Friday, June 27, 2014

RUN 1668 Venue: Battlers Tavern Hare: Rear Entry 23 June 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,


Yes an asshole, such an asshole



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.


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