HASH 620 Friday 02 February 2018
Hares: Thomas The Wank Engine and Cock-a-Doodle Do
A good turn out of 29 would be Olympians converged upon the run site somewhere between Kedawang and the airport southern boundary guided by a useful map in the directions.
At precisely 1730 the social club ambience of the gathering was rudely interrupted by a loud military style order to quickly form the circle…..or else!
In the absence of Small Ball Cock the acting unpaid GM successor, King Penguin, informed all present that from henceforth a new progressive ethos would prevail within the hash. No more there be any comment or admiration of women’s bits (this did not last long; see later), and neither would there be any mocking of those of other personal preferences (or tailgunners as referred to within the aviation community). From now on inclusivity and equality would shine forth. A new era has begun. Those dirty minded dinosaurs unable to adapt would have to bugger off…..er….apologies. I mean “go away”.
One new shoes (in this case new flip flops) performed a gravitational miracle by drinking from one.
The hares briefing was just that. Brief but precise and giving options for walkers and runners. So off we went, on on.
The run was well marked through rice fields and villages with a divergence for the keen runners, although most followed the W sign having been referred to by the W word for so long. A few encounters with frisky horned beasts occurred and also a ferocious guard dog, but the brave hashers strode bravely on toward the waiting reward of cold tiger.
Back at the circle two virgins, 5 returners and various miscreants had to be dealt with and a jolly Aussie volunteered as executioner. A new role of Hash Snitch (or was it Hash Snatch) was created and Tartan Tart was quick to volunteer and accuse Golden Shower of causing dissent by complaining of having to drink Anchor beer instead of Tiger. This resulted in much flying of cold water and yet again Tartan Tart ended up with a wet T shirt. Does she still think that constant watering will make them grow?
The new Hash Dog was named “Dog’s Bollocks” by common consent and eagerly demonstrated his oractory detection skills by directing his long wet nose like a high speed exocet missile into any unsuspecting backside bulls eye. He also publicly and without shame repeatedly performed acts of gross indecency on the other dog present. Clearly an excellent hash dog in the making!
As for the new hash politically correct ethos, this was completely demolished and thankfully confined to history by an illustrious visitor from a Turkish hash in demonstrating one of their rituals which is to punish any lady who is seen to attempt to cover her droopy bits with crossed arms. Three of our ladies were found guilty of this offence, which again called for the attention of the happy executioner. So, back to the filthy old pre PC days.
The tasty meal was nearby at Bora Bora although one car load of small attention span but hungry hashers had to circumnavigate the airport in trying to find it. Fortunately the willing staff did their best to ensure that the latecomers did not miss out.
Another good run, good laughs, good company and a good meal. Thanks hares.
HASH 619 – Friday 19 January 2018
HARES : King Penguin & Arse
It was raining a little for this second run of the year 2018.
The direction on the website was not really precise, with a name of the road unknown for a lot of people …. So some was lost but finally everybody arrived.
The GM , Small ball cocks called to form the Circle.
No new shoes, normal, who would have the bad idea to wear new shoes when they know they will have to drink in ! Beurk, beurk …
The Hares gave the direction of the run and “c’est parti mom kiki “ . Ça démarrait très fort, going down in a narrow sentier in the jungle, through a lot of rivers and rubbishes… to arrive at the road, near the new Chinese Temple which is very nice, and up until the hill behind where a lot of runners lost, but great view ! Coming back through Chinese village and arriving à la case départ.
Why many runners were lost ? Because the Hares did not have flour to indicate the way ! It is strange there is around 27 kg of flour in the storage !!!!!
Circle called by the GM, who gave to everybody a note concerning some changes for 2018 on who’s who and who does what.
The but de ces nouveautés? Apporter un peu de fraîcheur et attirer de nouveaux Hashers.
HASH FLASH – Bugger Me , our Official Photographer. She is in charge to realize some “Group picture” and other fun pics. A voir dans “The Word” (web site).
Next Run : Hares ? ??
HASH SPLASH – The Executioner. We had a fantastic one Taking The Piss. A dancing executioner, très très drôle. Il s’est amusé comme un petit fou à “doucher”, les Virgins, Visitors and Returners. Super Taking the Piss !
HASH SNITCH – A new role for Golden Shower. He was very good with his sunglasses, style Mafioso. Très très bon. He punished the Germans Sauerkraut and Johnny Walker talking in foreign tong.
No HASH HERO but a HASH TURD, Sorebum. She was very lucky to have a real turd (a little dry) direct from a cow !!!!!
We started with our MASTER of MUSIC, King Penguin, the traditional Hash Hymn avant de partir dîner.
Nous nous sommes tous retrouvés au restaurant My Chef in Kuah. Food absolutely delicious and abundant.
One more time, we had a very good Hash and a lot of fun.
Hou, Hou …..
Next Run : Friday 2, February 2018
An eager and motely lot gathered in a
quarry on the outskirts of Ayer Hangat.
GM Small Ball Cock got things underway by having Maid in China drink out
of his shoe to amuse the virgins and other sadists. Hares (Bugger Mee and Sodomizer) gave clear
instructions which were immediately ignored by runners who took off like Usain
Bolt wannabees straight past the first turnoff, ultimately giving the walkers a
good head start. Were they smug? Noooooo.
The mostly flat and scenic trail took us
through another quarry, wooded areas and villages with cheerful kids with their
usual curiosity and smiles. Two dogs
also completed the run – Hash Kash and Arse and King Penguin’s virgin pup who
has yet to be Hash named. Lots of
chatter, beer drinking and catch up with old friends ensued whilst we waited back
at the quarry for the stragglers. And waited and waited. Finally, the Dutch duo went out in search of
French Tart, Fish n Tits and Cod Pish - and came back 30 mins later without
them! Finally, the 3 Lost Souls came
staggering in, probably having walked about double the course.
THE CIRCLE was then duly called by the GM.
The virgins (John, Lesley and Darcy) were welcomed and duly executed with iced water by Sheep Farter with flagrant disregard for the execution rules, even when they were explained. Returners were then executed, along with Tartan Tart for complaining. French tart also demonstrated how to say Whoo hooo in French, which sounds like ewwww ooooo to those of us not so cultured.
Then it was onto a naming ceremony for Steve. As it turns out, he quite likes peeing on himself (in the name of healing cold sores – well that’s his story anyway). And he even silenced the group, which is a terrific feat in of itself since Small Ball Cock can never do this, with an admission he has even drunk the stuff! Without a doubt his hash name had to be “Taking the Piss” which unfortunately, he liked.
Hash Heroes were Coming from Behind and Prick van Dyke for just looking so damned good. No, seriously, they had volunteered to do the run again to look for the Lost Souls. Tartan Tart got the Hash Turd for her stunning display of whinging. The enthusiasm of the Poms for finally being able to pass the whinging trophy to a Scot was notable.
King Penguin lead the closing song and as it was getting dark quickly, we soon departed for the restaurant.
All in all, it was a fine event which ended
in a sumptuous and plentiful Thai dinner at Martini’s.
Good on the Hares for organising it all. A truly delicious meal and fitting end to a very good Hash.
Next run will be Friday 19 January 2018.
24 Santas or Santa look-alikes gathered together for the annual Xmas hash.
The hash began as usual with the HARES, Small Ballcock and French Tart, or woo hoo as she is also known, telling the Santa look-alikes what an easy run they were about to embark on.
Knowing that our GM had already told us right was left when it should be right, immediately had some of us a bit suspicious about their assurances, or bull as it is otherwise known! Nevertheless we embarked on our way without too much fear.
Not too far down the runners route we came across a bull covered in shi., and tied up by his nose and looking at us like he felt like having a go, well who wouldn’t if they were covered in shi,, and tied at the nose except that being tied at the nose is a bit of a handicap if you have the idea of charging at the top of your mind, not to worry about the smell of the shi.
So we carried on regardless - good name for a MOVIE!
Soon after pondering about being lost and what to do, we spotted our beloved GM though the dusty haze of the December evening, so either we were alright or he was lost too!
We managed to chat to him and realized he knew where he was which made an admirable change and gave us more confidence having walked 25 minutes of what we were hoping would be a 15 minute walk!
Shoes smoldering we plodded on.
Eventually we arrived back at the base where we were greeted by French tart or Woo hoo as she likes to be known, and we were all treated to a show of culture and wit and some of the worst jokes that the assembled throng could could think of.
And to prove that worse could be improved upon, Tartan Tart then gave us her rendition of How Much is That Doggie in the Window, but…. (with a single t!) backwards!
As the sun, like us, finally decided enough
was enough, we all headed off to CoCo’s where we were treated to a fine Chicken
Meal and Santa’s amusing gifts from us all. My Elton John glasses were declared
to be funniest, but Prick Van Dyke did well with his Ennemmaa - another well-deserved award!
And whilst we enjoyed our meal, Lyn bin Defuzzed was declared hash hero for the coming year 2018 which is now upon us. We wish her Bon Voyage and A Very Happy New Year to all of our Hash friends.
With big thanks to Small Ball Cock and French Tart or WOO Hoo as she also likes to be known, for a fine run.
28 April 17
Hares: Mettehari and Larshole
For those who live in Kuah directions to the Angry Buffalo or the Happy Hog, or Smiling Frog (so many to keep up with on the exclusive side of the island) can be a bit of a challenge. However, with the hashers' inbuilt sense of direction the one attendee from Kuah made it just in time for the calling of the circle by….Made In China! What is this, a takeover, an ousting or a military coup? Seems that our erstwhile GM Small Ballcock pleaded to be excused duties due to a loss of voice. Not that anyone noticed this ailment as his verbosity seemed to be in no way diminished.
In the circle one new shoes paid the penalty. It was obviously a cunning set up as it later transpired that he was a guest of Made In China. So, eleven hash persons and one dog were given somewhat complex and oft repeated directions by Mettehari to such an extent that by the time she had finished many had forgotten where she had started. Only the dog, Hash Kash, seemed unconfused. The main point that she emphasised was the number of checks and false trails, and for the first runner to scrape the check point with his or her foot to indicate the correct direction. Amazingly for rebellious hashers this rule was adhered to and worked well. Also a warning to beware of frisky water buffalo. We were, nearly having lost Lyn Bin Defuzzed to a horny beast one time before. She also had a problem with a bull.
The run commenced and within one minute both the GM and his stand-in being so engrossed in deep and meaningful conversation completely missed the trail arrow indicating that we should turn right and they blissfully continued straight on. The rest of us turned right over the bridge and alongside the river. The trail came out by Cenang Walk and then veered left across the road and into the paddy fields and water buffalo country. It was here, down a long and winding path, that Yours Truly found himself lost and alone. Not a grain of flour anywhere and no sight or sound of the front runners. So, following the setting sun I was surprised to come across both GM and his stand-in similarly searching for flour, and still engrossed in deep verbal intercourse (no, that is not a rude act) about the meaning of life, and sex, and sex, and…….
So, we forged our own trail through the paddy fields and eventually found our way back but upon reaching the run site, instead of being welcomed home we were subjected to abuse and derision for delaying proceedings. However after a cold tiger all was once again well with the world.
In the circle again and this time the volunteer executioner being the now miraculously recovered Small Ballcock. Proceedings were ably conducted by Made In China who drew our wavering attention to many completely irrelevant facts. One more interesting iota was that due to the rape and pillaging of the Vikings 30% of Brits have the “benefit” of Danish blood in their veins. Our Danish hares stood proud! We were then told that it would have been a much greater percentage but the Vikings also enjoyed raping the men but to date no subsequent colonic conception has ever occurred (although George Michael was reputedly working on it). However, when looking around at so many arseholes walking about UK I find that hard to believe!
Two virgins were present and one of them, Emma, a very pretty, articulate and demure young lady kindly explained to all what a cameltoe is, what it looks like, and how the female anatomy…..ahem…..down there…..can mould itself around tight fitting apparel so as to be visually on display even when not. If ever there was a conversation stopper this was it. Even Small Ballcock was choked into silence which was only punctuated by the sound of heavy breathing. The drooling old men of the hash were dumbfounded in disbelief and so asked her to explain it all again, which she did. Feeling faint, more tiger beers were needed. How did this fascinating conversation start? By Made in China who had earlier most rapturously announced that men can now buy cameltoe briefs and hide things in the bulge. This was almost too much. It then transpired much to communal embarrassment (not an emotion generally familiar to hashers) that the lovely Emma is Made In China’s daughter. Wow! What to say except soreeee Martin. After that no one had the energy for the usual rendition of “Swing Low”.
And so, On On to the food. It was at Shin Mei and was delicious and plentiful and in a very nice setting. Well done to the hares for a well laid run / walk along the river and through the paddy fields. The checks and false trails worked well apart for those of us with ancient and feeble eyesight, and well done for organising the great meal.
Report Run No 610.
Hares Karsanogenic, oh how I love that name, and MucArse, with more than a little help from Kate the slave cyclist and Hash Cash who savoured most of the trees en route.
Premierement, I wish I could speak Francaise because the last report sounded so sexy!!
Secondement, we met just past PL Soon Huat and some of the ladies arrived only just in time because they could not pass such a big shop without stopping to buy something.
Turdement, Small Ball Cock called the circle and could not find any fools with new shoes and despite a lot of abuse he kept his upper lip stiff and called in the Hares at about 6.03. They described the run in detail telling us all about cows, horns and udders amongst udder things. Then canals and roads marked all on the right and some left and right and walkers and runners. Although it was Good Friday I was already beginning to feel not that good.
Anyway after all of that we finally set off at about 6.30 towards the cows who luckily were tied up and could not ssharge. The four runners quickly streaked off into the distance hooting merrily at the nobodies behind them leaving us walkers strolling along and pondering such things as why Arsenal are such an awful football team, why people decide to get married and Larshole kept looking out for skirts, wishful thinker, he may need some counseling!
Lyn Bin defuzzed very quickly became disenchanted with the walker’s pace, company and bull…..chatter, so she chose to become a running walker which is probably a sin.Undeturd away she went.
About half way around what was a lovely flat and picturesque, oooh more French, run/walk, we spotted a few of the local landed gentry astride their motorbikes under a bamboo tree in the middle of nowhere. It was already dusk so they could not be sheltering from the mid day sun…..so who knows?? On On.
Soon, well not that soon actually, but several kilometers and lack of flour later, we neared the end, and once again passed the cows who luckily did not ssharge our brightly coloured T shirts, raised the odd horn that was all, and we got back to find Lyn Bin de fuzzed already on her third tiger….but no runners in sight, quelle strange!
The reason for this was soon revealed, Tartan Tart had been looking fruitlessly for flour of which there was a dearth, so she failed to notice a foot high boulder in the road which she then tripped over pretending to be an Arsenal player but in this case really injuring herself. The other three runners – all ladies incidentally – shame on us men, stopped to help her which eventually earned them hero status. Had it been men the outcome may have been different - probably would have been arrested…on on.
So back at the circle we formed a rough circle. Yours truly managed to find the only spot above an ants nest with some embarrassing results which we will not talk about in polite company.
Executioner, Lyn Bin defuzzed volunteered and was clearly concerned about her role as a running walker, to the extent that given the option of self execution (there must be a word for this) or executing somebody else she promptly doused herself in icy water, sure sign of a guilty conscience.
Virgins, sadly none. Newcomers two. Beth and Kate and they were welcomed with the usual lack of pomp and ceremony.
Deserters – too many for me to remember we almost ran us out of Skol. Let’s hope we will have a few returners at the next one.
Larshole raised a sensitive question about financial irregularities claiming dfuzzed (for short) had been seen peddling off the island on a shiny new bicycle and the cash box key was missing. Dfuzzed countered with an accusation concerning the locker not being locked at all, a situation which I sadly had to concur with. There goes my free beer stash. A battle of criminal minds ensued and GM despite constant abuse from the crowd stepped in to mediate and sat them both on Ice. This left GM with a dilemma (French?) because he now had no executioner. Bravely in stepped Mettehari delighted to fill the vacant role.
Naming discrepancy. GM noted that there had been a naming discrepancy on run 609. Cod Piece as he was wrongly christened should really have been called Cod Piss. (more francaise)
Hash hero. Further endless discussion and abuse of the GM, resulted in all four running Ladies, so Tartan Tart, Coming from behind, Mettehari and Hanneballs Letcher all being awarded the honour.
Hash Turd – I think was both Larshole and dfuzzed, but if you said it was un trompe, you may be vrai.
The anthem was badly perfomed as usual by GM and yours truly, both often swinging low or cummin' in the wrong places, but the skol ridden crowd loved it anyway.
The meal was at The Roof restaurant, or maybe the 7 Roofs restaurant, and saw a new worrying segregation emerge amongst our ranks with one table made up entirely of women! The men could not get a foot in, or would that read better as a leg over. Needless to add that one table also turned out to be a noise hazard under the new health and safety for runners rules.
Food was great, excellent variety and taste.
Next run on 28th at 5.30. Hares Larshole and Mettehari.
Say sa. Fini. Un tres bon newt had by all.
Mademoiselle en Chine
Hash Run #601
A back entrance to this hash site (which turned out to be the starting point for the run) provided Tartan Tart the perfect opportunity to arrive an undetected 2 minutes late, just before King Penguin called the opening circle.
despite searching desperately for new shoes, none could be found. Mafioso Mongrel narrowly escaped punishment for sporting non-regulation sandals. Yours truly at least felt K P a tad too soft on that one!
With hares called to the circle, MucArse proceeded to completely confuse us all with a long convoluted explanation of the run (turns out that described it perfectly!). She ended with saying that the circles had been marked a la Mockie Ball - Oh No! was the cry - the route could be behind us - No, not behind you came the reply. Ok, so a la Mockie Balls, but not!
A merry band of 6 FRBs then took off at a scorching pace - well the weather was scorching, the pace perhaps not so much!
The sleekit Scot and her Sassenach sidekick soon had the FRBs all at sixes & sevens with their devious trail marking, and the lead changed several times much to K P's disgust.
Despite all that, towards the end, after K P covering at least 1 km more than others, normal formation resumed. Tartan Tart however was usurped of her usual first lady home position by the visting Lady Hornblower ( a grotty yachtie no less!) who set a blsitering pace along the long hard home straight to finish a midges behind K P.
Her claim to be 'not in shape' added insult to TT's injury! Her excuse? - she was led astray by some local boys!
A good 15 - 20 minutes after the FRBs returned to base, the SWBs (slow walking bastards) emerged chatting and smiling with not a drop of sweat visible amongst them! in stark contrast they were followed in by an extremely sweaty (or should that be glowing?) MucArse, and the darling little Cash, who would later be awarded Hash Hero for fathfully following her mummy to set the trail and not complaining once.
K P called the circle to attention, and clearly overcome at being usurped, TT volunteered to be scribe (something she had managed to escape for 9 years!!). Sauerkraut womanfully volunteered to be executioner, and after some strange German ritual of rubbing ice on your head, duly executed herself in fine style and was awarded the job.
Whilst devoid of virgins, there still remained much to be punished, and although the hares escaped punishment due to their run being deemed a good one, KP did try to pin one heinous crime on them; - the unauthorised purchase of a new book - to which they swiftly deflected all blame to the absent Small Ball Cock - he will be severely dealt with next run!
Our visitors; Captain & Mrs Hornblower were duly welcomed in Langkawi Hash fash, and the many returners also received a soaking.
The awarding of the absent Hash Shit was deferred until next hash, as the deserving recipient was also absent - or perhaps all lobster dinner attendees from the hash should have a group shit award next time??
KP regaled us with various tedious, eh sorry interesting, facts around this day in history, none of them particularly of note, except maybe the birth of Mary Queen of Scots in 1542, Sammy Davis Junior in 1925, and the shooting of John Lennon in 1980. The first person to tell me next hash who shot him will get a prize.
'Imagine' was suggested as the closing hymn in tribute to the great JL, however, suddenly KP burst in to the usual Swing Low with actions - hmmm..imagine that!!
With the hymn just finished and the hares having announced where dinner was, Old Bailey & her friend Jackie (2nd run) were spotted rushing off to their car whilst KP was still trying to impart some vital information about the next run. they were starving they claimed. These CHOGMettes, I don't know!
Finally it was off to Shin Mei for a haphazard but tasty repast.
Well done MucArse, Karsanogenic & Cash.
THOSE DESERTING HASHERS WHO OPTED TO ATTEND THE LOBSTER DINNER WHILST LEAVING THE REST OF US TO TURN AS RED AS LOBSTERS IN THE RELENTLESS HEAT WLLL BE DEALT WITH ACCORDINGLY UPON THEIR RETURN.
AND AS FOR THE ORGANISER, WELL........!
We gathered at Alyssa Villas in the splendour of the rice paddies. Hares Mockie Balls, Ball Spanker and Bugshifter (Bugshifter claimed not to be a hare just a consultant and your scribe believes this as it was clear, as with all consultants, his advice was ignored) informed the pack that the run would be short and flat and unusually marked. That it was. It was not just the small paper squares marking the trail that was new to the crew but as it turned out, Mockie Balls, claimed to have imported the trail marking rules of the KL hash. In your scribe's humble opinion, Mockie Balls made that up as well as the alleged KL rules.
The hash set off on the promised flat run and managed check #1 without incident. Check #2 was confounding to the FRB's as all forward paths were unmarked. After many minutes it finally occurred to the pack to run back from the check and lo! the trail was found. Check 3 was equally confounding as it was on a straight piece of road and runners checking all directions found no paper. At this point while confusion abounded and rancour arose in the ranks, a few short cutters simply abandoned the trail and headed for home. Foetal Fungus led the lazy bunch of wimps with no staying power with a cry of "we'll make our own run". The stubborn and persevering True Blue hashers kept at it and finally came up with the trail. Post 4th check 'King Penguin had run double the original trail's distance in search of paper but still bounded off to head the pack home.
The pre-circle discussion seemed to focus on whether the KL rules (apparently they are you can do wtf you want) were legit but the HHH edict "There are no rules." was finally remembered and all was forgiven.
In the circle we had some visitors and returners not to mention Tartan Tart who forgot to put the new earlier start time on the website. Mockie Balls and Ball Spanker were in the chilly chairs and pipes for some made up reason or other. Meanwhile Miss Alyssa declined to present herself for naming. We saved it for the restaurant and she was duly named forevermore "Alyssa in Wonderland".
Small Ball Cock went on at length about Run 600 (YES, THAT'S THE NEXT ONE AND DON'T FORGET IT).Important items:
Bring extra money to buy nice wine at a good price
Don't forget the new start time 5 for 5:30
3. Don't be late!
4. RSVP SBC ASAP
A chorus of Halleleujah in honour of the late great Leonard Cohen and we were off to Coco's where we had outstanding food and a great evening!
And that darlings, is that.
SCRIBE REPORT HASH RUN 595
"The Surprise Run"
Yes indeed a run full of surprises. First surprise - a dozen, possibly a baker's dozen, of participants turned up which was a lot more than the hare's expected.
Another surprise - no rain!
And yet another - no run! The run that was not a run.
And final surprise- Johnny Walker and Black Label put in an appearance.
Intrepid GM Small Ball Cock called the circle and searched for new shoes which were found on the feet of Hare Larshole. A shoe was duly christened with a beer and the hares declared that Hare Mata Hari would lead the Hash on a stroll through the outer edges of Kuah while Larshole foraged in search of beer for the surprisingly large turnout!
All went well as we pleasantly paced through the surprisingly interesting housing area skirting the Commonwealth shooting range. But - Surprise! After emerging from a trek through the jungle the front walking bastards waited in vain for the slow buggers. A search party went out and eventually returned minus only one hasher -Damp Dennis- who had decided to ditch the walk and was found wandering miserably by Larshole and driven back to base.
Meanwhile mosquito bitten and thirsty, the intrepid fore- walkers carried on bravely and arrived ready for the GM's frivolity.
The circle commenced and Bug Shifter volunteered to execute while Arse was press ganged into Scribing and promised a thoroughly jet lag version of the run.
There were many returners, a couple of Virgins and a surprising number of deserters.
SCRIBE REPORT FOR RUN 594
HARES Tartan Tart and Lyn bin Defuzzed
GM Small Ball Cock
It seemed to be raining everywhere on the island. Threatening skies but as ever, the Hash gods smiled on the Hares and the harriers. Our meeting place, between Padang Matsirat and Kuala Teriang, Padang Sailors Sausages remained dry all afternoon.
The intrepid ten met in the middle of the padi. In the words of the water babies, Metahari and Larsole, a cosy group. No new shoes and after instructions in Scottish and Kiwi we set off none the wiser. Through the padis back to the road, runner Matahari leading the way from rambler, Small Ball Cock followed by the amblers. We went through pretty, well kept kampongs and then up and up. Matahari decided to take all the false trails and I was surprised when I almost caught her up. But then more up and more up till we came to a spot with stunning views. Not easy to appreciate when gasping for oxygen.
Now the easier bit, down down back to the lovely kampong. But not that easy as French Tart said 'it was very slippering'. To the road and back down the track across the padi. But our sneaky Hares changed the direction half way so we were diverted round the graveyard. Although a couple of Hashers took no notice
of the diversion.
All back after a seven plus kilometre run/walk.The circle was called. Your humble GM decided that Metahari should be executioner as she had only ever been the precipitant of water but never the donator. Just for a change she was given the choice of executing herself or her husband to see if she was up to getting the job. She thought long and hard for two seconds before deciding to execute Larsole. What a splendid job she did to earn the job!
Three returners from memory, Feetal Fungus, Lyn bin Defuzzed and Bugshifter. Then deserters, Tartan Tart, who is off to 'Club no where near the Med', Karsenogenic and MucArse.
I decided not to use our Chilly Chairs as everyone would be wet enough. A decision I slightly regretted when realising nattering addict, Karsenogenic was pandering to his habbit again.
There was a saga involving the short cutting bastards, Feetal Fungus and MucArse. They accused a couple of local kids of tampering with the Hash sign. So they changed it back round and returned the wrong way. They were duly punished and later awarded the Hash turd for casting aspersions on locals.
Hash hero was French Tart. Despite a tough week, she still managed to write a funny near English scribe and turn up with a smile on 'er visage.
Throughout, Matahari was doing a fine job of soaking all those guilty of crimes. I understand that she and Larsole have such an infinity with H2O that they sleep on a water bed and their neighbours downstairs frequently complain about water coming through the ceiling with their antics. We made a reasonable stab at the Hash hymn but missed King Penguin's theatrics and Arse's harmonies.
We then headed to what is known as 'The Boat' restaurant on the Telaga Harbour road. Jolly good apart from Matahari being charged rm18 for a glass of wine. No water games that night for Larsole!
Our Water Babes will be our next Hares on June 10. Well done Hares for another lovely, and as usual, different Hash.
ON, ON YER BASTARDS!
Small Ball Cock
Scribe Report Run 590
Hares Floppy Rod and Old Bailey
GM Small Ball Cock who had some explaining to do to Malazyarse how he came by that name, she is still confused.
The location was near to Kampung Keda on the Ayer Hangat Road out of Kuah. The circle was duly formed or in this case an egg shape at 6pm.
29 attendees attended?
Floppy Rod explained the run and apologised because he thought it might be a little shorter than usual. That was definitely an Aprils fool joke! He explained something about not going to the indian reservation because we might be eaten and also not to cross the main road, because there were wild pigs and we might be eaten.
There also a mention of a couple of false trails, back to the April fools joke again! Floppy Rod also pointed out there was a shorter path for the walkers, marked in the road with a big W. He explained this stood for Walkers or Winkers (I think thats what he said) It turned out to be the latter as the false trails put the runners way behind the walkers. Devious, as I tried to be a runner! On On.
Small Ball Cock welcomed the returners, the visitors and Virgins Jackie & Georgia. Late comers Hannabals Lechter & Leading Astray. Sorry if I have the names wrong, as by this time I was 1, suffering heat stroke 2, thinking of Tiger Beer 3, I couldn’t read the GM’s writing & 4, I was wondering what a virgin was!
Shoes were inspected and one volunteer stepped forward and duly drank a beer out of one shoe and a bottle of water out of the other. Watering down beer, there must be a punishment for that. Forgot name of new shoes, still thinking about virgins.
Stumbleweed achieved a personal best, well done.
All got back safely and nobody was eaten, which was good. GM appointed executioners, unfortunately there was a slight mishap and Malazyarse thought she had performed a real execution. But after a hind lick manoeuvre all was well. I hope the victim is fully recovered. Malazyarse left the circle because she thought she might be sent to Gitmo. Be warned she will be back!
Hash Turd Rectal Check, appropriate I guess.
Ria was named, suggestions being Gonaria, Diaria or inherria by this time the beer had taken over and everything was starting to get blurry, so not sure what was finally decided..
Time for food and Hashers were pointed in the direction of I think it was Seafood Superstore or something anyway it was next to YL’s in Kuah. Lovely it was too. Too much on offer to name, but it was delicious.
Next Hash 15th April, Hares Coming from Behind & Prick van Dyk
Hears to the next run On On
Hash 589 Scribe.
The GM welcomed a good and varied bunch of new and ageing Hashers to the 589th meet at a location close to the Buffalo Farm.
The circle as deigned was formed at 6pm on the dot and all shoes were inspected.
Australian Garry was found to have made the Cardinal error of wearing newbies and was of course punished as the law requires with a down down.
Hanneballs Lecher and Soranus ,our two Danish Pastries and Hares described the run in detail.
The run was reasonably well marked around the Farm (although various comments were made as to the frugal use of flour) leaving a few of our more dim hashers confused.
The positive was that in such a hot time, much of the run was in shade for which the hares should be congratulated, but not too much.
King Penguin and Adrian de Turd were the early finishers and as usual and the circle was duly formed.
PISSARTIST had a mobile phone call from URINATOR and was duly punished for leaving her phone on and was duly volunteered to write the script despite a pending 6 day trip away from the Island. (Sorry if this is a little late)
Executioners were appointed
The general opinion of the run was fair to middling, (a triumph in Hash terms)
The GM began proceedings.
Visitors were brought into the circle followed by a Hash Virgin followed by returners in the guise of Sauerkraut …..
The GM pointed out that in the latest survey of happiness The Danes were the happiest people in the world due to an over consumption of Pastry, Carlsberg beer ,streaky bacon sandwiches and a complete ignorance of the fact that they pay 65% tax on their pensions
For reasons not readily apparent ,the Swiss ( home, in ruins, of the beautiful game) were No 2.
The most Unhappy were the South Africans which we agreed was well deserved and a toast for Made on a Train.
Naming of Peter and June.
Peter gave a detailed history of his medical history and urged all Hashers to be tested for Prostate Cancer. Hurray!
He was baptised “Rectal Check”, a popular decision by everyone although a close runner to “One Up The Bum” which was decided was too anal for the solemnity of proceedings
June, from Malaysia,who explained her career as a nurse and occasional porn film extra, but who now does nothing was duly named Malazyarse
The title Hash Hero was given to Rectal Check for his charitable work , big smile and highly polished scalp.
hash Turd was bestowed on…cant remember….
Hares for the next Run were selected and our musical director King Penguin lead us in the Hash Hymn.
The meeting was adjourned by the GM and our happy band of brothers/sisters made its way to Coco’s for a fine repast of curried chicken and rice, the Malay version of the great British speciality, chicken and chips.
SCRIBE REPORT RUN 588
Once upon a time there were two little boys named Hans und Armin.
They were very sad little munchkins who lived in strange houses, built by an enormous and very terrible Swiss Ogre. The reason they were so sad was because they had no friends and the local people were very nasty to them. It must be said that they did have secret friendships with 2 little girls from the village named Lys and Gerde.
One day when the people had been particularly nasty, they decided to get their own back and this my dearly beloved kinder is what they did:
They posted a notice saying that there would be a wonderful entertainment with food and drink and drink and drink and drink...... Now, my dearly beloved, do you suppose that when they had lured all the people to the entertainment they greeted
them as they normally looked? Oh no, for these were clever little munchkins, and they disguised themselves so that no one recognised them. Now this is the clever part - for they sent all these people off on a wild goose chase promising many rewards if they should return quickly.
Now these clever little munchkins had laid a trail of flour and paper which was designed to confuse even the most intelligent of the people - though truth to tell there was not much evidence of that amongst these idiots, known as they were as the bungalow people (nothing upstairs!).
Suffice to say that the bungalow people wondered around for days ( well minutes) eventually returning by luck to where Hans and Armin were laughing themselves sick at the great success of their jolly jape. Now it must be said, dearly beloved that
our Bungalow friends were not best pleased to be made fun off by the former objects of their own scorn. Apparently on a wild goose chase, sauce is neither good for goose or gander!!! Instead they set about our little friends throwing icy cold water and forcing them into undignified postures on frozen tiny chairs, poisoning them with a potion made by a particularly offensive Danish Ogre by the name of Skol.
Worse was yet to come when the chief of the people, the dreaded Grand Bungalow Meister ordered that they be subjected to the vilest of name calling. Our little munchkins were it seems henceforth to be known as 'Armin deep shit' , whilst little Hans who already had a name was taunted with 'cock a doodle don't'.
Finally the GBM decreed that their 2 little girl friends be called, for Gerde - 'dirty gerdy' or 'deep shit', and for Lys 'any Cock'l do'.
And that dearly beloved is the end of our tale. I expect you want me to say that they all lived happily ever after, but sad to say they were all 4 banished to a far off frozen country, whose name I forget but is something like Sheizerland or maybe
H3 Langkawi Beach run #586 5 Feb 2016
After we gathered with many nearly lost souls, a circle of sorts was eventually formed IN A CARPARK!! at somewhere close to The Oriental Village; hares ( or one of them - Tent Packer) looked extremely harassed partly due to a lack of ice for the all-important beer and water etc. At last co-hare Speedie turned up, ice in hands and GM was able to restore order.
Following a stirring speech welcoming all to run 586, a search was conducted for new shoes; this turned out to be fruitless since we all had the same old grubby footwear that has seen maybe one two many runs.
This completed the hares gave us very explicit and (not) easily interpreted directions, with several references to dusky leaf monkeys, Tigers and elephants. More about elephants later.
Off we went.
Most walkers were back within 20 minutes, yours truly's calculation of distance was 1.68 km. Tent Packer hotly disputed this, but the matter was settled over a beer.
Executioners job was given to Hannibal Lecher, with occasional assistance from Coming From Behind.
There was one lonely visitor/virgin - K.J. from Nairobi, Kenya, but hundreds (sic) of returners, including your humble scribe. The executioners were most kind to the writer of this splendid missive, missing my poor old head by inches with the apparently icy water. Thank you CFB.
Jeff having completed his third run, was up for naming so a number of members contributed suggestions, none of which was suitable since there was not enough use of the word Arse.
Eventually, a solemn ceremony ensued, bestowing him with the name forever more of - "Karsanogenic"
Two Swiss Meanies whose names were indecipherable were punished for not buying shirts for their second run. Methinks SBC was a little tough on them but that is only an opinion.
Tartan Tart copped it for some crime involving an item of underwear but that seems to be her lot, generally speaking.
The Danes Soreanus and Hannibal Lecher, who protested due to their non-allegiance to Royal Personages, nonetheless were punished for not knowing that this was the birthdate of a lovely Tasmanian girl AKA Princess Mary of Denmark. I was ready to forgive them for the non-allegiance, but HRH is an Aussie! - hence no sympathy from Bugshifter.
Hash Hero turned out to be the aforementioned K. J., who performed a noble act, saving the life - or something like that - of a poor local girl in the CARPARK. I think I got that right.
In the absence of Floppy Rod, I presume he won the right to hold the Hash Turd for yet another fortnight. Well deserved in your humble correspondent's opinion.
We had a very low key hash hymn led by that master and mistress of stage and song - King Penguin and Arse.
On to the meal; it was ok!
Hash Run 581 – 27th Nov 2015
All Hashers met beside the Pink Bridge on a parking lot close to the Pulau Langkawi. We were told to bring our new sexy coloured T-shirts – to return them to the shop. However, our GM changed his mind – so we should change to wear our new T-shirts – and we changed – not as he had dreamed about – in front of him. We should change, to find out, which T-shirts were running most; our newly washed ones or the new one just bought by Johnnie Walker .
The circle was formed, and we had no virgins.
One of the Hares, Mettehari told us very detailed, where the flour spots were and the other Hare Larshole stood friendly and supported her.
It was a very nice run. The run was on the roads in the paddy fields in Pdg. Matsirat. We passed cows, which Mettehari carefully had placed on strategic places on the roads, and small chickens to show us the right way. Small groups of children were there to show us the way, when we were lost, and they gave us thumbs up when we were on the right track. We ran confused around to find or hear from the leader of the pack – King Penguin.
When all runners and walkers were back, and we all looked at Johnnie Walkers arhh - virgin wet pinki/ black (T-shirt), indeed, the colour had run out. Wash it in salt, was the advice.
Bugshifter again interrupted us. This time he demanded more flour spots on the run. He was punished by sitting in the chair and King Penguin as executioner punished him from above with lots of nice cold water.
The Hares made it well and received their reward.
There was one returner, Sue and she had not yet been christened. The unchristened hasher told us about horseholes and lessons on how to ride and minor important things about her job career and family to find the best and nicest hashname.
Cumming from Behind and Prick Van Dyke were punished by sitting in the chairs due to running with their smartphones – secured in a belt on the arm. Think it is a good idea for the future – if something happens on the run - to be able to call for assistance or, if a lonesome hasher has lost his/her way…..
It was Larshole’s birthday, and therefore he was invited to sit in the blue chair. From the GM, he received a present - a small box of biscuits. When he opened it, he saw to his surprise that there was only one single, soft biscuit – long time over its due date – an old brown biscuit in the plastic box. All the others were eaten by GM, French Tart told us……..
Next was to find the Hash Turd and our GM pressured us to vote on French Tart, as she had argued with him, but surprisingly he won the Turd again, and as if he had known the result, he had secured his small parts by one of the newly bought sweat towels. His pants sucked water from beneath by sitting in the chair and from the front by the executioner.
At last we christened our new Hasher MucArse.
We celebrated Larshole’s birthday at the Brasserie and the dinner very good …..and what a Birthday cake. Fantastic with the pictures of us from the Red dress Hash run and a nice photo of Larshole…..
On and on
Sorenus & Hanneball Lecher
In closing, we hope to see you all healthy and driving again at the next exciting Hash!
Your Scribe, Prick van Dyke
Venue a private location in Kuah
On a very hazy Friday as far as I could see only 3 people showed up:
Two tarts and one fag
So that was fun - no preparations, thinking about run, new shoes, worrying about enough beer
Because the three girls had to catch up after WFH's 6 week absence - we almost forgot about the run!
In the end still chatting we made a go at it. Leisurely taking the lift we turned to the right,
there we found to our surprise a total new village almost ready to move in.
Being 3 nosy girls we even managed to get inside one of the houses
That turned out to be a false trail but we found our way out
Being back in the house we skipped the circle and punished ourselves with loads of drink
Yes this really a total different hash butttttt only once a year please
Missing you all
ATTENDANCE: 2 Tarts & a Cock -
Cunning Linguist said he was going to be there, but like his recent scribe report never appeared!!!
We set off on a route Small Ball Cock professed to have scouted beforehand, however, not even 5 minutes in found SBC floundering in the jungle, battling through the undergrowth. After watching this comedy for a few minutes, Tartan Tart decided to take matters into her own hands and led the way neatly towards the actual path, despite having been told earlier that that was not the way!
Dusky monkeys spied on our threesome from on high as we wended our way passed the jungle. The intention was to make this a jungly, kampung run as a change from the 2 beach ones we had done the past 2 hashes, however on account of French Tart's inadequate footwear we left the monkeys and pretty houses behind and headed once again to the beach, where the offending chaussures were at once removed.
Narrowly avoiding being squashed from above by the flying tourists coming in to land, we embarked on a lovely stroll along the length of Pantai Tengah.
The evening was finished off nicely with a superb meal at La Pari Pari.
SCRIBE REPORT FOR RUN 573
HARES No Flour and No Toilet Paper
GM Gone Missing
ATTENDANCE counted on one hand
After a very wet week and with so many people having gone to Europe for rain without heat, us remaining stalwarts decided on plan B. Plan B being Bollocks to Hares setting a run, Bollocks to having a circle and Bollocks to getting even wetter.
So we met at Scarborough Fish and Chips for an 'ash Amble. This is very fitting as the town of Scarborough is in Yorkshire in the UK and it always rains there, that is why Yorkshireman (and women) are so miserable.
The seven of us set off for a pleasant amble down the Tanjung Rhu beach. It turned out to be a dry, pleasant evening. Even the security guard in front of the Four Seasons was pleasant and did not shoot at us. We returned an hour an a half later, no false trails and nobody got lost. Maybe if Pussy Liquor and Pink Pussy had have been there it would have been a different story.
No circle because we had only enough Hashers for a square, so straight into some cleansing ales.
No prizes for guessing where we ate. Fine dining as we ate À LÀ CARTE. That is not a meal by the way. We went Dutch, which means we paid for ourselves. Strange expressing as in my experience the Dutch prefer anybody else to pay for them rather than parting with any money. (With the exception of our darling Fag Hag.) Fish and chips washed down with a few beers or juices. Another fine Hash.
Small Ball Cock
SCRIBE REPORT RUN #567
The Poxer aka The Poxy Hasher-
(with apologies to Simon & Garfunkel)
I am just a hasher
Though my story's seldom told,
I have squandered my existence
For a pocketful of ringgit
Such are promises
All lies and jest
Still, a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest.
Langkawi ...,Lie-la-lie..., Langkawi ....,Lie-la-Lie...la-la-la-la-lie
Having only 30 Ringgit
I come looking for a run
But I get no offers,
Just a come-on from the hashers
I do declare,
There were times when I was so
I took some comfort there.
In the clearing stands a circle
And a GM by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of all hashers that have laid him down
And cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"You Dutch will get the Chilly Chairs
And there you will remain.
SCRIBE REPORT FOR RED DRESS RUN (566)
HARES Johnny Walker and Black Label
GM Johnny Walker
We gathered at one of our favourite sites, past Padang Matsirat wet market on the right for Langkawi Beach Hash's first 'Red Dress Run'. We have talked about doing this for some time but Johnny Walker finally instigated this to have his dreams come(?) true – being surrounded by hot, sweaty men in dresses.
Everyone was dressed in red and mostly in red dresses and accessories. Prick Van Dyke even wore lipstick. Thank goodness he is a front runner and not bringing up the rear.
It was nice to see Cunning Linguist back for the run and some new faces as well as all the old wrinkly ones.
After dealing with his erection (a Maypole that is), our GM called the circle. Johnny Walker looked resplendent (Greek for ridiculous) with long, blonde tresses. Although I do not think the collar and cuffs matched. Someone cruelly suggested renaming him Johnny Wanker or did I imagine that?
The circle was called and our GM stood on a box, not very ladylike for someone wearing a short skirt! No new shoes and the choice of run and walks were explained. We set off at our various paces from sprint to amble through some beautiful countryside. The view was slightly spoilt for a time when I had to follow Larshole, who was wearing a tutu, up a steep hill.
Luckily we past few houses. The long walk was a long walk but very scenic and reasonably flat.
While we were away, a group of young boys asked Wining Fag Hag for cigarettes, but she refused as she was down to her last carton of 200 to last her the night.
Another Hash first. This was the first time Pussy Liquor and Pink Pussy did not get lost, either getting to the Hash or on the run.
The circle re-grouped. Larshole, our most fearsome executioner, volunteered for the job once again. In a bit of a domestic, Matahari tried to knock the holy water from his hand. The GM accused her of assaulting a Hash official and she was punished for this heinous crime. As usual she squawked loudly and drank slowly.
Then came a charge that yours truly, Small Ball Cock had something to do will a 1977 gay doll called Gay Bob. This was endorsed by another committee member, King Penguin. They had previous sent me the email link. I counter claimed asking what they were doing looking at gay doll websites. This was brushed aside under their dresses. Johnny Walker further stated that there was one difference between me and Gay Bob which was the doll's large appendage, hence my Hash name. In my defense, I said the reason I was named Small Ball Cock was because of my love of golf (small balls) and being born within the sound of Bow bells ( a true Cockney), nothing to do with any shortcomings. But the GM was having none of it (and never will!) so I was punished.
Then came the May Queen competition. A panel of three selected five candidates – All Black Balls, Lin bin Defuzzed, Coming From Behind, Metahari and Small Ball Cock. Firstly each candidate had to give a message to the world. These were not exactly up to Martin Luther King's standard. Then some strange German music was played while the five danced around the Maypole. The judges conferred. More blatant victimisation. I was disqualified for lewdness! Just because of my modern take on pole dancing. The over smug, All Black Balls was crowned May Queen and received a floral crown and a bouquet of vegetables. Very fitting!!! Bitchy? Moi?
We then headed off to Shin Mei for dinner. We had a bit of a wait for the food and had no alternative but to drink lots of beer, but when it was served, it was worth waiting for. Their usual fine cuisine.
And there was Big Kok, a Chinese Hasher and the restaurant owner. Maybe it was he who was the inspiration behind (or in front) of Gay Bob.
ON, ON YER BASTARDS!
(not so) Small Ball Cock
SCRIBE REPORT RUN # 562
HARES: JAWS & GOLD DICKER
GM: SMALL BALL COCK
A motley crew of 18 hashers assembled at what had been described by Jaws as 'The Park". I certainly don't hold out much hope of retaining Langkawi's natural beauty for much longer if this is a Malaysian's idea of a park - car park maybe!
Anyway this vast expanse of concrete jungle proved just the job for a hash gathering - shady, plenty of room, and far enough away from the kampung.
The GM called the circle and after punishing a virgin couple for being too twee by sporting identical running shoes, Gold Dicker tried explaining the run to us. After a long and rambling explanation (of which only Golden Shower understood what was said - which is in itself amazing really, as his sense of direction is nil - in fact so poor that he did not realise he was standing in the middle of a run that he & Tartan Tart had set only a year ago!!) Anyway, I digress - what Gold Dicker was trying to tell us was that there was a walkers' and a runners' route.
Off we set with Tartan Tart and Hanneball Lecher taking an early lead. Not for long! Soon the usual FRBs went cruising on by. One of them, Johnny Walker, caused momentary panic to those running behind him as he suddenly veered off the track and into the jungle. When challenged about this later he said he was wrestling a snake, but Tartan Tart said she didn't see anything in his hands when she passed by.
He wasn't the only one to venture off like this - one of our three virgins was also spotted slightly off the beaten track with something small in his hands!
The route was excellent, wending our way passed jungle, plantations and kampungs before arriving back at 'the park'. Walkers and runners came in from different directions, so there was no cheating! - What a great idea hares.
One of our virgins, Kim ( a bloke!) surprised even himself by completing the run, as he was still recovering from multiple injuries after being hit by a truck. On his arrival back he announced to all that he was 'well buggered' - oh, bring on his 3rd run!!!!!
The GM called the circle, and as International Women's Day was nearby, asked for 2 executioners of the fairer sex. Feet all Fungus and Piss Artist quickly volunteered and after 2 attempts were given the job.
The usual round of virgins, visitors and returners were duly punished, as were those 'working women' who had attended the IWD luncheon earlier in the day.
Tartan Tart received the usual drowning, but this time there was a valid charge - putting the wrong hash run number on website - HEINOUS!!
The GM alerted all Aussies to one of his amazing facts, that on this day in 1738 the 1st convicts had landed at Norfolk Island and established a colony - nothing much changed there then!
Hash turd was split - literally - between Piss Artist (for dobbing in Golden Shower for his Stevie Wonder impersonation by wearing sunglasses when there was no sun) and Bug Shifter for a crime which I now can't remember, but one which was quite heinous I should imagine.
Virgin Kim was awarded hash hero for completing the run.
On, on then to dinner at Langkawi Curry House, where they opened specially for us and put on a sumptuous repast - best hash nosh I've had in a while - well done hares.
Arse & King Penguin will set the next run.
Scribe Lepolt Lun No. 561
Ah so! (Or is that arsehole!) Confucius he say 'what you call group of pissheads cavorting in tropical sun' - collective noun 'Hashers'!!
Now Grasshoppers listen to honlabl master sclibe ...
Rong ago in the early Minging Dynasty, a band of warrords and radies come together to cerebrate year of shoat.
Chief warrord smar barrcock say sirence and we ignore. Only thleat of chirry chair sirence us.
After naming of honlabl sclibe, an honlabl executioner ULINATOL he intloduce honlabl hares Plick Wan Dyck and Coming flom behin
Next wirgins flom Canada ( nearly as rare as Dutch!) prove that Canucks will drink from anything anytime by pouring can of skol down throat along with shoe.
OK I give up - this is hard work back to a semblance of English.
A splendid run was set by the spiffing netherlanders, marked to perfection and with a mandarin reward for those who weren't focusing on the beer at the end and ran past the Golden a Tree.
A circle was convened and our 2 Canadian Virgins, Doug and She (whose name we have forgotten -apologies) were properly introduced to the hash. 2 visiting Singaporean hashers, Too Easy and Fat Crashing Bastard followed the virgins into the circle.
These toadies endeared themselves to us all but particularly 3 lucky hashers who received t shirts.
Returners were too numerous to count so we won't mention them!
SBC then summoned into the circle no less than the Executioner herself - Urinator alleged off Spring (ha!) of Golden Shower! She was duly and direly punished with pipes and chilly chairs and a down down for being insufficiently Chinese. She was then punished again for wasting beer (heinous crime). Temporary executioner for these crimes was no less than Golden Shower himself, a model of good parenting.... Spare the rod spoil the child...hmmm!
No matter, with his usual sense of balance, justice and fair play (ha ha!) SBC then offered redress since GS had had a birthday recently and was duly chastised by his vengeful child- don't even go there!
SBC then regaled with his usual riveting summary of date related factoids....
The collective name for goats - Tribe or Trip
For horses - Team
For Monkeys - troop
For Grand Masters - boringfart
Bugshifter easily won best costume for his portrayal of a Chinese courtesan - several of us were tempted but then remembered it was Bugshifter!
Hannah and none of her sisters was then offered for naming. She got no further with her history than her own name... From which 3 contenders immediately arose...
Bride of Frankenstein
She was duly christened Hannahballs Lecher.
Overcome by his earlier award Bugshifter interrupted at this point with the Turkish for Turkey - apparently Hindi - we really wanted to know that thanks BS.
More spurious punishments were then conferred this time to visiting Fat Crashing Bastard who wearing the tubes managed a near perfect ejaculation (of beer!) into his gob from 2 feet away - earning himself the name Singapore Sling!
Hares for next time 'Jaws and Golddicker'
After spirited communal singing of Baa Baa Black sheep and the usual sweet Chariot (SBC suggested Rickshaw but KP forgot) we adjourned to a fine meal as usual at Fat Mamas. At 2200 KP and Arse set of on the second leg of the round island rally.
On on and on
Hares- Tartan Tart and Golden Shower
Hashers united once again, conversation flowed freely- but not beer...not yet! For now the hashers hydrate responsibility. A virgin was chosen and forced to perform mandatory drinking of beer from his new shoe. Then, all hashers made their way to the beach. A bang and the run commenced, the more ambitious runners led the pack down the beach, jumping over potential faceplant material- the ropes holding the fishing boats to the beach. Suddenly the beach came to an end and after some confusion the hashers turned left heading into Padang Matsirat. Winding through a little village, the locals watched in amusement as the hashers struggled on, feet dragging on the pavement and bellies aflop. Emerging into the town centre briefly, the group hasddispersed, the walkers lagged behind like the saggy arse-end of a sumo wrestler. Some had even lost their way. Others had broken rules and would be punished! A quick passage into the beautiful sunset reflecting rice paddies led us back to the main road, and back to the start point. Hurrah we made it in one piece! Sweating profusely, hashers were congratulated and accused, but all received a reward- a nice cold beer! Most enjoyed the run, some with masochistic tendencies bragged that it should have been harder.
This is where things begin to get a bit blurry- especially when the scribe is punished again and again, made to drink beer (how cruel!). Was it foetal or fatal fungus? (both are worthy! Please don't punish me again!) and what is this beer soaked piece of cardboard and all these arrows?...oh...my notes! So I'll do my best, but please be gentle...I'm still a virgin!
So... the executioner- we'll go with Foetal Fungus- stepped forward ready to punish with her cruel torturous methods. Then the dibber dobbers stepped forward (where I come from- 'down under' we punish them too!) and spoke their dobs. The walkers were punished for taking a shortcut. Gold Dicker and Buck Shifter were forced into the chilly chair “Fuck that's cold!” and then performed a splendid back to back reach-around for the group to enjoy. I definetely remember that. I also remember Debbie Does Dallas entertaining the circle with her hip shaking belly dance. I think Ta Darling, Fucking Near Water, Jaws and Lady Bugger were also punished but it was rather mild and involved an icy glass of water over the head- some would call that invigorating. Jaws and Lady Bugger were punished again for wearing sunglasses- a dictatorship will not allow this! Suddenly the attention turned to the executioner- who confessed she completed her “own run” because she “ran out of fuel on the way” AND had falsely accused another hasher of running in sandals! The tables were turned- “Power to the People!” and she is punished. None were spared that day...well the GM but shhhhhhhh...Spotlight on the virgins! Mark and Nathan and myself, Layla- punished for our purity and youth and accused of starting first and finishing last- we dutifully accepted the beer and regretfully the icy cup. Mark and I were dobbed in for piggybacking in the race, and the group touted and hooted for us to re-enact this crime the right way around- piggyfronting?! More public humiliation. The highlight of the evening undoubtedly was Maid in China's passionate ramble, complete with arms flailing. Im embarrassed to admit I couldn't figure out what language he was yelling in, but I was definitely impressed with his acting skills and uncanny resemblance to Michael Douglas.
Finally, trials completed, all hashers left the scene of the crime and headed towards Soprano's where a lovely Italian meal was available for us to soak up all the alcohol and sober up before the drive home. Or keep drinking beer!
Hash Trash Run no. 559. Hares: Maid In China and Bug Shifter
25 deluded would be super athletes turned out for this one, somewhere in the outer ulu of Kuala Teriang. The hares tried their best to confuse everyone as to the exact location from their full page of contradictory directions that had us driving around in ever decreasing circles until arriving at the last challenge, an almost impassable pot holed track leading to the run site, a surprisingly secluded and pleasant clearing.
At their pre-run briefing the hares shamefully attempted to excuse any confusion by shifting blame onto the GM for ordering a last minute change of venue. GM indignantly refuted this suggestion which resulted in a dancing display of teflon shoulder jiggling and animated finger pointing, accompanied by more than a little shouting. Decorum was sadly lacking, but what to expect from a displaced Englishman suffering alcohol cold turkey, a hot and sweaty Aussie and a Lutonian banished to China! Order was eventually restored and the hares proceeded with their run directions, the conformance of which to the hash rules was hotly contested by King Penguin. Again, order was restored and at last we were off.
It was hot hot, and the course led ominously toward the hills. Fairly tough going for the Old Timers along a myriad of winding trails through secondary jungle which required scrabbling over fallen trees. The checks helped to keep the pack reasonably together, but greater urgency to remain in sight and sound was because no one wanted to get lost up there. The trail eventually levelled off and with less huffing and puffing we were able to enjoy the changing scenery of secondary jungle and the shade of an abandoned rubber plantation. Almost suddenly and when least expected we were able to look down from the top of a ridge and below was the welcoming sight of the clearing from where we had started, and seconds later with an ice cold tiger in hand the world had become a much better place. On the trail in we passed a dead cobra and viper on the edge of the track. Now we know why the hares advised us to bring along our parangs. Well done hares. A good run.
Now more shenanigans! After the virgins and returners had been dealt with by our gentle executioner Tartan Tart, the scribe from the previous run was publicly admonished for having been perceived to have been less than complimentary about the GM in his writings. With North Korean style vengeance towards dissention the Dear Leader ordered said scribe, on a trumped up charge of talking, to endure more time than is humanely allowed in the ice chair. The crown jewels have still to return to form and function. Also selected for this cruel and unusual torture was poor Jaws, who suffered such loss of feeling in her nether regions that she thought she had grown some jewels! Next to be singled out by the Dear Leader were all women present with boobs and bras. Still trying to work that one out, but all apparently in the good cause of International Women’s Day. Unfortunately none of the women agreed to separate their bras from their boobs and burn them (bras that is) and due to such an unsporting attitude the iced water continued to flow freely. The grand finale was again the hash hymn of Swing Low, followed by marching to the North Korean national anthem……no, that last bit is made up!
Makan venue. Another first at the Jamaika Rum beach bar. Excellent Lovely setting and thoroughly enjoyed by all.
Run 558 09 Jan 2015
Hare: Adrian De Turd
So, Hash day again! The highlight of the fortnight for the 20 or so sad souls who converged on Kedawang for yet more ritual abuse and humiliation.
Two confused and apprehensive virgins who looked as though they would rather run away nervously joined the group. No new shoes this time so the hare, one very smart and organised (for the hash) Adrian De Turd presented his faultless pre-run guidance. His run, set from his pedal velocipede, was well marked with two fairly parallel courses marked for both walkers and runners. Only problem being that the course marked W was interpreted by most hashers as being short for WAN_ERS so most automatically followed that trail! The course was flat, easy going and picturesque with meanderings through kampungs, orchards and with rustic views of paddy fields, and was favourably complimented by all. It returned us all to the run site pretty much at the same time, with no one lost, and in good form for the GM’s increasingly erratic antics.
First the two virgins were made to sit in the ice chairs. Almost a tense moment as one initially refused but faced with the prospect of more madness from the GM he decided to duly accept his punishment. Returners were identified and more humiliation followed until virtually all present had received the ayer batu treatment.
One visibly disturbing aspect of the GM’s derangement appeared to be his fascination for those he judged to be less manly! He clearly enjoyed selecting a number of “pretty boys” by the smoothness of their rosy cheeks (reminds me of my old scoutmaster) and had them sit together awaiting anointment. Moving on……
Down downs were gladly consumed as part of the price for a drenching, but none more enthusiastically than by one honourable Swiss member who broke all records in making his free beer disappear. Virgins were again drenched and much to the delight of all the hash lechers the new lady soon sported a very wet T shirt.
The award of Hash Turd went easily to King Penguin who then led us enthusiastically into communal singing of “Rawhide” with plenty of jerking whip action (hands out of pockets boys), followed by participation by all into the prancing and rendering of “Swing Low”.
A break with tradition was the venue of the On On at the more upmarket Coco’s with mat salleh food in place of the usual nasi and makan. No complaints though as the dinner was excellent and the setting perfect.
Another good one.
Run 557 - 26 December 2014 Boxing Day
The 557 run was held in Padang Lalang area and was arranged by King Penguin and Arse from their lovely home Tiga Pulau. The runners were surprised by the visit of Santa Claus in his reindeer car and all the presents were gathered in his big sack. Small Ball Cock, the GM, opens the circle and two newbies came with new shoes, one German lady and a Swiss guy. So in went the beer and they had a jolly drink from their running shoes. All the runners and walkers were glad it stopped raining cats and dogs and counted our blessing. The hares King Penguin and Arse explained that there were two runs, one for runners and one for walkers. The run started with a beach stretch to Naam party area and then into the mangrove forest on to the rice paddies. While running in the mangrove forest it started to rain and thunder, by the time the runners hit the rice paddies it was raining real badly with lightning all around them.
King Penguin came to the rescue of the “swimmers” still trying to run by shortening the run a bit. Most flour was washed away making it hard to find the trails. The walkers collectively chickened out and took short cuts back to base camp. Completely soaked we all huddled together in King Penguin and Arse’s big house where the circle was formed again.
Executioner was Adrian The Turd from Australia because he was constantly playing with water.
We had 4 virgins, 1 from Germany, 2 from Switzerland and 1 from Singapore.
There was also a large group of returners, about 6 or so, on a total of 24 runners.
On behalf of all the walkers Mafioso Mongrel was named Hash Hero and no-one got hash shit because Lady Bugger still has it. Because of Boxing Day it did not only rain but it snowed heavily especially in the blue chairs for plenty of natterers for various offenses not to be made public in writing!
King Penquin and Arse sang multiple naughty Christmas songs and the group happily joined them as they were easy and funny to sing along. They also were thanked for a very nice run with beautiful views.
After the circle we all rushed to Scarborough for a splendid BBQ and Arse had made homemade brownies and Sauerkraut had banana cake for dessert. There was so much food making it a truly exceptional Boxing Day.
King Penguin then proceeded as Santa and alphabetically handed out from his big sack the presents one by one making most happy.
The next run is 9th of January, HARES NEEDED!!!!
Scribe by Coming from Behind and everybody: HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Run 556 – 12.12.14
Angesagt ist ein ganz normaler Run, wo man auch wieder ein Begrüssungsküsschen und Handshake austauschen durfte etc.
Lyn bin defuzzed und Sauerkraut „vermehlten“ einen tollen Run in der Nähe des Café Bukit Jalil. Everybody could do this run easely even with FLIP-FLOPS. It was also possible to runthe course more than once (voluntary!) ………………………and nobody looked after the run like 99(anniversary of Frankie Boy on 12/12) even if a Dutch lady did the run almost twice . But finally she reached the finish only a few minutes after “cuming from behind”
Apropos newshoes Mafioso musste seine fast neuen Schuhe richtig “eintrinken” (with a canofyellowtea), obwohl sich Claudio die allergrösste Mühe gab, sie alt aussehen zu lassen!!!!!!
Die Neulinge Dee und Gery von U.K. wurden willkommen geheissen.
Die Returners Sore Bum, Mafioso und Andreas (Herbalife-Man) mussten sich auch Mühe geben, das Bier/Softdrink „in time“ auszutrinken…
Die grössten Schwätzer (Chief sittingballs and Johnny Walker) bekamen die kleinsten „Höckers“ und für die kalten „Aerschlis“ war auch gesorgt.
Die Neubenannten: ROB – Prick van Dijke
Irma – Coming from behind
and the Flip-Flopman - Brittany’s Spear
King Penguin und Brittany’s Spear received the hash-turd
(UEBERNEHME KEINE HAFTUNG).
King Penguin finally started a self composed song with following words – Oh Lord one to me ….. twice to me ….. thrice to me ….. and so on …..The food at Fat <mum’s place was great.We wish to all the Hashers a good time, Merry Christmas and a Happy NewYear.Link see google translater!(ACwdo)
Run 555 28.11.2015
It was supposed to be a special run – since it was the 555th! And special it was:
1. No kissing, no hand-shaking...wondered if some kind of plague had arrived on the island; or was the religious police hiding? Then it became obvious: we had to give each other “5”.
2. only a few illiterate and some aliens from other parts of the world showed up in proper Hash-T-shirt; all the others came in home-design-outfit; some better than others, some pathetic – won’t mention names, but it was obvious that Swiss labour costs are too expensive – some had been outsourced and others done with skills, love or special intentions, some with all of these.
A competition followed later for the best T-shirt; a of 3 international designers “passionatas “ Mettehari, Lady Bugger and Jaws fortunately looked through all of this and gave the prize for the best junior t-shirt to Kitty-Litter – a very symbolic 3 boxes of 5 chocolates – nobody mentioned that 3 x 5 is actually 15 and not 555; the best senior t-shirt was rewarded to Tartan Tart who despite being the busiest hasher amongst all these retirees and holiday makers must have spent hours of creativity to come up with this Hash-Poem:
Today is Hash Number 555
On Langkawi Island hashing’s alive!
Off we will go on Johnnie Walker’s run
With games and prizes it sounds like fun.
O’er hill and padi we will sustain
On on through Kampongs and maybe mountain
Flour dots, circles and crosses are waiting
I hope King Penguin’s not navigating!
5.55ks to complete
What is that in yards and feet??
Down downs galore they will be sunk
The GM dishing more than the usual junk
With questions and riveting facts for you all
Need to know stuff that’s sure to enthral!
Then off for some good old Irish stew
Where are we eating? – Therein lies the clue!
Or did she know what the prize would be (a Bin 555 bottle of red wine? Had the prize been whiskey I surely would have no doubts that there was some cheating....)
3. Against all rules GM decides to start the run at 5.55pm; another symbolic gesture which turned out to nearly reduce the numbers of hashers.
So we hung around for 20 odd minutes twiddling our thumbs, being controlled by another new invention by the GM called the “LIEUTENANT” was kept circling the circle to denounce chatterers.
Eventually we got on our way on that absolutely beautiful hash run; we all agreed on how beautiful it was. Only it would have deserved more stylish marking; cheap toilet paper was stapled to bushes and trees along the way; at least a better quality loo paper would have done a better job and not dissolved by the rain or carried away by the wind; fluorescent one would have been a real help; and since Johnny Walker didn’t think that far (where is Vorsprung durch Technik gone?) he had to do the hash run again to usher everybody home. Got rewarded Hash-Hero for that later.
All runners were back in daylight and with the marking of the trail still in place; a different story for the walkers who were held back by chatting, getting lost, having accidents crossing a bridge (or what was left of it) but in the end everybody made it back to the circle; needless to say that by then it was pitch-black, the thunderstorm hat gained momentum and hashers were finding refuge in cars and under umbrellas;
What really happened in the circle can’t be reported in details due to the lack of light and order; only that Worm as an executioner was pretty useless and should go on an executioner training course as he even spared the few Hashers who could have been punished.
No more can be said than that we had dinner at Coco’s where the wait was long but the Profiteroles heavenly and some plates hardly needed washing as they were licked clean.
(and if you wonder why I had to stop here, count the words.....exclusive of the poem and this comment)
SCRIBE REPORT RUN 554
'To be or not to be': Well the hash meeting place could have been Elsinore, but more likely some weird version of Legoland. Either way our jolly hosts, Mettehari and Larshole were definitely Danish though Hamlet and Ophelia - I think not.
A circle was formed, though it looked more like a semi circle with Tartan tart standing on her own opposite the rest of us- someone should tell her that eau de haggis does not make a good deodorant. A couple of Dutch virgins ( you don't see those every day!) gave up their new(ish) shoes to a Skol christening. Johnny walker was congratulated for his command of the English language in the scribe report, including the use if a little known descriptive noun 'Frothcoming' - believed to describe either German beer or imminent orgasm. The hares briefed us on the run and we were on our way. Larshole thoughtfully distributed sick bags and invited us to fill them along the way with promises that the nearest to 1 Kg of vomit would win a prize. Strange tastes these Danes, but then they do like pickled herring.
Saurkraut led the way over a bridge, carefully avoiding any gravel traps and the FRBs, KP, TT and the soon to be renamed Kevin overtook. Skilfully avoiding the manic feral cows, except for a Dutch virgin who with recent experience of bull fighting in Seville took on a calf single handed and lost miserably! With 5 false trails promised, the hashers were puzzled at having run 3 km with not a circle in sight, and then like buses 5 came along all at once. With his unerring instincts, KP managed to take every false trail, whilst TT cannily waited and took the correct ones. At the 5th false trail and 1 km of wasted running KP was heard to mutter dire threats against the hares; this cost him dear later.
Several hours later the hashers limped in and a twilight circle commenced. The hares were congratulated for an excellent run. Our cow loving Dutch virgins (raving bull and silly moo!) were welcomed, a visitor from the Trinidad hash was also greeted. Returners were also duly doused.
SBC announced 2 namings, Kevin the kiwi and our Trinidad Hasher who it turned out was really German. After brief biographies, the namings were postponed until the meal.
Hash hero was Saurkraut for her splendid display of diving on the previous hash. Slow down SK - you know what they say 'a stitch in time saves 9 or was it 8?'
Hash turd was awarded to KP for alleged moaning and hare abuse: TT was the whistle blower, typical scots perfidy! The arrangements for the 555 run were announced and all hashers instructed to make their own themed T shirts.
At another excellent repast in chin mee, Kevin was duly christened 'All Black Balls', whilst Mat, our German Trinidadian won the splendid accolade ' Materbator'.
ON ON KING PENGUIN