Mauritius Hash Trash 610
04-12-2011 Nouvelle decouvert Gilbert and Etienne B.Y.O. #610
VENUE: Nouvelle Decouverte
HARES: Gilbert and Etienne
HOPELESSNESS SPRINGS ETERNAL
Sunday Bloody Sunday….tucked away from scything hand of technological progress, the merry band of iliterates converged at a remote location somewhere next to the middle of nowhere where even the assorted wildlife of Mauritius have far too much time to relax & inhale the natural beauty of their habitat that was bequeathed to them by that aristocrat bitch, Dame Mother Nature herself.
The 2 volunteer hares, the distinguished, ultra-bionic Gilbert Ferriere & the achromatic Belgian import, Etienne (who is nowhere near as edible as a jumbo box of Guylian praline filled seashell chocolates) showed zealous enterprise by tidying up the On On in preparation for their guests & selected a sheltered convention point under a clutch trees just off the fringes of the B99. This gruesome twosome were ably aided & abetted by Etienne’s wife, Mirielle.
And it was a richly rewarding & interesting trail, getting off to an unexpected surprise when (for I believe the first time in Hash History) the walkers’ & runners’ paths separated at the very beginning of the run. The trail took the faithful among the familiar contours of sugarcane territory but it also took a charming diversion through the hushed silence of a secret forest that could have featured in an enchanting fairy tale. However, towards the tail-end of the course, the front runners were thrown into a transient state of bewildering disarray when they were faced with a hook at the top end of the trail (after an intersection that split into a runners & a walkers section). As this landmark was not explained by the Hares during the briefing session, there were many different theories among the dazed & confused regarding the definition of this symbol. It was left to the Polish native in the form of the energetic Tusha Joseph (weighed down by the symbolic cowbell but not as it turned out impeding the fluidity of her stride) to quickly understand the contrarian nature of the cultural phenomenon that has come to be known as Belgian Logic. She just turned around, went straight back down the same trail passing the abovementioned intersection & headed up the walker’s trail to find buried surreptitiously in the thick undergrowth the monogram ‘R’ denoting the sanctuary of runners trail. The bewildered entourage, fearing that they might be stranded together in the woods for an indefinite period of time, breathed a collective sigh of relief when they heard the clarion echo of On-On from down below.
The GM was neatly trussed in his new On On shorts & as a result looked every inch the epitome of a scholarly academic of the highest office (which goes to prove that looks can sometimes be deceptive). He swiftly called out the Virgins to identify themselves namely –
1)JOSE – from Bordeaux in South West France & judging by the coarse stitchwork on the side of his leg had undergone open brain surgery at some point in his life.
2)PAUL – from Quatre Bornes & invited by his tantine, Elliette (I think)
3)DAVID & JACKIE – all the way from the Yorkshire enclave of Beverley & friends of Steve & Kay. David showed his massive rock chic credentials & unfettered street credibility by proudly wearing the T-Shirt of the doyen of unvarnished blue collar Americana rock, the legendary Bruce Springsteen. Jackie is also a devoted fan of “The Boss” (as he is better known in the musical fraternity) & they were both looking forward to seeing him live (and very much un-unplugged) in concert in the UK next year.
Having gloriously eulogized our inglorious R.A. on his glorious sartorial elegance in the last publication, he committed the cardinal sin of an unwitting wardrobe irregularity by wearlng his freshly pressed On On shorts back to front. It is suspected that GM & the R.A must have swapped fashion tips in the morning & came to an agreement to dress as twins. It won’t be too long before they will be wearing identical fingernail polish, eye shadow & make up. Totally undaunted by this fashion faux pas (well frankly nobody noticed) the R.A. then proceeded to deliver a tale of a nameless Hash couple who lived with their 5 year old son in a homely apartment somewhere in quieter backwaters of Beau Bassin. The couple had decided that the time was right (not only in terms of peak ovulation cycle metrics) to try for an addition to the family. However, the flat was too small to enjoy intimate pleasures involved in the reproductive process without the son being able to hear the fervent zoological sounds of mad passion but the cunning father had a cunning idea –
Pierre Andre – Noah, it’s a lovely day today, the sun is shining & I think that you really should take your Weetabix out on the balcony & feel the calm reassurance of the gentle breeze wafting across your cherubic face..
Noah – Oh but Daddy, I was hoping that I could watch the Toy Story 3 DVD so that I could determine its artistic value as an allegorical statement & also to make a critical comparison to its feted predecessors.
Pierre Andre – But it is such a fine morning & it would be a shame to spend it in the claustrophic confines of this smelly living room. Why don’t you take your binoculars with you outside & give us a running commentary on what is happening in the neighbourhood. I think that this would be great fun.
Noah –But Daddy I would really like to……..
Veronique – Noah darling, Daddy will only be 3 minutes at the most & afterwards he will join you on the balcony.
Noah – Oh very well, mum I suppose it could be quite fun sneaking on our neighbours without them knowing.
The little boy skipped into his bedroom, took his Harry Potter binoculars from his toybox & trotted back out to the balcony. He quickly finished his breakfast & proceeded to comment on the animation below.
Noah – There’s not much happening out there except a few vagabond dogs making a nuisance of themselves in the road outside the Nahaboo residence. Mr. Nahaboo is growling like a wild boar & throwing stones at the dogs; now they’re running around in all directions. Mr. Mootoosamy’s son is cleaning out the bird cage with methylated spirits & Mrs Carossier is scuttling along the street with her parasol towards the bus stop. The Changs look as though they are having a Samsung TV being delivered by Courts – HD by the looks of it. There’s also a band of drunken men in & around Tote Le Pep possibly waiting to lose all their money on that temperamental donkey called Gaudio in the first race. The Budhoo brothers are playing soccer in their garden with a tennis ball & the Lagesses are having sex.
On hearing the last phrase, the grappling couple ceased their exercise abruptly as if having a seizure & stared at each other in horror.
Pierre Andre – But how do you know that the Lagesses are having sex?
Noah – Because their kid is standing on the balcony too!!
The R.A. quickly moved on to the ministerial ritual of condemning the faithless to the withering punishment of a down down, the following being the culprits, sinners & opportunists –
1)MATTHIEU – for the unchivalrous behavior of being a disingenuous unathletic athlete by only running the last 400 metres of the Hash, preferring to ramble with the walkers before his sudden machismo spurt of energy.
2)BOB RUSSELL – for not taking responsibility as Cybermaster for the website meltdown that occurred earlier in the week. Possibly also for wearing a ridiculous Vietnamese lady’s rice hat that flared out like a lampshade. It looked like a misplaced camel’s hump.
3)BERTRAND – for looking like a retarded buffoon by parading shamelessly in a blue United Nations helmet & thereby convincingly trumping Lord Russell. To add to this unflattering image, he persisted in blowing through one of those irritating & noisy Vuvuzelas. The Ivorians must be breathing a hefty sigh of relief that he was not part of the mission to protect Alassane Ouatarra during the post election dispute earlier this year.
4)KAY FARROW – for abandoning her family & friends to compete in a 21 km relay race at Flic En Flac even showing signs of premature madness by running with a heavily bandaged foot following a shopping accident earlier in the week, perhaps being attacked by a runaway trolley. They obviously breed them tough up North where pain barriers clearly do not exist.
The Belle with the bell, Tusha thought it appropriate to donate the instrument to another front runner, Jean who will have the unenviable task of hauling it around the Grand Bay area with her costume at the Red Dress Run in a fortnight.
Don’t keep a man guessing too long , he’s sure to find the answer somewhere else – Mae West
How can a woman be expected to be happy with a man who insists on treating her as if she were a perfectly normal human being – Oscar Wilde
A man in love is incomplete until he has married. Then he’s finished – Zsa Zsa Gabor
The trouble with some women is they get all excited about nothing….and then they marry him – Cher
THE LAST WORD
In which The Scribe asks a Hash member a series of questions that attempts to uncover a sequence of useless personal facts. The next unwitting invitee to the coveted white hot seat of ridicule is none other than the ex-mendicant (who now comes fully mechanized) & worthy nominee to the Hash Horn Hall of The Hopelesss; the honed, toned, testosteroned Anglophone clone….The PEERLESS FEARLESS GIRISH –
- Who was your childhood hero?
My sexy beastly female half – I am a schizophrenic, half wolf, quarter woman, quarter man. (The Scribe thinks that this would make him schizophrenic & a half as he would seem to possess a hat trick of identities regardless of the magnitude of the individual portions . If you think this is the hallmark of a sinister, unbalance mind, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Read on & you will see what the Scribe means)
- What was your earliest childhood memory?
I remember trying to sell my young soul to Satan but instead ended up selling it to Santa – I was dyslexic in my younger years. (A truly disturbed character with the curse of an “insane in the brain” devil worshipper)
- What do you consider to be your greatest personal achievement?
Not landing in prison yet. (These acute revelations would make it highly probable that he will, sooner rather than later, be neatly attired in a made-to- measure straitjacket (on the false promise of a sado-masochistic session with a dominatrix in a PVC dress), condemned into solitary confinement in a padded cell at Brown Sequard with the key being airlifted to Sicily & dropped into the fiery inferno of Mount Etna to melt within its molten bowels)
- Who are your favorite actor & favorite actress?
Depends on the role in the movie. Nicolas Cage in The City of Angels, Tobey McGuire in the Spiderman Trilogy, Keanu Reeves in Constantine & any actress with big boobs and nude scenes, I guess. (The answer of a deviant and lonely individual who has surely been bereft of the sensuous attentions of female companionship for far too many years; anyone of you brave Hash ladies fancy petting the Hash Horn?……………….. thought not)
- When was the last time you got into a fight?
Yesterday. Had a wrestling bout with the dog about some bones. (It’s a pity that the dog didn’t win)
- Have you ever smoked dope or taken drugs?
Since this will be accessible to everyone, I must say that i have never ever taken any drug nor do i intend to in the future. Between you and me, Sex & good food provide the best orgasm. Having them both at the same time, just doubles the pleasure. (The Scribe must point out that these are his original, unedited answers, as unsettling and macabre as they may be – excuse me while I just discharge the entire contents of my stomach into a flowerless vase)
- Name 2 people that you would like to have a conversation with (& why)?
a)Lord Alfred Tennyson, I just want to kick his ass because of this phrase “Tis better to have loved and lost / Than never to have loved at all.” (maybe he doesn’t understand the phrase because the Horn has never loved & therefore the Horn has never lost)
b)God (whichever denomination he/she might be), kick his/her ass too. Am not sexist. God could be female -a sexy female goddess would be nice. (More indications that these are the ramblings of a sick, twisted and repugnant deviant)
- When was the last time you went to church?
2 weeks ago. Saw a beautiful buxom woman. I was so mesmerized by her curves and angles that I did not notice that i entered a church while following her. (Come to think of it, there is a strong possibility that when Girish used to appear at the Hash on foot, he had spent all night roaming the forests hunting for innocent arborea- dwelling species in order to commit the most unimaginable criminal acts & then to feast upon the flame grilled flesh of his lifeless victims – a volatile mixture of Jack the Ripper, Hannibal Lechter & Count Dracula; part werewolf, part vampire, part cannibal and part serial killer).
- Who is your favorite musician/s?
AC/DC, U2, Iggy Pop, Blink 182, Tiesto, Celine Dion, etc… (Only the maladjusted would select both Iggy Pop and Celine Dion as favourite musicians in the same breath).
- What would be the last thing you do if you thought the world was ending?
Have a sumptuous banquet and make love to a beautiful, sexy, sensual, buxom, tri-sexual female alien – both at the same time. (No-one can really argue that the Horn bears the classic symptoms of a disenfranchised mental tetraplegic with unusual & unpleasant subhuman carnal obsessions. The Scribe also thinks that it may be a good idea to drag the Horn to church on deliverance day in order to exorcise the hostile spirits from his tormented soul….before being committed to the mental institution of Brown Sequard).
BE AFRAID, BE VERY AFRAID….YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!
|The Hash Mish-Management Team
|The 2011/ 2012 team
|Hare Line + Trailmasters:
|Religious and Sex Advisor:
|Gaetan (For the moment)
|Drinks for Wimps ‘n Kids: