Once upon a time on an island far away, Christmas was fast approaching and not a mouse was stirring, coz it was too bloody hot and humid. Many fine traditions are celebrated – none so more elaborately mismanaged and wacky than the Apia Hash House Harriers Christmas Run. While it coincided with the 1700th Run, it would be more apt to call it an amble. Unlike in years past, the Hash had always been led by the Fire truck but not this year unfortunately. Being a resourceful advertising chap, the GM decked out his Ford with boughs of plastic holly and other tralalala accoutrements. Calling for adults to supervise the children, not adults acting like children the grand parade set off from the ophidian compound known as the Snakepit. Indeed he has a useful name, as these creatures are often described as elongated legless ectothermic squamates, and your Scribe understands that this state was reached with serendipity. Anyway, this boisterous parade ambled along to Amanaki where bemused locals and somewhat horrified tourists were regaled by the first stanzas of Tallyho’s witty (and mostly smutty) Christmas Carols. Of course the accompaniment by Godfather on ukulele belittled the grandeur of the occasion not a jot. Having cleansed our throats, we then set off to On The Rocks, which caused some confusion as we had been told we were going to visit respectable establishment. But while old age pensioners surely enjoy the warbling caterwauling of visiting kindergarten choirs, so the grumpy old sods in attendance at OTR sat up and took notice with some of the more tone deaf trying to join in. There is indeed something special about this time of year.
On we went to Paddles and YNot, whence the confusion of tourists was made even greater as we delved into the 12 Days of Christmas – although with Godfather that ended at 10. Perhaps he was self-censoring, perhaps his plucky fingers got cramped, or maybe he was just thirsty. Tis all part of the mystery of a Hash Yuletide. Final stop was the panoramic wharf bar, by which point the singing was way too loud, the Christmas hats sweaty. The amble back to the Snakepit went a bit faster, and a few extremely coarse rugby songs were given rendition by Poumuli, until slapped silly by Wahoo.
The GM eventually assembled the throng into a semblance of a circle, and announced that he would try and keep this short. He started with the Trail of the Year Award, which was held shortly after Cyclone Evan, and required ropes and handholding, and a soft landing methinks. This went to Witch Doctor, who tried to implicate her brother but to no avail. The Run of the Year Award went to Eveready and Karaoke for the finest Pink Run to date.
Speaking of Lewinsky, the GM was at odds and ends about the Prick of the Year Award. In past years someone has continuously sabotaged the vote meter that SOTB installed, giving Lewinsky several hundred votes when we only have about 120 on the books. Anyhow, the GM decided that for making an utter arse of himself, One Infection should get this award, naturally handed out in the tit cup, which he proceeded to lasciviously lick.
Parent of the Year Award went to the dad who brought his small kids on the run, lost them once, left them in a bar to go chat up some ladies, absolute hashman like behaviour from Seismic. And on that note the GM saluted the closest living relative of SOTB, Sassygirl BJ with a special award.
The rethreads were represented by the Snake family – Snake, Fang, Venom and Snakebite. Mismanagement was asked to come in and take a bow – POD, Poumuli, Lewinsky, Sassy, Godfather and Titty Galore.
This Day in History Awards went to Godfather (1962 – The Petrified Forest National Park is established in Arizona – and he had admitted being petrified of down downs), Poumuli (1997 – The Kyoto Protocol opens for signature – Poumuli negotiated that piece of crap), Slippery (Feast Day of St Richard), Tallyho (International Anti-Corruption Day) and Hot Nuts (Human Rights Day).
The Apia Hash Mad Monk then appeared and called on Russell and Kate to assume the position. Kate had been spotted skinny dipping at Taumeasina under the moonlight, and shall hence forth be known as Full Moon.
Russell of course plays with Full Moon, but was seen chatting up some Filipinas, so henceforth he shall be known as Manwhore.
The nagging petitioning by Dumas for a new name was finally acquiesced to, and in recognition of his persistent difficulties with grammatical correctness, he shall now be known as Spellcheck.
Sassy then nominated those Hashers Who Come But Once A Year for a down down, Soprano, Kiwi, Richard for Uncle Fred (who donated 1700 to the Hash Charity instead) and Rottweiler. Tallyho was also nominated for the Great Santa, Not Award.
The Angry Bird was back, and this time the award went to the year’s angriest Hasher, who had defiled the Hash Shrine and smashed the Shit of the Week Award, none other than Cockblocker.
Speaking of the Hash Shrine, Tallyho added in a little boot that had been left behind, and noted that this was bad parenting. When no parent rushed to claim, Luana did so, resulting in a down down for Cougar, joined by Tallyho for stealing from a child.
A special salute was given to Uncle Fred for his continuing support, and he offered to pray for another 1700 runs. Sassy finally nominated the GM for his hard work, joined by Gayboy for designing the new shirts. The hosts and the caterers were saluted before we had our Christmas Feast.
Check the blog for next week’s run.
Poumuli, IKA Slit