RIVIERA HASH TRASH 690
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No 2 - Farty Bum
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Some Pics from CumCum's hash on 15th January 2012
It was on the 29th of January two thousand and twelve,
That Prestressed and Padre had determined to delve
Into the hidden paths of Varish Montaroux
And search for mythical beasts such as haggis and kangaroo.
Flour had been laid to show the foregathered members of the Riviera hash
Where to see the building sites and the uphill and downhill ways with many a splash
In streams and puddles left by the precipitation that had not turned to snow
As the weather had decided that it was time to put an end to unseasonal sunny glow
That had given the region such a fine start to the new year
The Chinese year of the dragon may give us much to fear.
Those walkers who strayed from the trail and got themselves lost
Caused much delay to the start of the circle lead by Dark and Moist
The kangaroo held its court and sinners were unmasked
And punished with sconces of traditional beverages as they asked
Preceded by a little entertainment or play
We were fed by our good hostess with the name of Skinny A
Who had been cooking a sumptuous repast of soup, simple vegetables and Scottish meats
Cheese and many fine desserts and sweets
A poem was read by a Lowland scribbler called Burns
Recited in Scottish and English versions in turns
Which hardly compares with the magnificent 'Ode to the Scottish Deep Fried Mars Bar'
By your laureate bard
William 'Farty Bum' McGonagall
HAGGIS RUN & KANGAROO COURT
And it came to pass that in the winter of the year the earth did not cool and the sun shone forth brilliantly day after day, and the people thanked the Lord for this unseasonable warmth and sunshine. But then, as the patriarch Padre's birthday approached, the fair weather began to change. The earth became cold and the heavens became filled with dark clouds, and the people were sorely oppressed, and longed for the fine times to continue for the sake of their haggis run.
But the Lord God knew that Padre had sinned, and did not deserve a day of sunshine.
And Padre said, "The forecast for the weather Sunday is not looking good, and therefore I am busy doing my anti rain dance, at midnight, with the chicken entrails, as per the ancient tradition, around the garden, in the hope I can keep this area clear for the big event of the year."
And the Lord God was angered and said, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, thou shalt have no other gods before me, and verily, thou shalt not use fraudulently the name of Farty Bum, and so, verily, I say unto you, I shall make it rain." And Padre spoke again, and said, "Anybody know where I can buy Rutabaga?"
So this was the background to Padre's haggis run. After about eight weeks of magnificent sunny weather, the temperature plunged and the sky became filled with black clouds, and all on account of Padre's dishonesty in writing run reports and signing them "Farty Bum", and then denying it and organizing plots!
So we started out on a cold miserable Sunday morning, following Prestressed's rather technical directions to his house in Montauroux. It wasn't quite raining, but only just. A good crowd of 31 hashers showed up, including non-regulars Roadrunner, Wuff Diva and Sciptease, visitor Fairy Light from Milan, and newcomer Lois. We were also happy to have Tidal Dave, Dingus, Supermarket Trolley and Jobsworth, whom we don't see often enough these days, and Undergrowth (whose hair has grown considerably since the last time we saw him), and also our not-quite-new newcomers, André and Filip. Sadist was wearing his Scottish headgear and red wig, and so was someone else, but I can't remember who - perhaps Cumalot, but other than these, symbols of Scottishness were down compared to previous years. Confusion had brought a puppy she was looking after.
Farty Bum was nearly late on account of Prestressed's dangerous directions - "After 8.5 km....", "After 1.5 km....", "After 1.1 km...." (six of these), which required the driver to be continuously looking at the kilometrage and doing mental arithmetic while rounding dangerous curves with ravines on both sides - so there was no time to collect money before the run. Everyone was cold and wanted to get going, so we set off. The runners dashed away and the walkers strolled down Prestressed's driveway and then turned down a road to the right. Then, shortly afterwards, off this road and onto a trail ....right, left, up, down etc. The puppy kept running back and forth and getting his leash in people's legs.
After awhile we went up a very steep hill. Sneaky Bastard remarked that the last time we went up this hill, in December 06, he was pushing Knicker Licker from behind all the way up. As we were standing at the top catching our breaths, a car came up, but because of the hashers milling around in her way (particularly Fairy Plunger, who had arrived late and was catching up), the female driver, after balancing precariously near the summit for a moment, was forced to back down to the bottom again. She didn't panic! After waiting for the hashers to clear out of the way, she gave it the gun and roared up again. Two female hashers vowed that they would have made a twenty-mile detour to avoid any chance of finding themselves rolling backwards down such an incline.
We turned to the right and followed the road awhile, and the next thing I remember, we were at the beer stop. Since we had arrived there quite quickly, instead of standing around freezing to death while waiting for the runners, the decision was made to keep warm by continuing down the road another ten minutes. Fortunately someone remembered to keep track of the time, because some of the walkers definitely are a little scatterbrained and could easily have walked all the way to Cannes if No Grappa (or was it Tosspot?)had not shouted after them to turn back.
We got back to the beerstop and the runners were all there now. The beer-mobile was not Pedo's vehicle for some reason which I didn't catch, but Padre's, and we noticed that the beer was bottled, as in days of yore (Pedo has been saving us money lately by buying it in cans, at Lydl's) and there was also an unfamiliar brand of crisps - the orange-coloured ones were quite tasty, most hashers agreed. Pedo, by the way, did come to the hash, but I can't remember if he arrived during the run or just after.
After the beerstop we were directed onto a stream-bed /path directly behind the beer-car and started a long, invigourating climb up a hillside through the trees. There were frequent large steps up onto rocky ledges, which made several people wish they had brought walking sticks. About halfway up this trail, the runners appeared out of the trees from a path on the right, and then they continued up the same stream-bed trail as us. We could hear Dingus's whistle in the distance.
At some point we came out onto a road at the top, and after going down it awhile, the next thing I remember is Dire Rear shouting after Tosspot and Rubbermaid that they'd missed a large arrow pointing straight ahead on the road. But both Tosspot and Rubbermaid declared that the instructions had said to pay no attention to arrows, which were for the runners only, and so they were following some flour that led down a side road. Dire Rear shrugged and, admitting that Tosspot had a very good sense of direction, turned down the side road after them.
We went down quite some way, passed through a large cross, and continued downward another ten or fifteen minutes, discussing and comparing Dire Rear's son's previous and present girlfriends. Suddenly we met the men coming back (Tosspot, Rubbermaid, Fairy Plunger, and also André, I believe). "We haven't seen any flour for ages," said Tosspot. "We're going back up," said Rubbermaid. "Non!" cried Dire Rear, and sat down in the middle of the road, declaring that she would not take a single step in any uphill direction.
But her common sense quickly returned, and we started the long trek back up. It was a heck of a long way. Just as we reached the top Rubbermaid received a phone call (presumably from Saddle Sniffer, or perhaps it was Prestressed) and as we progressed along the road we could hear him saying, "We're just passing a tall pine tree ..... we're now in front of a white house with a bent chimney...." . Apparently the entire hash had been back for half an hour already, and was waiting to start the down-downs. We descended a staircase across some private property, inched our way down a very steep, slippery road, and were back at last.
And then started that ignominious circle - that circle which for evermore will be remembered for the appalling miscarriage of justice it meted out. First there were down-downs for the hares - Padre and Prestressed. Then suddenly Happy Hooker stepped forward and, in a menacing voice, read out the definition of "Kangaroo Court", and the next thing we knew, ten or fifteen masked kangaroos were hopping around all over the place. This reporter was so startled that he failed to take in who they were. Perhaps Dingus was one of them. Perhaps Supermarket Trolley was another. Who were the rest of them? Perpetch was definitely wearing a mask, but did he participate in the hopping?
Dark and Moist, our esteemed Religious Advisor, announced that a question of justice had to be decided - Farty Bum had accused Padre of being the person who had written a run report falsely published under her name. Sadist had opined that false accusation was a more serious crime than fraudulent use of identity. A frightened Farty Bum began explaining shrilly that she didn't appreciate run reports using British expressions such as "moaning", "whinging", "petrol" and "crisps" being attributed to her. She said that fraudulently using her name was the "opposite of plagiarism". Madame Mooton egged her on, shouting that Padre was "vile" and "evil". Padre shrugged his shoulders and calmly retorted, "It wasn't me."
Dark and Moist proclaimed that he had appointed a judge to settle the matter, and ordered our Grand Master to step into the circle. Perpetch, with his kangaroo mask still dangling from one hand, stepped forward, and Farty Bum threw herself at him, babbling that Perpetch was "her friend" and that she knew she could "count on him" to be just.
Perpetch, putting on his most military manner, and pushing away Farty Bum (several times), who was clinging desperately to his neck, announced in a harsh voice, "I declare Padre to be innocent of all crimes of which he is accused."
Now, dearly beloved, at this point, the Lord God might have intervened with a spectacular cloudburst and dramatic show of thunder and lightning, seeing how angered He was by Padre' sins, as revealed by His words at the beginning of this epistle. But He didn't. Why not????
The archangel Gabriel appeared before Farty Bum later that evening, to apologize and explain. It was because, in her original protest, Farty Bum had declared that Padre and Jobsworth were guilty of the plot against her, but she later changed her mind and decided it was Cumalot who had assisted in the plot, in writing the second fraudulently-signed run report. Unfortunately, Cumalot was an innocent man - it WAS Jobsworth who wrote that second report, cleverly disguising his writing style to make it appear like Cumalot's. And so, because of this TINY error, the Lord God had been forced to refrain from turning on the thunder and lightning, even though He hated to see Padre (not to mention Jobsworth) getting away with yet another sin. (The archangel Gabriel did confirm, however, that the third fraudulent run report was Sadist's work.)
After people had recovered from this momentous and monstrous ruling, and down-downs had been administered to FartyBum, Padre, Cumalot and Sadist, the circle continued, with further down-downs awarded to:
The late ones, who got lost and kept the entire hash waiting at the circle - Tosspot, Dire Rear, Rubbermaid, Fairy Plunger, André, etc;
The returners - Woof Diva, Roadrunner, Undergrowth, Scriptease, Filip, Rubbermaid, Saddlesniffer, André, Tidal Dave;
The virgin Lois, and the visitor Fairy Light;
The short-cutters - probably Dingus and Tidal Dave, and possibly Undergrowth and Filip;
The birthday boys - Padre, Mad Max, Fairy Plunger;
Very special returners - Two Cheeky and Serge, whom we haven't seen since June, and who are now legally co-habiting and nearly halfway to becoming a threesome;
New members - Lois, André , and Filip
Mugs were presented to Prestressed for 200 runs and Tidal Dave for 100;
Shit of the Week: Well, there were several nominations but I've forgotten who they were - possibly Padre and Prestressed were two of them, but not Sneaky Bastard as far as I remember, and they tried to get Farty Bum a second time for the same crime, and I think there was somebody else, but the winner was Madam Mooton, for "meddling".
(Apologies for any omissions or errors.)
Down downs were now terminated because everybody was freezing, especially those who had got drenched by all the beer that was flung around (quite deservedly) during the Kangaroo Court, and also everybody was starving and the food was ready, so we all trooped into Prestressed's beautiful and spacious new house (joined by Nina and Perpetch's sister Margaret) where Skinny A and her assistants had prepared a sumptuous feast of yummy soup, free-range haggis, turnips, mashed potatoes, garlic bread, whiskey, brownies and I can't remember what else. Sadist blessed the haggis, giving us a stirring rendition of "Ode to Haggis" in pure Scottish dialect, with much waving of a long knife (while a member of the MacDonald clan made noise in the background, I am sorry to say). For our further illumination, Sadist then repeated the entire ode in English. I felt certain that it was not the same ode as last year, but Dingus swore it was.
Many thanks to Skinny A for having us in her home and preparing all the splendid food, and also to her assistants Happy Hooker and Madame Mooton.
Another thank-you to Prestressed and Padre for an excellent, flour-generous trail.
No thanks whatsoever to the "judge" and conspirators who so brazenly dispensed "justice" at the Kangaroo Court.
This run report courtesy of, well, who do you think?
The Lord God said, "And NOW let the rains begin!", and the heavens poured forth abundantly - all the way home, and far into the night.
Paris 800th Birthday - 17th - 19th February 2012
Paris Hash Turns 800.
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R*n 691: NEXT HASH 19 -Feb
Venue: Lycee car park opposite Jimmy's Killer Prawn Restaurant
Meeting at 10.30 am for 11 am start
From centre of Valbonne take D4 (Route de Biot), go passed Opio turning on the left, go straight over first roundabout (sign posted Roquefort to the left) heading towards Biot. Pass the Stade Leon Chabert on the left, followed by Jimmy's Killer Prawn Restaurant on the right. At the roundabout just after the Restaurant turn left into the car park of the Lycee (college).
From Biot, take the D4 (Route de Valbonne), keep on this road for several kilometres until you pass the Val d'Azur Domaine on the right, followed by a roundabout with the statue of an iron man in the middle. Take the left exit, after 100 m at the next roundabout (on which the Telecommunications building is situated), take the right exit onto the D4 heading towards Valbonne. At the next roundabout, turn right into the car park of the Lycee. Jimmy's Killer Prawn Restaurant is 50 m after the roundabout on the left.
From Sophia Antipolis, take the D604 (Route des Macarons), go passed the Fire Station on the right, over the bridge at the bottom of the hill, continue to the roundabout at the top of the hill (off which is the Telecommunications building), take the left exit onto the D4 (Route de Biot) heading towards Valbonne. At the next roundabout, turn right into the car park of the Lycee. Jimmy's Killer Prawn Restaurant is 50 m after the roundabout on the left.
The On On is at Jimmy's Killer Prawn Restaurant at 2 pm. Price is 21 € for two course meal and a glass of wine. Please confirm by Tuesday 14th February if you are staying for the meal.
Hares are Supermarket Trolley (06 63 10 87 77) and Confusion (06 80 71 40 32)