RUN 1691, Venue: Dolly’s Creek Road Morrisons, Hares: Half A Bar & Bar Licker 17 November 2014

The chook run bus collected crowds; the merry Merc met more; the Volvo brought 140 years of experience between the two of the likeable OCs and one much maligned maudlin moe.

It was after 7 when the aptly named Golden Fleece Run took in flocks of fine merino wool and paddocks of historic prospecting pits still full of golden promise.  A cleverly conceived concept I must say, though the trail was a bit straight forward except for the unmarked on-back that gave The Bill and Mounty time together. We went West down Racecourse Track, into Ripper’s paddock and Argent’s Reef and saw some new exposures in the quest for the BIG one.  Quartz, clay, gold coloured stones and lashings of lollies and love.

On through the paddocks to the Remembrance Day Tribute to fallen Ballarat Hashers and the recitation of Rowdy’s Remembrance Rhyme for Midnight, Russell up the Publican, Ah So, and Half a Bra at her resting place.  A Down-Down for the fallen, Half a minutes silence then ON Home deep in contemplation and thoughts of happy hash times we’ve had.

Welcomes Backs to both Silic and Hunt who made a spectacular reEntryAgain in the mini mafia merc.  Approaching significance in an ongoing crescendo drum roll of down-downs, Mounty 998 and Rowdy 999, (jawohl jawohl jawohl) were joined by Poo Boo Kay (French for Pus Bucket) who is also on the Cluster Fuck 1000 to do list.

Mastabait had a pretty number in 1177 and Bad Hair Day had something between two fat ladies in 898.

After taking these pricks away, Half a Bar announced the trial implementation of a Belgian Hash institution where interjectors and incessant banterers were slugged with a shot of Belgique Spirite, rocket fuel!

Immediately, repeat offenders offended repeatedly. Silic suffered several but was getting a taste for it.  Rear Entry cried “Driver” as did Dumb who continued to chat away, to himself mainly.

Mine Hosts, conjoined twins Half a Bar Liquor were up for a screw, Heavy, by Proxy through his Bro, didn’t have to change many words to set the scene with The Bill and Boyd oldie, Put another Log on the Fire.

Sherrie, put another log on the fire.
Cook me up some kosher bacon and some beans.
And go out and herd the sheep in for shearing.
Wash my socks and sew my old blue jeans.
Come on, baby, you can pour my cheap wine and then go fetch my slippers.
And boil me up another pot of tea.
Then put another log on the fire, babe,
And come and tell me why you're marrying me.

Now don't I let you wash the ute on Sunday?
Don't I warn you when you're getting fat?
Ain't I a-gonna take you crutching with me someday?
Well, a man can't love a woman more than that!

 

Sergeant Spencer Hocking Normally attacks tall trees but ripped into Rear Entry, the rabid rabbit was as erratic as ever and at it again running rampant at the bbq while Silic was going Nuts with the Schnapps. The Char grilled Steak overtook the snags and 10 experts were required to volunteer advice.

Run number 1691 was overlooked as an upside down palindrome or something.  One likes ones 69 between ones.  A very nice number1691, like 1961 was a very good year.

Some people still read the weekend Courier and saw snaps of Shafted and a scrubber celebrating the racing industry with another Committee while Half a Bar featured in the Woolgrowers Weekly, for his fine efforts.

Mrs Dickhead, while bending over to pat the dog was surprised by a big licking on her lips…of her mouth, same spot that a Newington mut had mauled earlier in the year. A dodgy doggy pattern is developing.

Fluid Movement, served as Grog Master in socks only. i.e. no Joggers due to an unforseen oversight.

Dr Rowdy was charged for failing to curb the spread of whooping cough, Ebola and women’s legs.  Lois Lane,(2 out of 3), and Bad Hair Day were selected to model the new face masks, designed to catch the errant infected phlegm before it is ingested by others.

As a mark of respect, Lois chose to wear hears as a little skull cap. A kippah or yarmulke, the Goldspeilvogelsteins were suitably impressed.

Before adjourning to the dining trough, Plucka Duck was decreed Town Crier. (“I haven’t got a loud voice”. Pardon? “I haven’t got a loud voice”. Pardon? “I haven’t got a loud voice”. Pardon?)  She delivered the Hash Wide rhymed invitation to the Wedding of The Year when Half a Bar and Bar Licker become one in a matrimonial sense. Same Bat Time Same Bat Place, 24 January 2015. A week before Lois’s 50^th?give (or take) a decade.

A feast ensued, with plenty of fluffy white bread and salads to have with the char-grilled Greene Grub. Nothing a good splash of sauce and a few more beers couldn’t fix.

Next Week’s Run: Devils Kitchen & Happy Valley Hall Hare;  Shafted Theme; Weekend Extravaganza, Cluster Fuck 1000