Mauritius Hash Trash 606

09-10-2011 Malenga Jacquiline/M Andre/Henriette BYO #606

HARES: Jacqueline & Marie-Andrée
VENUE: The 2 Mum(z)elles Run – Malenga
The Scribe can rather satisfyingly report that he had an action-packed adventure spree back among the glens, the bens, the lochs & the heather. His niece’s wedding was set against the panoramic, picturesque canvas of Loch Lomond, a quintessentially romantic scene that almost took the breath away; the ceremony culminated in a mildly soporific boat trip within its tranquil waters, the guests sipping on the effervescence of the finest champagne along the way. The highlight of the evening came when we were astonishingly able to do a Scottish Folk dance (the Dashing White Sergeant) to Katy Perry’s tasteless & textureless saccharin pop hit ‘Hot ‘n’ Cold”.

Before further pathological QWERTY-ing, the Scribe would like to extend his deepest appreciation to the multi-tasking Kay for deputizing as a particularly able & erudite Scribess – it is no wonder the Scribe was heard to ululate that they were soul mates in a parallel universe far beyond unknown vortexes & alpha centauri.


Fittingly, it was Ladies Day at Les Deux Mamelles for the 2 MamZelles Hash, hosted by our duet of incandescent angelic felines, Marie Andre & Jacqueline who bravely charted a superlative trail that encompassed all species of floribunda & all manners of botanical plumage. The Scribe rather suspects that the delightful duo were assisted by the expertise of their respective offspring, the Boulle/Leeds axis – but the trail was nonetheless well crafted & infinitely enjoyable.


The GM was attired as a sleazy lounge lizard in black bowtie & red cummerbund mis-set & he was probably under the misapprehension that his outfit matched the aristocracy of office; however, in profile he rather resembled a penguin afflicted with galloping melanoma. Nevertheless, he graciously welcomed a diffident band of first timers to our merry association of revelers as follows –

2)Claudie from Rose Hill
3)”Ton Ton” Laurent from the Imperial City of Beau Bassin
5)Jill – Kay’s blonde sister on vacation
6)Dave – Kay’s blonde sister’s husband who is an avid runner & hails from the more cultured part of Newcastle (The Scribe did not realize that Tyneside had anything remotely cultured).

Those who threw caution to the wind & bravely underwent a second cross country trek were suitably decorated with a goblet of Phoenix’s phinest –

Our diarrhea-friendly (Sac)religious Advisor, sadly still in the midst of a notable (& endless) menopausal journey judging by his choice of footwear, a sleek pair of teenager’s baseball shoes that frankly makes him look like a discarded fifth Ramone (feted 1970’s New York punk upstarts), very unlike the way that Georgie Best was renowned as being the fifth Beatle. Nevertheless he recounted a tale about a member of the Hash brethren who was a great exponent of the bagpipes & the practitioner of choice for Burn’s Evenings, St Andrew’s celebrations & bar mitzvah festivals. This lone Scotsman was commissioned to play at a pauper’s grave, in Souillac, of a homeless man, who had no family & friends. However, the bagpiper was not familiar with the South & got lost after he had left the motorway. By the time he finally arrived at the cemetery, there was no-one is sight except a few men sitting under a tree right beside a hole in the ground that the bagpiper assumed was the grave of the homeless man. So he stood beside the grave & played his heart & soul for the destitute man; he played like he never played before so much so that the workers gathered around the grave. And as the piper played “Amazing Grace” the workers began to weep openly. When he had finished, the bagpiper packed up his belongings, his head low but his heart joyous. As he drove off, one of the workers turned to his mates & said “I’ve never seen anything like that before & I’ve been installing septic tanks for years”.

The RA then meted out the customary undry punishment to Nadine & Emily for committing the cardinal sin of shortcutting.

The GM welcomed back Tusha from her exploits in her native Poland simultaneously delivering an Empire State faux pas by forgetting that the husband, Perry, had also returned & was also present within the throng. He also extended similar felicitations to our debonair didactic dodo dervish, Lord Grihault, who had returned from medical leave with his detached retina now happily undetached….and to the Queen of Prince’s Tuna, the monolithic Northern European, Everts, who has been floating in the cyberspace of anonymity for well over a calendar year.

As a deliberate ploy to incite involuntary salivation from the ladies in the house, Marie-Andre & Jacqueline hosted a fashion parade for the best dressed man among the multitude who foolishly chose to wear a tie & the “finalists” were asked to strut their stuff around the catwalk. The fleshtoned wreckage acutely resembled the lunatics day out scene from silver screen epic “One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest”, best exemplified by the RA who may have been experiencing a chromosome crisis since he looked all the world like an (unattractive) transgender truant with special needs. As it was, there was a triple dead heat between –

1)Mark whose unadulterated effeminate drunken duck walk was surprisingly worthy of mention by a female judge suffering from either advanced macular degeneration or from a definite need to get out more.

2)Our resident fashion victim, the lovable Hari, for (I think) being the best dressed female with an ensemble that seemed like he grabbed randomly from his wardrobe with his eyes wide shut. The Red Cowboy hat may actually have been a disused prop from a rodeo scene in Brokeback Mountain that ended up on the cutting room floor. I suppose you could say that Hari was doing his very best Sheath Ledger.

3)The Scribe itself who duly offered a most repugnant display of narcissism by virtually ripping off his branded top to brandish his multi-follicled torso for public ridicule with a pose in the manner of a Mini-Me bite-sized Arnold Dwarfenegger – it made Freddie Kruger look like an Adonis.

And we all wished a very happy birthday to Marie Claude who is 60 years young and, perhaps more tellingly, the women behind the hirsute man that is Captain Nemo who himself abandoned any bashfulness by planting a wet sugarcoated kiss firmly on his spouse’s lips. Amid a hollering of the horn & wild spontaneous clamour, the entire Hash rejoiced the occasion by singing The Birthday Song. The Birthday Babe marked this milestone by serving up the most delicious homemade cakes collectively devoured with relish .

The RA also extended a bon voyage to the Russells as they travel to unravel the esoteric mysteries of the Middle Kingdom.


It could be more than a co-incidence that an anagram of Slot Machine is Cash Is Lost In ‘Em.


In which The Scribe asks a Hash member a series of questions that attempts to uncover a sequence of useless personal facts. Who better to pick through the gossamer-thin 20 denier threads of life’s great tapestry than OUR UNI-DIMENSIONAL TESTOSTERONED THEOLOGIAN, THE REVEREND STEVEN FARROW

1) Who was your boyhood hero? Ernest Shackleton (prodigious early 20th century Antarctic explorer – he was part of Cptn. Scott’s Discovery expedition).

2) What was your earliest childhood memory? Pushing my sister into a boating lake in Scarborough, having to give her my clothes and then the humiliating walk back to the boarding house in my vest and underpants (you do not need a psychobabbletherapist to understand that this episode must have scarred his fragile self-esteem and defined the deviant/ depraved reprobate that he is today – Dr. S.Freud)

3) When was the last time you broke the law? 2007 Speeding fine in the UK £60 or 2,700 MUR in Mauritius (where else could you have MUR except in Mauritius?)

4) When was the last time you lost your temper? Outside a bar in Rodrigues in October 2010 with a Belgium sailor (seems like it is not just all the girls that love a sailor)

5) When was the last time you got into a fight? Breaking up a rumble in the Kings Arms in Beverley in December 2009 between two drunks (who were probably 2 inebriated octogenarian women with zimmer frames having a handbag duel )

6) Have you ever smoked dope or taken drugs? No but I do get drink alcohol from time to time

7) Name 2 people that you would like to have a conversation with (& why)? Kylie and Dannii Minogue on Tamarin Beach to discuss the art of pouring concrete in sub-zero Britain (This cryptic response clearly confirming the confessional in response number 6 above).

8) Who is your favorite musician/s? Donald Fagen and Walter Becker from the legendary Steely Dan (Legendary only to those nightflies who occupy the crepuscular margins of the music frontiers. For the uniformed, Steely Dan was a rubber “lady’s plaything” mentioned in the book, Naked Lunch by Willam S. Burroughs who also made a cameo appearance in the U2 video for Last Night On Earth – you always have a learning experience with the Scribe).

9) Who is the best football player of all time? Bobby Charlton a true English gentleman like me (not a patch on the genius that was Jimmy Baxter if I say so myself especially when it came to the alcoholic pre-match preparation – always guaranteed a dribble with or without the ball)

10) What would be the last thing you do if you thought the world was ending? Kiss my wife (and no doubt any other breathing organisms that happened to be lying around the wastelands at the time)


The Hash Mish-Management Team
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: Claudia
Deputy: Jean-Paul
Drinks for Wimps ‘n Kids: Also Gilbert
Hash Market: Juliette
Deputy: Marinette
Edit Hare: John
Deputy: Kay

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