was back to Hare’s house for excellent (though veggie) curry and wondrous home baked cakes.

Wotzoff

Le Tour de Ville-Eglise de Skene. 23/07/12

Bonjour tout le monde et bienvenue a l’ocassion plus sportif d’Aberdeen.

The air was thick with anticipation as the sporting elite of North East Grampian assembled in the car park of the Red Star Inn. The participants signed on at the rear of Sharnie’s car and awaited the arrival of the feeding wagon. It duly rolled up and stovies and sausage rolls were consumed with relish.

The Chef de Mission called the assembled teams to order and asked team captains if they had any announcements. Petit Merde said that next year’s tour was progressing nicely despite having no committee, no route, no money and no Maillot Jaune. He appealed for anyone with any artistic talents to send him compromising pictures designs for the precious shirt. Cockatool announced that the Montrose Stage had to be cancelled due to Police concerns - not about the route but the fear of the drunken hordes that might descend on that fair city.

The Maillot Blanc is traditionally awarded to the Best Young Hasher but for some reason the White Jersey was given to More Butt for having completed 200 stages even though it took her 17 years to achieve this pinnacle of sporting excellence. As Eurosport could not send any journalists to cover tonight’s stage Aids appointed Eurosweetness to cover the upcoming excitement.

A foreign dignitary gave the details of the stage in heavily accented English which only Eee Eky Thump, Annie Bollocks and Norman (Scabby Arse) Hunter seemed able to understand. It turned out he was speaking Yorkshirese, not a common tongue used much on the Tour.

And then we were off! The Peleton rolled slowly south to the first sprint (= check) of the night. Teams Barbarella and Muff Diver combined to make a break past the Cemetery and built up a huge lead. Unfortunately they had taken a wrong turn and had to use a lot of energy to catch up with the rest of the Peleton who were busy crossing the busy main road.

A fairly long straight road saw the assorted athletes combining well with lots of discussion of tactics amongst the FRB team. A cry of “On, On” from a breakaway group heading through a typical Aberdeenshire farmer’s field - mud muck and misery - caused the peleton to whirl right.

Upon entering a wood it was noticed that some spoil sport had sprinkled barbed wire across the route in an attempt to deter the athletes. Fortunately no-one was punctured and the tour rolled on - and on and on and......

As the main peloton wound their way through Garlogie Wood Aids made a masterful break to the right followed by a small, select group from the Short Cutters team. They joined up with the members of the Walkie Talkie and Poppy the Dog teams and blazed a trail to the feeding station on the shores of Loch Skene. After stocking up on Allsorts and Gummy Bears this elite group headed off through the jungle stage ahead of the pursuing pack.

Eventually the pursuers caught the leading group with 1 km to go. At their head was Barbarella who had not spotted Loch Skene despite being only 20m from its shoreline at the feeding station. A drug test later showed that he had a banned substance - Liquorice - in his urine.

The whole pack came together at the Beer Feeding Station and the final sprint for the line was probably won by Bog Brush, but by this time no-one cared. The only whinger was Thruppeny Bits who could not find lashings of Ginger Beer. Does she not realise this is a sporting occasion and not a chapter of The Famous Five?

At the post race award ceremony More Butt raced away early with her White Jersey.

Eee Eky Thump and Norman Hunter shared the Polka Dot Jersey with their prominent displays of erect nipples. Norman also disproved the Old Wives’ Tale that too much cycling makes you sterile by announcing his forthcoming entry into the Father’s Tour which sadly involves multiple circuits of the local park pushing a perambulator not a velocipede. Annie Bollocks was chastised for shouting abuse in Aberdeen at a cycling Hippo who unfortunately turned out NOT to be Hippo. [By the Way, the largest growth group amongst cyclists are Mammals - Middle Aged Men in Lycra.]

The exhausted mob then retired to the Red Star for beer and sandwiches already looking forward to next weeks’ time trial somewhere out on the A 96.

Widdly Braggins.

AH3 Run: 1564

Date: 9 July 2012

On On: Don View Car Park, Bennachie

Hare: Little Shit & Sharnie

Scribe: Binliner

This was the only day in July for which the weather forecast was not rain and I was desperately trying to paint the outside of my house, build a veranda across the back of my house and make maximum use of this all too short good-weather-window. I also wanted to go hashing. This did not go down well with Mrs Binliner, who was adamant I should finish the painting first. Fortunately two of my adorable grandchildren, Harry and Ollie were staying with us so I was able to rope in some cheap child labour to help with the painting. So with no time to spare I (nearly) finished the painting, and with the brushes, the grandchildren and myself all still covered in paint , I jumped in the car and sped off to the On-On.

Of course I arrived at Don View car park just after the circle had been called and the GM, Twizzle, was looking for someone to pick-on as scribe. So he picked on someone—me.

Now, the hares had said to bring food for a picnic. So of course being a lazy bunch of hashers nobody brought anything but themselves, which actually was what Little Shit had intended -because WE were the food. Food for the midges. And oh boy were they biting!

Un-deterred by the midges the RA, Eee Eky Thump, took charge and may have awarded some pre run down-downs but I can’t remember coz I was too busy running back to the car for the deet—I may be a just-in-time nerd but at least I come prepared! . All I know is she introduced a charming visitor, Phantom, on holiday from the USA and her unsuspecting virgin companion Paul. Oh, and a Pre run down-down was awarded to Deadmund Hillary for his atrocious parking.

Then it was over to the hares and without further ado we were On-On. The terrain for the run was very pleasant forest trails and if you kept moving the midges weren’t too bad. Whinger did some impressive acrobatics and ended up arse-over-tit in some shiggy-- serves him right for thinking he is still an athlete. The shiggy was too tempting for Cock-a Tool who couldn’t resist splattering it all over Leeky Willie then sprinting ahead to leave poor old Leeky Willie no chance of retaliation.

Quite early into the run there was a very long back-check and soon after that a check at a sign post where one direction was a steep uphill signed “Mither Tap”. Now knowing what a sadistic bastard Little Shit is I had no doubt that that would be the correct choice so of I plodded up hill to get a head start on the rest of the pack. Two hundred yards later, covered in sweat, no sign of flour and completely knackered I hear shouts of “on called” -- in the opposite direction downhill from the signpost. Fortunately for me there was yet another, even longer, back-check to come; so I do eventually, but only temporarily, catch up with the rest of the pack running towards me. Just goes to show what a clever trail our Hares have layed!! The trail continues and eventually does start to climb and take us over the top of Millstone Hill with excellent panoramic views of the country side. Some of us at least, including

Roger me More, had the sense to take time out to stop and appreciate this beautiful country. After reaching the top of the hill, a long downhill run - the last thing my arthritic knees needed—ended with a well-earned beer-check. From there it was a pleasant stroll back to the car park.

It was an excellent run and a big thankyou is due to Little Shit and Sharnie.

At the Post Run circle The Lum’s cigar, for a change, was much appreciated; as it was a great midge repellent. Post run .down-downs were awarded for:

• Chris (no handle?) Cuddie -- for falling asleep and snoring on the journey in.

• Hippo—for an erotic trick of making his thigh muscles jump

• High Maintenance --for losing articles of clothing from her all-encompassing Burkha on Millstone Hill.

• Johnathan (no handle) - for sprinting UP the hill!

The mention of Johnathan sprinting up the hill prompted Leeky Willie to organise us in singing the “Grand Old Duke of York who marched 1000men” bla bla “when they were up” bla bla.. The fun bit was then to sing it without actually saying the word “up”. This was too difficult for Ballerina who earned himself a down-down for getting it completely wrong.

One further down-down was awarded to a very brave team of hashers who are competing in the Scottish “Tough Mudder” event this weekend. The Tough Mudder is a strenuous 2 day commando style obstacle course. We hope you all do well and have a great time.

Sharnie was selling Hash T-shirts after the circle and I believe there are still some available if anyone is interested. Cock-a- tool couldn’t wait to wear his beautiful white new purchase --- big mistake --- Leeky Willie was quick to get his revenge and thoroughly cover him in shiggy.

Run No: 1563

OnOn: Seaton Park

Hares: Bog Brush, Desperately Seeking Dick &Intensive Clare

Scribe: Thrupenny Bits

Canada Day and I’m dressed in orange! Well I’m wearing red underneath the luminous scribe gilet and several layers under that there may be some white, possibly even a maple leaf...... If I’d only kept my silence and not told the GM to “keep up” at the start of the circle, he might have picked on some other unsuspecting yet potential author.

After the usual pre-run frivolity, we set off around Seaton Park, whilst the late-comers tried to run us down. A nice wee jog in and out of the secret gardens, alongside the wallflowers and delphiniums, otherwise known as Tonto and Little Shit (but more about that later). Before long we were disturbing the peace at Kings College where some fancy graduation event was taking place. At this point all trace of day-old, rained-on flour disappeared.....it seems the grounds men had cleared it all away, believing it to be the after-effects of too much curry and beer.

On on along King Street, then down towards the beach, passing numerous Aberdeen high spots. The sweetie check was of course on the highest of them. At this point I shortcut rather cleverly (though I say so myself) and met the pack again at Mounthooly, just in time to find the beer check in Intensive Clare’s garden. Canada Day Cake was on offer as well as various beverages - excellent beer stop!

Back to the park either on trail, off trail or following Desperately Seeking Dick, who claimed to know a good shortcut only used by Aberdeen Uni students. Oddly it took longer that way.....but that’s student logic for you! Unfortunately I missed the start of the circle, being deep in conversation about retirement plans with Tiger Feet (he’s much older than he looks you know) and it had also slipped my memory (possibly the onset of my own dementia.....) that I would need to write about the events! So here’s my version of the proceedings.

Down downs were duly awarded by Aids to the following unsuspecting, but deserving hashers:

• Cockatool for new shoes - how many times do you have to hash in them before they are old?

• OneLiner for carefully selecting a ready-opened beer from the beer wagon - apparently unaware that it was set aside for Numbskulls own enjoyment.

• The Penguin for texting Leeky Willie from some pub somewhere, and somehow taking 56 minutes to finish three pints of brew.

• Cockatool & Pornochio dressed up as the terrible twins with strange matching T and P shirts and lampshades on their heads. For those who watch South Park it was obvious that they were Terence and Philip. Anyway it was most amusing to watch Pornochio getting into the t-shirt (or maybe it was the p-shirt) and then out of it again!

• Little Shit then told the story referred to earlier in this drivel. Yours truly was called into the circle to highlight how a seemingly innocent comment about “grass is easier on the knees...” can lead to a down down. Interestingly it went to Tonto and not me! He probably knows more about it than I do...

• Sweetness stepped into the circle to tell a joke, but was upstaged by another joke from Pornochio who received his second down down.

• The Penguin also had a second down down too but I’ve no recollection why.

• Bruce Almighty endured the entire run (or to be more accurate, his entire run) with a couple of plastic maple leaves bouncing off his face and lost his specs at least twice.

• Intensive Claire for providing a brilliant beer stop, and finally,

• Desperately Seeking Dick & Bog Brush for a jolly good run-a-round.

RUN 1560

11th June 2012

Hare: Koje Bell &Chris

Scribe: Sergio

Location: Cults

The Olymprick Torch Run

We gathered in Cults to watch the Olympic Torch pass through on its journey round the country to London. It was a long wait and like many of these things, over in a flash! Turn round to take a photo (like I did) and you’ll miss it!

Once they had all buggered off we gathered in Twizzles carpark for run 1560 - the main event. Soon we were off into the back streets of Cults, and onto the railway line. Back onto the back streets and up through the “burbs to Castle Milne, and then off into the woods. A shocking loop, crossing the trail, and we headed down to the beer check. There were some notable latecomers and absentees (Muff Diver) here!

From the beer check it was all downhill to Hillary’s garden where the bbq was in full swing. Huge juicy burgers, sausages, salad and other stuff. Magic. Dessert too - although I had to have my dessert while the circle was going on.

The usual general merriment ensued, the highlight being Olymprick’s large golden prick, which did the rounds of the circle, and even got tossed (!) into next door’s garden at one point. What they made of it we will probably never know, but it did get tossed back after a while.

Can’t remember the down down’s but I’m sure the usual suspects all got one, and so did the hares!

ON ON,

SERG

Jolly boating weather

AHHH run 1559; June 04 2012 Jubilee day

Hares: Privet, Roger Me Moore

After a heavy weekend in Glasgow I arrived at the Aberdeen Boat Club with the bright summer sun shining off the river, so I thought it wise to take refuge in a pair of dark glasses to doze off behind. I woke up from my heat and alcohol-induced reverie to hear the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh talking about “cocks growing too big” and “having a stroke”. I soon realised it was our naughty hares, Roger Me and Privet repeating an Interhash story about the Bintang girls. Of course tonight was the night that the Inhashers returned, and the Aberdeen hash put on a right royal welcome for them. I don’t know where the corgies fitted in though.

Olymprick showed up still dressed in his Borubadur hotel pool outfit, but had to dash off with Leeky Willie without doing the run so they could work on their latest money-making wheeze. Leeky Willie reckons there is a niche market in refurbishing fireman’s poles. He reckons if they put in lots of effort they can get to the very top!

Hippo roared into the boat club car park with two vintage canoes on his van - he seemed to have mistaken the run for a car boot sale - or perhaps he knew a couple of short cuts he could take advantage of.

On the dot of 19:03 Twizzle called the pack to order. Hiding behind dark glasses was not sufficient to hide me from the GM’s scribe hunt. I stifled my protest “Why don’t you pick on the usual people who fail to write up the scribes?” when I saw the desperate look in his eyes.

The circle looked like TK Maxx on a slow sales day everything from Union Jack knickers to Union Jacks on show. Aids persuaded La Manche to model Drillbit‘s new range of patriotic hashing shorts. Very chic, but is it art?

He hares explained their exquisitely planned run methodology, and seconds later we set off on our tarmac trail over the bridge. Over a glass or two of champers, the hares had had the brilliant idea of setting a Jubilee run taking in all the Aberdeen landmarks with a royal connection. Then, after a glass or two more, promptly forgot it.

The trail led through Ferryhill and up back lanes of parts of Aberdeen you normally try to avoid in daylight. At one point there was some concern about whether the hares had set the same trail at the same time, but the pack had managed to find the trail that was true, leaving the hares to argue about where the run should have gone.

My hashing pace was slowed due to all the alcohol accumulated in my legs over the weekend turning to lactic acid, so I didn’t manage to toot my horn to guide grateful hashers onto the one true path. In any case I was so confused, I was sure I ran down the same street three times.

The hares were cunning enough to trick Tonto, Bog Brush, Muff Diver and the other front-runners into running a massive back check however. Tee hee.

A pleasant jog along the Deeside railway line brought us to the Duthie park beer stop, where there was Tanglefoot and Speckled Hen - what a good idea. So we had a pleasant summer nights run.

Pink Panther looked very fetching. Her head scarf and corgi made her surprisingly like (a young) Queen Elizabeth. She tells me that she has developed a side-line marketing properties owned by people being detained at Her Majesty’s pleasure. She recently sold a house in Cove belonging to an unsuccessful murderer who attempted to starve his wife to death. Apparently this transaction was very lucrative for Pink Panther. The downside is she now has the body of weak and feeble woman.

Yet another business idea. On the on-inn along the river Cinders told me that Aids was a bit of an old lag, so she was thinking of hiring him out to over-60s for insulation. Sounds like a winner.

The first down-down was for Twizzle, whose 39th birthday treat was free mystery tour from the AA man - just for peeing in the petrol tank in his new superbike.

Sergio got his for tripping out in the middle of Aberdeen in broad daylight. I only did it once, and didn’t inhale he pleaded, but we’ve heard all that before.

The Penguin was down-downed for dressing up as ... well, you can guess ... at Interhash and generally flapping around, issuing orders.

Little Shit started on a story about Numbskull‘s siblings, which made me realise I had never thought of Numbskull having brothers and sisters - I imagine they might be like Miss Fritton Numbskull:

or Miss Prism Numbskull,

Carton Numbskull:

Or a whole family of Numbskulls:

Anyway the story was actually about Numbskull‘s son: the gist of it was that Numbskull has imposed a “one child, one bag” policy on his son, so that he could smuggle irons into Indonesia. Little Shit then related that this had prompted the Glasgow Boys to hash-name the aforementioned Lewis Numbskull as Son of an iron. I was very confused by this, having just been to the Glasgow Boys exhibition at Kelvingrove.

A more interesting story was about Sharnie escaping from being lured into the white slave trade after flashing her chest at the local Indonesian constabulary, and ended with Little Shit having to pay for her moped lessons.

As a treat for the hash, FireFlaps had been teaching her children to recite the Jubille Sov’rin:

“On Jubilee day the Ramsbottoms,

Asked all their relations to tea” etc.

But as they were being primed to entertain the circle, that nasty RA Aids did his Numbskull impression and frightened them off. So I guess we’ll have to wait until the next Jubilee run to find out whether the doctor was in 18 shillings, or whether he was 18 pence out.

Pip! Pip!

T.Rex Cock

Run 1558 - Cinders at Dunnottar Woods, Stonehaven

What happened to the weather? Beautiful week all week and (incredibly) all weekend, and then Monday dawns, fresh and cold.......oh well, that's Aberdeen weather for you. Or we could just blame the RA, Aids, for not being there. So we had Twizzle, our GM awarding the pre-run down down to Flying Scotsman, can't remember why but I'm sure there was a good reason. And then we were off. Surprisingly for me, I actually was on (most) of the run, rather than the walky-talky amble, which was lucky since I was appointed scribe.;-)

So off we all set, through the woods of Dunnottar. Why are they called that when they're nowhere near Dunnottar Castle? Answers on a postcard.....The hare, Cinders, is a woman, and all women are devious but Cinders is especially devious when coming to setting a run. We should know this by now. But no, after wandering along very nice woodland paths, the trail came to a river. Now being an old time hasher, I figured that when you cross a river once, you'll have to cross a river again, so decided to follow the hare along the riverbank. But what's this, she suddenly starts calling On On and happily announced that she had no intention of crossing the river again, since the trail came back over the river later. The pack by this time seemed to have split up, between the ones who dutifully made their way back across the river and the ones who decided to break out on their own and ignore the lack of flour on the other side. Mind you, with the overpowering smell of the wild garlic in the woods, who could blame them for wanting to explore the delights of Stonehaven?

Cockatool managed to get wet - rumour has it, it was self-inflicted but who are we to criticise? He’s a young man after all and therefore as daft as a brush. Mrs T was getting well pi**ed off with me always being in front of her, despite never breaking my walking stride - ahhh....the wonders of short cutting ba**ards you see (or SCB's).Much more fun than merely running at the front like the FRB's. That's way too easy..........

I'm afraid that I've no idea where the trail went after the river crossing as I seemed to have inadvertently missed the town part out but I'm sure it was long and picturesque. And then back through the pongy woods, various hash kiddies overtaking me and Ballerina, who was recovering from his long run at the weekend, and back to the cars and some lovely chocolate cake left over from the Mearns Hash at the weekend (how come they have cake each run and we just get mouldy pies from Thain's Bakery occasionally?).Mind you the reason there was cake left over was because most of the Mearns hashers were at the CHELSEA FLOWER SHOW!!!!!!!! What kind of hash is that?????

And so to the down downs, with occasional stand in RA, Flying Scotsman. He’s terribly serious isn't he? Need to lighten up my friend.

Down downs awarded were:-

• Hillary - for poor parenting, with teenage son boasting about beating him (presumably he was referring to running but who knows)

• Ballerina - for being so keen as to run a marathon in the heat

• Hippo - for yet another triathlon

• The Un-strungs - Pornoccio tripping over his laces, Mad Cyclist with the mad dog, Cockatool for going tits over arse and Dutch Cap for something

• Tiger Feet - his last run as a 10 fingered hasher - drank down to the tune of 10 green fingers hanging on a wall.....

• Cinders, Privet and Roger me More - for lusting over that cute young Scots rugby player at the Wooden Spoon dinner and separating him from his lovely girlfriend....but still being left next to Dad Dad.

• Cockatool again for being a couch potato - something about missing a train again.......and then it coming out that Privet had given him £60 to get some vodka, on the Hash cocktail making night, Cockatool got lost/couldn't find the vodka in the supermarket, couldn't find the girls and so went home.......or somewhere

• Cinders - for a good run

On Inn was the Station Hotel for anyone who wanted a warm up as it was freezing!

On On

Pink Panther

I arrive at the Chapel of Garioch to Kemnay meeting place to find Tiger Feet and Goat Wrestler parked at one end of a lay-by. I drove to the other end to find, as Tonto had predicted the planned car parking had a gate across the entrance. A quick look at the locks and the gate posts we came to the conclusion that the gate could be removed at the hinge side a fleeting discussion about not having a big enough spanner and ethics. Double parking in the lay-by we would suffice.

Next in was T Rex then Cinders who I asked if she appreciated that I had kept her a parking space, she got out the car saying “ Just as well it’s a small car, Adrian’s car it’s awful” “it must have good miles to the gallon” I say, “Oh it’s a terrible car rattle, rattle shake, shake.” “I’m hash cash tonight, but I’ve no change” Next a bucket is produced from the Ford Ka, Goat wrestler then gets first grab of Cinders rhubarb, another hash deal by the Akinson’s.

Tonto arrives in his 4 x4 looking cool and collected for a Hare.

Harley on his impressive Harley Davidson 1680

Walking past the cars there’s T-Rex Cock mooning to the world as he got changed into his shorts.

Hippo shifts his van nearer the gate as it has the hash beer. Oneliner can’t believe his luck when he finds a space in the middle of the car park left by Howard.

A few more cars arriving and Privet and Roger me More decide to stand in the sun on the other side of the road, before long half the hash are congregating in the middle of the road trying to form a circle.

Circle is called bang on 7pm looking round there are fewer numbers than normal, no RA so Eee Eky Thump stands into the breach. A debate starts on which run it is 1555, 1556 or 1557 Fi Fi decides it’s 1557. Next what happened on 1557? No one had a clue! Tonto said it was 2 minutes late taking off from Aberdeen airport! He’s such a wit. No new hashers, no returning hasher, who will be the scribe round and round Eee Eky Thump goes smiling as always, Binliner arrives late but gets a reprieve as he had been given the scribe only a few weeks ago (for being late). Eee Eky Thump then shamelessly says she has not read the scribe for a long time I open my mouth to say “that’s because the scribes haven’t written anything” and I catch Eee Eky Thump’s eye, giving me the scribe jacket and horn saying yes I remember your 6 page scribe. She doesn’t learn!

Twizzle turns up late, just to be told he is too late to be scribe and Eee Eky Thump decides to become Twizzle if Twizzle becomes her, Twizzle decides he’s getting the better deal.

Accepts the starting down down for being late.

Tonto tries to get numbers for soup and sandwiches at the Grant Arms, claiming he would be bankrupt if he did not get 12. Hands up gives him some relief.

Tonto then spreads 4 dots of flour in the middle of the circle as a reminder to the old and forgetful that 4 dots and you are on, claiming his flour was whiter than white using the old Daz trick of making it blue, he was expecting snow!! No walls or fences to be scaled. Then he tells us that every day he had been up reconnoitring the trail he had heard shotguns fire, the trail was over private land and privately planted forest. Worried Hashers are told the On-On is a southerly direction.

We make our way across some seriously rutted ground from forestry management, logs and small trees some only 30cm.

We head for the tarred road and cross into a open wood of Scots Pine 20 metres tall, a check spread the group, a lucky break took me down the correct trail to the right, I’m out with the front runners Hippo, Wotzoff, Flying Scotsman and Cockatool.

Another correct guess puts us back to the east along a rough tractor track. Then we went between a gap in a wall and another track through some silver birch trees. At the end of the wood there are 2 options across some dead fern/bracken with newly planted trees with plastic protectors or uphill on an old track through the wood. I was lucky again Oneliner had found 2 spots and lost the trail Flying Scotsman and I noticed the last spot was near a gap in the wall, this turned out to be the route. Uphill in the plastic wood only to find a back check, luckily the hare was advancing uphill too and we noticed the trail swung to the left downhill. A weave downhill on cut grass paths and mature birch. We come to a long farm track and past a house on the left just before a gate and the tarred road.

Checking there is confusion with very little being said apart from “Petrol’’ being shouted as cars pass, Tonto holding back not to give the route away. Drillbit points out a telephone cover with flour on, a little more help from Oneliner who was well down the road and not On took us up a farm track to the right, On On and blasting the horn up the track I run 4th lucky check for me took me up a forest track forestry commission land, On On to the top of the hill Flying Scotsman and Twizzle turn up just as I find the back check.

A few hundred metres back I find Tonto just turning into a track we had passed on our fools errand. The next check had been found by the time we caught up, a crowd of lazy hashers gathered. Le Manche and flying Scotsman were 100m up a steep track through some large mature trees. They were shouting “Checking two” I followed and by the time I reached them they were on three. On On was shouted from below, foiled again. When we got down we went through a small gap next to a gate and find ourselves in a small orchard with cut grass paths again and old wooden chairs scattered around mostly next to trees.

Out of the orchard found us on a long concreted road, where Leeky Willie had a few words mainly about chairs. Soon we were heading past a large granite looking house but Glenn rightly pointed out it was Fyfe stone. We arrive to find a group of hashers stopped on the road, the beer stop and some refreshment. Being last or nearly the choice was limited. I quiz Tonto on why there were no walkers, he said he does not do walkers!

There is a meeting of the older members and the Interhash voting is being discussed, will it be China next year? They were hoping for something close to home like Holland. 400 m walk back to the Layby and hash beer. Binliners dog showing us the way.

Down, Downs for

• Struth for being pervy and eying up Flying Scotsman changing.

• Harley for shamelessly undressing in front of the harriets.

• Cockatool for being on the Train and complaining he had been up since 7am, poor lad.

• Bog Brush for jumping like a mountain goat only to face plant when he tripped.

Cockatool decided he wanted to be a honouree RA so Twizzle let him and Cinders got a down down for Aids not being there as he is on the Interhash over her head but missing it, because she was driving. Then Cockatool told the story of how Bog Brush had got a little excited on the run and tried to cover up his stiffy with his sweat shirt only to draw more attention to his predicament, much laughter from the harriets who had seen it and those who hadn’t! There endeth the 1557 hash scribe

Aberdeen Hash House Harriers

# 1554

Date - Monday 30th April 2012

OnOn - Tyrebagger Sculpture car park on B979 off A96, NJ 852112

OnInn - Bucksburn Manor.

Hares - Drillbit & Ballerina

I should stop grumbling about scribes, it can get me noticed, and it did. So here I am dutifully scribing away to avoid being on the AGPU shit list.

It also serves a useful purpose of making sure everyone in Hashdom knows that HIPPO was SIXTY YEARS and ONE WEEK of age on this day; give or take a few hours. (Hippo, “this is your life” as Hughie Green used to say!) 1st run 26th June 1983 # No.12, there were 23 new runners on that day, including T Bits.

Now over to the Hash, the trail and all the other proceedings that go with it. My thought for the day, if you need one “The only difference between me and a madman is that I Hash and therefore not mad!”

We had the usual circle team building exercise - “what happened in 1554?”Same response as usual “Who gives a f**k, let’s have a beer”

Then over to more serious stuff related to the birthday boy, HIPPO and not to be forgotten birthday girl Thruppeny Bits (no age offered, but could be young enough to be Hippo’s other daughter).Downs downs duly awarded, Hippo resplendent in large silver blimps and T’Bits radiant as ever.

New runners and visitors, Michael, David and La Manche were introduced.

As usual there was an explanation from the hares about inclement weather and not taking enough care in laying the trail. As if it never rains in Aberdeen! The only thing to worry about is flour baking solid in the sun, or the odd shop keeper brushing it off their doorstep. As a rule of thumb, always expect the unexpected when laying trail. Did you know, in the 1400's a law was set forth in England, that a man was allowed to beat his wife with a stick no thicker than his thumb. Hence we have 'the rule of thumb'

The pack set of at a hectic pace in the same direction that all runs take from this carpark; across the road into the wood that doesn’t go anywhere. So, after hanging about near the entrance to the quarry for a wee while, out of the hedge row popped the front runners. Back on trail without breaking sweat, “Oh my, the last run here in reverse.....”

The trail headed up around the quarry and round the back of the big hill, at this point I lost all sign of trail and most of the hash. My next opportunity to meet up with the pack was at the bottle neck at the other end of the golf course. At this point it was hard to go for a trail away from the cars and within ten yards the trail was found, which meant missing out the big loop to nowhere....

On to the beer check, cunningly set on a hidden trail to the right of the last check, the On Inn being to the left. We appeared to have at least four packs running this trail, each following its own destiny.

Back to the circle, which seemed to take an age to get sorted, must have been the left over pork pies and cakes that needed to be got rid of:

When it was called, I was fretting about a 1-0 score line that was of specific importance to me and a running commentary from T-Rex Cock was not doing my concentration any favours.

So my recollection of the down downs is a bit hazy.

Down Down to:

• Hill-Ary for sending out hash news that only the pensioner set have time to read.

• A bunch that had something to do with a bus driver getting lost on the way out to Hippo’s bash. The only notable point was Ballerina who actually followed the bus.

• Smart Arse, currently renamed Cockatool, but nobody knows why.

• New hashers, because they were. Michael, David and La Manche

• Drillbit & Ballerina for attempting lay a trail after the pack had run it. That said, it was enjoyable in a weird sort of way, the Tangle Foot made up for it.

Cheers and thanks.

Your “umble scribe.

Little Shit

P.S. For those who want to see their name in print; the run list....

Aids, Ballerina, Barbarella, Bog Brush, Bruce Almighty, Cinders, David (NR), Drillbit, Dutch Cap, Eee Eky Thump, Fat Slag, Fifi, FireFlaps, Goat Wrestler, High Maintenance, Hippo, Intensive Clare, Leeky Willie, Little Shit, Michael (NR), More Butt, Mrs T, Muff Diver, Nipples, Numbskull, Olymprick, OneLiner, Orienteer, Pigiron, Prickly Bush, Red Stripe, Roger Me Moore, Scabby Arse, Sergio, Sharnie, Hill-Ary, Stainless, Struth , The Flying Scotsman, Thrupenny Bits, Tonto, T-Rex Cock, Trouser Shredder, Walkie Talkie, Wotsoff, Binliner, Desperate Seeking Dick, Cockatool (Smart Arse), Loan Ranger, Susan, Squatting Squaw, La Manche (V)

RUN 1553 23rd April 2012

Hare: Toy Boy Tom

Scribe: Sergio

Location: Hazlehead

The First Monday Run of 2012

The summer of 2012 is almost upon us - what promise it holds!! The Queen’s Jubilee, the Olympics, all the other exciting sporting highlights to delight and amuse. Interhash for instance.

Tonight all we had was a rather drab, dreary hash (I’m talking about the weather here) in the familiar territory of Hazlehead. A good crowd assembled to hear first Cockatool and then Toy Boy Tom give us some drivel about George and the Dragon (wasn’t that a TV programme?) and the events of 1553. None of it made much sense but nobody was listening.

Talking of dates - by 1911 we were off. Hazlehead run # 4a with a slight variation near the end - we should call it Hazlehead run # 4b in future. A good length run, with some good trails and some shaggy to splash through too. It was a shame that the weather gods saw fit to chuck it down just as we arrived at the beer stop. Bastards. I enjoyed the cider for a change. Downhill all the way from here to the end of the run - extra marks to the hare.

Monday rules so no gluevine unfortunately! Jackets went on and umbrellas went up and the circle was (eventually) called. Hippo was given a down down in anticipation of his free bus pass arriving before next weekend. Mad Cyclist and Bog Brush got one for being unable to find the run site for my run near Meilke Tulloch (what a run you missed - run of the year by all accounts) and making a big fuss about it to Thruppeny Bits, and Numbskull demonstrated his skill at upsetting small children.

The three new runners were given a beer to celebrate the successful negotiation of their first run. Red Stripe and I felt sure two of them were twins......

The hare, Toy Boy Tom, was given the final drink for a good effort - best Monday run of 2012..... and with that a few hardy souls made their way to the Dutch Mill for more.

ON ON,

SERG

Run 1551

Hare - Sergio and One Foot

Location - Some woods near the slug road (not really sure)

Welcome to the scribe of run number 1551 which I know will be read by all of you who missed the run to do Easter things (yeah right!). At approximately 9.30 in the morning as I was getting ready to leave I was phoned by Leaky. His Internet was not working (later allegations flew about Olymprick forgetting to pay the bill) and could I look up what happened in the year 1551? The answer to anyone who cares is not much but I jotted down some facts for use later.

I reported to Olymprick’s garden with Leeky Willie and Desperately Seeking Dick to secure my place in the car. Susan Noname let her lovely boy cat Treacle out and I took the opportunity to have a stroke (no rude comments or thoughts about me stroking Olymprick’s girlfriend’s pussy please). Treacle is a lovely beautiful boy cat. I then got in the car with Susan and Olymprick and everyone else piled into Struth’s car. It turns out Struth was as sure as I was to the location of the run and we ended up travelling in convoy to the run site.

We parked at the run site (oh I do miss the opportunity of demonstrating my parking skills to the Hash) and the circle was called to order. It turns out that both the GM and RA were away at the Easter challenge and therefore Olymprick and Leaky were promoted respectively. As GM Olymprick handed me the job of the scribe (gee thanks) and I donned the fetching luminous monstrosity vest thing. I was also given a horn to fondle and fondle it I did! Cockatool had stolen a diversion sign and made it into a Hash sign as the rest of them have been secreted in various Hashers’ garages. We all had our picture taken with it - the photographer being Susan Noname. Pre run down down went to Cockatool for his sign efforts and Sweetness for being press ganged into the role of song master.

The hare Sergio finally gave the pre run explanation and then off we went. The weather was perfect conditions for running- not wet nor to hot. We quite quickly turned into the forest and there my troubles began. I bloody hate forests and trying to pick my way over fallen tree roots! Some of the more astute readers may be asking why hash? The answer is I like drinking beer really quickly. I tried in vain to catch up with the pack and witnessed front runners JC and Cockatool running off into the distance. Thankfully there was a rear guard hare in the shape of One Foot who waited for me. Eventually we became a pack of three (Stainless, One Foot and me) and as we picked our way over the dirt and grot I began to day dream about what I was going to write in this scribe and other more dirty private things. We passed the remnants of the week’s snow and eventually made our way to the very handy water stop. More runs should provide water stops in my opinion.

At this point the three of us short cut and cut out a loop of trail. I’m afraid you need to ask a front runner to write the scribe if you want to know what happens at every bit of the run. We catch the tail end of the Hash (Olymprick and I think Sweetness) and continue through bog and forest.

Eventually we come to the beer stop where our arrival is cheered. The beer stop had a well-stocked selection of softies and alcohol and all needs were satisfied. We then made it back to the cars for the circle. On the way back a new term was coined for Numbskull - “Normal for Banchory”.

The circle got underway and I was made to sit in the special scribe seat that Leaky had made to encourage more people to want the role. Numbskull reversed his car over a pair of trainers to position it in the sunshine.

Down Downs were awarded to

• Sergio for a wonderful run (Not sure why One Foot didn’t partake perhaps it was because she was eating chocolate at the time)

• Sergio for looking like George Clooney (aye right!) and flying up from London while poor old One Foot had to get the train

• Susan Noname - apparently for a perfect relationship you spend 30% of your time with your partner, 20% apart and 50% at work. Susan got a Down Down for her immense bravery in spending 30% of her time with Olymprick

• Numbskull and Whinger - for knowing each other since 1985 (2 years after I was born!).

• Numbskull introduced Whinger to Hashing many years ago. For some reason they were made to change jumpers. At the naked point Susan Noname who had been taking pictures up to this point took a picture “for my own personal use”. Shocking!

• Sweetness - Suggested by Pink Panther for Sweetness’s suggestion that the Hash sign should be altered to include the words “fuck off”

• JC and Fifi - for being the perfect couple

• Sweetness for leading us in a song to the tune of Eton boat race. The lyrics included “bum titty” repeated lots of times

• Sergio - for doing an excellent run. A candidate for run of the year.

• Cockatool- for stealing a diversion sign and being light fingered.

• Me - for doing the scribe and the shocking untrue allegation that I have doctor’s hand writing.

• Privet - for doing Hash cash and showing off her nipples

• And finally Leeky Willie for being a fine RA and telling us what happened in 1551.

We them all dashed off to the On In as the rain was starting. At the On Inn Olymprick amused us all by striding confidently into the ladies’ facilities. It was a good few moments before he realised his error.

Well that’s all I have to say on run 1551 a true candidate for run of the year.

On On

Intensive Clare

It was a cold grey morning - finally the Scottish weather is back!!! Having promised to make breakfast that morning I made it to Sainsbury’s to find everything required to make a heart-attack on a plate but on getting to Leeky Willies to cook it, had found that he and Burning Sensation had been kidnapped, and leaving us having to wait outside for their return. Finally they arrived to a fanfare of party poppers and the assault on the kitchen began, with Desperately Seeking Dick repeatedly requesting MEAT!

After 20 minutes of frantic cooking a pile of food was ready, at which point Leeky Willie decided we had to go, so I quickly got ready (a woman should never be rushed), made a sandwich and we were off! As I sat in the car the radio was switched on and what came blaring out of the speakers - “could this be the most beautiful girl in the world” to which Leeky Willie attempted to make his first of many passes on Cockatool!

We drove to pick up The Penguin and upon seeing him Cockatool sprang out of the car and gave him a big hug, to The Penguin’s response of “Bugger off - the neighbours are watching”. So we got back into the car and under The Penguins instructions drove the “quicker” windy route.

On arriving, we found that Olymprick, who had set off after us was already there and dishing out some gorgeous Stovies and pies (never trust a The Penguin on a hash!!!) and after a stomach full, the circle was formed with recognition made for Pigiron’s and Stainless’s 250th run and a special celebration for Harley for his 800th run! And the question was - what happened in 1550?

The Penguin had a think and suddenly remembered - it was the first year he ate Chocolate!

So the run was called and with 4 spots and you’re on and the direction pointed to the west the runners set off in trepidation! And then the April fools began, the pointed route was a checkback! So the pack tuned and got onto the route, but we weren’t going to be out fooled - about half the pack decided to run back on the on-in route and the other half somehow found the trail! From a distance we could see the runners on the true trail however were stumped by a freshly sprouting field!

On finally finding the true trail (by luck rather than good judgement) the chase was on, scrambling up near vertical gravel paths through station wood and down the road to Carlieth wood. After a quick sprint through the marshland, we came to the river crossing - a giant black pipe. The On off of the crossing involved a 10ft jump (with those chickening out waddling to the end and following the path - CHEATS!!!) The route then swung into Ley wood and after a few interesting descents and a crossing of a tree felling zone the sweetie stop was made.

After a quick sugar rush, the run made it to Crathes castle, where some rather interested tourists had an intriguing glimpse into the life of the HASH! Mesmerised by the beauty of the castle and with Mr Darcy in her thoughts, Desperately Seeking Dick attempted to fall into the arms of Bog Brush but instead did a forward roll down the gravel path, gaining a couple of war wounds in the process! The route then forded a stream (the wussies deciding to cross the bridge) and ran down the marsh boardwalk before stumbling upon the beer stop.

fter a cool refreshing beer, the run then proceeded back to the car park via a very much déjà-vu route! We’d made it J, that was until we did a head count and realised that only half of us were there! Finally, half an hour later, the rest of the pack turned up and after a warming Gluvine, the circle was formed.

So here we were at the circle - and this is where the mind starts to get a little fuzzy (wonder why???) The first down down went to Bog Brush, the Knight in shining lycra, for gallantly aiding Desperately Seeking Dick in her quest to the beer stop. Aids then started to recount a story about a lost traveller, when ironically a tribe of about 5 runners turn up - followed by Gay Gordon. And why were they so late - because the Hare had managed to get them lost so a down down was clearly enforced. On looking up Aids realised that FireFlap’s dog, which had started out as a sausage dog, had been turned into a Pugg through repeated running injuries

Then the true assault began - the story went to a certain person who missed the train and decided to walk home and then broke into FireFlaps house, slept on the couch and kindly made a cup of tea in the morning! Down down number 1 for the midnight walker! At this point a hand was seen erupting from the crotch of The Penguin and through some very valiant effort the down down was made, however this was a slow down down due to the urge to burst out in laughter! The award was then given to the best dressed - and guess where that went (although The Penguin did offer some support by only drinking half of his down down and offering the rest!)