PH3 Run 1802 Scribe
Show Scribe Report by Speedo Pete
One of the roles of the scribe report is to provide a record, a memory jog, so that, 10 years from now, when some geriatric hasher (we’ll all be geriatric by then) is digging around in old reports, they may, if Alzheimer’s or alcoholic dementia hasn’t kicked in, be able to recall the run. I could tell you this was a run hared by VV, or there was some water and some long grass, or that VV did his sausage barbecue or that VV set up the lights or VV did the beer truck but none of this would help you to remember as VV, Hash Hero that he is, does this on virtually every run. The way you’ll remember this run, run 1802, is by the live sex show on the ice and in the bucket. Oh, you missed it? You didn’t join in? Were you busy at the beer truck? Never mind, here’s another memory aid. It was the run where the A-site was under the motorway bridge. No trolls were present though.
If you have ever done a VV-hared run, then you’ll know what the run was like. A lot of checks, a lot of bush-bashing sections, 12-foot-high grass and the like, biting ants, stinging bees, stampeding cattle, barking dogs, wet socks and the obligatory long back check about 800 metres out from the end of the run, just to annoy the FRB’s. In this case, it was SEAL SUCKER who, appropriately enough, got suckered at the end. All done to a high standard as ever.
TWO TIME, one of the other two hares, was a non-knowing hare, a new concept for the PH3. This is a hare that has no knowledge of the route and is allowed to run the trail. The third Hare, newly-named, SOUR KRAUT BONE COLLECTOR, was a non-counting, non-speaking Hare, another innovation. His haring efforts weren’t counted presumably as he wasn’t down as a hare on the website and since he only spoke the Alsatian dialect, he wasn’t able to tell anybody about all the hard work he may or may not have put in. Let’s just assume VV did everything, he normally does. TWO TIME claimed to have known SOUR KRAUT BONE COLLECTOR for 3 months but when pressed she admitted she, the non-knowing Hare, knew nothing about him, the non-speaking Hare. At some point in the future, somebody may translate SOUR KRAUT BONE COLLECTOR’s new name into Alsatian for him and he will find out what it means. Woof woof. No, not that type of Alsatian.
Out on trail, the run was led by the ever-genial KARAMBA who put in an appearance and seemed in peak fitness. He espouses the free-thinking style of hashing where checks and following paper are simply optional guidelines and he is not constrained by Hash dogma. This is great, the world needs free-thinkers but led to “alcoholic opportunism”. Everybody knows the beer truck is off limits 'til “the first runner completes the long trail”. Some people, let’s call them
sad pissheads opportunistic alkies, took KARAMBA’s arrival at the A-site as the dinner gong or beer gong and dived into the eskies. This was clearly jumping the gun as KARAMBA had done his own libertarian short trail. Psychologists nowadays describe this behaviour as beer thieving.
The urban setting for the A-site led to quite a rowdy second circle. The hashers were restless and wouldn’t settle down. Had MENTAL DISORDER been there, he would have quite rightly been issuing empty threats about the bucket non-stop. Somebody had left a transistor radio playing in the corner. It hissed, crackled, chittered and chattered the whole time, distracting whoever was taking the circle at the time. Occasionally it let out a boom noise. The radio was tuned to a local hospital radio station called 101 FM Radio Shithead. They have a slogan which rang out every ten minutes, “You’ll never get a moment’s silence with Shithead in Ward 101.”
Hashers were treated to a wealth of singing this night. LORD CHICKEN FUCKER gave a terrific rendition of the Young Ones rendered as the Bum Ones, only slightly spoilt by the fact he had forgotten his glasses. BARNACLE BOLLOX nailed his Cat and the Cunt song. Burl Ives’ song was more of a note or poem in which he said he would murder the hares. The crowd loved it.
The 7 raffle prizes were predictably snapped up by 5 Thai females, SHITHEAD and VELCRO DICK. The two guys were allowed to claim their prizes as they now identify as Thai females. It is amazing what people will do for a free bottle of cheap spirits. The photos, taken by LONE WOLF, can be seen on the website. He puts a lot of work into those photos and some of them catch people in the act so click on the link. He gets 25 satang per click. There was a point in the evening where GANGREEN managed to get hold of the camera and started randomly disco dancing around the circle. I am not sure those snaps will be of the required quality.
There were a couple of birthdays, CRAPPER (28) and VELCRO DICK (also 28). They both got a cake but CRAPPER’s was a big one due to VELCRO DICK’s diet. There were some awards. TELLY TUBBY 100 runs, WANK-KING’S WANKER 400 runs, TWO TIME 30 hares shirt and LORD CHICKEN FUCKER got a shirt for notching up an obscene 1100 runs, quite remarkable. WHORE IN THE WINDOW was given the Wanker of the Week award for his punk haircut, seen by the GM as evidence of male menopause. I thought it was quite cool.
THE WIZARD and DIRT LOONEY had obviously tutored SUGAR DADDY. The fix was in. DIRT LOONEY had loaned one of his favourite notes to SUGAR DADDY and at the secret signal, THE WIZARD called upon SUGAR DADDY to give the note and for the first time in 32 years of hashing, entertain the crowd with a smoothly-delivered rhyme. Well, he did entertain the crowd. But only because he fluffed it! I guess you could call it a slow learning curve.
Although not a sign-up, MUDCRACKER appeared and then disappeared. He is making a habit of this. He must miss us. I know he does.
The wind under the bridge seemed to have a strange effect on the ice, melting it from the bottom into a mushroom cap shape. At least 3 hashers had a Hash Crash off the ice due to this. The fact there were no spinal injuries was just down to luck. About 10 minutes before the end, DIRT LOONEY flipped it over and resolved the problem.
Proceedings were rounded off by the traditional song, enthusiastically led by BALL RINGER, and then on to the buses for the survivors. REALLY SADISTIC BASTARD got the front seat!
I would normally end here but on the drive out, somebody in a CRV possibly, tried to drive the wrong way up a one-way then stopped, confused, in the middle of the road pondering what to do. Was that you?
On-On! Speedo Pete