Scribes 1998

840 - Sun 27 Dec 1998 - Westburn Park (24) - Hares: Wild Local - Scribe: Struth '(no scribe)

839 - Sun 20 Dec 1998 - Countesswells Forest (48) - Hares: Tongue Lasher & Oneliner - Scribe: (no scribe)

838 - Sun 13 Dec 1998 - Norwood Hall Hotel (45) - Hares: White Trash & Big Mac - Scribe: Eightsome

Run No 838 – Hares White Trash & Big Mac

Pre run down down to Big Bev on her 250th run (congratulations) and it's on on through the usual assortment of burns braes, gorse, bushes and just for a bit of variety, a cess-pit of some sort in which some unfortunate individual lost one of his shoes muttering something about a game of soldiers(?) Joy Boy was found sitting down behind a bush having a wee rest using the old “I'll kid on I'm tying my shoe-laces” ploy.

Lots of checkpoints for hares to show off their uncanny sixth sense – running up a hill saying “I'll bet it's up this way» to the faint echoes on on-on from the opposite direction. One of the FRBs – a Jack Russell names Bess, seemed to be having the time of her life running around like a headless chicken sniffing the occasional crotch and stopping to relieve herself as and when she felt like it - it's amazing how quickly dogs adapt to their surroundings!

Late on, there was a traffic jam at a barbed wire fence where there was much deliberation over whether to cross the field in front. Joy Boy was heard to say "I seem to remember we got into a lot of trouble the last time for crossing that field”, which seemed to prompt everyone to immediately jump the fence and carry on their merry way. Tackled Little Shit en route for any gossip he might have for this week's scribble, but he still seemed preoccupied with his slowly dwindling stock of little little shits.

Plan B was Swampy - she's always good for a laugh- and sure enough she couldn't wait to reveal the previous night's escapades of her close friend Crag Mouse, who had been in Amadeus looking to find the trap she'd had on Friday night. Apparently she had success after an hour and a half (or was that for an hour and a half). Swampy herself insisted that she and the off-duty policeman she met were just good friends. (Apparently they were busy being just good friends until 4.30 am!!!)

Down downs as follows:

Hares: Big Mac & White Trash and also Mrs White Trash (even after those lovely chicken wings well, there's gratitude for you).

No Handle' Henry as it was his birthday.

'Hot Flush' for being South African-Race Relations Board take note.

Harry Scumbag' for passing the GM on the run - imagine!!

'Pig Pen' for embezzlement and having a bad haircut - both imprisonnable offences-shit-head award.

"Wimaway' for explaining to his son how to go down an embankment and then demonstrating how not to go down an embankment and ‘Hippo' for lack of 'flower?.

Hash shit to 'The Penguin' for his awesome prowess in chatting up some young lassie until she pointed out that his six-pack would be better described as a keg. Also, apparently for spilling wine in all sorts of inconvenient places,

Hash Shit went to Mr Two Dogs Fucking' AKA Richard McDonald-Firth who, on realising that people noticed the consummate ease and high degree of familiarity with which he slipped on the bra he was given, then tried to make amends by kidding on to the circle that he couldn't fasten it at the back Nallaig Cridheal agus Bliadhia Mhath ur

On on


837 - Sun 06 Dec 1998 - Crathes Castle (39) - Hares: Harley & Swampy - Scribe: Wimmaway

Run No.837

Sun 06 Dec 1998

Crathes Castle

The Long Cold Snow Run at Crathes

Hares Harley & Swampy

While in the heat of my bed, I heard a sound at my head Of a Northsound presenter-it filled me with dread.

It's four deep, five below and Banchory is not the place to go!'

The phone did ring, a damsel in distress Oh help me my Prince' she cried 'A fairweather hasher, he will not show

And now I'm terribly tubbied, I feel so low

'To my castle in Crathes' I bellowed

Eh! for there we'll find cheer in the mist of the masses

War chariot armed, so off we go, taking a bend at ten was not too slow

We arrive in fashion, five late, no more

For which our beloved GM did bestow, to me, the pen to throw

Oh where was my princess to rid me of this duty

She'd only gone and hid behind a booty!

Hare did warn of a trail forlorn

It may go here, it may go there, and you could end up anywhere

Follow the pink flour and you're on, and a word! - don't be too long.

Little Shit spied Hot Flush so warm,

So duly covered her in snow that looked like a swarm

To our leader I did protest of the pen and the duty

I asked him for credit he answered me nay

For you see its leaders like 'Penocket' that are born every day

The trail it would away and up, good checking meant no catch up

On to the sweeties of dog biscuit kind

And down through a corridor of white snow blind

And then it did happen, we came to a stop

A kindly wood elf appeared just back from hols

Bucket, no spade and smelling of, what I hope, was alcohol

From a secret pocket it did product

A book of directions to take us to the beer truth

Thought for a mo, a falsey you're followed, back to the sweeties

From there we turned right and stopped!!!!!

In the quiet of the forest - which way now was asked - honest

Still quiet, you would have thought it a Cinders to walk and not run, was murmered

A wise sage came to our aids, the lake's over there, so why not break?

A wee voice did add, I'm sure we put the beer in the lake

And so we vanished for the proverbial intake

Back on track and in the lead

I came to a check and had to relieve

My name I did start, but then a slight need, I ran out of pee, you see

The trodden snow of earlier had gone

Oh its good to be with a virgin even just the one!

We followed the trail up and close to the castle

From where it would round without any beer to be found

Oh what a rascal!, I made it to a check and no one did follow

And thought back to the on on or I'll have to swallow!

The pack did straggle in, until there was hardly any

And snowballs did fly, kids will be kids, but why so many!

Visitors and virgins or which there was four Linda and hubby, Daniel and Paul - Both of whom had an inability to drive

Julek and Batty, she's one hundred you know, showed us a ring which had a kinda glow

Sans O is a Tasmanian sheet rustler, as if we didn't know

Young Man has a hairy chest, but he's not willing to show

Lois likes the feel, we're all bound to reveal, as 'Scrottom Soother' she has appeal

To the hares a double downer, cold bums and all

For setting, losing, vanning and having a ball Black bras it seems are derigeur, but pink is my favourite, its got more fleur

And so is the end of our Sunday outing.

I wish you and your merry jousting

In this season of cheer and good will, let's not be selfish or wish ill

I hope Santa doesn't forget the present I've been craving 'Cos when I see him flying overhead it's from the rig I'll be waving

On on in poetry??? Young Man


EDIT HARES (both of them) are off on the piss to tramp the sunny hills until Jan 2nd (party invites for after that date gratefully received!)

- Next week's sheet will cover the festive three weeks – Tough luck Scribes - you're on your own!! 30 - 40 copies of your masterpieces will be needed at the next run. Holiday from producing this heap of shit much needed!!

Contact Sheet – Dickie's lost his connection!

Pre-Christmas and Hangover Run - 20th December

Will be a VERY short run – long enough to work off the hangover and gossip from the Christmas Party, SCBs and Hash kids catered for, so be sure to be there, decorated for Christmas - anyone still in their posh frock or black tie will have to give reasons!! Loanhead Car Park, Black Tap Counteswells - Hares One Liner and Tongue Lasher A

836 - Sun 29 Nov 1998 - Kemnay Bowling Club (55) - Hares: JC & Fi Fi - Scribe: Hubcap

Run 836

Sun 29 Nov 1998


Hares JC & Fifi

The pack gathered in the car park with a touch of frost on the ground and the sun in the sky, "Could this really be an Aberdeen Hash run at the end of November?", Hashers were heard to ask!

The circle was called with no GM in sight, so having been volunteered to do it your scribe did some spectacularly ineffective shouting and some semblance of a blob/circle appeared. Six Virgins and Visitors were welcomed to the Hash (remember the number for later!).

The RA presented Struth with her 150th run sweat shirt and she was joined by Wild Local, who apparently should now be known as Nearly Dead and asked whether he is carrying his prick or not (!).

The GM eventually arrived citing sibling foot wear (wellies or trainers) as the reason for his tardiness - see kids are useful for some things after all. At this point I forgot the plot and didn't award the role of scribe to anyone, so hence why I'm doing it.

Well the run started with every man and his dog (even in the absence of a single pooch) claiming that they were responsible for the fine weather. Mutterings of using up the whole of Aberdeen's supply of virgin just for one run as being excessive! The Hares had warned us that it was longer than average, and it certainly turned out that way, even for the Walkie-Talkies! There were lots of long back checks which kept the FRB's busy. By the time we arrived at the beer check the common theme was that the Hares were being extraordinarily cunning and/or surprisingly fit! The beers and assorted chocolates were consumed with relish, but appeared to go straight to Swampy's head as she spent the whole check falling down the small grass bank and then climbing back up it! Young Man arrived late and hot and bothered - claimed he had got lost! I'm sure that we can think of a good reason for next week.

Milling around in the car park at the end the GM called the circle only to find that one RA was still missing, but we had Mega so he just shouted a bit louder and asserted his iron fist control. Very impressive. Mega decided that he wanted a respectful circle so handed out a down-down to the Count straight away for talking – there's a surprise. There was then a torrent of down-downs:

The Hares - good run.

Tongue Lasher - The cleptomaniac from Friday's party who went off with someone else's handbag with house, car and works keys in it!

Umpire – for trying to provide subtitles when Mega had a hiccup in his English.

Wim-a-Way and Swampy - for mud slinging, not a sin in itself, but they hit the RA!

C(O)unt - was awarded the soiled bra to wear on the next run – a sort of Cinderella activity to find out who it fits - 2AM knows, but isn't telling - yet.

Bungy Finger & Wild Local – for hanging around at the back of the pack and talking about Everest like a pair of smelly old sherpas.

Visitors and Virgins - only 4 out of the original 6, never did find out what happened to the other 2, but JC seemed reluctant to go and search for them! Strange that!

Hash shits went to JC and Little Shit. Trevor talked us through his vasectomy and looked for volunteers to help him clear up his remaining tadpoles - female volunteers only!

After all that the last 4 walkie-talkies came in, including Viv so she went straight into down-down mode and awarded four in one go:

Rob Nash was named "Nob Rash”!

I got hauled in for my engagement;

Carol one of the virgins was named “Big Breaths" as she didn't like the sound of here own heavy breathing whilst she was running! (She did later hint that there was more to it than that, but we'll look for volunteers to get to the bottom of that and report back later.

Bev was brought in to celebrate her pregnancy - at which point little Shit asked if she would mind helping him out now that she was pregnant already!

All the way from engagements through pregnancy, vasectomy to near death! There is after all life in the old Hash yet! After all that it was back to JC and Fifi's for some food beer and gossip well into the afternoon.



835 - Sun 22 Nov 1998 - Huntly, Joint run with Elgin (17) - Hares: 2am & Small Tripple - Scribe: Tonguelasher


Run number 835

Sun 22 Nov 1998

Hares : 2am & Small Triple

9.30 Sunday morning - Ugh - Megaphone juggling two cases of lager and Sergio only partly dressed, Tongue Lasher trying to hide the 'shit head' turd hat brought back from Oban and here is Little Shit in skimpy shorts - long time no see. The Rock It family appear and One liner with offspring.

Inverurie for the next pick up - JC & Fi Fi.

Little Shit's account of this de-nutting kept the conversation one sided for most of the journey - 36 ejaculations he must have to 'flush out the system' how's that for an excuse for a leg over – '10 years that will take' Silly Cow told him – would that be 10 Rocky Horror Shows??

Much beer scoofed and tales exchanged and here we are at Huntly with reception committee of Batty and Julek complete with camera to record the arrival!

Our train pulls away, but where are half of AH3 – Rock It? his brother? Jan? the children? (& four of them), One Liner? - not a sight of them - only the tail of the train as it disappears out of sight. "To the rescue' quoth Batty and All Because - car boots are emptied of rucksacks and beer and all sorts - To the rescue 2 comes Harley and cars are despatched to retrieve the enthusiastic travellers from Keith station. Obviously eager to get their money's worth from British Rail! (Do Aberdeen Considine know of this?

A partner missing Huntly station??). Perhaps avoiding future charges of the ankle biters, eh Struth?

The Elgin Hash arrive - 3 nay 4 members and a promise (or threat) that Terry is to arrive by train - White Trash and Penguin and our illustrious hares – 2am and Small Triple make up a merry throng as the circle is called on this fresh and pleasant Sunday morning in the wild wilderness of Huntly.

Pre run down down to

Tongue Lasher, her 50th run then on on over the bridge to the first check.

Rockit is off like a rocket and Little Shit is back on form - he dives into the bushes - for a pee?

No, only 35 to go along the river and across the golf course. As usual I lose sight of the front runners after 10 paces, but Checkin Chicken' Little Shit plays a stormer with the check markings.

Hash Kid Camille and I follow the flour past the hotel (how tempting to stop there) and on on. On up the lane along the picturesque Huntly countryside and through the forest to the Chocolate Check - Harley off in another direction altogether. No chocolate for him!!

At last the beer check but where is the beer - found at last, the usual refreshment slurped and on back along the long track to the hotel and the promise of lunch.

Down downs after lunch and they went to;

One Liner and Rock It for trying to get value for money on their family rail card and touring Scotland

The other couple escape me.

The 'shit-head' turd was to be awarded to Terry from Elgin, but 'Little Shit's account of “The Snip' won the day the "pee” stops calculated to be many along the way - Silly Cow - good news - only 12 to go!!

On back to the railway station with a display of fireworks on the way.

A pleasant and liquid journey home and on on to Megaphone's for carry out pizza - great day out - thanks hares

On on Tongue Lasher

834 - Sun 15 Nov 1998 - Ord of Tillyfurie (27) - Hares: Drillbit - Scribe: Swampy

Sunday 15 November 1998 - Tillyfermies

Hare: Drillbit

RA: Silver

Thanks to 'Rock-it, I'm your scribe, my dream come true - not! Oh! Well here goes.....

It seems as though everyone was deceived by the sunshine, especially ‘Hill-ary’, driving up in his BMW convertible without the roof up - poser!

Having waited far too long for more hashers to turn up we set off on an uphill struggle, well I for one was hungover, although some I think were still drunk, ‘Crag-mouse', 'Sergio' to name but two.

It wasn't long before we reached our first check. As per usual ‘Young man' being the athlete he is sprinted off and once again was wrong, but our faithful “Wotzoff got us back on trail. Then a well-earned 'crabbie'? Stop to warm us up, although virgin runner Lisa felt she was 'hot' enough, a cold shower for her I think! Ha!

On over a few more hills, with many hashers falling over. Why? Well I don't know, maybe they were - still drunk. Then to the beer stop where some kids, YES you 'Olymprick and Co, decided that it would be amusing to call 'timber' and knock a few trees down.

Homeward bound the carpark was then in our reach, well, for the majority. A small number of us Wotzoff who went from being first to the last runners............ finish..

All hashers commented on the run being great, well done to ‘Drilbit

Pre-run Down down: Went to 'Hill-ary' for turning up in his open-top convertible.

Down downs went to:

  • The virgin: Lisa who having received her down down was disappointed to be told by 'Silver that Young man was the only eligible bachelor under 30yrs.

  • The Hare: Drillbit who took far too long to down his down down...

  • Young man’: for ringing "Shag nasty' and asking him who his tailor was, he was advised by "Silver to buy some deodorant.

  • “Sergio': (The umpire?): for trying to push a door open, which said 'push' on it, only to be informed by his boss that 'push' meant press button to open door.

  • White Trash: for commenting at the beginning of the run "I know where we are”

  • 'Hash Shit went to; 'Wotzoff for being last on the run, after doing an extra detour with ‘Young man’.

On on


833 - Sun 08 Nov 1998 - Kirkton of Duris (32) - Hares: Shaky - Scribe: SansO & Lois Noble



Having only recently been defiled and coming with a virgin (it wasn't just the way I was ignorant I nod my head having no idea what he's on about - I'd only just figured out that the blobs of flour are not to mark the trail but to get you well and truly lost. My further enquiries then lead me to find out that the onerous task would have fallen to Sans O if he'd bothered to take time to shave.

Having completely missed the circle and 2 minute silence, which I'm told, was shattered

The justification for this undignified noise being "well I didn't do it deliberately - they all looked very stupid standing there.” We then set off.

Where to? Uphill, of course, then down a steep embankment into a very wet river. There was no stopping Drillbit, who reminiscing over his time in KL thought he might attract some more leeches, but this time place them more strategically. The rest of us followed The Body's example and waited for the On-On for fear of having to re-cross the river. Meanwhile Sans 0, The Penguin and Harley were wimping out and crossed over a bridge. Sans O decided that he would rejoin the toughies declaring he was again one of us, unfortunately the "How lovely it is to still have dry feet" blew his credibility. The Penguin and Harley thought they would try to outwit the rest of us by taking a short cut (See later).

Onwards we went to a very civilised Whisky/Crabbies and shortbread stop (the Hair of the Dog and breakfast), followed by a beer check and fashionable funky fruit flavoured colour co-ordinated softies (thanks for the bottles) then On-On to a 1-------- -0----------------1------------------g finish.

Down Downs went to:

  • Farmers wife because her husband left her.

  • Elaine, the virgin, colour co-ordinated with matching balloon.

  • Sonic, who ran behind two Harriettes staring at their lycra clad bottoms.

  • Meanwhile The Penguin and Harley finally returned from their short cut, bleeding profusely, wet, miserable and having missed all the fun. Shame!

  • Thruppennies took abuse for washing her trainers before the run. Had she known she could have washed them in the rivers she wouldn't have bothered?

  • Top tip for Harriettes: When your cooker is dirty tell him you need a new kitchen.

  • The Hare, Shaky, got one (what?) for a rubbish run and crap softies.

  • Hash Shits went to Young Man, who really wanted the other one (story of his life) and Drillbit, who doesn't need a new kitchen even though his washing machine doesn't work. He apparently wriggles around in the bath with his clothes on to wash them.

Moral of the tale: NEVER be the last to turn up.

Lois (with help? From Sans 0)

12-NOV-98 18:21

44 91224 861702


832 - Sun 01 Nov 1998 - Collieston (43) - Hares: Lone Ranger & Silver - Scribe: The Penguin

Sunday 01 November 1998 - Forvie National Nature Reserve

Hares : Lone Ranger, Silver

Pre Run Hot off the plane from Jakarta some 25 degrees centigrade warmer than Aberdeen I checked the webshite to find that this weeks run was to be about one mile offshore in the North Sea. On the assumption that someone else had fixed up some kind of boat to get us there I awaited my chauffeur White Trash who knew as much about the run location as I did and took me to Forvie Centre and an empty car park. We headed for the harbour to find the boat but found the pack bouncing about to keep warm. Visitors Carol, Gurham and Martin from Durban were introduced and a story told about Viv fancying a suave debonaire fancy costume on Friday evening until she realised that it contained the body of Michelin Man.

The Run The run set off not for a boat but along the coast heading south with a couple of checks one of which enabled the knitting section to get way in front to wait for the runners to ascend a cliff from the beach below. The next part of the trail sent the pack in all directions particularly White Trash who was last seen heading for Stonehaven. The sneaks who hung around the hare followed the short cut inland back towards the Forvie Centre for my second visit of the day and down to the road. Here great debate took place whilst 2 AM rain left, then right, then left, then?. “F--- this" said Olymprick heading towards the church accompanied by The Penguin “We'll take a run along the cliffs North and pick up the trail” which we did and stumbled upon the best beer check that we can remember in a long time totally protected from the weather and with a grand view and smell of the sea. It is a pity that less than half the pack ventured into this magnificent cave with drinks stashed about half a mile back into the bowels of the cliff. Well done Hares!

The Circle Scribes frost bitten fingers had no control over the iced up pen - (you can have it back next week Shaky) - which scribbled indecipherable notes in some unknown language. The only one of sense was Ball Tweaker who hugged her pussy to keep her fingers warm. Maybe scribe should have done the same. Viv showed Zero Tolerance towards talkers (rightly so) whilst Rock-It told us that the hash was poorer to the extent of £79 something plus VAT to compensate some farmer for losing a herd of Aberdeen Angus a couple of weeks back. (I thought Farmer was in Perth Oz?)

50 runs were achieved by Hilary still in fancy dress pretending to be from Baywatch (Bellamy would have been quite jealous) and

150 runs for One Liner who admitted to having paid 150 times without ever having to complete a run. Hopefully he'll eventually grow into his one size-fits-all sweatshirt. Apparently on Friday night 2 AM admitted to his fetish for Viv's magnificent bi.. designed by a well known firm of structural engineers. Richard Branson would have made it with that much material in his balloon. This must have been some party. Young Man's tight bum was approved in silky hot pants and Dicky Bird who turned up in normal clothes gradually donned the bits of fancy dress discarded by others as the evening wore on. One tired member was Cragmouse who having arrived home at 6.30 AM couldn't remember the name of the guy she'd been with. Swampy called her a trollop and then admitted to her own weekend in the City of Sin, Amsterdam with Megaphone. Olymprick was accused of bouncing some other young trollop on his knee or was he bouncing on the trollop's knee?

The Hashit award was a choice between the moaning faced Little Shit or the driving instructor One Liner who smashed into Sonic's car while reversing in the car park. One Liner (Fender Bender?) won but is looking for a good lawyer to defend his case.

831 - Sun 25 Oct 1998 - Blackhall Forest (27) - Hares: Rockit - Scribe: Scumbag

830 - Sun 18 Oct 1998 - Ghillies Lair, De Bridge (33) - Hares: Lifeboats & The Body - Scribe: Silver

Run Number 830 - Ghillie's Lair

Hares Lifeboats & The Body

After three weeks of married life it's nice to have a change of activity - Sunday morning hash.

Oh dear, I'm late, couldn't find the dog - so I'm scribe and don't know what the pre-run down down was – “What” say's Little Shit – “No pre-run down down” – "they've changed the format".

Lifeboats seem to be the GM, and off we go - Ball Tweaker and I reckon they'll do the loop so we do a good short cut to be met over the Brig O'Dee by Little Shit and Drillbit.

Joy Boy ties himself around the lamp post with the Joy Dog and seems to have words with the wife. The pack surprisingly seems to stay together as we go along the railway line (that is – was a railway line) whilst Scumbag tells us of his wild highland party.

Meanwhile Tonguelasher chases the Joydog in her look-alike t-shirt (Edit, Edit, Edit - Edithare) and the Pink Panther has disappeared with Aids and Smiler.

Up to Johnstone Gardens - very picturesque and back down more tarmac to the Joy's garage for cocktails. Yes – reminds me of my recent Caribbean trip.

Down down to Olymprick whose strip partner turned him down in KL. Enjoyed the sausage rolls but!!!!!!!! - did wonder what Joy Boy does with his wardrobe of boiler suits, and why is there a blue loo in the garage?

On back to the car park

Down downs to :

• Virgins: Colline, Rab (new trainers and Shitmouth (friend of ALCH's) is this man Hash

Material Alch??

JC: for strip joining in the act in KL (Stipping for 5,700 people)

Joy Boy: needs dog obedience owner's training

The Body: for saying Rab was shaggable at my (no Viv, it was John's too!! – Edithare) Wedding

• The Hares: The Body & Lifeboats

One Liner: For talking work on the Sabbath

• Hashshit: Drillbit for being a money grabbing bastard in KL

On On Silver (Yes please!!!!!)

829 - Sun 11 Oct 1998 - Drum Castle (43) - Hares: Monty & Bog Bonker - Scribe: ShagNasty

Aberdeen Hash House Harriers

Run Number: # 829

Hares: Monty & Diane

Date: 11th October 1998

GM: Rockit

RA: Megaphone

Scribe: Shag Nasty


No nicey nice hand scripted scribe this week with pretty pics for those stupid bastards who cannot read. I am on my way back to Venezuela to get warm again. Turned up at Peterculter for the weekly run and was greeted by the most nauseous smell, Hash Drunk's skiddies maybe?? Not what I needed after a heavy night on the Real Ales.

We had to park in a shitty field and get our nice clean cars covered in agricultural manure. We were blessed by sunshine which made the running attire selection difficult as the run was in and out of the woods. Dress went from Little Shit in Tee shirt to Hippo in full mountain assault kit, complete with sprog in the haversack.

Harley griping on about who has and who hasn't paid the run fee.

Lifeboats looking very bloated from a late night Fish Supper in the middle of Justice Mill Lane.

Pre run Down Down went to Its All Because for being a Toyboy, or something or other.

On On was called and the eager pack raced after the flour.

We had been warned about clambering over 9 foot deer fencing and in all honesty didn't give a toss. I fell arse over tit as I never listened to the advice, so be warned in future!!!! My better half, Ann (Short Cut ?), was running around holding on to her third finger left hand not wanting to lose that expensive solitaire I had recently placed upon it; I had threatened to cut off her body bits previously if she did!!

After a while we came across the crazy stampeding cows running all over the cosy steading conversions with their highly manicured twee lawns. Rockit was trying to knock one household up but to no avail. White Trash was trying to close a gate after the herd had fled! There were a few signs that Aberdeen Hasher had been to Interhash with Tiger Feet proudly wearing an advert to the fact that he had survived the Ball Breaker, what do you mean??? Smiler & The Umpire were running around well checking out at most checks. The Body however gave a less than perfect performance, in fact words like lethargic spring to mind!! Would it have anything to do with the fact of watching daytime soaps, Richard and Judy, Rikki Lake et al during the day causes serious malfunctioning of the brain and the metabolism?? Pink Panther, Mrs T, Batty, and Cinders were omnipresent throughout the run looking eager as hell, three Weetabix this morning or was it just the excitement of being out in the fresh air?? Swampy was dumped into the swamps again, she loves getting dirty!!!

The Beer Check was in an idyllic setting by the side of a little lake (Scottish Loch). The sun was beating down and the air was silent apart from the hissing of the tinnies. Young Man was obviously affected by the ambience and decided to attempt to walk on the water. Michelin Man was looking ever so rough at this point, something about drink, women, beer, Hoagies, 3 am or all of the above! The tranquil setting was destroyed by the untimely arrival of Olymprick back from KL Interhash. Did anyone miss him???

Downs Downs went to Shag Nasty & a Dutch Looking Bird for child abuse. Some other Down Downs were given but I wasn't listening by now as I was freezing!! Hash Shit to Klingon for not providing the Hash Scribe yet again, Scribes be warned!!!

Still freezing our bits off we headed for The Ploughman, which was like a Darbie & Joan Club full of greedy old buggers stuffing their fat faces with meat and two veg.



827 - Sun 27 Sep 1998 - Comodore Hotel (33) - Hares: The Penguin - Scribe: Kingon

826 - Sun 20 Sep 1998 - Forest of Birse, Finzean, AGM (45) - Hares: Farmer, Harley & Wee Willy - Scribe: Rats & Shirley Valentine




Summer finally arrived as the Hash + assorted sprogs/dog travelled by executive coach to the Forest of Birse - was this summer 1998 or had winter just been & gone. Amid glorious scenery, the heather in bloom, the day’s activities commenced. The driver assumed the role of David Bailey for the mandatory photos and surprise surprise WEE WILLY was awarded by neo virgin SILVER his Down Down for theoretically his last AH3 run prior to his departure to that cauldron of excitement - HOLLAND. *** all advice on Wedding Nights to be forwarded directly to SILVER ***

At this stage some concern was expressed as the bus left with all the sprogs - memories of the harrowing scene in Schindlers List came swiftly to mind.

On On was called and the pack set off in the vague direction of Aboyne - up hill of course. Within 5 minutes serious wailing and weeping was heard from big brave Offshore Tiger JOY BOY - had fallen into a hole and claimed to have twisted his ankle. 2 key points were at this stage agreed:

ALL BECAUSE was big enough to carry the miserable wretch if he survived

THE BODY confirmed his insurance was enough for a major wake/piss up if he didn't

After this fortunate regroup was able to network with nubile new American runner BETH, soon to marry an Aberdonian she met in Alaska, surprise/surprise he was only there to avoid paying taxes like the rest of us poor B*******, and of course was living in the cheapest Youth Hostel in the USA. (All advice to SILVER please copy BETH).

Onwards and upwards to the summit of the hill where glorious views of Lochnagar, Mount Keen and Bennachie were made even more pleasurable with Bounty Bars provided by the Hares. Too much consternation a GPS gadget was brought out (where the F**** were we) with SANS O showing keen interest, obviously the anticipated cut backs at Shell were prompting thoughts of changing his occupation from Driller to Mountain Guide !!! The fact that Shell Personnel Officer "SLASH AND BURN WILD LOCAL" (yes the fat one in the blue T shirt) was ticking off hashers names on a clip board provided further evidence to support SANS O's career change. After confirmation that we were somewhere in the Northern Hemisphere the trail followed an environmentally friendly nylon rope which lead to the downward track.

Scribe alias RATS (the even fatter one with no shirt) then sped off like a gazelle passing some asthmatic mountain bikers on the way up - obviously rich punters based on their Cannondales with full suspension. WILD LOCAL checked if they were Shell employees as if so they were quite clearly being paid too much and hence suitable as dole queue cannon fodder. BALL TWEAKER then seriously excited RATS by an invitation to play around with her next week - thoughts of Oval Office type activities were soon dispelled when I found out she meant playing golf at Kemnay.

On On downwards to the river crossing/Beer Check where thankfully the sprogs were found, obviously the guards had found some useful work for them after all. YOUNG MAN and SWAMPY at this stage engaged in some tactile water sports, with SWAMPY winning the Miss Wet T Shirt comp as the sole participant, the water was obviously very cold. NON PARTICIPANTS

SHARON (claims she is not from Essex & has not dyed her hair brown) was encouraged to compete but declined due to some unfair advantages.

LIFEBOATS was clearly ineligible due to definite advantages

THE BODY did not enter due to her small disadvantages.

HUMMING BIRD - definite contender if she had only come in time

By now hunger had set in and the pack followed the ON INN to the bus at Glen Tanner where the FRB's, PENGUIN & HIPPO had already drank most of the beers. Started to network again with all the new runners who I would love to be able to introduce as my nieces.

Numerous DOWN DOWNS Awarded - most memorable was HUBCAP nobly accepting his floozy's due to her claim that she is allergic to beer. What was the price extracted in return we wonder??

Back onto the bus - destination FARMERS/ORA QUINE's magnificent executive residence overlooking Banchory golf course. Yet again the strategy of paying for a marquee in anticipation of bad weather had paid dividends. TWO MOONS was stuck into preparation of the excellent burgers/sausages, mega numbers of beers were sunk over the next few hours. Bets were taken as to how many injuries would result from the garden swing. Most relaxed hasher was MAHARAJAH alias MICHELIN MAN, sitting under the tree being attended to by his gorgeous concubine. Final rumour overheard was MONTY, considering returning to Canada as his required prescription for VIAGRA was available on their NHS system. Saddest event was OLYMPRICK failing yet again to seduce welcome visitor HUMMING BIRD. RATS was kept well under control with the presence of his other half MRS RATS, and taken home in good time to save overdue strain on his liver.

The 1999 HASH MISMANAGEMENT were duly elected after the scandalous suggestion that CINDERS was the preferred candidate for Scribe of The Year vs. RATS. The compromise solution of RATS having her DOWN DOWN was considered acceptable.


GM: Rockit

RA's: Megaphone/Silver

Hash Cash: Harley

On Sec: One Liner

Inter Hash: Olymprick

Head Hare: Lone Ranger

Hash Beer: Umpire

Edit Hare: Tongue Lasher/Pink Panther

Haberdasher: Hash Hubcap

Raffle: Young Man

Social Sex: Lifeboats/Two Moons

JM: The Body + Swampy + 2AM

HASH HOUND: Bess - elected unopposed


9/10 - no Hashit awarded, or did I miss something???

ON ON - RATS (did I really write this drivel???)

The Walkers Tale

After dropping off the hill walkers, It was back on the bus for the rest of us........ a motley collection of children, dogs, rather sleepy women what had they all been up to? Two Moons and Harley. We then retraced the convoluted road taken earlier, dropped off the Ainsley Harriet of the hash, and set off towards Glen Tanner. Our first incident was in true Wild West style...... we came upon some rough cows making a bid for freedom along the road. The farmer stopped all the traffic... ... all 2 cars and our bus, and sprinted Oi over the horizon, cheered on by all the kids, in a bid to outflank his beasts. After about 10 minutes, he had overtaken the cows who shambled back along the road doing what cows do, too loud cheers from the kids. Bess the Joydog, looked on and planned her career as a famous cattle herder.

The rest of the journey was to the accompaniment of the Spice Hash Horrors....when they were not involved in ethnically clensing the flies! Bess looked on and planned her career as a vermin exterminator.

On arrival at Glen Tanner, the bus driver decided to drive up the footpath, as he was so bewitched by the romantic strains of the violin played by a beautiful young lass beside the dry stane dyke (no, not that kind of dyke). After removing a few panels from the front half of the bus, courtesy of a large boulder, the bus was returned to the parking lot, and we all piled out. It was at this point that Jan found the perfect excuse to return to the bus for yet another spell of shot eye....... Rockit had not put her mountaineering boots in the busi!!!! We set off up the 11 trail, following the plentiful flour trail, and Bess soon got the hang of hashing ie you sort of mill around making a lot of noise then at a given signal charge off pretending to be really fit. She was soon planning her career 85 the star of Interhash 200?.

After a gently undulating walk, jog, sprint along the path, we reached the beer check and water crossing. The search was now on for the ale. The kids searched the cottage, pronounced it empty of drinks, but full of gunpowder,) and eventually found the bags and got stuck in. Bess entered into this with Great Spirit, had great difficulty jumping over ferns 6 times her height, but could already see herself as a search and rescue dog. James and Thomas are planning to train her to find the beer.

It was only a matter of a few minutes before the hill walkers' came charging in swam the foaming river and got struck into the beer.

It was a lovely spot, with lots of Opportunities for splashing those who were still dry. Some of the kids started paddling. The Joy kids were forbidden to by Mum, Waited until Dad had downed his first beer, and as the smile spread over his face, got his approval and Waded in. Bess watched and learned an important lesson about family politics. She was now planning her career as a highly paid and much sought after marriage guidance counsel dog.

After about 20 minutes, it was decided that we had better return to the bus, as the beer was finished, even though half the pack had still not arrived. When we got back to the bus, they were all there, having got lost with the hare, Wee Willie, and taken a short long cut back. How the only problem was Sonic, who seemed to have disappeared with his kids. Ex Delilah was not bothered, except that he had the car keys...... By this time, Bass was planning her career as a famous blood hound, with opportunities for tame every Sunday morning!

Thanks Harley and Willie from all the walkers.

Shirley Valentine.

825 - Mon 14 Sep 1998 - Loirston (62) - Hares: Cinders & Aids - Scribe: Becca

825a - Sun 13 Sep 1998 - Glencoe Stag/Hen weekend - Hares: Silver & Lobe Ranger - Scribe: Terry Tubby

Trip to Glencoe for the "Shag” Weekend - in honour of Silver and the Lone Ranger.

'Are you here with the Hen Party?' asked the receptionist at the Clachaig innocently. "No, we're here for the 'Shag Weekend" replied the Hasher - and so the tone of the weekend was set!! The jolly bunch arrived at intervals, filling the bunkhouse - early-birds 'bagging the best bunks. The Brave Baroid Bunch (girlies) were happy to share with the hash-stags initially, but common sense prevailed and they moved camp after experiencing the familiar sounds of beer laden male hashers and realising their close shave with a fate worse than getting the hash shit.

By eleven o'clock all were well under way with hash gossip at the Inn - conversation ranged from marriage to ridge walks, from transvestites to "windy" hashers, and from shower and bog logistics to which hashers are shagging and shaggable.

Breakfast was as always, lunch grub made, then Little shit and Hippo set off early to capture the ridge 'backwards' (or did we do it backwards??). The sleepy-heads and hung-overs (innocents!!) were soon ready to go, under the helpful guidance of Lone Ranger and Joy Boy, Virgin walkers quoted "we'll never be able to do that" - group photo - and off we go up an up an up (the easy bit we later discovered).

Volumes could be written about the walk, climb, wet, dry, views, sleet, mist, excitement, near deaths (well we have to put in a little exaggeration) THE DESCENT - THE AWAITING PINT!! It was truly a memorable experience for all – the on to Michelin Man's chalet for a drinks, snacks, chat - thanks John & Cathy.

Quick change, showers in turn and off to the hen/stag celebration - stags to a great fish/veggy restaurant (conversation to remain secret). The hens (Tartan Totties on Tour) disrupted a sedate ‘Last Munro' party by letting them see how to let the hair down!! - Conversation based on which was most shaggable hasher - conversation lasted 5 seconds - couldn't think of one. Stag's comments - don't talk about it, just ask for a shag and get on with it, this is the 90's girls.

The group now joined, and AH3 demonstrated their presence (not quite their singing talents) with renditions of 'High up on Sunshine Mountain' – so high up Joy Boy fell off the table and no, he does not wear anything under his kilt except what is in good working order, and 'Father Abraham'. The 'locals' and the 'Last Munro Party' could only sit po-faced for so long. Vivid memories Joy Boy in Houston returned to TerryTubby of the time Joy Boy entertained the crowds in a night club somewhere out there. Bet he didn't have his bag of prawns there Tubs!!

Later on hashers were herded into an afterhours drinking room where someone else along with the band decided to sing a Jazz Ballad - it would have been great if the punters had been sober but the moment was lost in the alcohol charged atmosphere.

Lastly, many hashers had to walk the mile back to the bunkhouse along a very dark road and this occurred without incidents which anyone is prepared to talk about.

A mouse invaded any hope of a good night's sleep, or was it a resurrected prawn brought back to life by intense friction being generated by hashers on plastic, anti-wet-the-bed sheets. Lucky All Because was safely in the hands of hotel and Batty, calling for Hughie all night - must have been those prawns again.

The Sunday run started after a scramble to assemble order in the bunkhouse - our landlady wakening us like schoolchildren at 8 am!! The weary band circled at 10.30 with a pre-run down down for the bride & groom to be (one wee one with the beard and without the dog, and the beauty with the red vail). Civilians watch with amazement as the 10.40 am (bride and groom both 10 minutes late) pint disappeared with amazing speed.

Nobody knew the whereabouts of the missing Batty & Julek, but one or two were heard discussing something about the coast guard being called out to rescue some keen but very gullible hashers in the middle of the North Sea. Thirty or so keen hashers set off with the usual enthusiasm, especially with the sunny weather.

The run was short, scenic and sweet much to the disappointment of the hardy fell runners, with no rivers to cross, or fence to scale. The beer stop was a real beauty spot - no, the lake, not the mooners in the front row of the photos.

Down Downs were in the hands of RA Rock-it

The mountain men:

Hippo - wearing and using an altimeter built into his watch Joy Boy and Tellytubby for working out the best route up some obscure mountain peak in Nepal

All because for underwater camera, inflatable cushion to sit on and 101 things to do with a used fruit tea bag in a survival situation not to mention the ski poles.

The mountain girls:

For their first Munro - Karen and Angie (christened Cragmouse) for squeaking all the way along the route and for doing so well

Keith for the best blow job in history - blowing up the double lilo and taking an hour to do it - christened Hindenberg

Orra Quine for ironing her tracksuit trews and Batman impersonations at the Hen night

Hares for haring Michelin Man and Cathy

Shaky for trying to light the electric fire with a box of matches

Hashit - The Umpire Now handled 'Sergio' for being a Sergio man and climbing 2 Munros in a 'designer' shell suit, trainers and knitted hat

Ones that got away...someone for being the second most shaggable names....

Val for stomping around the bunkhouse on Saturday night completely out her box looking for Shaky and muttering 'what's the effing point of being effing married if you can never the effing !#@??+%!!!'

The Body and Klingon for a serious discussion on breasts, and other pleasures of the flesh......

Silver for getting married and leading a non-hasher astray in the Clachaig something along these lines:

Nonhasher: '.oh wight, sow it's a Stag/hen naght and yor getting mawied to thaat guy in the kilt standing on the taaaable!' (she was from down south somewhere)

Viv' No that's Joy Boy. I'm marrying the bearded man at the bar who is....... kissing all the harriettes!!! Joooohhnnn!!!!!! Ugh he's kissing Rock-It! now'

Nonhasher 'seoow, tell me is it two what they saay abowt Scottish men and what is under the kilt......'

Viv 'Come with me hen'..takes nonhasher by the hand across to Joy Boy and shoves it up his plaid. '00000000!!! My looooowwdd!!!!

On on

Scribe - Terry Tubs with a little assistance for others Down Down write up by Rock-It!

824 - Mon 07 Sep 1998 - Durris Forest (54) - Hares: Hubcap & Hot Flush - Scribe: Bellamy

Run 824. 7th Sept, c/o Hubflush and Hotcap

At Woodside of Durris according to the Hares

Dens of Durris according to the road signs

shiggy of Durris if you followed the OS coordinates.

A penultimate misty Monday mudfest. Headlights flickering through the Haaarrrr, arrgh, arrrch (dam phlegm), then lurching into Swampy ditch to park. Then re-parking on the verge after Swampy makes a surprised objection (doesn't she know how Real Men park their bicycles?). Triple circles organised (one around a hoarse, harassed hare, one round Sans O frantically doling out Rocky Horror tickets, and the usual last-minute one round Harley) before Hubcap managed to gain supremacy. The Umpire tried chemical warfare to disperse the pre-circle by exposing a fully-occupied HashShit:- Techtalk about uric acid accumulation from previous occupants can't innocent recipients of megawafts of concentrated BO. Wild Local downplayed rumours Mrs WL had unbeknownst taken his kit out of his car.

Flasher may look young, and certainly attracts a startling breadth of disciples, but he's made his 50th. He had his HRT patch on (denying vigorously that it was a pacemaker battery implant), and paid the price of forgetting the mugs. In passing:- A warning.

The Joint Master decreed that anyone found commenting favourable on Swampy's ma/memories will now have them held against them at the next run.

The run:- Saunas consist of lashing yourself with wet tree branches whilst sweating profusely. Doing the same through the Forestry Commission's best seems to miss the point (although it nevertheless retains eternal popularity with sado-hares).

Arrrghshiitttdamomthatbloodyshiggy. Jeasusss Lois! Whattheshiggy have you stuck those long legs in? (mind you, the smell failed in comparison with The Umpire's HashShit). For those purveyors of gossip, please note Sans O later gallantly offered a remedial private domestic hot shower service.

Gossipers could also note that JoyBoy confessed to inside knowledge of Young Man's bedding. Introduces a niggling little worry how Joyboy really did get that handle...

A rented-out Olymprick outfit was found running in reverse. No connection was assumed when later the 4-bag beer check was found ravished. HotCap/HubFlash however redeemed themselves with the Real Men by stocking the beercheck with 1 litre cans of high-strength beer.

What must you never do to your partner when making love? A quiet, peaceful, calming On In followed through a misty, murky twilight. Dampness beading onto moist bodies. Very soothing to northern afsouls. Phone him.

DownDowns under Joy Boy for Late-travelling Drillbit & Flasher, LoneRanger for Silver telling the Minister that they'd decided to get married now, after living together for 16 years, and the kids having left home (not the right answer), 3 visiting Catweezle, carpet-cleaner-swigging Michelin Man and Little Shit for sharing their joint 1001 run, 5 virginous Ben, Lisa, Cynlle, Intravenus (a handled Virgin?) and ZutAlors YetAnotherFrog, LeVirgin for something with someone, the saunaHares, and finally the prestigious, seriously claggy, HashShits to... Bill for trying to sneak off to Bermuda and ... the curvaceous Cerri for sneaking on Bill. Hmmmm...

“President Clinton! Excuse me! Are you aware that Miss Lewinski has just testified under oath that you have a surprisingly small organ?”, “Damn that girl! Her and her big mouth."

OnInn at The Old Mill, with all the usual smelly socks, bodies and discarded clothing in the carpark; the race for ordering food before mine host goes uncommunicative; maneuvering to be always expectantly-last to the bar; discoursing on what to wear to the RockyHorrorShow; and receiving detailed instructions for how to get thrown out by the management of His Majesties' Theatre next Thursday.. On Up


823 - Mon 31 Aug 1998 - Kirkhill Forest (65) - Hares: Joy Boy & The Body - Scribe: Beep Beep


A hash meet with aroma provided by Terrytubby! On a Revlon special – for dogs. Air pollution was at an all-time high downwind from the MAN.

Opening downers was provided for Farmer, for a pair of bright shining shoes carrying him on their virgin run and something about a 6 month break from the hash.

HARE: Joy Boy

A run through the forests near somewhere, going through an area surrounding Aberdeen up to the top of the hill and back down again.... when they were up they were up, and when they were down they downed and when they were only half way there a beer check came around. I could write a song about this. A good run accompanied with the usual banter.

Down downs by the virgins (?) and visitors followed by Harry for frigging at sea or swigging at sea or rigging at sea. Sounds like he could have made an appearance on Megaphones Hash porn site which has had more visitors than the, the, the ....when they were up they were up, when they downed they downed, when they were only half way up they shared the porn around. Other downs included some not so old gits and the RA for having sex (is that the rats arse?) or as that for a lost Lawrence of Aberdeen - a long lost desert worshipper destined to spend 40 years in the deserts of Aberdonian culture? Then of course we have next month’s feature in Megaphones porn site and that is all the way from France - under the pseudonym Carnet. She left, then right, then right off....

On On to Bucksburn manor, an establishment of fine ales, good wine, joyous company, a shelter from the storm where friends meet, a place of happiness and light, a bastion of civilisation in a world of darkness, at least that's what the brochure said.


Scribbler: beep beep

822 - Mon 24 Aug 1998 - Hill of 3 stones, Stonehaven (49) - Hares: One Liner & No Handle -Scribe: Fiona Gillan (White Diamond)


RUN 822 - 24-8-98


Another fine, sunny, late summers' evening where the hash chose to meet in the stygian gloom of a pine forest.

After a joint down down to One Liner & Little Shit for keeping a record number of joint run numbers Smiler got her 200th run award (no down down – no next to skin).

We were on our way to the kamikaze start of a run that got ever more suicidal as it progressed. The hash ran along the only stretch of the Slug Road where it is actually possible for cars to overtake each other - braying and dodging the onslaught of 80 mph maniacs determined to take us out. After running along the most dangerous stretch of road in the country we finally got into a bit of forest

Then we came to the hill of the sharp sticks - a mass of tightly packed Xmas trees negotiable only by midget hunchbacks - and the pine needles being at their seasonal sharpest - to which Joyboy will testify - having left an eye dangling on a branch somewhere. (On aforementioned hill climb, Alison gave Wee Willie an intentional eye-removing whiplash with a pine branch in retaliation for his grabbing her arse when he lost his footing). Anyway after the ascent of the hill of the sharp sticks and the descent of slippery shit and shiggy we reached the beer check to find there was actually some booze left. The final run-in was the only other bit of real run on the run since leaving the Slug Road. Thank fuck for the hash beer and the Diamond White!


  • One visitor from the Congo also given the handle Whip-it because he looked like a macho, pyscho colonial bad bastard who would be comfortable in jack-boots wielding a bull whip and lashing (or shagging) his black slaves.

  • Angie was handled Mermaid after getting soaked with Golden Showers at the West Linton Weekend.

  • Joyboy for his anal aspirations towards Oral Sex (INT Hash) and for vandalizing her ID jacket.

  • Subservient: on behalf of her other half for keeping her smelly tights in his pocket to maintain his sniffing addiction,

  • Hash shit: One Liner for setting a viscous bastard of a hash and poking Joy Boys' eye out.

  • Hippo for wearing a dress. (Word has it that Alison wanted to e-mail One Liner to lodge a complaint about the run. She perhaps needs a hash handle such as Moaning Lisa).

Scribe : White Diamond (Who does not wholly accept responsibility for the above. Any serious objections to the above should be addressed to "Flasher" my contributor over whom I have no control).

821a - Tue 18 Aug 1998 - AH3 Committee Meeting MoM - Scribe: Wee Willie


Present were Wee Willie, Joy Boy, Harley, Olymprick, 3dBits, Tongue Lasher, Rockit, The Body, Hubcap, Mandy Lifeboats, The Umpire, Pink Panther.

Apologies: Silver, Lone Ranger, Drillbit, Flasher, Two Moons, Sonic.

West Coast - Hippo has organised a trip 16th-18th October, Invermoriston,near Fort William, chalets available, details in the Hasheet, and from the man himself. Hashcash to fund booking costs, etc.

Hillwalk - Ball Tweaker is organising a walk, timing TBA.

Boys Nite Out - Slimeball's virtual stagnight to be in the autumn. Hubcap to organise.

Tarts on Tour - More girlie tours coming-up, including Edinburgh (early November 98), Dublin (April 99).

Nash Hash (Aug 99) - It was agreed that Glasgow's request for fund-raising and other help would be passed over to the new committee to sort.

RAs - We need another “I cunt rite” Hashit T-shirt, as we still have "no-shows from scribes! Joyboy to find a suitable one.

Hash Cash - There was a complaint that Umpire's 30,000th runner T-shirt is stuck on his wall rather than on his back! Harley tells us that we have had 2,000 man(woman!)-runs this year. He is preparing heaps of other "interesting" statistics for the AGM! Hash funds are doing well, we are £900 up this year (£1,800 in the bank, of which £900 was carried over from previous "financial year". There is also still money to come in for Hash polo-shirts. Little Shit to let Harley know.

We are on target to put away the second £500 instalment for AH3 1000th run week-end (with £500 saved last year plus £500 this year, gives us £1,000). The new committee to be told not to blow it, and to get another £500 next year! The objective is to have a minimum of £2,500 in the bank for the 1000th. Harley agreed to work out the expected date of the 1000th. Hash Insurance- 3rd party cover is £1 million. There is no personal cover, as the hash are far too sensible to have accidents..

On Sec/ Interhash - Olymprick tells us that there are nine Aberdeen Hashers going to KL for Interhash. TNT are organising Scottish Hash T-shirts see Val, TNT. Drillbit is also organising AH3 T-shirts for Interhash.

Head Hare - It was suggested that runs should be spread out more, as there were recent examples of runs being set in the same area on consecutive weeks. Runs also to be published one month ahead.

Harley would be making available at the AGM a list of run locations AH3 have run this year. Most used locations are Blackhall Forest, Kirkhill Forest, Slug Road. Most runs this year have been set by Little Shit (7). Hares to seek-out virgins to help set runs.

Hash Beer - Flasher to be congratulated for discovering “Diamond White" (says Silver). 3d Bits & Flasher to sort-out who will be doing beers for the AGM. Thanks to Megaphone for providing 2 crates beer/ lager/ cider to the Hash to celebrate his birthday.

Edit Hare - A suggestion for next year's committee- how about an award for "run of the month”? TL requests that when anyone gets hold of some "appropriate” material for the Hasheet, to photocopy it 50 times and pass it to her.

There was a suggestion that the Hasheet be issued by Email rather than hard copy. This suggestion was knocked-back, as it is cheaper to photocopy! How about issueing a summary Hasheet with run locations listed? This was seen to be a good idea, and Rockit volunteered to do it. He therefore becomes the Hash Virtual Edithare!

TL to publish in the Hasheet info on committee positions, in anticipation of lots of volunteers for RA, GM, JM, Hashbeer, etc!

Haberdasher - Hubcap to talk to Catwalk about producing some more AH3 stickers.

T-shirts left:

30 x 50th 2 x 750th

2 x ASSHash

Polo-shirts- numbers not known, Little Shit to advise.

Hash Raffle - Drillbit to run a raffle at the AGM. He needs your junk!

Social Sex - AH3 to organise a medieval banquet, hosted by the thre Ropers. Timing to be agreed, probably when it's nice and cold, Ocober-ish. The Hash Christmas party has been booked, its Owlies again, date is Saturday 19th December.

AGM & First Sunday Run AGM to be on 20th September, after the first Sunday run (an A to B run, no dogs). Hares are Wee Willie (his last run!) and Harley. BBQ to follow chez Orra Quine. Harley has organised a bus, with various pick-up points in the town. Flier has been published in the Hasheet. Cost- £5 all-in, including bus, run, drinks and food. Rumour has it that the Hash BBQ is at JC & Fifi's- to be made available for the AGM! Tongue Lasher and Sanso also have barbies that will be made available (TL to tell Sans O!). Harley to get hold of a marquee, to make sure that it doesn't rain.


Hubcap volunteered to set an ASS Hash torchlight run in September or October. Lone Ranger to set a Full Moon Hash. There was a general chat about who should be ear-marked for the new committee, more about that later!

Thanks to Joyboy and The Body (again) for cumfy chairs and good food. Thanks also to the committee and everyone else for organising another good years hashing!

Next Meeting

Up to the new Committee!!


Wee Willie GM

821 - Mon 17 Aug 1998 - Milloch Hill, Strachen (49) - Hares: Little Shit - Scribe: Terry Tubby

Run No.821 Slug Road Car Park - NOT middle of the North Sea

Pre-run cheesy down down went to Young Man, just for being Young Man, who preferred to expose his smelly feet at least opportunity, perhaps he is in training for walking on hot coals.

The run started with an ordered handful, missing its usual uncontrollable rabble. Nobody seemed to know where the others were, although one or two were heard discussing something about the coast guard being called out to rescue keen, but very gullible hashers from the middle of the North Sea. Alas, although few in numbers the orientated ones set off with the usual enthusiasm headed by Hippo, undoubtedly encouraged by the lack of running competition and the sunny weather.

The run was short and sweet much to the disappointment of the hardy fell runners, with no rivers to cross, or fence to scale. Incidentally, who spotted the stone circle and who really cares about history? .... I am sure Smiler does, teaching being a way of life and who endured her first day back at school today.

The route didn't suffer problems of flour disappearance or the crafty antics of a deranged hare, in fact the hardest it got was passing through tufty grass, ......."How people don't sprain their ankles is beyond the powers of comprehension of this week's scribe”.

It must be pointed out this week that Megaphone seems to have become a permanent chicken, not having been spotted running with the rabid pack for many a hash – corn diet recommended.

Lastly, the beer check saw the frantic efforts of poor hashers being eaten alive by hungry midges – I for one remain lumpy and bumpy several days later.


Alternative Tankard for Down Down supplied by Young man's shoes, fostering a mature flavour ripened by a sweaty run & a urine stained baby's potty.

Virgins and new runners (The lucky recipients of concentrated cheesy beer) OoshJar and Amy - "hope you weren't put off'?

  • Hare(s) Little Shit, although Big Shit seems more appropriate for the grid ref. Boo boo.

  • Megaphone and Keri

  • 2 Car Drivers for Olymprick (Soft down downs)

  • Olymprick Too much farting and snoring at Stonehaven

  • Sir Drunken disorderly, and cross dressing - who redressed himself in front of watching hashers - causing murmurings and questioning noises as items of women's clothing were sported.

  • Terry Tubby About time he got the Hash Shit for the first time. And for writing notes as he was also this week's scribe.

On On - Tubs

820 - Mon 10 Aug 1998 - Banchory car Park (64) - Hares: Olymrick & Duane Simpson - Scribe: Orienteer & A VISITOR'S TAKE ON AH3

10 August 1998


Pre-run down down went to the mighty Olymprick for achieving 400 runs with his usual gusto "well done".

On the Monday evening we set off with high hopes of a perfect run but with a little trepidation after seeing Olymprick wearing his non practising gynaecologist head gear (females beware). In stark contrast to our beautiful surroundings drains and tunnels awaited us, I expect hares are used to tunnelling in the bowels of the earth (homing instincts prevail). Already having lost one hare Angie while setting the trail on Sunday after doing an awesome and most excellent double flip over the fence landing on her back (show off).

On on went the hash, through fields towards the forest, over fences, splashing through rivers and mud until we reached the thirty-nine steps leading to the long tunnel beneath the main North Deeside road, with the super fit Hippo doing a double take. On through the forest the beer check awaited to quench the thirst.

Hillary disappeared like his namesake to explore new heights getting lost on the way (take note map and compass ideal gift for future). Zig zagging through the forest and on towards the Banchory streets and playing fields with a lovely view of the mountains and the monument on Scolty hill. Back at the car park Penguin acknowledged his oriental fan club by pppicking his way across to them.

Down Downs

  • Real Visitors 3 visitors Returning Visitors Bev from Pakistan and Nick from Singapore Hares

  • Olymprick and virgin hare Wimaway

  • New Runners 3 off

  • ALHC heard saying, “regroup harriettes I am a FRB"

  • Uisdean (Oosh-Jan) Hash shit for returning plank to allow Ruth to cross-stream Isle of Lewis

  • The Lum Hash shit unhappy with hash handle




Having a really good holiday in Aberdeen, but I must tell you about last night. My friend suggested I join him. He meets some friends once a week and goes for a run in the countryside.

WELL!! We got there about 7 pm and what a bloody sight to see. All colours shapes and sizes were there, all in brightly coloured t-shirts and shorts with the rudest of slogans, and the hats???? - one guy, grey hair, Billy Connelly accent, think called Dasher - thought that was a deer - well his hat, can't tell you, you wouldn't believe it.

This short balding guy with stubby wee fat legs and different coloured florescent socks screamed for us to form a circle - some sort of ritual thing - and everyone mumbled obscenities but did it all the same. Another short stumpy fellow with a ginger beard - no oil painting I can tell you - was given the present of a sweatshirt. Goodness knows what for!! I think for running a ridiculous number of times with this bunch. He must be at least 47 years old to run that often.

Then a really small female, all athletic, no boobs but lots of muscles told everyone about a swimming session that was happening (they must swim weekly too - but she told everyone to take their own booze??) Curiouser and curiouser.

The guy with the new sweatshirt then put a torch on his head!!!!! - and started talking about spots, then pointed into the woods and everyone thundered off - all except for a few lazy bods who looked completely unconcerned and walked off slowly after them - the knitting circle I think.

We had to look for white dots of what looked like flour. Can you imagine some poor idiot must come out earlier and put these spots there!! The wee guy with the new sweatshirt is a baker I hear - now I know why they use flour. They all kept shouting something with delight when they found these spots. Thank Christ I won't bump into anyone I know - what a bazaar experience.

Through the woods and on past the river - Oh NO - NO - not into the river. Knee fucking deep in water and I am agreeing to this stupidity – trainers and all!!! Not only into the river, but under the bridge, then up the bank. Thank fuck the river is crossed. No bastard will convince me to do that again.

The next bit was quite pleasant, and I am getting into this mad game, and it is 'on on' that they shout - don't ask why. A circle of white with a cross in it and they are all confused. Looking all through the woods shouting 'are you' and 'checking' and mumble mumble and swear swear and hair hair!! It rhymes but I am not sure of the connection.

What the hell is going on now!! I thought I had this thing sussed - but no- they are all lost - maybe we can go home now. No such bloody luck - here we go again, they have found the spots and we are off again.

Puffed a bit I held back. Fine chatty bunch I am with - no worries of any more running - then.....the wee stumpy fellow with the orange beard and the new sweatshirt and the lamp has come looking for us. You want us to go where?????????? Not into the river - no no - through a tunnel - up to or fucking knees again in even colder running water. I kept looking for the wee brown jobs - I knew they were in there.

Well that's the end of it - never again, but they told me "that's what they all say". (I said that about the river crossing. Didn't I??) Away at a trot through the woods, what the hell are they looking for now??? Ah - Found - a plassy bag full of cans, but we have to share??? What next for God's sake. Think of the germs!! No don't. I had to share with this strange tall thin guy who farted as he ran and said how healthy it was. Not much wonder they call him the Dog's Bollocks. THAT'S ANOTHER THING - how could I forget this bit. They all have nicknames. Try this for size - Olymprick, Little Shit, Tongue Lasher, Dog's Bollocks, Megaphone and even AIDS - now I ask how you fancy being called one of those names when you are out for a quiet drink with your mates. But the best has still to come. (I bet you think I am making up this load of crap - well I promise you this is for real). We all got back after knackering ourselves running for hours and this same little guy - I found out his name is Toy Boy - started calling everyone into the middle of the ring and ridiculing them for doing strange things then they had to drink lager and raspberryade while everyone sang (droned) and the locals looked on in wonderment. What a load of bollocks (they have me at it now

You don't think it can get any worse do you?? Well it did. There was this T-shirt and they - no wait, not on paper - it is just too ridiculous for words. I can convince you the rest is true but not this one - No really - too much, just too much.

Then we all went to the pub and scared the locals half to death, or out of their local whichever first. The poor landlord was last seen pulling his hair out and drinking himself to death. Never, never, never volunteer to go for a run without checking it out!!, not in the Aberdeen area - but these bastards are everywhere - all over the world - so they say.

That's all for now. See you when I get back

Your good friend

PS I had to witness this again so tried once more and this week they were drinking out of Little Boy's shoes, and Toy Boy's kid's potty. Do the Environmental Health know of this bunch?? And you know what?? They pay for this and run week after week - even in the rain. WOW!!!! Wired to the moon or what???

On on

The Visitor

819 - Mon 03 Aug 1998 - Kirkhill Forest (64) - Hares: Megaphone & Terry Tubby - Scribe: Monty

Run 819 - Of Sun and Trees and Lost Tyrebuggers

After circling up, intros and a down down to Willie for first in, off we go!

Running with Joyboy I heard the latest gossip and had the opportunity of watching him jump over a wall onto some grass concealing large rocks. A crack in his ankle followed by some cursing and swearing and he was off limping up the hill whining to anybody who would listen.

Seemed strange to me how the hares had set the trail to be in the open when the sun was behind clouds and in the trees when the sun was out. Some experienced hashers who decided the trail lead nowhere, lead me off. As we were waiting for the pack to catch up, The Body threatened to knee me in the balls if I did not let Bog Bonker train for the next Four Peaks team. Then we were lost and ran around looking for flour for some time.

In my searching’s I met a gentleman strolling along in his suit who informed me he was also a hasher and also lost. He was Sharky and managed to find the beer check.

Olymprick was also lost and ran all the way to the airport in hope of regaining the trail. Beer check in the trees as the sun shone, then a short run and On Inn.

Down downs to hares Mega and Terrytubby,

Sharky for staying mud free in his civvies,

Jammydodger + 2 others as new runners,

Mega (not Becky) for silently abusing her without touching in a tent, and to 3 confusing "checking from here” wenches.

Naming to Shiela who takes on the title of "Dirty Mac”.

Hashshit to a couple of Big Fat Ugly Bastards for claiming they had climbed to the TOP of all the Munroes.


818 - Mon 27 Jul 1998 - Slug Road, Hill of 3 Stanes (58) - Hares: Umpire & Tongue Lasher - Scribe: The Count Sanso

817 - Mon 20 Jul 1998 - Sunhoney Farm, Echt (52) - Hares: Little Shit - Scribe: Bladerunner

Aberdeen Hash House Harriers

Run 817

Mon 20 Jul 1998

OnOn: Sunhoney Farm, Echt

Hares: Little Shit

Scribe: Bladerunner

"The Mountain Goat Run!"

Fifty God-fearing souls gathered at Sunhoney Farm, near Echt, I can't say to whom the pre-run down-down went [Edit-hare - how could you forget Lifeboat's 100th run?) to since I was late, earned the opprobrium of the R.A.: the loud-mouth Harridan, and was appointed scribe. So let that be a lesson to you. Turn up on time and hide behind some wench with a large arse, there's plenty to choose from (Edit-hare - RA Silver Hark to this hash stud of 'splendid' physique!!! - Not - miscry your harriettes)

The farmer walked past and both he and his Doberman Pincher cringed in fear and skirted around the Hash pack. "Little Shit" was the hare and we half expected a decent run. You know! The old fashioned sort where you could stretched your legs and broke into a gallop, with a fair wind behind you. Alas, we were to be sadly disappointed. The Lone Ranger must have had inside information. He pretended to have a bad back and hung around the car park after the Hash had departed.

The run started well enough but very quickly degenerated into an uphill trek through a jungle of spruce. The Hashers behaved splendidly: the women helped the men over the more difficult bits and uttered gentle and soothing words of encouragement. Spirits were high and after 15 minutes of climbing we thought that there was light at the end of the tunnel. Sadly it was the light of the on-coming train.

Up and up we climbed, panting and sweating and just as we thought we were there, we came to the tree line and a mass of gorse and heather that seemed to stretch to the Heavens. I had forgotten about the flies in Scotland. Our stumbling through the heather seemed to irritate them and very soon each one of us had a black, seething cloud of persistent around our heads. We struggled gamely into the stratosphere, wheezing and gasping for breath with sweat pouring out by the gallon, and our legs slowly turning to rubber!

Some of the more adventurous climbed onto a dyke and leaped and walked from stone to stone but after about half a mile of this, I decided that death by falling to a heather-covered crevasse was preferable to falling to my death from the wind-swept wall.

We climbed higher and higher and the eagles were black shapes below us. The wind howled and shrieked around our ears and the flies decided that they had had enough and almost departed. Finally we made it to the top and Little Shit handled out life saving beers and Milky Ways. What a hero! It almost made up for the crappy run, but not quite! We were treated to a feast of a view - about 10 yards - as the clouds and rain descended on us.

After we were all fed and watered, we started off down hill and, strangely enough, it was easier than struggling up hill. Very quickly we were back in the tree line and into the wet ferns. Then, goodness gracious (!) we had to run about half a mile back to the car park. Unfortunately we gathered up our black swarms of flying beasties and other insect admirers and brought them all back to the farm, where they had a convention as well.

Hash Downs were awarded to the Virgins, Visitors, the Guilty and the Innocent alike, without regard to sex or station in life. The R.A.s were in good form as ever and The Lum was awarded a hash-down for some well-deserved misdemeanour. The Hare narrowly escaped a hash shit but I suppose that bribery does pay off, in the short term. The Hash Shit Shirt, richly decorated and much adorned with cow dung, was proudly awarded to The Sheikh for bringing his harem of nubile, young women. I must admit, that with the setting sun in my eyes, and a couple of beers inside me, the women looked half-decent, even attractive, which is more than I can say for the run!!

On On Bladerunner

816 - Mon 13 Jul 1998 - Tillyfourie (35) - Hares: Hippo, Mrs T & Seagull - Scribe: Megaphone

Aberdeen Hash House Harriers

Run 816

Mon 13 Jul 1998


Hares: Hippo, Mrs T & Seagull

Scribe: Megaphone

The Run That Started From The Wrong Parking Place

Here was the Scribe (to be), looking at the map at home. Thinking 'Hey, I know this place, it's not that near, let's leave on time.' (For a change...). And there I arrived, some 15 first. While waiting I chased a lone wanderer and his dog away...'Many more cars to arrive here!', I said...... But then time went on, and I got lonely....Hmmm maybe it's a bit further up.... Back in the car, drove up a bit further, and found all the others....all in the wrong car-park!

So can you learn from this?:

1. Hashers don't care for lost souls, they just drive by and wave! (Don't even honk the horn...)(Edithare - Umpire how could you, and your passenger asked you to assist the poor lost hasher!!)

2. Most of them can't read a map, (Except one!...I even checked it with my GPS (Edithare – what???? On the hash!!!???)...I was on the right place)

3. If you want to have a run-report, appoint a scribe that is likely to stay on the trail, and not shortcut most of in from the back...(But you'll discover that later...)

4. Even if everyones bollucks are freezing off, The Penguin runs in his shorts and tank-top...(or is this just an observation?)'s a walkie talkie report on this evenings events:

Pre-run Down-Down to Bungy Finger, 100 runs, 'Get-A-Life' award!

And off we went....Olympric as usual going in the opposite direction, does he even know what flour looks like? Some 100 metres further | went on my first shortcut, along the dismantled railway line, trying to upset some local inhabitants. Mrs. T. showed here excellent knowledge of the terrain... 'Trust me, I know the way. I'm sure there is a path here!'...And so we ploughed through someones back garden, eventually ending going up a steep path leading to the quarry. What a shortcut...must have been twice as long as the trail, looking at how far back we were. ...Anyway, the trail turned into the right direction, towards the Beer...And the walkie-talkies even managed to get there just before everyone else was gone.... How decent, they even left us some leftovers....


- New/Virgin runner: Bill

- Jeremy, who from now on will be know as 'Hole in the ground', deserving this for a preference closely observe certain terrain features

- The Hare - The 4 peaks team, for being 'disqualified'

- Cinders, having here B'day, (23??, and where was the cake?)

- Ed, for doing fuck-all

The Hash-Shit went to JC, for turning the Thursday ASS Hash, into a marathon through Stonehaven so we all missed the train......


Run: 8 (out of 11)

Beer check: 4 (out of 7)

Weather: 3 (out of 5)

Starting location: 10 (out of 100!)

On-On, Megaphone

PS. With the Hash entering the e-mail age etc., and the Edit hare threatening to alter my writing to her liking, this scribe is PGP signed. - (Edithare - PGP failed, but I left it alone after all!!!)

815 - Mon 06 Jul 1998 - Cutter Wood, Strachan (68) - Hares: Drillbit - Scribe: White Trash

Aberdeen Hash House: Harriers

Run 815

Mon 06 Jul 1998

Cutter Wood, Strachan

Hares: Drillbit

Scribe: Michellin Man

A very large boisterous crowd of hasher's turned up for the 815 set by Drillbit. Great excitement as it was announced that our team of 'Peakers' had carried off the first prize for the Four Peak Challenge. Congratulations. It will be a hard act to follow for those thinking of signing up for next year. Silver cups were filled with aniber liquid and the Four Peakers Hippo, The Body, Pig Pen and Little Shit got a well-deserved 'ON DOWN.' Pig Pen looked knackered and for once was very subdued. Maybe he's getting too old or past his peak!

Now to the run. I have to name this the most idiotic run this year. You will see what I mean as we progress. with a flourish of style, our lycra-clad hare drew a huge arrow on the ground and off went the pack.

The first check was a check back followed by a stream crossing. First idiot was the Lone Ranger now renamed John the Baptist. He went arse-over-tit into the stream and came up clean if not spiritually, bodily. The run continued up and down the woodland hills and across stream after stream. The track suddenly disappeared and we got the second idiotic event. A hare looking in the wrong direction for his trail whilst the rest of us found the flour in the opposite direction. After a long uninterrupted run a jelly baby check was reached. What has the Hash come to! The next check was a beer check where only one bag of beer was found for 50 hashers. Jelly babies are obviously cheaper!

Now to the circle. Who ( own up!) was the idiot who bought diamond lager at 8.3%, Our Viv took one can went glassy-eyed and then completely lost control of herself as RA, leaving poor Joy Boy struggling to keep control.

On Downs went to

  • Two Moons for being wet between the legs, to

  • Aids for falling to bits, to the

  • Kaiser for being a boring old fart, to

  • Our Jakarta visitor Dave Findlay, to our virgin runners who we hope will return.

  • I think we should reconsider membership to the 'Brick House’ from South Africa. He downed beer faster than an Aberdonian picking up change.

  • Hash shit went deservedly to the night's greatest idiot, The Umpire. Unbelievably he reversed his car into a parked car, sped off without stopping and then returned to the circle. This takes a lot of beating.

The On Inn was at the Feughside Inn where the bar was overrun by thirsty hashers. Our Viv and our Mandy declared it was National Kissing Day and this idiot believed them. So in the end, it turned out to be a great run, at least for me.


Scribe: White Trash

814 - Mon 29 Jun 1998 - Milltimber Farm ( 68) - Hares: SansO & Pink Panther - Scribe: Scumbag

813 - Mon 22 Jun 1998 - Seaton Park (56) - Hares: Tongue Lasher, Becca & Lifeboats - Scribe: Becca (Small Tripple)

RUN NO 813 SEATON PARK 22-06-98

Hare-ettes Mandy 'Lifeboats' Helen 'Tongue Lasher' Becca 'Still to get it




SARAH: For having a 16 year old lust after her and her bestest friend for beating her in bonking race.

VIRGIN RUNNERS (lots - 7 - Welcome to the funny farm)

CLAIRE: For going to the hairdressers and missing a night of drunken debauchery with the ASS HASH

BUILDERS BUM: For pre-training for the HASH so she can be first.


New Handles

Claire - 'Hairdresser'

Henry - No Handle' I think!!

HASH SHIT: BELAMY, For dressing like a liquorice allsort, far too athlete-ish for the HASH He then proved it by giving Shui some pre-charity-run training round the circle. Lots of beer wasted over other hasher's heads - and lots of sticky hair.
















ALL ABOVE UNBIASED OF COURSE!!!???? - IF YOU WANT THE TRUTH DON'T MAKE THE CO HARE SCRIBE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

On on Becca Supreme Co-harette

812 - Mon 15 Jun 1998 - Allan Park, Cults (62) - Hares: Hill-Ary - Scribe: Shaky

Run No. 812

Onon: Allen Park, Cults

On Inn: Cults (disorganised again) Hotel

Date: 15th July 1998

Hare: Hilary

Scribe: Shaky

You'd have thought that 20 minutes would have been sufficient time to get from Rosemount to Cults. So did I but then the fates conspired, or rather Allen Park is bloody impossible to find - with or without a shite map. However, I now know how to get to the golf course, a rather nice house down a private road complete with tennis court and several dead ends.

Nonetheless an excellent turn out - so much so in fact that hash transport stretched half way back to the Bridge of Dee. Pre-run down downs to the Hare for the aforesaid shite map and to Wee Willie and The Umpire for giving the RA wrong directions when he was already lost.

On-On into the park and after taking a more direct route to the pond than the pack checked up to the old railway line. Wrong. Hashing sense prevailed and rather than lose height proceeded to zig-zag in distant parallel with the pack until they headed upstream along the bottom of the golf course.

Continued in parallel along the railway line - past an ambling hare and up into Bieldside and back onto trail.

The FRBs appeared and disappeared. Only The Body and Joy Boy stopped to natter. The former about wedding plans (girlie interest), the latter about his sex life (boys talk).

Seems a lack of checks on the outward stretch had somewhat split the pack into two groups - those who had ran and those who hadn't. Up a long (checkless) private road past some very nice looking mansions and into the woods.

Harley and Farmer appeared - apparently not having short cut to that point but still joined at the hip. As a trio we cut over to the beer to catch up with the FRBs who had already found the same. Beer consisted of a box of bottled lager. Being Hashers and not a bunch of well-prepared Boy Scouts there wasn't a bottle opener amongst us - not even Farmer's Swiss Army knife could oblige. Ever resourceful we managed. Hope Young Man's dentist isn't easily shocked.

A long run in from the beer check - if you followed the trail. More checks than Scumbag has bounced and some semi - decent hashing country in town. Perhaps we did the run backwards!

Down downs awarded to;

  • The Hare;

  • Visitors: Sofa, Tone Deaf, Flocker, Waiting For It, Ingrid Charlotte, Scringer - from Hong Kong and somewhere in Scandanavia.

  • New Runners: Ian Gardner, Dekonig and Andy Pyle

  • Gold Top for leaving car and house keys at Heathrow and finding out in Aberdeen

  • Moaning Monty (visitor?) since Monty wasn't there.

  • Hub Cap - for catching something from a toilet seat in Copenhagen

  • Hash Shit to Scumbag for allegedly being the real culprit behind the bar room scuffle that Michelin Man got hauled up before the beak for. Or is that a lie too?

On-On -- Shaky

811 - Mon 08 Jun 1998 - Scolty Hill (50) - Hares: Megaphone - Scribe: Catwalk



Mon 8th June 1998

OnOn: Blackhall Forest

Hares: Megaphone & Batty

Scribe: Catwalk

We have all heard about the joke about the wherethfuckawe tribe and this was in evidence as hashers everywhere were trying to find the bloody start, not a good one. Olymprick was seen waving his hand in a 'follow me' mode, not the best thing to do under any circumstances, but we did anyway, sad bastards, cos he was lost too!! Anyway, Colin McCrae would have been proud of this lot, Colin who? . Subsequently, we did find the start with words like ' I kent it was here at the time' and my punishment for being a sad bastard was to write this piece of literary dirvel.

Our illustrious hare Megaphone announced that it was a short/long run, make your own mind about this one, and off we went again into the mist and rain. The troops soon spread out with the FRBs excelling themselves, never to be seen again. One wonders if we can have random drug testing or does Olymprick have some secret ingredients in his cakes (45p for those of you who don't know, but they are bigger than Chalmers – yes the cakes).

The run soon degenerated into a procession resembling a Himalayan Trek, single file: up Scolty Hill, the guy with the Everest T shirt on must have felt really at home. Altitude sickness kicked in followed by a feeling of loneliness for we soon realised at the top that we had some difficult decisions to make - like – where the fuck now? Joy Boy definitely seemed to be affected as he was seen circling the monument gibbering like an idiot.

Our small band of Tongue Lasher, The guy with the funny hat, TC, Smiler and some Dutch fellow peered into the distance and yes we saw movement so off we went. We of course duly got lost, but Smiler came to the rescue and led us on to the beer check where we were entertained to an impromptu song from Megaphone and that Dutch fellow who then had a condor moment by lighting up a cigar.

On the way in, this time a low level trek, Michilin Man, the smooth bastard that he is, assisted TC over a raging torrent and promptly fell in. What a nice man.

Onward to the Hash Circle whereupon the following happened:

  • The Virgins - 3 of - Kirstyn, Everest and Beep Beep

  • Umpire & One Liner - 2 Sad Bastards dressed in pukka T shirts to watch the fiba

  • Bungee Finger - No reason

  • Sophie – Normally an FRB but for being passed by Joy Boy

  • Hash Shit to Little Shit for pontificating in society circles about his prowess!!


810 - Mon 01 Jun 1998 - Bridge of Feugh (40) - Hares: Smiler & Youngman - Scribe: Hot Flush


Run 810

Mon 01 Jun 1998

Bridge of Feugh

Hares: Smiler & Youngman

Scribe: Hot Flush

Monday morning began grey with a hint of a breeze... by 6:00pm the weather had slipped into a comfortable Scotch downpour accompanied by gale force winds. Even although the backdrop to the Hash evening appeared bleak, there were the usual number of sad bastards gleefully gathered at the car park ready for yet another muddy trail.

Whilst Harley was collecting everyone's hard-earned cash and trying to sell last year's Hash T-shirt, it came to everyone's attention that there was a new-comer...and heaven forbid: he was assimilating warm-up manoeuvres, which indicated that he might out-run the usual front runners. And this kind of behaviour can only be dealt with by the customary punishment of a pre-run down-down... After all, a virgin hasher might get lost if in the front?

This matter taken care of, we swam off into the mist. As usual the trail headed straight into the woods towards the closest shiggy infested area. This was only the beginning. The check points frequently favoured the uphill mud tracks and the Hares were seen encouraging innocent by-standers to seek out the trail in these obscure patches of dreaded shiggy. The first fence obstacle was crossed with care and special attention by all, especially Joy Boy who was closer to putting the jewels (?) into jeopardy. Then there was the second and third and fourth and..... till all the hashers were ready to take part in the next Olympic high jump event: thank you Young Man and Smiler for the training!

The trail continued through more pools/rivers and mud-slides until everyone flaunted a darker pigmentation (who needs sun and suntan lotion in Scotland?). Special thanks to all the shiggy-throwers and rock throwing cave men!

After circulating past the mud loch a couple of times we headed for the hills and soon found ourselves at one with the many hidden rocks, eye-gouging pine needles and orifices. And then finally the downhill stretch... could it be? no! yes? I heard the Horn: It must be....the beer check.

And what a magnificent place for sundowners; on a soft carpet of leaves, under an umbrella of trees, beside a beautiful river: fantastic. With the beverage taken care of, we headed back to the car park to begin the Hash Circle.

Down-Downs were issued to the following:

  • Real Hasher an appropriate handle for he who tripped on his shoelaces before the car park was out of sight

  • The Barnes Hasher as a result of Soap Box's sudden departure

  • The Starlets The Body and Pink Panther for their debut in the land of showbiz

  • The Virgins 5 of them

  • Doggy Style the new runner who attempted the reinactment

  • Hubcap the illustrious Hash Shit for becoming 50 of age

On On

Hot Flush/Builder's Bum

809 - Mon 25 May 1998 - Inch Marlow (48) - Hares: Michelin Man & Goodyear Girl - Scribe: FiFi (no scribe)

808 - Mon 18 May 1998 - Persley, Bridge of Don (42) - Hares: Drillbit - Scribe: The Body '(no scribe)

807 - Mon 11 May 1998 - Foggieton Car Park (55) - Hares: Wee Willie & Rats - Scribe: Batty '(no scribe)

806 - Mon 04 May 1998 - Fetteresso Forest (51) - Hares: White Trash - Scribe: Lone Ranger

805 - Sun 26 Apr 1998 - Balmedie Beach Charity run - Hares: Little Shit, Cinders, Lifeboats & Silver - Scribe: Two Moons

804 - Sun 19 Apr 1998 - Aboyne (43) - Hares: Farmer & Harley - Scribe: Sergio

803 - Sun 12 Apr 1998 - Roantree Carpark, Pitcaple (36) - Hares: JC & Fi Fi - Scribe: White Trash

802 - Sun 05 Apr 1998 - Don View carpark (12) - Hares: Hippo & Mrs T - Scribe: Becca

801 - Sun 29 Mar 1998 - Stonehaven (28) - Hares: Sonic & Thrupenybits - Scribe: Cinders '(no scribe)

800a - Sun 22 Mar 1998 - Toby Inn, Bridge of Don - Hares: Harley & Theo Emgering - Scribe: Big Mac

800 - Sun 22 Mar 1998 - Nethybridge - Hares: Lone Ranger, Shaky & Aids - Scribe: Urine

799a - Sun 15 Mar 1998 - Somewhere in Aberdeen? - Hares: The Penguin - Scribe: Harley & Cinders

799 - Sun 15 Mar 1998 - Comrie, Jock Hash No 5 - Hares: Little Shit, Drillbit & Hubcap - Scribe: Myfe

798 - Sun 08 Mar 1998 - Portlethen Railway Station (38) - Hares: Pink Panther & The Body - Scribe: Hippo '(no scribe)

797 - Sun 01 Mar 1998 - Ferryhill Hotel (24) - Hares: Fat Bastard - Scribe: Megaphone (no scribe)

796 - Sun 22 Feb 1998 - Brockton, Raemoir (45) - Hares: Megaphone, Its All Because - Scribe: Klingon

795 - Sun 15 Feb 1998 - Blackhall Forest (34) - Hares: Shaky - Scribe: Silver '(no scribe)

794 - Sun 08 Feb 1998 - Hatton of Fintray (43) - Hares: Lone Ranger, Anne Schwarb - Scribe: The Lum

793 - Sun 01 Feb 1998 - Durris Forest (38) - Hares: Joy Boy - Scribe: Cinders '(no scribe)

792 - Sun 25 Jan 1998 - Hazlehead Park (48) - Hares: Tongue Lasher, Sergio - Scribe: Rats

791 - Sun 18 Jan 1998 - Kirkhill Forest (32) - Hares: Youngman, Bugee Finger, Two Moons - Scribe: Anne Schwarb

790 - Sun 11 Jan 1998 - Slug Road, Stonehaven (34) - Hares: Olymprick, Urine, John Greenwood - Scribe: Drunken Duncan

789 - Sun 04 Jan 1998 - Kirkhill Forest (39) - Hares: Lifeboats & Little Shit - Scribe: JC (no scribe)