Monday, 31 March 2014

The Olde New Inn, Pound Green

# 301
Venue: The Old New Inn, Pound Green (not Arley)
Hares: Hot Lips and the absent Father Christmas
Food: Off the Roadkill Menu
Beer: Worcestershire Way, and no more needs to be said

[Due to planned strike action by The National Union of Hash Bloggers, we regret to inform you that your usual service has been disrupted. We are, however currently in negotiations, and understand their legitimate concerns. As an employer, we understand the valuable work that the union does for it’s members, and are happy to arrive at a settlement. However, this means we’ve employed a guest blogger for this week only.]
HELLO EVERYONE, it’s me. Bubbles! You know, the chosen one, the best, the messiah! I may be bald, but boy, am I bold! %%%%%;-)
I was the first to arrive at the car park, way ahead of everyone else, especially the Sheldons! What a bunch of losers. I’m the best by a mile. Anyone seen my compression socks, you can’t miss them with the length of my trousers? %%!
Our communist GM welcomed everyone, but I was too busy being brilliant to notice. Where’s the wife? Cleaning the kitchen no doubt. Keep her in her place. She’s not very observant, as she thought I’d left with the other hashers. Could she not see my huge slaphead shining in the moonlight?
Anyway, we set off, and I turned right. Is that a surprise to anyone?! NO. Of course not! Don’t let the communists twist your minds. If us rich people are going to get richer, we can’t be distracted by poor people. Who will wash our Bentleys then? Where was Sheldon, why do I always have to wait for him? Did I mention I was brilliant?! %%%%%
We ran up some paths, then down some paths, but I was going so fast I didn’t really notice where. I know I had to wait for everyone else, including all the Sheldons. Boy, aren’t they slow? I’m very fast.
I saw some nice fields, with unspoilt views, full of nature. I think I’ll build some executive homes on them. That should make me a bit more cash. Planning shouldn’t be a problem, as I’m in The Masons with most of them, and I’m sleeping with the rest. I’m brilliant, and so are my mates. The male, white, straight ones at least. Where’s the wife with my drink? She’s so slow, compared to me! %%%
Anyway, I ditched the route and just ran really fast back to the pub. I was back hours before everyone else. Some might say that’s because I only did half the distance. But they’re idiots, and communists. And women. And I’m Bubbles The Brilliant.%%%%
I don’t know about Down Downs (the communist did them!), but someone made some notes, on something called a smartphone! My phone’s smart, I answer it! Where’s the wife with my cords? What! %%%%%
[Notes of Down Downs]
Firstly, a massive thank you to the New Inns at POUND GREEN (not Arley). Great food, but they've also got a unisex changing shelter in the car park, where Hot Lips and I played shadow animals.
The Hare. Hot Lips. She has been observed getting her excuses in early. There was flour when she laid it, the dog eat her homework, she used to have her marbles. The route was so good we did it twice, and we ran past Bewdley Dope Smokers and Gropers Club.
A welcome returnee, Spongebob. Not only does he have the cheek to run at the front, looking all ripped and handsome, but he's getting married next weekend. So there's a half for you and half for Mrs Spongebob.
The I-Spy award for observation goes to Kim....
The Confused prize for getting the activity wrong is Who's The Daddy. Gets on his bike, adjusts his stabilisers, rides to the end of the car park and back.
Russell Sprout. Training to be a ninja by trampling round the woods with all the stealth of a baby rhino, then shouting boo.

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