There will be two scribes this week, one from Cunning Linguist and a second report from Mrs. Head.
1. What a great run! It was soooo good, you’d think team Aussie had set it, but, I have to give credit for the run to the hares Mr. Waldorf and Linguini Weeny.
The run setting was the lake, hills, hollows, dogs, cracks, and an array of Thailand’s (and the world’s) finest hashers, with fine names to match. Not too sure about Black Crab though; I’d keep well away from her if her name is any indication of her general hygienic condition. In Australia it’s traditional that if you go to a toilet you “kangaroo” the seat (squat above the seat), because we all know that all those unmentionable diseases, and the crabs, are caught from the toilet seat. Right? In Aus. there’s a famous little shit-hole of a place called Rooty Hill. (We Aussies like to make little shit-hole places famous, like Bondi beach, Canberra, Sydney, etc). Anyway, there’s a sign in the Rooty Hill toilet that says, “Mate! Don’t kangaroo this seat, as the Rooty Hill crabs can jump ten feet.”
Athletic Ringworm was the very last runner in, and unlike Seaman Stains (who never gets lost), he complained of ‘blowing a shoe’. While most of us couldn’t give a fuck, he recounted the story. It went something like this: He was way ahead of the pack when he spotted a worker in the field who gave him the eye. Being soooo far ahead, and with memories of times spent in the Buffalo Bar, the conversation naturally turned to blow jobs. The negotiations were taking too long so Ringworm said, “It’s either me or the shoe”. Who could blame the worker.
Nice of the Aussies to apologize to the Stolen Generation, and as we all sat on the ice, we were serenaded by Redcoat who sang a traditional Aussie school song, ‘Fosters Round Your Clitoris.”
The new GM Spaghetti Head is doing a great job with help from some of the ‘old hands’. Some may think that Sir Chicken Fucker (who’s fucking old) was being very disrespectful to the GM when he called him “Shorty”. BUT this is not so; to tell you the truthful story I will have to take you back several years when Mr. and Mrs. Head were just married. I remember it so vividly I’ve included the Thai/Lao language and translation.
Mrs. Head: ‘Horn boor?’ (Are you hot?)
Queen: “Boor horn.” (No)
Mrs. Head: “Agart rawn” (The weather’s hot)
Queen: “Rawn” (Yes)
Mrs. Head: “Kin cow law re yang?” (Have you eaten yet?)
Queen: “Kin law.” (Yes)
[It’s always good to talk about silly little things before the subject]
Mrs. Head: “Mer koon ni, Chan doc jai mark! Grua! Chan kit wa Chan ya die!” (Last night I had a very big shock, and was afraid that I would die!)
Queen: “Grua, die ta my?” (Why?)
Mrs. Head: “Hen sammy, my me kangain, hen guicia, hum, yai ti suit, MUN MA!” (Yesterday I saw my husband in the nude, with no clothes on, and he’s HUNG LIKE A FUCKING HORSE!)
So as you can see, it wasn’t disrespect, but a play on words from Sir Chicken Fucker.
Next time you see our GM, for Christ’s sake don’t call him ‘Shorty’, just do what all good Aussies do: Look him in the eyes, smile, and shake your head a little, while thinking “you lucky bastard.”
ON ON
Cunning Linguist
2. A long 43k trip from home to today’s A-site, close to Hwy 7. We have been here many times before! I remember when Evil Knievel raced his cycle here and made his famous, wood platform jump, towards the lake. What a crazy man he was!
Spaghetti Head wanted to get here early, to help Sir Chicken Fr’ with the signups. But, getting here at 2 PM is a little too early! Except for 4-5 stray dogs, no one arrived until after 3:30!
The normal circle tasks were done and over, when the hares Mr. Waldorf and Linguini Weeny raced in and explained the simple rules about paper and checks. Paper white, checks red, start over there!
The front runners keep running straight, up the road, but who goes first – that is Ringworm. Hey, someone yell? Are you sure we go that way? because, the big water is just in front of us! Then ha-ha, water go down into the shoes – deep, deep, deep! The many runners who follow can see a chance of which way is better to get away from the wet.
Now we get out from the water and into an area that we think has no more water. So we keep following the papers ahead. The front runners find some checks and we are going around the mountain and oh yeah, up the hill the front runners go. Everyone stays on papers. The trail goes up to the top of the mountain. Some hashers have a chance to see the beautiful view. Oh no, someone’s voice yells – on-on and down the hill we go. The on-on call takes the runners to the big flat area from up on the hill and across the main road that we come to the A-site on.
The front runners yelled – on-on! Yes, that is G.I. Joe! This trail is next to the monks and temple at the top of another hill. The trail goes around some farm and tapioca area. Suddenly, someone yells “be careful” – the trail now goes around a big open plot with water down below also. You were only one meter away from the edge of the large digging area. We keep going ahead and get back to the top blacktop road, just around the corner from the A-site. And here we are On-In.
The fast front runners are already checking out some fruit and drinks. A lot of the walkers and short cutters are also hanging around. So the time went by quickly. The other hashers are still coming back to the A-site in single file. Ringworm is getting wet by pouring cold water over his old worn out body! Well done, hares and hashers.
On-On.
Mrs. Head