Scribes 2011

Aberdeen Hash House Harriers

Run 1536 : Cults

Hares:  More Butt & Hillary

25th Dec 2011 ‘Christmas Day’

Scribe: Drillbit

Approaching More Butts’ abode via the railway line I was a little concerned Father Christmas had cancelled the run or changed the venue.  However as soon as I saw Santas’ little helpers suitably dressed in the back garden I knew Mrs.  Claus AKA More Butt had had her way and we had a run.

The GM Twizzle spared us a history lesson as we all knew what had happened on this very day a couple of thousand years ago.  I fell for Hash Scribe and little did I know it was going to be ‘pick on Drillbit day’

Our numbers were made up by various Numbskull and Skinny Witch family members being dragged along to work up an appetite.  

The run set off down the railway line with Olymprick on his shortest shortcut ever, looping back to his car after 30 metres, he had plans elsewhere.  The pack slowly looped up hill to the back of the Waldorf School. Xmas had caught up already with most folk due to too over indulgence and several colds and I was able to keep up. Trouser Shredder was unable to lead the pack as usual and still suffering with a humdinger of a cold took photos instead, see URL.  Thanks Trouser Shredder

On On through Bieldside Woods and down to Glasgow and Hillarys’ patio for Bucks Fizz and Gingerbread.  After a very pleasant beer stop it was an amiable amble (I wasn’t driving today) back to our ON INN at More Butts’.  Nobody ran!

Hot mince pies and excellent mulled wine followed by a fine choice of real ale.  Hash beer take note of Little Shits’ choice of beer.  Lager does not do it for me.

Down Downs

Obviously the Hares More Butt & Hillary + Glasgow.  Thank you for the time and effort on Christmas day.  Good run, grog and mince pies

• Drillbit:  For leaving his boots in Oban

• Numbskull and Skinny Witch family members

• Drillbit:  For one too many mince pies

• Cannae Be Arsed

• Skinny Witch

• Drillbit:  Mince pie eating race

Plus others I can’t remember

On On Drillbit

Twas the run before Christmas; twas snow underfoot; bother, bother, bother:  no! worse: SHIT!!!!!!

Will those daft virgin snow hares remember NOT to use flour when it snows!!!!? Will all be lost!? Twas only way to find out . . . turn up on plenty time AND at least that way there is NO chance I’d have to scribe. . . being one of my last runs ‘n all!!!

Good news:  the hares had spotted the white stuff and re- set the run with. . . . LENTILS??? Oh well. .

Bugger; oh bugger:  oh bugger . . . eye contact with Aids, King of all the Elves. . . . and more bugger bugger bugger. . . . I’m scribe . . . how did that happen??? I know! I’ll use my charms on one of those most bemoaning beautiful, lumpy lovely, bedraggled bedazzling, Aberdeen Harriett’s and maybe persuade her to do the write-up as I’m too busy moving house to scribe and all will be well.  

 But also need to remember the pre run down down went to Harley for wearing a Santa hat. . . in blue instead of prescribed red and green:  Note to self; major bonus; no G. M so no useless crap to remember about Henry the Eighth!

So off we went . . . . there was much red and green; but mainly red in the form of Santas and a few elves. . . mainly in the form of the King of all Elves, Aids and Miss, soon to be named, Tinkle toes, in the form of Skinny Witch; Went up Deemount through Ferryhill, along Bank Street and onto the old footbridge where civilians were targeted by JC for snowball practise; headed along Riverside Drive and up through Duthie Park where we met Careless who was covering all bases with a black ‘humbug’ T-SHIRT which lit up with pretty fairy lights; (didn’t spot him to propose a pre run down down for girlieness. . . ah that’s because he wasn’t there in the circle!) Headed to Asda and then towards the Cemetery where dog walking/child entertaining and unsuspecting jogging civilians were in abundance all easily recognisable by the look of disbelief as they observed the straggling and puffing pack that was the hash; the FRB’s were circling and circling and circling. . . . And circling . . . ! A ‘B’ had been found, but there was no beer! Much a pacing . . . and then the miracle that is Christmas sent a Freelander:  not just a beer mobile, but a mince pie dispenser! The discontent that was a brewing, dispersed like the ghost of Christmas past; and pies on earth was upon us.

Back to the circle and I’m now on a mission, to ease my weary burden; group photo underway and spirits are rising as the gluwein weaves its happy path through circling hashers. . . and we’re off; the down downs are imminent and I’m still lumbered, but I have a plan B; Just re- hash(‘scuse the pun) an old scribe and change a few bits. . . after all no one reads them. . . bugger have just said that out loud instead of in my head. . . . But plan A might still be on the cards, as this Harriette looks both appalled and gullible at the same time . . . can’t believe it . . . she’s said she will do it for me. . . . must be the ghost of Christmas present or future looming because I can’t actually remember what I’ve said but it is happening; she does have a pen in her hand which she has found on the snow and somebody, which I think is me has just handed her a bit of paper and she’s scribbling notes down; it actually looks like its working! She’s hanging on my every word . . . asking me hasher’s names and saying she’ll email me with draft for approval! RESULT!

 So my duty is so nearly fulfilled

Or would be if I could remember the name of the first hasher (sorry) who was down downed; anyway it was well deserved; for turning up for the 2nd week without funds to pay, this hasher was shamed into going home pre run to get funds and when he returned late the pack had already gone:  next time he will remember to wear the right trousers . . . the ones with funds!!!

•  To Stainless for her Pitfodel run, which apparently was the reason why the beer /mince pie stop was so confusing; still confused why this should be so but this is a scribe so it doesn’t need to actually make sense.

• To Skinny Witch for failing to lose Santa or his helpers in the vicinity of the Cemetery and being spotted tinkling (In my opinion, a most unfair and undeserved charge to such a wonderful person – Editor)

• To JC for his attempt to start a snowball fight in a civilian infested environment . . . shame on you JC

• To Bog Brush for failing to acknowledge that in the big brave world of property ownership, he DOES actually know where his own teeth are when brushing . . . . . even without a mirror

• To Sharnie for taking snow clearing to unknown levels in these parts . . . poor council employee will be out of a job. . . shame on you

• The Hares, Sweetness, Muff Diver and Enron for the disaster that was the beer stop (but they pulled it back with the warm mince pies?) and finally down downs for the Returners, Shaky, Val and son

And the ON INN was courtesy of Sweetness and Enron, so thanks to them. 

Phew can’t believe I’ve pulled this off, but I have . . . my last scribe

ON ON

SW pp F

Run 1533

Made classic mistake of making eye contact with G. M.  in the circle and was punished accordingly with orange vest (but secretly have had my eye on that horn thing for a while so all was good. . .  and having been scuffing around the circle for a few years and never been picked on. . . .  I mean chosen, I had prepared myself mentally for the event, a few times, in anticipation )What I hadn’t prepared myself for was the sight of my other half humping the G. M. ! Can you believe his excuse to me was that as hash lawyer he needed to make sure that everyone in the circle understood the Buggery Act, as no one seemed to be listening to the G. M.’s ruminations; can’t imagine why!

Immediately all sorts of advice was given by hashers and Harriette’s as to what I should include in the scribe, so the G.M. doesn’t need to fret over the lack of scribes anymore . . . everyone is more than able, apparently.

The main advice I was given was not to bother with the run details at all; not something that will trouble my conscience given that I generally spend most of my time looking at my feet and generally have no idea where I am anyway, but also as so many hashers seemed to carve their own path on this run. . . . Something about lack of flour (not conceded by the hares in any way. . .) I thought I would tell you about the one you didn’t do courtesy of One Liner, Hippo, Barbarella and Privet; who are indignant of course that they were on trail and the pack were not; as if!!!!

I’m told it was gentle woodland, following a path, crossing a dual carriageway, passing through an industrial unit and then over some sand to the junction where the path met up with the reverse of the mid-section of Twizzle’s Monster Run past the burnt out car (Leeky Willie, Barbarella, One Liner wants your expert advices . . . was it a Rover 200 per chance . . . . ?)Remarkably that felt/ looked/ seemed to be the run I remember too; but they went back to the beginning to make sure that they were on, completing a large loop somewhere not on trail, that the pack concluded was not on; and that in a nutshell was how it all went on a fabulously sunny but windy and bollock freezing Sunday;

Despite having to add 2 fleeces and a ski jacket before I could claim my gluwein, the circle was in good form and down downs were a plenty from Aids, and Norman Hunter (sorry he’ll always be Norman in my eyes/scribe) and a charge from Leeky Willie.  

• 1. Bog Brush and Leeky Willie for their failure to scribe . . . my warning duly noted

• 2. Trouser Shredder, Twizzle and Harley for being crap hashers

• 3. Twizzle for being unable to expertly fold a t-shirt, despite specialised tuition from Norman

• 4. The hares, Privet and Cinders for poor excuses about trail deficiencies

• 5. Privet for losing her focus and stressing about cutlery

• 6. One Liner, Tiger Feet as a stand in for Hippo and Barbarella for losing Hippo

• 7. Skinny Witch for eyeing up the G. M.’s ear muff/headband as a possible boob tube

• 8.  Fireflaps for planning in advance a 30 minute period of elegant sophistication at the coming Oscar party event to be followed by inevitable inebriation . . . sounds like a plan to me!

•  9. Hillary for drawing attention to his unusual lack of enthusiasm for the antics by repeatedly yawning

And here endeth my First Scribe

On On

 Skinny Witch

The tale of Run 1531 Narrated by Twizzle

Well morning started like most these days at 5. 00 am waken not by gentle chirping of birds but wailing of infant in distress.  Next hour spent lying next to infant who is determined to reach every inch of bed and no longer wishes to sleep unlike the adults.  Eventually, called quits at 6. 00 to commence the morning ritual of childcare except this time with a pounding head from last night’s sniffing bottle tops.  Yes it’s defiantly a Sunday that means a hash run if I get my jobs done, not for a few hours yet and plenty of jobs to do.  Completed kitchen clean-up work program then moved to prepare for GM duty of providing useless crap concerning the run, for those that really get off on this the try this link: 

So after ignoring all the Henry the VIII history that has bored the pants of most the pack recently and duly selecting the bits of boiling alive and beheading bits I commenced with garage duties.  Ist duty to clean and record all damage to Blackbird following the last run, followed by checking tire pressures oil and fluid levels and the last loving clean before its starts its journey to the repairers who no doubt will find all manner of maintenance oversights that contributed to a technical equipment malfunction.

Time drifted on motor cycle pushed to dark end of garage to start on car.  Alas front flat.  Yes good old nail in tire.  Changed wheel and nearly ready, but alas the inside of the car is minging.  Child seat needs to be cleaned after yesterday family outing.  Speedy disassembly, biological decontamination, followed by reassembly no we have a bit missing? Domestic blame storm followed by realization that it’s my fault and humble pie with further disassembly and reassembly again car no prepared but due to delay car now required for worship followed by lunch with pals.  Attention quickly focuses on mountain bike but another flat.  Quick work with pump restores rear tire and still 20 minutes to circle.  Whirlwind change and I am off 15 minutes remaining to circle.  No wimping into top gear and steaming along like Lance Armstrong via railway line avoided numerous dogs, infants and Sunday cyclists did a PB to get to Duffy park still time, clanged through the cycle traps at top of suspension and crossed over the Dee to reach the start with 3 minutes to go.  Trying hard to look cool while hyper-ventilating, made my entrance into the milling throng to find a confused pack no RA and no Hares.  Managed to get heart rate below 200 and called the circle to order.  Mentioned the boiling and beheading, spared the pack the tales of good old Henry.  Alas up pipes Deadman with the complete date he must have googled it on his phone, sad man! So then got the new runner in the circle Jonathon something, and a returner.  Then mixed up the scribe (Bog Brush No scribe yet watch out your on my list) for last week’s hares, what am I on? So in my befuddled state, awarded myself the pre-run down followed by a dose of the scribe duty so I better send this in then.  

 Looking around for an RA as Aids was AOL and stand-ins flying Scotsman, Scab-e-arse also missing, then spotted Little shit was signalling, thought Oh this will be easy, wrong called to account for throwing my bike up the road after the 1529 circle, particularly fitting as tempted providence by stating ‘I never fall off’.  After confusion from Olymprick, Struth pointed out the general direction and the pack sent off at a walk rather than any pretence of a run

After to 2 downs I set off, yes it followed the flour across to the river bank to find the hare coming back the other way.  The trail followed the route set 3 weeks ago down to the river under railway bridge, but luckily not up the bank instead a slither across the slimy river stones, luckily 1 liner and I was well placed behind Fireflaps and Roger me More unfortunately neither needed a helping hand and we stumbled out along the river bank to the bridge.  Crossed over and into Duffy park a swift loop around and up Polmire Rd, past One Liner’s speed bump and across Deeside Garden’s.  To the first check! An easy left it seemed to good not to be a false then up to Justice Mill, around Holborn Junction on to the top of Union Street then much to the bemusement of Christmas Shopper we stumbled onwards surely not all the way down without another check to stop for a breath, fortunately a strategically placed arrow past.  St Christopher was placed on guard duty to divert the pack in for a well-earned half.  

Olymprick ordered the refreshment while we awaited the hare, who advised us there was at least another drink stop.  Well, all the more reason to move on the pack drifted out and continued down Union Street, heading to the beach.  A second check just before Pittrodry this time straight ahead then down for a climb over the mound and on the beach.  Started to catch up with Ballerina and ‘Jonathan’ then over the wall into Foot Dee met up again with little shit goat wrestler, and intensive Claire as we threaded through the docks the next stop being at the RNLI boat house Struth served Rum and Crabbies very nautical.  Leeky Willie then required numerous pictures of the pack with the lifeboat men new toys of course we obliged while the pilot’s joined in the fun with over a bit of ribbing over the PA.  Once again we set off with a bit more flour marking the way, caught up with T Rex moaned about the check not being marked, I wondered which of the three checks he referred to.  Interestingly Trail led through the railway station, and multi-story, before diving under bridge in College Street to join the south Esplanade a quick last river crossing to join the assembled circle back at the boat club.  Surely most of the pack had short cut as the Rum supply did not look particularly hammered so guess not all the pack made it to that stop then?

Good job Aids was not with us today, he certainly would have plenty to say about the length and time we finished.  I just thought of it as putting clocks back a further hour before the circle.  Certainly the run was a candidate for some award at the AGM.  

After a brief attempt to get a beer and crisps, awaited for the what thought the last stragglers and called circle to order as no RA present and being a bit short of Info it called initially for some inspiration this was easy as Leeky Willie seemed an ideal victim, new runner ‘Jono’ was given a presented to the circle only for myself to get a down down for not showing him the way.  Red Stripe and Gay Gordon for abandoning dirty washing at Oban.  Leeky Willie again cannot recall why.  Then memory kicked in to recall that vain One Liner reaching 50 and keeping it quite actually on 23rd.  But what a surprise it’s also Leeky Willies 51 and Careless just when we ready Wotzoff also joined in with a birthday as well.  Maybe there will be a mid-week wet going on somewhere? Then a fab four down down but then Struth joins in with the 23rd being a tryst date between old & new lovers, great improvisation.  In the midst of this Horny Blower trots in to a loud cheer from the whole pack no down down but great effort.  At last the Hares were traditionally rewarded and we staggered round to the boat club for the ON INN.

Don’t know if it was the location, company, time of day, or just plain old hunger, who knows but at least half the pack consumed the excellent soup and sandwiches laid on for a contribution to the RNLI.  It was great to chat with so many at the ON INN.  More drinks flowed before it was time to retrieve the cycle alas only peddles left to get home.  Leaving the usual suspects to Hoover up the remaining beer and grub Initially I was so glad I did not have a car so wobbled off home in a very happy state, of course the railway line was now full of obstacles to progress made it without a road traffic collisions (RTC) this week anyway looking forward to Balmedie next week see you there.

The first ten million years were the worst, and the second ten million years, they were the worst too.  The third ten million I didn't enjoy at all.  After that I went into a bit of a decline. Marvin the Paranoid Android, Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

Run No.  1529 Tyrebagger.  

Hares - Barbarella and Mad Cyclist

The First Hour!

Arriving exactly on time (!) we were surprised to see Twizzle reading at length from a prepared script some fascinating facts about the year 1529.  Many of the surrounding circle had drifted off into a deep sleep whilst still standing.  A few others were standing there open mouthed, pretending to be enthralled by these highbrow utterances but were actually practicing ancient Zen Meditation techniques, whilst at least two others had sneaked off to their vehicles looking for sharp implements in order to lacerate their wrists and bring the whole ordeal to a rapid - if somewhat self-destructive - end.

He eventually ran out of inspiration and threw a horn wrapped in an orange waistcoat randomly towards the gathered horde.  Being one of the few still compos mentis I used my obvious athletic prowess to pluck it out of the air before it hit the muddy car park floor.  Expecting applause and admiring comments I was disappointed to see the circle snap into life as smirks spread across their newly enlivened visages.  Apparently this act of selfless sacrifice meant I was now the Scribe!

Aids, the RA took over.  He summoned a variety of giggling Hashers forward and gave them new clothing to wear, most of it labelled ‘50 Runs’.  The demure Harriett’s ignored the boorish chants from the assembled throng of, ‘Skin, Skin’ and merely covered over their existing clothes with the aforesaid yellow vestments.  However, a bearded male recipient seemed incredibly keen to disrobe in front of the throng.  Fortunately he was prevented from so doing by a couple of more burly Hashers nearby who managed to wrestle him to the ground and secure him until the mood to expose himself in front of the public passed.

 Ms Thruppence was then summoned and asked why she had been seen in some despicable residence in the city wearing only a piece of string (and not of the G variety, apparently).  The explanation involved her gyrating in a most unpleasantly provocative manner on the floor of the car park whilst Tonto made Svengali like motions above her with both his hands.  It turned out they were simulating a Yoyo.  What that had to do with minty chocolate biscuits from the 1970’s I’ll never know.

The run started amidst the usual confusion between Hares as to whether 3 or 4 blobs of flour indicated an ‘On On’.  Since there were to be only about 14 blobs of flour over the WHOLE trail it turned out to be a bit of an academic discussion.  The FRB’s took their usual collective decisive actions and started circling and calling like demented sheep at the bottom of a green, greasy glen.  When one of them fortuitously found the trail, up a steep, slippy bank of overhanging vegetation, they rushed gleefully at it reminiscent of the charge of the Light Brigade.  The rest of the Pack walked 20m to the right and followed the obvious path.

 More impersonation of Headless Chickens by the FRB’s meant the wastage of huge numbers of Calories until the scribe took pity on them and broke the check.  This was much to Tonto’s admiration who appeared from the Westhill direction unlike most of the others who were still in the Tyrebagger region.  The pack were unfortunately caught by Barbarella who insisted they walked around a wooden structure not dissimilar to the old Parisian ‘Pissoirs’.  It turned out to be a ‘sculpture’.  I don’t know much about Art……. .  Etc.

The Second Hour

By this time the FRB’s had long gone.  The Hares were of the opinion that if the trail were on a path there was no need to put flour down at all.  They obviously do not understand that to the finely honed athletes who make up AH3’s elite trailbusters flour is like a security blanket.  They need to see it regularly otherwise panic attacks can be induced.  Indeed.  I was half expecting to come round a bend in the trail to find half the pack sucking their thumbs and rocking rythmically whislt the other half were curled into foetal positions on the ground sobbing noiselessly.

 The FRB’s went for a long jog towards Craibstone Golf Club and home.  Eventually one of the brighter ones amongst them (can someone provide a name, please?) realised they had not seen flour for a very long time and so, possibly, the trail went through SAC.

 We entered the grounds of the SAC.  Bloody Students, never had it so good! Not only was there not a sign of an upright body to be seen anywhere but the croquet lawn, tennis courts and student car park (student bloody car park) were similarly deserted.  Only my strict Methodist upbringing prevented me from letting off a few loud parps from the ceremonial horn that Sunday!

 We crossed under the notoriously busy and dangerous A93 via an underpass.  At last, I thought, caring Hares taking sensible precautions to maintain AH3’s membership.  We then came upon a bag of sweeties that some Paedophile had probably thrown out of his car window whilst on his way to Dyce Airport to escape the clutches of the Grampian Polis

[On the subject of Dyce Airport might I direct you to: ] Aberdeen Couple, eh?

The trail then led to one of the busiest stretches of the Aberdeen to Inverness Superhighway where we were invited to try and outsprint racing juggernauts and assorted 4 wheel drives.  I suppose it is Darwinianism in action.  We re-entered SAC, still not a sign of a bloody student anywhere.

Third Hour

We went up to Craibstone golf club where the memory of yesterday’s (Saturday’s) one under par round was still fresh in my memory.  Running alongside the 9th and 10th fairways reminded me of my successive birdies and even enlightened my nine on the par three 12th.  (For those unfamiliar with golfing terminology, ‘nine’ comes between 8 and 10.  Hope that’s clear. )

 The flour was no longer an issue.  There wasn’t any, full stop.  Fortunately my companions claimed to know the way back.  We wound up at 8 upright poles stuck on the top of Elrick Hill.  Was this another sculpture or a place on which to stick the heads of inadequate AH3 Hares? Probably would need more than that.

 We wandered through someone’s backyard and found a path that eventually led to the carpark.  The RA immediately called the circle to prevent further outbreaks of hyperthermia amongst the pack.  Aids was his usual witty, brilliant, inventive self.  Sorry but I can’t remember a word he said.  Everyone was so cold that he let us off early and some went on to Bucksburn Manor and the rest went home

After that I went into a bit of a decline.

Sweetness

Hash Number- 1527

Location- Hazelhead Park

Hare - Goat Wrestler

Well I was nearly late for the hash today.  Why you might ask? Well I was watching star trek on DVD - the original series.  It was the episode where Kirk and the klingons are trapped in combat by an evil alien entity.  Oh wait! You don’t care do you!

Leaving my guilty pleasures safely in my flat I headed up to the hash.  

Our new GM Twizzle called the circle.  Apparently in 1527 there was some ransacking of the Vatican and some treaties signed and other random nonsense best consigned to history.  And then in looking for some mug he picked me to scribe.  Lucky me.

Over to the hare.  Poor hare had to re-lay the run at some god awful time this morning due to a heavy downpour overnight.  After the usual nonsense three spots and you’re on if you bother doing checks.  I just leave that rubbish to the fit bastards and footer around at the back) we were started.

But were we? After a few false starts we headed down the main road.  I ask Red Stripe to give my horn a toot.  She obliges! Dirty cow! Anyway we cross over into Woodend Hospital territory and go under a bridge.  Well myself, Stainless and Bruce Almighty head down later and don’t bother with steep banks.  Running along I catch the whiff of Roger me More.  She smelt delightful.  Turns out she was wearing Coco Chanel.  For the blokes out there that’s the advert with Keira Knightly in a sexy cat suit on a motor bike.  Visions of Roger wearing a cat suit on a motorbike entertained me far more then is decent.  Then she ruined it all by more pattering about her adorable nephew.  Yes for all those who read my last scribe she is still being emotionally blackmailed by the cute little bugger.  

Passing Whinger trying to drown Little Shit in a burn we head up to the Laing Stracht.  Little Christopher (Hillarys son) hears some of the local teenagers going about their daily routine of drinking and smoking and looks interested.  Probably doesn’t want to be caught by some thugs out Hashing with daddy.

We head up to unknown territory.  I believe at this stage several of the older Hashers who have Hashed at Hazelhead oh about 9 million times are caught out by the hare.  We pass several mean looking dogs.  Eventually we head back through Dobbies Garden centre I want to stop and buy some cake but no one let me.

At the road Hillary had lost his son and was looking for him.  Apparently Hillary had short cut the run without telling Christopher and the poor wee soul had gone back to look for father.  Imagine trying to explain that one to Glasgow (Mrs Hillary).  

We cross the road again and eventually come to well stocked and welcome beer check.  I believe that the beer check was approached from several different angles by the Hashers who thought they knew where the run was going and shortcut.  On a short walk back to the cars we meet Leeky Willie who had gone to watch the rugby cup final.  Apparently New Zealand won.  I don’t really care as I just use rugby as a chance to perve over fit stocky men in shorts.  

Now onto the down downs awarded in no particular order.  

• - Leeky Willie and an Australian in celebration of the world cup

• - Desperately Seeking Dick (he he! I love Canadian Hash names) for taking a lift with Leeky Willie and not realising she would be quicker walking

• -2am, Cinders, Numbskull and someone else who I forgot for trying to outwit the hare and shortcutting

• - Little Christopher for going back to look for dad

• -Ballerina for naming his son after Barnsley football top scorer. Well at least he wasn’t named after where he was conceived!

• -At this point Scabby Arse ambles in from god knows where.  He gets a down down.  

• -Muff Diver gets a down down and a T-shirt for Hashing or not in dangerous areas.  

• -Pink Panther got a bag for her 600 run.  Congratulations to Pink Panther.  Interesting story about that bag.  Pink Panther doesn’t Hash often so I in my capacity as Haberdasher got that bag several months ago.  My cats desperately tried to make that bag their new cat bed! Don’t worry Pink Panther I kept them off it.  

• -More Butt for only Hashing when the weather suits her

• -Sweetness then led us all in the song Music Man.  Several verses later we all look like complete twats to any passer-by.

Finally the hare gets two down downs - one for a well set trail and one for having a very fit daughter

•  Kopje Bell who was perved over by several hashers at the 1500th

Well done and apologies if I missed anything.  

Intensive Clare

Run no. 1524

 Arrived at hash site at the Back o’ Bennachie and was looking forward to enjoying not having the responsibility of doing anything except turn up now that Numbskull had taken over hash beer duties.  Unfortunately Twizzle had been playing detective and had discovered that I had managed to dodge the scribe role so far! Even my plea that I was a walkie-talkie, and would therefore miss the run didn’t sway his decision.  Dammit!

Pre run down downs were awarded to

• Careless for 100 runs,

• Goat Wrestler for 250 and

• Drillbit for 555 runs a rather fetching pair of shorts.

The pack headed off over a ditch and habitually we followed only to spot the walkers disappearing in the opposite direction…with a map! We made the wise move to follow them instead.  We kept pace with Killer until she got a bit freaked when I tried to look in the pocket of her jacket and went running back to her Mum.  What does a dachshund keep in her jacket pockets?

Our wee group of 3 headed round the trail and arrived at the beer stop long before everyone else so, just to keep the unenthusiastic teenager awake decided to head up the hill a bit.  Up beyond the tree line we were engulfed in a cloud where it was eerily quiet but in the distance, coming through the mist the faint cries of ‘on on’ could be heard.  On hearing this and noticing that Tara had given up the will to live on a nearby rock, we descended back to the beer check.

Slowly the walkers and runners started to emerge from all directions to have their fill of the mud encrusted beer cans.  A short walk downhill from there led us back to the car park, just in time for the next shower of rain.

Thirsts were quenched and the circle was called to order! Leeky Willie and Sweetness instructed us to down brollies before leading us into a rendition of Singing in the Rain - with additional ‘rain’ supplied by Drillbit!

Down downs awarded to:

• Numskull - for shooting Scabby Arse with lemon juice at the curling the previous night, and took his down down while on the phone!!!

•  Its All Because - for bestiality with Killer at the beer check (apparently there were tongues involved!)

• Tonto & Sergio - for being early risers!!!

• Ee Ecky Thump, Cinders and Watsoff - in appreciation (?) of their defeated rugby team

• Leeky Willie - for hitching a lift to the beer stop

• Aids & Thrupenny Bits - for inability to tie their own shoelaces and enlisting help for said task

• Leeky Willie (again) - stoned in circle for missing his scribe and down down for picking on current one (me!)

• Little Shit & Sharnie - for stashing sweets and beer for each other

• Sweetness - for thinking he was attending a running club and not a mountaineering club (obviously wrong on both counts)

• Newcomer (here to doggy-sit Killer) and 2 visitors (Squatting Squaw and ??)

• Hippo and Mrs T - for setting the run

• Drillbit announced that the Hash raffle would be restarted so bring along your trash and treasure and hand it to him to pass on to the lucky (?) winners.

• After having his brain cells fuelled by beer, tomato soup and hot dogs, Tonto came up with the following limerick:

• Hippo laid the hash trail with his daughter

Who said it ought to be shorter

The hill is too steep

The hot dogs too cheap

And the hashers are lambs to the slaughter

On On

Red Stripe

Run 1518, Monday 22nd August 2011

Hare: Whinger

Scribe: Goat Wrestler

 We were running late, Koje Belle driving and your scribe fretting at being late.  Don’t worry, she told me, if we’re really, really late then we don’t get to be scribe and might even get away with missing out paying the sub as well.  Perish the thought Koje! Thruppeny Bits doesn’t let anyone off that easily.

Anyway we arrived about 1 minute past seven and, knowing that parking would be tight, I suggested that she park on the grass verge just behind a car already parked.  Got onto the verge alright then about 15 feet from the car ahead, fell into a cunningly camouflaged hole and ended up with the car nose down and arse up, with one of the back wheels a couple of feet off the ground.  Worse still, in full view of the assembled band of hashers.

It had its lighter moment.  Olymprick was so excited that he put his beer down on the road in order to encourage everyone to take the piss (no encouragement needed!) and the said beer was promptly run over by a passing truck.  The stranded car was soon out of the hole with the assistance of some hash muscle, and that was just the harriettes!

At the pre-run circle, with the usual lack of enthusiasm for scribing, it went to a vote with Olymprick being the easy winner.  However the cunning little bas---rd had disappeared so yours truly, as the second choice, was duly nominated.

One returner, Haggissimo, owned up and there was a new runner (walker), Luciana from Switzerland.

 The pre-run beer went to me for being Koje Belle’s navigator.  Turning out to be not my night at all.

 Whinger the hare said that a farmer was licking up all the marks (Farmer Giles looked the picture of innocence) and also to be careful as we would be passing some cattle but he had cunningly laid the trail just outside the fences.  Hmmm…. then why could we almost shake hands (hoofs) with the cattle as the flour took us through the field.

 The trail itself was classic hash country with enough woods, shiggy, barbed wire (loads) and checks to keep the pack reasonably close and occasionally lost.  A bit of an obstacle course in fact.  There was a wooden bridge going from nowhere to nowhere which Twizzle managed to fall through.  At one stage looking for flour, T-Rex Cock insisted he could see some ahead.  Nice mushrooms were they T-Rex Cock?

 There was a fine beer stop near the end but some hashers never saw it.  Eventually we all got back to the On On where we had to wait some time for the stragglers (including believe it or not Farmer) to turn up before the circle started.

 Beers were awarded to the following:  

• Canna Be Arsed for his 400th run.  He also got a hash fleece to accompany the beer.  

• Olymprick for missing his pre-run down-down.

• Flying Scotsman for I can’t remember what.  My notes seem to say (and it was getting dark and I didn’t have my specs) ‘hash illogical twat’

• Numbskull (1) for being himself

• Numbskull (2) for some query about how not everyone seemed get covered in shaggy.

• Barbarella for a barbed wire crossing which, according to a nearby harriette, left him with less than his complete manhood.  The said harriette even demonstrated how she found out.  Brought tears to my eyes, it did.

• Koje Bell got the inevitable beer for her novel parking style at the start.

• Luciana our new runner/walker from Switzerland got a beer for some story about buying M&S underwear and phoning Mum to confirm the UK sizes.  Wrong!

•  And of course Whinger for setting an excellent trail.

 At the end of the circle a biker turned up asking for assistance.  He had run out of petrol and pushed his bike for a couple of miles or something and came across what appeared to be a witch’s coven in the gathering darkness.  He was looking for a lift to the nearest filling station but, logically, Flying Scotsman had a 5 litre can of petrol in the boot and kindly offered it to the biker.

 The On Inn was at Whingers place with food from the nearby Ashvale chippy.  Unfortunately the chippy could only serve about half a dozen portions at that time of night which just about matched the number going back.

On On

 Goat Wrestler

Monday 15th August 2011

Run No:  1517

Hares:  2am and Red Stripe

Location: Monymusk

It was just going to be one of those nights - having announced the arrival of myself and Aids by taking two attempts to run over the AH3 sign I then failed where I have previously succeeded and was appointed scribe.  I did however, after wrestling it from Aids (navigator error indeed!), get the pre run down-down for my girlie driving skills but felt that at least went some way to addressing an otherwise dismal start.

Monymusk is not a location we have used much before - I do recall a very icy day a long time ago that ended in an icy reception at the Grant Arms - amazing what a change of owner will do.  This time the Grant Arms were only too welcoming.

Anyway the run - for those who want the overview - it was a well set figure of eight that was indeed as the hare said part run, part paddle, or in some instances brief swim, that concluded with a good circle.

For those who wish more detail on the run - over the village green and down towards the river by means of a road through the cemetery.  For some strange reason I was near the front but a good place for the horn blower to be.  First check and having failed to learn from following Farmer last week I repeated the error only to see the pack minus three of us (Flying Scotsman was also led astray by Farmer but being of greater speed than the average Hasher was probably back with the pack before they noticed he had gone) head off in the opposite direction.  So horn blower is now at the back of the pack - not a good place for the horn blower to be, particularly useless place to be actually.  Along the river the trail went, past the big house to the bridge and then over the river by means of the bridge.  Once over the river the trail went round to the right, then ignoring a very attractive flat track, it went up, round, and down, back to the self-same very attractive flat track.  Then for some reason the trail left the very attractive flat track, over a distinctly dodgy bridge and into a field of harvested hay.  Over the field went the trail and back to the river and over the river by means of the first bridge.

Interestingly there were several Hashers who enquired of the Hare if this was the same bridge that had originally taken them over the river - you do wonder about the lack of powers of observation of some of our number do you not?

Anyway at this point the first loop and the lesser of the two, of the figure of eight is complete.  Unless of course you are a serious short cutter and have opted to eliminate a loop and have further opted to omit the first loop - not a clever move was it Olymprick and Bruce Almighty? - Which makes you a serious long cutter.

So now for loop number two - up past the grain store and across the road - at this point I lapsed and followed Farmer again - but this time successfully - for while the pack blundered through a forest Farmer and I nipped along a good track round to where the trail came to the track.  Good Hashing! Up to the old railway line and onto that and along to the bridge (now removed) at the road.  A serious flaw here.  Having moved the horn from the back of pack to the front I was now committed to having to do all the run - should have stayed at the back and remained useless! Then the paddling began - very wet terrain and actually just another loop back to the road along from the railway bridge (now removed).  Then down the road to the grain store - second loop of the run complete - and back to the first bridge.  Figure of eight trail is now complete.  On to the beer check complete with sweeties, located on the path beside the river, just by the big house.

Down-Downs:

• Muff Diver - for stamping on a nail being held steady by a large piece of wood to puncture his foot, through his trainer.  No beer consumed as he had left for the hospital.

• The Penguin and Cannae be Arsed for being forced to fall into deep water - actually The Penguin had to swim.  And also to Twizzle and Little Shit for enforcing the said falling into of deep water.

• Olymprick and Bruce Almighty for cleverly skipping one loop and opting to complete the longer and wetter lop of the run - not so good short cutting.

• The Hares - twice - first for leaving their map of the run at a check; then for having set a dam fine run.

• Norma Hunter / Scabby Arse - for running like a girlie due to a pressing toileting need.

• Sergio and Farmer - token recipients of the ‘at last England have won something’ trophy

• Pornochio - for teaching his children to mislead their mother and granddad on matters of national importance.

• On On

Cinders

MONDAY 16TH AUGUST 2011.

RUN NUMBER 1516.  

HARES:  LITTLE SHIT/SHARNIE.  

SCRIBE:  STAINLESS

So why did I get landed with this unenviable task? A goodly number had assembled for this week's run, a glimpse of blue sky and sunshine seeming to indicate that the afternoon rain had abated.  Not so.  A few spots of rain just as the circle was about to start had me scurrying off for some rain gear.  On returning to the circle I realised my folly as a gleeful RA presented me with the luminous top and horn.  But how can the horn be used effectively by a back runner? The rain cleared fairly quickly and I had most of the pack in sight as we launched forth into the forest.  By the end of the twisty path they were gone.  I found myself in the company of the usual stragglers (sorry!) and the back hare who led us on a cunning 'diversion', taking us ahead of the FRBs.  Back on trail, we found ourselves knee deep in water as we started to negotiate the path along the river.  The heavy rain that occurred after the run was set made the going increasingly tricky, persuading our hare to abandon the trail and mark an alternative route to higher ground.  Relieved at this decision, we proceeded to a check and along the road by the river, but no sign of the FRBS.  Either the loop they had embarked on, a mystery to me, was a marathon or they had all perished in the flood.  Although fairly confident that the pack was in the safe hands of her co hare, our hare was becoming a trifle concerned at their long absence.  I was instructed to stay back and keep a lookout, while she and the others went on.  I soon spotted the lonely figure of Hippo on the horizon, with most of the pack thundering along in his wake.  A back check slowed them up, then it was on up and through the woods, this time with shiggy all the way, and eventually to a more civilised path to the beer and sweetie stop.  At this point I learnt that the main pack had religiously/foolishly followed the original trail, oblivious of possible danger.  A short walk and we were back at the venue, with a little entertainment on the way.  This took the form of a scuffle which first saw Farmer, then Red Stripe landing in a muddy puddle, with apparently some involvement from Tiger Feet.

Downs were awarded as follows:

• Scabby Arse - money retention issues at the ATM, fortunately to the sum of £200 which is only loose change.

• Newly christened Barbarella - disturbing the sheep.

• Farmer - leading hashers astray on a short cut.

• T-Rex Cock- singing.

• Nipples - not having been seen at the hash for some time.

• Struth - acting as chauffeuse to a few drunken hashers after the Aids/Cinders barbecue.

• Numbskull - looking at a map of Spain on his smartphone when trying to find out where the run was going.

• The Penguin - wearing multi coloured pyjamas.

• Hares Little Shit & Sharnie - general consensus - good run.

The evening ended with sandwiches and snacks courtesy the hares.  Thanks to them.

Stainless

With no GM, RA & Hash Cash we were left to our own devices so Bruce Almighty stepped forward for the task of Hash Cash and Cannae be Arsed totally shocked all Harriett’s and multi tasked!! As GM/RA very impressive.  Just as we were all about to set off on the run cars, bikes came flying into the car park from all directions in true hashing style may i add, so it was we had two returners Steven (can,t remember hash handle) Robert aka Sweetie and our flying cyclist newcomer Phil.

One year of hashing for myself I knew this day would come soon enough and so it was on Monday 25th July I was scribe for the night.  Really do not understand what all the fuss is about over this task, all you have to do is wear the awful luminous jacket (okay can totally understand that) and honk the horn every so often. . .

Finally the call On On was shouted and off we all went down through Queens Den nature reserve, blah blah blah. .  Right let’s get down to the interesting parts and boy do I have some juicy gossip!! Listen closely, are you ready. .  Apparently Bruce  Almighty is a true gent & girls a tiger in the bedroom, Tonto, Egg Foo, Hippo, Mrs T, Aid's & Cinders are all into swapping partner's once in a while whatever float's your boat as they say (apologies to all listed above, did not mean to offend anyone).  

Okay back on track again. .  Our trail took us round by Marathon Oil, and down by Johnston Gardens and though Hazelhead where once again I (Privet i think you know what's coming now) had one of my many blonde moments.  I was chit chatting to the Hare as we took a short cut through Hazel Head playing fields we were talking about the where about of the walkers of the hash, I suddenly got sight of them in the distance braking into a sprint then at closer view it was the local football team training! Oops it was V.  Funny.

Finally the best stop of run beer for most (chocolate sweets for me. .  Yummy) not long now and we were back in the circle for the On Inn birthday party for The Penguin 's 66th birthday.  In usual birthday style we feasted on sandwiches, crisp's, beer & cake.  Ron dressed for the occasion in full hash king penguin outfit, and was given a bottle of his favourite scotch (which he downed a glass like a tequila shot!!), penguin shaped balloon & chocolate birthday cake.

The circle at the end was just like the start of run at last minute Little Shit remembered about the down downs for our newcomers which he handled very well and poor Bella (wish you had stuck with us girls) got named Wet & Deep!! Due to her reply about Rubi slaw quarry.

Once again the Monday blue's were forgotten about after the usual hash fun and antics

On On Roger me More

Run 1513 –

Bennachie Visitors Centre

Monday 17th July

The run was introduced by Roger-me-More in the absence of the GM, the RA or any other of the older and grumpier members of the committee.  She blew the opportunity for total control of the circle by politely asking people to gather round.  This approach was ridiculed by Farmer - who prefers to be dominated (but that’s another story. . . . ) - But it seemed to work.  Some sucker even volunteered to be scribe after her first pitiful attempts at polite coercion failed dismally.  

• Tiger Feet was awarded the introductory down down for 250 runs with AHHH.  

Just as we headed for the hills Scabby Arse (AKA Norman Hunter) arrived at speed and nearly rolled his new monster truck in an effort to park up and catch the pack setting off.

 It was a dark and stormy looking July evening but the weather stayed better than expected i. e.  it just drizzled intermittently instead of pouring down all the time.  At least this kept the midges down.  The inclusion of a cute puppy in the pack mitigated the disappointing weather a bit.  The trail was a basic left hander through the forest walks on the eastern slopes of Bennachie.  The high point was some way below the tree line in the direction of Millstone Tap.  Despite ample flour indicating to the contrary some Hashers felt compelled to sprint for the top of Mither Tap.  This did not include T. Rex Cock and Bruce Almighty who found the altitude and rate of ascent impaired their normal agility.  The trail was (apparently) ‘hard to read’ - Drillbits words not mine.  Pink Panther and your scribe begged to differ, but then we had a map. . . . . . .

 The whole run was over in 50 minutes except for the walky talkies who took over an hour.  I didn’t see most of it but I expect it was wet, slippery, green, foresty, dark, up and down, steep in parts etc.

 The general verdict was that it was a good effort from a virgin Hare.  

•  Canna be Arsed stood in for RA.  Down-downs were awarded in the circle as follows:

• Hippo, Wotzoff, Tiger Feet - for bounding off uphill and thereby missing the beer check

• Pink Panther & the Unbaptised - for being Scribe refuseniks

• Hippo - named and shamed for not doing a Hash Sheet

• Social Sex (both of them) - just for being there I think

• Struth and Gazelle - for falling over on the run

• Cinders - for falling over several times at the beer check

Lot of People - for having their hand in their pockets in the circle

 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . And despite all the down downs there was still loads of the really really cheap and nasty ASDA lager left.

ABERDEEN HASH HOUSE HARRIERS

RUN NO.  1511

04 JULY 2011

Forvie, collieston

Hares: Flying Scotsman

SCRIBE: TOY BOY TOM

It just proves that you can’t keep Hashers away from a good Hash! Despite road works at the Bridge of Don, the similarity of the names of Forvie Nature Reserve’s car parks and a free broadcast of an opera in Duthie Park, all the Hashers who made it to the Hash site at the Forvie Nature Centre near Collieston arrived to hear that the co-Hare was looking for a shoe in a field (ladies and their shoes!!) and therefore there’d be just one Hare, The Flying Scotsman.  

True, Orienteer had had to be persuaded that, although her car’s SatNav had said she had driven through Collieston, she had in fact driven through Newburgh and therefore was not in the right car park! Down-down for that (and advisably a trip later to Spec Savers!).

 ‘The trail is upwind of the windmill’, the Hare announced, so the Hashers dutifully set off down a back-check! It may have been the Flying Scotsman’s first run as a Hare, but he obviously knew all the devious tricks!

Down another track upwind of the windmill, and the Hashers were on trail.  The trail left the track and plunged into a sea of heather and dunes.  The Hashers soon adopted a scattergun approach to finding the trail, until even the Hare seemed uncertain where it went! Or was he just being devious?

 Over a dune, and to a panorama of light clouds above a sea of green, purple and grey heather stretching for miles around, what was that yellow dot on the horizon? Yes, Numskull on top of a dune looking out to sea.  Was he having a piss or was he trying to attract the sailors?

 A cry of pain! CC’s knee - ouch! But, as RA Aids jealously acknowledged in the Circle happens to the young, CC soon recovered and was encouraging his Dad on.  Down-down for CC for that!

 A sweetie stop in the shell of a building was followed by a cliff top track that gave the chance for a bit of speed and views overlooking the glorious sandy coastline - until - what! a back check! But the last check was the sweetie stop.  Surely not back to there? Retracing their steps, the front runners spotted the Hare, deviously marking an arrow to take the trail through the dunes to the beer stop top of a dune.  

 In the circle, stand-in RAs Ecky Thump and Red Stripe added to the down-downs awarded by RA Aids:  Ecky Thump to Twizzle who at the end of the trail was calling on-on at a check, oblivious to the windmill that might indicate if nothing else did that he’d reached the end of the trail, and Red Stripe to Tonto for cart wheeling as he fell over on the trail (Tonto said he was merely protecting the arm now recovered from falling off his bike!).  Maybe we need a stand-in GM as well!

 The evening was finished with a BBQ in the summer evening light in the dunes:  a bit breezy - could someone turn that windmill off! Well done, Flying Scotsman!

 On! On! Toy Boy Tom

ABERDEEN HASH HOUSE HARRIERS

RUN NO.  1511 B The break away hash!

04 JULY 2011

SCOTSTOWN MOOR

HARES THE PENGUIN & FARMER

SCRIBE - THE PENGUIN

Having arrived from London at 17. 00 on Monday afternoon, plenty time was available to get home, change and pack for the hash and get to Forvie by 19. 00.  Picked up by Farmer at 18. 00 we drove north along Anderson Drive until we met the first traffic jam caused by a truck which broke down or crashed on the roundabout at the top of Cairncry Road reducing the flow to one lane.  Traffic thereafter blocked Anderson Drive as far as the eye could see.  The Penguin being a clever local chap said to Farmer ‘Turn right and head straight down Cairncry Road and I’ll show you a short cut’.  This worked well till St Machar Drive where traffic had again stopped.  We were later to learn that this was the first day of major road works on the Ellon Road creating one of the worst traffic jams in Aberdeen’s history.  After a further 30/40 minutes we were approaching the Bridge of Don and Olymprick was spotted driving the other way back into town.  A quick phone call confirmed that he had given up.  Farmer & The Penguin however decided that we had come for a run and parked the car at Scotstown Moor to enjoy that run and superb it was too.  The circle was convened at the Ruby Memorial Garden on Maberly Street (Olymprick’s house) in the company of Olymprick, 2AM, Trouser Shredder, Canna B Arsed, Farmer and The Penguin  and a good time was had by all.  Advice to future hares – No more runs North of Aberdeen until road works are completed please.  

The Penguin 

Run No.  1510 Brathens, Banchory

The day started well.  In England, specifically SW London where the temperatures were into the high 20’s, people were getting sunstroke, and an already balding helicopter pilot and his new fragrant bride were busy watching Dunblane’s finest ginger bearded sportsman give Johnny Foreigner a good smacking at Wimbledon!

Meanwhile in the N.E. of these Sceptred Isles it was raining.  Hard.  And cold.  Yes, it must be Hash Night.

Things brightened up with the arrival of Olymprick, fetchingly dressed in pink, with the merry cry, ‘Pies!’ Like flies round a fresh turd Hashers round a Freebie, his boot was swamped with scoffers.  A man called Tonto ordered the crumby mouthed rabble into a circle and produced from under his arm a fluorescent orange bib.  People immediately averted their eyes, started shuffling their feet and fell ominously quiet, for hashers.  This Tonto man obviously has a sadistic streak as his eyes fell on a fresh faced new member of the assembled athletes.  (Athletes! Haa!) ‘It’s about time you learnt some names, Sweetness.  You can be the scribe. ’ This to someone who doesn’t even know his own phone number and has to look at his phone to find out whenever asked by authority figures for said number.  However, the man obviously had authority and appeared to be both respected and well loved by the assembled throng.

 A man called ‘Leeky Willie’ produced what seemed to be free, pink condoms of no mean size.  Some Harriette’s were watching appreciatively when it was pointed out that they were actually rubbish bags from Swansea (or ‘Abertawe’ as it is known to those who have a smattering of the ‘Iaith’).  He then proceeded to fit one of these bags over a man called Willy, appropriately, who was probably a serial groper by the way his arms were firmly trapped in said prophylactic.

 A man called The Hare then gave a rambling description of the run.  Apparently it was a ‘probabilistic’ run.  He had laid a bakery’s worth of flour over the countryside - the night before.  When it was dry.  He now disowned all responsibility for said trail as acts of God (rain) were not covered in his Hare’s Insurance Policy.  Act of God? Where does he think he is, the Sahara? This is Aberdeen.  In the summer.  Of course it is going to rain.

 On, On was called and people ambled off parallel to the road, past a greenhouse to the first check.  The FRB’s revved up and set off checking towards Elgin.  The Hare broke the check leading left into a bog.

We meandered through a wood, the FRB’s re-joined and we arrived at a check.  The FRB’s set off at speed towards Braemar.  The hare broke the check uphill through the trees.  Confusion reigned in the woods.  The FRB’s rejoined and blundered through the timber, braying On, On to encourage the more sober, steady members of the pack into some sort of pointless over exercise.  It didn’t work.  A couple of brave Harriett’s bashed through overgrown jungle whilst the rest followed flour (yes, the first sight of flour) around it.  They then had the audacity to challenge the manliness of those who had declined the pointless excursion they had undertaken.

There was yet another check.  Whooping happily the FRB’s headed downhill towards Inverness.  The by now depleted pack (O. K.  Shortcutting B . . . s) followed a nice dry Forestry road to the same place.  A check.  FRB’s looked knowingly towards Stavanger and set off on masse in that direction.  The Hare broke the check along a disused railway line.  By now he had run out of the flour he had been carrying in a small plastic bottle so he started making arrows out of timber.  Fortunately we were in a wood - or had he cunningly planned this? I don’t think that was likely.

A large man, who I had assumed was dragging a black pudding on a pink string with him, bent down and picked up what was, in fact, a dog - called Mary, I think.  Said large man was wearing yellow glasses.  Rose tinted I could understand, then at least he might be able to convince himself he had a Labrador, Collie or a Retriever on the end of his lead.  But Yellow? What was he thinking?

 A short excursion onto the back 9 holes of Inchmarlo golf course by some lost FRB’s resulted in Sergio (Surgeeo?) collecting 3 golf balls.  Where had he been to find those? I thought golf balls were usually lost in tall, thick grass called ‘rough’.  No wonder he was incapable of following a well-marked (ha!) trail on flat open ground.

 A mole (Enron) reported that Olymprick was by now doing what he does best.  He had surrounded himself with poor lost souls and was impressing them by using his local knowledge to lead them out of the woods.  As he led them off, boldly going where no hasher had gone before, a lost soul with a map pointed out that (a) they were on a railway line and (b) he was going in the wrong direction.  And how did she know this? She looked at the map she was carrying.  Arriving at a gate a couple of Hashers demonstrated their understanding of the Countryside Code by advising people to climb over the gate at the hinge end and one at a time to avoid damage.  Shortly after they demonstrated this technique to the assembled company of slovenly layabouts lost souls, including the connecting of lady’s teeth with gentleman’s shoe as he performed said manoeuvre.  Olymprick then spoilt it all by simply opening the gate thereby letting everyone else walk through.

Meanwhile FRB’s were on a mission to see who could get to Peterhead first.  The Hare broke the check to the left into the forest where he fortuitously stumbled over a cache of beer some poor soul had secreted there in a previous age.  At this he declared the run over and we rushed to the parked cars to be reunited with loved ones and midge spray.

During the circle the RA called for Willy, he of the pink condom/bag outfit, for a heinous sin.  Sadly Willy had departed and so he self downdowned.  Numbskull and Screwdriver were punished for using wireless telemetry inappropriately and two maidens were forced to drink beer on the grounds that they were barmaids, or something.  I thought this a little unfair.

Leeky Willie’s imminent departure to the land of the Moose and Mountie was greeted with a mix of delight and incredulity.  To celebrate this momentous news golf balls began arcing through the air and landing at the RA’s feet.  As with the absence of a hasher dressed in a tight fitting pink garbage bag he failed to notice any of them.

The run was officially declared a good run and the hardier souls headed off for a triple On at Norman’s house.

Please note that some of the names have been changed, altered or just made up as I don’t have a clue who is called what.  The facts however are all true.  Would I lie to you?

Sweetness

ABERDEEN HASH HOUSE HARRIERS

RUN NO.  1509

20 JUNE 2011

TONTO / EGG FOO ESTATE

HARE TONTO & SON

SCRIBE - THE PENGUIN

Another pleasant summer evening of grey clouded sky with the threat of rain to come welcomed a very large heap of hashers as they parked in the designated carpark next to the horses and the flies.  Flies? Reminded me of Australia.  Beautiful country and a hundred million flies can't be wrong.

The run started in the wrong direction then zig zagged its way about 15 times around the Tonto residence never seeming to be more than 100m from the BBQ confusing everyone slow and fast.  Checks were everywhere baffling the front runners until eventually the pack got going and found its way to a step ladder stile over a deer fence where The Penguin  negotiated the steps up but stumbled on the way down demonstrating how to land flat on one's back in a bed of nettles much to everyone else's amusement.  Well into the run we managed to catch up with front runner White Trash who had obviously streaked ahead in his usual sylphlike manner but it was the youngsters who took the biscuit racing around madly as we all used to do with no fear of tripping up on rocks.  

 Food ably BBQ'd by Egg Foo awaited the pack on return and damned good burgers they were too.  After all were suitably fed the circle formed and debate ensued as to whether or not it was the longest day but I can't recall if any conclusion was made.  Stand in RA Canna B Arsed dragged in Cinders for taking the wrong track then complaining about nettles and other shit then went on to Naturists for no apparent reason involving Scabby Arse - a second member of the Arse family - for wearing the brightest, prettiest top either to attract the flies or to scare them off.  Fond memories of youth were brought back when we were told the story of the son of Careless and Walkie Talkie who was brought home one morning by Grampian Police who had found said son in a ditch somewhere sound asleep.  Since this showed good upbringing, the parents were rewarded by beer.  Another son excelled himself by deciding to cycle back from the weekend in Findhorn via the Cabrach and the Lecht and who should this be but the son of Mad Cyclist (Bog Brush) who was duly awarded a down down.  Apart from not knowing whether or not it was the longest day it seemed that none of the youngsters knew when Father's Day was with cards being gifted days apart.  All were brought in for drinks.  Olymprick's best chat up line was overheard by Cinders who spotted him chatting up a lovely young wench with the words ‘These are my best hash socks’.  We were not told whether or not the line worked.  Those who were not at Findhorn may not know that a 12 man tent is called so because it takes 12 men to erect it and 12 men to strike it, It has nothing to do with the number of hashers it can sleep because this one apparently slept 34 plus kitchen sinks and everything else happy campers need.  The laugh was that in folding up the bugger Mad Cyclist lost his car keys within the folds.  Leeky Willie stepped in as RA pointing out that he had been away 3 weeks and had sorely missed AH3 but strangely nobody had noticed that LW had not been around.  He proceeded to point out that young Chris, son of Hillary, had run the trail with one shoe as the other one was so worn and painful and yet his father was driving a £90K BMW.  The same father however suffered on the weekend Bash when he cycled into a stone and tumbled arse over tit wounding his arm almost to Tonto standards.  

In summary it was a good run and circle of young folks and their incompetent parents, several Davids and a number of recollections of bumps and thumps.

Welcome to new runners Jenny and Malcolm and many thanks to Tonto for a good run and to Egg Foo for the lovely grub.  

The Penguin

Aberdeen Hash House Harriers

# 1508

Date - Monday 13th June 2011

OnOn - Porthlethen Railway Station

OnInn - Mains of Balquharn (Brewers Fayre), Portlethen.

Hares - Thrupp'ny Bits

Surprisingly I volunteered to do this, I must be being affected by the rash of write-ups that are actually being done.  Either way, here is my version of events, I cannot be held responsible for any of the contents you are about to read, due to hearing and visual disabilities, which I'm reminded about on numerous occasions, so here it is.

The Portlethen Railway carpark!

Only feels like yesterday - so what is it to be?

As advised by hare of the day, Thrupp'ny Bits - duel carriage way to the West, sea to the east and a rail track in the middle, all dangerous in their own rights if you try to cross them!

I get ahead of myself, the circle was called to order and:

Dutch Cap had finally reached his 150th hash with Aberdeen H3.

Well done! It had only taken him 21 years to realise this heady run number, his first run being on the 29th July 1990, and AH3’s # 391 at Cammachmore, ably laid by Cinders and Aids. I'm an anorak, but who cares.

I recently did our census as instructed by our masters in Leith and sent the form back!!

In answer to the question, 'Do you have any dependants?', I put,

'Asylum seekers, illegal immigrants, smack heads, unemployable bastards, the cast of The Jeremy Kyle Show, Northern Rock, RBS, Ireland, Portugal and half of fucking Eastern Europe!'

 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  Apparently this wasn't an acceptable answer.

The run set off over the road bridge, aka the rail lines to the first check at the church.

First mistake, I checked round the back of the church, so did One Liner and Whinger, so I was in bad company indeed.

Back at the check, Red Stripe and Horny Blower pointed me off in the right direction.

The trail actually headed north along the road to Old Portlethen, at which point I made another basic mistake, so this got me to thinking about what Confucius did NOT say. . . . .

Man who wants pretty nurse, must be patient.

Passionate kiss, like spider web, leads to undoing of fly.

Better to be pissed off than pissed on.

Lady who goes camping must beware of evil intent.

Half way along this road we had another check, so obligingly I climbed the gate and checked the field out.  At this point the pack split up a bit, it was the last I saw of Glasgow until I saw her wandering around in the housing estate near the end of the run.  Off went the pack in the opposite direction, mistake number 2, so this got me to thinking about what Confucius did say. . . . .  .

Squirrel who runs up woman’s' leg will not find nuts.

Man who leaps off cliff jumps to conclusion.

Man who runs in front of car gets tired, man who runs behind car gets exhausted.

Man who eats many prunes get good run for money.

War does not determine who is right, it determines who is left.

At this point I made a good decision and cut across the fields towards the life boat yard, while most of the pack headed of along the cliffs to Stonehaven, followed by Hippo and Tonto, who had not gone quite far enough before being called back…. . Unlucky! So this got me to thinking about what Confucius did say. . . . .  .

Man who fight with wife all day get no piece at night.

It takes many nails to build a crib, but one screw to fill it.

Man who drives like hell is bound to get there.

Man who stands on toilet is high on pot.

Man who live in glass house should change clothes in basement.

Man who fish in other man's well often catch crabs.

Once in the lifeboat yard, things got complicated, one road out, no flour, hmmmmm, I wonder what Confucius might say?

"A lion will not cheat on his wife, but a Tiger Wood!"

So I decided to stick with Canna-B-arsed, Oneliner and Babies Arse as we hit the heather bashing trail, at this point after running through a back check we came across Tiger Feet and Sharnie who claimed to be on trail.  Who am I to argue…. .

On On, past an old hasher’s house, serving beer to Tonto and anyone else who knew him!

I then got into a long chat with Canna-B-arsed and I believe he has a new job at the zoo in Edinburgh!

As a new start, he said, he was given three tasks to do on his first day.

First was to clear the exotic fish pool of weeds.

Which he did, but then a huge fish jumped out and bit him.

In panic he beat it to death with his spade.

Realising his new employer wouldn't be best pleased he disposed of the fish by feeding it to the lions, as lions will eat anything.

Moving on to the second job of clearing out the Chimp house, he was attacked by the chimps, who pelted him with coconuts.

He swiped at two of the chimps with a spade, killing them both.

‘What did you do?’ I asked.

‘Fed them to the lions’, he says ‘because lions eat anything’

So, he hurled the corpses into the lion enclosure.

He then moved on to his last job, which was to collect honey from the South American Bees.

As soon as he started, he was attacked by the bees.

He grabbed the spade and smashes the bees to a pulp.

As he is a quick learner, he knew what to do, so he shovelled them into the lions cage.  You guessed it! Because lions eat anything.

Later that day a new lion arrived at the zoo.

It wandered up to the other lions and says ‘meaow, growl, roar’ Roughly translated into "What's the food like here?"

The other lions say:  "Absolutely brilliant, today we had Fish and Chimps with Mushy Bees.

Then we got to the confusion point, left or right?

Hashers evenly split into two directions and totally missed the flour.  So most of us headed west, and as luck had it found traces of trail and a quick left we onto the beer check.

Lots of chit chat at the beers check, plenty of Tangle Foot kept me happy for a wee while.

Numbskull told us of his recent travelling experience with Scot rail and the correspondence he had sent them.

Dear Scotrail,

I have been riding your trains daily for the last two years, and the service on your line seems to be getting worse every day.  I am tired of standing in the aisle all the time on a 14-mile trip.  I think the transportation system is worse than that enjoyed by people 2,000 years ago.

 Yours truly,

Numskull

 --------------------------------

 "Dear Mr.  Numbskull,

 We received your letter with reference to the shortcomings of our service and believe you are somewhat confused in your history.  The only mode of transportation 2,000 years ago was by foot.

 Sincerely,

 ScotRail

 -----------------------------------

 Scotrail,

 I am in receipt of your letter, and I think you are the ones who are confused in your history.  If you will refer to the Bible and the Book of David, 9th Chapter, you will find that Balaam rode to town on his ass.

 That. . . .  Gentlemen, is something I have not been able to do on your train in the last two years!

 Yours truly,

Numbskull. "

On back to the cars and the usual round of down downs.

As I lost a bit of interest at this point I picked up the following:

Flying Scotsman complained about being picked on, a fair charge for wearing slicks or was it sticks…

Then, not a down down, but a plea from Fifi for garden chairs, and then in a round about way, food and other things to enable a garden party to be held.

Then, there was some discussion outside the circle about Hill-Ary's new trainers, which he had quickly dispatched to the back of his car to avoid the inevitable suck, gulp swallow.

It was a good shortish hash, decent beer check and some good company - nice one Thruppeny,

Feeling tired now, I think I'll retire to bed…zzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Your noble scribe

Little Shit

OnOn to #1509

So Tonto picked on me ‘cos I’ve been sick! Hurumph - scribe I am then on a beautiful sunny Monday evening at Kirkton of Skene.  

Pre-r*n down down was awarded to the lovely Red Stripe for her 50th run, Yay!

And it was over to the Hare, Ballerina who proceeded to draw lots of odd pictures on the ground with flour which meant absolutely nothing to us so we all ignored it.

I was with The Walkie Talkie pack which was bolstered to around 10/12 with a variety of usual pack ru**ers currently injured, sick or lazy arsed.  2 mins into the r*n we were back at the cars - Cool, beer! Nooooo, onwards and downwards and rightwards we went and passed the beer check - Cool, beer! Nooooo - On On was called further down the road into the sunshine, over a wall, through the trees, fields, tracks and trails and not long after this we, the WT’s were set off on an alternative route to the ru**ners so I have no idea what happened to them but Cannae Be Arsed returned home with considerable friction burns on his knees!!! Said he was with Hippo all night and that it was his fault!

Much bletherin’ was had by us WT’s about Norman Hunter’s LEJOG adventure and a quick climb up a garden wall to see what was hiding behind it - just vegables, no Beer!

Eventually we came across the BIG B sign, Cool, Beer! Nooooo, Olymprick sent us all in the wrong direction - WHY, WHY do we listen to him??? We should know by now.

Yay! BEER???? Yes, we find the Beer and bit by bit the ru**ers come in, including eventually the Hare for whom there was no beer left - much grimness : -(

Circle Up and down downs were awarded to:

• Scabby Arse for completing LEJOG & also a renaming!!! He is now Scabby Arse.

• The Penguin offered to sooth said arse! Scabby Arse declined the offer.

• Thruppeny Bits & Biggles   for a 10k and a demo of Its All Because’s attempt to squish poor wee Killer.

• Olymprick for partaking of wrong type of hash whilst in Holland, being arrested, fined & chucked off the choo choo at which point he snuggled down for street naps.

• Me on behalf of Cannae Be Arsed (as he was driving) for dissin' the RA's lack of leg length (2AM), Wotzoff failed to open his gob in time to catch the flying beer and got a droochin'.

• Intensive Clare & Eee Ecky Thump for partaking in athletic stunts and abandoning trainers on site at the Ming the Merciless duathlon.

 If I forgot anyone, soz: -)

Cinders announced the annual Atkinson rave - let her know if you’re going!

That Is All.  

Trouser shredder xx

Run No.  1504. 

Monday 16 May 2011.  Dunnotar Woods, somewhere near Stonehaven.

A little bit of running here, a little bit of running there.

A little bit of forest paths up here, a little bit of forest paths down there.

Over a stream here, back over the stream there.

A little bit of gossip here, a little bit of gossip there!

Amazing how many stories you hear when you are scribe and Red Stripe, Golden Shower and I were so busy yapping that we lost the trail.  See Down Downs for some of the latest gossip as the rest I can't tell you!

Along the river here, back along the river there.  Eventually got to the beer stop but there was no beer left by then L L Great incentive to run faster next time!

It was a brilliant picturesque run complete with the aromatic smell of wild garlic, reminiscent of past runs at this location.  So thanks to Drillbit and his love of nice scenery.  Just how did he manage to lay a run through Stonehaven and still make it feel like we were in the countryside?

Back at the car park the pack were refreshed with Olymprick's stovies and sandwiches.  If that wasn't enough, a vast banquet appeared out of Drillbit's boot! Happy Birthday Drillbit! Hope you had a good one.

Still hungry, some hashers were seen munching on sticks of rhubarb courtesy of Tiger Feet!

The best bit of being chosen to be scribe was being a horn blower around the trail!

On On!

Downs Downs awarded by stand in RA, 2am:

• Drillbit and Michael - Hares of the evening - great run!

• Michael (Drillbits daughters Bo) - First Hash run and he also had to be a hare.  Nothing to do with the fact that Drillbit could have a few birthday beers since he had a resident taxi driver for the weekend!

• Drillbit - Birthday boy!

• Olymprick and Cannae be Arsed - Steel abs!

• Skinny Witch - Throwing favours at new runners.

• Eee Ecky Thump - Great house warming BBQ on Saturday.  

• Tiger Feet - Did you really throw your daughter in the pond at EET's BBQ.

• One Liner (and Skinny Witch) - From across the river he could see everyone at the BBQ but couldn't actually find his way there even though he had sold the property to Ee  Ecky Thump!

• Intensive Clare and Red Stripe - Something about Peeping Toms and cats hiding in the shower in the toilet at the BBQ on Saturday.

Hash Scribe

Smiler

Arrived at the hash in plenty of time,

Yet GM says the scribe job is mine

So as a bit of a change,

From the usual essays,

I'll recount the run all in rhyme. . .

It's a May evening as nice as can be,

Some old faces, although new ones to me,

And the very first run,

For Tonto's long lost son?!?

Thus begins run 1503

"4 spots and you're on", the hares say,

"There's no fences but mind the highway"

"and no need to fear,

Of course there's some beer!

And a short cut for those too lazy. "

The trail it does twist turn and bend,

For some it's a long way to the end,

They go the wrong way,

How many times must we say?!

Remember the flour is your friend

At last the beer stop is found

Thirsty hashers collapse to the ground,

Down a few jars,

Then back to the cars,

For the circle to give some down downs.

One to redstripe for an imminent birthday,

Roger me More for winning a lottery,

And thanks to a broken down car,

That didn't get very far

Intensive claire's fined for good charity.

One for many runs goes to thrupenny bit

One for cinders, Aids drops her in it!

One for the flying scotsman,

And brian cox's biggest fan,

Fireflaps has an autographed tit

Some down downs have no doubt been missed

But I'm too lazy to rhyme the whole list,

So just one thing left to say,

Don't forget, Saturday!

Come round to mine and get pissed!

On on

Ee ecky thump

ABERDEEN RUN 1501

IN THE GRANITE CITY ON THE 1ST OF MAY

A MOMENTUS OCCASION WAS HAPPENING THAT DAY

IT WASN'T A WEDDING THAT WAS ALL THE RAGE

IT WAS ABERDEEN HASH THAT HAD COME OF AGE

THE HASH, STILL DRUNK, BEGAN TO FLOCK

TO PARTAKE IN THE RUN AT 11 0'CLOCK

150 DIE HARDS HAD CRAWLED FROM THEIR BEDS

SERIOUSLY HUNGOVER WITH SPLITTING HEADS

THIS MAY SEEM A HEAVY PRICE TO PAY

BUT AH3'S 1501ST HAD TO BE RUN ON THAT DAY

ON THE STROKE OF 11 AT THE STATION HOTEL

THE HASH WERE READY, MOSTLY UNWELL

BEFORE THEY STARTED, THERE WERE A FEW INSTRUCTIONS

THAT WERE MET WITH RUMBLES, GRUMBLES AND RUCTIONS

THE GM TONTO THEN AUCTIONED A DRESS

WORN ALL WEEKEND BY LEEKY WILLIE, WHAT A TERRIBLE MESS

AN EDINBURGH HASHER WON THE BID ON THE DAY

£20 POUNDS STERLING, THE FOOL HAD TO PAY

THEN HOGGY WAS GIVEN THE HONOUR OF SCRIBE

BY THE WAY OF A DOWN DOWN, HE'S EASY TO BRIBE

ON ON CRIED THE HARES, LETS NOT DILLY DALLY

IT'S ACROSS AT THE LIGHTS, THEN UP YONDER ALLY

WE ZIGGED AND WE ZAGGED THROUGH THE STREETS OF ABERDEEN

AT NO GREAT SPEED, NO ONE SEEMED KEEN

ALONG THE SEA FRONT, THE WEATHER WAS STUNNING

STOP FOR THE VIEW, AND A BREAK FROM RUNNING!!!

A VOICE SAID, OH LOOK!!! THAT STADUIM IS NICE

IS THAT THE ONE THAT THEY CALL TANADICE

DRILL BIT WAS THERE TAKING PHOTO'S ON THE RUN

HE SEEMED THE ONLY ONE TO BE HAVING ANY FUN

BUT ALL WAS NOT MISERY, COZ JUST UP AHEAD

WAS A THAINS THE BAKERS VAN, BUT NOT FULL OF BREAD!!!

INSTEAD OF THE NORMAL ROWIES AND PIES

THERE WAS BEER, WINE AND CHAMPERS, A FEAST FOR OUR EYES

WITH ALCHOHOL IN HAND, WE'RE A HAPPIER CROWD

THAT WEE MAN OLYMPRICK HAD DONE US ALL PROUD

THEN A CRY FROM OUR R A, IT WAS ON ON AGAIN

WITH DRINKS IN HAND, WE TOOK UP THE STRAIN

BACK TO THE VENUE FOR BEERS AND MORE FUN

WELL DONE THE HARES A FANTASTICAL RUN

A CHANCE FOR SOME BEANS, CHIPS, AND SAUSAGE ROLL

THEN OF TO THE BALL ROOM WE ALL DID STROLL

THE CIRCLE WAS FORMED BY AIDS OUR R A

WITH HIS FAMILIAR WIT, HE GOT THINGS UNDERWAY

GUEST R A'S WERE ASKED TO THE FLOOR

IF YOU WERE A SINNER, BEST MAKE FOR THE DOOR

CRAMOND, SEPTIC AND THE INFAMOUS LEEKY

WERE PICKING OF VICTIMS, MAKING BUMS FEEL SQUEEKY

NO QUARTER WAS GIVEN AS STORIES WERE TOLD

THE ROOM FILLED WITH LAUGHTER AS PLOTS DID UNFOLD

AIDS WAS KEEPING THE BEST TILL LAST

TO ENSURE THAT THE CIRCLE WOULD END IN A BLAST

THE TWAT OF THE WEEKEND WAS THE CLOSING STORY

IN CONTENSION WERE TWO, VYING FOR GLORY

BUT IF TRUTH BE TOLD, THERE WAS ONLY ONE IN IT

THIS SOCIAL HAND GRENADE WAS DESTINED TO WIN IT

AIDS QNEW EXACTLY WHERE THE AWARD WOULD GO

THE TWAT OF THE WEEKEND, YOU'VE GUESSED IT SANS'O'

THE CIRCLE WAS CLOSED, ALL GOOD THINGS HAVE TO END

THANKS ABERDEEEN, A BRILLIANT WEEKEND

HOGGY

Aberdeen Hash House Harriers:  

1500th Run 30 March 2011

Hares:  Farmer and Harley, Toy Boy Tom and Twizzle, Bruce Almighty

On On:  Bridge of Potarch

Weather:  Bright sunshine and blue skies! 19 degrees and sunburn!

On Inn:  Outside catering by Thain’s Bakeries at Finzean Village Hall

They say the sun shines on the righteous so I’ve no idea why the hash should have had the best day we will probably see this year! Bright sunshine, blue skies, weather to revel in.  The thermals will in all probability come back out again next week when it will try to snow.  

Welcome all to Aberdeen H3’s 1500th run.  It was good to see many ex AH3 hashers returning for the 1500th. 

Pig Pen, Ged, The Myth, Tortoise, Big Al and Hash Tray, The Lone Ranger and Silver to name just a few.

Following a strict timetable, dictated by our RA Aids, we all had to be on the bus by 10: 00.  If not we were going without you! I’m sure this caught out a few, as the hash is never normally on time.

Where were we going? Only the committee knew and despite a couple of near misses with careless talk, after a few beers, their secret remained safe.  After spending 35 minute bussing it into town with Twizzle, One Foot and Sergio to make the 10 am deadline we were promptly driven straight out again past our front doors!

Banchory we thought, but no, onward into deepest Aberdeenshire to the ‘Bridge of Potarch’.  Local knowledge did not help, as we were all doing an A to B from there to a secret location.  Where were we going? No inside knowledge imparted so no chance of short cutting

Three buses with 150 hashers parked up in beautiful sunshine.  

The GM Tonto eventually called a circle where he and Aids welcomed everybody to the 1500th AH3 run and thanked the visitors for coming.  

Sans O was given the traditional pre run down down.  I can’t remember why but it would have been well deserved!

There were three runs, an easy walk for the walkie talkies, set by Bruce Almighty, a medium run (slightly longer than a normal hash) set by Farmer and Harley and a ball breaker (two hours if you run it, three if you walk) set by Twizzle and Toy Boy Tom.  Distances unknown and they were not telling! We found out they were 4, 7 and about 13 miles respectively after finishing.

Electing to do the medium run to save my little legs we set off in roughly a Southerly direction.  Not being very fit and trying to take photos, I quickly watched the FRB’s disappearing into the distance.  I didn’t have a telephoto lens to take any photos of them so consoled myself enjoying the run and views from the rear of the pack.

For some ideas of where we were please see:

I finally caught the FRB’s at the beer check

We had set off through the Ballogie estate to who knows where.  As an Aberdeen Hasher I thought I knew the area fairly well but with Farmer and Harleys’ meanderings I lost my bearings completely until coming out at the Finzean War Memorial.  Well done the hares!

Ah Hah! I know where we might be going and being foolish enough not to flag down our busses as they just happened to be passing the memorial we carried on up the hill towards ‘Tom’s Hill. ’ I knew this could be a bit of climb but fortunately there was an early swing right towards the beer check.

The beer check was located perfectly on a South-facing slope and there were still bottles of good beer left for the slowcoaches as a well-positioned final falsie caught the FRB’s out just before the beer check.  The ball busters arrived about 15 minutes later with Hippo leading the charge down the slope with Pig Pen three steps behind.

After admiring the scenery and enjoying the sun and beer our leader, Aids, checking his stopwatch, cajoled, kicked and woke up several to continue to the ‘secret’ location.  More beer and we could have spent the afternoon there sunbathing! However the unknown venue happened to be Finzean Village Hall complete with a grass lawn to continue basking in the sunshine complete with lots of good food and beer

To our surprise we found Olymprick with his ‘work’ head on, a sight rarely seen when hashing, with a bevy of young ladies doling out several concoctions of stovies, rolls, choccie bars and trifle.  Many thanks as it were a fine feast after negotiating the hills.  It all went down rather too well as did the various fine choices of beer.

A circle was finally convened with Aids, Hoggy, Flying Dutchman, Septic Sporran and Leeky Willie all in fine form with too many ‘victims’ to remember except the Mayor of Finzean who had come to ensure we did not make to big a mess of his hall.  Leeky Willie did assure him that trifle was good for the grass.

Back on to the transport and a return to the Station hotel adhering to Aids timekeeping.  We were one minute late arriving back at the hotel but I think we will allow him that one piece of poor planning.

Well done to the hares, committee and caterer and thank you all for a first class hashing day out.

On On

 Drillbit

Aberdeen Haggis H3

29th April 2011

Hares:  Cinders and Nipples

Scribe:  Sergio

Location:  Station Hotel

The Pre 1500th Wedding Dress Run

The highlight of this run was gathering at the back of the Station Hotel to see everybody in their finery!! One Foot and I arrived with Twizzle to see a whole host of dresses, kilts, veils, tartan etc. - but no trains.  Funny that, given our location.

There was a terrific round of photo calls with the best dressed being pushed together to form hash ‘wedding groups’ for the most exotic shots.  The P&J ‘Sports’ photographer was to the fore here too - no stranger to wildly excited groups in tight kit he!

Those that deserve a special mention for their efforts on this auspicious day include, in no particular order, Tiger Feet, Red Stripe, Roger Me More, Privet, One Foot, Leeky Willie, Egg Foo, Horny Blower and One Liner.  And an even more special mention must go to Fireflaps and Butt Slapper who really looked the part.  No, really they did.

If I missed you out - sorry, you’ll have to try harder next time!

GM Tonto, resplendent in blue sling, called us to order and threw me the Scribe jacket and the horn.  After a few preliminaries from him and the hares we were off.  We took a sort of spiral route on our way to the banks of the Dee, turning many heads as we made our way (some more elegantly than others) through the streets. 

Across the Dee and round the prison, back along the Dee and across the footbridge, we went through Duthie Park, along the old railway line and flirted with Holburn Street a few times.  Legs were getting tired and feet sore with all this pavement pounding.  To make matters worse Mad Cyclist led us the wrong way and we had to backtrack to find flour again.  Then it was under Holburn Street and into the Ferryhill area.  Were we heading to the hare’s house for the beer? It didn’t appear so as we carried on round the houses but, yes, finally, the flour led us into the lane where Aids’ garage is and thankfully we completed this marathon!

The garden was packed with hashers, not many of whom had spent much time on flour I suspect.  They had made a good dent in the weekend’s beer mountain given the volume of chat that came from them though, and Tonto had trouble bringing them to order for a circle and a few down downs. 

I was too tired and too thirsty to remember all that was said and done.  I can remember that Tonto and Egg Foo had a drink, arm in arm, as did Monsoon Drain and Cuprice.  The ‘mothers of the bride’ were called out, and Olymprick, dressed as a vicar, drank with the aforementioned Butt Slapper and Fireflaps after they had been singled out for their sartorial efforts by RA Aids.

It wasn’t long though before we were on our way back to the Station Hotel to gather our bags and make our way to the Old School House to watch those ahead of us eat all the sandwiches, then to the Prince of Wales for more beer.  And finally some filled rolls perhaps from Thains Bakery.  Or perhaps not.  At this point there were less than 12 hours to the start of the 1500th run itself. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . (cue music)

ON ON,

SERG

Well, it was the first (and probably last) time I have ever had to scribe a hash run. . . . . and the best bit was blowing the horn the whole time! However, disappointingly most folks said they couldn't hear it, except for Struth who was right next to me most of the time.  And since I am probably the SLOWEST runner in the pack I really have no juicy tidbits of conversation to relay . . . . . but there are surely a few very nice asses to look at from behind! The run was extremely strung out. . . . I rarely saw more than 4 or 5 hashers at any one time, and no one seemed to be shouting.  Aren't we supposed to shout??? The best bit of the hash was through millionaires’ alley . . . . . a few very large well-groomed houses.  We stopped to invite one couple to join us in their British BBQ kit.  Numbskull got the 555 shorts award, the zipper broke before he put them on.  

Nureyev graced us with his Edinburgh presence and got his 50th run shirt.  

Not sure how many folks found the beer check, but I didn't.  

Burgers and cake for Hippo's 59th were enjoyed by everyone though.

Egg Foo

Having been away for a good year (albeit running with the Surrey Hash and a cameo appearance as co-hair for run 1480) it was good to get back into the running with the Aberdeen H3 to see the faces of new and old.  This run being the first Monday run of the year began from Banchory’s main car park with the weather sunny and pleasant and a good turnout.  Having said that, what I would know having been away so long and not particularly being here that long in the first place!

As the pre-run circle formed the atmosphere begin to simmer as it was stated that this was run number 1498 and it was less than 2 weeks before the 1500th weekend.  I made the mistake of wearing the 1983 t-shirt kindly donated by Aids last year which caught his attention and landed me as scribe for the first time ever (so here goes. . . . ).  No new runners but a young family of returnees were present.

The hares were Numbskull and Whinger (??) with the run seemingly in two parts.  The first part laid by Numbskull was said to be all fine; 3,4 or 5 spots and you were on.  The second part seemed to have some issues as it was mentioned that we may be interrupting some folk participating in their ‘sport’.  The advice was that we should meet Whinger before venturing into part two such that we could be somewhat guided (quietly and safely) past the sportsmen and women.  This worried the group that there may be some casualties on this run if we were to stray into the middle of a game hunt, but nobody was totally sure what sport was going on.

The pack set off around the back of Banchories answer to Cadonas and along a small path next to those playing/doing archery.  But we were well away from the arrows and it wasn’t part two of the run yet so this couldn’t be the sport to worry about, could it? The FRBs got lost down a small cul-de-sac before the group realised we had been thrown a dummy and we needed to pull a U-turn to get on track, running along the North Side of the Dee.  The run followed the Dee alongside the golf club (sport number 2 but no danger).

Further up the Dee we saw Whinger for the first time, he told us to keep low past the fishing lodge that was stated to cost £1000/day to rent out.  This was sport 3 as we saw a few fisherman on the lodge balcony but left me wondering where the danger was.  The golfers seemed to find us amusing and the fishermen weren’t fishing so far. . .  So what was up ahead . . . ? We cut under the road under a nice tunnel with a stream through it into golf course number 2 (Inchmarlo Resort) but we were heavily in the woods and well out of reach of even the most errant hook or slice.  

We worked our way through the woods and found ourselves running past a couple of tennis courts to see sport 4 of the night.  The sounds of ‘on-on’ were returned with calls for us to shut up from the tennis players, so sport 4 was looking the most dangerous of the night.  We worked our way what seemed to be straight back to the start and past some youths in a playgrounds (sports 4,5 and 6) but still no danger.  We worked our way through more houses and the bright ones among us had worked out we have simply done a long loop along and around the Dee.

Beer stop was at Whingers house with a beautifully landscaped garden and cold beers on offer.  A brilliant stop after a fun run and I can report that no Hashers were harmed in this run.  

As we staged back in the car park the murmuring began as something was clearly up, but what!? A hash faux-pas:  warm beer! In the circle the truth was slowly drawn out, there was no hash cooler, but where was it? Numbskull owned up. . .  He didn’t do himself any further favours by asking Hippo what he did for a pee on the London Marathon.  You have to applaud Hippo for making it back to Aberdeen the day after London and getting running again.

Down-downs were for baldie bastard, part-timer and numbskull before a wedding dress went up for auction.  The dress was from a friend of Fireflaps who had stated it was no longer required in any way shape or form and a size 18 should fit some of the more slender male hashers.  The bidding began and the dress was sold for £22, all going to charity.

A thorough pleasure being back with AH3 and I hope to see more of you.

Gazelle

(Needing lots more runs to even resemble hish Hash tag)

Last Sunday run

Run number 1497, Sunday 10th April, 2011

Hares:  One Liner & Skinny Witch

On a typically glorious sunny Sunday morning, a motley assemblage congregated at the Persely Bridge walled garden car park.  Due to the great heat of the day, I quickly nipped back to the car to load up on fluids - but not quickly enough.  Hence, you are reading my drivel instead of anyone else’s.

Olymprick got his 750th run award.  Well done?

One Liner pointed the direction of the On-On, and the pack (very gently) moved off.  A simple first-off Falsie across the bridge, and back to follow the riverside path back past the walled garden - into which Struth vanished, presumably to indulge her topiary habit.  It was not long into the run, when myself and those loping alongside realised that the disturbing noise which we assumed to be a stroke caller on a passing galleon yelling ‘Row!’ was actually visiting hasher Peanut.  Discussions about his loud, enthusiastic and incomprehensible yelling featured heavily in the conversations throughout the run.

The route followed the riverside for a while, with comedy markings on jetties and fallen logs across bogs before making a hard right through some nettles to take us past the Woodside playing pitches.  Along Don Terrace and down the steps to the Grandholm footbridge.  I heard tales of some Hashers continuing over the bridge and turning left towards Tesco, but I never saw anything.  The trail continued along the southern riverbank where it was of a muddiness quite considerable.  It wasn’t long before we were back on to grass and then tarmac past the big dust pile/construction site and entered the questionable area of Tillydrone.

Checks were few and far between, but it was about here that I lost sight of the entire pack as I followed the trail into Seaton Park.  Realising I was on my own, I stopped and On-On’d for all I was worth (some would say not much), and elements of the pack trickled into the park from all directions.  After crossing the Brig o’ Balgownie it was then a fairly straight route back along the north side of the river.  The pack stretched out for miles, and it took quite a while before the stragglers found their way to the Beer Stop at One Liner and Skinny Witch’s house.

At the circle, hash handles were awarded to Fat Slag (Laura) and Don’t Luke (Luke).  

Peanut was re-handled Foghorn, and Olymprick donated a shoe chalice for the renaming ceremony.  Leeky Willie unveiled a new song.  It was sung to various melodies.  At the same time.  I was punished congratulated for having the horn at the front of the hash.  NHS, Fat Slag, Heather and myself all got Body-Mass Index down-down’s.  I didn’t have a calculator at the time, and claimed a 22.  Heather claimed 19. 9, but now I sit down and get Excel to work its magic, I am 18. 7.  Does this mean I win? No.

Almighty Bruce got a down-down, but I couldn’t work out what it was for.

On-Inn was at Buckie Farm.

That is all.

Flying Scot

Aberdeen Hash House Harriers

Run no, 1496

Sun 03 Apr 2011

Tillyfourie,

Hares: Hippo and Mrs T

Scribe: T-Rex Cock

Mother’s ruin

Enjoying the warm sunshine in Tillyfourie, I was slow in responding to the GM’s rather gentle call to form a circle, and so was appointed scribe for being last to arrive, just before a horde of Johnny-come-latelys from the remoter parts of AH3-land roared into the circle.

The run theme was to celebrate your mother hash.  These ranged from Phnom Penh to Wessex.  My mother hash runs were long, long ago in a distant desert outpost of the British Empire, and my chest has expanded well beyond the confines of the old Qatar West Coast 36” thin cotton hash vest.  Thrupenny Bits has a similar problem, but came up with the ingenious solution of wearing two vests, one on each ***.  And magnificent they looked too!  Little Shit and Sharnie however maintained the image of AH3‘s senior hashers and harriettes by looking trim in their rather venerable mother hash shirts.   While admiring a 1977 hash vest, Ecky Thump realised she wasn’t even born then – so much hashing lore for the hash lore mother to tell her.

After going a couple of hundred yards I realised that I hadn’t fully recovered from crippled foot disease, and couldn’t run.  Being forced to jog along at the back of the pack could be a major drawback for a scribe.  However, I was able to appreciate a well-set and well marked trail – and without having to run any of the false trails.  The checks were all in spots with no obvious out trails – and all were impeccably marked by the hare.  The trails and direction changes were clearly marked, and it wound through different terrains and great running territory.  One-spot on-ons, a quarry lake, a ravine and a bright sunny morning.  The run was a joy, if a solitary one.

Talking of which, Intensive Claire seemed to be taking a very long time to slide herself over a fallen tree trunk.  “It was good to feel wood between her legs” she said.  She must then have got lost in the forest as she caught up with me about 20 min later, well behind the rest of the pack, and we jogged along just in time to see the beer disappearing from the beer stop.  

Ecky Thump was warning others about the dangers of predictive texting, ”Our Seth get a text from his mother saying “Your father and I are going to divorce next Thursday”” – turned out they were only going to Disney – try it.  Her mother once moved house because she read in the paper that most accidents happen within five miles of home.  She spent three months trying to find another word for thesaurus.

Harley and everyone else agreed the mother hash theme was worth making an annual event: along with the red dress run and the last Sunday run – after all a boy’s best friend is his mother, as Norman Bates [Ecky Thump – ask your mother] said.  My mother was wonderful – she wanted my own kids to be just like I was – “then you’ll know what its like”, she said.  She gave me lots of good advice – taught me to fight fire with fire – which is probably why it took me so long to get a job as a safety engineer.

There were a lot of down-downs and not enough scribe roll to record it: so the down down account might have got a bit jumbled. (I blame the perforations.)

Down-downs went to one half of our hash beer department was now qualified to be next year’s hash transport and to one half of our social sex department for having an 007 T-shirt named after her.

There were reports of several funerals, funny and sad, but Cinders tale of turning up to a friend’s funeral, only to find him setting next to her had me choking over my amber nectar.

Olympick and Leeky Willy had conned the Perth toilet association into sponsoring Norman Hunter’s Action Aid charity – because of their research into the benefits of uric acid: anyway Norman enjoyed his special down down.

Tonto and Ecky Thump were down-downed for not waiting to strip until the train was in the station on the way to Jockhash – I think there’s a song about that. (EK: AYM)

A d-d for Drillbit who discovered it took exactly 5 min to change his watch batteries around by arranging to be exactly 5 min late to catch the bus home.

Then there was a lot of dubious male talk about chafing and shaving and special creams, but the tale ended happily with Norman Hunter giving Hippo a T-shirt to advertise AH3 on TV.

One good thing about lots of down-downs is that Aids didn’t have time to tell any c**rg*tt* jokes.

 Everyone back to Mrs T’s for a five-course lunch.  As Mother Teresa said, “If you can't feed a hundred people, then feed just one hash”.  Everyone except me ‘cos I had to dash home to help T.Rex Hen sacrifice an ancient piggy for mother’s day.  Nothing like mature crackling – ask your mother.

Pip! Pip!

Those who attended:

Hippo, Mrs T, Jimmy, Little Shit, Sharnie, Harley, Red Stripe, T-Rex Cock, Pornochio, Roger Me More, Goat Wrestler, Intensive Clare, Privet, Nipples, Oneliner, Wotzoff, Thruppenybits, Aids, Cinders, Drillbit, Skinny Witch, Olymprick, Leeky Willy, Prickly Bush, Sergio, Pink Panther, Tonto, Ecky Thump, Bruce Almighty, Numbskull, Dutch Cap, Whinger, More Butt, Fifi, JC, Scabby Arse, The Lum, Ballerina,

It was a rather gathering on a bright and sunny Sunday, a few brave hashers made their way to Three Stains on the Slug Road, only to find that no Hash committee were there to attend.

Was it that it was to far? Or were confused that it was the first day of summer and had forgotten to change there alarm clocks, no, they had chosen to go to Perth for a drinking competition or were up to dubious things in a hut near Aviemore. . . . . .

Sir Edmund Hillary was panic stricken that he might have to R. A, but when One liner turned up in his bus Edmund carried him aloft and made a worthy nomination of him.

The Circle quickly formed and Hippo gave myself a down down for running as a non-hasher at the Deer Stalker the weekend before, yes it was true, i was to ashamed to mention AH3.

When a hash Scribe was being pick on, i made the stupid stupid mistake of nominating Little Gash, only making myself it instead, but at least I will write the Scribe. . . . . . . . . .

Off we went thundering along the trails trying to find Pig Irons little flour H, up along round around we went, the Hares leading from the back until we came upon a pack of wild horses, then Beer was quickly found, then back for the circle.

One Liner gave Intensive Claire had a down down for being a grass on her own flesh and blood, (never ever tell her anything)

 I got another done down for something that i can’t remember, then the Hares shuffled into the circle for a raucous down down.

Then it was time again for Hippos never ending soup wagon to roll.

Theresa had freshly made it that morning, and had included Jerusalem Artichokes; she proudly told the hungry mob that she was suffering from excessive wind after sampling her own soup, and by the greenish hue of Hippo he had sampled the full force of Teresa's trouser burps.

How much soup can he sell, not enough as is still to be on sale next Sunday.

Nipples

Hash Scribe

Aberdeen Hash House Harriers Run 1493

Hares:  Eee Ecky Thump and Gazelle

On On:  Burnhervie ‘Shakin’ Brig’

Time:  11: 00 13th March 2011

Weather:  B. . . dy ‘orrible.  Rain, sleet, cold and wind with snow and slush lying on top of slippy and muddy terrain.

On Inn:  Curry at EETs’ and Gazelles’

Ignoring the ring of silence the GM Tonto had brought to the circle and telling him to ‘take no notice of me’ a s I walked across his ring of utterly silent followers I was presented with the scribes’ vest and horn by the glowering Tonto! I must pay attention.

 I had arrived late having found the vehicle with hash beer, Horny Blower and Red Stripe hopelessly lost and phoning a friend.  More importantly I escorted them to the run venue.  At least we were on the right side of the river as namely Leeky Willie, 2 AM and Struth had found themselves on the wrong side of the river with only a pedestrian suspension bridge between them and the run start. .  Their dry clothes at the end of the run were 400 m away.

 Several new runners were introduced as Intensive had dragged along her whole family, Mum, Dad, brother Richard and girlfriend Lettie.  Also there was a Welsh lass, Tegwen, a Danish girl, Kristina and Bjoern ‘Happy Trail’ ex Houston Hash

 One announcement with Twizzle planning to set a Full Moon Run on Sat 19th March at 19: 00.  This was quickly vetoed as we would all be watching the rugby and he would be on his own! The full Moon Run is now Fri 18th March so somebody may turn up.  

 The two Hares Eee Ecky Thump and Gazelle explained the run had been set with flour laced with curry powder to colour it slightly against the snow.  I would like to have seen the dogs eating that! There would be several back checks due to some confusion between them, a river crossing and a waterfall.

 The hares pointed us across the ‘Shakin’ Briggie’ to which everybody but the hares galloped across to find 100m past it, no trail.  Back then to where we really knew it would go, across the mill race and into the Fetternear estate.  EET had permission to enter the grounds as long as we stayed on the paths.  Fat chance as she had forgotten to tell Gazelle that fact.  The pack was kept together as the curry laced trail meandered along the muddy riverside, crossing the path the walkie talkies were taking.  The curry coloured flour merged nicely with the tree trunks and mud and slowed the FRB;s perfectly.  ‘We have to go past the old chapel and derelict Bishops Palace’ says I to our new runner ‘Happy Trails’.  We didn’t.  We stayed in the mud, snow and puddles and it was cold.  Bjoern was not so ‘happy’ now. 

 The trail took us round the perimeter of the Fetternear estate with the checks keeping the pack generally together.  Well done.  Downhill to a beer check where three cases of Tennant’s lager were promptly ignored for the bottles of decent beer found by the FRB’s.  I will have to run faster!

 For those who have not seen the ruins see: <a href="http: //www. atfreeforum. com/fitlikeaiberdee/viewtopic. php?p=3999&sid=22e3020922f3c0871878464cac928db9&mforum=fitlikeaiberdee">http: //www. atfreeforum. com/fitlikeaiberdee/viewtopic. php?p=3999&sid=22e3020922f3c0871878464cac928db9&mforum=fitlikeaiberdee</a>

A circle was called and Leeky Willie promptly led a rendering of his song ‘Welcome to the Granite City’.  A Welsh choir we are not.  We only have two singers in our midst T Rex and Flying Scotsman.

Down Downs:

•  Wotsoff and Margaret for sartorial elegance

•  Heather and Adam (No hash handles yet!) the great romantics

•  Sharnie for ensuring Little Shit still fits his shorts and vests from twenty years ago

•  Struth for losing her glove and never writing her scribe!

•  Roger Me More.  Privet and Leeky Willie kindly presented with On Secs tee shirts by NH6 so we know who they are.  Thanks Martin.

•  New runners/visitors:  Kristina, Bjoern, (Happy Trail) Richard, Lettie and Tegwen

•  Privet for negotiating a roundabout on her journey to gain a driving license

•  Hares:  Eee Ecky Thump and Gazelle.  Thanks for a good run

On Inn at EETs and Gazelles abode with proceeds from an excellent curry going to the Wooden Spoon Society. 

On On

Drillbit

Aberdeen Hash House Harriers

Hash Scribe Run # 1492 @ Tyrebaggers

Hares Little Shit & Sharnie

Sunday arrived a lovely bright spring day - perfect for hashing.  Rounded up Leeky Willie, Olymprick, Oink and Mimi, plusa serious amount of Party Mania stock, packed them all into the Struth-mobile and headed out to Tyrebagger woods.  One quick call to Bruce Almighty gave us the run start location, bounced along a track and arrived just in time for everyone to pile out to Tonto calling the circle.  

Oh what a colourful sight - the whole hash in fancy dress - those who had not bothered/remembered fancy dress were given sparkly hats - the pink Stetson I gave Toy Boy Tom definitely suited him the best! Tonto was resplendent in white outfit, which turned out to be the Christmas fairy gear nicked from the Waldorf School!

Awards of 50th run T-shirts were given to Horny blower and Skinny Witch, then the main man;

Little Shit stepped into the circle, to be given his black “Seriously Get a Life” hoodie and Zimmer frame (bought on eBay - one previous owner!).  

Here's to your next 1000th, Little Shit, you're looking good!

Just to make sure we all knew where Little Shit was on the run, Leeky Willie tied a bright orange balloon to Little Shit's bunny ears - he came back later, but the balloon did not reappear, so we think he popped it.  

Little Shit and Sharnie were hares for the run, so with quick instructions to keep on trail, the techni-colour hash headed off into the woods.  

It was a great trail, taking us through parts of Tyrebagger woods I had not run before, including a couple of serious shiggy puddles.  

Leeky Willie could not resist these and Little Gash and later Tiger Feet got seriously muddied as they tried to escape past his well-directed mud-flinging at their previously white clothing.  Just wait till you're wearing your dish-dash Leeky Willie - Tiger Feet may just get you back! We stopped for the beer check / choccy stop towards the end of the trail, to then have to clamber up a wall. Fortunately Goat Wrestler gave me and several harriettes a help up, so we could head back to the finish of the run.  

The circle was Little Shit's chance to give down downs, in the absence of Aids, and he was on good form.  

The down down which got the most laughs was given to;

One Liner, who was dressed as Spiderman's thinner alter-ego, complete with mask and cape, which looked pretty mangled by the end of the run.  On trail, he had stopped to speak to a man out walking with his son.  The little boy had looked OneLiner up and down and then said “Look Daddy - its Spiderman!” to which came the brilliant reply “That's not Spiderman - that's my solicitor!”  

There then followed a special bubbly down down to Little Shit for his1000th - well deserved, when he was given a “This is Your Hash Life photo album from Drillbit filled with photos covering many years of great hashing.  

Circle over, everyone was invited to Little Shit and Sharnie's pad for food and drinks.  Quite a few folk went along and had curry, rice and all the trimmings, followed by trifle and cake.  

We were also treated to Drillbit playing some of his many hash photo shows on his laptop- well worth a look as he has so many, everyone is in there somewhere.  

The afternoon's entertainment was various hashers trying on a pair of multi-coloured trousers which were too small for Drillbit.  They went up to One Liner's armpits and Pornochio only just got them on, so they went to Leeky Willie whose shape is a shorter, slimmer version of Drillbit, so he says.  

After thanking Little Shit and Sharnie for a great run and hospitality, we all headed off to leave zimmer man to a well-deserved rest.  

OnOn

Struth

AH3 RUN 1490

Duthie Park, Polmuir Road

 Hare:  Roger Me More & Toy Boy Tom

I knew I was in trouble even before the run started since last week's scribe Koge Bell had not retuned the scribe vest and hash horn.  I nearly got away with it was is not that the GM threw the imaginary kit in my direction at the start of the circle.

Sergio was awarded the pre-run down down for turning up at the Riverside carpark guilty of not reading the directions to the run site, poor show indeed.  It should have been Numbskull but his mobile telephone intervened, more about this later.

The Lum retuned for one of his rare appearance as we are so close by his abode and the hare, in virgin hare T-shirt explained that we were in for a treat with all sorts of interesting sites to behold, yeah right so close to Torry?

Never the less four spots and you are on and there is a sweetie and beer check so promise of some substance intake with all this wind blowing well below zero degrees without the rain.

Predictable start and no fooling Aids, we are going over the footbridge and like a sheep being lead to slaughter yours truly followed his advice and was there any flour there, off course not, not even over the bridge however the bushes provided a welcome relief.

Back on the north side met up with Stainless and White Trash, confused as ever but the pack was spotted near the last bridge heading into Torry.  On On passing Olymprick over the bridge back along the river path to the Boathouse.  Well I was there 20 minutes ago so well done hare confusing all.

Missed the sweetie check, nobody called out especially One Liner, you cannot trust these solicitors on their day off, into Torry properly.  P the hill and then ran out of flour again with a choice is she going under or over the railway, definitely over so joined the pack again on Wellington Road onto the beer stop in junckie land under the Southern bridge.

• Fireflaps was introduced to the Sky at night on Numbskull's phone looking for the moon.  No sign of the moon off couse far too cloudy and miserable for that,

• We were introduced to a new hairstyle as presented by hash beer

• Bum Slapper was nearly renamed Gussy Crotch for his lovely email address

• Numbskull and Junior Numbskull for turning up late receiving calls and Numbskull's birthday

• Lazy Bastard of the day was The Lum.  

• Full Moon non-attenders Pornockio, Bum Slapper and Fireflaps, the last two for dogging in the Countesswell Carpark, well nothing else for it after all.

• Leeky warned Olymprick to keep his vehicles off the road this coming Friday for Privet's second driving lesson and Aids for basically driving to Duthie Park, all of half a mile from his house, well he is old afterall according to Cinders and she should know.

Finally the hares for a fine run, no rain and I have not got a clue what happened at the On Inn.

On On

Harley

 PS can we have the scribe vest and horn back please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The 1487th run started on time in the frost covered car park of the Broadstraik Inn, Westhills, much to the chagrin of the resident Chef, who protested at the presence of so many potential customers.  The year 1487 was also the year that Leonardo Di Vinchi’s created his Vitruvian man.  An early charge was given to Arse Wipe for not know what the forthcoming ‘1500’ is, and Pornocchio was assigned the role of Scribe - I suspect on account of his limited knowledge of his fellow hashers names.  

So I started running with, fat guy, old guy, bad breath guy, nice accent lady, nice bum lady - but taken, cutie 1, cutie 2 - on second thought I will stick only to those names I know.  

A bitter wind created the one the coldest runs of the year.  The evidence was obvious for male runners who were desperate for a Hash Slash at the outset but had to cover several kilometres before their man parts were warmed up enough to grow sufficiently to be retrieved by frost bitten fingers, so that the Hash Slash could be conducted with the least mess possible.

We were shown the bleak but beautiful countryside north of Westhills, including a lookout point and some lugubrious highland cattle.  At the beer stop we were denied the results of the Andy Murray’s Australian Open challenge not out of spite but to protect us from the truth.

During the circle our attention was drawn to Twizzle, who not only competed with the FRB but also had run from home to get to the Hash.  

The Penguin  then joined the circle to call for a remembrance to Big Mac, who’s passing was marked with the drinking of his favourite Ale with Hashers who knew him well.

RA regaled us a story of One Liner calling him on the telephone and inventing replies to his own questions, without waiting or listening for a response.  

• One Liner was charged with being a Dunderhead.

Additional fund raising was done for Hippo for his Marathon training, including the auction of a red dress.  The dramatic scene saw bidding surge from £2 to £11, with the Numskull the final victor with a staggering bid of £11. 25.  

Finally the Hares, Annie Bollocks and Ballerina, were congratulated on a great run.  On on was into the warm and hospital Broadstraik in to passive the car park owners.

Regards,

Pornocchio

Run 1486 scribe

On a beautiful spring Sunday, much excitement was happening in the Crathes Castle car park, what was the special event, a special occasion? Marriage? Good news? Lottery win for some poor hasher, no, it was a birthday, but not any old birthday it was AH3 birthday! 28 years young.

Myself being so young, I relied on our senior hashers so tell me some tales for long long ago, how the trails were long and difficult and were the Harriet’s were young and single. . . .

Silly hats and strange clothing were worn, so nothing new there then.

Roger Me More was the stand in for our elderly GM, is she being groomed for a higher office, or just being groomed?

For the wee waif screamed for silence, but as usual Struth was talking the legs of a Donkey, order was restored and our RA announced the sticking out bits were back in place to a wild cheer and pointing and a wink from Satnav.

The other half of the RA, the hare gave the normal talk about what a fantastic trail that was awaiting us, and off we went in to the wild thick forest, where after five steps from the car park JC tripped over a twig, or a ‘Technical equipment failure’ but Twizzle also took this as an opportunity to fall but because he needs the attention.

The dog shit walkers had done a fantastic job of wiping out the flour; luckily the hare was taking the lead and showed the way, and after a very challenging run, beer was found, and then back for the circle.

Down downs,

• Droopy Dick for being late, also

• Leeky Willie was a late Santa and gave Norman hunter his late late Crimbo present another edition for his extensive Man Pink wardrobe,

• Also down downs for something to do with Australia, and a couple of new runners for being new runners.

After the Hare had one as well, there was a mad scramble for look warm soup and dry bread rolls, but Little shit and Sharnie just about ran over The Penguin when they made their rapid escape and Sharnie was heard to say that for 25p donation they expected a three coarse meal with wine.

Unfortunately the soup was subcontracted to Hippo, and this was one big mistake, no pan for the soup, no ladle, and so and old bin lid and ex junkie’s spoon was found in the bushes, this was enough to distribute to the baying mob, and donations went to Hippo as his road tax is due.

A Birthday cake was also found in a car, but the ‘All the best on your retirement’ had not been fully picked off.

The Cake was a highly decorated sugar covered monstrosity, but with most of the elderly hashers having type 2 diabetes, most was left to be produced at the 1500 run.

On On

Nipples

Do you want the good news or the bad’? Asked the Hare.  ‘The good news is that flour is your friend.  The bad news – there is no flour’.  

However, no flour did not deter the pack from the trail, which found its way in as straight a line as possible from one stop to the next. Minimum running.  Maximum stopping. Indeed Trupennies arrived at the first stop well ahead of everyone else – how did she do that? Obviously flour just slows her down.  

From the circle, short scampers to:

• Toy Boy Tom’s for traditional shortbread, to

•  Bruce Almighty’s for whisky mac (more whisky than mac - some more delicate Hashers gasped for water!), to 

• Aids & Cinder’s for champers (that's class!), to the band stand at Duthie Park for more whisky mac, to 

• Pig-Iron & Stainless’s for bloody Marys and a final scamper back to 

• Farmer & Nay Nicker’s for the circle, more beers and 

• Nay Nicker’s wonderful food.  

No time was wasted on the run with trips, falls or car-kicking, such was the lure of the stops.  At the band stand stop, Leeky Willy lead an adaptation of 10 green bottles which needed further adaptation as Hashers who had been counted onto the bandstand mysteriously appeared again at its steps to be counted on again.

In the circle, 2 new runners were welcomed, secret shopper Drillbit gave The Penguin  a cuddly penguin, and the many Hashers new to the New Year run were welcomed in the traditional way.  

A great start to 2011.  On! On! to Hashing in 2011!

Toy Boy Tom