St Patrick’s Day run, hared by Supermarket Trolley and Farty Bum
A quick Irish joke to start. Well I am assuming it is Irish only because the name is Paddy……………………………..other Jokes are available.

Paddy was arrested and sent for trial for armed bank robbery. After due deliberation, the jury foreman stood up and announced, ‘Not guilty.’

‘That’s grand,’ shouted Paddy, ‘Does that mean I get to keep the money!

Act 1, Scene setting;

Friday night’s run over, circle, dinner, then a few relaxing drinks, reminiscing with old friends. Normally there would be quite a few more relaxing drinks but I was surprised to see that many disappeared for an early night and forgo on the social intercourse. They were obviously expecting a busy day in the morning.
The picture below sums up my thoughts regarding this matter………
(A little bi-lingual thingie.)
However, it has been rumoured that intercourse of another kind was on the agenda for two, or four others, or even three if you count Hash Cash with his girlfriend and mother in law, which may explain their early disappearance.
If sex with three is a threesome and sex with two is a twosome, then I know why they call Me Me handsome. But to be fair to the man he was trying to relieve Hash Cash of his Mother in Law.
The die hards were determined to make full use of the open bar located in area 51, a.k.a. The Odd Couple’s Bedroom. More of this later, if you can be bothered to read on.

Scene 2; The Morning

Now, how to start Saturday’s report, proper?
A steady stream of green clad, participants, slowly meandered into the breakfast room from opening time until just before the bus was due to leave.
The larks managing a full carbohydrate loading meal and the delicate looking owls filling up on as much coffee they had time for.
The main discussion over breakfast was the weather. Was it going to stop raining, or were we in for a sodden day.
Pilchard was the only happy person there as he was attired in his brand spanking new, €60’s worth of waterproof clothing.
Not many people know that Jobsworth is new to the honoured position of Religious Adviser and he had miscalculated.
He had to rise early and try again to summon up the ideal running weather.
See the image below for confirmation of Little Red Jobworth’s religious apparel whilst communing with the weather.
He told me, in confidence, that he is indeed naked under the waterproof and had to dance, without the red poncho, in the centre of the run site to ensure we experienced a dry run.
A big thank you to Jobsworth for that and for not sharing the other photograph. Also that the Riviera Hash were willing to post bail to ensure he was at the start in time.
Isn’t it amazing that when there is a bus nobody is late?
All on board and ready to go at the designated time.
Time for not another Irish joke?

19 people go to the cinema , the ticket lady says “That’s a lot of you?” Mick replies , “The film said 18 or over.”

Scene 3; The start

At the run start point with the rain having stopped, we meet up with all the old Riviera Hashers who now have other things to do on a Hash day but had made an effort to see who of their peers are still pulling on the old running shoes. Then catch up time commences whilst we wait for the beer car to be placed in the correct location whilst a myriad of other trivial problem items are sorted out .
Like a swan, the mismanagement are all calm and tranquil on the surface, but paddling like crazy under the surface.
Eventually we are given the go ahead to commence the singing. The musical section from the Swiss Hash, Slippery Digit and Wet and Ready gave us the lead with the warm up chicken song.

Scene 4; The Off

And with that we are off;
Runners and Likkmmmm wander off to the first check under the impression we are running where we find the first confusing W.
Keen people running everywhere including William, Quaillewd’s 12 year old, virgin Hashing, or should that be Hashing virgin son, leaping backward and forwards, full of enthusiasm, trying to find the right trail through the woods for us?
A few more W’s and then the Front Running Bastards’s turn at right angles from the Ladies Walking Brigade and, for those that know the area, head towards Roquefort. Three, or four, checks later and we are back onto the joint trail heading for Valbonne. Where the L.W.B. disappear to never to be seen again until the beer stop.
By now the sub groups have formed with those about the same standard of unfitness running together but with cross over between the groups occurring at random checks, except for Hash Cash who disappeared somewhere and I only saw him again waiting for me at the beer stop.
Just a thought for Hash Cash, who informed me he has a twin brother, did it ever occur to you that probably only one of you was planned?
A beautiful, meandering, downhill run followed. Well, I say downhill and the overall height above sea level at the beer stop was indeed lower than from where we started. But, and a big but, to reach it we had to run up and down the sides of the ravine we were descending. Fortunately the vista was superb and the river crashing and cascading below (So that is how you knew you were losing altitude, Ed.) took our minds off the climbing. The Irish contingent were amazed just how clear the water was looking. They explained that Irish rivers are usually brown because of all the peat the water has to run through before reaching the flowing stuff.

At the Killarny swimming gala, after the blond came in last competing in the breast-stroke, she complained to the judges that it was all unfair as the other girls were using their arms.


Scene 5; Part two,

Suitably refreshed, beer, wine, Gin for a select few, (Gorgeous Edna), soft drinks, chips, (crisps if you are not American, Ed.) and peanuts, we are let loose again. The L.W.B. disappeared to the right, never to be seen again. Well at least not until the end of the trail; and the finely tuned athletes, to the left, back the way they arrived at the Beer Stop. (Shurley Shome Mishtake, Ed?)
Nope, a Supper Market Trolley cunning stunt ! Back uphill, up beside the river, until we take a detour inland and then some more up and down until we reach the river once more. How much of a good thing can you take?
Finally, we turn once more but onto Tarmac this time. Ah, civilisation at last.
Poo, and Poo again ! I remember this bloody hill. It was used during our training runs for the Nice Half Marathon all those years ago.
1995 I seem to recall. It was hard then so you have some idea of how hard it was today. At least the visitors had no idea as at first sight it does not look too bad. However, it has a false summit and when you think you have finally reached the top it goes around the bend and up some more. Shows how much I have slowed down as William, remember him, the 12 year old virgin, and Quaillewd, his mother ran past me and on up to the top. Fortunately from here it was about half a km. on the flat as a gentle run in to the welcoming sight of beer and food with a circle. Distance clocked ranged in the 13 – 14ish km. for most of the runners. Good trail and perfect length for most. Thank you, Hares.
Time for another one?

Padre buys a bath but takes it back the next day complaining that the water keeps running out.The manager, knowing that he was Irish asks, “Did you buy a plug?” Padre says, “You never said it was an electric one.

Donald J Trump then presided over the circle with the help of Jobsworth.
(The U.K and America are currently having a competition to see who can screw up the most. America is winning as they have the Trump card. Boom boom. Ed)
If it walks like an idiot..
Talks like an idiot………
And quacks like an idiot……..
Then it probably is an idiot.
Special mention for services beyond the call of duty, Procul, for whizzing off to buy extra beer as there was a distinct likelihood the Riviera Hash would be forever derided in Hash circles around the world for running out of beer.
Thanks to him our reputation remains unsullied.

Scene 6; The Circle,

As far as can be remembered the following were rewarded with a Down Down;
Down Down Awards;
Hares – Supermarket Trolley and Farty Bum, Jobsworth and Idyl Weiss
Jobsworth drinking his D.D. out of Donald J. Trump.
Pilchard for falling over despite his military training
Padre & others for being rugby buggers.
Paddy’s Day; loads of peeps, some of whom were, Dr Purple Helmet, Keen Knickers, Phd.,
Finnish Fly & Cumalot for FF asking whether his sex life was robotic, or manual (as proven by the Vaseline in the room I shared with him)
Hash Cash for Racism
Keen Knickers for complaining of a lack of flour when standing next to an arrow
Mel NN for the picnic
Red Stripe for having 2 little pricks
Virgin Chris (Mr Whitehouse) William
Returners – Fly Me, Dancing Scrubber, Cum Cum, Blob, Whitehouse, Quaillewd, Virgin Mouth, (and probably others I didn’t write down)
Slippery Digit for washing his balls in the river
Spanish Fly, Fairy Plongeur & Semen Monster for being totally lost just 500m from the end
Paedophil for delaying the start
And others too numerous to mention but more to the fact that I was not passed the information.
Padre & Haggissimo 100m.p.h. (160 km.p.h) version Swinging Low to close the circle and into the sumptuous spread as catered by MelNN.
Yum, Yum !
O.K. one more then…………

Paddy and Mick found 3 hand grenades and decided to take them to the police station. Mick “What if one explodes before we get there?” Paddy: “We’ll lie and say we only found two!”

Last one I promise………………….

Two men were sitting in a pub watching the Tour de France on TV. Seamus shook his head and asked, “Whoi t’e hell do de do dat?” “Do what?” asked Mick.

“Go on them boikes for moiles and moiles, up and down de hills, round de bends. Day after day, week after week.

No matter if it’s oicy, rainin, snowin, hailin . .. . why would de torture themselves like that?”

“Tis all for the prestige and the money,” replied Mick, “You know the winner gets about a half a million Euros?

“Yeah, I understand that.” said Seamus, “But why do all the others do it?”

Now all back to the hotel in time to watch the rugby before dinner.
Congratulations to the Irish, especially as it was their St. Patrick’s Day.

Scene 7; The evening.

A few pre-prandial drinks and tables taken for a superb meal, during which Haggissimo distributed music request cards to each table, with the warning we all had to dance to our choices.
A leisurely meal followed and then the dancing began, ably led by the self same child prodigy Haggissimo and his version of the Gay Gordon.
I never realised there was so much concealed Gayness within the group as by the time D.J. Mark Desani had finished and segued into the next music the dance floor was full. We even had the French gymnastic delegates joining in from the other end of the room. This continued until the last piece of music, the traditional, Swing Low Sweet Chariot, where all joined in, even the Seemen Monster complete with all the actions.
Who has been giving her secret lessons, is what I want to know.

Scene 8; The Odd Couple,

The party then retired to the Odd Couples room to continue the merriment.
Perpetual Motion had thought he had pulled and was naked, in bed, ready and waiting when we took over the room.
What to do now as he could not get out without displaying his military bearing? He decided he would just stay there and let Farty Bum molest him anyway and pretend the rest of us were not there. No I do not make this up. There is photographic evidence out there somewhere. Good money paid for the prints.
Pilchard spent the rest of the evening crying into his beer complaining – he had spent all that money on wet weather attire and it had not rained. He said he was going to look for his receipt and get his money back. I bet he did not sleep.
Hashing is dangerous, particularly if you are stupid. You are never too old to learn something stupid.
Here endeth my floccinaucinihilipilification effort of a Run Report.
And yes, it is a real word.

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