5 May Leslies Bar - Run write up
Our new virgin Susan frae Fife who would it
appears has not seen a hill as big as Arthur's Booty before wailed to Postman
Pat "I hope we aren't going up that!" to which the venerable one replied "nah
it's not cold or wet enough" and so it proved we just got to go up a small calf
muscle of Arthur's before we were heading back down to tarmac and then
Duddingston Loch. The descent down to the Loch with P.E.R.C.Y, Hairspray,
Ayatollah Ken and myself was entertaining as P.E.R.C.Y, pointed out it was
obvious we were all in need of new shoes as we slipped and slithered are way
down the percipetous drop!
Once down by the Loch I followed Badger Tadger's example and gave a wide birth to large group of adult and junior swans who didn't look like they took kindly to hashers running through their and it must be said rather squalid patch. The trail then went past the Sheep's Heid and off down a wee narrow road after which I was starting to loose my bearings until I recognised a street leading to Portobello, Portobello what the feck are we doing in Portobello!!!!! Och but the Hare Grewsome was just joshing us, the real trail was headed for Gilmerton bloody hell Gilmerton with frantic glances at watches and cries of "oh feck we're still going away from the pub", I spotted a number of hashers Squatter Spotter etal you know who you are heading in a sensible pub like direction.... we ran on through a rather pleasant bit of woodland / grassland that I hadn't been through before and met up with Hairspray and Taxidermist coming from a different direction.
...Once in the pub it would appear that usual Hash intellect was at play, as the entire hash was squeezed into the smallest part of what is a small pub with the biggest bar in Edinburgh, obviously designed by a Barman who doesn't like having to work hard serving large numbers of customers!... So well done to the Pub and DM Stewart (whoever he is see below) and the Hares Grewsome, Gin Bin and Scotch Mist for an excellent run and for arranging much better weather than I did on mine!
...The RA Corny Linguist then gave a beer to my brain aka Cuprice, who having just completed a First Aid course earlier that afternoon choose and I hasten to add I hope any Hasher worth his or her salt would have done the same, to save a full pint of beer from certain spillage caused by a drunk failing to maintain equilibrium and head butting the table and then finally the floor.
...Next up was Monsoon Drain acting as stand in for Aberdeen Anguish but at this point Corny's notes are a bit to cryptic and I can't remember wot he said, so it couldn't have been that funny and therefore not worth writing about I say might have had something to do with the sorce of the free T shirts but I could be wrong I usually am.
The Mystery Whip was Flying Dutchman who snitched on Taxidermist for carrying so much equipment including two week old mouldy sandwiches from the Great Glen Way Trip two weeks earlier in his rucksack that it could have been mistaken for a girlies, while doing the toughest hill run race in Scotland!... Errr I better go wash my mouth out as I said race ohh dam I said it again arrrrgh run away oh feck that sounds a bit athletic too, oh holy crap I've said another rude word "athletic" ohh bugger there I go again I better stop and drink some more beer.
Once down by the Loch I followed Badger Tadger's example and gave a wide birth to large group of adult and junior swans who didn't look like they took kindly to hashers running through their and it must be said rather squalid patch. The trail then went past the Sheep's Heid and off down a wee narrow road after which I was starting to loose my bearings until I recognised a street leading to Portobello, Portobello what the feck are we doing in Portobello!!!!! Och but the Hare Grewsome was just joshing us, the real trail was headed for Gilmerton bloody hell Gilmerton with frantic glances at watches and cries of "oh feck we're still going away from the pub", I spotted a number of hashers Squatter Spotter etal you know who you are heading in a sensible pub like direction.... we ran on through a rather pleasant bit of woodland / grassland that I hadn't been through before and met up with Hairspray and Taxidermist coming from a different direction.
...Once in the pub it would appear that usual Hash intellect was at play, as the entire hash was squeezed into the smallest part of what is a small pub with the biggest bar in Edinburgh, obviously designed by a Barman who doesn't like having to work hard serving large numbers of customers!... So well done to the Pub and DM Stewart (whoever he is see below) and the Hares Grewsome, Gin Bin and Scotch Mist for an excellent run and for arranging much better weather than I did on mine!
...The RA Corny Linguist then gave a beer to my brain aka Cuprice, who having just completed a First Aid course earlier that afternoon choose and I hasten to add I hope any Hasher worth his or her salt would have done the same, to save a full pint of beer from certain spillage caused by a drunk failing to maintain equilibrium and head butting the table and then finally the floor.
...Next up was Monsoon Drain acting as stand in for Aberdeen Anguish but at this point Corny's notes are a bit to cryptic and I can't remember wot he said, so it couldn't have been that funny and therefore not worth writing about I say might have had something to do with the sorce of the free T shirts but I could be wrong I usually am.
The Mystery Whip was Flying Dutchman who snitched on Taxidermist for carrying so much equipment including two week old mouldy sandwiches from the Great Glen Way Trip two weeks earlier in his rucksack that it could have been mistaken for a girlies, while doing the toughest hill run race in Scotland!... Errr I better go wash my mouth out as I said race ohh dam I said it again arrrrgh run away oh feck that sounds a bit athletic too, oh holy crap I've said another rude word "athletic" ohh bugger there I go again I better stop and drink some more beer.
5 May Leslies Bar
Hares Grewsome, Scotch Mist and Gin Bin
Scribe Fuzzy Wuzzy
I was a wee bit late getting to the hash due to leaving my running shoes in the wrong building and also in the wrong bit of town. On the plus side I managed to bump into the pack just at the second check thereby shortening a run that was apparently set by some Kenyan runner warming up for the New York marathon.
After a bit of faffing around looking for flour in the Meadows we headed off in the direction Arthur's Seat mmmm great cue impersanations of mountain goats. Our new virgin Susan frae Fife who would it appears has not seen a hill as big as Arthur's Booty before wailed to Postman Pat "I hope we aren't going up that!" to which the venerable one replied "nah it's not cold or wet enough" and so it proved we just got to go up a small calf muscle of Arthur's before we were heading back down to tarmac and then Duddingston Loch. The descent down to the Loch with P.E.R.C.Y, Hairspray, Ayatollah Ken and myself was entertaining as P.E.R.C.Y, pointed out it was obvious we were all in need of new shoes as we slipped and slithered are way down the percipetous drop! Mind you P.E.R.C.Y didn't have to worry as he was at the back, so if he did fall he would have something soft to land on.
Once down by the Loch I followed Badger Tadger's example and gave a wide birth to large group of adult and junior swans who didn't look like they took kindly to hashers running through their and it must be said rather squalid patch. The trail then went past the Sheep's Heid and off down a wee narrow road after which I was starting to loose my bearings until I recognised a street leading to Portobello, Portobello what the feck are we doing in Portobello!!!!! Och but the Hare Grewsome was just joshing us, the real trail was headed for Gilmerton bloody hell Gilmerton with frantic glances at watches and cries of "oh feck we're still going away from the pub", I spotted a number of hashers Squatter Spotter etal you know who you are heading in a sensible pub like direction. Whereas stupid FRB that I am ploughed on regardless with the soon to be named Rusty Tit (excellent name that I wonder what wonderful hasher kept shouting that out mmmm?) we ran on through a rather pleasant bit of woodland / grassland that I hadn't been through before and met up with Hairspray and Taxidermist coming from a different direction. Ho hum these things happen on a hash I can only put it down to my hashing nose for a shortcut that we landed up in front of the tabbing Taxidermist (no he wasn't having a fag it's a military term ask Taxi he'll tell ya) and yomping Hairspray. The trail then led up the Dalkeith Road with a few wee loops eventually leading us back to the pub.
Once in the pub it would appear that usual Hash intellect was at play, as the entire hash was squeezed into the smallest part of what is a small pub with the biggest bar in Edinburgh, obviously designed by a Barman who doesn't like having to work hard serving large numbers of customers! The beer btw was excellent (as was the grub) and sadly I ran out of funds before I could try them all. So well done to the Pub and DM Stewart (whoever he is see below) and the Hares Grewsome, Gin Bin and Scotch Mist for an excellent run and for arranging much better weather than I did on mine!
The esteemed Gm Mint Sauce (to cries of resign etc) then regaled us with tales of woe and terrible foreboding at the prospect of there not being a GM for the new committee. Mad Duster at this point seemed to volunteer herself for the post but then seemed to come over all shy, which is not the Mad Duster I know. So to cries of Val for GM the current GM dished out beer to Susan the virgin and the Hares.
The RA Corny Linguist then gave a beer to my brain aka Cuprice, who having just completed a First Aid course earlier that afternoon choose and I hasten to add I hope any Hasher worth his or her salt would have done the same, to save a full pint of beer from certain spillage caused by a drunk failing to maintain equilibrium and head butting the table and then finally the floor. Cuprice's bedside manner kicked in at this point (kick is the operative word here) now there's something you don't want to be on the wrong end of!!
Next up was Monsoon Drain acting as stand in for Aberdeen Anguish but at this point Corny's notes are a bit to cryptic and I can't remember wot he said, so it couldn't have been that funny and therefore not worth writing about I say might have had something to do with the sorce of the free T shirts but I could be wrong I usually am.
Finally Corny then went on to explain that theyoung blonde Adonis that is Ross had recently completed an awful amount of running, swimming, canoeing and gawd knows what else to raise money for Maggie's Centres <http://www.maggiescentres.org/> so Corny mused for awhile as he does about some awful acronym tenuously connected with his Dad Hairspray and some other rubbish but while he wittered on the phrase Rusty Tit came up to which thankfully the Hash latched onto and so he was duly named Rusty Tit
The Mystery Whip was Flying Dutchman who snitched on Taxidermist for carrying so much equipment including two week old mouldy sandwiches from the Great Glen Way Trip two weeks earlier in his rucksack that it could have been mistaken for a girlies, while doing the toughest hill run race in Scotland! On the plus side it slowed him down so much that he stayed with Flying Dutchman to the end of the race. Errr I better go wash my mouth out as I said race ohh dam I said it again arrrrgh run away oh feck that sounds a bit athletic too, oh holy crap I've said another rude word "athletic" ohh bugger there I go again I better stop and drink some more beer.
On On
Fuzzy
ps. Val for GM if not President (she can't be any worse than Dubya)
Hares Grewsome, Scotch Mist and Gin Bin
Scribe Fuzzy Wuzzy
I was a wee bit late getting to the hash due to leaving my running shoes in the wrong building and also in the wrong bit of town. On the plus side I managed to bump into the pack just at the second check thereby shortening a run that was apparently set by some Kenyan runner warming up for the New York marathon.
After a bit of faffing around looking for flour in the Meadows we headed off in the direction Arthur's Seat mmmm great cue impersanations of mountain goats. Our new virgin Susan frae Fife who would it appears has not seen a hill as big as Arthur's Booty before wailed to Postman Pat "I hope we aren't going up that!" to which the venerable one replied "nah it's not cold or wet enough" and so it proved we just got to go up a small calf muscle of Arthur's before we were heading back down to tarmac and then Duddingston Loch. The descent down to the Loch with P.E.R.C.Y, Hairspray, Ayatollah Ken and myself was entertaining as P.E.R.C.Y, pointed out it was obvious we were all in need of new shoes as we slipped and slithered are way down the percipetous drop! Mind you P.E.R.C.Y didn't have to worry as he was at the back, so if he did fall he would have something soft to land on.
Once down by the Loch I followed Badger Tadger's example and gave a wide birth to large group of adult and junior swans who didn't look like they took kindly to hashers running through their and it must be said rather squalid patch. The trail then went past the Sheep's Heid and off down a wee narrow road after which I was starting to loose my bearings until I recognised a street leading to Portobello, Portobello what the feck are we doing in Portobello!!!!! Och but the Hare Grewsome was just joshing us, the real trail was headed for Gilmerton bloody hell Gilmerton with frantic glances at watches and cries of "oh feck we're still going away from the pub", I spotted a number of hashers Squatter Spotter etal you know who you are heading in a sensible pub like direction. Whereas stupid FRB that I am ploughed on regardless with the soon to be named Rusty Tit (excellent name that I wonder what wonderful hasher kept shouting that out mmmm?) we ran on through a rather pleasant bit of woodland / grassland that I hadn't been through before and met up with Hairspray and Taxidermist coming from a different direction. Ho hum these things happen on a hash I can only put it down to my hashing nose for a shortcut that we landed up in front of the tabbing Taxidermist (no he wasn't having a fag it's a military term ask Taxi he'll tell ya) and yomping Hairspray. The trail then led up the Dalkeith Road with a few wee loops eventually leading us back to the pub.
Once in the pub it would appear that usual Hash intellect was at play, as the entire hash was squeezed into the smallest part of what is a small pub with the biggest bar in Edinburgh, obviously designed by a Barman who doesn't like having to work hard serving large numbers of customers! The beer btw was excellent (as was the grub) and sadly I ran out of funds before I could try them all. So well done to the Pub and DM Stewart (whoever he is see below) and the Hares Grewsome, Gin Bin and Scotch Mist for an excellent run and for arranging much better weather than I did on mine!
The esteemed Gm Mint Sauce (to cries of resign etc) then regaled us with tales of woe and terrible foreboding at the prospect of there not being a GM for the new committee. Mad Duster at this point seemed to volunteer herself for the post but then seemed to come over all shy, which is not the Mad Duster I know. So to cries of Val for GM the current GM dished out beer to Susan the virgin and the Hares.
The RA Corny Linguist then gave a beer to my brain aka Cuprice, who having just completed a First Aid course earlier that afternoon choose and I hasten to add I hope any Hasher worth his or her salt would have done the same, to save a full pint of beer from certain spillage caused by a drunk failing to maintain equilibrium and head butting the table and then finally the floor. Cuprice's bedside manner kicked in at this point (kick is the operative word here) now there's something you don't want to be on the wrong end of!!
Next up was Monsoon Drain acting as stand in for Aberdeen Anguish but at this point Corny's notes are a bit to cryptic and I can't remember wot he said, so it couldn't have been that funny and therefore not worth writing about I say might have had something to do with the sorce of the free T shirts but I could be wrong I usually am.
Finally Corny then went on to explain that theyoung blonde Adonis that is Ross had recently completed an awful amount of running, swimming, canoeing and gawd knows what else to raise money for Maggie's Centres <http://www.maggiescentres.org/> so Corny mused for awhile as he does about some awful acronym tenuously connected with his Dad Hairspray and some other rubbish but while he wittered on the phrase Rusty Tit came up to which thankfully the Hash latched onto and so he was duly named Rusty Tit
The Mystery Whip was Flying Dutchman who snitched on Taxidermist for carrying so much equipment including two week old mouldy sandwiches from the Great Glen Way Trip two weeks earlier in his rucksack that it could have been mistaken for a girlies, while doing the toughest hill run race in Scotland! On the plus side it slowed him down so much that he stayed with Flying Dutchman to the end of the race. Errr I better go wash my mouth out as I said race ohh dam I said it again arrrrgh run away oh feck that sounds a bit athletic too, oh holy crap I've said another rude word "athletic" ohh bugger there I go again I better stop and drink some more beer.
On On
Fuzzy
ps. Val for GM if not President (she can't be any worse than Dubya)
Posted: Fri - May 7, 2004 at 01:52 PM
Quick Links
Calendar
| Sun | Mon | Tue | Wed | Thu | Fri | Sat |
Categories
Archives
XML/RSS Feed
More Fuzziness
Statistics
Total entries in this blog:
Total entries in this category:
Published On: Jan 19, 2006 02:04 PM
Total entries in this category:
Published On: Jan 19, 2006 02:04 PM