Scribes 1987

RUN 953

HASH 1987 PANTOMIME

OR

"AIDS IN THE WOODS."

ACT I

Scene I

Scene opens promptly at eight minutes past eleven with audience being told of the plot by the Baron (Dad Dad) who, in an effort to hide the plot, informed the gathering throng that the previous weeks run was really a rehearsal.

Scene II

Audience bemused by the antics of the players who attempted to ad-lib their way through the plot until the fight/bonking scene.

Scene III

Scene opens to laughter of audience who were witnessing a first for the AH3. A very randy, very confused player (White Bob, part of the Derek Wood menagerie) was attempting to Bonk Brown Rob (part of the John Cruikshank menagerie). White Bob attempted to enter from stage left, then stage right after that the stage directions became very confusing as he attempted it from every direction. Brown Rob was somewhat unimpressed. These Arty People are strange.

End Act I

Refreshments

Act II

Scene IV

Scene opens with the participants of the last scene still at IT, players finally separated after showers of beer and abuse from the audience, who then followed the plot to the top of Scolty Hill. From here the plot was all downhill to scene V.

Scene V

A repeat of scene 111 except that Brown Rob was on top which brought a smile to White Bob. The action now became a little drawn out with the play finally ending with the main characters finishing before the chorus (another first).

ENDE

Those who ran:

Bruce BRICKNELL Pigpen

John CRUICKSHANK Bentshaft

Raffaella CRUIKSHANK

David FERGUSON Fergie

Valerie FERGUSON

David FYFE

Rita GRAHAM One Cell

Julia FYFE Bannana

John McINNES Michelin Man

Andy MOLLOY

Andrew MOWAT Fallguy

Andy PATON Bald Eagle

Kent PRESTON Superman

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Run 252 Sun 20 Dec 1987

WOT I DID ON SUNDAY

(By Adrian The Mole Aged 34 and a Little Bit)

I woke up this eing Sun ay orning which ollows airly closely a ter Satur ay night is as ig a surprise to e as it is to you. My hee i not hurt uch an the sun was shining even igger surprise an as no one ha staye or reak ast ore to the point no one ha co e ho e or cocoa I went ashing.

Wen I got there I was late so the he teacher sai I ha to write this story he is a ig ully. Their was lots o other peoples their two. One o the , Mr Pig Pen had a big bandage on his arm (Miss Panther says it's coz he wanks to uch - wot oes that ean? . So eo the peoples ha

one a lot o runs so they wos given new sweaty shirts. The he teacher then sqeeze irty stu all over the he is very silly an they sqerte there pop all over the other peoples they are silly too.

We then run. We run on so eroa s an on so e iel s. We then run in so e woo s. A ter that we run on su roa s again. It was un. Then we run in the river. It wis not un it was kol . We run in su ore woo s. So eo the peoples wos like little oys an girls P.S. I like little girls aqn through u an stu at each other. We then run in the woo s. A ter we run in the wou s we run up a ig hill. My legs was very tyre . On top o the ig hill was a ig stone thing. Miss Julia sai it re in e her o so ewon ut she i not say who. Mr Martin ha a sleep with a ig cow pat or a peelow he is silly. When we run own the hill the other peoples run the other way to e la very silly.

A ter we run own the hill we ha so e hot rinks an say so e irty pictures P.S. I like pictures.

Then we went or our lunch. That is the eno y story. DOWN DOWNS I think?

Gold Top 75 Runs

Tim For Being a are

Bev For leaving again

Not Dot For not having one last week

Pig Pen For wanking too uch an eing a here

Alan (Hashshit) For having a shave ash an le - The Shaver or Close Shave or Mr Bruan?

Fuck Milk ... Got Beer?

The Runners:

Trevor ANCELL Little Shit

Adrian ATKINSON Aids

Bruce BRICKNELL Pigpen

Mick BRIGGS

Bev BROWN Brown Owl

Rosemary COCKS

Paul DUMONT

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

Anne Marie TURION The Dutches

David FERGUSON Fergie

Ross HALL Running Sore

Sarah INNES Pink Panther

Julia FYFE Bannana

Steve LEVER Labotomy

Tim LITTLE

Jackie LITTLE

John McINNES Michelin Man

Diane SMITH Gold Top

Gordon PARK Biggles

Andy PATON Bald Eagle

Gerry POTTER The Envoy

Kent PRESTON Superman

Liz REIJS

Martin RICHMOND Sonic

Anne RICHMOND Thruppenny Bits

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Howard ROPER Hippo

Alison SMITH Big Al

Ron STRACHAN The Penguin

Alan TAILFORD

Dave TAYLOR

Richard THOMPSON Stomper

Simon WIJKER

Derek WOOD Captain Bligh

RUN 249 Nov 1987 :

THE KILT THAT NEVER WAS

I don't know what it means either, but it sounds more interesting than "St. Andrew's Day Run".

Hashers + Hangovers (none greater than Val's) assembled at Crathes Castle to be greeted by the awesome sight of Dad Dad wearing some kind of kilt. It was about this time that everybody else realised they weren't.

Ten yards out of the car park and Howard (yes, Howard) was onto a shortcut. Your RA & Not Dot were hot on his tail. Twenty yards and we meet up with the rest of the Hash. Forty yards, and we're back at the car park gulping the vino.

The respite was brief. Rambled off again into the woods, by a lake, onto the road (according to Pink Panther), the pace being only just above dead slow. On Dad Dad's offer of a shortcut, Not Dot? Was heard to reply "Are you trying to take me into the woods?" Can Dad Dad be that desperate (or perhaps it's Not Dot' whose desperate).

Continuing on the theme of love and lust, Sula's new Toy Boy appears to be Russell, leaving poor old Trevor/Little Shit/Valentine in the lurch.

Wandered on through the scenery and along the river bank, the pace only hotting up occasionally as the shiggy flew. Dad Dad made a valiant attempt to put Fourex in the water, but age not being Dad Dad's side, he missed, landing face down in the drink. Flippy made another attempt, alas he too failed. Word on the street is "Revenge".

Yawn, the old "pipe across the river" stunt was pulled. Only the mentally deficient (male) section of the Hash fell for that one (Russell - literally).

Up to the top of the brae and once again the shiggy flew. One dollop landing on Not Dot?'s baby's bum. What sort of animals are we keeping on the Hash these days? Answer

- English XXXXXX'X.

On in through a field (depended who you were with, which particular field you went through), via the usual ambush. Last in was Kent who, as usual, was doing an entirely different run.

Steps back in amazement - For the first time in the history of Dad Dad's runs, the on inn wasn't at the Irvine Arms. Back instead, to the basement of the Burnett Arms.

Flippy had two curries, one kindly donated by a whip round from the Hash.

Down Downs :

• Martin, since Ann was first back.

• Gordon for grovelling

• Stomper for making obcene phone calls to the Aids Hotline.

Hash Shit and left-overs of the Whisky/river water/use your imagination, for child abuse, to XXXXXX.

(RA)

Alison (Big Al)

Those that ran:

Trevor ANCELL Little Shit

Fiona BICK Fifi

Jackie LITTLE

John CARTER JC

Dave CLARKE

Paul DUMONT Fourex

David FERGUSON Fergie

Valerie FERGUSON

Ian FORBES Flippy

Sarah INNES Pink Panther

Russel JORDON

Julia FYFE Bannana

Tim LITTLE

Andrew MOWAT Fallguy

Gordon PARK

Dorothy PARK NotDot

Andy PATON Bald Eagle

Gaynor PATON

Kent PRESTON Superman

Martin RICHMOND Sonic

Anne RICHMOND Thruppenny Bits

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Howard ROPER Hippo

Theresa ROPER Mrs T

Alison SMITH Big Al

Richard THOMPSON Stomper

Sheila THOMSON

Gary YATES

Run 248

Lord's Throat, Monymusk

9.30 am - alarm goes off and yours truly leaps out of bed full of the joys of life - then I saw old Paul Fourex stumbling out of his bedroom looking like an extra from Michael Jackson's Thriller video - Yeuch!!!! Just shows you what boozing and chasing loose women can do to you.

We arrived late at the On On as we had to get some Extra Strong Mints for old Paul's garlic and brandy laden breath, but fortunately, we did arrive before 11 am and so did not incur our GM's wrath. He's getting to be a right little Hitler - "All runs will start at 11 am SHARP and if you're late it's Tough Shit". If this happens, we'll never see JC on the hash again (or Julia "don't call me Banana" Fyfe).

I had a feeling the Hash was not going to go to plan when old Paul Fourex called On On in one direction while I called On On in another direction. On up we went towards the top of the hill - our RA was getting very concerned about whether we were actually going to the top or not - blame old Paul says I, he set this part of the run.

At the 1st check, the FRBs were all running off in a dozen different directions calling On On, when I spotted Little Shit (known as Val to his friends) disappearing round a corner with the Hash Hound Sula. Now I don't want to spread rumours, but when they returned, Val Little Shit was doing his shorts up and Sula was running very strangely.

On up and up and up we went - Phew!! Once the Hash got to the top and had scoffed the beer, leaving none for the Walking Talking Puffing section, they started heading downhill through the heather and disappeared into the trees. At this point, we lost our RA and Val (Fergie’s better half, not old Valentino Little Shit). I would like to point out that this happened on old Paul's part of the trail, not mine!

I followed Twix down through the trees until we reached a dirt track road and met up Sherpa. He informed us the trail was off to the left and everyone had gone that way. I was told later that the Hash were actually following the trail of an incontinent bird as there was no flour here. Why then, I asked, is Ronnie running the other way? Did he have inside info? Deciding that Sherpa had more brain cells than Ronnie (i.e. 2) we followed Sherpa.

We got lost. Believing that someone who can climb Mount Everest and still manage to get back to Aberdeen without getting lost, must know his way around Bennachie, we followed Sherpa into the forest. Wot a mistake! We got totally lost and ended up in a field with some unfriendly looking cows, miles away from the cars.

We crossed streams, barbed wire fences, walls etc etc etc until we found that dirt track road again. Ignoring all those arrows pointing in wrong directions who was the dope that set this bit?) Past all those lovely subtle loops into the trees, we finally came to the ON INN sign. At last! One o'clock and already 1/2 hours drinking time lost.

But what's this? Lo and behold, Fergie and Running Sore are coming back up the

hill towards us. Did they enjoy the run so much that they wanted to do it again? No. They were off to look for our lost RA and Val. Oh dear......

However, deciding that food and drink were more important, Twix, Sherpa and I carried onto the car park. Off to the Grant Arms Hotel, picking up the Hash sign that Sherpa hadn't hit with his car.

Our RA and Val finally arrived 1/2 hour later to cheers from the Hash.

Down Downs were awarded to:

• Gaynor - 25th run

• Not Dot - for nearly being 2

• David - New runner - very keen and a future contender for the boat race

• The Hares - Old Paul and Young Sarah - for such a (super) run

• Rick "Sherpa" - for leaving the Hash flag near the top of Mount Everest

• Val - for leading our RA astray ( not difficult to do )

• Hashit - to "Little Shit Valentino Sula's lover" etc etc for being a sexist RA the week before and being born on Feb 14th.

Young Pink Panther

Those that ran:

Rick ALLAN Sherper

Alison ALLAN Twix

Trevor ANCELL Little Shit

Fiona BICK Fifi

Jackie LITTLE

Dave CLARKE

Paul DUMONT Fourex

David FERGUSON Fergie

Valerie FERGUSON

David FYFE

George HADGRAFT

Ross HALL Running Sore

Sarah INNES Pink Panther

Julia FYFE Bannana

Steve LEVER Labotomy

Tim LITTLE

John McINNES Michelin Man

Gordon PARK

Dorothy PARK NotDot

Andy PATON Bald Eagle

Gaynor PATON

Gerry POTTER The Envoy

Kent PRESTON Superman

Martin RICHMOND Sonic

Anne RICHMOND Thruppenny Bits

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Howard ROPER Hippo

Theresa ROPER Mrs T

Alison SMITH Big Al

RUN NO. 247

HARE: t'Roper (Mrs)

24 Hashers ... 1 Hound

Sunday arrives, get up, look out of window, oh yes, it's another Hashing sunrise; no sun, just rain stotting aff the grun. Oh well, never mind, it stops the shiggy from sticking to the designer Hash T-shirts. Eventually it's time to go, into car, head in general direction of Counteswells tribal gathering thinking to myself. Isn’t life an amazing thing when you become a responsible and caring parent?

I remember that if I had a spare £30 it would be off for a nosh and umpteen pints of the amber nectar. Not now tho. It’s scrape together the £30 and buy a car seat belt, and booster seat for a small bottom. And then there's the 5 am, “hello folks, isn't it great to be alive, where's my breakfast?” routine. By the way, Gerry has some good advice on that score. Quote. If you don’t want your kids to waken you up early in the morning, live 300 miles away from them. Obviously a man with a great deal of sense.

I wonder how Gerry would deal with the grown up logic of the female half of the species when it comes to furnishing a house, as I know someone who could do with some advice. Scenario, a flat in Union Grove... We (ie female) need a new suite, answer, buy one...it doesn't go with the curtains...buy new curtains...they don’t go with the carpet... buy a new carpet...it doesn't go with the wallpaper...redecorate...new colour scheme doesn't go with the suite..... Advice please on a £5 note.

Anyway ... the Hash. Thanks to Fergie for volunteering me as scribe for a run that started prompt at 11.00 and finished prompt at 11.03 or thereabouts. Before setting off Sara was awarded a down down for innocently taking the piss out of Trevor. Pouring half of it over her nice orange cagoule turned out to be a mistake as later on the run Ronnie decided to wash it for her in a large muddy puddle, forgetting in his haste to do his good deed for the day, to let Sara take it off first...

Into the run about a minute or so and already t'Roper has taken 2 shortcuts. Having set out at 06.30 that morning she is definitely giving the impression that the trail might be in a forward direction, or maybe not. Checking it out, while standing on the check, a little trick of mine, Dad-Dad and friends come bouncing in. To accusations of coming late Mr Robb replies he's never come late in his life (I think he is referring to a possible problem with premature ejaculation). Having watched the Hash Hound perform her morning constitutional (how is it no one ever steps in it, especially when about 15 Hashers return at a gallop from a back check) we all set off to be accosted by a sign especially erected for the benefit of the Hash........ CATTLE. Keep your dog on a lead.

Anyway, some of us followed the trail, i.e. we kept a beady eye on what t'Roper was doing, while others just wandered about. Some of the party goers from the night before were contemplating re-cycling some diced carrots and didn't need the friendly chide from Jackie to the effect that she was on the Hash for a run even if no one else was.

Meanwhile Trevor and Fergie had found a little paradise, a nice pond and lots of mud. The only problem being that there was no one to chuck the mud at seeing that everyone else had been following spots of white stuff called flour. Our heroes were not put off by this however and threw the stuff at each other regardless, especially in the case of Fergie as Sula was playfully trying to poke a stick up his bum.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Hash, who were bravely charging through the undergrowth, disturbing owls and erasing hangovers suddenly found themselves back at the car park, and that was that. Mind you, that was the scene of the day’s most interesting sights. Ronnie found a used condom and proceeded to drop it down Anne’s back, much to her chagrin as she knew where it had been, so she claimed.

The Hash Hound was having an interesting time as she was accosted by a black Lab. who was having difficulties retrieving its nose from her posterior. This obviously gave an appetite as she found a small Alsatian puppy and attempted to eat it, much to the annoyance of its owner.

EVENTUALLY.... TO THE PUB, and the Down Downs.

• JULIA For having another 33rd birthday and letting her dog attack Trevor

• ALLAN Accused of sexual deviation because he hangs around in bras ?

• MANDY 75 runs ---- or is it 74 plus 1

• FERGIE For trying to disguise an enema bag as an ordinary water container

• t'ROPER For succesfully losing Trevor

• JACKIE For seriously running.... and

• RUSSELL For seriously clyping on her

• HASH SHIT........ to STEVE " LOBOTOMY "

The ultimate Hash award to a true star of the Hash..

Steve, arriving late, could find no Hashers and no flour. On enquiring of a passing pedestrian as to the whereabouts of the motley crew he was informed of the close proximity of some white stuff. On checking this out Steve found the ON - IN sign ----- aha, said he, that's the way!!! BRILLIANT.

A FLIPPY SCRIBE

PS.

What was Ross doing with Julia’s clothes, and why did he return them WASHED? More intriguing still, why has he kept a pair of stockings?

Those that ran:

Trevor ANCELL Little Shit

Fiona BICK Fifi

Jackie LITTLE

John CARTER JC

David FERGUSON Fergie

Valerie FERGUSON

Ian FORBES Flippy

David FYFE

Rita GRAHAM One Cell

Ross HALL Running Sore

Sarah INNES Pink Panther

Russel JORDON

Julia FYFE Bannana

Steve LEVER Labotomy

Dot MARTIN NotDot

Gerry POTTER The Envoy

Kent PRESTON Superman

Anne RICHMOND Thruppenny Bits

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Theresa ROPER Mrs T

Angela SMITH

Alan TAILFORD

Dave TAYLOR

Mandy WOOD Ball Tweaker

Run (Walk)! 246

Thanks (Do we?) to Superman.

Venue: Slug Road -(and on to Banchory.)

A group of very hungover people (why not organise party's on Friday Nights?) started off on this, what Superman called "Megarun". An "I feel sorry for myself" Alison awarded the first down-down to Kent, in the hope that it might slow him down, but it takes more than a pint to slow him down.

The first section of the run went a long way uphill and caused most of us to stop running and walk. I really don't know what happened during the rest of the run as I ended up in the tail and decided to short it a little bit. Not as short as some people, though, who had to call it

a day after suffering heavily from poorly side effects and had to be escorted back. (Rita.)

Arriving early back at the cars we found that there was hardly any mulled wine left and wondered why Alison, who had stayed behind, looked so satisfied. As it was freezing, I decided to go to the ON-ON-INN (The Marine at Stonehaven), expecting to be the first to arrive there. I proved to be wrong as always. Slowly the rest of the hash came back and at 1500 hrs the Down Downs were awarded as follows:

Sarah: For being first back.

Paul: Wearing socks with his Flip Flops.

Diane: Falling off the drainpipe after the party last night trying to get into Monty's flat for some nooky, after locking themselves out.

Ross: 100th run. Lucky it was high tide as he went over the harbour wall.!

Hashit: Kent - getting John Mcinnes lost. Setting a Mega Run. - pretending to be Superman.

Rumours:

Sarah (Pink Panther) - pretending to have given up smoking, drinking, and maintains she's still a virgin. !!

T'Ropers- have a Pyjama party on 5th Dec and have very cheap carpets in the house. Also, Theresa doesn't have any pyjamas. !!

Your loving scribe,

Simon.

[Do all you girls know I'm a Helicopter Pilot.? - Come outside and I'll show you my Chopper.]

Those that ran:

Trevor ANCELL Little Shit

Doug BATHGATE Nureyev

Bev BROWN Brown Owl

Peter CROMBIE

Paul DUMONT Fourex

David FERGUSON Fergie

Valerie FERGUSON

David FYFE

Rita GRAHAM One Cell

Ross HALL Running Sore

Sarah INNES Pink Panther

Kathleen KEMP

Julia FYFE Bannana

John McINNES Michelin Man

Diane SMITH Gold Top

Andrew MOWAT Fallguy

Kent PRESTON Superman

Martin RICHMOND Sonic

Anne RICHMOND Thruppenny Bits

Theresa ROPER Mrs T

Alison SMITH Big Al

Dave TAYLOR

Helene VAN NOORDENNE

Simon WIJKER

Mandy WOOD Ball Tweaker

RUN 245

Portlethen

2/11/87

It came to pass this sunny morn, and moi not being quick enough, and too hungover enough to duck out of the way, got knobbled to scribe yet again.

Well what can I say about this fantastically laid.... (Talking of which rumour has it at the end of the harvest Sarah got her oats), run organised by Terry Waite, moi and Helen Smith. R.A. please note Helen has only done five runs and wanted with eagerness to learn how to lay a run - potential down-down I think, she hasn't even paid her subscription yet.

Well we reasoned that there was enough flour splattered around to start a bakery, but this did not prevent John McInnes from disappearing towards the sea (with bucket and spade) where no flour was to be seen. A frustrated sand-castle builder obviously as we didn't see him again until back at the On-Inn.

There was plenty of puddles, mud and shiggy to start with which satisfied our mucky members, followed by some nice road runs which pleased the rest. However we did pass a field of stallions who having spied Sarah romped eagerly over - remember Sarah:

Stallion = stink pantion

pink panther

You have been warned!

Now it came to pass, and me being an ex-girl guide, noticed Wild Local running in what seemed to be on the wrong trail so I promptly shouted "Ronnie you're going the wrong way" to which he replied "but all the flour dots are this way", "Oh! Well" says I, "it must be the right way then". Now in my book having a slight lapse of memory, we set the run the day before, does not qualify me for a down-down for being a pratt, I prefer to call myself a strategic adviser, that's the last short cut you get from me R.A.

However, after all our efforts to set this mega run we did not expect to have all the hash bar two, disappear 2 thirds round back to the pub. This is the first hash in history where all the hares came in last.

Complaints received as follows:

• Sarah about Sula for sleeping with her all weekend and then running off with Trevor

• Sula about Sarah for 'Kiss and tell'.

• Ronnie being a vegie (i.e. Brussel sprout) for having to run past Donald's meat factory.

• Anne for getting her new trainers (why didn't anybody notice) muddy.

Down-downs as follows:

• Derek for putting his muddy feet on everybody's bum (except mine I might add).

• Me a 1/2 pint for my 50th run and another 1/2 pint for being a strategic advisor.

• Ann for her 75th run a 1/2 pint and another 1/2 pint for her new "Clean Ezee" act ie. Going home to have a bath before returning to the pub.

• Superman for managing to be an F.R.B. and an S.C.B. at the same time.

• J.C. and Fiona for being back first and for canoodling and kissy kissy in the lane, was awarded a pint c/w apple to which they slurped the beer and then passionately bit into the apple together ( a sight to behold, I can imagine what they do in private if that's what they do in public).

Quote of the week:

Fergie to J.C. and Fiona "it makes a change from biting the cherry".

Amazing event of the run:

I managed to run most of the way this week whoopee! But still came in last.

Your scribe of the week,

Rita

p.s.

If you want me to fill two pages of the hash sheet you'll have to provide me with more sleeze, gossip and scandal, so get cracking hashers!

Those who ran:

Trevor ANCELL Little Shit

Fiona BICK Fifi

John CARTER JC

David FERGUSON Fergie

Ian FORBES Flippy

Rita GRAHAM One Cell

Ross HALL Running Sore

Hans HARINGA

Sarah INNES Pink Panther

Russel JORDON

Kathleen KEMP

Julia FYFE Bannana

Steve LEVER Labotomy

Mike McGOWAN

John McINNES Michelin Man

Anne McLEAN

Diane SMITH Gold Top

Gerry POTTER The Envoy

Kent PRESTON Superman

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Theresa ROPER Mrs T

Alison SMITH Big Al

Helen SMITH Wifie

Alison STEWART

Jane STUNDON

Alan TAILFORD

Dave TAYLOR

Simon WIJKER

Wytske WINTER

Gary YATES

MEDIEVAL BANQUET

Ambling round the barn to join the days hash run, I got mugged by the R.A. into doing this job. So all those that chucked soup, bread, grapes, banana skins, beer, bales of straw and nearly whiplashed me to death, read on, because the pen is mightier than the sword!

The Medieval Banquet, set in the delightful grounds of Foveran House, enhanced by the sound of music, lilt of harps and delightful maidens escorted by their Sires. Thus, as I took my place at the table next to Dave Robb (stupid move), opposite Ronnie Robb (even bloody worse), I allowed my young lady (Maid Marion) to take her place. Then some great berk poured beer over her. Apparently she put a grape in his beer - she'll never learn. The soup course was served with most of it ending up in Dave Robb's lap courtesy of Ronnie who complained that Dave had scoffed his soup, so shouldn't enjoy his own.

Stuck in the middle of a re-enactment of the Battle of Culloden was not much fun, so I joined forces with Dave Robb to take on Running Sore, Walter, Friar Tuck (Derek) and Mandy on the right flank and J.C., Howard, Fergie, Numbskull, Martin etc. on the left flank managing to beat them back with volleys of bread and bananas.

Then music was heard from afar and three fair maidens entered ready to start a burlesque routine before the power failed. Five minutes later it came on with Fiona, Jane and Junky doing a well-rehearsed circus routine. I thought the circus girls should have stripped to leotards, apart from that Fiona's cartwheel, was a gem. Back to the swamp (the table) the main course started. I casually asked one of the Foveran staff; if she had served any other Medieval Knights - no this is the first and last she said as she surveyed what was left of the soup course and the fruit baskets (what great ammunition). Fortunately, the main course was too good to chuck around and it was most enjoyable - compliments to Foveran.

Another music interlude began with the sound of flutes playing and we were entertained by Theresa singing a lilting verse with a bearded beau who was eventually despatched by Howard with a "heed" and a knee to the groin.

A Crusader (Dad Dad) and a Gorilla (Ronnie) then raped Pink Panther (or someone like her) in another well-rehearsed routine!!!!

The bonfire was stoked up by our resident fire enthusiast (Numbskull) with half of the owner’s furniture. I am sure those doors were meant for something other than burnt embers.

After being whipped by Dave Robb and organising a down down for him in revenge, I was then ambushed with straw bales by Friar Tuck and Running Sore which had to be sorted out, I then had a dance with Maid Marion and legged it to a disco where four guys accosted me in the Gents because I was still wearing my Arab, Pope, Surgeons outfit.

The run was something else - short run Derek (The Hare) said. An hour later we were still running over sand dunes with half the female variety still out on the course. Two backchecks at the beginning sorted the men out from the boys and girls. Being up with the lead bunch (Dave Robb, Martin, Howard, a girl and a dog and two newcomers) we proceeded to find the dunes via a bridge in Newburgh. The way Beth, Pink Panther, Theresa, Jane and Fred were walking I doubt if they made the sea let alone Newburgh.

Ronnie insisted on checking out a backcheck after watching people running past him the other way. I thought the G.M. knew the ropes!!

Derek has either long bloody legs or else he had aerial support going over the dunes. It’s not funny running for two miles on sand when you have a five mile race in the afternoon.

Thus the Scribe had to leave early before the down downs to completely knacker himself in Kirkhill Forest.

It came to my attention the following:

1. The farmer is out looking for Derek, the Hare.

2. Howard is looking for his teeth on the sands after throwing up.

3. Junky is now known by her supervisor in Michies Chemists as Junky.

4. Numbskull likes poles and fires.

5. Pink Panther wears frilly knickers.

6. Fergie ran his 75th.

Those who ran:

Anne WILLIAMS Hash Junky

Fiona BICK Fifi

John CARTER JC

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

Anne Marie TURION

David FERGUSON Fergie

Valerie FERGUSON

Rita GRAHAM One Cell

Sally PATON

Ross HALL Running Sore

Sarah INNES Pink Panther

Julia FYFE Mum Mum

Anne McLEAN

Hector McLEAN

Kent PRESTON Superman

Martin RICHMOND Sonic

Anne RICHMOND Thruppenny Bits

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Howard ROPER Hippo

Theresa ROPER Mrs T

Alison SMITH Big Al

Helen SMITH Wifie

Dave TAYLOR

Derek WOOD Captain Bligh

Mandy WOOD Ball Tweaker

ABERDEEN*HASH*HOUSE*HARRIERS

G.M. D.FERGUSON

R.A. A.SMITH

HASHBEER T'ROPERS

ON.SEC T.ANCELL

HEAD HARE D. ROBB

HASHCASH I. FEGEN

EDITHARE B.BRICKNELL

HASHEET 236

11 OCTOBER 1987

******************

RECEDING HARELI NE

242 ***** ***************THANKS to LITTLE SHIT ********************** OCT 11

243 t'ROPERS UB40 CUNTESSWELLS? OCT 18

244 DEREK WOOD & ALISON SHORTEN DEREK OCT 25

245 GERRY POTTER & RITA NOV 01

246 SUPERMAN WILL IT BE STONEHAVEN AGAIN? NOV 08

247 VOLUNTEERS PLEASE NOV 15

248 HUGE ORGAN NOV 21

249 DAD DAD & FLIPPY ST ANDREW'S DAY NOV 30

250 VOLUNTEERS PLEASE DEC 07

251 SARAH & JUNKIE ANNUAL DRUMOCHTY RUN DEC 14

252 VOLUNTEERS PLEASE DEC 21

253 VOLUNTEERS PLEASE DEC 27

254 VOLUNTEERS PLEASE JAN

RUN THEMES

243 UB40 run.

244 Curtail Derek's length.

249 St. Andrews Day

251 Drumochty Run

DIARY

OCT 24 -- Medieval Banquet, Foveran House. Bev's birthday JUN 18/19 (1988) -- Mid Summer Bash, Foveran House.

At the AGM last Sunday the 'old' committee stood down, the 'new' committee were elected and the '87-'88 year commenced. The names of the incumbents are given above, although there wasn't room to include the JM's (to be announced shortly) or such stalwart committee members as The Duke of Edinburgh and The AA man. Following a closely fought) struggle with Jeffrey Archer, I now have the dubious pleasure of editing this esteemed publication, and should like to warn you that unless I'm inundated with witty articles, cartoons, etc you'll have to put up with my boring waffle - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

Next year's ski Hashpedition to Nethy Bridge could either be on the weekend of 8th January or the weekend of 11th March, if you have a preference for one of these then tell Trevor TODAY, as he needs to decide next week.

Those who ran:

Anne WILLIAMS Hash Junky

Trevor ANCELL Little Shit

Adrian ATKINSON Aids

Bertel BERTELSEN

Jackie LITTLE

Bruce BRICKNELL Pigpen

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

Anne Marie TURION

David FERGUSON Fergie

Valerie FERGUSON

George HADGRAFT

Ross HALL Running Sore

Russel JORDON

Tim LITTLE

Nicky McHARG Starving Artist

Yvonne MOIR

Diane SMITH Gold Top

Dot MARTIN NotDot

Kees PEPER

Gerry POTTER The Envoy

Liz REIJS

Martin RICHMOND Sonic

Anne RICHMOND Thruppenny Bits (Delilah)

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Jeanette ROBB

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Howard ROPER Hippo

Theresa ROPER Mrs T

Alison SMITH Big Al

Dave TAYLOR

Richard THOMPSON Stomper

Sheila HOMSON

Simon WIJKER

Mart WINTER

Wytske WINTER

RUN 241

+ AGM + Hashland Games

4th October 1987

We all assembled at Thainstone House, with a visitor, Chris, from about three different places around the world, and the return of Goldtop.

The route took the pack on a long loop around the grounds, with Numbskull giving Mandy a lift in his car for about the first half mile or so. After ten minutes of nettles, brambles etc. we found that we were in fact only some twenty yards away from the start! Then it was up the hill at the back of the hotel with Eric Brown (ex AH3) leading the way and traversing a field without finding any flour, an occurrence which was to happen more than once on the run, Little Shit did find a cow-pat which kindly jumped at him (well it was his 50th run).

Then it was on up again to the ladies check, where Mandy told RA Fergie to "Piss Off" when he suggested that she should check it out (and she wonders why she keeps being awarded the Hashit?).

On further up the hill with a small brat, who was showing the potential of being a really obnoxious person if he ever gets the chance to grow up? Then downhill at last with Little Shit trying to pass on his cow-pat, Pink Panther and the Rubberman talking about combine harvesters, and others getting lost due to the lack of flour.

Then it was on to the river, with the route looking remarkably similar to last year’s run but in reverse. The beer was as usual on the opposite bank, beside Dad-Dad and some particularly smelly shiggy. If we were cold before, then by the time we crossed the river we were freezing. When all the male parts were shrinking Laura's parts began to stick out and her language began to deteriorate, at comments from The Wild Local etc. By the way how did Numbskull get across the river and still stay dry? Even J.C. got his feet wet. After a while and having to call the people back who thought the trail carried on on the side with the beer (who needs flour?) it was time to negotiate the river again and re-join the wimps who had more brains than to get wet on a day like that. Unfortunately (?) Fergie baptised himself on the way.

The route then took us back via lots of small tracks, where Aids gave Pink Panther a bunch of flowers (true love?). By this time the pack had stretched out and Numbskull started shuttling the stragglers back to Thainstone House in his car, Rita and her pal were further behind than anyone imagined and missed out on this rare act of chivalry.

The pack then assembled around the barbecue to get heat and food, in that order. Does Dad-Dad know that tomato ketchup is for eating and not for throwing at people?

Around two o'clock The Wild Local stood on a table and conducted the AGM, in a similar fashion to a Russian Election!

Then it was on to the Hashland Games which deteriorated into a food-fight/rugby match, with the blue team winning (?). Is it possible to remove the food before the games start next year, as some people did put a lot of effort into its preparation?

Mr & Mrs Bentshaft received a Down-Down for leaving (I'll have to try this rouse some time) and I'm sure the good wishes of AH3 go with them in their new venture.

Running Sore.

P.S.

I would have mentioned Pigpen in the write-up but he collared me to do it very late in the day, so he doesn't deserve a mention.

P.P.S. I only mentioned him in the P.S. as he is doing the typing for me. (Thanks a lot Ross!)

Those who ran:

Trevor ANCELL Little Shit

Adrian ATKINSON Aids

Fiona BICK Fifi

Jackie LITTLE

Bruce BRICKNELL Pigpen

Eric BROWN Catweazle

John CARTER JC

John CRUICKSHANK Bentshaft

Raffaella CRUIKSHANK

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

Anne Marie TURION The Dutches

David FERGUSON Fergie

Valerie FERGUSON

Ian FORBES Flippy

Rita GRAHAM One Cell

Ross HALL Running Sore

Sarah INNES Pink Panther

Ian JOY Joy Boy

Julia FYFE Bannana

Tim LITTLE

Nicky McHARG Starving Artist

John McINNES Michelin Man

Diane MONTEITH Gold Top

Liz REIJS

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Alison SMITH Big Al

Helen SMITH Wifie

Simon WIJKER Simple SImon

Laura WILLISON

Leslie WILSON

Derek WOOD Captain Bligh

Mandy WOOD Ball Tweaker

Minutes of Hash Committee Meeting - 15th September, 1987

Present:

T. Roper, Trevor (?), A. Atkinson, A. Smith, R. Hall, H. Roper, Karen (?), J. Adams, Fegen

1. Hashland Games

Since Numbskull is setting the run and it's nowhere near Thanestone, a bus will definitely be needed. Numbskull will discuss this with John McInnes. The run will start at 11.00, returning to Thanestone approx. 1.00. Trevor is co-hare.

Food - JC will contact Cain, the Butchers for the meat and will also arrange the rolls (bread). Karen has volunteered (I think) to man the barbeque. Perhaps Cruickshank's missus will also help here. Salads, etc., will be supplied by Sarah (green), Numbskull, Trevor & Karen and anyone else who wants to.

Ronnie has negotiated the beer tent, first free beer, etc., with Thanestone.

Fergie volunteered (in his absence) to organise the games along with Val. Referees so far: Alison, Nicky, possibly Ross and Trevor, maybe Ann (can't remember really).

Cost for the day to be £6.00 per head, which includes the T-shirts and the bus for those who want.

2. Shell

There was a modicum of discussion as to whether the Hash should be affiliated to Shell's keep fit club.

3. Medieval Banquet - Foveran House Hares for the Sunday run (25th October) - Derek, Alison & Jed.

Accommodation - Need to check how many rooms are available for the Saturday night. It was agreed that the Hash should take the risk and book all his rooms, possibly paying £100 up front. Numbskull will negotiate with Foveran. He will also check if it would be OK for people to sleep in the barn. Cost of the rooms will be f15 per head - but does this include breakfast or not.

Food - Numbskull will check out prices with Foveran for food and booze for Saturday night. This should be based on a maximum of £15 per head. Also, cost of lunch Sunday although this would probably be pay as you go. Should perhaps check if we need to supply our own cutlery, etc. on Saturday night.

Booze - Quantities suggested were i keg real ale, 1 keg lager, 1 keg cider.

Entertainment - Theresa will organise this again. We will also need a disco, Numbskull will investigate this, hopefully about £50 - £60's worth. The banquet will start about 7.00 p.m.

Top table - to be absolutely fair, the top table this year should consist of the Committee and/or those with red hair.

Next meeting - next week, Numbskull's.

P.S. Numbskull needs Hares for 11th October.

ABERDEEN*HASH*HOUSE*HARRIERS

G.M.S R. ROBB(S)

R.A. D. FERGUSON

HASHBEER T'ROPERS

ON.SEC A. ATKINSON

HEAD HARE D. ROBB

HASHCASH J. CARTER

EDITHARE I. FEGEN

HASHEET 234

28 SEPTEMBER 1987

****************** RECEDING HARELINE ******************

240 *************************** THANKS TO BIG BEV & JULIA ******************* SEP 28

241 NUMBSKULL & ANNE-MARIE

HASHLAND GAMES 1st SUNDAY THAINESTONE OCT 4

242 T ROPERS UB40 OCT 11

243 GED & JANET MARATHON SOIREE CUNTESSVELLS OCT 18

244 DEREK WOOD & ALISON SHORTEN DEREK OCT 25

245 GERRY POTTER & RITA NOV 1

246 SUPERMAN WILL IT BE STONEHAVEN AGAIN? NOV 8

247 VOLUNTEERS PLEASE NOV 15

248 BIG BOOBS & HUGE ORGAN NOV 22

249 DAD DAD & FLIPPY ST ANDREW'S DAY NOV 29

250 VOLUNTEERS PLEASE DEC 6

251 SARAH & JUNKIE ANNUAL DRUMOCHTY RUN DEC 13

252 VOLUNTEERS PLEASE DEC 20

253 VOLUNTEERS PLEASE DEC 27

254 VOLUNTEERS PLEASE JAN 3

RUN THEMES

241 Hashland games, end of this committee as we know it. Ronnie's birthday, the thirties have arrived! ********* FIRST SUNDAY RUN!! ***********

242 UB40 run.

243 Marathon Soiree

244 Curtail Derek's length.

249 St. Andrews Day

251 Drumochty Run

DIARY

OCT 4 -- Hashland Games

OCT 24 -- Medieval Banquet, Poveran House. Bev's birthday

LAST MONDAY RUN

Tonight was the last Monday run for this year. If you turn up next Monday night you will be on your own -- together with any other idiot who does so. By the way, where is the run next Monday??...

ELECTION

At the forthcoming tashland Games (see above and watch this space), the old committee will be dissolved (in an acid bath), and a new one elected. Budding editors, accountants, organisers and anyone who thinks that we will like them performing in public, should make themselves known to a proposer and get in some lobbying. Don't be shy, last year's committee weren't, and look how well they turned out.

MEDIEVAL BANQUET

The MEDIEVAL BANQUET will be held at Foveran House, Newburgh on October 24 1987.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

THIS IS A BOOKING FORM.

PLEASE BOOK NOW

To use booking form, fill in name and info according to instructions.

Bloody do it NOW.

Hand form to committee with money.

BLOODY WELL DO IT NOW.

NUMBER OF BANQUET TICKETS @ £15 (or less)

NUMBER OF BED SPACES @ £15 (say if single/double)

NAME

ADDRESS

PHONE NOS.

RUN 240

Hares: BIG BEV & JULIA

"Pink and Yellow and ......." as the song goes. Actually the only pink and yellow on view was Sula's curlers (and the flour, but then it was too dark to see that).

In the gathering twilight, the hares were anxious to get on with the run lest it got dark (!) Ronnie almost missed his penultimate GM'ship and his pint from guest RA Gordon for having a great tan (not to say great legs).

Set off round what must have been the most obvious loop in the illustrious history of the Hash. Up another hill and the walking talking section gleefully pursue Bentshaft on what we were 100% confident was one of his mega-shortcuts - wrong. A few hundred yards later, the "On Inn" (facing the other way). Get thee behind me Satan (and Stomper on that bloody bike).

Shouts from across the river told us we were not after all alone. Six million false trails later, on up (naturally), out on to the road - streetlights, what a novelty.

Six miles (and no checks) later, into the woods. Voices cried out in the darkness, “watch that stick, mind that twig, aargh.......” Onwards through a building site, hotly pursued by the Night Watchman...

'Tis usually about now that the scribe throws in a few ditties, witty words, wrongdoings, etc., about/of his/her fellow hashers. However, it was by now too dark to tell with whom one was doing what.

On up yet again (after advice from a few locals) to the beer check, following Stomper's bicycle shaped necklace twinkling in the starlight. Had by this time fully expected said locals to have pinched the beer - lo and behold they hadn't (probably couldn't find it in the dark).

Back into the black forest and deep mud. No shiggy throwing however, nobody could spot John Seisme (legitimate target for the evening). Running (oh yes I was) through a park, angry spaniel biting at our heels, and once more out into the streetlights. Mine eyes were dazzled.

A couple of miles later, back at the Don View (where I wish I'd stayed).

Down Downs:

Not Dot - Nepotism

Mandy and Bentshaft - Mandy got stuck, Bentshaft un-bent it.

John Siesme - For leaving (can't actually remember if he did get a down down, but if he didn't he should have).

Trevor - I think

Hash Shit (minus T shirt) - Paul Dumont, for some unforgivable and instantly forgettable sin (probably turning up).

At this juncture, I am sure the Hash would wish to join me in thanking Numbskull for his superb work over the last year or so in producing this marvellous rag for us. May we wish him all the best in his new career?

Alison (Big Al)

Those who ran:

Ged ADAMS

Trevor ANCELL Little Shit

Ian BERTRAM

Bruce BRICKNELL Pigpen

John CRUICKSHANK Bentshaft

Raffaella CRUIKSHANK

Paul DUMONT

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

David FYFE

Julia FYFE Bannana

Rita GRAHAM One Cell

Ross HALL Running Sore

Sarah INNES Pink Panther

John McINNES Michelin Man

Anne McLEAN

Gordon PARK Biggles

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

John SISMEY

Alison SMITH Big Al

Helen SMITH

Richard THOMPSON Stomper

Anne WILLIAMS Hash Junky

Mandy WOOD Ball Tweaker

Run 239

Lauries, Altens

Hares: Big Boobs Bruce

Young Paul

I would like to say it dawned fine & fair but it was p*** down- quite a turn out nonetheless- even JC and Fiona - would have thought they had better things to do on a night like this - however rumour has it that someone owes JC money....

"Seasons of mist and fruitfulness" was just about right - well the mist anyway - as far as the latter I'm not qualified to say.

Difficult to say much more about the run because it was dark - Stomper was not to be caught out - lights on his mountain bike - stone dykes fixed him though!

For all it was wet no-one got shiggied despite the presence of Ross, Dad Dad, Pigpen etc - is there a theory here somewhere?

The On-In was something else. Conversation was non-existent (the AH3?) as we had to compete with an up-and-coming' band. I wish they wouldn't use our On-in to try out their latest amplifier, new lead singer etc. Numbskull at least got his money worth - he stole all the stale sandwiches

Down-downs were in the lobby - much to the dismay of the regulars, Oh well another pub we won't be let back into.

Dad Dad was RA - relief swept over me - he wouldn't dare give me Hashit or I'd dissolve his fan club:

DOWN DOWNS

Retard a pint of water for no reason in particular

Delilah wearing a sweatshirt sponsored by the Hash Arch Enemy.

Retard, Pigpen partnering one another

Liz (Hot lips) for opening her mouth - she's been warned about that before

Afterwards, a record turnout at the Curry house - Dad Dad couldn't make it cos he was still looking for his car at the On-In. Julia also didn't make it 'cos David 'forgot ‘to tell her which Curry house.

Several incidents occurred which make me feel we may not be welcome again

1. Retard and Bruce finished off next doors-chapatti!

2. Numbskull lost his credit cards and was trying to leave without paying

3. John Siesmi had a pressing appointment with a policeman.

4. McGuiness removed Hash Junkie's underwear at the table

5. Last but not least we forgot to tip them!

Mandy

P.S

Young Paul is still looking for a mucky woman who won't go to bed on the first date - in Aberdeen! You've got to be joking

P.P.S

I'm taking out a contract on Numbskull because I'm hacked off at being the F*** Scribe again!!!

Those who ran:

Ged ADAMS

Fiona BICK Fifi

Bruce BRICKNELL Pigpen

John CARTER JC

John CRUICKSHANK Bentshaft

Paul CULPIN Retard

Paul DUMONT

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

David FYFE

Julia FYFE Bannana

Rita GRAHAM One Cell

Ross HALL Running Sore

Jackie LITTLE

Tim LITTLE

John McINNES Michelin Man

Kees PEPER

Gerry POTTER The Envoy

Liz REIJS

Martin RICHMOND Sonic

Anne RICHMOND Thruppeny Bits

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

John SISMEY

Richard THOMPSON Stomper

Anne WILLIAMS Hash Junky

Mandy WOOD Ball Tweaker

RUN NO 237

WARREN WOOD, DURRIS

G'Day.

I knew I had made a big mistake in waring my Cairns Hash" T-shirt (name drop, been there, done that, etc) when Hash Junkie and I arrived at the car park - it was bloody freezing. And everyone else was dressed in the latest designer tracksuits (only why it is that Fegan still looks like a moron, even when dressed in expensive togs?). “Ho hum”, I thought, Aberdeen Hash is still a Poseur's delight. This thought was only reinforced when JC turned up with 2 windsurfers on top of his car, only to be outdone by Mr Poseur himself, Stomper, who drove up in his Vorsprung Durk Technic (or something like that) Audi complete with the latest toy of the Yuppies, a mountain bike. Not content with that Stomper also insisted on riding the thing on the Hash. Does this mean that we can now ride horses on a Hash too? Or perhaps go piggy back? I know. We'll just drive our cars round the trail, forget all this silly running business.

I can't remember who got the down-down at the beginning - I was being groped by JC at the time (so exciting) off we all set down the road, after being assured by the hare, Martin, that it was the “on on”. Never trust him again. On back up the road and into the woods.

I had forgotten the delights of hashing with Aberdeen - how the "men" (I use the term loosely) run through puddles and not round them as in Australia (been there ... etc), the running/walking doubled up through scratchy trees, clambering over the debris left behind by those hunky loggers – “I'm a Lumberjack and I'm okay” - but wait a minute..

“WHERE'S SELWYN???????”

“What has happened to that delectable piece of ass?????”

“Where is our hero???”

Please turn the page to get the answer to this $10,000 question.

A. He's become a pop ceilidhstar, off travelling the world ( well, Ireland) forgetting all about the SAS - Selwyn Appreciation Society to all you new runners - Wail!!!!

Back to the run, as I was doing my usual SCBing, (so nice to see that the Walking/Talking section has grown). I don't know what happened on the actual run, but here are some edited highlights - Stomper after insisting on riding his bike, stuck to all the walking trails and refused to do a Rambo on a Bike impersonation down this teeny weeny little hill .... What a wimp! Meanwhile, Young Paul now known as Fourex due to his striking resemblance to an Aussie, proceeded to do a delightful rendition of Swan Lake in the trees, such a pity he fell flat on his face. And Joy Boy......... what has happened to him? He's so quiet, so clean, he runs, he doesn't throw shiggy at you, he no longer asks any girl within 10 feet if she fancies a bonk. Must be the effect of his new woman and living in London that does it.

Dad Dad and Running Sore (so well named) did have an attempt at throwing some shiggy at us, but missed. Dad Dad's eyesight must be getting bad (old age or something) and of course we all know Ross is blind as a bat - why else would he go around with a hair style like that?

The run was good, but it was getting rather dark by the time I got back, ok so I was last, what's new? At the car park I noticed that the soft drinks outnumber the beers by at least 3 to I. Is this because JC is tighter fisted than ever? Or is it because AH3 are becoming wimps? (Despite the Bum award)

At the On Inn, good old Irvine Arms, the RA Martin awarded the following down-downs.

• Young Paul Fourex - mooning at the RA, disgusting sight too.

• Anne Hash Junkie - for enjoying the porn movies on the coach to Nashash.

• Stomper - for that bike

• Numbskull - for that tracksuit, when do you go to Brazil?

• Ian Bertram - 25th run

• JC - 100th run

• Me - coming back from where?

Hashit to Young Paul Fourex for changing into his nightshirt to kip on platform 19 at Waverely Station.

Pink Panther

Those that ran:

Ged ADAMS

Trevor ANCELL Little Shit

Bill BALLINGALL

Angelica BARTSCH

Ian BERTRAM

Derek BLAKIE

Donna CAMPBELL

John CARTER JC

Paul CULPIN Retard

Paul DUMONT Fourex

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

Julia FYFE Bannana

Ross HALL Running Sore

Kevin HUDSON

Sarah INNES Pink Panther

Ian JOY Joy Boy

Jackie LITTLE

Tim LITTLE

Hugh McCLURE

Ian McDONALD

Walter NICKERSON

Kees PEPER

Gerry POTTER The Envoy

Martin RICHMOND Sonic

Anne RICHMOND Thruppeny Bits

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Theresa ROPER Mrs T

John SISMEY

Alison SMITH Big Al

Brenda TAYLOR

Richard THOMPSON Stomper

Eric THOMSON

Helene VAN NOORDENNE

Anne WILLIAMS Hash Junky

Wytske WINTER

Derek WOOD Captain Bligh

HASH DRIVEL AND SUNDRY COMMENTS ON RUN #236

& KIRKHILL ON 31st AUGUST 1987

Despite, or perhaps because of the absence of the usual complicated route sheet, some 26 hashers managed to assemble at Kirkhill Wood for last week’s run. Ross's pre-hash warm-up was terminated when Dieter stopped and proffered a lift for the remaining 200 yds to the start.

Having exhausted Fine Fare's supplies of flour the two hares strutted around the start -- Joy Boy fatigued by the effort of laying more dots per square inch than can be mustered by your average off station T.V., whilst Stomper, refreshed after a few days holiday somewhere in the depths of Mobil's North Sea acreage, had contrived to fly back in time to help with the spelling of the ON-INN marker!

JC, acknowledging that an obligatory can of ale might be coming his way to mark the culmination of his masochistic endeavours to attend 100 On-Inns, had, in a moment of rare extravagance, upgraded the normal pitiful, piss flavoured offerings of the Hash Dray to include a couple of crates of McEwans.

Stealing a 50 yd start on the On-On being called, Michelin Man proceeded to cover the ground at an uncharacteristically swift pace to reach the first check before Bentshaft and Rafaella had even departed the car park!

What with the main AH3 rowdies out of town for the week-end (inflicting their presence on Nash Hash), the favourable climatic conditions and dry terrain, a clean hash seemed on the cards --- but no.... Dad-Dad made his presence felt by cold bloodedly hurling a dollop of hard won shiggy at the hapless, victimised JC. Ross also, soon warmed to this pursuit, though he seemed to find Mandy easier (if not quieter) prey.

With Michelin Man now "tyred" out, Numbskull took advantage of the relatively straight-forward trail to briefly sample the heady delights of being a front runner. Upon blundering into a check, overcome by his enthusiasm, he set off eagerly in search of the next trail -- under the misapprehension perhaps, that Joy Boy's finances had stretched to the provision of a beer check (as well as a new house and kennel!).

Eventually emerging from the undergrowth onto a forest track the pack regrouped. Using this great sporting occasion as a marketing opportunity for her framing business, Picasso brought up the rear, desperately offering bulk discounts to Fiona.

The next section involved a traverse along a particularly muddy path which brought out the true Jekyl Hyde nature of that cad Martin Richmond ---- whatever does the lovely, luscious, Anne see in a knave who, lying in wait and heavy with armfuls of gooey gunge, is prepared to fire salvos of the stuff at point blank range at unsuspecting tail enders flying the flag of truce! It was enough to make Manders scream (again!).

The trail ended by a derelict car which looked as if it had had the misfortune to have been last driven by the Ginge Minge, and here Angelica breathed a sigh of relief, -- for once she had avoided the consequences of being caught up in other people’s shiggy battles, and looked resplendent in her clean romper outfit! Alas fate dealt her an unkind blow in the form of a last minute offensive by persona-non-identifia on the (principal) hare, which savagely quashed her hopes, dignity and cleanliness.

..... And so to the On-Inn, that familiar hash haunt, the Northern Lights, where it soon became apparent from the comments of the bar staff that our illustrious Wild Local and Maggie were teasing one another by their mutual absence...

Having slurped his way through a 1/2 pint John (Stud) Sismey's tongue loosened dramatically and his imagination took him into a fantasy world. He let slip word of his devastating success with those of the other sex, and as a token of our envy was treated to a down-down (in an attempt to reduce his capabilities to that of his less fortuitous fellow mortals).

• Ross, by virtue of being a "git" was obliged to partake off the amber nectar by means of a straw, whilst

• Jackie (Hush Doggy) Little received a 1/2 pint (funds being tight) for wearing her new (ish) trainers in the On-Inn (someone was bound to notice after 3 weeks!).

• Mandy (distinguished by coming 25 times in a row!) and a clean Nicki were each presented with a miniature glass (*) of god knows what to (D) squared, whilst

• JC was favoured with a full pint for his 100th.

In appreciation of his Ben Johnson imitation at the start John McInnes gulped his way through a pint and it is estimated that somewhat more than 50% of it did indeed go down his throat!

Well, I said that funds were tight!

Jolly,Centenarian.

Those who ran:

Angelica BARTSCH

Fiona BICK Fifi

Derek BLAKIE

John CARTER JC

John CLUBE

John CRUICKSHANK Bentshaft

Raffaella CRUIKSHANK

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

Ross HALL Running Sore

Ian JOY Joy Boy

Jackie LITTLE

Tim LITTLE

Nicky McHARG Starving Artist

John McINNES Michelin Man

Bernard MULLER

Martin RICHMOND Sonic

Anne RICHMOND Thruppeny Bits

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

John SISMEY

Richard THOMPSON Stomper

Eric THOMSON

Mandy WOOD Ball Tweaker

Joyce WYNESS Smiler

NASH HASH 87

Royal Berkshire

I could tell it was going to be a good weekend, when boarding the train at Aberdeen, Ronnie and I surveyed our victuals for the journey to Edinburgh. Six cans of beer, a bottle of Asda sherry (1.99), some runny Stilton a block of marzipan and a carton of custard!

Pouring ourselves off at Waverley, we wobbled down Rose St and met up with the rest of the Scottish contingent for Nash Hash 87, from Edinburgh, Hamilton, Elgin, and the rest of the Aberdeen bunch.

The coach trip to Berkshire was a hideous ordeal, accompanied by such delightful movies as "Candy goes to Hollywood" and "Coming from behind". Theresa and RR kept each other awake with comments like "It looks like a cat with it's throat cut" and "Why do all the girls in these movies have such small hands?". Ged and an expectant KP pretended to be asleep, though Ged kept retiring to the loo for manual relief.

And so on-on to Binfield Heath, where we were immediately set upon by the East Grinstead boys who managed to jeopardise Ronnie's family allowance in what was to become their only successful sortie of the w/e.

The first afternoon was uneventful, save for a short 4 mile (Oh Yeah!) hash that took 2 1/4 hours to complete, and during which 300 hashers were chased across a field by an irate farmer in a tractor. The shiggy recce was completed on schedule, and we retired to the beer tent where we were soon picked out by the London Hash as "Those nasty Aberdeen boys who splashed through all the puddles and threw all that mud on the way round!".

Timed to perfection, the sex appeal in the form of Hash Junkie and Aussie Sarah arrived, just as the run finished. Howard and Bruce (PigPen) swelled the Aberdeen contingent to nine, and off we headed to the marquee for the evening's entertainment. The band were v.g. but there was nearly a riot when the bar was closed at 12:30. This too, after idle boasts in the pre-match blurb about the brewery not believing we could drink all that much beer. General singing ensued, with RR giving a commendable rendition of "Gees a Gobble" by way of a lullaby to us all, accompanied by bulk flatulence from PigPen and the girls in the mixed sex tent.

On the Sunday morning, an urgent enquiry took place into the reasons why the bar was closed so prematurely the previous night. The Berkshire G.M. came out with "There would have been plenty of beer if everyone drank sensibly". Through loud guffaws, there was general agreement that nobody had come to Nash Hash with the intention of drinking SENSIBLY!

The Sunday hash was far more sensible, including plenty shiggy (Aberdeen 5 East Grinstead 1), and a beer stop in a Yuppie pub. PigPen stooped to a new low by helping himself to the bar snacks with shiggied hands and leaving stains over the remaining food. The Yuppies didn't know where to look!

On-In was via a deep puddle, and true to form, in we all dived and got lagged in mud along with two poor lasses from the Edinburgh hash who just happened to be passing.

Back at the beer tent, RR, PigPen, Ged, Howard and Young Paul became the most photographed shiggy covered hashers of the w/e. Bulk drinking and sunbathage were followed by Hashland games, in turn followed by some tricks Sarah learned with Baby Lotion out in Aussie. She also taught us how to do foot and body massage.

As it looked like lack of beer was imminent, the Scottish contingent stocked up for the evening and when the Jazz band failed to jive we retired to a campfire of benches and barbeque supports to witness Howard falling asleep in a clump of thistles. The Edinburgh GM, George, excelled himself by setting off all the fire extinguishers while the campfire blazed only feet from HIS tent!

The final day's hash was once again far too long for our liking and the East Grinstead mob escaped. However, the Aberdeen lads held their own Shiggy Chuckin' fight and returned to the site with most of Berkshire's clay topsoil in our ears. Realising they had been out-shiggied over the whole three-day event, East Grinstead presented us with the Bum Trophy in a sincere and touching ceremony.

The trip home, (after curry for lunch in Henley), was accompanied by Candy from Hollywood once again and the remainder of the booze was finished by Howard. PigPen, as usual, slept. We'd missed the last train home, so Hash Crash ensued on Platform 19 at Waverley.

Young Paul.

RUN NO 235

HARES AND TERRY WAITE AND MANDY

THE CONSULTANTS RUN - NINE STANES, DURRIS

1. I am under strict orders from his almightiness Grand Master (Bator) to create profound and illuminating script regarding the run. There have been unhealthy rumouring’s lately that the recent exquisite calligraphy stems from the "Sun". Not so I contend, each and every run is I am sure personally scrutinised and followed with fanatical diligence and occasional enthusiasm. So it was with this run. If you doubt my word note how on each run when the "Scribe" is mentioned, the pack scarpers and an amazing number of excuses, reasons, uttered as to why they should not be volunteered.

Is it because you fear the Grand Master (Bator) NO "Well, then what makes you depart from the normal vehemous though incisive, weekly dispassionate tearatology?" I'll tell you why, it’s because of the forthcoming Hash Elections. Anyone seen half able to string a row of words into a sentence will become EDITHARE.

2. For those who are not aware, Terry acts as a Consultant Engineer on a number of government projects. He prescribes certain remedies, methods for achieving results different from the norm. What has always been puzzling is the costs they arrive at. Well I've cracked it.

3. At the first check Terry called ON-ON, before the trail was found. Being Head Hare and Scribe for the evening I enquired why? Politely, but firmly I was informed that about 97K people were on the run and they were going the wrong fucking way. This would have been alright, but being an astute person, I had previously only managed to arrive at the number 27, never mind the thousands. This explained a lot in the way of costings. What is his %age?

To the method Consultants use, I have in the past also found to be confusing. Why was it when I arrived at the third check it was my second with people arriving in all directions of the compass? At the fourth, it was my third check and the second time I'd been there! The Beer check was the 7th, but my fourth. Beer check, crap, the first 4 cans found were Diet Coke. Instant denials from Terry - "It's all Mandy's doing". Bring back the Trades Description Act. The good part of the run so far was that being the 7th check, I had not seen Ronnie (Wild Local) since the start. Full marks for this, but instead the Hares had found a Scot (!!!) with a Yankee accent, from Paris, in the oil business YA KNOOW and a mouth to render the Grand Canyon redundant.

4. The final check and ON-INN was the 9th and my fifth and I only SCB'd once. Mandy being co-hare got lost twice, both different hare runners, and she was assisting to find the correct track, but why the hand prints on her shorts.

Being Head Hare and DAD DAD I receive some strange letters begging advice which I am only too pleased to pass on, eg

Dear Dave

My girlfriend is rich, owns a pub and is a well-known nymphomaniac. We have been seeing each other for five years, and I can't take much more of it. My hair, what's left of it, is now changing colour rapidly, my legs are striped with varicose veins and I've got a new set of false teeth. The doctors say my heart is beating unevenly and I'll slowly go blind. I get about with the aid of a stick, but not for long distances, owing to bronchial tubes being blocked. She holds orgies every Tuesday and parties most nights. In fact tomorrow is my 21st Birthday.

Yours

Geordie Ged

Marathon Man

This is only one of many moving letters I receive each week. Most of us sensible chaps don't believe in such things and usually discussions of this nature overshadow the run which is a pity as it was almost average. The best thing about our Average Aberdeen runs is that if the fancy garb or the mud doesn't cloud your brain, then Hash chips certainly keeps your mouth occupied. Please if the Yankee Scot arrives in future order a large VAT to keep him quiet.

DOWN-DOWNS

• Terry Waite and Mandy - lost twice and she laid the trail, also too clean.

• Yankee Wankee (Scottish?) - too many checks!!! and for just being there.

• Retard - Cos he is backward and runs through backchecks.

• Wanderer - Not wearing the Hashit T Shirt

• Poppet (Paul Dumont?) - HASHIT - Complained about a broken finger nail.

DAD - DAD

Those who ran:

Doug AITKEN

Bill BALLINGALL

Fiona BICK Fifi

Derek BLAKIE

Bev BROWN Brown Owl

Alan BRUNGER

John CARTER JC

John CLUBE

Jim COYLE

Steve CUDDY Hillary

Paul CULPIN Retard

Paul DUMONT

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

Alastair GRANT Spankie

Ross HALL Running Sore

Ian JOY Joy Boy

Jackie LITTLE

Tim LITTLE

John McINNES Michelin Man

Mark MELLOR

Bill MORRISON

Gerry POTTER The Envoy

Martin RICHMOND Sonic

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

John SISMEY

Eric THOMSON

Derek WOOD Captain Bligh

Mandy WOOD Ball Tweaker

Joyce WYNESS Smiler

Run 234

Storybook Glen

Hares: Julia, Little Shit and Sula

Dear Hashers

Numbskulls moving finger has picked on me again. It makes a change from its usual haunt I suppose. The usual crowd of infants turned up anticipating playing with the kiddies’ games. As usual, celebration runners were nominated for anointing - in this case, Ann and Walter. Can't we choose one of the clean runners for a change?

The run; those who had been there last year remembered and watched all the others charge down the hill, the road, over the fence and back again. You should know that we always go into the woods.

First quote from the restyled Nikki "Och - I've never been first to a check before' - and ran straight through it!

At least, some shiggy of varying quality. We ought to have a grading system - there have been complaints! Evidently the lumps have been too lumpy and draw blood. So its 1-5 on smell and 1-5 on consistency. The trouble is at 5/5 it dribbles through your fingers and you can't get closer than 20 ft.

Back to the run: The usual standard of forest run except that the drainage ditches are few and far between. Beer checks have returned as have river crossings. Wimps are on the increase and all afraid of a little bit of water. Being a gentleman, I carried the new runner, Joyce across to save her getting wet. I failed, but the struggle was worth it. Suddenly, it's all over, except for the playground.

Runs do seem to be getting shorter - hares note. All the games are just at the right level for you lot. So, for once, were the pots in the gents - special low level ones for our smaller brethren.

Numbskull found himself a huge phallic rocket which started undulating in front of him. Usual offers to every available female (no Anne Marie). Could this be an 'into stella space probe'. More wimps on the slide. Some were afraid to let go at the top.

And back to the beer. Call that beer? Hash dray - stop buying obscure Vietnamese lager with 12% extra. It's gnats piss. So say the regular GP drinkers.

And into the on-inn. The landlord must be blind and forgetful after last. year - remember last year - E. Grinstead? Nuff said. The landlord won't even let us clear up after down downs inside! Do you think he wants us back again?!!! I asked big Bill for a pencil or pen to write this. After 5 minutes grovelling in his makeup bag he failed. Presumably he's run out of eyebrow pencil or whatever he uses.

Paul (Quaife) your loss is our gain. He lost Brigette and didn't notice till we did. She was among the 6 tail enders who claim to have stopped to watch the ponies. Are they really voyeurs or is this just an excuse! It also doesn't explain the mud on Mandy's bra which she insisted on showing to everyone. She claimed the finger prints were Derek’s and, after each of us had placed our hands across it we agreed. No one else has a span that big.

Quotes -

from Jacky: "The softer it is the more it smells - oh shit - right into that one”

from Bev: 'I gave Stomper a blow by blow account'.

and

Referring to lifting a certain irate Jock's kilt. "Five of them lifted it up and I had 3 hand on it.”

Welcome to 2 visitors from Qatar - remember when you go back to the gulf for 3 swim, don't hang on to the buoys with the hand grips (Paul Davidson & Rob Welsh).

Down Downs

Mandy & Ginge for enjoying swimming - Mandy?!!!

Ross for coming 25 times in a row.

Walter ran away on 25th run!

Ann 50 runs and having mud in her knickers (Is there anything between her and Mandy - mud wrestling perhaps?)

John McGuinness because he likes Dutchmen - particularly the guest RA Simple Simon.

John Cruickshank for shortcutting. He can't take his pint! Is this wedlock?

Hashit the Wanderer - John Sizzins for skiving off.

NB RAs shouldn't use notes.

All the Best Graham XXXX

Those who ran:

Trevor ANCELL Little Shit

Adrian ATKINSON Aids

Bill BALLINGALL

Fiona BICK Fifi

Derek BLAKIE

Bruce BRICKNELL Pigpen

Bev BROWN Brown Owl

Alan BRUNGER

John CARTER JC

John CLUBE

John CRUICKSHANK Bentshaft

Raffaella CRUIKSHANK

Paul CULPIN Retard

Graham DALZEIL

Janet DAVIDSON

Paul DAVIDSON

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

Julia FYFE Bannana

Ross HALL Running Sore

Fiona KING

Jackie LITTLE

Tim LITTLE

Nicky McHARG Starving Artist

John McINNES Michelin Man

Mark MELLOR

Bill MORRISON

Walter NICKERSON

Declan O'BRYNE

Gerry POTTER The Envoy

Kent PRESTON Superman

Bridgette QUAIFE

Paul QUAIFFE

Martin RICHMOND Sonic

Anne RICHMOND Thruppeny Bits

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Howard ROPER Hippo

Theresa ROPER Mrs T

Alison SMITH Big Al

Brenda TAYLOR

Eric THOMSON

Robb WELSH

Simon WIJKER Simple Simon

Anne WILLIAMS Hash Junky

Derek WOOD Captain Bligh

Mandy WOOD Ball Tweeker

Joyce WYNESS Smiler

Run 209 Bennachie 15^th MARCH 1987

Hares: Sarah Innes / Julia Fyffe...

Having been away at the Peebles 10th the previous week, I ended up phoning Sarah at 10-00 to find out where this Sundays hash was.

Arriving at the Donveiw Carpark just before 11:00am. I was just in time to find Stomper and Howard marking on the gravel the distances they thought Ian "Watch my knee” Fegen would skid when entering the carpark, in both cases they were wrong because Anne Marie was there to keep him be under the thumb.

My arrival was closely followed by that of the Pink Panther, JC (2^nds) and Alison, JC (2nds) comment on getting out of the car was “I'm not one of the hares was only here yesterday to carry the bag”, why he made Sarah walk I'll never know. .

It was one of those hashes that was never going to be fast, after only about 100 metres we met up with Ross Hall who was up to his knees un mud and locker as happy as a pig in shit.

We eventually got on our way again only to catch up with Julia to be told Bu her that she didn't know where the Trail went as she was lost again and in doing so found more mud, at this point it should be noted that Dave Robb at great personal Risk to protect Sarah from the mud slingers but it was to no avail she was dragged into the mud and covered from head to toe in shiggy. She also took this opportunity inform us of a fairly new runner that was not adverse to thing muddy, so only a short time later Ronnie and Ross made sure Sandra was suitably covered.

The hash ambled from one muddy patch to the next with everyone, apart from Ian 'Watch my knee' Fegen who took it in mind that any one going close to him, he hit with a big stick, getting coated with mud. he Wild Local had a very close inspection of the bottom of a pond and came to the conclusion that although there was no frog spawn it was still very slimy.

At this point I decided that I had had enough writing this fucking sheet so I went out for a few pints.

Three Days later I have started writing again, excuse the shaky hands.

All I have now left to do, because I’ve forgotten all the happened on Sunday is, remember the Down Downs:

'At the start: - to Fergie & J.C.(2^nd).

And at the end to:

The Flying Dutchman,

Simon (for trying to be a runner)

Sandra, with the lovely body (for being a true hasher)

Ronnie Robb and Dave Robb (all I have to do is mention mud and you know why)

J.C. (I think because Sarah likes seeing his body).

And Hashit went to Numbskull, or from now on known as I am 'Watch my knee? Fagen (because from what I can gather he's just a silly cunt).

Bye for now

Fergie

The Runners

Trevor ANCELL Little Shit

Fiona BICK Fifi

Katie BROOMFIELD

John CARTER JC

John CRUICKSHANK Bentshaft

Lester DESMOND

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

Anne Marie TURION The Dutches

David FERGUSON Fergie

Julia FYFE Bannana

Ross HALL Running Sore

Sara INNES Pink Panther

Andrew MOWAT Fallguy

Andy PATON Bald Eagle

Gaynor PATON

Sandra PHILIP

Gerry POTTER The Envoy

Kent PRESTON Superman

Martin RICHMOND Sonic

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Howard ROPER Hippo

Alison SMITH Big Al

Mick STUMP

Richard THOMPSON Stomper

Sheila THOMSON Visitor

Simon W IJKER

HASH NUMBER 208

8TH МARCH 1987

FEGEN . FEGEN - O MAN BARELY ALIVE. A MAN WHO CHOSE THE DELIGHTFUL, PICTURESQUE AND BLOODY DESOLATE MEARNS WOOD, SITUATED ALMOST TWO LIGHT-YEARS WEST OF STONEHAVEN, FOR THE VENUE OF THE ORGY OF DESTRUCTION. I SWORE NOT TO MENTION HIM, SO I WON’TT. SATURDAY, HE AND ANNE MARIE SAUNTEREO OF INTO THE WOODS FOR A BIT OF PLAY. SATURDAY, HE AND ANNE MARIE SAUNTERED OUT OF THE WOODS WITH 3 GOOD KNEES BEWEEN THEM. POOR NUMBSKULL. POOR US. AFTER YOUR AVERAGE SAFARI DOWN THE RIO SHIGGY TO REACH THE APPOINTED START, 17 VERY ASSORTED SOULS WERE INFORMED THAT NAVIGATION THROUGH THE GRUESOME SAVAGE WOODS OF MEARNS WOULD MORE OR LESS BE ON OUR TOD - MAME - ANNE ACCEPTED AS AN INSTINCTIVE SHORT-CUTTING HEATHEN. A QUICK WENCOME TO A VISITER FROM THE MAJORCA HASH - HA! HA! HO! HO! HE! HE! SUFFER – BABY - SUFFER.

AND OFF FOROWING A COMPLETE LACK OF SPOTS UP À SMALL STREAM. AMAZINGLY, ROSS SUDDENLY REALIZED WE WEREN'T ACTUALLY HASHING, BUT CROSS COUNTRY RUNNING. THE CENTRE COVERING OF SNOW GREATLY ASSISTED IN THE TOTAL DISAPPEARENCE OF FLOUR. FIONA, JC AND A SQUAD OF TELEPATHISTS. SOMEHOW REACHED A CHECK CUNNINGLY CONCEALED IN THE CENTRE OF A SNOW COVERED TRACK. DAVE ROBB, DEREX AND MYSELF WANDERED OFF UP A NICE WEE TRACK WITH NO THOUGHT OF COUNTING SPOTS. JUST ROUND THE HILL AND THERE, POOR DARLING, STAGGERS LONG JOHN FEGEN. "YOU BASTARD FUCKHEAD”, WE JOVIALLY GREETED HIM, AS THE ECHOES OF FORMER COMRADES MESHED WITH OTHER SINISTER SOUNDS - TREES CRASHED TO THE GROUND, WILD BOARS GRAZING, WOLVES CLEANING UP AFTER A TASTY HASHER. "DON'S SWEAR AT ME" REPLIES OUR HERO, “YOU NEED ME FOR THE DIFFICULT BITS.” WHAT A RUNT, EM? MYSELF, ADES, DEREK AND JANE NOW SAW NO ONE FOR ALMOST ½ AN HOUR WITH ME SHIVERING AND SHAKING WHILST STANDING ON A SODDING CHECK WAITING FOR THE PACK TO ARRIVE. LATER DISCUSSION INDICATED A TOTAL LOSS OF DIRECTION AND THEN MOTIVATION IN THE WOODS. EVENTUALLY, MAJORCA, RONNIE, FIONA ET AL ARRIVED IN THIS SORT OF HALF QUARRY THING - A 100' RABBIT WARREN? WE THEN SKIRTED ROUND THE HILL ABOVE THE VALLEY EYEING THE BOTTOM OF THE WEE GEN WITH MUCHO FEAR - A DISGUSTING RIVER-CROSSING LOOKED LIKELY, AND WE WERE NOT DISAPPOINTED.

DOWN. THE SQUAGGLY, TRUGGED, FLOGFULL SHOPE. TO THE NASTEST OF BITTERY BITEY, FROZY RIVER, STOMPER RAN SPILLING NONSENICAL OBJECTIVES FROM HIS GLOBBY BUT TRICEPTUAL FORM. SPLISH, AND THE FEET LIES. WERE MERE FROZY FISH.

IN ALL THIS TIME, A CAT - AS - TROPHY HAD OCCURRED! - WHERE WERE THE POUTING "PINK PANTHER AND OUR THO NEW RUNNERS, KANE AND SANDRA - BEWILDERED, VULNERABLE, COLD, AND PISSED OFF!

THE REST OF US GUZZLED THE VIN CHAND AND WAITED AND WAITED. .

HOOT! HOOT"! - WE WENT. [ ] - THEY REPLIED. AT LONG BLOODY LAST, WE COULD GENTRY CRUISE TO THE CHOSEN ALE-HOUSE - THE CAT INN AT CREELERLINE. MAIS NON !!! THE DREADED GINGERBREAD FEGEN HAD PLANNED A CROSS COUNTRY SHORT CIRCUIT VIA CRIEFF, COE AND CARDIFF. THIS SUCCESSFULLY DROPPED 6 CARS OFF THE PEACE CONVOY [PIECE OF FEGEN] LEAVING ONLY 7 OF US IN THE CREEL INN.

SEAFOOD WAS HAD. MONEY WAS EXCHANCED, THE PHONE RANG. JC, FONA, PP AND THE TWO NEW YOUNG THINGS (NYT’S) WERE ESCONCEO IN THE HEUGH STONEHAVEN - AND IMMOVABLE. AN IMPASSE WHICH LEAD TO NO DOWN DOWNS AT OUR END - SHOCK! HORROR! PROBE!

I SPRINTED BACK TO GET TO “PEGGY SUE GOT MARRIED” FOR 4 O'CROCK.

SMASH - DOOR OPEN, WHOOSH MANKY KEGS PUSHED OFF, SLURP, SPLASH - SIMULTANEOUS SHOWER AND CUP OF IT - SPRINT TO CINEMA - FILM STARTS AT 5.00. WOT A WALLY..

THANKS NUMBSKULL KNOCK-KNEE THE DWARF

ANNE MARE KLOGTULIP

THERESA A KWOK GLUVINE NGUYEN DURCH VORSPRUNG TECHNIK AND ALL OTHERS

C HEERS,

STOMPER

The Runners

Adrian ATKINSON Aids

Fiona BICK Fifi

Katie BROOMFIELD New runner

John CARTER JC

Lester DESMOND New runner

Ian FEGEN Numbskull

Anne Marie TURION The Dutchess

Ross HALL Running Sore

Sarah INNES Pink Panther

Sandra PHILIP

Branko RADDIEVIC

Dave ROBB Dad Dad

Ronnie ROBB Wild Local

Theresa ROPER Mrs T

Richard THOMPSON Stomper

Simon WIJKER

Derek WOOD Captain Bligh