April 29th - #846 Látó-, Kecske-, and Homok hegy

Hares: Rabies and Cunning Linguist

In yet another, in a long string of, beautiful Sunday mornings I was off to Batthány tér to see what Rabies and Cunning Linguist had cooked up for today’s run. After catching a preview from Cheesy Balls at the Hash social Thursday night I was expecting some pain to come from the run. The out-of-towner, who requested a Monday run was unaccustomed to the hills of Budapest and slithered back to the middle-eastern flatness of home.

Ascending from the bowels of Batthány metro station, I spied a hash haberdasher’s wet dream. Decked from head to toe in all manner of hashware, a guest, Yawning Onion, from the US, by way of Brazil and his Brazilian doctor (On Ya Vanya and Bundling Board; Fortaleza, Brazil ) wife, who must have been bamboozled by his oily American charm, were trying to find our starting point, not so easy since the rakpart was choked with parents watching their horrors finish up a biathlon (not the cool ski/shot one). I generously led them to our starting point and awaited more hashers to show.

One-by-one they slowly trickled in, Sex Tax and Pussy Willow, Rabies, the French NFG* who name I think is Thomas, Non-Smokey Donkey, and finally Cunning Linguist who did her best Baldrick, “I can come 35 minutes late since I am a hare” imitation. Off we 9 sped on the #11 bus towards Csatárka for another run into the Budai Távédelmi Köryet.

Surprising to everyone, especially me, was when we were set upon by rabid ticket inspectors (ON A BUS!, ON A SUNDAY!!! WTF?) demanding to see our tickets. I am routinely a “black” rider so I thought I knew how to handle the situation. I summoned up some righteous indignation and my best excuse for not having a ticket: “The ticket machine at the Metro station took my money and didn’t give a ticket. Then when I called the number listed, they hung up on me since they could not speak English, what am I supposed to do? I am but a dumb foreigner”. After a few “ers” and “ahhs” she left confused for the back of the bus without even a “goodbye” or “sorry for the inconvenience”.

After Smokey Donkey informed us all of his criminal record back in Denmark, and that everyone has one. In the back of the bus Sex Tax was receiving a tongue bath from some strange bitch he just meet. She was kind enough to pose in our group photo before we set off for the run.

We circled and Rabies instructed all as to “how to hash” and the particulars of the day’s hash. When he asked for a show of hands for those who were choosing to walk, all but the hare’s hands went up. Finally, unable to withstand the melancholic look on his face, Sex Tax and I agreed to take up the challenge. Off we ran.

It was a cleverly laid route full of checks, 6 or 7 by my count, and falsies, through the slopes of Látó, Kecske, and Homok** hegy. Since SexTax and I were the only non-hare runners, we had to run down all the false trails. Lucky for me SexTax was not so good at picking which direction Rabies would send us next. I kept giving him first choice as to which path to follow and for all but one he choose incorrectly. He probably wound up running an extra km or 2.

Arriving at Oroszlán szilka***, Rabies proceeded to try and mate with the rock. “It’s slippery” he said, and we knew he had been there before. More than just a monument of the trail, it also turned out to be the start of an uphill scamper to a Hash View”. We billy-goated our ways up the rocky face of Kecskehegy to be treated to some beautiful views of Hűvösvölgy. Soon the walkers caught up and also enjoyed the scenic vista. Finally we pushed on for the final leg of our journey.

On this route we came across the Arpád kilátó (lookout station). It was a beautiful view of the city below. We felt a few sprinkles which turnout to be nothing. After a short rest we set off.

Back at the starting point Cunning Linguist tucked into some turo-retés she had squirreled away before the run and the rest of us legged it to the corner shop for some beer for the circle.

Down-downs were generously handed out to guilty parties, mostly due to the ample amount of beer which was purchased. To the hares, to Sex Tax for bestiality, to the lot of us for some arcane rule about sunglasses Rabies invented on the spot, to Rabies for pointing on the hash, to the foreigners for unremembered offences, to the NFG for mismatched socks, and others. The circle closed with Sex Tax and Pussy Willow offering/being forced to teach the NFG “the way of the hare” for #846 next week, and much of the hash heading to Trombitas for another excellent meal.

On On****,

StAnus PSOSD

*New Fucking Guy

**An interesting pluralization

***Lion’s rock

****Cunning Linguist was designated scribe but I was bored and will add anything here she writes.

More photos here

April 22th - #845 HármasHatárHegy (HHH)

Hares: Cunning Linguist & St. Anus
(Patron Saint of Smoking Donkeys)

HASH 845 - Sunday 22 April 2007

Summer has arrived early in Budapest and the Sunday of Hash 845 followed the recent trend by dawning sunny and warm. The usual suspects gathered at 11.30, the only unusual flutter of excitement was the arrival of a George (C)loony look-alike who turned out to be Chris, a very occasional attendee and better known for his salsa skills last displayed at a British Embassy bash. The sun disappeared for a short while when BB flashed his well upholstered Buda Belly, causing some distress to those standing closest and to the two hash virgins, Judit and Thomas. The destination this week was Harmashatar-hegy (495m) and the hares were Cunning Linguist and St. Anus, making their first attempt to lay a trail.

The long uphill start soon saw BB relegated from runner to walker although he remained as ‘horny’ as ever throughout the day. Runners and walkers arrived at the top with only one missing hasher, Lazy Fucker, having lived up to his name by retiring with back trouble during the ascent. Views of Budapest duly impressed the hashers and interest centered on the paragliders taking off from a nearby hill.

A brief tour of gun emplacements followed before an unexplained and almost unheard of event split the pack, with BB, St. Anus, Sex Tax, Hulk, Aggie and Andy heading for the beer stop whilst the rest, led astray by CL, carried on following the trail. Deep worry about the rest of the pack meant that the drinkers could only have two pints of beer each before racing off to find the missing hashers 45 minutes later. A detour to the paragliders take-off site in search of Rabies friends (yes, he does have some!) was unsuccessful apart from Rabies claiming he finds it difficult to get up these days but once he is up it lasts for hours – we humoured him by listening respectfully and trying not to laugh.

Runners then set off on the trail again whilst Aggie and ST took the leisurely route back to the cars. Meanwhile the walkers had been having a bit of ‘retail therapy’ as The Dyke and Smokey Donkey traded last season’s haberdashery, ready for the 2007 ‘uj kolletion’. Hashers united in the circle, the major events being a Rabies-style lesson on the do’s and don’ts of trail laying – destructive criticism delivered in a quiet, caring and considerate way!

A hash-naming is always an important event and Aggie duly received her name of Haggis accompanied by copious amounts of flour and beer with her hair taking on the consistency of dough. Sad news of the departure from Budapest of Lazy Fucker led to a sentimental and heart-felt chorus of ‘fuck off, fuck off, fuck off, fuck off’ to the strains of Auld Lang Syne.

Those going for lunch decamped to the Trombitas pub on Moszkva Ter via the best bakery in Budapest for pogacsa. BB had gone home and rejoined the group looking very sartorial in a panama hat. Excellent food all round, especially the edible soup bowls. Arrangements made for various pub meetings at the end of the week and home to sleep off another successful and happy hash. On, on.

Sex Tax and Pussy Willow

Social Hash results

Hello hashers,

Well Thursday night's social at Bastille Bar was quite nice by all accounts aside from those that showed up; that is, the beer was cold, plentiful and cheap.

Arriving at 8:30 to view Smokey Donkey glumly staring at his small glass of mineral water. Alas, the test result have not been return meaning SD is on the wagon for another month. Doesn't matter, just means that there will be more for the rest of us!!!

Next came BB and the Dyke, who unfortunately will not be with us Sunday due to a long overdue trip the the hither regions of pre-Trianon Hungary. Please be careful with the driving as we need the hash-beer wagon to return in one piece.

After sitting and start his down-down, Cheesy Balls, relayed the story of Monday night's hash. Rabies, Cheesy, Hot Flush, and the out-of-towner, were bounding out of the woods, when the were set upon by a very angry and territorial animal, no, it wasn't Smokey. This foul beast decided to take a nibble of the nicest leg possible and since I don't run on Mondays, Hot Flush's was chomped on.

To make a long story short: blood was drawn, the dog ran off, owner summoned, a night of rest, infection set in, hospital visit, knives drawn, infection sliced out, bed rest required.

This is how I hear it so this is how I tell it. Everyone hope for a speedy recovery for you Hot Flush and we all missed you at the social.

Finally, Nora, who, on her virgin hash, was also hared, joined us. She is looking forward to making more runs, and of course more social events. She can't wait for a hash name said something about really wanting to go to San Francisco...

Once again hats off to Baldrick on his fantastic London run. I think I might be finishing up right about now.

See you all Sunday...

Stanus

For the hares...

http://www.pbfcomics.com/

April 15th - #844 Széchenyi-Sashegy

Hares: Baldric and Virgin Nora

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TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

Please find attached your personal copy of the most recent dissertation made for your meticulous study and kind consideration, elaborated exclusively for serious hashers by our exceedingly respectable hashologist, the highly honored Dr. Cheesy Balls Ph.D.

OnOn,

Rabies

-----

I am once again challenged with the task of mating pen to parchment, err, rather fingers to keyboard, to recount the proceedings of Hash number 844. This destiny I must say was ruled in a greater part by the scheming and connivance from members of the mismanagement committee than to my tardiness.

And so the day began with a mustering of some 17 or more souls on bright glistening morning. We assembled at the usual rendezvous to await the sounding call of the hares Nora and Baldrick. Nora prompt as she was proved ill equipped to seize the moment and lead us toward the start of the hash course, not knowing exactly where it was. Thus we waited for Lord Baldrick, and waited and waited some more, long past my arrival I must say. Finally in a flurry of consternation, the spotted sun dome appeared. With little delay we sped off towards the base of Gellart hills and the start of the hash run/walk.

Pointing the way far above his now tarnished sphere, Lord Baldrick led the way. On up we ran, and walked, along a winding road, on up through a precipice and across an apple blossomed meadow. Then onward and further up through a wooded path and another winding road, on upward we sped, (well, maybe not exactly sped), but up further, more, up, and still more up. The %&$# hare had us running up for the better part of an hour. Finally we reached the supposed summit and beer stop.

Panting and sweating we anticipated the arrival of a cool one, only to find the beer stop was actually a pasty shop that did not sell beer. Learning of this dreadful miscalculation, the resourceful and quick-witted Lord Baldrick announced the course to another beer stop. With only a minor delay we were again upward bound following the cog railway for another kilometer to arrive at a second beer stop that, much to our delight actually did sell beer.

After a refreshing libation we were once again on the Baldrick trail. Down through a tree studded park we went, on down through a darkened forest path, down further across a meadow sparkling with dandelions and more down. Onto a roadway we trotted, down into a cemetery and through graveyards we went. Downward we descended, along another long roadway and still more down and down again. Finally far below our past respite we reached the starting point.

I cannot report on the events that occurred on the walk, however rumor has it that the trek was filled with lively conversation, ribald limericks suggestive cavorting, although we will never know for sure.

After quite a bit of further delay, walking laggards be held, the hash circle began. The Hares, Nora and Baldrick were accosted with the usual demonstrative accusations but most thought their course was inventive, picturesque and novel although it had its ups and downs.

The next order of business was to recognize two virgins. Nora, also a virgin hare, and Judith were summoned to the circle for the ritual proclamations. Nora exhibited some confusion and bewilderment at the accusation of being a virgin until it was explained that the term only applied to the Hash House Harrier group. But we thanked her for her confession and encouraged her to enlighten us with any details she might wish to share.

A returnee was next recognized. Natasha, after a two-year hiatus from the Hash has once again found the wisdom and fortitude to return to exercise, friendship, fresh air and a good measure of debauchery.

Offenses were dominated by the technology category, which drew many more members into the circle than those left to croon them. Yours truly along with a couple of cohorts were asked to submit to a down-down for reasons too frivolous to recall. And finally Baldrick was given another down-down for just being Baldric.

Thus ended the Hash circle number 844, to remain a distant memory to some and a vanquished one by most. The company less a few souls retired to enjoy further libations and a grand supper.

Yours truly,

Andy, aka Cheesy (surely I can get a better name) Balls

--------------

an amendum: An excellent meal was had by all takers who sped off for a very well camouflaged little étterem on the wrong side of the tracks at Kelenföld railway station. Cleverly disguised as a deserted shack amongst large gas pipes, on a rubble-strewn vacant lot, in the shadow of Wien Hotel, and on which I now guess is Május u. (XI), sits the eatery Réti Sas. The food recommendations by the NFG Nora were top notch.

April 7th - #843 Nagykovácsi "Easter Hash"

Rabbits: BB & the Dyke

---

Again apologies for wrong names.

This was expected to be a quiet run being Easter weekend, but more and more people kept turning up until there was 22. Svetlana even left overnight mass at 5 to be with us. Four cars so we all crammed in, myself looking after the beer in BB's boot. Followed by police car for a while so used our diplomatic immunity by pulling faces and showing my arse.

Drove out to Nagykovacsi where the 2 local virgin sisters Zsuzsa and Cecilia came from by strange coincidence (must be another valley of beautiful women). Up a dead end track where we assembled for a briefing from rabbits BB and Dyke of not to get lost as the local hunters shoot anything after dark. And then we were off on on up, following half missing marks (BB has no luck).

Came across first strange check - a circle with 3E inside. The runners then following walkers scattered and with a little help from BB found 3 hidden Easter eggs. Once found some were eaten by hungry not Hungary hashers, some given as gifts to the less fortunate hashers who didn't find one - so much love about.

Up to the top of Nagy Szenas for great views and then on on down to another egg check where a dog had left a number 2 in the middle (perhaps it couldn't find any eggs). Then on down into forest carpeted in flowers until they were trampled by hashers seeking eggs. The runners did an extra loop meeting up with the walkers for a five-egg check, to much hilarity. up a steepish slope to another egg-check by unexplained monument from 1926.

Two cyclists saw me looking and said: "Are you looking for an egg? Well, it's behind my bike."

So, I had to explain what was going on. Polluting Cunning Linguist, showed her arse without diplomatic immunity. Once eggs were found and Liz had come up the hill, then up some more, and down to down down where Liz was the first one there. Beers cracked open and down downs first for the rabbits with usual complaints too flat, etc.

We had to sing from the hash song book due to the lack of expert hashers. Next visiting Hair something and Cunning Linguist from Cologne but Singapore home hash. Next came the virgins Babak, Zsuzsa and Cecilia . Next BB asked for the returnees looking at Hiroko and she said: "No, I'm Japanese." A bit of confusion, but very funny. Another returnee On time from four years previous (a record?). Next 10 minutes late and run on batteries, and Babak (who wasn't very happy claiming he didn't know the rules) and either Zsuzsa or Cecilia had been spotted having sex on the hash so centre of the circle for down downs.

So many other offences but as we'd spent so long looking for eggs we had to go to On Inn. BB made a couple of trips to ferry eaters and then dropped Liz and Trina back into centre where they were wine tasting. Excellent food at Ordongos where we had a devilish good time. BB and myself for the second week running ordered the same food coincidentally, this time goose legs. Paid, said our goodbyes and had inspirational lift back to Moskva Ter where myself and St Anus caught the metro. I spent the night wine tasting trying to forget the fact that I was forced scribe, offered to hare next week and I'd stubbed my toe which hurt.

---

Easter Joke.
...what do you get if you throw boiling water down a rabbit hole...?
...you get a hot cross bunny...!

Another Joke.
An English doctor is being shown around a Scottish hospital. At the end of his visit, he is shown into a ward with a number of patients who show no obvious signs of injury. He goes to examine the first patient he sees, and the man proclaims:
"Fair fa' yer honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o' the puddin' race!"

The English doctor, somewhat taken aback, goes to the next patient,and immediately the patient launches into:
"Some hae meat and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it."

This continues with the next patient:

"Wee sleekit cow'rin tim'rous beastie,
O what a panic's in thy breastie!"

"Well," the English doctor mutters to his Scottish colleague, "I see you saved the psychiatric ward for the last."

"Oh no," the Scottish doctor corrected him, "this is the serious Burns unit."

Baldrick

April 1st - #842 Nagy/KisKevely - April Fools’ Day

Hares: Bald run (Hare-less)

I went to the meeting place (Batthyany ter square, as always) with my car this time, yet I was arriving late, actually for the last. Accordingly, I was picked to write the report on the run. Here you are.

On the previous Sunday hash there were too many hashers and not enough cars. This time it went just the opposite way; there were too many cars and not enough hashers, so I could leave my Suzuki at the car-park of the meeting place.

Mismanagement Committee did their best again, no hares were assigned and no trail was laid on Fools’ Day, of course. Finally, Bursting Bladder came up with the idea to run up to the Nagykevely peak of the Pilis mountains, from the quarry nearby the village of Csobanka. The directions given directly by Bursting Bladder were fit for a hash Grand Master of his multitude, absolutely useless, I mean. By mistake the walkers first climbed the Kiskevely (“Little Pride”) instead of the Nagykevely
(“Huge Pride”), for instance. The runners got also lost several times in the maze of tourists, trails and caves.

At the end of the day the pack came together on the correct peak, the “Huge Pride”, admiring the great views around and the private huge pride of Incredible Hulk. Hulk tied his waist around his waist in a way implicating to have a constant erection. “Things like that make Hulk really Incredible!” admitted Agi, Hulk’s dear one with a blush.

Agi somehow managed again to escape the naming ceremony during the afterhash circle ritual. Liam (?) was not so lucky. Despite of being pretty fresh in BH3, he was baptized on the spot, without mercy. His new hash name is “Saint Anus” from now on. It has also something to do with beetles called “szentjanosbogar” in Hungarian, although this is the local name of firebug, an insect not visible in this season at all. Yes, RA Smokey Donkey has mixed up everything again, as usually. The riddle remains unsolved forever, unless one of you can debug it for me.

“If you go to hash baptizing, make sure to wear some flour in your hand!” This was sung when we all assisted the naming ceremony. Too bad, but all cameras broke down, no pictures could be made on this hash. You have to believe my witness alone; flour with beer show well on blond hair too.

*Editor’s notes:This time the editor and the scribe is the same person: Yours Sincerely OnOn, Rabies, the official local old fart.