Wednesday, July 20, 2011

HASH TRASH Sunday 10 July 2011

If anyone had told me that I would be a scribe for arriving last BEFORE 1130hrs at the appointed place,
I would have laughed! Well the laugh is on me because as usual I arrived early, but unbelievably I was the LAST
one there....and so I have the reluctant (but enthusiastic?) honour.

This was one of the hottest days in 80 something years here in Budapest, so the
Hash only lived up to part of the it's motto.....in that there was drinking but no running involved. I cannot
remember the last time I only walked all the way on a trail!
Smokey Donkey decided he wanted to try out some Rom Kerts, so off we went to the 7th District, where some
prolific ones are to be found. Surprisingly only one was open at that time of the day....and that was Koleves.
So we enjoyed a drink there. However we witnessed a dog being abused rather badly by it's owner, so Smokey
Donkey was quick to shout at the owner to stop it. A consensus was echoed by some other patrons too, one of
whom also exchanged some words in Hungarian with the dog's owner. I guess the aggressive dog owner sized up his
position, and had it only been Smokey I am convinced he would have challenged him to a duel, but sensing he
was outnumbered, in his wisdom he refrained and backed off. I am sure Donkey was ready to beat the shit out of the
dog owner, given half a chance!
So having saved the poor dog we marched on to the
next venue, which was Grandios (or something like that). Luckily this place was well shaded by trees so it was
comfortable. Indeed so much so that we ended up having lunch there, along with some more drinks.This time
with little in the form of entertainment other than watching a bunch of hung over young
Americans who had obviously just woken up from partying the night before.

After a relaxing stop, we marched on.

The next stop along this arduous trail was a 'local' underground in the 8th District. Again without much incident.

The trail ended eventually in Varosliget at Kertem, which was quite busy and a number of dogs were running around
happily chasing each other. Smokey Donkey was still thinking about the abusive dog owner, so decided to find
out how to report such cruelty and abuse. There happened to be a stall for the WWF at Kertem, so he went and
enquired, and was advised he should just report it to the police, as there does not seem to be a body such as the
RSPCA in Hungary! Jaws recalled that on the previous Hash some Americans had their car broken into and valuables stolen, and they
had reported it to the police. But the police had still not arrived over a hour later when the hash had finished
the circle, so what chance is there that they would respond to a call for animal abuse?

But then this hash has it's fair share of Rabid animals and victims of Rabid animals. And even Rabid GMs for that
matter.....And then there is the constant entertaining victimisation of 'Customers' experienced by hashers at many
an etterem here in Hungary! One just does not know whether to laugh or cry. I guess you laugh when it happens to
someone else and you cry when it happens to you!

And so ended the hash.

In the true spirit of a
Hash there was a lot of drinking, but the problem being no running!

On On
Jaws, the scribe

Hash Trash – 17 July 2011

It was a beautiful sunny day at Battyhany ter and not nearly as HOOOOT as the previous Sunday. Those who turned up were like the Marines, “the few and the proud.” We had a new cummer, a visitor from Sweden and two returnees. The group was “Three Times a Weenie” and his lady “Maringay” from Scotland via Al Ain in the UAE, “Just Jake” from Sweden and the Phnom Penh Hash, Jurgen from Germany, a long time resident in Budapest but a first time hasher, “Pussy Willow”, Run by Batteries”, “Rabies” on his bicycle and your scribe, “Bang Cock.

We hung around Battyhany for a bit thinking that Kinga might show up, LOL, and then took the #11 bus to the end of the line on Torokvesz ut except for Nata who had her red formula one car and Rabies who had his two wheel chain drive vehicle. It was agreed that Rabies would be the hare on his bicycle and then Three Times a Weenie and Just Jake volunteered to be co-hares. They set out to set the trail followed much later by the pack setting out at about 12:20.

With three hares and one on a bicycle they did lay a ell marked trail. Even all of the false trails were marked with an “X”.(and there were many false trails. I can never understand how the trail can always seem to be going up and never down. This was the case as we wandered back and forth through the woodland until we arrived at the look out that is built like a part of a castle up on Kecske-hegy. We were still feeling frisky at that point so in honor of the trou de cou that we have in the White House I led the group in a rendition of “Father Abdul Obama”. There was a family with children nearby and they were much amused.

Following that, the hares took off once more and after an interval so did the pack. Now here is where it began to unravel. Again the trail was well marked but was heading (Head…who said head?) in an odd direction. We again meandered through the woods down to Szepvolgyi ut but instead of going up or down the road OR turning back to the start, the trail took us across the road and up to several “scenic viewpoints” up and across on Harmashatar-hegy. By this time all of us believed that Rabies had departed as the hare and somehow had smuggled “Baldric” back to lay one of his fabled “Death Marches”. As in the Lord of the Rings, the road went ever on and on and on. Finally, out of water and on our last legs, we arrived at the old bar by the Hanger only to learn that the bar was closed last month. We all collapsed but managed to get some water from the taps in the rest rooms of the Hanger which is now being used as a hall for weddings and private parties.

From there after many death threats, Rabies promised to take the shortest route possible back to the start. Unfortunately most of us knew how far that was and we had no choice but to stumble and crawl in the direction that would lead us to the beer. Rabies still took us through some more “scenic viewpoints” for which he was verbally abused. (No one had the energy to get physical.) Finally we came down off the hills and, wouldn’t you just know it, the final half kilometer or so was uphill an heading in on Torokvesz ut. (Too tired to say Head…Who said Head.) Now I know how the prisoners on Bataan felt as I collapsed at the end and learning that it was almost 16:30 or 4:30 pm.

All in all, four hours on trail I feel is a bit much however well marked it was and however interesting it may have been. An hour and a half is fine. Two hours can work but over that I feel is punishing for a normal weekly hash. Comments???

Praise be to God but while we were finding bits of shade and flaking out on the curb, RBB went and got us some cold beer to help us recover so we could drag ourselves into some semblance of a circle. 3X did the RA honors and did a good job of it. We also realized that Just Jake had been hashing for a while but had not been named. Since he was a co-hare today that qualified him so after much deliberation he is now known as “ Hard Worn Hymen”. Everyone was too fatigued to have a long circle and when the bus came we made our way over to it and back down to Battyhany ter for a very nice (but very late) luncheon at a restaurant whose name escapes me. It is on the same side as the church but a block away on the street along side of the market. All’s well that ends well.

ON! ON!
BC

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Hash #1??? July 19 2011

Scribe - Baldrik

Woke up at 1030 and looked in the mirror and as usual thought why am I an arsehole. Walked down the stairs ensuring not to tread in the shit that someone deposited a week ago. Delivered hare, Tititata to the start via 16 bus and still arrived last after walkers Haggis, Hot Steam, and Ten Minutes Late and runners Giving Head, Hulk, Jaws, Rabies and Stiff Nipples. Caught the metro to Moszkva Tér and then tram 61 replacement bus to old mental hospital. Didn't book into hospital but went to a little cake shop where Hulk and Haggis tucked into cakes while we gave the live hare a head start. We set off in light drizzle up and up, through numerous checks, ending at the viewing tower at Kis-Hárs-hegy. Bit too windy and precarious for me to go to the top, where Rabies described the various buildings including the secret institute to other runners. Then down and up to Nagy-Hárs-hegy less precarious viewing tower. Whilst taking in the views and Rabies describing the wrong hills, a rare event happened, Giving Head who was asking about some road that was missing, admitted to being wrong. Then down to a 24 hour beer stop at Szép Juhászné where met the hare and found a surprising choice of bottled beers. I noted what the nearby harmless alcoholic was drinking (not the hare) and was shocked to only pay 125ft. Is this the cheapest bottled beer in BP? The hare set off and the walkers arrived, Ten minutes late as usual complaining and Haggis generously handing out pogácsas. The runners set off through a rambling forest track and then down where Stiff Nipples spilled his own blood with a dramatic acrobatic gambol (given a 5.8 by Rabies). A few more checks and then onto Nagy-rét Merry-go-round area, then a huge penis on a war memorial, then finishing at the children's railway terminus where they they strangely sell beer. Waited a while for the walkers and then the circle disturbed by the beautiful steam engine (not Hot Steam) with lots of songs and laughter. A nearby caged dog was offered beer and refused. Then all off to a little restaurant where we sat outside and were offered 3 chicken wings with a part removed. Ten Minutes Late seemed to be required by the waitress to hand out food and drink for the rest. Most had pizza, my goose was good and the knuckle looked OK. Then the replacement bus back home. When we got to the Városmajor park Giving Head shouted that we should get off the bus and go for another drink. Luckily it was happy hour for cocktails. Haggis, Hulk and Giving Head ordered an Orgasm and Jaws a margarita. Incidently a cocktail from wikipedia: An Incredible Hulk, a green-coloured cocktail made by equal parts of the fruit liqueur Hpnotiq and Hennessy cognac poured over ice. Lots of jokes about the cocktails especially as Haggis was trying to break up her orgasm ice in a familiar manner. Unfortunately it all turned sour when Jaws was charged the non happy hour price, solved only after the manager gave the reduction saying don't get nervous. Perhaps he'd heard form Il Treno. We all went our separate ways after another fun day out.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

June 5th 2010 - Red Dress Run

I really don’t know how this happened, but I was actually arrived after everybody else at the starting point, which means I get to do the Hash Trash this week. However, as there have been a few contributions already sent in, I’ll just copy them in below and save some of my valuable time;



Giving Head: “It was an excellent, very well designed trail with two beer stops, several views, beautiful weather, great dresses and even greater company. The Hares did a really good job, our RA was even better. So it was very much enjoyable.”



Better Laid Than Never: “That was a fun day with great hares.”



Baldric: “Sorry”



Bang Cock: “I don't think you have anything to be sorry about.”



Peddling Pussy: “So what is left to do? Looking at the mirror in the morning, thinking "why am I an asshole???"



And as a final greeting to the rest of the attendees;



Peddling Pussy: “FUCK YOU ALL”



Well, quite a good overview of the day and not too much I can add to that.



Except, it was a really great Red Dress Run, which took place in and around the Castle District, with a couple of beer stops, good weather and a selection of male Hashers with very bad dress sense, including;



Sex Tax, who looked very pretty in his new red frock, complemented by his fingernails, beautifully varnished in a delicate shade of pink.



Burnt Toast, who had the nicest legs out of the whole group, including the female Hashers, and who looked absolutely stunning in his new dress, with a neckline, which accentuated his under developed, but rapidly developing cleavage, and set off with a little hair band (or in his case head band) with a single flower jauntily placed on the side of his head.



Baldric, with his bright red clingy, tightly-fitting little number, which tended to cling rather too much to some of the more prominent, real of imagined, parts of his body.



Incredible Hulk, who looked even more frightening than usual with his new shade of red mascara, which clashed badly with his rather large boa, which he seemed to be constantly stroking, pulling and wrapping around his neck.



Bang Cock, who looked particularly fetching in his new pink bonnet. The price tag on the back added a certain ‘Je ne sais quoi’ and his dress, with low cut and very revealing neckline, didn’t reveal much at all of his less than ample bosom.



And last but not least, Stiff Nipples, who actually looks better in a dress than he does when he dresses like a man, wore a pretty, summery red and white print design, cut slightly above his knees to show off his shapely legs and other various bits and pieces to maximum effect, especially whenever he did a twirl, which was quite frequently.



We had one visitor from out of town – Cairo to be exact. I believe his name was Cow Piss or perhaps Camel Piss – well, some kind of piss anyway.



Kristzina (I don’t know her hash name) made a very rare appearance and badly insulted me at the first beer stop by telling this German u-boat captain look-alike on our table that I was German. “What makes you think I’m German?” I asked, “Because you speak Dutch”, she said. Oh yeah, I hadn’t thought of that! Very logical!!


She also brought along her dog, Ernie, who incredibly has 2 different coloured eyes, just like his owner.



At our second beer stop outside a disused railway carriage kind of restaurant opposite Deli p.u. we managed to basically occupy the whole terrace section, except for one table in the corner where 4 German visitors were sitting down to eat a nice quiet, peaceful Sunday lunch and wishing that they had gone somewhere else where they wouldn’t be surrounded by a group of noisy, anti-social, obviously Communist, beer swilling psychopathic cross dressing Untermenschen. Oh dear, how sad, never mind and we look forward to welcoming you again to our beautiful Lebensraum im Osten.



From there, we went on for lunch to Moskva ter, which isn’t called Moskva ter any longer, but I prefer Moskva ter because I can remember Moskva ter much easier than the new name, which I can’t remember, but I’m certain that everybody reading this will know where Moskva ter is, even if they don’t call it Moskva ter any more.



We ended up in Il Treno, where there was some kind of beer drinking incident, which I unfortunately missed due to prostate issues and which upset the waitress, resulting in Baldric watering the plants with his beer, promptly evacuating the area and, as I am reliable informed, causing him to look in the mirror the next morning and think to himself, “why am I an asshole???”



All in all a rather interesting Red Dress Run. Can't wait for the next one.



OnOn

10 Minutes Late

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Hash on March 13th. 2011

Hash on March 13th.
Attendees: Giving Head, Stiff Nipples, Natasha (hash name?), NFHN Marina, Smokey Donkey, Pussy Peddler
Hare: Ten Minutes Late

If you cannot see your name here, all the recollections you might seem to have from that day are the mere product of your imagination! Punktum.

There are various kinds of intelligence. Traditional-sense intelligence. Social intelligence. Emotional intelligence. Standing-in-the-right-bus-stop intelligence. At least at one of these i must prevail. :)))
To sum it up: if you want to get to the cemetery, just ask Ten Minutes Late.
We took the cogwheel to go up the hill. Were wondering why it needed a number as it was numbered no. 60, having no other cogwheel line, it did not make much sense. All the way up and then at the beer stop Smokey Donkey was complaining about Hungarian ways. Well, I don't say it was not true.

There was a beer stop near the end station of the cogwheel, where they were a bit struggling with some challenges regarding service, we might say they were handicapped servicewise.

After a short walk we arrived at the other part of the mountain by the big Farkasrét cemetery.

Then decided to go to a place called Barack. (With your knowledge of Hungarian, most of you will think it was named after the US President. And I won't stop you.) Stood in the wrong bus stop for a few minutes, then rushed to the right one, thanks to someone's bus-stop intelligence. :)

At Barack, we formed a circle. Around a table with beers on it. While sitting. And drinking.

The Russian girls were not eating much, as Natasha was explaining, she was fasting, meaning some vague things, like, for example, she would not eat more than one egg, i mean more eggs than one. And the Russian girls were also saving up for next year's Russian ball, which costs almost 30000 HUH, but what's life like without a chocolate fountain once you know what a chocolate fountain is like? Hmm?

On on
Pussy Peddler

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Hash #....this is why so few get posted

If you want to know what so few Hash Trash's get posted anymore here is a perfect example. It was written by Sunny Side Up, posted to RunByBatter then reposted on the message board. Nice trash but too much of a formatting mess to make much of.

Scribe: Sunnyside up

> Our hare was Trigamist, flown in for the event. Our
> pre-valentines hash was particularly celebrated by
> Pussy-willow looking magnificent in pink.
>
> A select few expert 'flour graders' set off
> from the cog railway at 'Svabhegy'? and went
> searching for lost flour, to scoop up some for another
> time, as the runner's trail was pristine and unused.
> Must say the runners were missed as Blue Jeans, SexTax, Run
> by batteries, Pussy willow and myself had to manage the
> many check points through the woods ourselves. The ground
> was crisp and uneven, but with no glorious mud. Someones
> lost ball and a makeshift bat provided 2 minutes of
> entertainment with a quick game of cricket to amuse the
> 'barmy army'. It was soon over as the ball was
> whacked far away into the outback and lost forever. We came
> across a US embassy holiday home with 'do not
> trespass' signs written in English, so we didn't-
> not so sure if the non-english speaking Hungarian public
> would know to stay out. Then we came across what must have
> been one hell of a 'buli' at some point, as there
> were so many bottles littered around. It was very close to a
> nice little clearing, where it looked as thought there had
> been much rolling around. as grass was flattened. It was a
> pretty romantic valentine spot with a nice view, a touch of
> spring, the trees coming into bud and with many tits
> flying around the area, little, great and blue. We learnt it
> was the spot where a little sunbathing took place in laying
> the trail the day before. Trigamist managed to come up with
> a needed trigpoint for the record, which Run by batteries
> managed to scale for a good photo shot, but a later photo
> call was missed when Sextax decided to sit down
> unexpectedly on a steep path.
>
> We all finished together for the circle. We made
> sure we interrupted Rabies's afternoon with a rousing
> chorus of happy birthday to him and then declined the
> suggestion for a meal, so poor Trigamist has had to go back
> to the UK without a nice bowl of Hungarian bean soup,
> although he was awarded with a plastic beer mug to treasure,
> that had been carried all the way back from the OZ cricket
> tour. making Blue Jeans quite envious. Enough of this
> dribble!
>
>
> On On
> Sunny Side Up
>
>