Burns Night

Burns Night – January 27th

Please sign-up ASAP

Dear GH3 Hashers and friends,

We have once again secured The Albany pub as the venue for the traditional GH3 Burns Night hash bash on 27th January 2020.  This event takes place after the hash run.

Address: The Albany, 80 Sydenham Road, Guildford, GU1 3SA.

To ‘sign up’ use this form:  https://tinyurl.com/GH3-burns-rego

The price is £7 per head for paid up GH3 members and £11 for NON-members.  This fee includes your dinner but does not include any drinks.

Please don’t use GH3 facebook page as your reply as it will get lost in all the excitement to book your place.

Event takes place after the run so meet at The Albany approx 8.45 pm for prompt 9 pm start.

The meal will be: haggis (meat or vegetarian), mashed potato and neeps, and gravy.

By registering for this event, you are agreeing to pay £7 (member) or £11 (non member) towards the cost of the meal. If you need to cancel we will do our best to fill your place in order to refund your money.

Hash Dress Optional: Anything Tartan!
Hash Entertainment: Please make yourself known to us in advance.
Toast to Lassies = Bodyshop and Reply to the Laddies = Birthing Blanket

Maximum numbers 50 (which will mean we will be sitting cheek to cheek).  All payments are required by 18th so that we can post a list of all confirmed payments on the 20th Jan. We need to let the pub know final numbers by the 20th, so there will be NO on the night registrations.


Wipe Clean and Camping Gaz

A Taster of Robert Burns’ Poetry!

Nine Inch Will Please a Lady

(Robert Burns)

Come tell me dame, come tell me dame,

My dame come tell me truly,

What length of tool when used by rule

Would serve a woman duly?”

The carlin clew her wanton tail,

Her wanton tail sae ready,

“l learn’d a sang in Annandale,

Nine inch will please a lady.”

But for a countrie cunt like mine,

In sooth we’re nae sae gentle;

We’ll talk’ twa thumb-bread to the nine,

And that’s a sonsie pintle.

O leeze me on my Charlie lad!

I’ll ne’er forget my Charlie!

Twa roarin’ handfuls and a daud,

He nidg’t it in fu’ rarely.

But wear fa’ the lazy rump

And may it ne’er be thriving,

It’s not the length that makes me loup

But it’s the double drivin.

Come nidge me Tom, come nidge me Tom

Come nidge me, o’er the nyvel

Come lowse an lug your battering ram

And thrash him at my gyvel

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