Monday, June 30, 2014
Spartacus the Sandled Sportsman set a sporting run in the biting cold from JDs sports Bar. The idea of setting the run on a piece of paper, with cryptic clues leading to a cryptic drinks stop, smacked of the former teacher. 1912 SANK was the answer, but many decided to drink, not think, and missed out on not a bad run.
Heavy unfortunately failed to grasp the nettle by the thorns and had nothing cryptic in his screw. Mind you, Heavy has never known what a cyptic screw might be. Greek orthodox?
Glen Campbell's Galveston, or Spartacus oh Spartacus, was the song of the night, but the melodic charm of the absent GM was noted
The one thing learnt is that The Bill has no idea. Well over a thousand runs and The Bill has no idea.
At least he recognised the departed Max pre run with a communal drink.
Welcome drink to HAL the deep space uniforker from Montana, and many follow up charges to Silic, the unishooter, for staining his sheets, and changing his sheets, and cracking the sheets at charges not related to him.
Rowdy was charged for missing out on the dwarf tossing, or being a Ranga, or something from the weekend. Boot Rooter apparently got a close head job in Vietnam.
Next weeks' run is by Num Num Nummy from 103 Cuthberts Rd, Alfredton
Friday, June 27, 2014
REAR ENTRY was too bushed to go bush, and probably just as well. Autumnal bliss had passed and just as the groundhog had predicted, the blizzards had truly hit the ‘rat region with strong gusty winds and single digit temperatures. (Surely too much for a Yendon Shed to endure so Battlers again was the go.)
Wisely guided by SIL who was convalescing couched in the car, REARY battled the elements and actually marked an entire run by himself for the first time in 15 years of turning up. All 6 arrows were impeccably drawn, not to put too fine a point on it. The tempest subdued into a relatively still yet cool evening as the mini-pack admired the sculpted lines of the precious trail arrows unaccompanied by the Hare.
The highly complex run took us up Dana Street and back down Sturt Street. A wonderful insight to the complexities of an oft-times much maligned, thoroughly camouflaged, genius.
Equally imaginative the Drink Stop was secreted in the car boot behind the venue. Who’d a thunk it? Nothing wrong with that as it was well stocked and hardly in need of ice anyway. Full of self-satisfaction at having so simply ticked the run box for another year, REAR ENTRY excitedly danced off address a homecoming Bishop while Tommy, despite all the practice, had just forgotten HALF the words of “these feet, these hands”. The bright side is he remembered half. So On- Home to get half full.
Welcomes Backs to our country members. Most sniffycnt run went to MRS DICKHEAD hitting 400 and chomping into a stiff icy Kaluah and milk down down. Palindromic pals REAR ENTRY, 515 and SHAFTED on 414 shared a moment.
HEAVY wasn’t too light handed with his heart felt screw of the Hare having been bitten by the infectious charm of REAR ENTRY he thought “Once bitten twice shy” might be the tune but showing your rear entry was also to MOON. So he looked up his books of synonyms and finding an Asshole is a REAR ENTRY and REAR ENTRY is an asshole, he now had his hymn into which to fit some telling lyrics;
He’s just a regular Joe with a regular job,
He fixes TV's in the back of his shop while he plays with his knob
He will visit your home and then he will gloat,
He has charged $100 just for replacing batteries in your remote.
The chorus was lovingly and unanimously uniting with a yodelling note;
He’s an asshole, what an asshole,
ASS HO LE OLEO
Yes an asshole, such an asshole
ASS HO LE OLEO
ROWDY again took enthusiastically to stand-in Sargeanting. REAR ENTRY starred many times reigniting the yodelled chorus. BAD HAIR DAY aims to discover whether his lips will fit just as well on a Chinese trumpet as his aussie one without blowing a gasket. An ASSHOLE is just an AHOLE without SS. “Show us your scar love” someone cried, expecting the visual delight of a Hash Tart’s flashed gash, only to have THE BILL show off his surgically scalped scone, aka BILLYBOTTOMY. With the operation a success, BILLY GOAT takes the GM reins and reigns while it rains and SHAFTED “Mediterrains”.
Down downing ‘til the dinner gong sounded, we battled our way into the taverns dining room for some sumptuous feasts.
Next Week’s Run: Join SPARTACUS at JD’s BAR city centre in Lydiard Street across from the George.
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Punkxsutawney PHIL got caught up in a Groundhog day loop from which he couldn’t free himself so he called on the Gallant Sir PussBucket to ride to rescue and pull his finger out his bum and set a Plum Run.
As 1667 is nearly the same in Roman Numerals as 1666 we had another ground hog day loop to enable ROWDY to revel in the marvel he missed last week. If last week was “better than a palindrome” this was one better again, MDCLXVI and I. (It took his mind off SILIC’S dogs eating his and PEBBLES’ pies.)
When we ran out into the night we didn’t need a ground hog to tell us that the winter weather will indeed, likely persist for six more weeks at least.
We ran through Aldi and around Old Alfredton, lumbering longingly along Longley looking for lines then into the deep dark of Vic Park. The old drones ambled lop-sidely around the camber of the old veladrome to a Hash Halt at the heel or foot of the imposing mullock dump of the United Hand-in-Hand and Band of Hope Shaft, later known as the Park Company where gold was mined from the Inkerman Lead, a former tributary of the Yarrowee buried deep under basalt. But, as PussBUCKET would say, “I digress”…. Slip slop through shiggy in the park, on up to Gillies (more pies) and to the Drink Stop under cover of the closed bottleshop. A Good Gallop for those willing to “put in” chasing well marked trail and Love Bare Tail.
We settled into the smoker free smoker zone with heaters alight and the rolley doors down. Welcomes Back to PEBBLES and HYMEN (what all the hash tarts sorely miss) and NORMAL (who was travelling ON LAVE (sic), not on sick leave where, as rumour has it, he had his wallet and all emptied by a tribe of tyrannical thai trannies). With sniffycnt runs was MOUNTIE on 979 not 797, and HEAVY on free fat fraulines, 888. (THE BILL doesn’t NORMALLy miss those!) KWAK’s 6 weren’t important enough unless LOIS said it.
HEAVY was verily virile and rampant in his eagerness to SCREW. As Gallant SIR PUSSBUCKET, who was the fill in for PHIL who flew the coup, had likewise flown the coup after setting the plum run, it became incumbent on Damsel in Distress DAME MOUNTIE to fill in for PHIL’s in fill and take one for the team on behalf of her other half. (Thanks also to the ladies for helping with the food.)
As earlier this month we mourned the death of the Doc who went off with The Angels and we are never gonna see his face again, HEAVY’s fitting tribute fitted in PHUCKWITT PHIL and hairy Arse; (that’s a semi colon not a colon Doc)
Coarsely yet melodically, “Can’t stop the memory that keeps going through my brain.
The thoughts of his hairy arse make want to NUM NUM the pain.
The thoughts of his hairy arse make want to NUM NUM the pain.
Are we ever gonna see his arse again? NO WAY GET FCKD FCK OFF!” (“Fark!” HALF A BAR barked, “I know half the words.”)
ROWDY took the Sargeant Bull by the Horns and there was obscure charging about foozeball, happy honeyspoon to GILF, World Cup and some firm Brazillian soccer balls begging a little more pumping. GLIDER as Bridesmaid offered something old something new borrowed something blue, a knob of elbow grease? SILIC couldn’t drag his attention from SkyChannel greyhound coverage and rooting for the PinkBox.
MRS D praised HEAVY for bring-a-friending, berated Immaculate Conception for glass-a-rolling, HALF A BAR, though he has had plenty of Sheep and other farm yard friends, has never had a pig! He gained points for dressing his BAR LIQUOR BAR DEE DOLL and coming as a “his and hers Half-A-Ruckman set”. He was intending to speak to SPIDER about the DEES win over the DONS but it was a SORE POINT. Happy Campers, SILIC, ROADRUNNER decamped prematurely and REAR ENTRY disappeared so he couldn’t elaborate on his much anticipated……..Next Week’s Run: The Old Home Town Looks the Same with return to the Greene Greene Grass of Home at Biggsy’s Battler’s Tavern on Bakery Hill.
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
1666, while thinking with the pack that the prime relevance of the number was the year of London Burning (The title of a song by THE CLASH, the Anarchic band that also sang LONDON CALLING), ROWDY by email alerted to the golden fact that 1666 is the only year/number that includes all the Roman numerals in descending order MDCLXVI!!!! (always remember, Not Methodist Ladies College.) ROWDY was very excited “better than a palindrome”
Further to this, a popular belief was that the Messiah would return to earth in the year 1666, especially by a lot of Jewish people. (HALF A BAR was afraid to go to Hash Hell in the 4th dimension, preferring to focus on 3D goals with ROWDY).
As with last week, another walk comingled with the run but with a stuttering starting and numerous on-backs, wending its way down the Yarrowee, and once more to 1 Hunt via the foot of Black Hill. The Queens Crowns and girlie drinks were cool as we stood under the gas heater at the REAR ENTRY of the SOSSY Shack and admired the coronations in the garden.
Welcomes Back after an extended break of 20 years or so to BUNGEE, looking more youthful than his former contemporaries. (ie SS, BENT and THE BILL who said he once had to make him Pullover out near Cardigan and found BUNGEE had a JUMPER named after him.)
Sniffycnt runs were in short supply so we had to re-KKKKall on KKKKarol on 5 now has a nice Hand Full.
As the run was almost a duplication of his own run the week prior, he had to rate is highly, adding it had only taken SOS 10 years to cotton on.
The SCREW kept with the Queen Birthday imposed theme and sang “God Save Our Salacious SOS, too long reined over us”. He then had to FLESH out the meaning of SALACIOUS that has SOS down to a T, “relating to sex in a way that is excessive or offensive”. With synonyms including: pornographic, obscene, indecent, improper, indelicate, crude, lewd, erotic, titillating, arousing, suggestive, sexy, risqué, coarse, vulgar, gross, dirty, ribald, smutty, filthy, bawdy, earthy. Also, an anagram of SOS TOSS OFF almost makes FOSTER SOFT. (Hard to say out loud)
Seargent SPENCE ducked in last week but had ducked off again taking BOOTROOTER with him to keep a closer eye on him….so SHAFTED, having to Seargent solo slipped out of the sepulchre to weturn with a wonderful wooden weapon to wave awound with which to bestow Kweens Birfday awards;
The look of enthusiasm could be clearly seen with tightly pursed lips (on her face) she and Hubby were Damed /Knighted for their dis-service to the republican movement, arise DAME MOUNTY and SIR PUSSBUCKET. (he does tickle her with his lance a lot and you must admit it does have a ring to it!)
Speaking of rings, BHD’s Ring Finger got a rise out of FM when they came together on the run he reminisced about HOPAWATI. “To the second knuckle” he claimed.
Back to before the run, DUMB told the tale a large dog having an endless weekend as it died while humping QUEEN NUMMY’S leg. PUSS BUCKET had to bury it (the dog not the leg. nor the bone nor the lance) and not having the digging intent of a miner, he would have preferred it be a Chihuahua. He had to get his buddy SPARTACUS out the front with NUMMY between them as she has two legs to die for.
SILIC UNTIL he coughed had a nice DEEP voice but it was now back to NORMAL. He took so long to get OUT THE FRONT of the Circle we may have to move the CIRCLE to SILIC next time. On out the BACK DOOR to the toasty Dining Room where we was fed, and with a bottle of wed, made most welcome….until we weren’t.
Oh, Last Week’s Run was One Heavy Hunt, then as next week’s hare was not there, we had to wait until someone’s cloud of dementia momentarily lifted and it was revealed that;
Next Week’s Run: PHUCKWIT FILL @ PARK HOTEL on Sturt Street, West of Gillies Street
Saturday, June 7, 2014
1665 was the year the black plague hit the City of LONDON big time, exacerbated by a particularly hot summer. Nobility cleared out to the isolated safety of their country estates. The Clergy likewise headed for the hills to preach to their brethren from afar. Such was the drivel filling in time awaiting the HARE’S extrication from the kitchen.
One Hunt is in a park like setting nestled at the foot of Black Hill and bounded by the Yarrowee Brook. It lies DEEPly ROOTED in the historic GOLD producing country of the Fabulous East. HEAVY’s Humid Humus Humpy is Heaped in Horticultural Honours including Heirloom plants and productive fruit trees.
The walk comingled with the run almost (perfectly so HEAVY said) basically circumnavigating Bridge Mall in a wide arc back to DS at ANOTHER FOSTER Family office. The Coopers were cool and pale and we Headed On Home to Hunt.
Welcomes Backs to the SORRY Menage e trois including FLOJO and JACK, DONUTS were round again as were PEBBLES, The happy CampCampers SPENCE, REAR ENTRY and SILIC returned browned up and opalescent after their northern Jaunt, GARY and KATE attended to help FOSTER relative harmony.
Sniffycnt runs were SPENCE 1010, PEBBLES palindromic 383 or something, KKKKATE & KKKKAROL building two nice pair, NUMMY had a 351 for DUMMY to tinker with and rev up.
The prodigal SCREW had only just returned from 5 week in the wilderness missing 5 HHH runs but getting on very well with Mrs P and 5 chunky daughters. But Shyly set about screwing himself again and singing about his inverse humility. “Lord its Hard to be Humble when your perfect in every way”. Fortunately this was counter balanced by some creative contributions from MRS D with JOELENE cum HEAVY “I beggin of you please don’t eat my HAM” and ROWDY with some songs including cleverly juxtaposed words in Paul Kelly’s” From Little Things BIG Things Grow”, a Story about HEAVY and SHAFTED and that eating and drinking cannot make you thinner but ROOTING too much can make your dick RAW.
Seargent SPENCE assumed (or resumed) the position coming between his Camp Buddies SIL and REAR ENTRY and charging them for not using protection. SILIC had something in his throat that made his voice DEEP and Dignified, enough to light Lois’s aural fire, until he coughed.
HEAVY planned to do some simple fare, burgers and mash for Hash, but as ROWDY ‘s run notice email had pumped up the clever clod’s culinary capabilities, he felt compelled to raise the BAR and whip up some home grown, homemade Hash….. Pumpkin Soup, Speck Ham Risotto, and a Quince Crumble for dessert.
We chim chimminied around the fire in the new bulging Chiminea warming our old bulging bellies for a while more.
Next Week’s Run SOS@QUEENSHEADUMFFRAYSTREET