Oh dear. The RA certainly fixed it for me. Like Jimmy Bleedin’ Savile fixed shit. Soaked thru for 30 mins on the drive in and home, and same same during the run. Nice weather for ducks as my old man would say. And fcuking idiot hashers on motorbikes too!
Arriving just pre-hare brief, I glimpsed Emma Royde’s snazzy ERII checks and heard there was W-R split. Eggelen chimed in both my knees together.
On the way out ShSh, Frozen and self were at the rear again and considering the big questions of the day. Was that gate aluminum or aluminum? Was it painted or anodized? Lucky the rain cooled my fevered brain as ShSh and FD demonstrated how we Brits and Septics are indeed two peoples, separated by a common language.
The rain fell even heavier and we turned off into orchards and then forest. Tiptoe and Rooter were ahead meandering this way and that in search of clear paper and trail.
Finding a damp strip I yelled OnOn! and realized Rooter wasn’t aware of our presence as he breakdanced like 10,000 V had just gone up his leg.
The ground softening, I headed on alone along flooding muddy trails until I got to checks where I checked and returned to the others, sometimes to give them the right info and sometimes not, as returning to a check discombobulated me somewhat. Was it left or the other left? Fcuk, I’m confused!
It really was something, shallow streams flowing along the forest paths and pools forming in dips. Still it hammered down and soon we were returning to the settled area and the A site at the cock ring shelter.
A few sick, lame and idle bastards were already there so we swapped excuses and waited for the pack to return.
ShSh headed off for another loop having told me my knee issues are all to do with wrong shoes and being too heavy for them. Sauce!
The circle was enjoyable with Piggy, Belly and ABB along with HRA the GM entertaining us with their wit, ribaldry and general character assassination. Saying that, I did get a sharp intake of breath when I contrasted clean living, upstanding hasher Pussy Whisperer with Purple Fart, the hasher most likely to breed with another species!
Rather wonderfully Tom Callahan the Co-Hare didn’t know what a brolly was, so eventually we settled on his Hash handle as Mary Poppins, to raucous cheers. Piggy did the honours in style, an MC of some talent, weddings, award nights and circumcisions a speciality I hear.
Great set in a lovely area with a shelter fit for circles – and for cockfighting! Well done Emma and Mary Poppins!
Chim-chimney, chim-chimney, chim chim cheroo…keep your fcuking shorts on next time, Skiddy please do!