Hareline

Upcoming Events

Pania Plodders' 1000th, Napier, 25-28 Oct 2002
Indochina/Mehkong Interhash 2002, Chieng Mai, Thailand, 18-20 Oct 2002
Hash Ball, Irish Society, 10 Fifeshire Ave, Wellington, 9 Nov 2002
NZ Nash Hash 2003, Mt Maunganui, 25-27 Jan 2003
Interhash Africa 2003, Diani Beach, Kenya, 1-4 May 2003
Interhash 2004, Cardiff, Wales, UK, 23-25 Jul 2004 (BASTARDS!)

Run Reports

Run 1410

Sproggy's 3 stop birthday bash

Return to the Wellington Hash's favourite city car park for Sproggy's birthday bash. A bit down on numbers which was slightly pathetic 'cos it was a nice night, central locale, and Bubbles wasn't even the hare. And only K9 and Oggy have phucked orf Goa-bound at this stage.

Bubbles led the pack out on the inevitable climb up to the Terrace. First check didn't stop anyone for long as Capt Cook were on to the trail heading towards Aro st. That stuffed the pack for longer than it should have before TC found the right alley heading Westward along Aro St. Trail hung a left to a few back-alleys and stairs off Durham St emerging eventually on Tanera Park in lower Brooklyn.

A bit of short-cutting along some Capital H3 trail allowed numerous hashers to dodge a devious loop. On down thru the trees to somewhere due South of the tennis centre and the first piss-stop. Any Port in a storm - swiftly despatched and Sproggy as hare directed the pack on up the nearest summit. Some stuffing around looking for trail - the Ayatollah busy misleading the front runners while TC sorted the actual trail heading to someplace just off Washington Ave. 2nd piss-stop - one of those girlie drinks that everyone likes but no-one admits to - Canterbury Cream the scribe suspects. Quickly demolished and the on was called. Some baulked, others barfed at more up, but for the dedicated the trail wound around a few back-streets before emerging in Prince of Wales park - and the beer stop at the Scottish Harriers orifices.

Still a fair drag home from here - Sourpuss set the pace on an erstwhile short cut for home along a gloomy path - took a tumble in the process. 7/10 for the novelty dive and he has been limping about since then. From the third piss-stop no-one was paying a whole lot of attention to the trail - just on straight home.

Back at the on-on, it soon became apparent that Bubbles would have his work cut out get the keg demolished. Sproggy's birthday and sterling haring effort was acknowledged with the Sirloin award. A requiem mass was held for Captain Cook's dearly beloved mutt which regretfully passed away last Wednesday after 27 years on this planet and everyone shared what was clearly an emotional time for Capt Cook. If anyone has an over 20-year old Labrador (continence optional) there is a good home going in Johnsonville!

Bugger if the scribe knew how many bottles of spiritous liquor was doing the rounds, but at least one was presumed to be in honour of Flipper's 800th run! That is a shit-load of runs!

Peeler is off to hosp - so was down-downed 'cos we might not see him for a while - and he actually off-loaded his rego for Goa - tho' he has yet to prise the proceeds off the Ayatollah who intends to drink the phucken lot.

Thru all this merry mayhem, the Hare was dutifully grilling up a heap of dead animal and dogs dicks - great feed. And Highheels put in an appearance - this time, contrary to rumour, he was being brow-beaten by the Gov't and OSH rather than his Missus - but that is a good enough reason to stitch him up anyway.

Armour was duly appointed Ayatollah while the Wellington contingent swan off to the incontinent subcontinent. Scribe vaguely recalls the PoW being presented to Bubbles for whatever misdemenour - no doubt well deserved. Despite Bubbles' best efforts, the keg was nowhere near demolished - polished off in the Woolworths carpark on Tuesday evening after the Gerries run you will no doubt be delighted to know. Thanks to Capt Cook who ensured that most of the keg went down the gullets of WH3 in the end.

The hard core eventually faded leaving a phucken mess in the garage as PorkBox proceeded the wrong way along the nearest one-way street.

Well done hare Sproggy.

On-On and Phuk!

Run 1411

Bridgend's Bacchanalian Birthday Ballsup

On a cool, mostly clear but blustery night, about 20+ hounds set out north along Tinakori Road from the Speights Ale House/Shepherd's Arms or formerly the Western Park. In fact it must be about time to change its name yet again. We were noticeably missing the customary raucous noise and generally irresponsible behaviour of the absent Goa contingent. For the purposes of making the inevitable defamation suits easier to prosecute, these hashmen are, in no particular order (or disorder for that matter): OGGY, BUBBLES, K9, 'AROLD, GOODYEAR and TOWNPLANNER. And, you will recall, definitely not PEELER or BOON although they were both absent too.

The first of only two checks to be actually found, was up the road from the Shamrock corner. The trail resumed on the little footpath up to Hill Street where the trail was suddenly transformed by the use of a much larger dribble-dropper which had been spreading flour as if it was going out of fashion. It would have been visible even for the Blind Hash. (But aren't they all I hear you ask?) Consternation ensued, especially when some funny looking chalk arrows also appeared, suggesting that it might be, no it couldn't be, not two weeks in a row - Capital trail! Or was it that given the wind conditions, BRIDGEND had decided to change to a more diarrhoeic dribble-dropper compared with his rather dinky tight-arsed model - especially as the bigger mark was still in the traditional whhh shape of an 'H' with arrow rather than the funny little 'C' we occasionally enCounter from the other C's.

After we had followed this newly prominent trail down a zigzag and across Bowen Street (just by the motorway overbridge) that well known detective TC observed astutely (for once) that the prominent marks had been actually over-stamped on the small marks we had started out following from the outset. He even found an orphan - like, a little one all on its own. So this was indeed internecine sabotage of the highest order.

This intelligence (if you'll excuse the expression) failed to get through to horn NUMBNUTS who, from a check soon after in the lower Bolton Street cemetery, took off like an FRB with about half the pack in tow, following more C trail down past the Backbencher and the Thistle Inn, with some, SEPTIC TANK and SPROGGY included, getting as far as that gym on Thorndon Quay. What some people will do just to perve at arabesquing aerobic arses! Your scribe somehow also managed to find his way as far as the Thistle and on our way back, a couple of C's by the Backbencher couldn't resist asking us why we had managed to lose our bloody way.

Meanwhile, in losing their bloody way, BIGGLES, MILDEW and PUSSY PUPPY had not followed the horn, but decided instead, that the trail must surely go south back up the Terrace until they had reached Boulcott St with still no success. Somehow PP managed to transmute himself back to the first piss stop later to tell this tale. By this time, the balance of the pack had either disappeared up their own fundamentals or back to the pub.

However, a few of us stalwarts, motivated by rumours of two piss stops and that the run would head for the Bot gardens, had made our way back towards the last check. We were further abetted by SPROGGY, due to his having just happened to find the On Home during his walk from work to the run. He was going to head for the OH (on a path just below the Met Office) and follow the trail backwards from there hence ensuring that he found at least one piss-stop. As events will show, this turned out to be a complete failure - inevitable really, because it was based on logic instead of the usual prejudiced perversities of how true hashmen first figure out and then fuck up what's going on.

Anyway, the (these days) exceptionally fit SPROGGY (what does PORTHOLE do to him - or he do to her?) took off straight up Bolton St on his mission. Somehow, the remaining 8 or so of us, including HIGHEELS, BROKEN ARSE, TC, SEPTIC, RANGOON FLIER AND TEAPOT were diverted half way up the hill by being called (presumably by the hare at first) into Kinross Street and thence to the Seddon memorial on the corner of Anderson Park. Here, the poor patiently perambulating hare had been waiting in vain for about 35 minutes with nothing to play with but himself, hoping to have some hounds emerging in well under 20 minutes from where the real trail would have brought them. What everybody had missed in the confusion at that double marked second check, was a back-check re-start which began on the footbridge across the motorway and up through the Bolton St cemetery to piss-stop number 1. It was here that PUSY PUPPY also soon reappeared.

Buoyed by finally getting some albeit precarious piss-stop patronage, the hare divulged that the run was supposed to go round through the gardens and up to the cable car for a second piss-stop. There must have been something in that piss stop purge which encouraged us to behave even more stupidly than we had already done, because, so close to home and with the short-cutters already back there, we nevertheless decided to carry on. We took a short cut up to pass the On-Home the wrong way, while the hare drove round the road to be only just in time to give the few faithful followers their second piss stop at the cable car. After nearly getting blown away, the persevering paltry pack followed an alternative route to run home down past the playground area, pausing to recall the 007 spectacular sliding performance of yesteryear, and then past the tulip displays which were looking as fresh and healthy as I wasn't at that stage. SEPTIC was last seen making advances to a hedgehog by the duck pond (how did I forget this at POW time??).

The ONON piss was generously subsidised by the birthday celebrating hare so that the tab must have gone well beyond what absentee Hash Cash PISSPOT KEV would normally allow - or did he make a ghost-like brief appearance at some stage? Hashadabra TEAPOT also demonstrated a new initiative with some different socks for sale - or maybe they had also been ordered several years ago.

Acting-Ayatollah ARMADILLO awarded a new boot welcome back to PUHA and gave the Sirloin award to hare BRIDGEND for coping with the Capital C's calumny. HIGHHEELS rewarded horn NUMBNUTS for leading the pack so astray, while, for some reason, EVIL gave himself one (in a manner of speaking, of course). In BUBBLES' absence, A-AA awarded the POW nearly to SPROGGY for failing in his piss stop strategy by missing the first one altogether and then being too early for the second. Instead, he awarded it to HIGHHEELS for beating him to it with NUMBNUTS, not washing the glassware from the previous week and, most of all, in returning to him his hash cap, apparently found near the scene of a recent crime involving the casting of offensive matter. Given its significance on the night, BIGGLES was also awarded a dd (down-down) for being the inventor of the dd (dribble dropper). TC also slightly reversed their old score by giving NNs one to drink through a straw.

There was a pretty good feed for $8 of corned beef, white sauce, properly done mashed potato, onions, carrots etc. although without my glasses on I couldn't quite tell what the etc. was. There were really quite large helpings but they actually looked much smaller through being served on those extra large plates so in vogue these days - they're about the size my old man used to carve the Sunday roast on.

The evening continued with the usual banal bullshit conversations plus the frequent distraction on the big screen of watching the rather futile falling of Bangladeshi wickets to flatter the otherwise crapped out Blackcap bowlers' reputations. This rather civilised atmosphere, no doubt again due to the Goa absentees, could almost mean that the Speights Ale House/Shepherd's Arms will actually have us back again - at least that's how it was when your scribe left.

ONON

ARMADILLO

Footnote:

Some advice to SEPTIC which I recall singing many years ago as some of many verses to the tune of the Eton Boating Song (Chorus was: We're all queers together....Pardon me while I go upstairs.)

Most painful research and endeavour
By Darwin and Huxley and Ball,
Have conclusively proved that the hedgehog
Cannot be buggered at all.

And further experimentation
Has incontrovertibly shown
That comparative safety on ship-board
Is enjoyed by the hedgehog alone!