Monday, 25 February 2013

The Reindeer at Ombersley


#242
Pub: The Reindeer at Ombersley
Food: Baked potato with cheese and beans, Baked potato with some sort of curry beginning with an M (Mayan or Moroccan or something) Fish and Chips
Beer: Yes, they served some
Virgins: None
Visitors: None

Lassie laid a fantastic trail which snaked and double-backed all through Ombersley and beyond. It was carefully laid in sawdust. The only other thing I can remember is that there were lots of stiles and some of them were very high. I should imagine that several undercarriages were harmed in the making of this hash. 
The RA was particularly pleased to see the re-introduction of that vital piece of hashing equipment: the jellied sweet. Fruit juice and beer were also provided. Top marks to this skilled hash layer for getting it so right, especially following some rather dismissal refreshments over the last few weeks – foxes? Really?  It was also the first mud-free hash in months, many of us, me included will be pleased to be avoiding the whole; wash it out in the bath, followed by the wet dribble to the washing machine.

Down-Downs:
To the hare for his excellent hash - did I mention there were sweets?

Tits was wobbling like a weeble and this resulted in her being given not only a down-down but also a lollipop. This came from Lassie’s sweet stash. Is there no end to this man’s confectionary? He had more sweets than the child-catcher in Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang.  She didn’t even have to sit on his knee to get that lollipop. Later on she was offering anyone a suck.

Next up, downs downs for the hash’s very own Kray twins: Russell Sprout and Torchy. They were involved in pushing, shoving and deliberate slow running so that one terrified hasher was unable to pass them. Back at the pub the poor individual was subjected to more torment and scared witless by the use of ‘the death stare’.


Many congratulations to those who have attended swimming religiously every week and put up with Bubbles. Don’t worry the weeks of chastisement are almost over. What doesn’t kill you really does make you stronger! End of year reports are out and Who’s the Daddy was pleased to be praised for the flexing that had been noticed in his trunks. There was me thinking that only Bibbles (sorry, a typo, but I’m leaving it in) had been flexing!





Finally, four short and sweet mini down-downs for the many faces of Bristols tonight. She seemed to be having something of an identity crisis. She tried to explain herself, apparently it was all down to her being in the buff. Firstly, she was mistaken for a windsock then Santa’s helper, next as Mother Hubbard and then as a potato eating peasant from the turn of the century, not that century the one before. I always get confused with centuries. I can’t be bothered to look it up, but I think we are in the 21st century. Please let me know if I’m wrong.

Doggie Fashion Guest Blogger

Next Hash Running Horse, Bewdley

No comments:

Post a comment

Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.