Archive for January, 2007

ON – ON! #12

January 27, 2007

Atlanta #1330

January 27th – Boner

start: Marietta High School

For some reason the events of this Saturday afternoon in the BonerZone are somewhat hazy. I can’t think why. Maybe it’s something to do with

a) the fact that I wasn’t driving?
b) the seemingly magical refilling beer glass I had?
c) the decent pitchers of beer on offer?
d) all of the above?

Okay, so after attending a couple of hypno sessions and then an expensive and very necessary amount of counseling the following account has finally bubbled its way to the surface.

On arrival we were greeted by a suspiciously bouncy P Diddy who was in such a good mood he was practically prancing around the car park. He accused Martha and Tasty Pie of being Pinky and the Brain – but which was which? Who wants to take over the world? And who’s he calling an idiot?

Meanwhile, Fill My Cavity hoodwinked interested parties into believing that the delicious shade of coral pink lipstick she was wearing was purely for moisture retention and not at all for attracting attention to her luscious pouting lips. Dubious.

And with the hare hopping off into the distance the hounds gave chase along Whitlock Avenue delicately picking our way through all the road kill and very courteously waving to the local constabulary as they drove past, very slowly.

Bearing down hard off the main road the stream of hashers began to violate the quiet suburban peace of a housing subdivision. Yet, just as we began to truly penetrate the enclave we were faced with hashers hastily pulling out. Boner had led us on but didn’t follow through. What a tease.

A Count Back 13 had been found. Lucky for some, but not for those who can only count to ten or who don’t like to trudge back up hills they just ran down.

After a hard warm up, trail turned soft and very squishy. Twas wet, but not excessive, as we traded road for shiggy. Boner laid a good trail which really seemed to keep the pack together with some cunning checks.

After adeptly traversing a plank crossing a gully Martha Screw-It stepped into a hole and twisted her ankle. I don’t know what came over me, I must use the “r” word now for I actually picked myself up by my socks and ran, graciously leaving Martha to hobble home on her own. Once safely at the Down Down she gladly thrust her foot into a frigid old bag.

Visitor Mother Chalker from DC joined us this fair January hash. Clad in an eyesore of purple stripey socks he was loud, proud and hard to miss. A quick Google reveals he’s a bit of a hash whore and gets around a bit. Let’s hope Atlanta H4 was able to satisfy his lust.

DFL – Portuguese Water Dog, Phred and Do It Later – oh no, scrub that. Ballerina Booty Boy surprised everyone by bumbling in mid circle. He came late and nobody even knew he had come.

PWD brought a new friend to circle. Stuffed into his bib was a little blue scary faceless bear found on trail. I’d also seen little blue scary faceless bear on trail, had been terrified by his lack of a face, had carefully left him propped up, cheerily waving by the side of the road, and got the hell away from it. I guess PWD felt some sort of affinity with this poor lost soul and decided they should be friends. Did I mention this bear was scary and HAD NO FACE?! Creepy.

TLS and Show Uranus were called out for being the cheating car hashers that they are.

Finally, on this day a rugby playing five timer with bleeding thighs (presented as evidence, people’s exhibit #69) got his name and shall henceforth be known as Bloody Odd Balls, for that is the will of the Hash.

The next day I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out a mysterious aide memoire scrawled in my miniscule cursive. It reads “Show Uranus has trick ankles” I don’t have a clue what that was all about. Answers on a postcard.

Hounds in attendance:
Sleaze Puppy, Deboner, Just Mike (5th), High Dicker, Martha Screw-It, Tasty Pie, Hung ‘n’ Hairy, PWD, Poonshine, Fairy Juice, Hung Jury, Bubbette, Afterbitch, BWaNA, Dribbles, Piggy’s Bitch, Skin Flute Pie, Mother Chalker (visitor – DCH4), Do It Later, Big Bore, Dawgy Style, TLS, Hot Pocket, Skid Marks, Just Toni, Bean, Fill My Cavity, Phred, Show Uranus, Push Over, Okie Pokie Chicken Chokie, Just Dan, Ass We Go, Two Hole Licker.

Growing boy

January 23, 2007

Couldn’t get this image uploaded last night because the server kept closing the connection, pesky thing.

Bill and I were just comparing this image to the one from an entry on the 27th November:

and going “Oh wow!” at just how much he’s grown. He’s going to be nine months old on Saturday and he’s turned into such a little boy already. Just compare those pictures. Those trousers are a size 12 months and in the first photo they have a hefty turn up and now his legs are already shooting out of them.

Hehe Bill is currently being a treasure and folding the laundry mountain. Out of nowhere he just sighed and burst out with “I love Sam’s little clothes!”

Lately we have been working on playing football with Sam. He’s so cute. Bill bought him a little Sam sized football for Christmas and Sam loves for us to roll it his way. He’ll then pounce on it and do his best to either hoist it up and throw it back our way or bat it so that it flys across the living room floor. He also has a great time when we pretend he’s a little wooden footy player on a table football rig and when Bill rolls the ball towards him I’ll swing Sam so that, accompanied by the cutest giggles and shrieks, he can boot the ball across the floor.

Piedmont Park

January 22, 2007

Monday morning saw Sam and I hauling ourselves out of the house to get to the park for our weekly baby gathering and stroll. Although it had been chucking it down yesterday the skies were clear this morning and we were ready to brave the bracing chill and get some fresh air and exercise. Sadly however the other ladies were not made of such stern stuff and it was decided that we should adjorn to the nearest coffee shop instead. Had a pleasant time balancing babies and hot coffee, and chatting with the other mummys.

Driving home we had to pass Piedmont Park again and I decided we were not going to be wusses like everyone else and turned into the car park. Sam and I had a lovely walk along the pathways via the lake to see the ducks. I wished we’d remembered to bring some bread to feed them because Sam was taking a keen interest peering over the edge of his stroller to watch them. We also stopped to watch a little bird take a bath in a puddle and Sam thought that was highly amusing too. We headed over to the playground where despite the damp Sam got to play on the swings and have a bit of a toddle around. He says he had a great time but wishes he had a pair of pirate wellingtons just like Grandad’s so he could jump in all the puddles.

ON – On #11

January 20, 2007

Atlanta #1329

January 20th – Coffee Bean

start: Candler Park

Playing tricks on us the weather appeared to be bright and beautiful but the cold jaws of winter lurked and the pack shivered and refused to expose flesh to the elements, mostly preferring to remain bundled up.

For the benefit of our hapless virgins Bean bumbled through the chalk talk and did a really great job of seeming completely incompetent. Palm outstretched and crooked grin on face he introduced the hash to the ominous collection of spent bullets he had found on trail and bid us adieu. Thus the hounds were sent off with a carefree wave, and a prayer.

On! On!

Trail was found and soon the pack were dodging wayward balls and disgruntled tennis players as the hare’s scent led straight across the courts.

Bean then delivered a little slice of the New Age as we found ourselves plodding through the quaint little crusty haven at Lake Claire. A hand painted sign informed us that we had found “the exact centre of the known universe” however as any self respecting Doctor Who follower should know that is utter tosh because of course the exact centre is actually Terminus.

Despite polite mutterings from the back that there was probably proper foot passage out of the hippy drum circle most hashers seemed content to ignore such killjoys, actually stuck to trail, and lined up to scramble through a small hole in the fence which popped us out like bewildered lemmings onto Dekalb Ave.

Traffic safely dodged, the pack sprinted off down the straight and the keenies became mere specks in the distance never to be seen again until the On In.

Arizona Avenue dead ended into a goodly amount of shiggy to pick through and from this point on I was grateful to have a running companion to accompany me through the hood. And run we did…for our lives.

Cruising around Coan Park Martha and I were out short cutted by a short cut which turned out to actually be rather a long cut that merely seemed like a short cut when we embarked on it thinking that it seemed like a good idea at the time, it wasn’t.

As we were ruminating on this apparent rip in the space time continuum Dawgy and ?? took us from behind looking terribly flushed, out of breath and claiming to have been doing a marathon. That what you call it fellas?

Back off the road and into more welcome shiggy, we clambered alongside a creek clinging to the bank with sheer determination and managing a cheery wave and smile for the hard hatted construction workers gawping as we scrambled past.

Up ahead something must’ve scared a fellow hasher. Somebody seemed to have shat a house load of hairy green bricks on what I will loosely term the path.

As the creek disappeared into a dark forbidding tunnel our only route out of the gully was to scale a steep embankment of dead kudzu hiding lurking prickly brambles. Clambering prostrate up the last stretch, the elation I felt upon making it to the top fairly unscathed soon turned to fear as my nose hit upon a pair of Reeboks stranded running up the bank as if
their owner had been evaporated mid stride.

Pushing such thoughts aside, across Memorial we dashed and onwards to the scary Memo Drive shopping centre. Martha suggested skirting all the way around the wire fence rather than having to slide beneath, until I pointed out the nice gaping hole in the mesh.

We crossed I-20 at Maynard Terrace with joyful hearts, eager to be heading in the familiar direction of home. Indeed, I was beginning to get a little nervous that the Hash did rather seem to be steering it’s way towards my own little hovel. It was thus a relief to change direction and be confronted with the welcome sight of Tripod offering drinkies out of the back of a van.

A cold one was guzzled before continuing on up the road now to hack through the streets to EAV in the illustrious company of Skin Flute and Supersuck? Wasn’t too long before we saw the back of them again though.

Down Flat Shoals and through the village to Brownwood Park we chugged. By this point trail was pretty superfluous as we transformed into a pair of sleek guided missiles homing in on the waiting beer at Bean’s House and making it to the On Down that all important, not DFL.


It being a chilly day Coffee Bean did his best to warm our loins with a bonfire, however, during his not so extensive Girl Guide training Coffee Bean was obviously busy looking for sparks elsewhere as today he struggled to ignite his flame in the backyard. Maybe he was working on his Communication Badge? He certainly seemed to be sending smoke signals to those hashers still pounding the trail.

**Picture Exclusive!** Just in! After extensive research in Bean’s archives this scribe is proud to bring you this never be seen before photographic evidence of Bean’s infiltration of Lord Baden Powell’s movement.

Car hashers galore poured into the On Down and saved a goodly amount of us from having to do Down Downs ourselves. Most notable non running wimp was P Diddy strutting his stuff in his pimp suit and shiny penny loafers.

Bean’s signature look on TV’s “What Not To Wear” was voted to be “Just crawled out of bed.”

Tripod fooled nobody by launching into a completely made up on the spot hash song and had to do a Down Down in penance.

Finally, congratulations were in order for both Big Bore and Martha Screw-It who were presented with their 100th run tankards. Pip ray! Pip ray! Pip ray!

Supersuck, Ouch, Tripod, Just Julie, Surly Temple, Piggy’s Bitch, Ass We Go, Poon Shine, Boner, Who Flung Doo, Skin Flute Pie, ET The Extra Testicle, Hump Day, Nibbles N Bits, Just , Will You Suck, Fairy Juice, Big Bore, Push Over, Ass Mint, Just Kathryn, Just Meredith, Martha Screw-It, Doggy Style, Tasty Pie, Furry Balls, Show Uranus, Taste Great, Wet Dreams, Fill My Cavity, Mustard Panties, Gender Bender, Spread Eagle, High Dicker, Hot Pocket, Busted Cherry, TLS, PWD, Maxwell Twat.

Grandad and Sam

January 19, 2007

OK OK Here you go Melly. Here’s the clip showing Sammy meeting Grandad at the airport when Mum and Dad came to visit Sam for the first time.


January 18, 2007

Yesterday was an exciting day for Sam. He graduated from standing up and looking at his feet planted solidly on the floor and merely willing to them move by giving them hard Paddington Bear stares to being able to take his first proper unassisted baby steps. He has been extremely determined to get moving for a while now and would get quite frustrated it wasn’t happening. We’re not quite walking yet, but it looks close.


Bill just stood as far away from Sam and I as possible on Monday evening and wouldn’t stop laughing. The reason? OK, here it comes.

Bear in mind that Sam’d already forced me to put my jammy bottoms on because he’d happily peed all over my trousers while I was changing him. With the clean nappy box empty I put the boy in his cot and went to extract a clean nappy from the tumble dryer. In the kitchen I found Bill making ice cream and got distracted helping him create some workspace so he had room to complete his masterpiece. One empty dishwasher and an ice cream taste test later I remembered why I’d gone into the kitchen.

From the nursery I could hear cackling and giggling so I was relieved that Sam was quite content and obviously playing happily and safely on his own. I grabbed the clean nappy and meandered back to sort him out. I was unprepared for the horror that to face me.

There bobbing up and down, peeking over the side of the cot was a face that broke into a big grin and excited gasps as I approached. I entered the doorway and a vile waft of stench hit my nostrils. Sam was looking up at me in delight. He was having a great time smearing something all over the side of the cot, on his face, on his walls, everywhere he could possibly reach. That something was really nasty. That something was brown and gooey and it wasn’t chocolate.


ON – On #10

January 13, 2007

Atlanta #1328

Show Ur-Anus shows us some scenic views.

Start: AMC Movie Theatre at Cumberland Boulevard, off I-75.


Having handed over my fiver plus one to the money grabbing bimbo Piggy’s Bitch, I don’t regret to report that I completely missed the chalk talk this fine January hash as I was engrossed head down in the back of a SUV with Ouch who was showing me her wares.

As the chalk talk seemed to involve comments regarding square roots of count backs I’m sure it would have made my head hurt anyway, and was thus best avoided. Fondling Ouch’s beads was by far the better option.

I was quite excited as Ouch’s nimble fingers deftly rearranged APEY TITS onto my black leather thong. Proudly I emerged brandishing my very own arts and crafts project declaring TASTY PIE to all and sundry in pretty girly beads around my neck, just in time to realise that the live hare was long gone and the pack was giving chase.

So off we went up the trail, and down Spread Eagle plummeted, arse over tit. Legs akimbo, she sprawled in a ditch. The trail end of the pack cursorily checked she wasn’t broken before continuing on their way and crashing straight into a briar patch. Once extracted, progress slowed and then halted as thorns were tentatively plucked from one’s clothing and skin.

We sauntered onwards and I wouldn’t like to admit that too much idle talk and not enough paying attention led to us promptly losing trail and going in the opposite direction to hashers sighted running along a path on the other side of some water. It was clearly the hare’s fault, bad trail. *nods*

No worries. Following our noses, Martha, the stragglers and myself blindly carried on and cunningly intersected with dust just long enough to make it to the next check mark, where with the gossip freely flowing again we lost trail once more. On through a car park we boldly ran regardless, until hesistantly defeat was admitted and accompanied by low muttering, back to the last known powder we ambled.

Veering away from the car park amongst the trees more dust was uncovered and the sound of leaves crunching underfoot brought out the gazelle in us. We almost got carried away and broke into a bona fide run.

Hidden in the woods a scenic view perilously close to a sheer cliff revealed a turkey/eagle split and jolly abseillers dangling. They questioned where we were going and when told “We just follow the flour to the beer!”, they grinned and declared that was a perfectly reasonable thing to be doing on a Saturday afternoon.

Peering down to the path below there was never any doubt as to which trail to follow. Gladly we took the easy peasy lemon squeezy route and slid and stumbled down to the riverside where fishermen wading up to their middles in the waters of the Chattahoochee resembled river spirits.

Of course, hash law dictates that soon as you get to the bottom of a hill you only have to go and climb the blasted thing again. It was thus no surprise to run across a medley of hashers ducking under some mesh barrier and trying to scale a scree ridden embankment leading to the rather bizarre sight of a bicycle threaded onto a fence like some ritual sacrifice.

Baaaa. Stupidly Martha and I almost followed fellow hashers until we realised that they weren’t actually on trail, but were just looking. We decided we rather like our ankles intact so sticking to flour and chasing scent amongst the trees, we took a much more gentle climb. At least I did, Martha seemed to decide to tackle a spot of mini bouldering herself for when I looked back over my shoulder from my trail blazing *cough* I could just see her climbing up from behind a bush.

A Beer Stop would have been really good about now. *Hint* *Hint*

Scenic View number two was a picturesque vista of urban landscaping and tinkling fountain in the middle of what appeared to be a Toy Town movie set. Mysteriously, it doesn’t exist according to Google maps so maybe Show Ur-Anus has the power to take us to another dimension?

Are we nearly there yet?

Trudging desolately onwards, though spirits briefly uplifted by the Scenic View, hopes of a Beer Stop, or better, a Beer Near kept being dashed with every mark we passed. Curses!

Out of the undergrowth we burst and were confronted with unfamiliar territory. What’s this? A running track? People actually run around in circles on those things? What fools! Where’s the shiggy?

Hesitantly Just Erica, Martha and I embraced the lanes and pretended we knew what we were doing. This didn’t fool anyone, not least the two ladies who jogged past, looked us up and down and decided we couldn’t possibly fit the description of the group of agile cross country athletes that a solitary hasher had apparently been searching for moments before.

It wasn’t long before we found Spread Eagle scratching around the school claiming that a group of small children had sabotaged the check.

If it wasn’t enough that there was still no end in sight the appearance of Just Nate sent Martha into the doldrums. Sending the spry young feller me lad back to knock out a check with the excuse that she was more than twice his age, poor Ms Screw-It immediately threw herself into a mid life crisis. Next thing we know she’ll be out womanizing and shacking up with a sports car.

Prayers to the gods of hashing for some liquid refreshment were finally answered, but oh so cruelly. Instead of providing a nice little well earned Beer Stop, Show Ur-Anus delivered a rippling creek in which to wade and a nasty little tunnel through which to plod before he threw us back into daylight and the heart dropping sight of no other way out but a narrow slippery ledge above a deep smelly pool which seemed to be calling our names.

True colours came to light here as Martha did not break stride and intrepidly traversed the ledge of doom out of the concrete tunnel, expertly reaching dry land without falling like a tit into the murky waters of hell. As I dillied and dallied, tried to assess if the watery hole were really as deep as it looked and got very anxious, both Justs safely joined Martha on the other bank.

Goddamit what a wuss I am. Call myself a hasher? My back to the concrete wall and with nothing to hold onto for support I gritted my teeth and nervously edged along the ledge beneath an overhang of dry kudzu. Thus shamefully did I eventually follow in the soggy steps of braver hashers than I.

After an exhausting two hours on trail the sounds of merriment coming from the far side of a thick bamboo forest were very welcome. Overcome with emotion, Just Nate suddenly felt the urge to put a hefty bamboo shaft between his legs and proceed to hump, uhm I hope I mean climb, it.

Almost earning an impromptu naming of Straddle My Stump, fourth timer Just Erica excitedly burst out of the bamboo thickets and made a grand entrance. She stumbled and desperately clutching our precarious bridge over to the awaiting hashers at the On Down she ended up splayed over the fallen tree.

FRB Davey Crochet and, I think, Doggy Style over achieved in style and trotted home before the hare.

A search party would have been sent for DFLs Ballerina Booty Boy and Fill My Cavity. but the poor little hare hurt his foot on trail and couldn’t be arsed to hobble back to look for them.

Pinelake GM Davey Crochet had Martha ruing that she hadn’t done a GM exchange and gone on a Busman’s Holiday to his home hash as they were running closer to her home that day.

With a lack of rule six violations and other misdemeanors Down Downs went to hash lottery.

Meanwhile, it’s so difficult to tell them apart that Tripod and Dawgy Style were declared to be identical twins.

Okie Pokie Chicken Chokie, Tripod, Ouch, Piggy’s Bitch, Crack Pusher, Cums Online, Just Erica, Anal Fisher, Phred, Poonshine, Davey Crochet, Ballerina Booty Boy, Tasty Pie, Martha Screw-It, Just Nate, Fill My Cavity, Doggy Style, Spread Eagle.

Thursday – Natalie and I strolled to Brownwood Park with the babies

January 13, 2007


I decided to make Sammy videos on YouTube private. You’ll need a YouTube account, and to have Sammycam add you as a friend if you want to view this clip, else you’ll just see the loading bar and it won’t play.

And the rest of the past fortnight to hopefully bring us back up to the present.

January 7, 2007

Highlights of Bill’s time off work included seeing an old friend of his, Kara Walker, and her daughter who were in the area for the holidays. We all went to the zoo and had a fun time seeing the animals. Some of the beasts were tucked away in their beds because it was cold, but most of the zoo was open and it was great to wander around with Kara and Octavia. Octavia is fabulous, very friendly and engaging. She’s a great chatterbox and with boundless energy she regaled me with bucketloads of information and funny tales as she took charge of Sam’s stroller and steered him through the network of paths.

It had crossed our minds to also visit the Cyclorama after Kara so eloquently and enthusiastically described it as a great kitsch spectacle, but hunger overtook us and so instead we retired to Little Azio for lunch. Maybe another day.

Kara took this photo for us, we have so few pics of the three of us together. As you can see Sam is looking very handsome, though somewhat porkier than he really is, all dressed up in his new combat dungarees that Nanna and Grandad got him for Christmas.

That was a great day.


Another fun day was when we went to the aquarium with Bill’s brother and his kids. It was horrifically busy as always but going around with Maxx and Julia was well worth dealing with the frustrating crowds.


With our aquarium membership now expired Bill and I decided to get a zoo pass this year. We really enjoyed going to see the fishes but the crowds and parking were such a pain in the arse. The zoo on the other hand is much closer to our house and parking is free. It’s much easier to get to on a whim. We proved this today when instead of taking Sam to Y to go swimming we decided to go for a walk at the zoo instead.

The zoo was teeming with parents and there were kids everywhere, but it was so much fun, the atmosphere was great and so much more relaxed than the aquarium.

Bill went through the zoo trying to memorise all the animal facts so that one day when he takes Sam he can look really clever and say “Hey, did you know that an elephant has more than 10000 muscles in it’s trunk?” or so he can answer the trivia questions printed on each exhibit and impress his son with his great knowledge.

-“Daddy? How far can a lion’s roar be heard?”
-“Ooh about five miles Sammy!”
-“Wow! You’re so smart Daddy!”

Ha ha. Ingenious.

Boxing Day

January 6, 2007

On Bill’s birthday night I’d already stayed up late with the Brownies to ensure that our house was so spotless our Christmas could be enjoyed in comfort.

Hehe, imagine Bill’s surprise when he woke up expecting to spend a day of his hard earned break cleaning the house, only to find that the Brownies had magically beaten him to it in the early hours.  

This meant that come Boxing day, the dining table was clear of clutter and could actually be laid, with a table cloth, mats and all the trimmings. I know, it’s okay, I’m not ill and I don’t have a temperature. I even made an impromptu table decoration out of the lovely Crimble candle Melly and Sy sent me and we had a festive off-centrepiece (had to be out of Sam’s eager reach!).

Delia Smith and I merrily slaved away over the stove for hours and then with everything cooked and laid out to rest in the warming drawer Bill and I went up the road to visit Natalie, Mike and Pres for some baby playtime. We got to meet her folks and say hello while Presley got to show off all her new toys. Sam and Presley have so much fun together and it was lovely for Bill to get to see Sam interact with another baby his own age.

Returning home the dinner was now perfectly done and so Bill, Sam and I sat down to an impressive array of roast tattys, parsnips, brussel sprouts. For my boys I had even set my no meat policy to one side, closed my eyes and had done a roast chicken.

That night we pulled crackers, wore the silly paper hats, and Sam even had his own first plate of table food.

It was so wonderful, a proper family Christmas meal. Hoorah!