Hey up, Sawadee krap and hello.
Here's hoping I can read my own scribble this morning!
Last Monday's Hash run report starts with me commending the superb, private location of the A site, in a clearing of young Teak trees.
It was good to catch up with some old friends, not least Dog licks it's Dick, whom I had not seen for a couple of years.
Much talk about the recent demise of our mate, Sir Chicken Fucker, who is sorely missed.
Form a fucking Circle went up, and newcomers welcomed. The chief Hare himself then informed us that there was 1 Dog, 1 Cow, and 1 Cobra seen as the trail was laid. So it was with some trepidation that the run started. Undaunted, the sweet tones of Lady Squeeze my tube could be heard calling On On very early in the beginning. A good leg stretcher of a run, up and down some jungly hills, with no other people seen, other than a couple on a motor bike who may have been land owners. Our running Thai bus driver chatted with them for a while, and after a respectful Wai or two, we continued with no further bother. One comment I will make was the noticeable lack of calling from the front runners. Twice I came upon a group of runners casting about looking for the trail, after a check. Nobody had bothered to call out "Checking," which always encourages the slower half of the pack. So more noisy participation is needed. You will be reminded of this next week when yours truly hares a rare run!
A well marked trail, with a clearly seen split for runners and walkers, the latter of which I availed myself.
Very soon after my arrival Sperm Polluter came sweating into the A site and the beer truck bar was happily opened.
Shortly after the Circle was called. The G.M was seen playing a joke on the Virgin hares, by coiling a life like snake under the covers of the Ice. Sure enough, the unveiling lass gave a scream and jumped back extremely rapidly, to some cruel laughter. Then a very sporting lady glugged a can of the coldest from one of her new shoes. She was later seated on the ice, complaining of her freezing posterior, and later named Pink Head.
From then on it was a blur of tit for tat Icing, with the Wizard suffering most due to his long minutes in the bucket. He took it without complaint, apart from a comment about an ice cube being jammed up his bum. Rumours went around that he was actually liking it....
The G.M then asked for details of a Hash Crash which was spotted. It seems that She's the Boss has dobbed in YMCA for falling into a hole. They were both duly Iced.
GI Joe then took over, and promptly iced the Wizard. The cry went up Bucket the Bastard, as the trail was deemed as too short.
Dirt Looney was asked his opinion of the trail , to which he replied, with the latin word for shite, which I cannot spell.
A somewhat drunken Blow Lewinski was bucketed next.
The raffle was started and Unstable Load won the first prize, followed by Emperor Air Head, who snaffled the tin of cookies. Drag Queen next won a pack of cider, followed by Wild Wolf, who filched the bottles of Heineken. Lady Mao took away a portable camping cooker, then a little kid claimed a bag of Jasmine rice, for his Mum. Yours Truly won Fuck all.
Lady Drink was invited to take a slightly cooler seat, after blatantly seating herself in the circle, she being much too young. Her excuse was that she was drunk. Not much of a surprise there.
Emporer Air Head then took the circle, and iced the Hares, along with Brotherly love, reputed to be the Hash Chemist. The chilled out Hares were praised for their perfect signs, the perfect A site, and their superior Ice. It should be explained that Air Head is an Ice fetish, he being the world's champion Ice spinner, which he has not demonstrated for a while.
Yankee Crank was Iced next, along with Lady Drink again.
Really Sadistic Bastard came under the spotlight for leading many wanna be hashers away, in his never ending search for beer.
Dirt Looney was mentioned in dispatches, for his great work on the hash generally. All you Hard working, hard core of Hashers who keep our Monday run going, come under praise for the never ceasing efforts to give us all a great day out. You know who you are, as we do, so no names need mentioning here, you bastards.
Spastic Whore King was Iced by E.A.H. for messing with words, as apparently the term "Leaving the Church" before the singing starts, means, a premature withdrawal, according to our European cousins. Happy Survivor seemed to know a lot about the subject.
One wonders if the UK did the same thing with Brexit?
Many cold arses later Sperm Polluter took the circle, and brought in Ball Ringer, who received his 800 run shirt, "Get a Life" was the call from around the circle. Gangrene then got a 500 run shirt, along with Smokeys Nanny's 100 shirt, she allegedly being a bit of an expert smoker, whatever that means.
There was some debate whether Qualified Semen is a sex tourist, while his ardour was cooled.
Happy Survivor was seated and abused for sewing a Hash badge onto her non official shirt.
Captain Kirk was Iced for being a late arrival, after admitting a mix up as to what time the run started.
Our illustrious G.M then decided who was to be Wanker of The Week, which honour later went to himself. Happy Survivor came back in to be seated, while GI Joe, Spastic W. K, and Whore in the Window, (what a great name) were punished for various demenours. Joe's for failing to know how to operate his new high tech watch.
The G.M received wanker of the week for laying a "Fucked up Trail."
Half a Dick came into the circle along with Keep the Change and Dicka Licka, such a lovely name, poor lass. We then were informed about the recently named Corona Hash, over in the Philippines.
I briefly took the circle and told a tale about Hash History on Ko Larn, after one of our runners recently took a tumble and got into the papers. Also The Ko Larn Classic run some years back, organised by the late Captain Squall, where the runners crewed on small boats to the Island, then ran across the spiny backbone of the Island to meet up with the boat skipper on the Island's far side, and then to race back to the Royal Varuna Yacht club. I ran for Captain Squall, and sailed on his Hoby Catamaran. Well, one of the runners never showed up, and was later found dead at the bottom of a ravine. A German chap, alas I cannot remember his name.
Another tale I told was of Derek, a Hasher who fouund himself in the Whore house on the Island, leaving us to sail back to Jomtien beach without him. The sailing junk which carried us to Ko Larn anchored in a bay from which a valley led up to the house of ill repute. On the count of three, we all called out his name which echoed up the valley. Derek must have been on his vinegar strokes as he paid no heed. Upon arrival at the beach his wife asked me where Derek was, as I was one of the first ashore I told her that he was just coming, then promptly scarpered.
Ah well, Happy days.
Finally the Hares were iced again, and received a resounding Down Down, for a job well done.
The Hares then gave us a clever song, which abused most of the participating nationalities, called, "Wankers by my side".
All in all, a great day out. Commiserations to our good humoured, long suffering G.M, for his frozen arse. We wish him a speedy recovery.
On On. Barnacle Bollocks.