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TartanTart Moderator

Hare – King Penguin assisted by Hash Dog The Dog's Bollocks.

After boasting how lucky we have always been with the dry weather on the Hashes we obviously tempted fate. We arrived at the venue in Tanjung Rhu and gathered in a small group standing in the drizzling rain.  Where was Hand Job with his awning? Typical when we actually need an awning he is not around to provide it. Those of us who stood under our umbrellas were ridiculed for being ‘’poofters”.  Seeing there was to be no shoe inspection Small Ball Cock was brave enough to arrive in his new luminous platform sole trainers.  A group photo was taken by Bugger Mee before we all set off hoping not to come back drenched to the core. 

The Dog's Bollocks led the way and immediately started chasing the cows just to get them irritated enough that we all had to gingerly walk past and hope they wouldn’t chase us in return for TDB’s unruly behaviour. 

As we entered the paddy fields the runners left on their own route and the walkers followed what we could see of the flooded path. Jumping between puddles and avoiding stepping on the masses of frogs that were scampering out of our way, was the procedure for most of the route until we came to the mangroves. Then the heavens opened and the umbrella holders had a smug grin as they looked at the sodden bunch desperately trying to reach home.

The last of the route was along the beach and at least the saturated sand was nice and hard to walk on.  Being a fair way ahead of the walking group I approached a gushing river. Remembering that I thought I heard the Hare stating that it was low tide so the river would be in our favour I entered the rapids cursing that no allowance had been taken in for the pouring rain and the force of the flow. Dreading that I would not make it through to the other side I finally reached dry ground only to hear Hashers calling to me come back. What??? The home site was up the river on the side I had just come from. Now I had to risk my life and cross the raging torrent of water again. Luckily I made it back with Bugger Me helping me to get up the bank.

A drenched lot sodden from head to toe had all made it home. Well all of us except Small Ball Cock who managed to keep his feet dry in his platform trainers. Most Hashers had wisely brought a change of clothing but poor French Tart had to endure dinner in her dripping attire.

 The meal was right next door at The Nest and we all enjoyed a feast of salad, toast with salsa, soup and pasta. 

On On

BC


TartanTart Moderator

Langkawi Hash House Harriers - Hash no 657


It being the time of year when Hashers are visiting the far-flung realms, this meet was deemed a Hash bash and falling on July 5 the theme was all American.

The meeting point was far away in an area of lush green, rolling hills and meadows. A somewhat hazy sky softened the sun as it started sinking behind the hills. It was hot and the air hung heavy.

Our bunch; MucArse, TweetyTwat, Karsanogenic and Rock Cock were the first to arrive on location. The car of organisers Bugger Mee and Sodomiser was pulled off the road with an American (well sort of) flag sticking out from the window. It hung limply - there was no wind. It looked a bit like a movie set from Breaking Bad. Skunky McCavern arrived soon thereafter on his trusty motorbike.

Tartan Tart arrived with 6 minutes to spare, with Bearded Clit and Clit Eastwood. The tension was mounting: would anyone else arrive? At two minutes to six Adrian de Turd and Bigapist rolled in in a cloud of dust caused by an attempted handbrake turn. By now a call had come from Johnny Walker and Black Label that they would not be making curtain call as the ferry with Penangites Speed Hound, Fruit and Period was late. They finally arrived rolling up off the track in an even bigger cloud of dust – you’d swear these guys had never seen dirt!

Black Label had gone the whole hog and dressed up as a footballer cum rapper. Bugger Mee had a small version of the American flag on her shirt. After finally getting the pic of the cast we set off. Of course no markers, just a vague idea of in which direction to start. At which point Bugger Mee admitted to a poor sense of direction. As we set off a motorcyclist and his woman, the latter dressed in a black burka, meandered past both looking somewhat disparagingly at the American Flag.

Scene 1 - The Departure: Lights, Action and Camera: The cast of runners  comprising  Johnny Walker, the Penang crew, Rock Cock, Tartan Tart and Sodomiser were away. Then those who drink in the scenery followed accompanied by Hash Kash (hash dog), who had a field day herding cows!

Scene 2 - The Hill: Leading group seen tackling hill in the distance by those enjoying the pastoral scenes despite occasional motorbikes coming through. Lead group tracks up hill and traverses in front of electricity pylons (out of sight of others).

Scene 3 - Banana pit stop: Those at the rear are seen tackling hill, fording a stream and finally at the summit, where Black Label finds mini ripe bananas on a fallen tree. Up here in the hills these could have been organic bananas bringing a new meaning to “unzip a banana” - they were pretty good.

At this point dissention arose in the group as there was no clear way forward. Pylons were in the picture, a track down led to a house. Some were already heading back on the same track.

Scene 4 - The Split: Black Label, Bearded Clit, Clit Eastwood and Tweety Twat headed back. MucArse and Karsanogenic were dithering, Skunky McCavern headed out in true Guam style in the general direction of down. Bugger Mee’s claim to a poor sense of direction was well founded as she has no recollection of the route (which she had walked 3 times previously, the last together with Skunky McCavern).

Scene 5 – Reunification: Everyone excepting Skunky McCavern is now on the return trip – back from whence they came. A few cows scattered around along the road, a couple of trucks and extras on motor cycles heading out for a night on the town. 

Scene 5 -Beer o’clock:  The runners have formed a reception committee across the road. Team Africa (Clits, Black Label and Tweety Twat) strode in, Adrian de Turd and wife followed, with Karsanogenic, MucArse and Hash Kash close on their heels. All before dark it must be noted.

Scene 6 Finale; Skunky McCavern and Black Label  provided a “breakdance cabaret” and much beer was quaffed.

It’s a wrap and a happy group heads off to Kuah for Chinese at the lively YL street restaurant.

On On 


Tweety Twat




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
(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

Some 20 or so pax and 2 pets turned up at the run site. And they were glowing with enthusiasm, the pets, that is. The GM, Small Ball Cock, was missing and replaced by Karsanogenic, who btw., made for a good stand in GM, despite downplaying it.

The Hares uttered their notes to the run, but I am sure, only the dogs understood it completely - and off we went. Along the mangrove, across the main road, up the canal we met one of the hares, acting as a signpost and making sure we understood the signage. 

Huffing n puffing, Prick v Dyck led the runners pack through the Kampong into the greenery on a single tarmac track towards home. Reaching the runsite, after apparently 5.5km, we surely appreciated a cold beer. In addition, the hares had prepared a magic potion to supress any criticism towards shortcomings of the run. And it worked - it was a great run indeed!

Finding volunteers for the bloody scribe (who the f@#$ reads this anyways) and the executioner (Sauerkraut) was a pain in the neck, both came forward very sluggishly. With the circle structure in place, the GM finally disclosed Prick v. Dyck as the Secret Snitch Bitch. 

Only one, but one substantial charge, was mumbled towards Black Label, Sauerkraut, Sore Bum and Muc Arse. It was for "widely" (or was it wildly?) spreading their legs. What on earth is wrong with that? Obviously dazzled by this very observation P v. D could not think of any other charge. The brains blood supply had flown somewhere else..........

No visitors, no virgins were registered but 6 returners were honoured to find their way back to the Hash. Probably nothing better to do, hey!?

Hand Job, who eagerly came forward to be Beermeister, but claimed he has no clue what to do and what it involves. What a true Hasher! 

He even acted as executioners’ substitute once. And as Hand Job was doing it, the time was obviously too short for him to come, and splash the liquid onto the charged. He held it back - what a gentleman!

Mafioso Mongrel and Cod Piss became Hash Heroes as they managed the full walk in a stride. Although, it needs mention, that Cod Piss, who came in first, had the great advantage of being walked pulled and dragged by the dog – The Dog’s Bollocks - who was one of the few understanding the instructions.

Hash shit was accepted by MucArse on behalf of Hash Cash, who is apparently completely oblivious what "Cash -> back" means. Finally she received the Shit for something which escaped me, but it must have been of tremendous importance - for sure!

The Hash Hymn concluded the circle and The Dog’s Bollocks eagerly animated the pack to join in before leaving for makanan.

Scarborough was the entrusted watering hole and as usual the fish n chips were more than plentiful. Probably that is, due to the spreading disease: vegetarianism! A lot of poor fish sacrificed their lives for nothing, and were left behind. RIP! 

Another great Hash came to an end, thank you Hares - well done!


On On


Johnny Walker

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