HASH FLASH

ANNOUNCEMENTS:

1. Bring your bathing suit to hash this Sunday! says Little Boy.

Little Boy and Morten are hares for this Sunday’s hash, and for Saturday’s GASH (Girl’s Association Saturday Hash) so anyone GASHing Saturday should do the same.

2. Let’s Go to Burma!

Some of us are going to Burma for Inter Mekong Hash 2009.  Join us!  In case you didn’t get enough of us on Sundays we can now all be drunk and disorderly together in a country with much stiffer penalties and a prison system that makes Tuol Sleng look like EuroDisney.  Don’t you want to come?!  Contact one of us or leave your email on the comments section for more info.  Or just go to their website and leave us out of it:  http://www.yangonhashhouseharriers.com/?page_id=7

3. Upcoming Events

Exciting things on the horizon including: Some kind of brewery run, some sort of outstation run in Kampong Chhang organized by Runswell, some kind of charity run thing-y in Pursat, The Hash Ball (duck and protect your face), and The Angkor Wat Half-Marathon.  Stay tuned for details, hopefully provided by someone who actually knows what’s going on.

On On Baby!

love, Yogi Bra

P2H3 Run #932 – Dry Feet

Date: 20/9/2009

Hares:  Phlegm (running), Chickpea & Baby Louise (walking)

Run Report:  Blah Blah

As the pack set forth the hare did declare that all feet shall remain drieth for the length of yonder run.  “The hare has gone softeth,” the pack did loudly declare.  Yet in the secret part of their hearts, wherein lies wonton, covetous longings for their neighbour’s attractive spouse, they were glad. [Hops 13:05]

It would appear that the previous week’s run/swim had a left an indelible mark on the hares as Phlegm, ChickPea & Baby Louise sought far and wide for a run that would keep the feet free of the hydrogen-oxygen combination that all hashers both love and fear (the former on a run, the latter as a drink).  Hence the Pchum Ben reduced pack trundled off to somewhere near the Kandal/Takeo/Kampong Speu border for a saunter amongst the rather pleasant rice paddies and irrigation channels.

Enough of the run.  It was a run.  If you were there, you know it.  If you weren’t I don’t have sufficient space to be eloquent and you should have been there.  Observations though, ah, they are another matter entirely.

OBSERVATION #1:  Phlegm has athlete’s foot.  This can be the only reason Phlegm worked so hard (including looping back upon himself) to avoid water.  He was afraid the tinea fungi would get into the water and affect the entire population of the region and this outbreak would result in an international WHO mission that would trace the source back to him.

OBSERVATION #2:  Little Boy is Usain Bolt.  I know he doesn’t look Jamaican however it is all a front.  Little Boy’s decision to forgo the opportunity to join the walkers at the halfway and to remain with the runners for a fast paced 9km run has exposed him for who he really is.  What Madame Ovaries will make of this discovery remains unknown at the time of writing though unofficial sources report she is rather pleased.

OBSERVATION #3:  Runs Well is sneaking beer from the vats at work.  What else to make of the Hash Beer’s decision to short cut the way home?  We thoroughly commend Runs Well for his actions (beer theft that is) and urge all hashers to take a similar approach to their own employment; especially if it involves beer.

OBSERVATION #4:  Abuser harbours a secret desire to star on COPS.  Determined to get lost and instigate a province wide, fully televised woman hunt (tapes of which would be sent to AXN), Abuser took a detour and covered her tracks to prevent pursuit.  Unfortunately her sense of direction was so bad that instead of getting lost she accidentally found the truck again.

OBSERVATION #5:   Cat Walk Boy is the inspiration for Aerobics Oz Style.  We were surprised as well I can assure you.  A real revelation from the circle, that was.  The question is which one did he inspire?  Footloose assures me it is all of them……at once.

OBSERVATION #6:  Herring Choker is fluent in Khmer.  He quite clearly must be given the way he was asking the locals for directions whilst FRB.

OBSERVATION #7:   Baby Louise Lambiotte can run.  She may not be able to walk or talk but running and spraying cans of paint appear no problem as this erstwhile hasher was named hare.  A good start and one that raises some questions as to why other hashers which share similar characteristics (crying when upset, demanding to fed whenever feeling hungry, enjoying a good cuddle whilst belching) have failed to set runs in recent times.  You know who you are.

On On

Blah Blah

P2H3 Run #930 – Golden Showers

Date:  6/9/2009

Hares:  Andre, Wannacracker

Run Report:  Yogi Bra

What is it about the hash that draws people from their warm, comfy beds or off their barstools to end whatever comfort or enjoyment they were partaking in and submit themselves to rain, traffic, strenuous physical challenges, complaints galore, ridicule, debasement and beer, in that order?  Is it the sight of Blitzkrieg in his crotch-skimming shorts? Perhaps with P’chum Ben approaching people feel a need to repent for their sins.  Or maybe the full moon.  Whatever the draw, neither darkening skies nor the sight of a motley bunch of strangers who don’t quite look the running type was enough to deter the crowd who appeared, and actually stayed.  The siren song of the hash was too much for even Blah Blah and Yap Yap, who couldn’t attend the run but raced back from Sihanoukville just in the nick of time to stand around a garbage-strewn abandoned rail station and announce their intention to leave again shortly.

After some thoroughly incorrect directions from herr Andre, the bright ones scrambled into the private vehicles of the elite, and the rest mooed and jostled their way onto a truck that looked like it could break apart if it hit a pebble too fast.  And sure enough, the rains came and soon the truck was a wet, sloshing pit of despair.  Body condoms were whipped out by the more fortunate, while the rest of us batted our eyelashes and cozied up to those with the biggest condoms.

Arriving at Phnom Brasat, the cars had actually gone where the hasenpfeffer Andre told them, while the truck was someplace else entirely.  Eventually we were all reunited, and Andre undertook a thorough, detailed explanation for the wirgins, of just what kind of folly they had gotten themselves into.  The cooler skies had hashers running faster and longer than usual, and the crowded FRB field included Henrik, Runs Well, Herring Choker, Germinator, Ferdinand, Mr. Tinkle, Scoutmaster and Leaking Duck all taking an early lead.  Several of us were waylaid by an early Phlegm-cut, but made it back on track.  Phlegm, however, was not seen again until the half-way.  Not content with a mere “run” though that’s the purported raison d’etre of the hash, we soon were bushwhacking our way up the “mountain”, alternately cursing and screaming as we were set upon by snakes, pricks, red ants, tangled branches, mud slides and steep rocks.  And we paid $5 for the privilege!

What goes up must come down, and after the half-way it was a more or less straight shot back down the mountain, less bush but more rocks, and then a left hook to bring us back to… nothing.  The truck needed only to drive down a solid concrete road and turn left for 1 kilometer, but somehow this was way too much and we all sat around eating strange turnips from roadside stands, fondly reminiscing over the taste of beer.  Eventually the truck, packed with cold beer turned up the same time as more rain, though some hot grog would’ve been more velkommed.

HE GM Scoutmaster is greatly exceeding the incredibly low expectations we all had for each other at the beginning of this new administration.  Blocks of ice were called forth and asses were lowered to them for a variety of sins.  Runs Well, Mr. Tinkle, Flaccido and Andre all took turns chilling their netherlands for general incompetence.  With our elected RA having defected, Flaccido was called in to do the honors.  A foreign spy who was a US intelligence officer in the army somehow got away with merely drinking his potty.  Calls from Little Boy and Yogi Bra to water-board him, or beer-board him, went unheeded.

There hadn’t been a naming in a while, so Scoutmaster superseded the power of the RA, the Naming Czar, and the circle and called forth Andre, Henrik, Ferdinand and Thida and brought them to their knees.  Thida was first, and given her year of birth was the same as that famous blond, plastic thing, was given the name Pamela.  I mean Barbie Doll.  How and why Scoutmaster knew Barbie’s origins was a question no one wanted to answer.  Maybe next week he’ll tell us when the blow-up doll was invented.  Next up was Henrik, whose tank-like crashing and passing other hashers on the narrow trails earned him the name Little Willie, after the famous German tank.  The excellent name of Vulvo was somehow disregarded despite his Swedishness, but perhaps we can re-name him during a coup.  Andre almost got the name Didn’t Come for his failure to turn up at the GASH (where the boys get together during their time of the month for a coffee-klatch and to complain about their bodies and women).  However, his Germanness ultimately earned him the name Westal Wirgin.  That left only Ferdinand.  Due to his being Dutch and working in flood management, it was only natural that he be named Finger in the Dyke.  Thankfully the incredibly lame name of “Dutchie” was skipped, though the other suggestion for “Big Foot” would’ve been spot on.

The on on on at Scoutmaster’s wife’s place (does this place have a name?) was excellent and affordable, but things took a turn for the drunk and disorderly when several hashers stumbled across the street to torture the karaoke attendants at Champs Elysee.  Sweet revenge for all those 5am wedding monk chant-alongs.

On On to Eurovision!

P2H3 Run #927 – Annual General Erections

Date: 16/08/2009

Hares: Milky Discharge, Horny Cow, Hit On Me (walk)

“ Run” Report: Yogi Bra

Iran, Afghanistan, even the 2008 US elections were no match for the P2H3 General Erections in terms of sheer anticipation and breath-taking upsets. Perennial dark horse candidate Paddington Bra could’ve pulled a Ralph Nader, dividing the hash and wooing the undecideds, but she sacrificed glory and fame for the greater good of unity.

Before we announce the winners, there is the matter of the run. Milky Discharge and Horny Cow, in their swan song to the hash, devised a run that was sure to piss off everyone but the most hard core triathletes. That they themselves were no triathletes or even biathletes (though plenty fit) was no matter because they had performance-enhancing help: a motorcycle. Setting a trail on moto is no problem – for the hares. If you happen to be an unlucky runner, things are not quite as rosy. That’s why the end of the run saw Germinator and the Toxic Avenger with big, sweaty grins on their faces, and everyone else quite miserable. I can only report on the end of the run since I showed up several hours late, though right in time for the BBQ portion of the evening.

The only insight I can give to the mindset of the hares was something Milky said a few weeks ago, that he wanted to make a trail that resembled a giant middle finger. And that he did. So it was up one side of the river and back down the other, though when related to me by runners they added many curses to that description.

After much whinging and sweating, sausages in hand, the hash gathered on the banks of some little river near the killing fields and outgoing GM Blah Blah kicked off the circle.

The new Hash Mismanagement Committee members are:

Grand Master: Scoutmaster – a man whose voice I had never heard before that day, but we suspect greatness is lurking deep within. How deep is the question. His first act of GM-dom was to make us all get on our knees and pray. I like it, a good start, hashers have grown way too weak and soft lately. Perhaps caning is not too far off.

Religious Advisor: Hold ’em – like a Cambodian court case, Hold ’em was erected in absentia and expressed profound dismay upon learning of his new role. But he’s been performing this deep-South, bible-thumping preacher act for some time, and he didn’t show up – both recipes for a swift election. Clearly all his years in the US, living in the city of sin, or the city desperately trying to cling to its reputation of sin, gave him a healthy appreciation of the ins and outs of bad behaviour and the importance and futility of confession. Amen, brother.

Hare Raiser: Herring Choker – good choice, people jump when he yells, or even just when he sneezes. Nothing like the Vikings to instill fear in the masses. Hashers will be too scared to say no when he asks them to ‘volunteer’ to set a trail.

Hash Stats: Maynot – he shows up. Overdedication to the hash is a punishable offense.

Hash Cash: Little Boy – he did it once before.

Hash Beer: Runs Well – the most important job on the hash. Despite holding this title already Runs Well gallantly volunteered for this thankless job. Thank you.

Choir Master: STD – Can you carry a tune? Do you have the vaguest sense of melody or the ability to memorize even a single lyric? If you answered ‘no’, this is the job for you.

Hash Haberdashery: Mrs. Tinkle – Mr. Tinkle’s better half has impeccable fashion sense, great taste (in clothing) and is quite handy with a sewing machine. She will make a nice addition to the group.

Hash Trash: Wet Shag – who I predict will never, ever turn up at hash again. Ever. Anyone want to put some money on this? Little Boy – how much can you cover me for?

Webmaster: Henrik – another Viking, and the only man who runs with a full desktop consul and flat screen monitor strapped to his waist, we figured it was a natural choice.

Hash Flash: Shoots Blanks – are we changing his name because his wife is pregnant? Guess not. But he has produced some lovely photos, and has picked up Blitzkrieg’s uncanny ability to pop out of the bushes with a camera right in front of you, even though you’re sure you ran past him a minute ago.

Hash Bash: Cuntsultant, Check Around – Cuntsultant eagerly signed up for this honor, and Check Around said no to everything else, thus the match made in heaven. STD, who swears he is moving and will be nowhere near Phnom Penh during any bashes nevertheless insisted on retaining the right to criticize – er, consult on the proceedings. Godspeed.

Asst. GM, later changed to Grand Mattress: Yogi Bra – smarter than your average bra.

And there you have it, democracy at its finest. Will dissenters be welcomed or locked up and sued? Will Scoutmaster move the official hash capitol from BKK to Takhmao? Will Paddington Bra be placed under house arrest amid fears of a coup? Stay tuned for reports on the reign of terror that this new committee will shower upon the hash.

On On!