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Run 1357
Date 4 Aug 2008
Place Brathens
Hare Whinger
Scribe 1 foot
Twas a fine night, there was no deluge.
All I remember about the pre run formalities was mention of an old cunt. Thought it might be something lost in translation but on reflection, I think not. Welcome to Skinhead and Maidenhead.
Now I like these woods, I set a really good run here a year or two back, or it would have been if any of you had run it properly. Was looking forward to gentle trails through the trees but no, it wasn’t to be.
No sooner had we set forth than we were in reverse thrust, well most of us. You’ll always get the twats who feel a back check is a mere diversion on the way to the beer stop.
I can tell you quite a lot about the run Pussy Boots and I did, but nothing about the real one. We heard tell that Dutch Cap gave the psuedo althletes a fright up at the front.
No, Pussy Boots was held up by waves of nausea and I was held up by a perambulator which in turn was being held up by several pairs of hands over some smalll hurdles. Was not at all handicapped by my lardass and degererated knee. We wavered atop about a hundred fences like flowers in the breeze, we made landfall and only left small craters in the earth. Now and again we broke into a run so fast it was all a blur and we missed checks. Luckily a herd of rhinos had been through this way before.
An hour and a half for 4 miles, surely a pb.
Back at base we were rushed like hell through the circle on account of the food deadline. A midge must have collided with the hash limo because the damn alarm was set off. Numbskull made a most brilliant observation and it’s going to haunt us…..the devious, deceiving, creepy pair – blind (pretend) cat Gideon and lame (not so pretend) fox Foulfellow were identified and punished for their perversions and deviations.

Dragged off at speed towards our hostelry. The waitress tried a new trick – Sorry she said, there aren’t enough seats, some of you will have to stand. So? we thought. Seeing that didn’t have the desired effect, a deserted wing was hastily made available. We had fine repast, can thorougly recommend the kiddies macaroni. Although, there was a spot of confusion. Whinger was whingeing about his lack of fajhitas and hugely concerned someone at the next Hash table had hijacked them, guising as Forbes. In fact, Whingers order had failed to reach the kitchen and the poor bugger Forbes never saw his supper.
Was a good run.
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