Run No: 426 - 4 Aug 07 - Irish Bar, Taipa Colonic's irrigation of Taipa

Colonic's Irrigation of Taipa

It was a dark and stormy Night...err strike that, more like it was a sweltering and intensely sunny afternoon as the pack assembled at the feet of the faithful patron saint of the TMH3, the stoop of the Irish Bar. The halfminds trickled in from various directions of the square as we had one of our better turn outs in recent weeks due to several wankers returning back to lovely Macau from Holiday.  Namely Nasiturd, Roger & Out, Maid in Macau, and Mini-Me. They were all administered appropriate downdowns for their transgression of going on Holiday and not taking the pack with them. Sheik Meme showed up after a couple week hiatus from the hash in his man leggings that were of a color that could only be called "Oh God, Oh God, My Eyes! They're Burning!" Even the bold and daring Lost in Space made a showing at his old hash having a smile on his face that could only be from the joy of his new plane, or perhaps it was the alcohol, it's always hard to tell with this lot. Two more bold wankers who were missed terrifically rounded out the pack with and Granddad made a triumphant return (a hash trash writer of lesser moral standard would say that Granddad's return was a sight for sore eyes, but that would be in terrible taste).

So there we were, set to start the trail when one of the hares*, Wan Cum (One Cum?) showed up to tell the pack about the special game for the pack on trail for the day. The game of "If you hear a crunch when you step, you've found Colonic Irritation's Eye Glasses that are somewhere on trail". (*Colonic, the hare, insisted that he was a one man hare on Saturday, and it is not contested that this one man powerhouse turned Taipa inside out however Wan Cum did relate the story to the pack that she had gone out and done the majority of trail backwards looking for said glasses of the hare. That sounds like assisting the hare in my book, thus the denotation of cohare.)

So with the only chalk talk instructions from the hares being "Run and Roast at 350 degrees for 90 minutes, Baste in sweat regularly and serve with cold beer", the pack of about 13(?) set off.
Within mere seconds, Cunter Ass Thompson was able to lead astray the FRBs after following true trail around the Jockey Club past a mark that looked like it was made by a mentally challenged llama. Cunter, having decided that lumps of dried concrete looked more like the true trail drew the rest of the sober halfminds about 400 meters in the wrong direction. When asked, his only reply for the reason why was: "I was blinded by Constant Wanker's ascot/cravat/neckerchief ensemble".

After course corrections were made, the pack recongealed as it set off past the boy scout HQ, around the outside of Ocean Gardens and onto a course that looked like we were headed in the second level of the bridge to Macau. Tittyana and Sheik Meme mysteriously spent a self admitted "10-15 minutes" at the check at the Ocean Gardens Tunnel. What these two were doing on trail for those 10-15 minutes, we'll never know, but they did catch up to the pack with a spring in their step and a song in their heart as the rest of the pack got lead on a large circle jerk up and around the base of the double-decker bridge. It was observed that Constant Wanker spotted Maid in Macau and Roger & Out up ahead on the other side of the traffic circle and blazed a trail through the maze of water features on center of the roundabout. Only the be denied a straight shot on the other side by the water pools and so he bobbed and weaved like a gleeful mouse on the hunt for cheese at the end of the trail. The shameless hasher with questionable logic, Cunter, decided to run through the offending water feature pool of 30 degree water and no doubt disturbed many a mosquito larvae in the process. (Not to fear, I am sure that the larvae's' brazillion kin will take out payment in blood in a later day for this transgression) and straight on back to trail. As the pack passed under the bridge in a moment of blissful shade, the dastardly hare had laid a smirking ONON back around the towards the beach where we could see Lost In Space, NasiTurd, Nancy Boy, & Betty leading the pack on. Betty took the opportunity to take a stroll on the beach while NasiTurd jaunted over past the parked film crew and police officers who were shooting what must have been the Macau version of CHIPs. Nasi found true trail and the pack was off again, right back to Ocean Gardens. That dastardly hare had done an outstanding job of bringing the two parts of trail within 30 meters of each other.

With the thought in their mind that the hare had said something about stairs, the pack tore through Ocean Gardens and up the amphitheatre's 9 stairs. Nancy Boy and Nasiturd were in hot (literally) pursuit of the hare and the thought did occur that maybe that was aforementioned stairs perhaps? Did the hare have mercy in his beer battered heart today? Nay my friend, for we rounded the corner and gazed upward into the blinding sun, a towering set of stairs lay ahead and we ascended up the Stairway like a Led Zeppelin song. Only to reach the top and see that there were a multitude of playgrounds...somebody has a sick sense of humor...or at least hyperactive kids.

Unfortunately for this halfmind author of this trash, it was the last he saw of the pack so you dear reader must employ your imagination to fill in the images and stories of debauchery and shenanigans that happened on trail with the pack. But the bastard hare's trail pressed on, rounding around to the South side of the hill all the way around and back down to just in front of Crown. There at the corner was the first Runner/Walker split, with the Runners heading down the East side of Crown and then taking a left around the Junkyard and down to the suicide corner by the graveyard. There on the back corner of the graveyard, the pack was surprised with another R/W split with the Runners continuing to push SE up the hill behind the graveyard. At this point, it was observed several young school kids romping through hills of Taipa and rolling on the ground, for you see, the hare had laid so much flour on such a long trail, that the youngsters thought that it had finally snowed in Taipa for the first time in recorded history. The pack stepped over the kids making flour angels in the street and pushed on to the top of the hill behind the graveyard where there was a seemingly harmless ON ACROSS that led to another set of a couple hundred steps up to the path above.

With the sauna like heat already affecting this halfmind, a bit of Hashing history came to mind. Many of you may be familiar with the popular Children's story of "The Little Engine That Could" with the memorable mantra of said little engine being "I think I can, I think I can..." as it mounts its charge up the intimidating hill. Well it is a little known fact that this is a story in fact derived from an ancient Hashing tale. For you see, the true mantra is slightly different and was being uttered by the pack as the slogged their way up the other large hill on Taipa, that motto is: "I'll drink a can, I'll drink a can" (or for the halfminds who had turned vindictive against the hare by this point it was "He'll drink 5 cans, He'll drink 5 cans").

But finally the steps ceased and the pack emerged above the clouds at a 3 way check. And the hare must have been visited by angels or had some kind of other spiritual revelation, as he had a change of heart and instead of true trail going even higher, it turned to the West and headed around the hill back towards the Taipa Village.

The hare took the pack down the steps and across the road past the Colonial Houses, over the river and through the woods, through Taipa Village and around Dumbo on the corner to the North side of the Olympic Stadium where there was a fierce fight going on between the hare's final ON HOME markings and the fastidious broom of the local street sweepers. Luckily, the pack could not be deterred from the golden nectar at this point and their homing pigeon instincts kicked in. It was noted by one halfmind while passing through the large sunken traffic circle pathways, that Nasiturd's angrily laid markings on the cement beam that beaned him in the head over a month ago are still alive and well.

The pack returned ONIN to the sanctuary of the Irish Bar's steps where Beer Queer was spotted enjoying a brew inside the air conditioned Bar and occasionally putting his head out to see if all had survived. Meanwhile, Granddad was playing kick the bottle with the local youth population (and occasionally retrieving it from the latticework which revealed an entirely new games for the youth...let's see how high we can get it stuck). The pack all made it in within a pretty good timeframe of each other showing that the hare did an excellent job of both keeping the pack entertained and spaced extremely well, and ensuring that anyone laying trail of Taipa for the next month will already have marks laid as the entire island was covered by his most excellent trail. The pack stood around, warming up the livers for the circle to follow. The only person Missing on Trail, was the hare! A phone call was made and the hare showed up fresh as a daisy with 4 local recruits in tow. It was Colonic's son and his three schoolmates who did win the hash game today of finding Colonic's glasses, which we laying on the sidewalk by the graveyard, completely unmolested, amazing.

The circle commenced with many falsely deserved downdowns that were only met with even more well deserved downdowns. Some singing downdowns were done (with Granddad winning the day with his outstanding downdown song), the backsliding wankers from holiday were made to drink, The hare was honored multiple times for his deviant creation of one of the best TMH3 trails this halfmind has been on, a challenge of Constant Wanker and Sheik MeMe's man leggings was done, and Maid in Macau and Betty's Boobs were nursed back to health through the healing power of alcohol. Nancy Boy had technology in circle which was an immediate downdown-worthy offense. The rest of the activities of the circle were lost in the drunken blur that seems to keep the happenings of the hash so secret. The pack dispersed with a reconvening of an ONAFTER at Tuk Tuk's where (while not attended by this halfmind) it can only be presumed there was good drink, good food, and naked table dancing.

On - That's my version of it and I'm sticking to it until I sober up - On
-Cunter Ass Thompson