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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

Hash Scribe Report – Run 658



The Hash was convened, neatly hidden amongst the sandpits of Kedawang. The hares posted themselves on point duty, sensibly, to avoid Hashers getting lost in the dunes or disappearing in the quicksands. Hares for the run were Adrian de Turd, and Bigapist, dutifully obliging before their departure from Langkawi (again) in August. And, GM was a holiday refreshed Small Ball Cock.


A happy and obliging visitor, All Black Balls, arrived sporting a sale tag on his trainers. The trainers didn’t look particularly new – so maybe ABB was just bent on getting a more than a fair share of the beer. Two other hapless hashers fell foul of the GMs footwear inspection – a bit unfair perhaps - but  in good hash spirit they accepted the unjust and sloshed the sweaty Skol down. 


Runners, walkers, and amblers were duly despatched onto a route through shady, pretty lanes  of nice and flat rural west Kedawang. The run proceeded without mishap for most, and a timely return to the circle looked promising. However, the ever-chatting tailenders, lead by our GM and his hooter forgot the Hares’ advice that the return home was partly via the trail out. As ample punishment the amblers completed a double loop adding about 1.5km to the route and 20 minutes.


GM slotted straight back in to the mean and vindictive mode he is so much loved and hated for, producing the Chilly Chairs which had been absent for too long.

First in was the Executioner (Karsanogenic) for name dropping MucArse when nominating her as scribe. Karsanogenic was duly sentenced to Chilly Chair, beer, and scribeship for himself.


Visitors and Returners were numerous and all were welcomed (back) in the normal way. Skunky McCavern (Is that a real hash name? Does he have one?) was punished (again and again) for inappropriate shirt wear.


As usual, most hashers ended up in the circle to receive drenchings and down downs, or icy arses for any or no good reason at all.


The award of Hash Hero and Hash Turd was challenging since no one appeared to have excelled in either direction. Hash hero was awarded to King Penguin for “tooting his hooter up front” , a feat rarely achieved! The turd went to The Dog’s Bollocks – I think, but somehow it ended up on the GM’s head, so the custodianship remains uncertain.


With advancing darkness and the risk of food going cold, the hash was closed without ceremony or singing - Shame!


Coco’s meal was western roast chicken and two veggies – beautifully prepared and presented – and very tasty. Well done Coco , and well done hares for doing the deal. Hares for Run 659 will be Clit Eastwood and Bearded Clit, and the GM will be King Penguin. Bravo!


On On 


Karsanogenic


TartanTart Moderator

Hash no 655 (June 7) – Langkawi Beach HHH

18 stalwarts pitched at the cow pat infested meeting place, near the abandoned but colourful disembodied building next to the notorious pink bridge. Hash Kash was resplendent in a new neon green harness which made her look a bit like a guide/rescue dog (probably for good reason).

Small Ball Cock called the unruly bunch to assemble in a circle. #Tweety Twat was sadly remonstrated for having new shoes, which she fiercely denied (they were indeed her “best” casuals) but her pleas fell upon deaf ears. A shoe was filled with beer, of which one half went down her throat. Had it been at the end of the run, it would all have disappeared !

Then it was the turn of the hares, Bearded Clit and Clit Eastwood, known to all as team Clit.

Now they managed to pull a cunning stunt on the crew by combining their self acclaimed “National Prostate Day” with a worthy cause (picking up trash). For the sake of health and hygiene rubber gloves were distributed - after all you wouldn’t want to perform a digital, or pick up someone else’s trash without a protective barrier. A few good-natured demos of what to do with the gloved finger followed before the black bags were handed out.

Runners went off to the paddy fields, where they passed a large but peaceful herd of water buffaloes. The walkers took to the bridge and went down by the riverside to the jetty, where both they and the runners had to go to the end before embarking on the task of rubbish collection at two of the beaches off the jetty

Skunky McCavern seeing the filled bags of Rock Cock and #Tweety Twat said “Hey, anything left for me ?” which will go down as the understatement of the year. One opportunist on his way back from fishing managed to get his plastic bag of rubbish transferred to a hasher who then carried it out. The pile of black bags deposited at the jetty gate for later collection was laudable.

Back in cow pat heaven, everyone waited for Small Ball Cock not only to return, but to reunite walkers and runners in the circle. When all had assembled they were asked to comment on the hash. The answer in virtual unison was “rubbish”, although the underlying motive behind the walk and its generally scenic route was appreciated.

Karsanogenic leapt forward to take up the role of executioner and the first offenders were called into the centre. They were the latecomers and returners, who zealously downed their beer. Then it was MucArse in the centre for namedropping!

Seeing that she and the executioner were closely acquainted there was a chance this could put a spoke in the wheel for the rest of the evening. Despite dancing a pretty dance around Karsanogenic, there was no sparing her from the executioner’s icy jug.

Then it was the chance of the evening’s snitch bitch, who came up with something from the far side. Small Ball Cock was called to the centre and punished for driving without rear number plate.

Skunky McCavern, a hasher from Guam, was asked to step into the centre, which he willingly did, baring his bronzed torso, to be found guilty of indecent exposure, and bringing a distinct pornographic feel to the circle. He accepted the punishment and was spared further embarrassment thanks to Johnny Walker having a spare Hash rag available.

But not for long - Hashers wanted an explanation for his Hash name. It had come about as a result of him delivering a blast of flatulence when leading a group of hashers through a narrow 100m tunnel in Guam, so if you are behind Skunky – be warned!

Bringing a positive light to bear on the proceedings Small Ball Cock called Prick van Dyke and his missus, Coming From Behind into the circle for successfully achieving 31 years of marriage, which he described as a great achievement when many could hardly maintain concentration for 31 minutes. The happy pair obligingly kissed for Hash Flash to record for posterity.

On that happy note members reconvened at The Roof restaurant for a Chinese dinner. 


Hash scribe

#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 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


TartanTart Moderator

Hash Run 643, the Christmas Special, congregated at Kampung Kubang Badak at a pleasant spot near the river. However the unsettling thing was a sign saying “Danger Crocodiles”, “No Camping” and “No Swimming”. The reptiles must have escaped from the nearby crocodile farm, and the ones which escape are always the wily ones. There’s nothing like the threat of being grabbed by the ankle and dragged into the river to keep Hashers on their toes.


The course wound six km or so around rubber plantations, along the main road a bit, through some nice shady patches and through the kampung, with a presence of magnificent mountains on both sides. Quite a bit of excrement on the ground. Bovine or croc? Didn’t wait to find out. Another motivation to stay on track was the collection of coloured stars, yellow for designated walkers and orange for runners.


Back at home base there was a welcoming Christmas Pimms. Only, where were Cod Piss and Mafioso Mongrel? Had they been too slow for a lurking crocodile? That would surely be a Hash historic first. But no, they had stumbled off course, followed the main road and were then rightfully accused of the heinous crime of taking a short cut.


More denouncement took place when Black Label was accused of using the hooter in a non-approved manner, namely between the bum cheeks.


Johnny Walker, probably a prison camp Kommandant in a previous life, kept everyone in line in a most efficient manner. One virgin was sacrificed, and one visitor ritually humiliated. Arse was rewarded for collecting the most stars, though there was an attempt by Small Ball Cock to substitute yellow vaguely star-shaped flowery objects.


It turns out that it was the Winter Solstice, not that you’d notice it much in the tropics, and there was a full(ish) moon. This called for baying at the moon, incorporated into a Christmas Carol. Other carols were chanted using improvised Hash lyrics.


The special Christmas meal was hosted at The Brasserie in The Laguna. An excellent couscous; who could have predicted that? Presents were also randomly exchanged. I’m sure I did better out of the deal. Isn’t that the aim?


Thanks to Tartan Tart and Sauerkraut for designing a memorable 643.


Hand Job

Unwilling Scribe=


TartanTart Moderator


When men grow old and their @@@@@ grow cold and the tips of their @@@@ turn blue

They dream of a life away from strife and they tell you a tale or two.

Now give me a drink and give me a chair (chilly?) and to you a tale I'll start

Of Small Ball Cock and fey MucArse and a harlot named Tartan Tart




Now Small Ball Cock and fey MucArse were working near Wang creek

And they'd had nothink by way of a drink for well nigh on a week

A tiger or two, a sapphire blue, a couple of Skol or so

So Small Ball Cock with his mighty rocks had found the drinking slow


They formed a circle in the sand and planned their drinks campaign 

But first they had to make a run down many a muddy lane

Then on return, (will they never learn?) they sunk a crate or two

Abused themselves and several elves, well you know what Hashers do


The turd it went to Karsano- G, the hero to fey MucArse,

And Tartan Tart was wet three times - it was turning to a farce.

Tent Packer too was toasted by brew and to KP an unfair redress

Then Choir practice and off to Cactus - this hash declared a success!


On On 


KP


TartanTart Oct 18 '18 · Tags: 638, hash, scribe, kpmucarse
hashwebhero Contributor

On 27 April we gathered for our 626 run just behind Kedawang amidst sand winning grounds for a very nice and long run through kampong, rice paddy and holes in the grounds, perhaps Lars-holes? GM tried very hard to find new shoes but the wear and tear was too obvious to ignore, so the hares Matahari and Larsole were summoned into the circle. With one Dutch virgin present they tried to explain it as well as possible… but ‘Coming from Behind’ had to accompany her walking to safely return home being chased by wild dogs, crazy motorbikes and explaining flour-circles.

The three Dutch all wore proudly the color orange as is accustomed in Netherlands in celebration of King’s day. A futile attempt from GM to declare that as illegal Hash wear made clear to all that he came to the circle without doing his homework as well as he usually does. He quickly retreated and tried to refocus attention to 1st labor party being elected in 1904 in … Australia. Our Aussie friend was punished accordingly for A: not remembering and B: for being the first creator of this type of political left wing ‘can do without them’ not working on 1st of May (ahum – labor?) day party.

A group picture was taken in absence of BuggerMee, who gets a big THANKS for making great pictures at last hash, and our French Tart tried with her sweet French accent to get the group to comply to her composition wishes, hahaha. A gauge! un petit a droit … a pitta what?! 

After the excellent run the circle was called, Prick van Dyke volunteered for Scribe, Tartan Tart quickly wanted to be executioner and we found out why she was so eager… Larsole must have been her beloved role-model! Or he teaches her too well? When the virgin was called in the circle, she took one look at Small Ball Cock and started to undress to receive his… yeah what was she thinking? Even our GM had to regain his line of thought and explained the innocent welcome drink ritual for virgins. The next group was returners, almost half the group, and at the appropriate “down, down, down” song the executioner passionately executed all of us despite some having the cup empty on their heads! >>

Our hash is going green and as a first step Adrian the Turd was appointed Repsycho and wants to receive ideas to “produce” less plastic at hashes or any other idea to greenalize our hash. Hashers are encouraged to bring their own reusable water-bottles. Not all mismanagers had reacted at his “green I want to be” email, although Prick van Dyke and Coming from Behind showed new running-belts with reusable water-bottles filled at home with tap-water as clear proof of action. Not that this helped and most of the mismanagement got wet as being non-responsive??

The hash snitch revealed himself, Floppy Rod turned green as well by incriminating himself, hilarious! Where is our hash world turning into…? The snitch put Tartan tart on display for asking when the circle will be formed after the GM already called it in loud and clear. Lastly the GM was already punished by hash Snitch as he claimed to have used his car front-fender as peeing target. Our green hash world goes down-under!?

Sadly no hash hero could be appointed probably because this is no longer green too? The hash turd, definitely not green but brown wasn’t handed our either. To be continued at the next hash (627) with hares Small Ball Cock and French Tart.  Coming from Behind and Prick van Dyke volunteered for the hash (628) thereafter.

The hares explained that we will be dining at CoCo’s restaurant and that turned out to be a very nice meal again with lots of joy and laughter. Another great hash and fun evening came to an end late that night.

In going green perhaps the next rounds of naming can change green too to something like: Green Shitter, Dirty Plastic, Polluter Hooter and lets rename GM into Green Meanie!


Green on on!

Prick van Green-Dyke (none of this represents opinion of my King and any person resemblance is purely unintentional and an interpretation of your mind! – temporary insanity is claimed on forehand).