Thursday 17 December 2009

Maia in Christmas Hashing Frenzy!

by our special correspondent, A. Nonny-Mouse.

Maia residents reported strange occurances last Sunday throughout the town and its rural margins. Thirty-two sweaty individuals, many dressed in lurid, seasonal costumes were seen charging round the streets and heading into any remnant of countryside that could be found. In particular, it was noted that rival gangs of pirates were roaming around, led by rival Peter Pans, one of whom was spotted clutching a horde of coloured baubles, clearly booty plundered on her nefarious journey.
Terrified locals complained of the group's blood-curdling cries of 'OOOONN, OOOONN!!', the gaudy fright-sight in a nightdress of one known ominously as the 'Bunbasher', a wild-looking, red-headed, mother-christmas figure who was reported to 'love sausage', and a babe from Brunei wearing trousers that no innocent person should ever have to witness, particularly at this time of goodwill.
We caught up with these interlocuters at their portal, where demonic 'down-down' rituals are enacted, fuelled by alcohol. We learnt that they had possessed a local house, owned by a Mark and Anna Duffy, for yet more of this obscene mulled-wine and seasonal nibble abuse. The unfortunate victims were later lured to the group's place of 'bash' at which no fewer than thirty-nine people viciously crammed into a restaurant for reckless abandon, and Picanha, clear and disturbing evidence of the cult's growing popularity.
After feasting, certain reprobates were singled out, recognised for standing out even amongst such a crowd: a 'Rhythm Stick' was considered to have come up with the best disguise, or 'costume' as it was euphamistically named; a member of the youth wing, a certain 'Banana Split' was given a prize for collecting the greatest amount of glittering booty along the way, followed by a shady figure known simply as ... Dave; then a certain 'Spanker' was rewarded for the top moment of this invidious collection's year - ''chasing after the gypsies in Tui". This individual, dazed by her success, or perhaps a gallon of vinho verde, was heard to splutter, "it's not like it sounds", leaving us only able to speculate how evil the reality must have been. To finish it off, a godfather-like figure, whom they called, the 'Tim', asked a series of questions to test the level of his minions' depravity, or general knowledge.
Everyone left in fine fettle, one the secretive, 'Dutch Cap' to spread this filth in the untainted environs of the Netherlands. One can only hope that such scenes are never again seen, in 2009. I believe their intention is to reconvene for more, this time, cunningly, without costumes on January the 3rd, where they plan to 'shake off the Christmas torpor'.

Wednesday 2 December 2009

December's hashes

Don't forget that we have two successive hashes coming up: this Sunday (the 6th) hared by Andy (Whippit) and Alan (Never-a-Fokker), which should be a treat, and which will feature the fleeting return of old stalwarts, AJ and Diane Jeronimo (Last Stand and Lady Godiva).
Then it is Jingle Bells time, with me and Spanker, complete with prizes for costumes, various awards and a special Christmas quiz at the bash.
Make sure you vote here for your hash highlight of 2009 - the results will be revealed at the bash.
Let's have some bumper turn-outs for these two!
On, on,

Puppy Love

So, off we went again, on the 22nd of November, around the village of Laundos, close to Rates, where we did Hash 240. This time Big Stick and Pretty Vacant were the hares, having taken a drenching setting it the day before.
Seventeen turned out, plus three dogs, of whom more later. It was a predominantly rural affair, through fields, woods and very muddy trails much of the time and up one or two severe slopes (somewhat to the disgruntlement of Dutch Cap: "There's no pit stop, it's all uphill and we've been going over two hours," she complained at one point, with a face like the clouds threatening from the Atlantic.). There was many a bloodied leg, and some rank trainers by the end, after we had descended from the local hill atop of which sits some pretty little windmills, the inevitable chapel (São Félix, in this instance) and which commanded spectacular views up and down the coast. Mathematical saddos Hard Drive and Firkin Ell then proceded to discuss exactly how many steps were on the descent to the cars before the down-downs.
Oh yes, the dogs: I don't know what Sanath is feeding Oliver at the moment, but his dander seems to be up. Spurned repeatedly by Batwoman's Pushka (stop sniggering at the back there, Droopy!), he turned his attention to Pretty Vacant and seemed decidedly keen to express his luurve. Her attempt to copy Pushka's 'bugger off!' bark, only served to highten Oliver's ardour - something on the lines of, 'well, I'm up for it.'