The briefing was given in a grave yard by Pencil Dick. Once he had gone through his usual routine, El Flatulante and an American visitor were asked to drink a beer from one of their brand new running shoes. The American, sporting though he was, complained his shoes were not new but had been cleaned to excess by his Japanese wife. A likely story. Following last week’s misunderstanding about running ability, Woofter insisted only competent runners go on the run. This time it worked. The usual laggards, Paddy Fag and Pecker Head, brought up the rear, when they weren’t short cutting, and the run was able to stabilise at its natural pace. For some unknown reason, Pencil Dick is drawn to cattle [Or vice versa - PD]. We carefully picked our way past a few isolated examples before approaching 3 very large bulls. Not satisfied with this single near death experience, Pencil Dick had us walk past them again before heading off for a near-by heard of cows. Our final bovine experience was with a trio of very frisky water buffalo, tethered by bits of thin string tied together with granny knots. Most of the first half was well planned and well thought out. Cover was used when available and this was most welcome given the blue skies and hot sun. His signature double loops, became a bit tiresome especially as we all spotted them but couldn’t find the paper in time to make an escape [Tsk, tsk... are they making the runs too long for you? - PD]. When we hit the road there was no paper leading to the Water Stop and, guess what, no bus! Pencil Dick had triumphed again and the ice beckoned.

A decision was made to start the second leg without the water we all badly needed. Fortunately, it was a short leg. In fact, at 1.5 klicks it was probably a Hash record for second leg lengths. Good job we don’t do 3 legs because the chattering classes would have had a field day! A familiar disused quarry gave a picturesque finish to our run. We carefully navigated the slippery red earth banks trying our best to avoid the small ball bearing like rocks and an early bath before climbing up a cliff face to arrive at the Down Down, sans bus. This was only a momentary aberration and the bus was soon in place, disgorging its Zorok and soft drinks to a very thirsty pack and the enormous relief of Pencil Dick. Good effort Hares.

Just for a change, the Hares had chosen a beautiful site for our Down Down. A gentle breeze caressed our hot bodies and beautiful water views soothed our tormented minds. The sunset would have done credit to a Turner. A bit of hyperbole never hurts. Our two new Muslim green Zorok cool boxes were carefully placed to the left and right of the Circle for maximum exposure. After a fairly lengthy bit of social chit chat and hows your father, GM opened the Circle with announcements. There was absolutely no point in telling anyone anything at the end of the evening because of the well known Zorok effect. To prove the point, a noisy and interfering Doggy Style couldn’t remember the first and only fact released, when questioned by GM. In his defence, he was jet-lagged and had just consumed his very first Zorok. The Mui Ne trip was discussed and everyone was told to register and state their meal choice by Monday,14 July, or face the consequences. GM then moved on to explain an e-mail he had foolishly sent earlier in the week. It was to show we had 55 cases of free Zorok to drink. Instead of generating heaps of praise for SAB Miller’s generosity, it produced a flood of responses on the benefits of bottles over cans. So, if bottles are that much better, how come we ran out of cans before we got to the `Circle of Death’? OK, so we only had cans, but you get my drift. Finally, despite Wun Hung Lo’s ability to see a woman in every beer bottle, he is having a Stag Night next Friday starting at 1830, Cafe Latin, before he gets married to Ball Teaser in Scotland at the end of the month.

The Hares were summoned to ribald comments and insults from the Circle. A rather sheepish, or should that be cowish, Pencil Dick, made his way to the ice while Floppy Dick and Wun Hung Hi tried to make themselves look inconspicuous. Wun Hung Lo gave the run report and Inge abused the Walking Hares, resulting in Wun Hung Hi joining Pencil Dick on the ice for getting lost. Paddy Fag then led out about 18 Virgins, Returnees and Visitors. Once the confusion over who was who had died down they were welcomed and told to clear off. We had a couple of awards to dispense. Trickle Dick got a 50 Run T-Shirt and Wun Hung Hi got his First Hare Set T-Shirt. Well done to both of you. We then moved on to a brief naming ceremony. James, who had been Zoroked at the inauguration of the beer, was brought out again having failed to get named the previous week. He was joined by a charming young Vietnamese lady called Ms Dung. She works in marketing for a small Japanese company called Honda. We kicked off with her name first. After numerous suggestions, we had a run off between Easy Rider and Wet Dream. Paddy Fag did the honours, christening her Easy Rider. Not a bad effort but a shame to waste beer on a water drinker. Try as we might, we couldn’t agree on a name for James. Even an extremely lengthy, and at times, confusing plea from Bush Wallaby failed to carry the day. Good try Bush Wallaby. I am sure we will manage to get it right next week. What a pity we already have a Trickle Dick.

The fun and games section kicked off by recognising a day of French stupidity. Monday is Bastille Day when the French celebrate the slaughter of their monarchy in 1789. Silly move because now they have a strutting President Sarkozy when they could have had a nice Queen Elizabeth II. The Hash is not judgmental and the French, Breton and Montreal trash had a beer as Aushole tried to remember the words to a well known, or in his case, not so well known toilet song. GM then brought the Circle up to date on unimportant world news. The Australians had a beer to celebrate the 2,600 Australians who leave Britain every month to return home and the 206,000 pommes who leave Britain for Australia every year with no intention of returning home. The new Nudge theory of persuasion is proving a winner especially when it comes to stopping men missing the urinal. We’ve all tried to find the polar bear in the ice at the Underground but now you can have a shot at hitting an engraved fly. Aiming at a small target reduces spillage by more than 75%. James joined Woofter for a drink to that revelation. A brunette is facing 6 years in jail for rogering her new mate on a Dubai beach. A policeman finding them at it, issued this simple caution, `You’d better come quietly, Miss’! He went away expecting them to take the hint and leave. When he came back they were still at it so she was arrested. Doggy Style and a bevvy of brunettes had a drink for that crime of passion. Finally, GM informed the throng there had been a number of injuries at this year’s Pamplona bull run. The only fatality was a drunken Irish man who fell off the old fortified city walls. Paddy Fag and Pencil Dick drank to that.

Having done his social duty, GM then opened the floor for charges. Inge came out to drink a beer from one of her previously undiscovered new shoes. Always better to own up before the run, Inge. Bush Wallaby got the Kiwi’s out for a spot of bigamy. Not satisfied with a sheep under each arm, some Kiwi men had been seen carrying a sheep under one arm and a goat under the other. Finally, Paddy Fag called out the Australians and the Germans. The Pope is visiting Australia in an attempt to sort out some unsavoury goings on amongst the clergy. This, according to Paddy Fag, is because Australian sheep can not be trapped in narrow valleys as they can in New Zealand. They have to be chased across open ground. The clergy might be bent but they are not stupid and  have turned from chasing sheep to other, shall we say, more sedentary solutions. Pencil Dick announced the ON ON would be at the Texas Grill. With that, GM closed the Circle despite cries of `More, More’ from the cognoscenti.

That’s it,

Woofter