User Scribes

TartanTart Moderator

Hash No 653 - Down by the river   compliments of “The Clits”

Location: Somewhere near the “pink Bridge” and park called Taman Sungai in the vicinity of Kuala Teriang.

It was a balmy evening following an afternoon of torrential rain – not good for the hares laying flour spots! We gathered shortly after 5pm in what looked like a car park with an interesting array of vintage cars plus orange cat to one side, and a meeting area peppered with squishy cow pats. The provider of which was standing nearby on a patch of grass quietly manufacturing more.

The turn out was good, visitors and virgins from afar, in fact plenty for the GM to get stuck into. In the opening circle an unsuspecting visitor was found to have new pink shoes from which she drank the first libation. “The Clits”, newbie hares were given some back up by Hand Job (route) and Rock Cock (transportation of gear). After a rambling dissertation by Clit Eastwood with the Bearded Clit looking on anxiously, we were off.

All went well along the river – the runners were off, and soon streaking ahead but not without some serious competition from visiting hashers. Those of us bringing up the rear were in fact able to absorb the surroundings, paddy fields and a couple of small groups of cows with calves which had the potential to provide a hash hazard. Fortunately, they left us to our sweaty pursuits.

The runners on this pastoral route logged up 6 kilometres, walkers 5 all very flat but not without frequent mud traps and lapses in flour spots. Clit Eastwood later assured us this was because the route was straight and therefore needed no marking until the turn. Bearded Clit was clearly mortified by this and did not take the excuse of conserving flour lightly.

After a kilometre or two of river frontage - a quiet kampong with most of the inhabitants probably at the busy Matsirat Ramadan market, which some of us, #Tweety Twat and Black Label went through by default appropriately laying the blame on the hares quest for flour conservation.

After a good hour on the road, the last of the hashers ambled back to base and the much-awaited circle. The visitors were all on form and clearly looking to wet their whistles. The Tartan Tart did a sterling job in dispensing ice water down the back of shirts, while Bearded Clit served up tankards of beer with relish.

Two virgins stepped eagerly forward, before the GM (Small Ball Cock) came to the realisation that there was no scribe. #Tweety Twat said “Oh” (apparently Chinese for yes) and the deed was done. Newbie #Tweety Twat was getting advice from MucArse when the GM brought her to book for nattering.  TT was sent to the chilly chair which she sunk into happily with MucArse mumbling some poor excuse about explaining the ropes.

Censure in the circle continued. The visitors from Petaling proved a jolly bunch and well up for any punishment on offer. Jaime came under the whip for running too fast and emasculating the male runners by pipping Rock Cock at the post. Rock Cock didn’t have a leg to stand on and was called to boot for not keeping his end up on behalf of the male species. In short there were no winners!

Two body pumped visitors were hauled over the coals for smoking within the inner sanctum with one incurring further punishment for indecent exposure. They clearly didn’t mind.

Further offences by visitors included cadging a bike ride back to base, and watering a plant en-route; indeed a heinous offence worthy of punishment .

But then it was the turn of Small Ball Cock to come under fire – no Hash rags! The ceremonial down, down was served. Down, it went but not fast enough to avoid the jug of ice delivered by Tartan Tart now in fine form. Somehow Johnny Walker managed to organise an offence and was soon happily enjoying the punishment – sadist !

In fact the more violations there were, the jollier it became, until time was called and the throng adjourned to the Shark Cage for a delicious dinner with French Fries to die for.

Thanks to the co-ordinators Bearded Clit and Clit Eastwood.


On On 


#Tweety Twat.


TartanTart Moderator

IRISH HASH RUN 652


GM – Johnny Walker

Hare – Small Ball Cock assisted by Hand Job.

Everyone arrived to an awning billowing in the breeze and a few camping chairs scattered under the trees. Alas the awning that took close on an hour to erect offered little if no shade and was not in the right area as the circle was formed on the opposite side of the road.  Hand Job decided it would be the last time he spent all his energy on putting up useless awnings unless he upgraded to a pop up one.  A group photo was taken by Bugger Mee with all the complying Hashers with their green outfits placed in the front. The shoes were inspected and no one was guilty of having new shoes but it was noted that someone’s still looked liked they had a very good warranty.

Small Ball Cock gave a very confusing description of the Hash route, which he tried to justify by saying he was trying to stick to the Irish theme.  After asking for clarity everyone just ended up more confused and decided to just set off and hope for the best. Well, after no more than 200m everyone had gone off in the wrong direction and Small Ball Cock was frantically calling everyone back. The walkers returned but unfortunately after bellowing after the runners (causing all the locals to rush out to see what all the commotion was about) they were long gone off along the wrong track. This ended up with them doing an extra loop before eventually joining the correct path. The Hare blamed the locals for trashing his arrow or the chickens must have eaten it.  The route was pleasant and thankfully a bit shorter than usual as the heat was sweltering up from the ground. The markings improved so much so that after the night’s rain and the next day’s sun I’m sure there are a few arrowed shaped loaves of bread to be found on the Island.

The circle was formed on top of a little hill so everyone could gaze at the sunset instead of being focused on the GM hoping not to get called for any future Hash duties. Tartan Tart was quick to offer to take the job of Executioner so that she could cool off by dousing herself with a big jug of ice water. A Virgin Hasher, Tarryn, born in South Africa and now a new Aussie, was welcomed to our Hash. The Returners were all very confused as to where they had been and stood mumbling and scratching their heads in true Irish Form before getting doused by the Executioner.

The green clothing which was a requirement for the Irish Hash was inspected and a few explanations were needed from some of the more imaginative Hashers.  Hand Job was awarded the title of the sexiest Hasher as he stood half naked with a green O’Heineken Box on his head as his green clothing contribution.  Our GM looked quite cute himself with a necklace of green balls as well as Sodomiser with his little green panties. MucArse had a lot of explaining to do regarding her green waders worn with Flip-flops. The GM was quite disappointed that he couldn’t find anyone with a green bra to inspect so turned his attention to naming and Christening two new Hashers; Geologist Piet and his wife Tweet. After some good dirty nominations, once again with Chilly Willy topping the list with his vulgar suggestions, #Tweety Twat and Rock Cock were the decided new names.

As it was now dark there was only time for one or two Irish jokes so those who had forgotten to bring one got off without any water dousing from the very enthusiastic Executioner. King Penguin closed the evening with a jolly Irish song and everyone headed off to Coco’s for some Irish stew or Fish. 

BC


TartanTart Moderator

First a quick comment on Run 651 - Hares Tartan Tart and McArse


Return of the Scots - CLAN McTartArse. 

In short - brilliantly organised, executed and marked- a job as Prime Minister of Uk to sort Brexit - awaits.


Now on to a brief history of our favourite Friday time-waster......


History of the Hash House Harriers


Hashing originated in December 1938 in Selayang Quarry, Selangor, then in the federated Malay States (now Malaysia), when a group of British colonial officers and expatriates began meeting on Monday evenings to run, in a fashion patterned after the traditional British paper chase or "hare and hounds", to rid themselves of the excesses of the previous weekend. The original members included Albert Stephen (A.S.) Ignatius "G" Gispert, Cecil Lee, Frederick "Horse" Thomson, Ronald "Torch" Bennett, Eric Galvin, H.M. Doig, and John Woodrow. A. S. Gispert suggested the name "Hash House Harriers" after the Selangor Club Annex, where several of the original hashers lived and dined, known as the "Hash House".

Hashing died out during World War II shortly after the Invasion of Malaya, but was restarted in 1946 after the war by several of the original group, minus A. S. Gispert, who was killed on 11 February 1942 in the Japanese invasion of Singapore, an event commemorated by many chapters by an annual Gispert Memorial Run.

After World War II, in an attempt to reorganize in the city of Kuala Lumpur, they were informed by the Registrar of Societies that as a "group," they would require a constitution. Apart from the excitement of chasing the hare and finding the trail, harriers reaching the end of the trail would partake of beer, ginger beer and cigarettes.

The objectives of the Hash House Harriers as recorded on the club registration card dated 1950:

/>re">

To promote physical fitness among our members

/>re">

To get rid of weekend hangovers

/>re">

To acquire a good thirst and to satisfy it in beer

/>re">

To persuade the older members that they are not as old as they feel

In 1962, Ian Cumming founded the second chapter in Singapore. The idea spread through the Far East and the South Pacific, Europe, and North America, expanding rapidly during the mid-1970s. Cumming was widely credited with bringing hashing to the United States; he lived outside of New York City, where he continued to hash until his death on August 21, 2015.

At present, there are almost two thousand chapters in all parts of the world, with members distributing newsletters, directories, and magazines and organizing regional and world hashing events. As of 2003, there are even two organized chapters operating in Antarctica.

SocialisingEdit

The end of a trail is an opportunity to socialise, have a drink and observe any traditions of the individual chapter.  When the hash officially ends, many members may continue socialising at an "on-after", "on-down", "on-on-on", "apres", or "hash bash", an event held at a nearby house, pub, or restaurant.

CirclesEdit

Most hash events end with a group gathering known as the "circle", or less commonly as "religion". Led by chapter leadership, the circle provides a time to socialise, sing drinking songs recognize individuals, formally name members, or inform the group of pertinent news or upcoming events. Circles may be led by the chapter grandmaster, the group's religious advisor, or by a committee. Impromptu input is welcome and solicited.

Down-downsEdit

A "down-down" is a means of punishing, rewarding, or merely recognizing an individual for any action or behaviour according to the customs or whims of the group. Generally, the individual in question is asked to consume without pause the contents of his or her drinking vessel or risk pouring the remaining contents on his or her head. Individuals may be recognized for outstanding service, or for their status as a visitor or newcomer. Down-downs also serve as punishment for misdemeanours real, imagined, or blatantly made up. Such transgressions may include: failing to stop at the beer check, pointing with a finger, or the use of real names. Commonly, hashers who wear new shoes to an event can be required to drink from that shoe.

Many chapters include an ice seat or throne as part of the down-down ceremony. Those who are to consume a down-down sit on a large block of ice while they await the completion of the down-down song. If the offence that resulted in the down-down is particularly egregious, the hasher may be subjected to a long song with many verses.

Hash namesEdit

In most chapters, the use of real names during an event is discouraged. Members are typically given a "hash name," usually in deference to a particularly notorious escapade, a personality trait, or their physical appearance. In some chapters the name must be earned – that is, hashers are not named until they've done something outstanding, unusual, or stupid enough to warrant a name. In other chapters the process is more mechanical and hashers are named after completing a certain number of events (5–10 being the most common).

Some chapters focus on "family-friendly" names (for example: Lost My Way); others focus on names filled with innuendo (for example: Purple Vein); and some go out of their way to make the name as bawdy, offensive, or politically incorrect as possible.

Those hashers who have not been named are generally referred to as "Just (Name)", "No Name (Name)" (e.g., "No Name John") or simply Virgin.

Hashers are not permitted to give themselves nicknames due to the obvious conflict of interest. Hashers who do so are often renamed by the chapter at the earliest opportunity and with a more offensive name. Similarly, hashers who do get named and don't like their name may end up being renamed by their chapter, the members of whom may strive to give the complaining hasher an even more offensive or inappropriate name.

New hashers verbally in pursuit of an obviously offensive or inappropriate name may intentionally be given a weaker name, such as "Freckles".


King Penguin


TartanTart Moderator

Hash Trash run no. 650.       29 March 2019 


Hares King Penguin and Arse


Note the date…..29 March 2019, and for the benefit of anyone who may have either been living in another dimension, or perhaps in an alcoholic haze for the previous two years it was B for Brexit Day.

So, in commemoration of the positiveness, assertiveness and Churchill like leadership skills demonstrated by the UK Parliament the GM attempted to replicate these fine qualities into the hash proceedings. Big mistake! Chaos followed; we wonder who could have set such an example?


OK, the venue. Jalan Te fuk Yu, three km out of Padang Lalang. Easy to find, easy to park and altogether a lovely spot with a view of the ocean.

Back to the “B” word; no getting away from it even here 11000km S. E. of little England. The GM, fired up to previously unforeseen levels of angst and wearing his “P” hat. (“P” for politics or what is that other word?) called us not into a circle but into a bunch with Brit brexiteers to the left and non Brit leavers (and British traitors) to the right. The one Brit traitor hails from north of Hadrians Wall so she did not surprise us in wanting to see Mother Theresa’s head on a spike. All is forgiven Tartan Tart, you fell right into the trap of the later wet T shirt and “What colour are her knickers” antics. Despite the GM’s exhortations to engage in civil war there was less enthusiasm for fighting than for getting stuck into the beer drinking later.

There being no new shoes or virgins the Hares gave their very precise pre-brief. So precise that the less than average attention span of the 20 hashers prompted many requests for it to be repeated. Fortunately the two dogs present got it right the first time and were raring to go.


The run took us first onto the beach, and for the fit and the brave a dash through calf deep water in their footware. For the unwashed and the wimps some scrambling over rocks kept their feet dry and dirty. After 1km on the beach the trail diverted inland where a well marked division for runners and walkers separated the old and fit from the older and lazy. The trail passed by neat clean kampungs, rubber smallholdings and jungle. Both groups converged again just before the final run in. Clearly set by professionals.


Back at the site the GM in cruel and inhumane punishment mode put the chilly chairs and the dreaded arm cuffs to immediate use. None escaped execution and being force fed multiple down downs. One militant feminist, Old Bailey, was repeatedly punished for accusing GM of discriminatory behaviour and Harvey Weinstein treatment of vulnerable women. It was only later when it was realised that this was a deliberate guise for her to get more free beer that she was excused further punishment.

A heinous crime was committed by the pooch Hash Cash in shamelessly pooing on the path. Not just a single discreet dollop but a healthy batch of rich juicy ones. Oh that yours truly could squeeze them out so effortlessly. Karsanogenic as Hash Cash’s feeder, friend, mentor and father figure was made to drink a down down and execute himself simultaneously. No problem for this versatile old hand. If this heinous crime should ever be repeated the hash imitation turd necklace will be substituted for a real one!

And so the talented performance continued with the grand finale being the singing of mutinous Brexit songs under the well conducted prompting of our choirmaster KP.


The meal of very British Fish-n-Chips at Scarborough’s was thoroughly enjoyed by all, even by our European friends.


Another excellent occasion….well done Hares.


Floppy 


TartanTart Moderator

Flight 649 Flight report.


Flight Officers- Prick Van Dyke.

                        Coming From Behind.


Captain.          Golden Shower


Executioner-  not obvious on most flights; Teddy.


It was a day for flying, a fairly warm day, and began with a safety briefing by our new and novice captain (just to fill us all with confidence, and double the consumption of anchor).

Prick (for short) but actually was quite long, demonstrated the use of our safety equipment, as if we did not know, and said that due to the hot weather we may experience turbulence, so must wear our belts at all times during the flight. A totally unnecessary precaution.


Golden shower, our captain, then inspected our footwear, amongst other things, and declared us fit (unusual term for Hashers) for take off.

Whilst taxiing Prick described the route. He explained that the business class group, would fly in one direction, whilst the economy class and lazy group would – much to our relief- be flying, albeit, eating dust-  in the same direction.  The thought of the aircraft splitting after take off and going  two different ways was more than just a worry.


Then after much and mostly unnecessary conversation away we flew. Chilly Willy was still in the car changing his underwear. The Business class group, as usual made a quicker and more comfortable getaway and were well pampered by the fight crew.( say no more)

The vast majority of passengers, in cattle class, were left eating their dust.


Feeling fit, healthy, and fresh the business class group quickly landed, and were escorted to the lounge for free beer, whilst us walkers continued to drink water and search for any safety exits or long ropes.


Eventually, dusty and dry, we all made it to our destination, a sand pit in the middle of a desert, a bit like many destinations, and prepared for disembarkation.


The Captain, who was, like most of the group, a bit old. and forgetful of people’s names, required that  he  would blow his (smaller than most) whistle, they would then step forward, call out their names, and then answer  whatever ridiculous questions had come into his atrophied mind, but mostly it was of an intimate nature.


A flight black box was required, and Tartan Tart bravely volunteered yours truly for the job.


An executioner was also pressed into the role and another novice called Teddy, an Air France employee (take a chance with Air France)  valiantly stepped up for the role.


The returners, or frequent flyers, were then called in for a dousing, which was well administered too despite the need to explain the rules in some strange language which could best be described as a diseased larynx.

This was followed by a solemn renaming ceremony, and PMBC who being a lady refused to mention the full name because it was long and rude, was renamed with the full reverence we all expected, as Bearded Clit.  A more charming name.


Luckily for the visitors, they had all remained in the duty free lounge and were too alcoholically overcome to take part.


Another old Captain was then flown in and proudly showed us all his joystick, for which he made the excuse it was used for divining. Clearly by its state it had done a bit too much divining and luckily did not fall to pieces during the elaborate process. Eventually for his efforts he became flight latrine.


A very rare sighting amongst this rabble of passengers, a virgin (Yuin) was spotted, and despite having previously attending a bash, the overall opinion was bash it, flash it , or hash it, she was liable for a quick one, so  being a novice she got it.


We then all flew off to the departure lounge, a destination owned by a famous antipodean hostess who served us a delicious meal rounded off with some brownies.

 

MIC

17.03. 19

TartanTart Moderator

Hash Trash run no 648   01 March 2019 


Hares Bugger Mee and Sodomiser


A good turn out of 23 aspiring champion athletes and champion drinkers assembled at a new and interesting venue behind the new and impressive Thean How Chinese Temple in Kuah. Easy to find, easy to park, plenty of space; so far ticks all the boxes. But maybe a trick, as those who took the long route certainly earned their drinks, more later.


Circle formed on time. No new shoes. The hares pre-run brief was just that, brief. “Go up the hill over there, 6k’s, a shortened route for the walkers, go”


And so it started. This location just had to be hilly. The trail was very well marked and some  spectacular new views over Kuah soon appeared. After about 1k Sodomiser appeared at a turning point and helpfully offered the old, the lame and the lazy an easy route back. The aspiring athletes of course took the long route challenge and as a result arrived back at the site much later and much exhausted. We cissies in contrast had a pleasant stroll back despite the attention of some loud and alarmingly over curious dogs and were soon able to enjoy our cold tigers in peace while appreciating the calm serenity of the temple view.

Eventually the hard men and harder women of the hash staggered back with Karsanogenic limping bravely in. Well done that man!


After suitable refreshments the circle formed again and was rigidly kept in order by Arse who generously ensured that no one miss out on the cold water treatment by hosting the Hash Oscars with numerous awards. She was ably assisted by the very cruel and enthusiastic executioner Maid In China. Awards were given for best director, best hash music, best picture, best hash tart, and group awards for running about, leading the pack, running at speed and front running bastards. Such hidden talents within our motley crew. Also those deemed to be inappropriately dressed by the wearing of non hash approved hats were made to pay the penalty.


Our esteemed choirmaster and song and dance director King Penguin introduced another cultural masterpiece to the hash repertoire. Still in connection with swinging low, but this time with the crown jewels or balls to the non native English speakers. His descriptive dance contortions showed some of the amazing things that can be done with these anatomical adornments. Now we know how he spends his time keeping fit!


Finally the hares directed us to a new venue restaurant in Nagoya, the Seven Nine Eight Restaurant. The ambience was just right for the weary hashers and the food was a delicious Eastern / Western fusion which all thoroughly enjoyed. Our compliments to the chef.  Also to the hares for organising a great walk / run and a great time.


Floppy


TartanTart Moderator

Run 647.


Firstly, all Hashers would like to send condolences to Bugger Me, we were thinking of you and missed you both.


So == We had a quickly organised / cobbled together Mash Hash. Well done all involved!


Everyone did very well to find the meeting point at Karsanogenic’s hillside hide away, congratulations. 

Our six visitors were the first to arrive, Thomas and Teddy (sounds like a  50’s comedy duo) and Francoise (Thomas’s Mum),  from France, and Nein Knickers and Oliver Clothes Off, from Germany. 

Rotating GM was Karsanogenic, in a spin as usual, forgetting the New Shoe check for the second consecutive time. Stand in Hares / Leaders were King Penguin, nobly stepping up as usual, to lead the charge for the runners, and Tartan Tart volunteered a rest from running, to guide the walkers, scout-like, through the Jungle. 

Hurrah---- The Walkers ambled home first! (After early challenging inclines). Well done Hares. The much younger French chaps led the way in for the runners.

(Obviously after good Pace Making in the Paddies from KP and PvD, not to mention Coming from Behind - who did.)


Golden Shower did a sterling job as Executioner, liberally dousing himself, and all those summoned into the circle. The best of all dousings was on Floppy Rod who returned to us after a long absence, but still unable to  cut a long story short!!!! 


Thomas was christened, in the presence of his mother – Francoise knows a little more of her son than she perhaps needed to! He was almost called ‘Menage a Trois’ but no sufficiently detailed description was provided. Thomas was saved by un petit oiseau that shat on his shoulder during the proceedings --- and thus—He became known as “Little Shit”.


Big Alf  from Norway was next up for naming and there was no shortage of possibilities, but after revelation that he spent a lifetime in the Oil and Gas business in a “hands on” capacity, he was duly named “Oily Dick”. No satisfactory explanation of the “Dick” bit was given, but nevertheless it received rapturous endorsement.


Music Meister, bravely supported by Teddy (who shall be named at his next visit), sang, with no due respect, the Marseillaise, toilet paper version, followed by Hob Nob and KP’s rendition of our very own Hash Hymn.


And off we jolly well went, to Thien Seng, who did us proud if a little  ‘tardy’ due to their short notice explosion in  customer numbers!!


On On


MucArse (Ably assisted by Karsanogenic!!)


TartanTart Moderator
(Worum scho wieder mir?) - no translation in google ,,Swiss German'' 


OK Hash 646 started 1.6KM past the Gunung Raya turn off, near the far side of the CUCU CUCU RESORT.


The GM was Johnnie Walker - the organisers MucArse & Karsanogenic. Great run/walk in beautiful countryside with a cooling drink at half time 


Guest Amanda from Seattle.


Baptisms: Janet (from South Africa originally from GB as her husband mentioned) is now known as Phil Ma Bearded Clit. Phil her husband (pure South African) - Clit Eastwood, and Che Li (from Malaysia) - Chilly Willy.


All those who participated know how funny and beautiful it was. All those who did not participate missed something (Pach gha) incl.

,,s'Nachtasse'' im Scarborough.


Any Cock Will Do (Scheissname!)





TartanTart Moderator

Hash run 645 started from Temoyong on a side street of  costal road Bukit Malut. Organiser were Adrian de Turd and Bigapist. 18 member of the club and one not yet named (BECKY) appeared to start. All except the organisers, Adrian de Turd and Bigapist, started the run (some of them run, others walked at a brisk pace and the rest strolling through the beautiful countryside. 4 of them missed a turnoff on the main road and took the short cut along this main road. Nobody took notice of these offenders and therefore they could not be punished   (among others, the scribe  ). I am already afraid of  a terrible punishment on the occasion of the next run 646 . Thanks to the shortcutting bastards, everybody arrived on time.

Form a circle – but this command  had to be repeated for us older people at least three times until the circle was closed. Maid in China was named as an executioner, which he accepted with a sardonic grin! New shoes – no success (but, Any Cock Will Do“ had sandals instead of sneakers. But it is very difficult to drink beer out of sandals). She was left unpunished  Visitors and virgins we had this time none. But a ‘’baptism“ was due! BECKY got a new name and majority voted for ‘’FUZZY KNICKERS“  

Some returners had to be showered with ice cold water and because Any Cock Will Do emptied her glass half before she was allowed to drink, Tartantart helped the executer and poured a whole bucket of water from behind over her back. Hash heros on this day none, as well as no hash turd.

After these ceremonies King Penguin started the traditional song with the many contortions, and he also mentioned that on the 18th of January 1778 Captain James Cook discovered Hawaii and Robert Falcon Scott reached the South Pole 1911 only to find that Amundsen had preceded them by over a month (after an undeclared race to the south pole).

The evening was concluded in a cozy round with good food in the Cactus Restaurant, which was occupied to the last place. Thank you the organisers for a good hash evening.

Cock-a-doodle-don‘t


TartanTart Moderator

The Kuah Hill Hikers division of the Langkawi Beach Hash offered an exemplary exhibition of their skill for Run 644 . The trail was up, up, up then down around the pond and up, up, up ending on a rather precipitous down. Many tried, Cod Piss failed and only two hashers succumbed to gravity. Luckily, there are no injuries and MucArse could go straight to swallowing beers without any ministrations. Luckily MucArse returned after Black Label as those who hustled through the hills in haste found themselves locked out of the liquid stores. Much moaning and cries of desperation were heard from afar.


Speaking of swallowing beers, a few were taken in punishment meted out by Acting Grand Master Johnny Walker. First, of course, the hares were awarded a free beer after many compliments about their run. All the while Executioner Karsanogenic lurked on the fringes while those who feared being called out for crimes quivered and shivered awaiting cold beer and ice water. There were no virgins, no visitors but returners Maid in China, Bugger Mee and Sodomiser were welcomed back.


 Hash Snitch Bitch then revealed herself in all her Tartan glory. First and most heinous of her charges was against Black Label for running off with the store keys leaving returning hashers unable to slake their thirst. Next appeared Sauerkraut who, after complaining about the failure to hand out hooters, promptly left without one. Finally, MucArse was done for visiting the hairdresser the morning of the Hash (who wouldn’t want to look their best for such an esteemed gathering?).


Johnny Walker then asked for nominations for Hash Hero. After some debate Maid in China and Cod Piss shared joint honours. What for you ask? Made in China for finishing a challenging run and Cod Piss for breathing.


Another beer was awarded for an imitation Coming From Behind and Johnny Walker and Black Label were recognised for laying two hash trails close together.


With the sun drawing close to the edge of the Kuah Hills a final vote was taken for the Hash Turd award. Adrian the Turd was the popular choice for his failure to appear at the run bearing the Turd and also for failing to submit the Hash Flash photos from the Xmas run. In his absence, Adrian the Turd lookalike, Johnny Walker, took the hit.


Afterward, the crowd slid into Kuah to the Malaysia Hotel for a buffet dinner enjoyed by some but not all. MucArse in particular was left with a bad taste in her mouth when her phone was discovered to have been snitched on site. The unhelpful management was noted for future reference.


On On


Arse


Pages: 1 2 3 4 »