Bookmark and Share!

Mauritius Hash Trash 602

14-08-2011 F.U.E.L Huguette & TM/GM BYO #602

VENUE: Gibralta, FUEL

HARES: Huguette & Ryan

THE EVENTS OF THE DAY “Twas the eve of day of the Virgin Mary who (without trying to come across as a controversial heretic) was probably not a virgin, if my hunch about the conventional art of the procreation is correct, & I would also suspect that Joseph was a more attentive student during his woodwork assignments rather than during his biology classes; unless of course history has misled us into believing that Louise Joy Brown was the first test tube baby in 1978 & that in fact our old friend Divine intervention was the pioneer in this extraordinary “in vitro” miracle over two thousand and eleven years ago. But I digress….

I suspect that the menacing clouds which had been prowling the island that weekend had discouraged the faint of heart from travelling to the centre of the island in search of blood, sweat & tears but nevertheless a fairly healthy entourage made their presence known.

Although the directions on the website clearly stated that the On-On was to be the FUEL clubhouse beside a bountiful lychee plantation that had the Scribe dreaming of hustling a huge contraband of fruit, he had to think outside the comfort of his geographical box to unravel the undisclosed contingent rendezvous amid the muddy backwaters of the estate’s hunting lodge.
Huguette a trailsetting virgin was remorseless in blaming the last minute change of venue on the absent trailmaster Ryan, who soon became less absent when he suddenly swooped into sight out of the horizon with both sets of limbs flailing in opposing directions, in the process mildly resembling an effeminate rag doll on a sugar rush.

The trail followed the tried & trusted anti-scientific principle of “What goes up must come down”, the opening section of the descent being indecently treacherous where the Scribe found himself emulating the trailmaster’s unflattering rag doll appearance earlier albeit a far more masculine version; more alarmingly, just behind came the impressive Claudine, hurtling at the speed of a bullet train all the while screaming like a most deranged banshee but quite amazingly holding her balance well enough to avoid dining on mouthfuls of mud (her legs must indeed be very strong anchors).

The circle convened later than expected on account of a triumvirate of lady Hashers being mysteriously missing in action to the point that our forever temporary R.A. became increasingly fervent as to the whereabouts of his wife rashly speculating that she may have been attacked by a hungry herd of wild boar; however, the distinct traces of alarm on his furrowed brow were dispelled soon afterwards when the triumphant trio ambled home in an all too relaxed fashion looking as if they had just returned from a lush aromatherapy session at the Riverland Complex; they were totally oblivious to the collective anxiety that had preceded them. The prodigal daughters had also collected samples of unidentifiable florid flora & fauna for reasons that could not clearly determined & for reasons that I choose not to speculate.

It was with imminent concern to have noted that our (still criminally insane) GM has now resorted to bringing a flask of coffee with him to the Hash, no doubt in the faint hope that the caffeine can provide him with an endless repertoire of witty & sarcastic remarks.
We would expect to encounter this type of refreshment to be prevalent amongst the aristocratic classes at the cricket pavilions and not in the spartan wilderness of Hash event.

Nevertheless, the first timers today were –
1) John – a Scot hailing from the Scottish Borders town of Kelso, notorious Rugby country although he seemed to be far too mild mannered to have had contact with this most brutal of contact sports. He is, however, working with the Ministry of Land & Housing in Mauritius which I would have thought to be a less enjoyable experience than being flattened by a group of bloodlusting front row forwards.
2) Nadine – who lives in the FUEL area (who knows maybe in a tent in the sugar cane itself) & introduced herself simply as an acquaintance of Huguette.
3) Ivan (The Terrible) – who apparently was not ashamed to admit that he was a cousin of our eminent crate carrier, Gaetan which just goes to show that you can choose your friends but you can’t choose your family.

Second timers –
Michelle & Amandine were given the customary liquid baptism although the latter showed the disarming attribute of a teetotaller by refusing a beer & opting for a soft carbonated alternative.

The forever temporary RA then surged into the ring & offered a cautionary tale on a theological conflict within the Hash community between a committed Believer who would regularly stand on her veranda to shout “PRAISE THE LORD” in her best Mezzo Soprano, and a staunch Atheist who would retort “THERE AIN’T NO LORD” (in pure grammatical terms two negatives make a positive which would indicate logically that he was in fact a believer but I shall not be one to pour water over artistic licence).
The believer, a Mrs P Ramiah, had become a victim of the global recession, had lost her job as contributing Editor of the Watchtower & was living off scraps of stale food that the even scavenging dogs refused. She thus called on the Almighty to provide respite from her plight.
“Praise The Lord! Oh Dearest God in Heaven Above, I need food.
Please send me some food, I have no money & my husband is just a lazy, selfish, impotent, non-achieving waster; give me anything – roti, manioc, du riz cari, chatini coco, gros pois, teocon, rougaille, anything!” she pleaded.
Alan Grihault, the avid sceptic, stormed out of his house, clutching his wooden abacus with a firm grip & retorted “Oh Shut up you old fool, there ain’t no Lord” (that double negative again & from someone who is an icon of visual educational media as well).
The next morning, Mrs Ramiah noticed a large consignment of groceries on her veranda & without checking the contents in detail she cried at the top of her voice “Praise The Lord, Praise The Lord he has answered my Prayer”.
That man Grihault leapt from behind the bushes (no abacus in his hand) and laughed “Aha! You silly woman, I told you there was no Lord, I bought these groceries myself, not God”.
Mrs Ramiah jumped up & down on the spot like a helpless epileptic & enthused “Praise the Lord, not only has he sent me groceries but he has made the Devil pay for them!”

The RA also welcomed back a returnee in the guise of Martin who still wanted everyone to believe that we were living in 1966 (as per his T-Shirt), the year that an English National Football Team last won the World Cup & those of you young enough to remember will recall that the critical third “goal” by Geoff Hurst was not even close to crossing the line (I suspect that the linesman was suffering from double vision).

Alain (I think) was also dragged into the circle for the sin of trying to make everyone believe that it was Christmas time by virtue of the Season Greetings logo on his T-shirt.
I think that he did quip that every day was like Christmas, a statement that most possibly testified to the fact that he was enjoying the artificial support of mind-altering substances (give me some please!).

The Scribe was also awarded a down-down (from the very hygienic plastic urination flask) literally for his literal skills with regard to his maiden Hash Trash that few people read & that no doubt fewer people understand.
The RA optimistically proclaimed him as Bard although many would prefer that he be barred….from doing the Hash Trash.
And it is bloody well way too long to boot!
….And the Scribe completely forgot to note down the recipient of the sacred cowbell so he is feeling rather foolish at this unforgivable oversight.

THOUGHT FOR THE FORTNIGHT
If you are one of those hopeless romantics who is seriously considering a life of crime, it is imperative to ensure that your best asset is your lie-ability.

ANOTHER THOUGHT FOR THE SAME FORTNIGHT
Is it merely a co-incidence that Woman Hitler is an anagram of Mother-In-Law?

AND FINALLY……..THE LAST WORD
In which The Scribe asks a Hash member a series of questions that attempts to uncover a sequence of useless facts about his personality. Today’s interviewee – none other than OUR VENERABLE TRAILMASTER RYAN LEEDS –
1) Who was your boyhood hero?
  a. MacGyver, with a knife and a little chewing-gum anything is possible (Yes, I bet you are all saying Who?………….)

2) What was your earliest childhood memory?
  a. My first day of school, coming home and my mum made a picnic that we ate in the gardens (I bet he looked really cute in his shorts, his knee length socks & his angelic smile with the missing front tooth).

3) When was the last time you broke the law?
  a. I’m a good law abiding citizen, now if you will excuse me I need to polish my halo

4) When was the last time you lost your temper?
  a. I’m mostly very placid and laid back so not too often that I lose it,(Yes perhaps not often but…. WHEN was the last time you lost it, Mother Theresa)

5) When was the last time you got into a fight?
  a. Fight or flight – I prefer to run and scream like a girl (and no doubt dressed like one as well)

6) Have you ever smoked dope?
  a. Purely for medicinal purposes

7) Name 2 people that you would like to have a conversation with (& why)?
  a. I should say the Dali Lama or Nelson Mandela (though I have shook his hand if that counts – just name dropping to sound important)
  b. Karl Pilkington – to listen to his amazing/total distorted views on life
  c. Richard Branson – I’m inspired by how he came from such humble beginnings, overcame many failure and has managed to rise to the top. (Now without using an abacus, I would make that more than two choices)

8) Who is your favorite musician/s?
  a. So many great artists could fit into this list, but a brief chronicle through my introduction to music would be:
the first artist I remember liking was Michael Jackson – and I have a feeling that he would have liked me too (most probably when you were in your pre-adolescent years);
then came Roxette…so far my musical tastes weren’t looking too promising, but then the great awakening, I had a neighbor that listened to the “devil’s music” – and it was awesome, enter Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, Def Leppard and Guns ‘n Roses. After that I was unleashed and began developing my true love for music, many groups came and went, but those that have left a lasting impression and can be found on my ipod playlist at anytime would be, Smashing Pumpkins (they are first in my list for a reason – greatest band ever!!!)
Red Hot Chili Peppers, Slipknot, Avenged Sevenfold, Blink182, Offspring, Foo Fighters, Murderdolls, 30 Seconds To Mars and Britney Spears (yes I love Britters) and this is just scratching the surface of some of my favorites, this list can go on so I better stop now (Yes, I know that you are all thinking his fixation with Britney is somehow linked to his unfulfilled teenage angst years because it surely cannot be anything to do with her musical talents)

9) Who is the best football player of all time?
  a. It’s a close call between Zinedane Zidane and Steven Gerrard, so I will make a totally unbiased decision and choose the captain of the world’s greatest football team (No comment but I do know that neither candidate play or played for Barcelona).

ADIEU,
THE SCRIBE

The Hash Mish-Management Team
Office	The 2011/ 2012 team
Supreme Being:	Jean Ramiah
Hare Line + Trailmasters:	Ryan Leeds
Cellarmaster:	Gilbert
Hash Horn:	Giresh
Religious and Sex Advisor:	Steve
Ice Maiden:	Gaetan (For the moment)
Ha$h Ca$h:	Thierry (when in Mauritius) (Deputy: Henriette)
Drinks for Wimps ‘n Kids:	Harold
Hash Market:	Juliette
Edit Hare:	John the Goat