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 HASH MAG ARCHIVE 1993: RUN NO.507 Run Date: 5 July 1993 Toxic Waste And A Load Of Bollocks Zippy isn't very good at winning races, but you can depend on him to come second; something he did once again at the Princetown race (The Dartmoor Challenge) last Saturday in some ridiculously short time. He couldn't keep this up on Sunday at the Devon Relays Orienteering event where he was beaten by Cream Soda by SEVEN minutes. However, it was only his third ever course, and he did fine on his other run bringing the Drake team in fifth. Incidentally, Cream Soda is sixty tomorrow so HAPPY BIRTHDAY BILL!!!! Endosperm and HT2 couldn't orienteer on Sunday because they were at a wedding in matching dinner jackets, each with one red and one green sock. Deadly was risking life and limb watching the French Grand Prix at a family occasion. Anyway, on to the Hash. Limpalong had apparently boasted that we would go to a part of Burrator that we had never visited before. Since for many people the only area this applied to was Burrator village itself we looked forward to the hash with interest. In the end we went into the woods between the road and the lake with its intricate path network, perfect for hashing. Snakehips, who had been out cheating that afternoon showed anyone who wanted them some cunning shortcuts and Deadly found his own. Have you ever noticed that the more Deadly shortcuts the louder he whinges about other people shortcutting? More energy left I suppose! As the trail went up to the woods over the road I swear I heard Norman asking Mudflaps to watch his nadgers as they climbed a fence. We then followed the leat. That horrible dog, Ben, jumped into the leat and ran up it trying to catch Yakidah, who it thought was in front. Stupid Mutt! Yakidah did the same to overtake some hashers and to try to catch up Ben, who she thought was in front. In the end we all had to put up with the disgusting wet hound squeezing past our legs on narrow paths for the rest of the hash. Back at the cars there was a double quick rush to get changed and to get to the pub, not just to be first , but to avoid all the midges. It's that time of year again when thousands of the things land on sweaty hashers as they expose(!) themselves while changing. They take their fill of your blood leaving all their germs and excrement in return and mildly irritate you for about a week (and that's just the hares - the midges are even worse!). By the way, do any of you listen to the John Peel show on the radio on Friday and Saturday night? It's on as I'm writing this and is really very good. Not very relevant to Monday night though, I'm afraid. Anyway, after a really good, fast run we went back to the Rock Inn, where Maximouse was having a good whinge. First he was whingeing about how every time he comes home from University for two hashes he has to help to lay one of them. Then he was whinging about how crap the beer tastes in the South compared to up North. I was so engrossed in listening him that I completely missed the story of Slo-Jo and Algie's sausage which sounds intriguing. Limpalong came and told me that Jenny was complaining about her hash name 'Vinegar'. I don't see what can possibly be wrong with this harmless substance. Anyway, you're not supposed to like you hash name. Just be thankful your not called Yokelbonker! Why not rename her 'Toxic Waste' which at least gives her something reasonable to whinge about? On the subject of hash names: Isn't Minimouse now taller than Maximouse? Hmmm. I'm afraid I can't remember anymore so I'll have to pad the rest out with a load of bollocks: Bollocks, Bollocks,
Bollocks, Bollocks, Bollocks, Bollocks, Bollocks, Bollocks, Bollocks,
Bollocks, Bollocks, Bollocks, Bollocks, Bollocks, Bollocks, Bollocks,
Bollocks, Bollocks, Bollocks, Bollocks, Bollocks, Bollocks, Bollocks,
Bollocks,
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