Bodrum Hash House
harriers
Date: July 13th
2014
Run: 157
Site: On the road
to Yashi (or thereabouts)
Attendees: 22+2
Hares: Dopey &
Hosier Handler (or thereabouts)
As Dopey was the main antagonist, perhaps he can tell us why
the dwarves are so miserable? Well, it’s because 6 of them aren’t ‘Happy’. And
so, surprise, surprise, the majority of no hopers were in situ well before the
appointed time of 17.00 hours; Vulture Culture and his Virgin (perhaps someone
should give him lessons or advice?) were busy quenching thirsts and collecting
dosh; a circle was called by our esteemed GM, presumably in consultation with
our RA, as the hottest spot within 500m was selected for our gathering - we
were duly subjected to the bi-weekly ramblings: the guest, a local lady
answering to Eileen (no, I can’t tell that joke) was introduced to the
assembled hashers, each stating his name, rank and number (your lowly scribe
accepting the role of Clockmaker 2, today); the previous week’s leading FRB was
cajoled and given a heavy wallop of beer to slow him down; and the hares (no
harettes this week) explained the intricacies of placing chalk marks along
roads and paths, with no back checks and then the complication – a trail for
runners (R) and a trail for walkers (W) but isn’t this discrimination? What
about Walkers who run or Runners who walk? Shouldn’t we have a trail for Male
Walkers who sometimes run (Wunkers) and Female Runners who occasionally walk
(Fulkers)? And so we staggered, lurched, shuffled off seeking chalk (mainly on
the left except when on the right) and then, as we departed, steeling ourselves
to dodge the speeding cars, in sped Latefoot (and no his Iranian beauty was NOT
responsible for his tardiness, he always looks embarrassed, especially when
taking his client’s briefs). And on we ran, the runners in one direction the
walkers another and the Wunkers and Fulkers in one or the other; past the
fields, mooing cows, squawking birds, barking dogs and itinerants, all
reminiscent of a farm in Turkey…..along the road, back onto farm tracks and
then another R&W challenge – and onwards enduring the ankle breaking summer
river bed; those who survived found another track, a slope and wonderful views;
and there somewhere in the distance, our On On site; a rapid shuffle up the
last incline along the busy road and we were back, another lovely Aegean walk,
peaceful with no interruptions of FRBs encouraging back runners with cries of
On On – no, the poor old Wunker and four Fulkers staggered home after a mere 60
minutes, challenging all odds and ready to accept the non-existent accolades.
And so another circle: the Hares were rightly praised for
making a challenge out of a simple walk; the guests and returnees were welcomed
back; the pinkies were grouped together to determine any similarities; your
honourable scribe was cajoled for being your scribe (but no extra beverage was
proffered in spite of hat wearing, holding hips and gob shyting); virtually
everyone else was given the excess ‘down downs’; a late announcement was then made that the
run on August 10 th (the day of the election, when alcohol is banned
in public) would be held on the following day (when alcohol is banned in
public); and so dispersion, either to Vera’s on the coast (for those not sports
oriented) or to The Local Pub for the football aficionados – a 1-0 win/loss for
one of the teams: And so the genie offered one wish: I’d like ‘Everlasting life’ was the response:
‘I cannot give you that’, replied the genie. ‘Ok then’, I’d like ‘Life until
England win the World Cup’. ‘As I said, I can’t give you that’….hmmm
JAPID
On On
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