PH3 Run 1525 Scribe
Show Scribe Report by General Kidney Wiper
Gangrene told me “Hemmingway drank for inspiration!”
Good enough for me. But later on I wondered if he meant the famous writer or that piss-head from the Phucket Hash. I knew one week ago I was going to be scribe, so for the last seven days I have been doing just that and had actually started my third bottle of gin by Sunday evening. Unfortunately, I was not sure if it would work. It has been a blast, but it sure has brought on the shakes. At least I do not have to wield a pen to paper to write this.
The hares on yesterday’s Mad Hatter Run were Horse, VV and Crazy Pussy. The last time we were at this A site there was plenty water in the reservoir and we ensconced ourselves up above it, by the side of the road. This time we were down in the dried out basin. Just shows how the rains have not materialized.
Mad Hats were the theme. A group photo and we were off. I did the short cutters run, along with Sir RSB, Sir Spag and our esteemed GM, Wankings Wanker. During our rambling (both verbal and physical) we solved the problems of the world and discussed important issues, such as the rising price of eggs, in Thailand, and the FTSE Index (or should that be footsy). Eventually we meandered back to the A site and discovered we were among the last to arrive. So much for the short cut.
The run had not been too long which was fine, because the weather is just too hot at the moment. What was discernible was the aroma of barbecued pork, with VV organizing the proceedings. Many were eagerly hanging around; salivating in anticipation of what would be forthcoming.
Salivating myself, I searched out and found Uncle Pervy’s Tailgate Beer Bar, where the usual hardcore homebrew drinkers were. Good to see a couple of old faces in the guise of Helix and Lord Chicken Fucker. After more discussions about what Gold Commodities were doing and the rising price of eggs, we moved onto more solid ground. Sex, drugs and Rock’n Roll. (Editor’s note – This section has been censored by Tampax, due to the fact we now have a junior readership). Talking with the Donald Trump of Pattaya, that well-known figure, entrepreneur and man about town, Sir MC, he explained to me how he had been getting down and dirty. No, nothing to do with Soi 6, but the back garden of his new development. After a cooling down period and everyone had stuffed their faces, Wankings Wanker called the circle to order. The hares were brought in and the general consensus was once again they had done a great job with the run and the BBQ. Well done guys.
As this was a run where everyone had to wear a crazy hat, it was good to see the extra endeavours, this time, had increased, with there being a lot of inspiring innovations. What is sure, you would never see anything like this in the Royal Enclosure at Ascot.
Emperor Airhead took over the circle and acted as adjudicator for the best hats. I thought I was in with a chance with a creation I would like to call “Harpo Marx meets Jungle Book,” but I was well beaten by Sir RSB, with what I would call “The Wizard of Oz meets the Klu-Klux Klan.” The winner of the ladies was Medusa, I think, and the girls were just so cute, it did not matter what they wore. Now we have a problem. I forgot to take any notes. Zilch. Nada. Nothing.
I don’t know if Hemmingway had this problem. I Googled writer’s cramp; Blockout, blackout and Chang chasers hand. Did not find any satisfactory search result. I would like to think it was because I was caught up in the magical moment of the proceedings and did not wish to miss anything. Nothing to do with the fact I was just inebriated.
I thought I could wing this from memory, but the old Alka-Seltzer’s disease (or as they call it in Thai “Kwam Jam Soem.” Great hash name if you can remember it. GET IT!!) kicked in big time. I guess the week of inspiration I had imbibed, not to mention Pervy’s Piss finally took their toll. I do remember those bookends of Ringworm and Big Nosed Bastard being in gravity’s grab and ending up on the ice, but I cannot remember why.
Emperor Airhead and Lord Chicken Fucker were firing on all cylinders, but agin (sorry that should not read “a gin”, but should be “again”) I cannot remember. I know Tadpole volunteered to be next week’s scribe and am sure she will make a better attempt at remembering. I think there might have been some anniversaries, if so, I apologise for not mentioning you. I do remember that after driving away from the A site, I did get stuck trying to drive up that exit track. Thankfully I did not run backwards into anyone else’s car. One thing I did notice, this morning, was I had won a set of Professional Hair Curling Tongs from the Hash Raffle. This had written instructions in English and have many features such as On/Off switch; safety stand and protective cool tip; two irons for selection to reach the effect you want etc., etc., Unfortunately, you need to have hair to do this.
I guess I could try it out on my Harpo Marx wig. Off course another great hash. Do we ever have a bad one? Thanks Tahitian Queen for the Happy Hour. Oh how I wish I could go back and re- live the old days there, but I have that cursed Alka-Seltzers thing!!!
On-On! General Kidney Wiper