Updates and words

I thought seems I can't sleep very well at mo that I should do some house keeping. S I have updated the links, all should now work!! sorry it's taken so long to get sorted but a little thing called work has been getting in the way! I have also added Isca statistics, which have been supplied by Buzby and I'm sure Night Screech too. Makes interesting reading


Words

A mid-summer barbeque hash for Buzby’s birthday was the enticement for this week’s ISCA hash.
A goodly number turned up, including Lizzie a virgin hasher from last week along with a French friend Lucy, and Rubber Johnny  - a visitor from Plympton hash. They were welcomed and without further ado Buzby announced, “ON! ON! That way” and we were off.
Poacher and Quick Rucka, similarly cloned, sped off and were not seen until the sweetie stop.
The rest of us followed the chalk/flour to Digby Station, where there was a train waiting to go to Exeter.  As there were some hashers still to come when the train left, Buzby scratched his head (head, who said head!) pondered about Plan B (the train to Topsham) and then sent us on Plan C over the railway, and around the houses until we too arrived at the sweetie stop and gathered sedately, chatting peacefully. A few moments later there was a squawk and a flutter and Number 2 came running into sight, arms flapping like some demented duck and daisies dangling off her bosom. Whew! All having munched boiled sweets and chewed sticky things we were just setting off again when there was a call of “Wait” because some hashers had not yet turned up.  Shortly after, along came Boots in Puss and Lilo, nobody discovered where they’d been or  what they’d been up to but they were red-faced and gasping – maybe Number 2 had been doing her flying duck party trick over them too.
So it was on, over the footbridge which trembled and shook under the weight of twenty-five runners, and down onto stable ground by Exeter Chiefs club.  A neat little long/short split along the railway ensured that we all turned up back at base pretty much altogether, where we smelt the hungry-making wafts of barbeque food.
Some people enjoy their birthdays, some are maudlin and some get frisky.  For whatever reason Buzby, this week’s birthday boy, was up to at least two of those and attacked Xbitz’s bottom.  Her comment was ‘Buzby is the best Slapper!’   Obviously a very informed opinion!
Down downs went to the visitors, French Lucy and Rubber Johnny, then to the Birthday Boy and hares, then to the sinners Poacher and Rucka for looking alike, and to Tampa and Blue-arsed fly, for coming late, to Slippery for provocative body language (or something) and later on, to the Chefs Trill-Bee, and Brains, for running  the barbeque and baking the puddings. All of that, along with Buzby’s Bar and Screech’s Gin Palace, made for a jolly fine evening.
ON! ON! Endosperm