Run 999 Report

LAKESIDE HASH HOUSE HARRIERS HASH TRASH

Run 999 3 September 2003

Colombo’s Pizza, Balwyn

Klingon

The hare took us for a merry little stroll down memory lane in the heights of Balwyn. As Mummies’ Boy pointed out, Klingon has been on a downhill slide ever since, finally bottoming out in St Kilda. My word!

Wanting to avoid embarrassment and any potential depreciation in real estate value, the manager had us shuttled in through the back entrance, past upended crates and garbage bins where the kitchen help squatted smoking fags. Harkening back to our former experience with posh pizza joints, we thought we might be joining them there soon enough.

At precisely 20 minutes past 6:30 we set off on the Klingon Heritage Trail. Sights included the Druidic tree-circle cum Sunday School where Klingon learned his early “religions advisor” rites; the “Cub den” where he gathered with other feral children to worship the Wolf Mother; the church where Klingon’s ex-wife found religion and decided she didn’t want to live with a pagan any more; the hilltop maypole where he learned his morris dancing (off Chaucer Crescent in Canterbury no less); and the dark bushes by the train station where he did things we really don’t to know about.

We passed a couple of his former mansions – Jeff and Kylie nowhere in sight – as well as the Fu Rong Restaurant on Canterbury’s high street. Their short lived competitor, the Not Fu Rong, had unfortunately shut down (wokka wokka wokka)

Only 90 minutes after starting, the pack returned to Colombo’s cold and thirsty, but found the shortcutters and DNRs had thoughtlessly not unloaded the grog for us. Eventually the grog did turn up and then some pizza too. For those of you who might have overlooked it, there was a typo in the run announcement – this was an all you should eat night, everyone getting 3-4 slices for their $12. Klingon forced every pizza from the tightarse manager’s cold, dead fingers. We were lucky to have been fed at all, considering this hash’s luck with pizza restaurants (see Toto and/or Deep Throat for details). In fact, Klingon revealed that the Melbourne Ladies had been turfed out of the very same restaurant not long ago.

Nonetheless the gulls were sated – distractions from the upper gallery didn’t help. A load of drunken ANZ girls in uniform were having a grand old time courtesy of our internet banking fees, teller banking fees, and ATM banking fees.

The GM called the circle, with uneven results. New hashers POG and EBI, BLOODHOUND and MRS. BLOODHOUND were recognised. Pog and Bloodhound can piss off now that they’ve brought these lovely ladies to hash. But seriously – Pog was showing good Lakeside spirit, having already donned the proper gear. Bloodhound had tales of Saigon hashing to recount, but yours truly couldn’t hear over all of the GM’s shouting – acoustics?

The mandatory football related charges were made and all hell broke loose. E&B was charged for falling on her face. Footy tipping winners were announced, with Astro taking the grand prize, 2nd went to Audrey, and wooden spoon to E&B. Kokup and Punch told us how they met – something about her luring him in a darkened garden. BB nicked a book – Sooty’s World Tour – and now Sooty’s off to Kiwiland for a few days.

Udder’s dream team – with able assistance from yours truly not showing up and ruining their chances – took 1st in the MLH3 Trivia. Doctors Toto and Rolf Harris provided a sound foundation of knowledge in historical theory and Days of Our Lives minutae.

Oh yeah. I’m not leaving.. yet. One more for the hash lexicon:

Pulling a Skiddy, v., to say one is leaving then fail to do so (see “Quasimodo” and “TDTD”).

On-On

TDTD

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