Pattaya H3

PH3 Run 1900 Scribe

Show Scribe Report by Na Hee Man


Today was a PH3 milestone, for we celebrated 1900 weekly events that reach back through the receding litany of bygone Mondays to sometime in 1983 (if my math is correct, as my calculator tells me 1900 Mondays are couched in 36.538461 years…..).

The Hares (the GM, Sperm Polluter, Casper, Dirt Looney) were also clever to leave raffle tickets (in plastic bags with tell-tale fluorescent green markers) obscured along today’s trails for further fun in the Hash Circle.

Run offenses on trail were limited, yet particularly egregious. Take Ball Ringer, who purportedly fell 5 or more times to slide on his arse down steep slopes of elephant grass which plunged into the squidgy jungle below. Let us also not overlook the gyrations of Street Cleaner, who, on those same severe slopes created a new French/Belgian break-dancing maneuver as he catapulted downward in ‘cartwheeling freeform fashion’ as a crab-like creature that simultaneously somersaulted, pinwheeled and gyrated with gravity hurtling him on a ‘descent extraodinaire’ – lucky he didn’t break his own neck!

V V’s culinary prowess shone yet again, as PH3 coffers funded our magnificent picnic feast of robust & tasty veal and pork sausages served in baguettes with dollops of sauteed onions and most other condiments imaginable under the sun; this well-balanced board of delights also featured vegetable salads garnished with ever-lovely French cheese crumbles.

Circle: Our often heavy-handed GM somehow obtained volunteers to sit on ice in receiving Hash Trash items of dubious worth - She’s The Boss, an XXL T-shirt that was too big for him; Flatulence, a poofy salmon-pink hanky that was way too small for his long-drink-of-skim-milk presence; the aforementioned trail offenders were also iced to get their Hash Crash designations.

GI Joe demanded Run Comments from the Circle:
Ball Ringer (the trail offender today): “It was the highest, toughest undulation in the elephant grass that got me!”
Velcro Dick: “OK, save for all the fucking mud!”
Really Sadistic Bastard: “All good, as it was all convenient for the Beer Hunters!”
Phantom: “I was a virgin Beer Hunter today, so I agree with RSB!”
Golden Rivet: “ “, a common response from GR, yet somebody saw him running on the walkers’ trail and gave him a beer…..
Anonymous: Biblical quotes from somewhere within our circular peanut gallery wafted over us…..I don’t remember details and couldn’t determine who so eulogized.

The GM then explained today’s special raffle activity, the ‘Wheel Of Fortune’ Raffle! Raffle ticket winners spin the wheel and get further directions therefrom whereby he/she may earn a prize (designated by a pink ping pong ball) or a visit to the ice bucket. The GM, whom we all know was a Prison Officer in his real life, is from those days well-experienced in operating on both sides of the law; emblematic of the GM’s nefarious capabilities was the fact that the Wheel of Fortune was obviously rigged – this was evidenced in that the first 8 ‘spinners’ all went into the bucket (including Knickerless, Dame Liberace, Lost Cause & other unlucky Hash souls). The next 8 ‘spinners’ were miraculously accoladed as prize winners, and each got a pink ping pong ball (each numbered 1 thru 8). Really Sadistic Bastard, who has never ever bought a raffle ticket in his joint & several decades of Hashing, found one as a Beer Hunter and won 1st dibs at/from the prize table to waltz away with a stainless-steel barbecue unit! Other winners included Rattlesnake (you should have seen the look on his face as he collected his ½ meter-long Kris-style Malay dagger….all Australians are born illegitimate!), Patpom, Smokey Trucky Fucky, Lucan Made Me Come, Casper and Happy Survivor (last prize winner, taking away two Hash T-shirts that sat forlornly on the otherwise empty prize table….).

Emperor Airhead then finally iced the Hares, who had so far come away unscathed due to all the fanfare of the above Wheel Of Fortune. The Circle reveled in unison at their misfortune as EA proffered lengthy congratulations to Casper for food coordination and her sense of duty in doing so; the GM as the organizer and brains behind today’s effort and for being selfless with his time dedicated to PH3 (yet still deemed to be an extraordinary wanker!); Dirt Looney for taking over PH3 website duties from the currently injured Wank King’s Wanker and for his vast experience as a hare & runner, who, in conjunction with the equally knowledgeable Sperm Polluter, laid superb color-coordinated trails…..walkers with pink paper & runners with white.

Flatulence sat on ice as thanks for his duties as registrar and then migrated to the bucket for drinking copious dark-hued wine coolers; still adorned with the Hash Trash toilet seat, EA regaled us with the true story behind the ‘unmanly’ salmon-pink scarf/hanky worn by Flatulence, who was quoted to quip ‘this trendy scarf reminds me of a young man I used to know at school’…..EA exiged that Flatulence drink ‘no more dark wine coolers’! EA’s next iced target was Festering Fish Face, whom he accused of ‘now having a personality since he joined the PH3’; FFF’s mate, Don’t Squeeze My Balls, was also iced and given the nickname ‘Don’t’ for future usage in the Circle.

Visting Chiang Mai HHHer, ChuckWow, told us from the ice that the CH3 is ‘poxed’ and has hence split into two warring factions! One contingent is the ‘Gobblers’, or Chiang Mai Gentlemen’s HHH……Na Hee Man and Crap Thai (another CH3 Hasher) were iced together; the former for being a #1 snitch in trying to foment discord amongst the CH3 groups, and the latter for failing to show adequate interest in CH3 politics – after all, it is his home hash (supposedly!).

Ich ein en Uli Von Berliner (aka Ging Gang Goolies) was not thrown on ice for once, yet was awarded his 100 runs T-shirt…..’get a life , get a life, get a life, life,life!’
Pussy Snatcher hauled Sperm Polluter & Casper on ice to enlighten us about the ‘Wheel Of Fantasy (not Fortune!)’ hanging above the head board of their love nest at home……SP revealed, ‘there are only 2 choices: pussy and A-hole (what about her gob?)’.

Lord Chicken Fucker told us that he hardly even cracked a sweat on today’s ‘Wanky Walk’ and didn’t bother to change his shirt afterward. He then iced GI Joe and referred to him as ‘Shithead I’ (not quite sure why…..). Ball Ringer was then iced and accused of role play activity with his son Ben 10, via which BR was the Big Bad Wolf and BT was Little Red Riding Hood; the upshot being BR, naked at his son’s bedside, read a bed time story to his beloved son…..

LCF then iced Cannonball and repeated his previous call for assistance on the walk: ‘Fellow Hashers, please help me get this fat bastard Cannonball out of the mud!’ LCF then excoriated CB for failing to find a new girlfriend from the pool of pizza parlor waitresses who all work where he gets his daily pizza pie…..’in fact, you should change your diet to muff-diving, lose some weight and get on with successful courting’, said LCF; ‘Or perhaps you should just head down Boyztown and quit wasting your and the waitresses’ time!’. CB stepped into it, admitting that he lives adjacent to Boyztown; LCF then iced Atomic Muff Diver with his wife, Oh No! accusing AMD of ‘shitting himself and fancying a leg over with his wife’ (not quite sure how this came to light!)…..

Dirt Looney led Hash music to the tune of Sukanya. ‘Please don’t take a knee’, and with 8 down-down beers remaining, Sperm Polluter called in 8 HHH idiots to drink them in unison with him as he lilted ‘The Final Down-Down’…..this rabble then led the Circle to a close with the Hash Hymn.

Today’s OnOnOn was a boozy, musical affair at Hustlers Bar, where ice buckets of cold beer and pleasant acoustic live music were the order of the evening. Incoherent conversations, poorly played pool games and plenty of singing out-of-tune abounded.

With PH3 event #1900 behind us, let us all hope that the current Covid-19 pandemic will be gone ‘as shit through a goose goes’ long before PH3 event #2000 in 100 weeks’ time unfolds in approx. October of 2022…..

On-On!  Na Hee Man


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