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