I feel like shit! Drank too much the night before, but as I look around I see that at least I am in my own bed. Next to my money on the table there are a couple pieces of paper with what looks like hieroglyphics scrawled on it, and then I realize I am hash scribe. Now I feel shittier than when I first woke up. What seemed like sensible notes when I was making them on the hash are actually gibberish.
When I arrived at the A site everybody was utilising any existing shade. It was hot. Maybe that is why not so many hashers turned up. Nice to talk to Barnacle Bollox and Obewan again. Anyway our GM Spaghetti Head got things under way by telling us the trusty old beer truck was up for sale. Bids had to be submitted in a sealed envelope and would start at 60,000 baht. Spaghetti Head said that they would be opened in three weeks and that it would be transparent, fair with no collusion, cronyism and the highest bidder would win. This is a first. I thought we were supposed to be in Thailand.
The GM brought in virgins and new shoes that were dealt in the usual way. Next in were the hares.
The hares Running Dick and Bam Bam explained there were two runs. The long one was 10kms and the medium one 7kms which split up then merged again. Also the paper had to be laid again as it had changed colour. Being colour blind I was starting to get a bad feeling before we started, but they assured us everything would be okay as long as we stayed on paper. Anyway the spiel over and done with they pointed us to the start and we were off. Just as we hit paper, somebody’s car alarm was activated and Sir Frog and myself hesitated in the hope that it was maybe ours and we would have a reason to go back, unfortunately it was not ours, so it was not to be.
I started slowly along with Sir C.F. and Sir T4 and the topic of discussion was where to get a lawyer and have a cheap will made up in Pattaya. It just shows you how the topics you discuss change as you get older. It used to be what you were doing after the hash or what you had done the night before. Now Sir C.F’s son has the right idea. Did you see Chicken Nugget’s profile in last week’s hash sheet where he suggested that one way of improving the PH3 would be to have more young girls in school uniforms and lots of free chocolate bars. I remember one hash run we had in the eighties. The hares were Sticky and Halitosis. Ben Johnson, the Canadian sprinter, had just been banned for taking drugs. The hares had laid out running lanes with powder which looked like the start of a 100 metre race and were handing around a tin that was marked “Anabolic Steroids.” I think they were really sweets though, as there were no bursts of energy from anyone that I can remember.
Although I do remember on one run where we were given women’s apparel, which we had to wear. I was given a bra. This was okay when running together, but I do remember going off on a check by myself and getting the weirdest looks from the locals. I remember thinking I could have done with some of those “Anabolic Steroids.” Not because I wanted to run fast but, seemingly they help you to develope breasts and then I would not have looked so strange for wearing a bra. After leaving the “will conversers” I kept bumping into Simone Ebola who kept coming out of side tracks. I was on the 7km run and he was doing a bit of both by the look of it. Anyway, I arrived back at the A site and there were quite a few people back already. One person I was disappointed to see was Drippy, as I know he has not been well, and I had held back deliberately just to help him out and offer him some encouragement. Oh well! Maybe they should bring back ethnic cleansing for all English, or just the ones who live south of Potters Bar.
As dusk descended, Shit Through a Duck arrived in from the long run, which had taken him about one and a half hours.
Shortly after this the GM called the circle to order and Seaman Swallow held the circle for the raffle and as usual took no prisoners but used the buttock bite ice. The GM dealt with the usual returners, leavers etc., he also let us know that last month was the highest number of runners for July since the start of the hash. Well done present Mismanagement, you must be doing something right. Congratulations to Stinky Sloppy Seconds – 50 runs, Rubber Dick – 100 runs mug collected by Airhead, and Lord Lucan – 200 runs.
Emperor Airhead then iced the hares, but it was deemed a good run, even though G.I. Joe just arrived from the long run as this was happening, and was promptly cooled down both externally and internally. A couple of hashers from PNG were iced. Q. Who won the Papuan New Guinea beauty competition? A. No one! Really Sadistic Bastard, Satan’s Willie, Lord Lucan and Dizzy iced for hiding the Chang on the Sunday run and then getting the GM wasted. All the Aussies iced for losing to New Zealand. Shit Through a Duck iced by Sir C.F. for not shouting On On. Miserable Cunt iced for going with an Arab Katoy. Free Willy and Sir T4 were given gonad goose bumps for sitting down during the circle. Dr. Pinky and Seagull Shit got the rectum recluse treatment for driving to the A site when they live just next door.
Spaghetti Head, still in high gear, took over the circle and iced G.I. Joe, Captain Sakda and G.I. Joe’s daughter Squeeze My Tube. After this my notes are a complete mess, but I know the hares iced many and there was a hash song, sung to the tune of Day – Oh that Seaman Stains and Barnacle Bollox were belting out either side of me. Another memorable day’s hashing then it was back on the bus to TQ1 for more sexy girls dancing, great rock and roll and free food. Thanks TQ1. (Piece of Pith: I first drank in TQ1 in 1980).
On On,
General Kidney Wiper