PH3 Run 1648 Scribe
Show Scribe Report by Biggus Dickus
A fortnight ago HAWKEYE & myself made a sea-change, leaving downtown Pattaya behind and relocating to a tranquil jungle setting situated on the east side of Lake Mabprachan, which, as it turns out, was the run site selected by this week’s hares, VV & DEL BOY.
The A-site was so close to our current abode that I could have stood on my roof and thrown rambutans at the GM’s head while he conducted the circle.
If we had bookies taking bets on the weather forecast for the day they would have been offering odds on for violent torrents of rain with flash floods, followed by typhoons and tornados. However, it turned out being a delightful afternoon and not a drop of rain fell.
The A-site was perfect, secluded enough so we could conduct our hash affairs in private but with plenty of parking and well shaded open spaces for PH3 to spread out and engage in the usual social intercourse.
At 4:30pm our illustrious GM, WANK-KING’S WANKER called the circle together, introduced the virgins, Barry Buzby Jones & Buakaew Sriraksa, then brought the two hares into the circle for the pre-run amble. We were told all checks were 180 degrees and - due to the high cost of paper in this current economic turndown - there was very little paper used to mark the trail. The Hares also promised this was a “dry run” - lying bastards - but we’ll get to that soon enough.
The pack took off reaching the main road, where we found paper and entered the jungle, while the Beer Hunters continued on down the road to the nearest mom & pop general store. Soon the pack reached the first check and this was a hard one to crack, which is always a good thing as it allows the main pack and the walkers/stragglers to consolidate.
It was very nice hash country with plenty of tracks to run along and despite the recent heavy rainfall the land had dried out well enough. About halfway into the run DEL BOY mysteriously appeared and like Moses leading the Israelites out of Egypt, he led the walkers & wankers, the cracks, the aged, the maimed & afflicted on a short-cut back to the A-site.
Some fuckin’ shortcut! It turned out more like a jungle-warfare training course for the SAS. We were led through dense impenetrable undergrowth, across quicksand bogs, down a spine-chilling slope and into a raging river.
We’re all aware that a VV run means water, so we expected to CROSS water at some stage, but little did we know that this devious pair had actually laid the trail right along this raging river. Our little band of short cutters stumbled blindly along the river, slipping on rocks, dodging leeches & piranha, and getting sucked down to our knees in boggy pits.
Eventually we found the paper trail leading us back up the slope adjacent to the riverbank, and after maneuvering along some jungle trails and across fields of crops we exited the jungle onto the main road that DEL BOY informed us leads directly back to the A-site.
30 minutes later, just before 6pm, hot, tired, wet, worn out, disheartened and parched, we shuffled towards the beer truck, reaching with quivering fingers for that first refreshing icy-cold can of jolly lager beer to quench our parched palates, only to be told that the fuckin’ FRBs hadn’t even got back yet and we had to make do with water. OUCH!
Fortunately we didn’t have to wait too long before the front runners started trickling back in, and soon I had my first can of jolly juice in my hand, while HAWKEYE provided me with a banana to munch on and SQUEEZE MY TUBE gave me a tasty vegetarian snack. I then joined BURL IVES, GOLDEN RIVET & SHIT ON MY SHIRT for a friendly beer & bullshit session, and MISUSE ME passed around a box of delicious imported chocolates. Yeah I know, beer and chocolates…you better believe it.
Soon WANK-KING’S WANKER called the circle together to get on with the day’s business and first up he called the Hares to the ice. Opinions about the run were offered, solicited, considered and accepted. The consensus being that it was an excellent run and an excellent run site; RUNNING BARE even graded it 9 out of 10.
The GM then iced our RA EMPEROR AIRHEAD, along with Danish Captain Ole Kubberup, who, at that stage of the proceedings, was still unnamed.
It was now time for the weekly Raffle and SIR FREE WILLY began pulling the winning numbers out. This week’s lucky six were: NECROPHILIA NIGHT RIDER, GANGREEN, BALL RINGER, HAWKEYE, TWO TIME & Ole Kubberup
The circle was handed over to EMPEROR AIRHEAD, who iced the Hares and introduced us to one of the virgin visitors, Barry Buzby Jones (Buzz). Soon Ole Kubberup took a seat on the ice to receive a Hash Name. Many possibilities were tossed around, most relating to the fact that the daring & dashing young Danish captain has thousands of high and low altitude parachute jumps to his credit. It was obvious that AIRHEAD had respect for the Captain and was trying his hardest to find the man a hash name of quality, a name with dignity that would succinctly encompass the Captain’s cornucopia of swashbuckling feats & achievements. But as he read from his list of possible names AIRHEAD made his fatal mistake and muttered aloud “CAN’T READ MY WRITING”…. and that name, as the saying goes, stuck like shit to a blanket.
Next up GENERAL KIDNEY WIPER took the circle and iced SIR REALLY SADISTIC BASTARD and the rest of the Beer Hunters, claiming that this bunch of moldy old ne’er do wells were “good runners once upon a time”. And returning runner - that wise German gentleman AKA STUPID KRAUT KUNT - swiftly followed them onto the icy throne.
Visiting crack from Hong Kong, NEON PUSSY, who is slumming in Pattaya while visiting her good friend SAUCE FOR THE GOOSE, took a seat on the ice and confessed to the GM that she’s really here looking for a very rich British or American man, somebody along the lines of TURD BURGLAR, or if push comes to shove, ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING IDEA.
We were now fast approaching 8pm, so the Hares were once again iced. Then SUGAR DADDY, together with the Hares & returning runners, led PH3 through the Hash Hymn.
On-On! Biggus Dickus