The Stag and Hounds has a very small car park, but as luck would have it there is a council car park nearby, so most of the hashers met up here. As I arrived, I noticed Ade studying the sign displaying the charges. It seems that parking used to be free after 18:30 hours, but this has now changed until after 20:00 hours. This meant that many of us were debating over whether we should pay the 50p fee required or run the risk for the 15 minutes remaining.
We eventually wandered over to the pub, to be met by our hare, Hawkeye, who explained that the long was 5½ miles and the short was 3½ miles, or at least something like that. There were two virgins this week, Rob and Phil, who were both from Stoke Poges (how posh) and they both had lovely clean shoes, for now.
Now don't call me bitter and twisted [You're bitter and twisted - Ed.] but I immediately noticed that there were considerably more runners out tonight than last week. I was then on a mission to find out where everybody was last week and why they did not attend my hash.
The excuses came thick and fast:
Oh sorry, I had to work.
Oh Kev, I didn't realise it was your hash, had I known I would definitely had made it.
I got home and started drinking, so that was that.
I was visiting my mother in Norfolk.
I had just got back from France.
It was too far for me.
I was at the cinema.
And even some said they were skiing.
Now I know we had a bit of snow the week before last but come on, at least come up with something plausible, please! I will not divulge names, but you know who you are!
I think it was at this point that Hawkeye let on that the pub no longer served food, so there would not be any chips after the run. This was met with much grumbling, but then someone spotted the chippy just a few doors down so perhaps this could be a backup plan.
So a bit about the actual run - we headed north and then west towards the Beeches. We were soon at the long/short split and then the longs continued in a northerly direction towards Egypt.
Interlude: A riddle heard on the hash -
If you feed me I live,
If you water me I die
What am I?
There was much shiggy as we jogged through more wooded areas. Then across the main road and down the lane towards Hedgerley. There was more shiggy and at one point we followed the trail through an area marked private property, which was a little disconcerting, but it was Haweye's hash so he probably hadn't seen the signs!
Before too long it seemed we returned to civilisation and we had returned from whence we came.
Upon our return, I discovered the joyous news that Man United had lost and even better the Superhoops had defeated the mighty Villa 3 - 1 no less. Believe me the latter was quite a shock and at least two of the hash, me included, were delighted.
More joy was had as to our surprise chips appeared from the kitchen and to cap it all it was Tosca night. The award went to Sarah for hashing literally hours after giving birth!
Thanks Hawkeye for a great and very populous hash with chips.
In memory of Sir Ken Dodd -
I’ve seen a topless lady ventriloquist. Nobody has ever seen her lips move.
I haven’t spoken to my mother-in-law for 18 months. I don’t like to interrupt her.
Tonight when you get home, put a handful of ice cubes down your wife’s nightie and say: ‘There’s the chest freezer you always wanted’.
I used to think I was marvellous in bed until I discovered that all my girlfriends suffered from asthma.
I told the Inland Revenue I didn’t owe them a penny because I lived near the seaside.