Bali Hash House Harriers 2
Hash Trash Run #1500
Trash Scribe: Nightjar
BALI HHHII 1500 HASH THRASH AT KEMENUH ON SATURDAY 19TH JUNE
FUCK ME – that was some party, and all kudos to the organisers and sponsors, most notably WORM, COMING ROUND THE MOUNTAIN, IBM, RINGTAIL & SIXTY-NINER, NO DEPOSIT, and not forgetting HORNY HERRING who ensured an ample supply of the golden fluid. I think we were on our eighth or ninth keg when I sloped off and there was still a sizeable crowd round the beer truck. And the grub – oodles of it, pig meat and satay off the grill and every kind of crunchy, crudity and sweetmeat you’ve ever heard of. But beware those BLACK BULL B52 BOMBERS and the cajolement of those dispensing them. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many motor-cars at a HASH RUN, and all so well lined up thanks to HARELIP & TOILET TRASHER. Wot a cosmopolitan crew creeping out of the carpentry in all directions. Preponderance of FROGS and not a few KRAUTS and BUTTER-BOXES: I even found myself chatting to an ARGIE who professed to prefer the IRON LADY to the IRON-WITTED GENERAL. HARES were WOODENEYE, AMAZON & SHORT SHAFT, who, as predicted, cleverly set three trails, each designed to get all punters, including ONE-EYED TROUSER SNAKE and HORNY HERRING back to the beer truck well before dark. Solstice in a couple of days, remember? Surprise appearances by THE GRAND POOH-BAH who was with us from BALI H3 RUN #1 in May1977, and THE WOLF – pisspot with paintpot who should slap it up and down more often – mad artist actually did the long run. It was a field day for the doggies – loads of ’em and all generally well behaved, just like their masters & mistresses. YWGMH, having been called upon to hail birthday boys and shrive miscreants (affording appropriate exposition of posteriority), was then persuaded to celebrate the comely presence of so many delectable HENHOUSE HARRIETTES by rendering the original ROEDEAN SCHOOL SONG. On being handed the mike, sparks flew out of his arse, his being unshod and said gizmo improperly earthed. It should be clear to everyone by now that I do not wear shoes and that I suffer from microphone phobia which means that I hate fucking microphones. Thank you SAINT TITS for holding it for me. And thank you chaps for beautiful new shirt.