Run 1567 Report

Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Leafy Glade
Hare: Bogbrush

GM Loses Control
By Why So Syria

The pack huddle on planks over the raging Leafy Brook

It was touching to see the reverence reserved for the GM as the “pack” of five saw Plod stumbling towards the start and decided to bugger off before he arrived.  More stragglers arrived and took off to enjoy the concrete paths of Leafy Glade, until about a dozen runners could be heard filling the night with rowdy braying, gratuitous insults and yelps of pain. 
It was a good job that the start wasn’t delayed – the course was suitable for those training for next month’s King of the Hills or next year’s Green Power Hike. With gradients ranging from 0 to 1.5% and no provision of water or sustenance stops en route it was no surprise that the lead runners limped home after almost 25 minutes, physically wrecked, emotionally shattered and drawing on their last reserves of will-power. If they had not gone out on time it would have been almost 8pm before any beer was supped. The highpoint of the run was balancing on little planks while negotiating drainage and cultivation ditches. I was going to say dykes but did not want to get D-Ram too excited. His desire to offer sperm donations later in the evening probably still stands. The low point was the massive number of howling, yapping, snarling and baying dogs. Has no one in the sticks heard of spaying and neutering?  A short jaunt down a river bed, out to the road and then a total absence of markings completed the run.  
A shortage of beer and Plod’s introduction of a strange and disgusting concoction for down downs was overshadowed by a raucous circle. The GM completely lost control, much like his biking on Saturday. Mango was abused many times, but it’s not his fault he supports Liverpool.  Eunuch finally convinced someone to take him camping over CNY – Moonie, what were you thinking?,  Mango gave three different and all unbelievable accounts of the Green Power Hike. Golden Balls finally turned up mumbling about losing his wallet while being accused of hiding a basket ball inside his shirt. Three minutes later Golden Jelly arrived to take him home. Salesman, One Eyed Jack, G-Spot and Stingray were relentless in keeping the circle open, incredulous that it could possibly be closed before 9pm. Dingaling tried to start a sperm bank, with a surprising number of potential wankers, but quickly shut his trap when Overdue arrived, ceasing to be overdue. Mango proudly paraded his new haircut, I kid you not. I blame the behaviour and lack of circle etiquette on the consumption of three bags of food colouring and preservatives enhanced with some modified corn products.
Mango getting his racy new undercut


On-bloody-on.

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