HASH FLASH:

Housewarming Update:

Runs Well housewarming party: Saturday, November 1^st, from 5pm.  “Every hasher is invited,” he says.  Ask him Sunday if he’s regretting those words.

Street 29, house no. 30Z

Ball Update:

The Hash Ball will be held Saturday, November 22^nd, at The Living Room, Street 306 (off Norodom), garden drinks starting 6:30pm.  Formal attire (of any nation).  Tickets are $35, $10 for Khmers who have been on more than 15 runs.

Hellhound Update:

The Hellhounds return to Velkommen Inn this Friday, October 31^st.  Come for your weekly dose of rock and lutefisk. “Slightly different line up and sound, should be good,” says Check Around.

Medical Update:

Flaccido Domingo:  getting better.  Canadian guy:  upright, breathing.  Thanks to hash management who ordered him whisked away to safety.  Perhaps we can trade in 2^nd truck for medevac helicopter.

Thai / Burma Border Update:

Interhash on weekend following the Hash Ball in Mae Hong Son, on the Thai / Burma border. Contact Blah Blah or Leaking Duck for further details (or if anyone has details / website please post in comments).

P2H3 Run #883 – Wherefore art thou, leech?

Date:  26/10/2008

Hares :  Wannacracker, Runs Well & Yogi Bra (running), Phlegm (walking)

Run Report:  Blah Blah

“Yeah though I walk through the paddy of rice I shall fear no sake, for I have the malt of truth, the hops of hope and the barley of courage to guide me.  Ye gods, are those leeches?… get it off me, get it off me…. aaaargghhhh!” [Hops 13:11]

Like a perverse arsonist the pack returned to the scene of the crime of Run880 near Kambol however the much maligned Flacido Domingo wasn’t in attendance having busted his ankle in a traffic collision involving a stationary bike and a sober Flacido.  Apparently Mr Tinkle, ever the consummate host, had attempted to limit any collateral damage with a bag of ice artfully placed on the middle groin however this adroit piece of first aid failed to deliver the flaccid one from his predicament.

It was a live hare and some interesting comments were to be heard during the run which primarily consisted of slogging through knee deep water and checking for leeches:

Blah Blah was heard to actually recommend that hashers follow Phlegm.

Leaking Duck was heard contemplating as to where the hares planned to go on a run that finished where it started.

The virgin from Canada, David, was heard to say “Hmmnggfffh” as the allergic reaction to the ant bites kicked in and his brain shut down.

“My legs are killing me” was heard from Herring Choker whilst on the walk.

Mr Tinkle repeatedly said “I heard about that” when being informed of some his more memorable antics of the previously Friday.

“I’m sure you remember me,” was muttered by VC to Laverne, to which Laverne replied “sok sabai”

“No, honestly I’m ok on the paddy, I’ll be fine, it’s all under contro…. gloop” was heard at regular intervals by virgin Betsy as she sank further in the quagmire.

“Bugger, I’m at the front” was heard from STD as he used his GPS to great effect, and ultimately to his demise.

“I’m glad my shorts are still on,” was heard from Yogi Bra at the end of the run.  Make of that what you may.

In the end the pack never caught the hares, though with the fastest hashers either having done the Pursat 10km race that morning or were currently the live hares there was little chance of a snare.  With the RA out for the count Milky Discharge took up the mantle as Marilu and Simon bundled the dazed David into one of the trucks and rushed him off to a local bar they frequent in TK where the palm wine is reputedly strong enough to negate any ill effects he may have suffered from the bites.

In all a lively plod through the paddy with some weary hashers and the pack was oh so happy to report a leech free run.
On On to next week.

P2H3 Run #882 – Pursat Town Run

Date:  25/10/2008

Hare: Blah Blah

Run Report:  Ikea

> Laverne, Ikea, Blah Blah, Herring Choker, Checkaround and Phlegm

> assembled at Pursat’s Magic Fish restaurant at 4 pm for the Pursat

> Outstation Hash, really a warm-up for the Pursat River Run.

>

> Herr Blah-Blah bolted off into the wet backblocks of town with his

bag of flour asking for a ten minute start from the pack. We gave him

> five. At first the marks were irrelevant – locals pointed out where

> the hare had gone at every check. But when we encountered a check at

> a 5-way intersection, the rot of demoralisation set in to the tiring

> pack and we agreed to end the malarkey and head for home.

>

> At the finish we could see the hare still diligently laying his trail

> on the other side of the river.

>

> Reviving Anchors were drunk out on the weir in the middle of the

> Pursat River, looking upstream to the Cardamom Mountains. A beautiful

> and peaceful spot.

>

> Things turned ugly the next day in the hellish heat of the 10k run.

> But that’s another story.

>

> ON ON!!

P2H3 Run #881 – Land of Confusion

Date:  19/10/2008

Hare:  Simon (running), Marilu (walking)

Run Report:  Yogi Bra

The Gambler.  Simon bets it all on red, comes up shy an ace.

Sigh.  It’s not easy being hare.  Stumbling around in dead heat on a Saturday, contending with rivers, rice paddies, cows, highways, and other burdens nature throws in the path of a perfect trail.  Add to that the economic crisis, the rising price of spray paint, the whole Russia / Georgia thing, the Mexican Drug wars, Preah Vihear, today’s hare has a lot weighing on his mind.  Against this backdrop, who has time to get all hot and bothered about the particulars of a trail.  The Phnom Penh hash, that’s who.

A lot of whingers, this hash.  Starting on the truck:  too long, too bumpy, tree branches in face, etc. After a grumpy, shaken pack disembarked from the trucks we stood around while Simon told the virgins the low down.  Then we stood around some more.  Milky Discharge proved a stellar stand-in, but Blah Blah-less hashes can be a bit rough around the edges.  Finally we started running … straight into mud, water and mayhem.  Nothing new, however things would take a turn for the worse.  Many times it seemed every trail was false.  One started to wonder if the large amount of cow droppings on the trail were more commentary than random acts of nature.

At one junction, the pack went left after some confusion.  Runs Well, foreign spy VC, Andres, Karl, and Yogi Bra headed the opposite way on the right trail, but couldn’t fathom why the pack was still running the other way.  VC, Karl and Yogi Bra gave up and followed the pack, but Runs Well and Andres actually ran the entire, correct trail (don’t worry, they were punished for it).

No sooner had we all been reunited did we see the truck looming in the near distance for the half-way, a mere 3 kms or so after the start.  All the decorum and restraint the pack had mustered quickly vanished as they turned on the hare.  The usually gentle and mild-mannered Herring Choker went all Viking on Simon’s ass, demanding to know why he hadn’t recalled the pack when they went astray.  Note:  Do not make this man mad, ever.  While Simon attempted to simultaneously apologize and blame Blah Blah and some local children, the pack got right nasty and would have buried him up to his neck in Royal D had there been any.  Note:  Do not make these people mad, ever.

The second half was quite nice, many hashers being wooed into a reluctant contentment by the fading, golden light and the lotus blossom fields.  And there were some nice, long, unambiguous stretches in the cool, afternoon shade.   But, novice hare and brave volunteer Simon deserves our appreciation and respect for a solid effort.  The runners and walkers came to the half-way and finish almost at the same time – in fact, we kept bumping into them and many times the runners were even behind them.  And keeping the pack together is technically a goal for the hare.

With our fearless leader mired in sand and gin & tonics in Sihanoukville, Assistant GM Milky Discharge bravely convened the circle.  Simon was toast, but not ice, and Milky reminded the pack of the grueling chore of haring, in an effort to make amends and not scare away future hares.  In contrast, the walkers seemed quite pleased with their afternoon and hare.  Go figure.  The few virgins had numerous abuses among them, like technology and new shoes, but the pack took pity.  Celebrating anniversaries:  Phlegm, Herring Choker, Hit On Me, Spillage, Matt L., and possibly a few others.  And this week saw the return of Sarsy, always cause for celebration and unease.

RA Flaccido Domingo was in fine, bellowing form, cowing the hash sinners.  The guilty:

VC from Phuket – strong aversion to clothing; Phlegm – rampant shortcutting; Runs Well, Andres – rampant trail-following; Check Around – loss of soul (though he carried it in his hand).  The hare got called in thrice for various crimes, but his nether regions remained too warm and dry for some hashers.   Note:  In process of collecting extra large block of ice, roomy enough for two bottoms, so beware next week Blah Blah and Simon.

The Pursat River Run was announced for Sunday, October 26^th, (see announcement below on blog), in addition to a special outstation hash in Pursat on Saturday, October 25^th (see details on main website).  The Hash Ball was also announced for Saturday, November 22^nd, details to follow.

The on on on was at hash favorite Golden Cabbage, where, had Simon and Marilu showed up, all woes would have been soothed by a giant rocket of Anchor beer.

On on!

Pursat River Run

Pencil in Sunday October 26 for the Pursat River Run.

The run starts at 5.45 am.  Dear God, that is early.

The idea is to arrive in Pursat on the Saturday afternoon for registration. Get an early bed (concentrate on GIA: Goal-setting, Imaging, Arousal) and try to subliminate the lingering hangover from Mr and Mrs Tinkle’s party on the Friday night.

At 5.45 am the next morning you will haul your disoriented body around town for 5 or 10 ks, kids passing you the whole way, then later wobble back to the Railway Station in time for the Hash.

You should do it.  Proceeds are for a good cause and Pursat is not far away.  Organiser Steve asks you to pre-register your intention to take part.

http://www.pursat10km.110mb.com/contact.htm

Maybe someone can organise lifts, share taxis etc.

P2H3 Run #880 – Vanity Despair

  

Date:  12/10/2008

Hares:  Flaccido Domingo (running), Snake Charmer (walking)

Run Report:  Blah Blah

And the hare spaketh thus. “I wish for praise, for it shall to be long and remembered for its ferocity.”  And the pack cried in alarm and covered their private parts with both hands. [Hops 13:03]

The clouds frowned with disdain yet threatened no rain as the pack gathered at the station,
“I have set a long run”, Flaccido bellowed to all, “I expect a standing ovation.”

Off to the South of town, yet confusion abound as the trucks were constantly stopping,

It soon became clear that the hare was unprepared as was doing a spot of shopping.

After many a strange turn, some voiced concern that the run was going to start late,

Yet Mr Tinkle remained calm as the sun headed West and resigned himself to his fate.

 

Once arrived all saw the need for running at speed, yet were soon amongst fields of rice,

Herring Choker at the fore was first to discover that the trail was not very nice.

Sand turned quickly to mud and mere puddles to a flood as the trail quickly went under,

Simon managed on light feet as did Yogi Bra however others started to blunder.

At one particular halt all started with a jolt and stared at Jeremie’s shoe with fright,

For it was frothing and creaming like mad in Monica Lewiski-esque delight.

Hit on Me fell off the pace with water to her waist and all we could see was her cap,

After 45 minutes the pack was quarter way and some were starting to snap.

Luckily the next stretch was dry and the pack started to fly as we headed for the half way,

Briefly halted by an amorous old girl who was trying to disprove Bald Focker gay.

 

The halt was too short and many did retort that the moon was starting to rise,

So a reduced running pack headed off into the gloom to face their imminent demise.

Little Miss Prick managed to hit every stick as she cleared a path through branch and thorn,

But the pack stayed together despite fading light through Milky Discharge and his great horn.

Andrés fought through the gloom and all too soon the marks were difficult to find,

Yet he kept up the pace with Dusty at the front, the blind leading the blind.

Soon it was quite clearly night and the pack had no light and hope began to fade,

STD and Rowena sought a short cut yet soon found the directions offered were a charade.

The pack finally staggered back on a pitch dark track and the circle did promptly form,

“The longest run ever,” boasted Flaccido with pride, as in the distance there blew a great storm.

“Too true,” cried the pack we must pay you back for such diligence we’ll offer some advice,

You clearly must be hot from working so hard so park your arse on this here ice.

P2H3 Run #879 – Short, Hot and Dry

 

Date:  5/10/08

Hares:  Squint Westward and Check Around (walking)

Run Report:  Horny Cow

*Three words that should never be associated with the hash.  Thanks to Horny Cow for a fantastic report, anyone else wishing to join the stable of writers is more than welcome.  You know you want to.  – Hash Trash (Yogi Bra)

A small gathering of hashers showed up at the train station today, with many regulars likely scared away by the mid-afternoon showers or by a bout of post-Pchum Ben laziness. The meager showing piled into the two trucks as they headed towards Takmao, led by walking hare Check Around, and running hare Squint Westward.

After a brief welcoming circle where the hares unenthusiastically explained hash rules for the virgins, the runners were off to find the trail. Runners made their way through the neighborhood, but were frequently stopped by the remarkably generous allotment of holds scattered throughout the trail.  Some concluded that this was a tricky ploy employed by the over-the-hill hares to allow them to run at an unhurried pace.  The runners unexpectedly reached the halfway point after a quick first half, and after a short refueling, were off again, only to meet the walkers still leisurely strolling to the halfway. 

The second half was relatively uneventful, except for an unusual running phenomenon involving FRBs Wannacracker and our resident Olympiad, Hem Bunting. Like a couple of young schoolgirls, they used a t-shirt to tie their arms together so they would not be separated. Flaccido attempted to join the twosome in their merrymaking, but was quickly cast aside, unable to keep up with their lighting pace.  All in all, the trail was well marked and relatively cow-free. The scenic 7 km run was enjoyed by all, including a local stowaway who joined in both the running and in the circle festivities.   

On reaching the end, the runners were sadly disappointed by the noticeable absence of beer.   After 20 minutes of anxious waiting, GM Blah Blah abandoned the flock to wander the neighborhood in search of an alternative source of beer.  The masses, now, without their fearless leader, were like sheep without a shepherd.  In the meantime, the truck holding the precious beer was perched precariously on the edge of a small bridge, threatening to unload its cargo into the rushing river below. Thankfully, the beer (and the walkers in the truck) safely passed over the threatening waters and arrived at the end.

After the masses were supplied with beer, GM Blah Blah convened the circle and invited the two hares into the circle. Three virgins (plus a fourth who disappeared into the mango orchards of Takmao) were initiated.  RA Flaccido Domingo then punished the sinners.  FRBs Ikea, Runs Well and others were punished for shortcutting, while Sophina was called in for scouting the neighborhood for a pet puppy. Catherine thought the bloody scars from her tumble would soften Flaccido’s wrath, but she thought wrong.  Much fashion abuse on this hash:  Horny Cow, Su Ming, Sophina, Yogi Bra and others regulars for lacking proper hash attire, Dusty for a garish tie-dye shirt that looked like a bad acid trip as conceived by Jackson Pollack, and a virgin for bravely donning a Dolly Parton T-shirt. Returnee Pearl Necklace was joined by Horny Cow, celebrating 20 runs, and all French hashers, for a dazzling rendition of Ou Est La Papier. Mr. Tinkle and Tinkle Spinner celebrated their recent engagement with a linked arm toast of beer-in-a-spanking-new-shoe. While Mr. Tinkle quickly finished off his beer, most of Tinkle Spinner’s beer ended up in Mr. Tinkle’s face and hair.

The circle closed and the hashers headed to Sam Doo for the on on on.  Next week’s run will be hared by Flaccido. 

On On!

P2H3 Run #878 Pchum Ben Holiday Madness

Date:  28/9/2008

Hares:  Flaccido Domingo, Laverne (walking)

Run Report:  Flaccido Domingo

 A handful of patriotic hashers who deemed it necessary to remain in town despite the long awaited Pchum Ben holiday gathered at the train station at 2:45. Herring Choker was on hand for the hash stats as the faithful runners waited for veteran hare Flaccido Domingo to lead them to the run. They did not have to wait long for Flaccido, as he arrived on time to lead the way. As soon as he arrived, the faithful boarded the truck and headed toward the East. After traveling for about thirty minutes and crossing the toll gate, they made a right turn to Wat Anchea. The circle was convened by Mr. Tinkle who was the acting GM. The circle welcomed one virgin (Khmer) and two foreign spies from Bangkok and Cebu hash respectively. It was raining.

The run started at about 3:45 with the runners led by Flaccido and the walkers by Laverne. At the same time, something remarkable was about to happen. As an environmentally friendly hash, one of the prolific local snail runners (Kchol) had decided to run with us unnoticed from the start. The run progressed smoothly to the halfway point where the beer truck was already waiting. As the hashers were about to leave the halfway point, the snail arrived to the amazement of all the hashers. The snail wanted a snap with all the hashers but unfortunately hash snap was not available. The second half also progressed smoothly until a point where the runners have to cross a canal which was waist deep. Wannacracker and Runs Well were afraid to cross the canal until the foreign spy from Bangkok went in and waded through easily.

The runners and the walkers arrived at the start simultaneously and circle was called after about fifteen minutes of hash talks. Acting GM Mr. Tinkle brought the hare to the circle followed by the virgin and the foreign spies. The RA took over the circle from the GM and meted a few punishments on sinners. The circle closed and the bar was opened as hashers headed back to Phnom Penh. The on on on was at Huxley’s. As usual, it was great, as the hashers were able to watch the Singapore F1 live on a wide screen as they eat their meal. As Monday was still a holiday, some of the hashers planned to meet at Sharky bar an hour later for dessert. On on to next Sunday’s run which will be brought to you by Check Around. 

On on!

P2H3 Run #877 – CLASSIC PHLEGM STRIKES AGAIN

Date:  21/9/2008

Hares:  Phlegm, Chickpea (walking), Lois (walking)

Run Report:  Mr. Tinkle

 

“Beauty for some provides escape,

Who gain a happiness in eyeing

The gorgeous buttocks of the ape

Or Autumn sunsets exquisitely dying.” – A Huxley

 

An astonishing number of regulars turned out for this week’s scamper over the Cambodian countryside, despite many having soldiered on through the early hours of Sunday morning in order to see off, with all due revelry, His Excellency Rubbed Raw.  At the station, stories of the previous nights excesses are exchanged, hangovers compared, sunglasses donned, and even our super-hero G.M. Blah Blah admits to feeling a little rough around the edges!

 

Prolific hare and veteran hasher Phlegm is guide and leader for the afternoon, and under his instruction, our courageous hashers are soon heading south out of town, through Takmao and on to highway 2, picking up several others along the way.  4pm and here’s our start point – a village just off the main highway. A circle is hastily convened and a few preliminaries gone over for the benefit of the hitherto unsoiled.

 

With the formalities dealt with, our runners make a break for the paddy behind the village.  Less than a minute on the clock and already confusion reigns as the trail refuses to give itself up to the eager pack; the hare intervenes and points to a gap in the bushes, but for some over-excited hounds the wait proves too much – heroically, they dive through the foliage and into the knee deep paddy beyond, destroying all in their path. Could it really be possible that the trail will double back on itself so soon and take us back over the road on which we just arrived?  Yes, yes, of course it could!

 

So, back through the village they trot, and out over the paddy on the opposite side.  The pack now begins to spread and Blitzkrieg and Hit On Me take their chances with a bit of crafty short-cutting.   The briefest of holds by a couple of quarry pits and it’s off again to follow a series of well trodden tracks to the next village.  The trail is well marked but there’s little in the way of checks and again the pack thins.  At the next hold, some of the unblooded can be heard asking if the halfway point has yet been reached – halfway to the halfway, maybe!  One long straight path now takes our tiring runners to the rendezvous with the truck, where copious quantities of Royal D are quaffed.

 

Thus reinforced, the hounds cast about for the scent once again, most supposing that the trail will continue through the village before breaking left to the fields behind.  The hare follows – the supposition confirmed.  But now what’s this?  The trail can’t be found!  Up and down the embankment scurries our hare, darting in and out of gardens, under houses, over a volley-ball court.  Minutes pass. Eventually he overcomes his amnesia and leads the way to a shaded dike, and plenty of chances for a little tumble and splash.  Comes Anally does a spectacular piece of water ballet for the crowd, lest the hash be accused of being too crude and failing to contribute to the arts in Cambodia.

 

At the next and final hold, hashers are presented with a choice: take the high road, thus gaining the respect and admiration of their peers; or opt for the shorter low road and live their lives in eternal shame.  Without a moment’s hesitation, a small gang of backsliders, led by Flaccido Domingo, sprint down the bank and head for home.  The gallant majority, however, lured by the promise of spectacular scenery, exquisite sunsets and apes’ buttocks take off along the causeway for the ultimate leg.  A good mile and a falsey or two down, and here’s the left turn the head hounds have been looking for.  Now comes a lot of water, and pestilential insects attack Flying Plod, Tinkle, and Milky Discharge; Scout Master takes a slip into the drink.  Three more fields and another check, then one by one the strewn runners take up the main road which will lead them to the finish and an eskie full of shiny silver treasure.

 

Dusk had fallen by the time the final runners made it home.  Most were dead beat but with help from the beloved Anchor regained enough strength to enjoy the circle.  Virgins were initiated, spies interrogated, songs sung, down-downs downed.  Amongst the flogged:  Phlegm for forgetting where he placed his own trail, Milky, Plod and Tinkle for insect abuse, and a special guest star, like an episode of fantasy island, Hem Bunting, virgin hasher, fresh from Beijing, for racism and wearing ridiculous spandex pants.       

 

The on on on was held at Gasolina, where those who made the effort were rewarded with fine French cuisine and a few more tins of the good stuff.

 

On on.