WOW! The Civic
Hall! A yellow brick monument of 1960s
architecture. We and a few others saw
ACDC launch on their trajectory to fame and glory. After locking the locals out
the Civic Hall has in recent years become an icon of council indecision and
their incapacity to manage much more than another roundabout.
Instead of the welcoming hot soup in Mair Street, Glider
recommended the all-weather underground car park out the back. He supplied civic infrastructure consisting
of a fold out table out the back of his Volvo Hatch.
Some of our number were willing to sacrifice their exercise
time and were sending off a barman buddy, Max, who has probably poured most of
us an ale or two over the years at the Turf Club, Golf House, and of course at
JDs (often hosting Hash). Bye Max.
A well set little run and walk marked with chook foot flour
headed up to Soldiers Hill and into Ballarat North with cross over trails where
walkers were lured into running a bit and runners languished into walking a
bit. All trails led back through another
underground car park at Bunnings and on to the Drink Stop and warm reception in
the warm reception area of Rutile Glitch.
BAD HAIR DAY (not BENT) had a meritorious palindromic run
mirror imaged in several planes, 818. (aka two fat ladies with only one dil to
do between them).
Another stray screw was required for GLIDER and GILF being
WHISKED away to WOGGA, Her Horny House inHabitant, FLUID MOVEMENT was Heralded.
She was immediately WRITHING and we all started BREATHING HEAVY as we
anticipated another vigorous bodily actioned screw like NUMMY’s BALL ROOM BLITZ
on The BILL last week. It was however,
more like the twisting of Rolf’s daughter’s friend trying to avoid Jake the
Peg’s Extra Leg. She never knew what sexual Harris meant!
So, the path was duly described and GLIDER was nominated for
gentleman of the year and thanked profusely by all for the run and for bringing
the fold-out table from which the Grog Master/Mistress cum Screw would able to serve
copious down downs (but it would never hold 2 bodies or even prop up a little ladies
bod at just the right height).
Unfortunately there was no back to back Christmas Carol and
we had to make do with another parody from Paraburdoo. Heavy re-set the words of UB70’s song, Red Red Wine, going to his head and
tearing him apart and breaking his Vol-vo heart. All this to reflect gorgeous GLIDER’s grape grinding
games and the infinite bottles of Red Nectar he has on hand. Nothing about him
getting a kick out of breeding cattle? The sound engineer had selected an
acoustically comfortable corner of the car park and the throng altho thung enthuthiathtically.
Those involved in the nearby CFA drill were seen swaying to
the musical melody. They wouldn’t leave
until THE BILL turned off his flashing blue light. Apparently flashing in the
library car-park it is inappropriate?
Seargeant SPENCE informed that he is pissing off for a
while. Going off with some happy campers, including MASTABAIT, ROADRUNNER (who
wouldn’t attend another meeting involving the Civic Hall), and the dynamic duo,
SILIC and REAR ENTRY. SPENCE expressed concerns they might come back with one
less. (Too late methinks).
ROWDY submitted a convincing verbal application for the
relief position, announcing like a true MC the arrival of Willoughby Anzac
Reims (WAR) Dumb’s latest grandson out of Jess. Going on with espousing the
taking up of spouses by kid’s of SPENCE and BAIT. Mounty also made application
by warbling in wake affected words something about another relatively new
arrival.
Before we wandered to the Top Eureka for ON AFTERS, FM confessed
she was missing SOS’s Horn and wanted her name emblazoned on it. We are hoping
Little Boy Blue will come blow his Horn at……
Next Week’s Run; CRISS CROSS, who has such a long way to go,
to make it to the Border of Mexico Riding Like the Wind on his new bike. Where? Sounded like Free LBN Street, Golden Point.
See youse there just after Half Sicks.
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