PH3 Run 1553 Scribe
Show Scribe Report by Biggus Dickus
77 Hashers vs. Horse, Mental Disorder & Crazy Pussy
At the pre-run circle the hares promised us an easy run, a flat run, a dry run. After the past few weeks where the trails had us struggling down raging rivers and dodging avalanches while clamoring up rocky cliffs, an easy flat dry run sounded like manna from hash heaven.
What the hares did not tell us though was for most of the 7.5K trail we would be running on soft sand: it was like a beach run without the sea; like trying to dance the polka in a wheat silo; we were like Italian peasants squashing grapes with their feet. Then there were the Thai-spud fields – through a spud field we went, only to arrive minutes later at another spud field, and another, then another, then yet another… Will we forever remember run 1553 as the “Spuds & Sand” run?
However, to their credit the hares did set us a scenic run that passed a delightful little shady lakeside nook. And although the hares had fuck all to do with it, there was a stunning sunset vista over the spud fields and coconut trees. Plus it was a most welcomed change, after the runs of the past couple of months, to return to the beer truck with dry shoes.
Back at the run site our graying gaggle of pot-bellied, beer-swilling, bullshitting PH3 hashers and their delectable harriets carried out the usual weekly post-mortems and general chit-chat until this week’s GM WANK-KING’S WANKER called the circle.
First business was returning runner CHARLIE MANSON who had lost his sunglasses on the trail. Fortunately for CHARLIE, harriet HAWKEYE spotted his glasses lying in the soft beach sand in one of the spud fields. (It was HAWKEYE’s day for finding lost glasses as at the end of the circle she rescued the scribe’s glasses from the ground when, after he ducked off for a quick piss, SIR FREE WILLY whisked away his seat, dropping his brand new spectacles in the act)
Then the GM gave the hares their first icing for the evening, followed by a bucketing for the cheeky bastards for having the audacity to ice the GM himself during the pre-run amble without officially being granted ice-power.
The PH3 Weekly Raffle followed. As SIR BOTTOMLESS PIT was absent G.I. JOE took charge, and with SQUEEZE MY TUBE assisting they managed again to withdraw every number but mine from the box.
RA EMPEROR AIRHEAD took the circle and immediately iced the hares, along with Webmaster WANK-KING’S WANKER for not knowing the difference between his left nut and his right nut. This was followed by LINEAR ACCELERATOR and NECROPHILIA NIGHT RIDER for some rather hazy vague offense about drinking at TQ and practicing Kung Fu moves with the ladyboys on the beach road opposite.
It was time for some awards so the circle was handed back to the GM who granted awards to both CRAZY PUSSY and MARATHON MAN for recently completing 100 runs each. And to both SIR FREE WILLY and SIR ARSE-A-HOLIC for recently completing 550 runs each. Congratulations to all of you. Well done guys & gals!
Two Hashy Birthdays fell this week: PELER (12th December) and KIDNEY BEAN (15th December). KIDNEY BEAN was accompanied by her dad GENERAL KIDNEY WIPER, who took his seat on the watery throne.
The GM handed the circle over to hare MENTAL DISORDER who iced all the Pommies & Aussies before organizing an international beer-drinking contest. Naturally Scotland won. Then MENTAL DISORDER iced the newly weds HORSE and CRAZY PUSSY.
Around this time the GM whispered in my ear that as this week’s scribe I could delegate the scribe for next week. So being the kind, friendly, considerate man that I am, I delegated that legendary hasher SIR WANDA, as I knew he’d greatly appreciate a ring-side seat at next week’s circle along with a free-piss day (not to be confused with a piss-free day) the following week.
The circle went back to the GM who was becoming delirious and frothing at the mouth with ice power by this time as he unleashed an orgy of bare bums, lined cheek to ugly cheek on the watery throne: BALL RINGER and others for not wearing official HHH shirts. SIR FREE WILLY for losing his whistle and associating with a recently escaped criminal still wearing his prison stripes. Then SIR SPAGHETTI HEAD, NO MORE CUM, and SIR WANDA were singled out for their dazzling, elaborate, patch-festooned hash attire. They were followed by visitors Jeff Miller from PJH3 and SUCK IT OUT and AWOL from Axarquia H3, Spain. Apparently at some stage in the past harriet SUCK IT OUT found her hash name offensive and had it changed to MISS TONED. So our wise GM, with the power invested in him by PH3, promptly renamed her SUCK IT OUT again.
Around this time I was busting for a piss so I shot off into the shadows, when I returned SIR WANDA was in the bucket for some hash crime unknown to me, and the GM (still delirious with ice power) was icing scores of returning runners and visitors, some of whom were CHUCKY, CHARLIE MANSON, RED ROCKET, NO MORE CUM, BANGKA BLOWER, POL DANCER (there were others as hash stats for run 1553 show a total of 27 returning runners, so forgive me if I haven’t mentioned you by name)
The hares then got their 3rd, or was it their 4th. Maybe it was their 5th. Hang on I think it was their 6th…icing, before the GM called upon the hares to sing us a song. Naturally they didn’t want to show us their rings, so the bastards sang. Aided by STEPTOE and BALL RINGER, MENTAL DISORDER singled out harriets G SPOT, HAWKEYE, TONG and SUCK IT OUT to participate in some strange avian fertility rite. Just as well there were no CCTV cameras in the coconut trees or PH3 would have been in breach of Thailand’s public decency act for that licentious dance.
As the circle was shrinking and disintegrating into a dangerous drunken rabble by this time, the GM iced the returners and visitors again. We then raised our voices towards that great check in the sky with the Hash Hymn and PH3 went forth to multiply.
On-On! Biggus Dickus