|Himalayan Mens Hash Run No 0072||Monday 9 March 1981|
|Location||Bansbari||Hares||Robinson and Pagella|
|Hashit||Gough. Walking stick to Novak||Scribe||Possibly Malcolm Gough||Hashers||25|
Note: spelling is exactly as in the original!
After last weeks gastronomic excesses this weeks offering an efficacious, powerful, energetic, post-indigestive sublimate fortified, fortuitous, phthwharteeded and will go disregarded as a not very fitting Robinson-Paggella practical jok. (You fundamental orifies).
25 proffessed, profligate, gawky, gargantuan, gallopers set off for a famesome gambol in the paddies and moutnains led by gaffer Russell with his garniture ie appendages, hanging loose, to the exordium pause, ludicrously deposited within the confines of a shack. At this early juncture, A.S. had to descend once more to his chariot to secure the glazed gap.
After some opprobicus logomachy, which included a deviation across the road by some naive glaucoma - struck simpletons, the masticating phalanger D.K, eventually perceived the penurious shreddings and pursued them to their logical conclusion, - to the niche in the tillage where our caput mortuum, seraphic harea decided to divide et impera. Following some divine necromancy, that resident of Eboracum (D.J.K.) shouted ‘Ecce! papier’ . Sarsum semper went the trail abaft the tillage once more following the pulped secrets amidst a seething throng of vociferous miniature humans.
The querists Barron and Schmidt descended into, the Quebrada amidst shouts of extractum pollex (get your thumb out:). Ad interim the Irish gaffer led the cortege to Perrott’s folly. (You remember that Bxxxxx stupid false trail up a BXXXXXX enormous mountain). The real trail, of course was percontra, as found by Walkzanki. Schismatic cries from Fred the Ned were heard as he did a glisse into the glop The more urbane followers proceded with, suitable decorum, to follow him. We duly arrived at the penurious glop, some of’ the lechers including the Irish gaffers alter ego (Binks) complained of glitch in the limbs to no avail as the apostate Pinder decided to pullulate and stumble on avaricious shreddings.
Siste, viator this is the next repress. It was here that MRG and DK found themselves in the west when the war cry was called in the east. Perdition (or words of that ilk) were muttered from the lips of those two errant bodies. The Hash supremo (everyone stand to attention)- one of the caput mortuums - had not missed their going, hoisted his toga and bellowed forth ‘Thou has abridged the trail’ and got the reply, in sepulchural tones, ‘Tu quoque quis custodiet ipsos custodos’ MRG having stood on paper for 10 minutes, waiting for Pinder to catch up, shouted ‘Once more into the breach’ and into the breach we went, downhill again, to the final check on “Watling Street’.
The trails were quaquavorsal but most ignored all and turned right up
a glipulous stream bed reaching the road by fair means or foul and wore
delighted to see DK re-tracing his steps down a huge mountainside as the
rest of us were being suitable opprobrious about that SHARELOE (Anag.)
Paggela and his alter ego (everyone stand to attention)
HASH 73 - Roberts and Duba.
HASH 74 - Kedwell and Cruikshank
HASH 75 - Binks and Russell.
HASHIT * MRG for abridging
Walking Stick - George Paddy One Eye Novak
HEARD AFTER HASH - Quet homines, tot senteneiae.
SCRIBES NOTE - If you think the scribes are suffering from mental aberrations you are quite correct. We started at 51 and give you due ‘notice that finish at 75. Qualifications for two replacements -- Blank, piece of paper mind and pencil with no lead