Saturday 1 December 2001
Venue: Arsefelt's
Hares:
- Rusty Bollocks
- Moose Dick
Virgins:
- Angela, Linda, Eileen, Hank, Simon, Mike, Greg, Keith and Kelly
Returners
- Popcorn
- Kim
- Heather
- Dave
- Karla
- Emile
Visitors -
Special welcome to all the St Kitts Hashers. Down down to St Kitts GM (not allowed to drink alone and therefore joined by MAHH GM
Namings
- Sarah Sweeney: henceforth known as Marina (as in Stingray)
- Valerie Elder: henceforth known as Little Weed (qualified pharmacist, and we all know why we study that, don't we...)
Down Downs
- Dog Owners: Arsefelt and John Smith
- Disrespect: Dr Bagley (for being seated)
- Smotherers: Mon, Jeane, Heather and Alex
- Ambitious One: Harry
- Inappropriate Attire: Frigid Mermaid, plus Harry for not informing his guests (Anyone would think that he enjoyed down downs)
- Visitor: Simon
Charges
- McElder made a charge against Steaming Eruption – the negligent seismologist
- Arsefelt made a charge against the hares Rusty and Moose - setting the Hash by car
- Arsefelt made a charge against Rusty - leaving his keys in the car
- Rusty made a charge against Moose – castrated – lost his balls.
- Moose made a charge against GM that he was oblivious of the Chelsea score (untrue – down down to Rusty)
Run No 13 - The Hash Bash
Saturday 1st December rolled around and so did the first-ever annual hash bash for HHHM (that stands for Hash House Harriers Montserrat you morons). A good turn out of hounds managed to find themselves at Arsefelt’s home at the allotted 4pm for the start of the big event. Five minutes before the hares, Moose and Rusty gave out the instructions for the run/walk the heavens opened. However, in true Montserratian style no one was disturbed by mother natures inconveniences.
The run:
The hounds took off with great gusto (if you can call a slow waddle great gusto) in search of some flour, with no reindeer or Father Christmas in sight (I thought this was meant to be a Christmas run). By the way what were Moose and Mama Smurf doing in the bushes?
The runners soon separated from the pack and nobody saw them again until they finally made it back to the base (more on that later). The trail wound down some gully that looked a bit like Tora Bora (that’s in Afghanistan for those of you who don’t have a TV or radio). The traffic ground to a halt going up the hill as a certain policeman and his wife took their time thinking they were walking through a glen in Scotland.
Back up from the gully and the trail split with the runners going one way and the walkers plodding their way back to base complaining that 40 minutes was too short for a walk. Some of the faster runners didn’t know when to stop and kept going and going – miles away from the trail. (Remember to look for flour next time) The slower runners followed the trail down to Woodlands Beach and up the steps to the road, whereupon, two of the most gorgeous, fit, vivacious hounds (R Bullshit and Cowpat) were stopped by a certain American land owner and told off for running through his property, as he muttered something about us trying to sue him should we fall and break our leg – surely he could tell that we weren’t the fragile type. However, in true hash style we blamed someone else – namely the hares for being so stupid for putting a run through his property.
Meanwhile somewhere back in Olverston the serious runners were wandering around looking dazed and confused unsure where they had gone wrong. Eventually common sense prevailed, they admitted their stuff up and ran back to base where everyone else was already on their third Carib.
The On-on:
There were numerous hash virgins (Angela, Linda, Eileen, Hank, Simon, Mike, Greg, Keith and Kelly) who were all warmly welcomed with a down down.
A couple of namings took place, Sarah Sweeney has been given the name of Marina and shall be henceforth known as such. Valerie Elder tried to get out of being named stating that she and her husband already had a name – the McElders. A very weak excuse and the crowd saw through it and renamed her Little Weed.
As HHHM has now been running for a year there was a change in some of the hierarchy. The position of religious advisor (RA) had been hotly contented, (I lie, no one wanted it) but then Village Idiot thinking it was a prestigious position that he could add to his CV, volunteered and was duly elected. Many thanks go to the previous RA, Rusty for his sterling effort over the last year. The other position to be elected was hash scribe, Lori Young was nominated with Cowpat as back up.
Other down downs were awarded as listed above.
The Hash Shit Shirt is becoming more disgusting each run. The nominees were Rusty (walk too short) and Anthrax. Finally awarded to Moose – you lucky man.
The On-on-on-on-on:
The hash bash was a great event and carried on until the wee small hours of the morning. Memorable events of the evening included a couple of silly party games that always manage to catch someone out (Harry should perhaps be christened Gullable), and a bicycle being ridden into the pool by one apt named hash man. The following day the site of the hash bash looked like a cross between a Chinese laundry (various items of clothing were hanging in the trees), a lost and found sale at the local school and MS Osbornes (over 300 caribs were consumed.)!!!
ON ON!
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