Run 911 Report

Once upon a time, long ago, a little girl called Lipstick was born in Essendon. There she lived with all her family. Like all people born in Essendon; they stayed in Essendon. Lipstick always longed to be a great tennis star, and so she spent long hours in dad’s garage, whacking a tennis ball suspended from a piece of string with a cricket stump. Suddenly, during the 1970s, Essendon F.C. went downhill, and like all the other Essendon supporters, Lipstick melted away from Windy Hill. And so it was that she moved away to Brisbane, where she became a local tennis star. Thereupon, Sheedy came to Essendon, and they won a few flags, so naturally Lipstick got on the bandwagon and drifted back to Melbourne. Then, they won in 2000 and were meant to be unbeatable for a decade, and so Lipstick moved right back into Essendon. Here she now lives, in the same suburb with all her brothers and sisters and uncles and aunts, whacking a tennis ball tied to a length of string with a cricket stump in the back of her garage, after the habit of a lifetime. Then Lipstick held Run 911 at her home in Essendon and now all her dreams have come true

Shunt recalled the run with an epic poem. He opined at length to the mystification of the assembled throng about all the streets, shops, parks, gardens and lakes we ran through. Then he scored it 0 + 1. But he failed to recount the erotic drink stop where Lipstick gave us all dildo icy poles to suck. I eventually got the hang of it. I sucked and sucked on mine till all the juice came out one end, and then it went soft. I had two.

E & B welcomed the V &V, who included Syndrome from Qld, Steve from Bristol, Ogla, and Michaela (née Baa-baa-ra). Gerbils then welcomed back herself and Too Dumb To Die, and handed out the usual charges for obscure run numbers. Then she charged E & B for insisting to our very personable young lady virgin, Ogla, that Ogler (her real name) was her Hash name. Unerringly, the presence of a personable young Virgin attracted Tangles to the front of the circle with a swag-full of foul charges at the ready. Determined not to see yet another one fall through the cracks, the pack drowned him out with a volley of loud and idiotic charges. [Memo Tangles: incidentally, did you see that the airline war in Australia is really hotting up. A new company has formed to compete for Virgin Airlines market share. They’re going to call themselves Slut Airlines]. Unbeknown to Tangles, who came late (getting to be quite a worrying habit, so I hear), Egg & Bacon Pie had hatched a scheme to lose him on the run. This backfired badly when she lost herself on the run and returned half an hour late. Or so they say. For mine, E &B’s increasingly frequent off-trail disappearances are no accident. This one occurred after the drinkstop, which was as aforementioned, quite a turn-on, so keep an eye out for her next week.

Shunt was charged by Gerbils for boasting about how he’d run through the pain barrier to get back home, when in fact, the only way he negotiates that particular barrier is to drink his way across it. Furthermore, Mothball noticed Baa-baa-ra, Major Fuck-Up and Michaela eating their way through said pain barrier, on their way home from McDonalds. None of this for Abraham Lincoln, though. He earnestly related how he’d given up the booze, smokes and greasy food for his current health kick, and how he now only eats roots, shoots and leaves (Memo: check this in notes), all the while tightly clutching a VB stubby; this inane boast thus resulting in his having to down a further quantity of ale in quick time.

A couple of crap look-alike charges followed, probably in a vain attempt to keep Tangles quiet. The myopic Wings had Shunt = John Elliot!!! Now, it is a matter of frequent and public record in these pages that Shunt, himself suspiciously a train driver, is a dead ringer for Ronnie Biggs – before the plastic surgery. However, Shunt is forcing his way much too often into these pages for everybody’s comfort, so we shall move onto pony-tailed Steve from Bristol, who streeted the field on the run, shows obvious class on the toes, and was immediately fingered by my good self as our very own smoking, junk-food-eating, rootin’-tootin’ 2000 Olympic long-jump silver medallist: Jai Taurimo.

Inevitably, and even with Tangles by now hogtied and gagged by the ball on the string in the back of the garage, the charges started to slide downscale in taste and ended up plain dirty. Lethal charged Quasimodo for perving on the Welsh fullback’s legs at a rugby international. TDTD noted that Mothball went beyond the pale by inquiring about purchasing the Hash T-shirt that Gerbils happened to be wearing. On being informed that it would set him back $20, he exclaimed, “And does Gerbils come in it as well?” to which the GM quietly but firmly replied that, while Hash understandably involved much harmless ribaldry, perhaps it was going a little too far to delve that far into our Sgt-at-Arms’ personal habits.

This set off a barrage of filth. Downsizing recalled that her Dad, the legendary Italian Stallion Dominic, had just happened to be cruising along a freeway near Chicago with his grandson, when the enraged wife of John Wayne Bobbit flung her husband’s freshly-severed member out of her car while passing in the opposite direction. The bloody, slug-like mess landed smack on Dom’s windscreen. After a few minutes young grandson remarks, “Gee Papa, that’s a big bug on the windscreen!”, to which Dom replies casually, “Yeah, and it’s got a bloody big dick, too!”

No sooner had the raucous laughs, which had been smothering the frantic muffled screams coming from the back of the garage, died down, than Deeper got into the act. Downsizing summarily announced that the run at her place next week (Run 912) would start at 7 pm, and she warned “don’t try to come early or I won’t let you in!”, to which Deeper replied “That’s what my wife says most nights of the week!” [Memo: just realised that 1) any time Downsizing opens her mouth at Hash, she produces unbelievably good copy for the Trash; and 2), Deeper’s inevitable response to any charge whatsoever is “That’s what my wife says most nights of the week!” and 3), that response no. 2 inexorably produces gales of helpless laughter from the pack].

As if all this could be topped, Barterbitch chimed in that Run 913 from her place on Wednesday-week will follow directly on the heels of WSH3’s Tuesday night run, also from her place.

“So…,” she shyly added “…you can come twice; if you like…”

On on , Mummies’ Boy

Run 912 January 16 Downsizing 6 Newhall Avenue, Moonee Ponds

Melway: 28-G7

Run 913 January 23 Highly Infectious 100 Bayview St. Williamstown.

Melway: 55 K9

Run 914 January 30 Kling-on Koomba Park, Wantirna, Melway: 63 C8

(100m along Mountain Hwy after Burwood Rd)

Yellow Gum Park – Melways: 10 G5; Hare: Klingon

From Greensborough take Diamond Creek Road, Yan Yean Road then Memorial Drive

2/2/2; Footscray Secondary College School Camp, 20 Napoleons St, Greendale; about ½-way between Melbourne & Ballarat.  About 5km off the freeway and about 10km the Frankston side of Ballan.) Approx $75. Get in touch with BB.

Great Escape’ 1300th Run, to Old Castlemaine Jail; 9/2/2;

Slumber in the slammer; Dinner –Bed – Breakfast only $90; kids under-14 for $40;

Dancing – music – Giveaway – Sausage sizzle – Recovery run; Ring Anonymouse 972-54296.