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DHAKA
MIXED HASH – RUN NO 1394 |
13th
March 2008 |
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GREEN
DRESS RUN |
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Sober-ish at the
Start |
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Hares: Webfart, Pubic Hare |
Hashers: 40 |
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Virgins: none |
New
Runners: none |
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Leavers: none |
Returnees: none |
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Webfart tries to
hoover 45 bloodies in one go |
The Run If
this account is demonstrably inaccurate I refuse to take any of the
blame. We had drinks poured down us
at the start, more on the way round and even more at our final resting place
of the Bagha, so recollections are a tad obscure. Let me start with what can be remembered of the run. If I had the 170 photographs that Warm
& Fluffy claims to have taken on the night (what the fuck was she doing
that for instead of getting stuck into the piss like the rest of us?) then I
might have something to jog the memory, but she has yet to work out how to
transmit them. So here goes – I’ll
just have to wing it. We
started at Webfart’s – this much is clear in my mind. It began with a drink and a song both
provided by Webfart. For the record
the drinks were Bloody Marys and the song, “So Ashamed”. From this point on I’m guessing, but I
think the first check was in the Park (NO BEER) and then on to the Ladies
Park (also NO BEER), through there and out to a third check outside Bozo’s
old place (no friggin’ BEER). Next
check was the new gate into the Baridhara Park (still no friggin’ BEER). I’ll not mention that Can’t Pull was
totally unaware of this inspiring edifice despite passing it twice daily. There was paper on the trail, but the
Hares were at least telling us where the next check was as well, which became
more helpful once it got dark. We
ran a bit up the lakeside towards the next alleged check, but then everyone
rebelled as they knew the one after was going to be at Cloth Balls’ place so
didn’t go too far past Road 7. At
last, the next check was a refreshment stop, but not before we’d climbed the
necessary six flights of stairs to reach it.
However, STILL NO FRIGGIN’ BEER!
Instead there was some poofter concoction of vodka and cranberry
juice. A prolonged chorus of “That
was a Terrible Song” allowed Bozo just enough time to nip home and change
into shorts (why, when this was the green dress run?), but we had
to suffer some fuckin’ awful verses from Foreskin. Relief
beyond belief greeted us at the next check at the Canadian Club. Contradictory to their name they provided
us with BEER. At last, some BEER –
thank fuck for a Canuck. At this
point I have to drop all pretence of artistic bent and admit that I know we
sang songs at every check hereafter but have no idea which ones. Geli’s place followed soon after, with
great snacks and more soft drinks (thanks Roxy) and from here it was almost
every man for |
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What’s wrong with Aussie immigration policy? |
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Alouette &
Friend |
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Singers
and posers |
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himself
as the Hares forgot to tell us where the next checks were, other than the
immediate one of Dhali Supermarket.
As we passed through the shop, Tuneless Cow was overheard to say “this
is a little bizarre”. Thanks to
Foreskin for the anecdote, and amazing that he can remember that far into the
run. After
this we were expected to find our way up to the Aussie Club, where we sang
“Bestiality’s Great, Mate” (at least those are the words I know) and Jumpy
Bumpy guested as “Alouette”, with assistance from Webfart. From here it was a straight walk down
Gulshan Avenue to our final resting place at the Bagha. If
you think there will follow a detailed account of the circle here, then
you’re greatly mistaken. There was
ICE, there was BEER and there were no virgins, new runners or visitors (or if
there were, there shouldn’t have been).
Bozo got into his act with the assistance of a block of ice and ranted
away as usual. It
was a great night, so I hear, but much of the detail eludes me. Josh and Subuhi had to be separated with
crowbars; Josh’s cop-out dad had to spend some time on ice for a non-show as
a Hare (freezing his arse was possibly the best thing, given his condition);
some soft twat had a wrong Tee-shirt on which, to everyone’s disgust, Geli
anointed. The barbie was excellent
and I reckon that my Bagha bill will be a major contribution to the ongoing
US-inspired credit crisis. If
you weren’t there you missed a great evening. Next year Sucker promises to get the dresses the right length. Oh,
and somewhere along the way, shit-faced Josh was named “Who the Fuck is
Alice”. Don’t ask me why, but quite
clearly we now need to ask “who the fuck is Alice’s Dad?” On On Towed |
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