Mauritius Hash Trash 611
17-12-2011 Grand Bay (Red dress) Pierre-Andre & Ryan (Trailmaster) Caterer #611
VENUE: Grand Bay
HARES: Pierre-André & Ryan
PARTY ORGANISERS: Didier & Mark
HASH TRASH – BUMPER CHRISTMAS EDITION
A loud Hurrah & even louder Hosannas for the mystical magical festive season is upon us yet again. Deck the halls with boughs of holly, ’tis the season to be jolly and a hearty peel of Jingle Bells with added layers of Yuletide cheer to that adorable band of misfits & miscreants, the Hash family.
Just to get you in the proper mood, all the ladies in the house can imagine that there is a healthy sprig of mistletoe dancing above their heads & dream the impossible dream that you are sharing lip-o-suction activity with the vertically challenged classically unhandsome psychodwarf who masquerades under the nom-de-plume of the Scribe.
‘Twas the Hash before Christmas & the day of the legendary Red Dress run which got off to an ominously uninspriring start on account of the back to front, upside down, inside out Hash Directions.
The valiant Scribe patrolled the Grand Baie/Pointe Aux Canoniers region with swelling anxiety before his passenger, the charismatic Brian Davies remembered that the site location on Google did not match the written detail of the topography. The fearsome, rabbit fearing demigoth trailmaster, the venerable Ryan Leeds got his left mixed up with his right & the left side of his dormant organ in his head didn’t know what the right hand side of that same organ was doing
It has to be mentioned that he is a computer geek so we can’t expect him to be dually talented with his software & his compassware.
And it is alarming to note that his perennial trailsetting cohort, Pierre-Andre is by profession some sort of eminent geographical scholar & really ought to have known better; one would expect that a man of his prodigious talents would know his Table Mountain from his Trevi Fountain & his isobar from his isotherm let alone his left from his right. Anyway, we still love those tantalizing terrible twins…. very possibly with an ice pick through their fontanelles (Oops the Scribe is not showing much Xmas spirit).
The On-On at the plush Ascot Bay residence was submerged in a colourful tsunami of red in all hues, shades & tints. Some of the males looked feminine in their flowing skirts & skin-tight dresses (yes I am referring to you Russell, Grihault, & Nimmo) & would have indeed make ideal participants for the Miss Mauritius Transvestite Pageant.
The Red Sea was given a tour of 2 diametrically opposite features of Grand Baie from the plush, antiseptic beachfront hotels to the more unpolished urban neighbourhoods, and it was through the small villages that the Hashers extended their philanthropic seasonal spirit by handing out sweets & gifts to appreciative children – not exactly Mother Theresa stuff but a noble display of goodwill nonetheless.
Even better, there were no post-Hash reports of Lord Grihault snatching back sweets from children who refused or neglected to show gratitude.
A group of front running obsessives (including the Scribe itself) managed to get themselves hopelessly waylaid after the final Hash Halt at the Police Station, tracing a mythical trail along the beach in the direction of Pointe Aux Cannoniers.
This disoriented mass looked like a pilgrimage “in search of the lost blob” & it was not before time that the revelers decided that it was best to abandon their fruitless quest & just return to the On-On.
The Post Hash circle came & went in the blink of an eyelid although the GM did look like a cute vulnerable schoolgirl bejeweled in his/her pigtails.
He/she welcomed the only Virgins who also happened to be special guests, namely Mr & Mrs Comatose (at least that is what the scribe thinks it heard) all the way from Madagascar (she a UN Consultant trainer & he a Project Specialist).
Mr. Comatose gave the GM a special gift of a T-shirt bearing the quasi-legible prophetic phrase “No Sex Causes Bad Eyes”; it cannot just be co-incidental that the GM is compelled to wear high-prescription spectacles although it does seem curious that Mrs GM, for her part, has perfect vision….
It was with an overdose of mind altering disappointment that the Irreverent reverend was not called upon to strut his funky monkey stuff on this momentous occasion & it was hardly surprising that the ensemble suffered from mirthamatosis (an aggressive form of viral infection brought on by humour deprivation)
The Belle with the Bell Jean carried her beat of burden with an element of vivacity although the Scribe did not hear the monotoned sound of the instrument echoing through the villages. She wasted little time in disinheriting the contraption to our discredited trailmaster for the cardinal abomination that was the shambolic directions posted on the Hash Site.
And so to the events of the evening jamboree which got off to lively start with what had the appearance of the Hash Oscars hosted by the Events Organisers, Mark & Didier. We were treated with a host of winners for all different categories with the Scribe clinching three awards as follows –
- The Best Undecipherable Screenplay (as the Scribe), winning a fragile tinsel garland decorated with a solitary red Christmas Ball.
- The Worst Role as Grandmaster in the History of Uncivilisation for which it received a colouring book. The GM did suggest that the Scribe could give the prize to one of his family members but the latter did retort that that it was probably too advanced for the intellect of the 25 year old under his care.
- The Best Actor in a Front Running Bastard role, shared with Polish Pantheress, Tusha, for which they each received a first birthday candle. There was a host of other deserved nominees for the myriad of coveted prizes on offer but the Scribe was undutifully not paying attention to the proceedings preferring to melt into the darkened shadows talking to that menacing midnight vulture the Hash Horn Girish.
The buffet was served to a background of live lounge music performed by a duet of heavyweight artists dressed in lightweight white cotton.
The first highlight of the evening came when we were treated to an amazing impromptu solo concert by our Hasher, Vincent who performed a selection of popular torch ballads (accompanied only by his guitar) with the pure voice of an innocent angel who had just floated down from heaven.
You could almost see all the ladies’ hearts melt with each crystalline dulcet note that evaporated into silence up to the loneliness of the night sky. The only blemish came when Vincent foolishly invited the Events Organisers to accompany him on the encore “Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me”. The guest vocalist sounded infinitely worse than a drunken karaoke performance on a cruise ship. Nevertheless, the Mis-Management really ought to convene an EGM to pass a resolution to anoint Vincent as our Hash Minstrel.
This sensational virtuoso performance was followed by another unbelievable homegrown show by a talented quartet of velveteen figurines who danced to the indestructible rhythmic Sega beat of Mauritius. The collective of Yanni, Nadine, Celine & The Waitress (no idea of her identity) glided & floated sensuously like a band of mesmerizing mermaids carving delicate invisible shadows across the dancespace – it seemed like we were charmed guests inhabiting an ethereal dreamscape.
This was followed by yet other home grown vocalists in the persons of Juliettes niece and the sister of Annabelle.
We really didn’t know what talent was lurking within the ranks of hashers.
It would be safe to say that all participants (active & passive) thoroughly enjoyed the evening’s entertainment, some even suggesting that this was the best Red dress party in living memory. A full blooded & gracious thanks to Mark & Didier for serving up a phenomenal & colourful banquet.
Take a bow gentlemen, you thoroughly deserve the accolades!
JUST A LITTLE BIT OF CHRISTMAS NONSENSIBILITY
And now to get you firmly in the festive mood……………..one, two, three, four
The Twelve Hash Days Of Christmas
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
10 Flying Fish Hooks
9 Sex Advisors
8 Ice Maidens
6 Blobs of Flour
5 Hash Horns
4 Back Checks
3 False Trails
And the GM drowned in Phoenix Beer The 10 Best Christmas Songs….Ever Fairytale of New York……………………………The Pogues featuring Kirsty McColl Happy Xmas (War Is Over)…………………….Plastic Ono Band I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day….Roy Wood & Wizzard Merry Xmas Everybody………………………….Slade I Believe In Father Christmas………………….Greg Lake A Great Big Sled………………………………………The Killers Merry Christmas (I Don’t Want To Fight)..The Ramones Wonderful Christmastime……………………….Paul McCartney Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow……….Dean Martin Christmas (Please Come Home)………………U2
Some Possibly Vaguely Interesting, or Decidedly Uninteresting, Christmas Facts Following the death of his wife just days before Christmas 1938, a grieving Bob May, unable to afford a proper gift for his distraught 4 year old daughter, decided to create a storybook as an alternative present and came up with the tale of Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer with a shiny red nose. He went on to sell the rights to a major publisher to eventually become a wealthy man . His brother-in-law wrote the lyrics to the song & although Bing Crosby turned down the chance to record it, the singing cowboy Gene Autry released the song in 1949 to become a phenomenal success.
In 1843, Sir Henry Cole wanted to do something other than send the usual Christmas letter to his friends & family & so commissioned a painting for the cover of a card. John Horsley’s lithograph design of a family toasting the season became the first ever Christmas card to be produced.
Tree decoration was familiar to Romans when celebrating the festival of Saturnalia, placing an image of sun god Apollo on the top. Teutonic tribes used to decorate trees in honour of their chief, Odin whilst Druids used to bring evergreens during their winter festival.
As Christianity spread, this winter rite continued but in honour of Christ. In Northern Europe in the 16th century, evergreen trees were decorated with roses every Christmas Eve & in 1605 an anonymous German citizen wrote about trees being decorated with “roses cut out of many colored paper, apples, wafers, gold foil & sweets”. Despite condemnation by religious leaders, the tradition spread through Europe, endorsed in 1840 by Queen Victoria who displayed their ornate tree at the palace. By the early 1900’s the tradition became an essential part of the Christmas celebrations.
The myth of Santa Claus was actually based on Saint Nicholas who was renowned for his exceptional generosity to the very young, many years later becoming the patron saint of children. In time, adults began to dress like him & re-enact his kindness by going from house to house to give sweets & trinkets to children who would leave their shoes in front of the door for this purpose. An Anglo-Saxon version soon became known as Father Christmas & in North American the European settlers introduced their own derivation, the Dutch figure of “Sinterklaas” becoming the most popular, anglicised to Santa Claus, as the benevolent figure who placed toys & sweets into stockings hung by the fireplace.
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. It was decided appropriate to invite the highest echelon of mayoral office for the Xmas edition of this lauded e-zine but instead we have to make do with the GM & his wife for the first couple’s edition of The Last Word. So without further ado, we have the combined wisdom of JEAN & PHILIDA RAMIAH –
- Who was your childhood hero?
Jean: Blek Le Roc (I just don’t believe that this character existed other than in the dark, brooding mind of the GM)
Philida: Zorro (dreaming that the masked swordsman would whisk her away helplessly into the comfort of his embrace)
- What was your earliest childhood memory?
Jean: Being compelled to attend Catechism classes by my mother (Didn’t do him much good)
Philida: Being carried on the shoulders of a PMSD agent to attend political rallies. (Didn’t do her much good)
- What do you consider to be your greatest personal achievement?
Jean: Success in my professional career – as a local spy. (Now we know why Mauritius isn’t renowned for its espionage talent)
Philida: Being someone well considered (despite her association with her criminally insane life partner)
- Who are your favourite actor & favourite actress?
Jean: Jean Paul Belmondo & Julia Roberts (No doubt drooling over her in Pretty Woman)
Philida: Julia Roberts & Eddie Murphy (It comes as no surprise that she would need humour to brighten up her life)
- When was the last time you got into a fight?
Jean: I think I never had a fight but only tense discussions (An ex-SMF leader who has never been in a fight? I just don’t believe it)
Philida: I don’t remember :(I think that it is Philida doesn’t want to remember as opposed to not being able to remember)
- Have you ever smoked dope or taken drugs?
Jean: No but I am tempted to try once. (And the Scribe thought that he was permanently on drugs)
Philida: No (Nothing like a controversial question to obtain a terse response)
- Name 2 people that you would like to have a conversation with (& why)?
Jean: Dominique Strauss-Kahn so that I can get some tips from him on how to seduce women.(that would of course be seduce illegally)
Philida: Barack Obama because we have something in common i.e. working with poor people.(I suspect that it was during this noble diversion that she met the GM as an unruly & unclean street urchin suffering from an advanced form of leprosy)
- When was the last time you went to church?
Jean: Where is the church??????(the lost geography of an atheist in the wilderness)
Philida: On Monday (surely she must have been praying to be unshackled from the unsavoury ball & chain of Mr. Ramiah that clings to the ankles of her legs)
- Who is your favourite musician?
Jean: Jimmy Hendrix because he choked on his own vomit. (Probably the only time that the legendary guitarist has been an inspiration on account of non- musical attributes)
Philida: Phil Collins (Didn’t realise drummers were musicians)
- What would be the last thing you do if you thought the world was ending?
Jean: Partying with the Hashers and to remain a criminally insane deviant. (And probably sampling some of Dominic Strauss Khan’s tried & tested seduction techniques)
Philida: I believe that the end of world is everyday.(It must feel like the end of the world being married to the GM)
….AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO EVERYONE
|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: