Scribes 1999

#RUN #856

SUNDAY, APRIL 18TH, 1999

FROM "DUKES DEN", LOIRSTON COUNTRY PARK

HARES: 2AM & TONGUE LASHER

SCRIBE: THE LUM

In spite of whatever was going on elsewhere, at the penultimate Sunday run this winter (sorry, this spring!) there was a good turn-out of 30-40 #ers who apparently did not know sensibly to enjoy this sunny, though windy Sunday. They were all there, the GM, RA Megaphone at last (more about him later!) and the hares. Well, wait a bit, where was Klingon? It appeared he had Saturday night bribed himself out of his commitment (shame, no: SHAME! on him for that!) at great expense, a table at the Wooden Spoon Society 2nd inaugural annual dinner at Pitfodels' Marcliffe, well maybe a bargain at only £500.= and for charity! So why make fuss about it? Anyway, hares there were, but now 2AM (stepping in with ultra-short notice, full merit to him for this noble act!) and Tongue Lasher.

The GM, Rock-it had some problems getting heard, so I, the Lum, dared to utter a "##, Respect for the GM", and was duly and unanimously by the said GM appointed Right Honourable Scribe, which some of you present may regret or appreciate after this. Anyway, a returner, Tonto, apparently. Offered a job by BP in Dyce (does BPamock actually hire people these days? some secretary must have mistyped fire!) was honoured with a down down, and so was the last-minute-don't-we-have-any-other hare, 2AM; and so were we all, though only with half down-downs, i.e. 'downs'!

Duke's Den, for the occasion elevated from the usual and already quite ostentatious "Loirston Country House" to "Loirston Country Manor"! Or rather its car park, served as the starting venue, and later the ON INN. Penguin, bored either with the pub or his caravaner clientele had decided to close this watering hole, but had kept the taps open for the event, apparently free (he must really be getting on the old scotsman)! Bungie Finger had arrived with spanking new trainers and probably thought himself lucky not getting a pre-run down-down for that (alas...).

ON-ON was towards the Nigg round-about, and the course was thus pretty much set, as from Duke's Den you can really only go through Loirston Country Park or Kinkorth Hill. Still Young Man repeatedly tried to turn towards Shell, suffering from work nostalgia or bomb-Shell. Inevitably, though, the track went on to Kinkorth Hill with lots of check-points but few false blobs, so the run through the nice running area seemed to be rather un-eventful. But an hour into the run, taken round the Redmoss Industrial Estate and down to Cove Bay, and still no beer stop in sight some #ers started worrying, until the B was finally spotted on the cliffs off the altens Industrial Estate. From here on no further surprises were really possible (or enforceable), but the walkie-talkies had run out of steam and had to taken back by cars, Struth went missing and an emergency rescue team was sent out to find her, and the run ended where it had begun (surprise, again!)

In the ensuing circle, down-downs were first given to two Hariettes for comments on the RA, Megaphone's dress, but here the RA got more than he had bargained for: a veritable beer fight developed between Swampy and the RA. Who ended up as the victor was uncertain. Has Megaphone's absence been a blessing for us on his e-mail address list, then he has obviously forgotten about crowd control, since he was blatantly out of control. Little Shit cannot be on his address list, and got a down-down for not having noticed the absence of the RA (he may get himself another one when Silver returns and he fails to recognize her or her return?).

2AM got a down-down for an easy job finding his trail, and finished emptying the drink on the RA, really a target to tricky to miss. Young Man successfully accused Megaphone of being a raffler, so a down-down was unanimously awarded the RA by the crowd (another loss of control)!

Young Daniel was ceremoniously christened, eagerly indeed by his father, "Shiggy Shoes" for getting into all puddles on the track, though that hardly had got him half as wet as the touching ceremony! Finally, the hour of truth dawned on Bungie Finger who then had his well-earned down down out of his right (which turned to be the left, according the unfathomable wisdom of the RA) no-more-so-new-and-clean trainer, and Swampy got another from B.F.'s left sock, and she must have enjoyed it that sucker, for she exclaimed "lovely!" afterwards (BVADR!) !

Struth and her search team, Julek and Young Man got their punishments. A new runner "Son of a" from down-under, our Austraylean liaison with the Perth Hill Hashers was rewarded, as were returners Tonto and Farmer's daughter and boy-friend (boy-friend of the daughter, you silly fools)!

The #shit shirt went to Swampy who bought a mobile phone, locked i. electronically, and thus never managed to switch it on (what a little sexist beast she is: she went to the shop and refused to be served by any but a real man)! Little Shit tricked us to get a down-down for having had tests of his vasectomy, so beware harriettes, you now know what he cannot do for you, and what he is surely up to!

Eventually the hares, 2AM and Tongue Lasher got their reward for too short a run (less than two hours), no rain, no snow, no flour (or too much), probably too much sun, etc, and Penguin for free beer!!! and the Umpire got no down-down, and not because of Penguin's taps drying up!

In the Gordon Hotel Swampy announced that given a pint of Morgan's Spice, she would down it; later she reiterated that she would only accept further down-downs of Morgan's Spice.

RUN 855

12th April 1999

Hares: Hippo and Pigpen Scribe: Sergio

On-On: Monymusk On-Inn: Hippo & Mrs I's, Sauchen

Hares Hippo and Pigpen were there to greet me as I drove in at 10:50 this bright but chilly Sunday morning. Soon the revellers from the Medieval Banquet started rolling in, some looking more lively (and some more lovely) than others. The Body collected the money. Rock-it called us to order (no guests or new runners that I noticed) and stand-in RA 2AM awarded the pre-run beer to Farmer for wanting a blond to serve his bacon rolls in the morning: he was obviously keeping the good stories for later on.

The hares did their bit (a shortish run Hippo said), and on the stroke of 11:08 we were off. Out of the village and round a corner to the first check. FiFi and I went right - following Hubcap and a really fast bloke and we were soon rewarded when they called us on. A big back check and a bridge 'cross the burn and more checks, hills, trees, flour etc. You've all done it before - you know how it goes.

Olymprick spent a few minutes telling me about his recent abduction by aliens. In some detail he described the ascent into the UFO, his strange feeling of weightlessness, the dome-headed aliens with huge almond shaped eyes peering over their surgical masks as he lay suspended over the chrome operating table. He said he's now troubled by a small lump behind his ear and some scars that itch (but at least it explains the e-mails!)

After a hilly bit and a woody bit, and a bit of shiggy we arrived at a very pretty beer check at the edge of a small loch. Bess squared up to the resident swans a couple of times but didn't have the balls to take them on. Sensible creature. It's All Because and Batty arrived with tales of being chased off the bridge near the beginning and of having to make their own trail - serves them right for not finding out where the run started from - they went to Chez Roper! It was just a gentle jog from here back into Monymusk village and the run site.

After a swift glug of gluevine and a scan of the hash sheet the circle formed and 2AM went to work. The banquet seems to have been enjoyed by all – excellent food (congrats, Mrs T) but very, very cold seems to have been the general view. There was quite a lot of late night room hopping by the sound of things – not (as you might expect) in an attempt to conceive a millenium baby but to avoid the heavy duty snoring that reverberated through the house (and some said across the lawn as well). Down-downs to Olymprick (pity those aliens didn't sort his tubes out for him) and to .........Lifeboats as well!!

The charity t-shirt wearers had a drink as well, as did the hares, and I'm sure there were others, but the best was The Body, astride J.C.'s shoulders, who was awarded the hash shit for her performance as a wicked witch in the previous evening's skit (on Sonic's shoulders, but J.C. was an admirable stand-in). Neither The Body nor J.C. could work out whether it would be best i.e. have least repercussions) to drink it, pour it over the other or over themselves and so after a bit of experimentation a little of all three took place!

After this it was back to Hippo's for more. Mrs T brought out hot pies and pasties, sausages, spuds and beans and there was even leftover desert too. Pink Panther conned a fiver out of me (after I negotiated her down from £8) for a raffle that I was bound to win except that you tight fisted fuckers didn't buy all the remaining squares - so it will be appearing at every run and hash party until they are all sold!

The unofficial party award for inebriation was jointly won by Aids and Sonic, with 2 Dogs Fucking taking third place. Scumbag, Shubidoo and The Orienteer were notable by their absence on the run. Sonic and Joy Boy cycled to Sauchen (and at least Joy Boy didn't stop in every pub on the way this time; perhaps Sonic did???) maybe some others did as well. Joy Boy was threatening to cycle back to Aberdeen as well. Some people just don't know when to stop. But I do.

On-on, Sergio

helen tulloch From: PMAbdn@aol.com Sent: 02 April 1999 16:14 To: htulloch@aquatic.co.uk Subject: Re: are ewe here yet

Sunday run write up-late as usual - by Olymprick

in some circles "a ball breaker" but in the circumstances "a groin stretcher" after a while on trail to the first pub stop we relentlessly went with the tide for there was no "dippin out" till we got to the (a) bridge too far those who lacked direction went "millin about" and one by one did the "berlin pogo" like salmon desparate for their first shag the pack (at least those who had a good leap) headed back upstream but in order to preserve spunk avoided the main current in favour of the wee eddies without splilling a roe this flock of free range salmon (well "smoked" or "tinned" would have bin a bit ewegomatik) followed the bendy man and eastern woman's, by now, dried up and blanching wet spots or so nature would allow Atenbro to lead us to believe us mere camera men and sound women walked the trail to the hallowed maiting spot where before our eyes we beheld the ritual scene of gope drinking as the randy humped backed ones gathered at an ancient watering hole by the stanes of dane from whence thay had came or at least dreampt of returning to spend their remaining few oats. several of the more infertile of the speciece were back at the ancient burial ground (faint heart never fucked a pig) the difference between a dog and a fox in those days as now being 6 or 7 big sawllows of tiger at the end of the malay peninsula (anag) they were all there nearing extingsion charlie, minty, oink, the one from elgin with the big marbles mr nosence, olymprick, joy boy and this deaf and dumb woman known only as oral sex. (not a jacket to be seen ) this all happened before 2am as far as i know the moral of the tale was that thay all lived to be forty again and again.

thankx for cummin and sorry for those who couldn't for what ever reason oh illustrious GM i commend these words (but neither the spelling or the grammer nor the punctuation to thee) ewe know wh

Aberdeen Run No 852 – 215 March

Hare: Harley

Not many tuned up for this one which may have been due to the fact that a few folks had pissed off to Nethybridge for a naughty weekend. Numbers have however increased over the years on this run there being four last year and two the year before where Harley and the Penguin had to form a circle and award down-downs to each other. This week eight in total including Harley. The hare plus two dogs as opposed to hounds formed a high quality circle awarding the pre-run down-down to the returning Farmer.

Within the first 50 metres it became apparent that Farmer had not run in the past six months which makes you ask what had he been doing in that time which had sapped all his energy. Tell us about it Orra Quine. The run made a totally unnecessary loop north then back to the start, south for a couple of hundred metres from where no more flour was to be seen. The pack spread out and after ten minutes or so of non-existent flour The Penguin decided to return to the last known spot and proceeded to follow the trail all the way on flour but without the company of fellow hashers - so what's new you might ask apart from the fact that for a change he was the only one on trail. The others apparently did pick up a trail somewhere and did a separate run to The Penguin. It must have been one hell of a nin if you had done both runs..

All however arrived home safe and sound except ALHC/Ruth which did not unduly worry us except she had one of the two dogs which had to be returned to their owner Two Dogs F---g later in the day. Dog's Bollocks did a grand job as RA awarding himself a d-d for a reason I can't remember - ask More Butt. Since White Trash is the only one not named so far I'd better intention that he bought a round in the pub. Good lad. Harley for a great run but remember to use the occasional arrow to help those totally lost refinding the trail. I found an arrow and passed it three times - maybe that's why my run was so long..

Nethy Bridge 1999 - Run Number 852

The long awaited Nethy Bridge weekend started early for some dedicated souls, checking the cellars of the Heather Brae as early as mid afternoon on Friday. The main pack started to arrive at a more reasonable hour, having been restrained by such minor things as employment and kids. The main highlight of the evening had to be the sight of Silver holding court at the bar entertaining all and sundry and looking so well !!!! Good to see you back!

Saturday dawned bringing a flurry of activity from certain quarters with Wild Local and Joy Boy heading for the hills with ice axes and tampons. I decided not to ask questions. For many it was a case of a short walk and watching a real mans game on TV in the afternoon. Sadly the International Figure Skating was cancelled and we had to make do with the rugby instead. Preparations began for the Fancy Dress Party held in the Smithy. For many this was a case of removing clothing to a legal minimum and getting stuck into the beer.

The evening started well with vast quantities of fodder being provided - many thanks to all those who contributed – in particular to Sergio for his very tasty yellow thingy. The evenings guest RA, AIDS started proceedings with a sketch by Rock-it and yours truly, followed by Whats Off with a wonderful oration of various works of McGonigal.

Tongue Lasher and numerous others also contributed, however by this stage things were starting to get a little cloudy - my apologies to those not mentioned. One Liner impressed all with the quality and delivery of jokes. Your scribe, however did not. Also of lasting impression was the costume sported by Joy Boy - clearly of the "Never mind the quality feel the width" school, despite what Silver said about a similar encounter in her youth.

Amongst the evenings DDs were a couple of new hash names. Willie "Whats Off" Watson will now be referred to as Cosmic Willie due to his association with the mad bastards who apparently enjoy running up vertical slopes for days on end. The second went to Carina who was christened "Cunning Linguist" due to her fluency in over 3,700 languages, both forwards and backwards. Hilarity for the audience as Joy Boy with the aid of Wild Local launched and assault on your scribes cranium. Further amusement as AIDS & Two Moons and Rock-It & Struth were forced to exchange all clothes in a race against time, all whilst within a pair of what appeared to be very large used condoms. True to form AIDS and Two Moons was first passed the post proving that there really is no substitute for experience. After this display of athletic prowess there was much lurching and staggering around the floor - thought at the time to be dancing, but later proven on video to be far more sinister. More alcohol (than was good for anyone) consumed and various water pistol fights ensued. The party went on well into the wee small hours, finally breaking up/ winding up / collapsing * at around 4:30am.

Sunday dawned. Then it sensibly went back to bed and dawned again a few hours later.

Much frantic activity in kitchens and bathrooms accompanied by some very deep sinister rumblings from Rock-Its chalet, which should keep the Swedish seismologists entertained for a while. Most of the party assembled and headed off to Loch Garten for the real purpose of the weekend, the eagerly awaited run.

The hares, AIDS, The Body and Rock-It called On On and the pack were off, assisted by the full force of Megaphones horn and much to the bemusement of a couple of family groups. The trail led us down to the shoreline of Loch Garten, where we hit the first check. Understandably most checked either left or right, however Wild Local was seen peering out over the mirror-like surface of the water clearly disappointed not to see any flour, starving of him of the excuse required to prove a point. The trail headed off right into the woods with a very cunning false trail which fooled all - including one of the hares. After that, the excesses of the night before began to take their toll and I had to shut down No. 2 lung and throttle back on No 1, allowing the pack to surge ahead. Apart, that is, from Twice in one Night and Cosmic Willie, who clearly felt that the run would be too short and therefore exploited each false trail to the full? In general the trail had been laid sympathetically and took through some nice easy tracks on flat beautiful countryside through to a beer check bereft of softies. All assembled back at the Smithy for the usual. Megaphone very generously, and quite rightly awarded your scribe the first DD for the worst joke of the evening, which almost brought a tear to my eye. DDs too to the Hares, to Wild Local and yours truly (again) for the previous evenings fiercely fought spoon contest being declared a draw. DDs too for Batty who accepted the Fashion Dolly award, with a spectacular display of gear, and enough zips to make your average red-blooded male very nervous. Megaphone gracefully accepted a DD for services to humanity in clearing some second hand food, and hash-shit to Sergio for playing Bachmann Turner Overdrive at full volume declaring "You ain't seen nothing yet !!" (Sergio - Hint - Look what it did for Ronald Reagan !!)

The party retired back to the Heather Brae for Stovies, re-hydration and then on home after a great weekend.

Thanks to The Body for her organisational triumph!

and finally "Floor sprung duck technique" as they now say in Neathy Bridge

On On

2 Dogs Fucking

AH3 RUN 850

Scolty Hill Re-visited (well by some)

The Mad Hatter's run

Hare: DrillBit

It was a rainy and windy day in Aberdeen, BUT NOT IN BANCHORY! A small pack of 19 gathered to celebrate AH3 850" Run, all dressed up for the occasion.

I was not the first to arrive, our illustrious hare was emptying his bladder when I got to the carpark, looked like a party had taken place the night before?

Slowly the rest of the faithful gathered with a good selection of hats for the occasion, which I will attempt to describe as we go along. I struggled with my deformed Pixies hat, held up by a Sate stick with a little Santa on top. My girls had decorated this relic and written 'My Dad is Mad on the rim, as you do having been brought up on Alice in Wonderland.

Back to the run, pre-run down down to the Hare, our stand in RA, Multicoloured Swapshop Hat (Olymprick) obviously did not fancy this run, billed as the not short cuttable run (little did he know!) Suitable attire was worn by all, even Bungy Fingers got the Party Hat out!

Not the normal direction for this start location, we took the main road up to the hill, but not for long as the trail meandered into and out of the woods. By check 3 Snow Hat (Hippo) and I were at the front and I started the inevitable desire to try and circumvent the official trail. I was not the only one, Two Bunnies Fucking (Michelin Man ) was on the same mission. He did not sleep much the night before I gather, must stop these house warming parties.

So the both of us managed to get the better of two checks with a third being the Easter Egg stop. Now, the eggs were found quickly, eight steps to the left Joker Top hat( the hare) had said, under a spot of flower. Well, I did turn over the stone, but to no avail, the bag was slightly to the right, but who cares, first at the E-stop and left the bag on the check. The trail went up alongside the forest to a check inviting runners to go right, but not Mad Dad, he went left heading towards the Hill. A few checks later and the choice was do we go up or round, well it had to be up on such a nice day. Not that the trail went this way so I kept silence and was amazed at the amount of hashers following me. Snow Hat caught up with me at the top were we decided to go right.

A nice little valley took me down and in the distance a spot of flour was seen, On-On again and with the fit Snow Hat catching me up, only being slowed down by a bump on the knee, (Mind the wall Howard!), yours truly made it to the Beer stop first We were shortly joined by Mr Parrot (Sonic), Multicoloured, the Joker and all, next time we could do with a bottle opener or twist top bottles instead, we were you Megaphone when we really needed you !

From the Beer I followed my nose, not the right thing to do, back to the carpark were the following awards were presented:

Fashion awards:

Competitive running: Hare, Joker Top Hat:

Cathy Low for the Swans Hat Chaotic Bitch (Dog), for something equally exotic Snow Hat (Hippo) for a very good run, plenty beer and early Easter Eggs as a welcome nourishment stop before the climb! Overall score 9/10, well done No surprise there, Mad Dad Hat for leading the pack all the way whilst sporting a Red Xmas tree complete with Santa. (RA words!) Little Shit for staying up all night partying and still turning up. Two Bunnies fucking received the coveted milk chocolate eggs

Hashit Hat:

Partying award: Hat of the Day:

On-On Harley

Aberdeen Hash House Harriers

Run 847

Sunday 14th February 1999

On On - Abbotshall Place, Cults

On Inn - Kitchen at Abbotshall Place, Cults

Hares - Little Shit & Sergio

For reasons known only to my deep sub-conscious I found myself on Kirk Brae at approximately two minutes to eleven. Not having GPS on my dilapidated old car, I stopped to ask a stranger where I might find Abbotshall Place. Turning up his nose and then looking down at me, he just managed to force out between his teeth, "Oh that is on the other side of Cults", before pointing me in the right direction.

Having reached The Far Side a couple of minutes late I was the subject of the usual democratic election, despite the fact that Sonic was still struggling into his shoes ten yards behind me at the moment of my arrival.

I don't recall any pre-run Down Down, so apologies to anyone who got one. You're not as famous as you thought you were this time last week.

As you would expect from Little Shit, the run was particularly well set with plenty of pink flour to take account of the semi-white conditions and plenty of loops to take account of those of us who still think we are out there on some sort of athletic endeavour.

Unfortunately, I can only report on those parts of the trail which I personally ran and which for the first time in aeons did not include, for me, the beer check. As I recall, it went something like this:

Past some shoddy builder's vans and crumbling semis on that side of Cults; into Fox Lane (or something that at least looked like it to me) and up a short hill to a nicely set false trail ending in a lovely view of the south side of the City; into some woods, which if I could be bothered looking at a map I would identify; round past the top part of Bieldside, loping back onto Baillieswells Road; across said road and back towards something resembling a school, at which point I realised that we were so dangerously close to the real Cults that I abandoned all thoughts of following more trail, for fear of further conjure the hands of indignant locals. I was not alone, however, and after a near death experience for Bessie (the lead might have helped on that particular road) accompanied The Body and Thrush on a generally westward saunter, before picking up the outward trail which we ran in reverse back to the On Inn. Here, greeted by various Hashers who had apparently run the whole trail but also not found the beer.

There followed the usual milling around, complaints, compliments and observations about the run. Down Downs awarded to:

Cinders for her newly formed dimples .

Wimaway for indiscretions with a mirror - on the run!

Sonic, Hippo and Bog Bonker for their attempt at the production of pornographic literature at Hippo and Mrs T's recent cocktail party.

Crag Mouse for enjoying herself in more ways than one at another party

Flying Boats for being kind enough to visit

Three other visitors/new comers whose names escaped me

The Hares, including Sergio's plastic feet

On Inn for what had to be the best value £3 lunch in recent Hash history. Congratulations and thanks to Little Shit and Silly Cow for a tremendous effort, much appreciated by all. Hope the fund raising was a success.

On on One Liner

Aberdeen Hash House Harriers

Run 846

Sunday 7th February 1999

OnOn -- Stonehaven, Commodore Hotel

OnInn ~- Place up the hill!

Hares ~~ The Penguin and Two Dogs

Saturday night saw a mega snow outburst, dropping more crap in Aberdeenshire than in the French Alps!

Those with a bit of adventure dug their cars out of drifts and made it to the OnOn, risking life and limb down the road south.

Penguin was seen in the distance still trying to re-lay his trail in pink flour in an attempt to rescue his original trail laying activities.

Two Dogs advised us that if you bury the pink flour under 2 foot of snow it dyes the snow and is perfectly visible. What he neglected to tell us was that you also need to contact The Time Team, who could use the Geophysics bunch from the TV programme to do electromagnetic tracing of the area. This would also pick up anomalies below the snow, such as holes and rocks. Another method of finding the trail could have been to use an infra-red heat detector and we could have followed the hares. Another idea was not to ask these hares to lay trails again! I think this is totally unfair, they should be made to keep laying trails until they get it right.

Back to the disaster, the usual bunch of die hards turned up, Rockit, Struth, 2am, Aids, White Trash, Young Man, Harley, The Body, Swampy, Wild Local, Sergio, Drillbit, Willie and one or two other who I forget. Cinder's turned up, turned into a pumpkin and went home!

2am tried to do the pre-run DDs but Rockit pulled rank and gave 100 hundred run awards to 2am and Sergio. The awards were put next to the skin, not before snow balls had rained down on unprotected torsos! This appeared to make nipples stick out, but on the wrong gender.

Swampy informed us that she is off to Houston on an exchange deal, they get a dedicated hasher and we get a promise of return after 3 weeks!

OnOn.....6 blobs of four were counted on the whole run!!!!!!!!!!

Penguin left before the run for a prior dinner engagement, leaving Two Dogs to try and keep the pack together.

Despite the snow on the ground, and the raging blizzards, there were some nice spots. These escape me at the moment, but one was probably the beer check under the railway arch, the other was the baked potato in the pub. That said, I believe the trail generally went up the hill towards the golf club, hooked a right down along the sea font. Cut back into the town and then headed south through the woods to the old church and then back down the railway to the beer check. Back in the circle

DDs were given to Two Dogs for an excellent trail, too much flour and not enough snow.

Swampy for leaving and actually having the cheek to come back.

Young Man for something or other.

OnOn Little Shit

AH3 Run 844

Sun 24 Jan 1999

Cruden Bay

Hares: Small Triple2 AM

Well it was certainly sunny, but in no way was it warm, so a restless pack milled around the car park awaiting the start of this Burn's Run. Tartan, kilts and jimmy hats were worn with pride and the reciting of Burn's famous ode to a steaming "brown George the Third” went down a treat, as did the pre-run down-down to Struth, who was sporting an unseasonably short haircut!

With the formalities out of the way it was off into the back streets for a spiral start to the run, quickly remerging to cross the road and skirt the golf course and back again! At this point it could have been the shortest Hash in history, but the hares had laid more than a dozen spots and we were soon lead off into dark muddy happy places!

Strange thing though, lots of shiggy, but not a drop slung! Maybe Gunga Dick has reformed us all. I hope not!!

As ever there is always at least one case of “well the run SHOULD have gone this way". This week's advocate of that was Penguin, enjoying an early break away and a solo run down to Balmedie!!

Short cutters were also at work and despite the guidance from the hares that the castle wasn't home to the beer, some hashers - well Harley anyway - made a B-line for it. However, the Hares had outsmarted him this time, and only laid that bit at the last minute, so it was only on his second visit that he found anything. Sympathy? Not on your life.

The setting at Slains was glorious, with ample whisky-mac, shortbread and bag pipes to go around.

Back in the circle down-downs were dispensed with the speed and finesse that Burns would have admired:

The virgins: John, who did it topless; Alasdair, who did it with his trousers undone (but under Helen's medical supervision); and Gael “two dots” (they go above the "e") who was commended for his calling on the run - he could teach some of the others a thing or two!

Harley and Penguin received their rewards for not sticking to flour.

Swampy's fund raising has peaked at table dancing for £10 a go.

Tonguey sample the RA's new cocktail - puts hairs on your chest!

All Because picked up some consolation for two twisted ankles - probably consulting his GPS again!

Crag Mouse and Lum were recognised for their failure to pull on Saturday night – why only them?

Rockit suffered a momentary lapse of concentration and forgot the softies and his poetry for the beer stop.

Fifi’s humanity was called into question after saying to a Big Issue seller that he could now go home!

Little Shit for a delayed scribe - hence why I'm getting this in early!!!

On, On!!! Hubcap

Run No 843

Sunday 17th January 1999

Buckie Farm

Hare: Harley

A bright morning saw a bedraggled bunch get itself together outside the £5.50 carvery lunch, except on Mother’s day when its £11.50 Buckie Farm.

The carpark, was built for cars but not for hashers! The wind cut across the Don valley, circled round Tesco's, spread out at the playing fields and shot like an arrow through what should have been warm clothing. It was fucking cold!

As the weather went from cold to even more cold, those poor souls who decided to get out of bed started to complain at the lack of urgency in getting the run started. At this point the GM, who shall remain nameless woke up and called order. “Mine's a pint, what's yours”.

The pre run DD went off without mishap, but it always does, 2am doing a good stand-in job. Give him another couple of weeks and he'll start drying up.

They started without delay and off we ran alongside the playing field, if we had been sailing dinghies we would have been tacking!

So far so good, flour and a trail, but not for too long! At the end of a playing field we hit the first check.

Penguin - checked up towards the main road.

Michelin Man - checked where the run should have gone, that was the last of John.

Rock-it - flexed his vocal cords are wanted to know where it went.

Ball Tweeker never stopped talking to the new runner (Helen from some foreign part, I think she has very nice foreign parts) and just blindly followed the pack.

The trail didn't go down to the river, did it John! It went in a wide loop round to the back of Whitestripes. This confused the majority of the pack, especially when we got to a wee stream crossing. Do I get wet feet or not! This is a thought that goes through the mind of most nancy hashers at least once during every run. This type of hasher will scale trees, climb though barb wire, crawl over broken glass, but put three inches of running water in front of them.......bolloxed! It may be something to do with superstition, witches are renowned for their fear of running water, and vampires are kept at bay by it. I believe it is all a conspiracy, put about by government activists have infiltrated the hash at all levels............

When the beer check was finally engaged, "lock and Load”, usually said in most crap American B movies, the usual list of miscreants had made it. The Body, Michelin Man doing the run on "No No”, Penguin, Ulrick, FiFi, JC, Olymprick and one or two more. The on in was bloody miles, burping and faring with the fizzy beer.

On Down

Helen the new runner.

Megaphone produced some sperm in a bottle, he'd ask me to donate some during my last 25 (only about 11 to go), so it must be still furtile. The next batch should be free of the little taddies, so it shouldn't feel like swallowing oysters (cheaper though). Even this delicacy was chucked away, and not even on the head. Useless, Harriets are only fit for shagging (quote from Scumbag)! When is this stag hash starting? The rest must have been really boring, because I'd forgotten it by the time I'd left the pub. OnOn Little Shit

Run No. 842

Sunday 10th January 1999

Hazlehead Park

Hares: Cinders & Aids

It was a lovely sunny Sunday or it was fucking cold - depends who you talked to - as the hashers gathered on an ice rink for the start of the 842nd run. Despite arriving early, I was touched, literally, on the shoulder by the GM and appointed your scirbe- must come late in future.

The pre-run On Down went to Rock It for his completion of 150 runs. He also got a snazzy sweatshirt, which he immediately took off. Probably keeping it for best!

'Long Run' said the hares waving arms in the general direction of Aberdeen and off the pack went. First check was a 10 foot fence. This slowed up the front runners til a gate was found.

On on went the cry until we came across a series of checks upon checks. No wonder Aids is in great demand for pantomimes. 'Oh no, he isn't!' 'Oh yes he is! Behind you! Anyway, this devious way of setting checks was eventually sorted out and after a long muddy frozen run, most of us arrived at the beer check.

The beer check was at the crematorium. A gypsy warning to all the hash boozers!

A long run back to the skating rink - made slightly longer by me following Harley. When I remarked that we weren't on flour, his comment was 'All roads lead to Rome. No wonder he always gets lost.

Once the circle was formed, the Down Downs were awarded.

Two Dogs F&cking looking every inch a hashman in is designer jacket and gore-tex boots got a down down as it was his birthday.

Young Man covered in blood and mud got a down down for destroying council property. One might say a bridge too far.

The Penguin gave himself an on down by claiming 1500 runs. He did however forget to mention 'completed’. He then got a down down for claiming he wasn't going to eat at the Yangtze dinner only to scoff most of the food.

Shagnasty was awarded an On down for trying to imitate his favourite TV character Arthur Daley. I have a feeling he bought the car from Arthur Daley in the first place!

A farewell On down went to Little Swampy who will be missing for the next two months. She will miss her weekly mud bath and beer shampoo.

The hares Aids and Cinders got an On Down for a good well set run and finally,

The Hash Shit went to a bright young but balding hasher Terry Tubby who had the intelligence to quickly remove his car from the hands of the Michelin Man before the appearance of the calculator

On On - Scribe - White Trash