Run 168 – The MJH3 True Mountain Hash
It’s said when God created man he was looking for a template to create woman, that done He considered his work done. Man then took woman and created more men and the odd woman. The Hash then took men and looked for odd women. Today’s Hash following in this noble traditions had ten hashers running after one odd woman. Just going to show that one woman can take ten men. Now we have got the PC crap out of the way it’s safe to say that out of a combined turnout of 37 Cambridge, Hastings, Truro and Indalo hash house harriers only a third were brave enough to take on what will henceforth be known as the MJH3 True Mountain Hash.
Starting off at an altitude equivalent to that of the peak of Snowdon we went up and up and up, so high in fact that had it not been for the clouds below us we could have seen the snow capped peaks of the Sierra Nevada some 200km distant , only coming down some two hours later to find that the other two thirds of the hash having meandered around the gentle slopes and pine forests surrounding Oria, a pretty little pueblo in the heart of Almeria little used to the raucous activities and drunken debauchery of what is commonly known as H3 had begun to consume the refreshments normally reserved for the well deserving runners.
Fortunately the virgin beer miesters Petal and Dyspraxia had the foresight to ensure that enough cold stuff was kept back to satiate those worthy runners. As ever this was a well organised hash, the absence of both RA and GM meant that we had to make do with the “hasbeen and wouldes”. That said the RA’ s both past and present performed admirably enjoying the unexpected limelight, they thought would probably never happen again.
The circle under the due direction of said RA’s started in the gutter and remained there until Papparatzi managed to get off her knees, a position she has maintained since her marriage to El Rave last August. ( It should be noted here that she no longer runs and he can’t). Thus proving that marriage is an unholy alliance promoted by the original WWW ( women, walkers and wankers). I’m digressing or in hash parlance off trail, something which Pedro has video evidence of. It’s not often that one man ( I use the term loosely) can give so much head to so many without a recharge.
Our haberdasher excelled himself in off loading more IH3 junk , sorry hash regalia, even managing to sell an Irma Ogden head scarf to El Rave. A word of caution here to those that think haberdasher is an easy position. It is not something that can be taken lightly and requires minutes of training to acquire the skills necessary to recognise items that are both useless and expensive and then offload them as items that are not only fashionable good value but also functional. A point demonstrated byVadiLostCock, who in his attempt to cut out the middle man has ended up with a T shirt of the wrong colour and only half his name. He has indeed now lost his Cock. Others be warned Puff has the franchise if not the training.
These ramblings are the result of the writer forgetting in his wisdom to nominate a scribe to record in the most intimate detail the proceedings that are the result of our illustrious hare and architect of today’s hash trails. The bionic Mr Norman Bates and his unworthy apprentice KeyFOB.
For those that I have omitted to mention it has everything to do with my memory and the amount of alcohol I consumed. Be assured I will remember even less tomorrow.
OnOn
KeyFOB
