Run No: 435 - 29 Sep 07 - The Hot Box Hash - OTT to Taipa Village

 
The Hot Box Hash

Just like the migratory African sparrows (both laden and unladen), the species of Taipa Macau Hashers have a well established migratory route between their two preferred nesting sites on the Island of Taipa... In fact, legend has it that back in the early days of the hash, they still had races with blindfolded hashers known as Hash Homing Pissons who were released from their coop at the Irish bar and they would flutter about about through some divine way, be able to always find their way to their second home...The Old Taipa Tavern


And just like those Homing Pissons of old, that's where the TMH3 came together on Saturday for a trail laid by three virgin hares...unassisted!  The pack dwindled and all attempted to land and roost at the bar, but were distracted by the shiny stickers being sold by impressionable 12 year old girls...having already struck paydirt with one of our hashers a few minutes earlier, the young ladies were rewarded yet again when Lost in Space bought stickers for the whole group.  It was noted it took 3 male hashers how to figure out to get the money into the young ladies' bag.  Any further attempt at describing this entertaining situation will be left out in the interest of good taste...but entertaining it was indeed!

Slowly the pack arrived for the hares' 4:32 away time.  Nasi was temporarily perturbed that the hash had not shown up at all...but the sly pack was found to be standing on the other side of the Tavern much to his relief.  Our three hares for the day were armed with pints of beer and pitchers of flour (either it was a strange new mixed drink or it was a sign that they had just finished laying a killer trail...  But before long, the hares emerged...gathered the pack (from both sides of the tavern) and delivered a chalk talk that would make Churchill proud.  Some phallic hare symbols were explained and the workings of The Hot Box Hash were delineated and like that, the pack was off with a flurry, heading south behind the OTT, where the pack got promptly lost.  For you see, the conniving hares had scheduled a heavy 4 meter truck to attempt to enter a 3.5 meter entry way and obscure the very first ONON after the initial check, but the driver's foot slipped and as he fumbled for the clutch with his sandled toes, the truck rolled back enough to expose the ONON to Cunter Ass Thompson and St Peter, who yelled 'ONON' several times at the rest of the pack but to no avail, and it was the last they saw of the pack for quite a while....

Yet it should be noted that this was not all genius in the FRB party as it was being discussed that maybe they were last week's trail's marks being that we were overlapping...somehow completely ignoring the fact that Noah sailed through the streets of Macau the previous Tuesday...they realized this no sooner than 15 minutes later.  Trail progressed N/NE and included what had to be smallest/cutest "ON ACROSS" the pack had seen...but apparently it was an on across for no apparent reason, as we came right back across moments later....trail looped East up to the main road and did an immediate circle back where it popped out across of Kingsville at the traffic circle.  Trail then wrapped around East through a little diversion in the park and across the stream before heading and headed up the hill towards the graveyard...this scribing halfmind followed the ONONs and realized he hadn't seen any in quite sometime as he crested the apex of the hill and started down towards the airport...finally the optimism faded and backtracking on the other side of the street, true trail was found at the very lowest back entrance to the graveyard.  (after later interrogation of the hares, apparently there was quite large on across arrow in the middle of the street....unfortunately, this hasher's mother doesn't let him play in the street so it was missed completely...

Trail cascaded down the graveyard like an homage to Q*Bert before popping out on the street below where an alleged misleading of the pack was done as yours truly marked the check with an initialed pack arrow (just like all the other checks) that was not the direct heading of trail, but that was the way Cunter headed to find trail...but even the FRBs couldn't get the pack lost as trail continued across the street, through the covered parking lot and around to the seaside perimeter road to the North where the Runner Walker trails joined.  While the trail was a stellar one, and a terrific creation by three virgin hares, being the hash, it is not a true trail if there is nothing to whine about.  So the whine of the day was that some of the marks on the Runners' trail were more enigmatic and elusive than guerrillas in Afghanistan...this was reinforced at the R/W join where it became apparent that the walkers' trail hare must of assaulted the runners' hare and taken all of her flour (and lunch money), as there were veritable bakeries every 10 meters after the runner walker join.  But enough complaining! The now, extremely well marked trail continued West in front of Crown and continued West.  By now the flour was so thick and constant the we broke out our nordic skis and skied along the trail all the way into the Hash's maternal womb: The Irish Bar.  A Great Trail indeed!

But Nay!  This was but a beer check!  And the hares graciously picked up the tab for the hash...although I did witness them slipping a roofie into each hasher's beer in a devilish hare tactic.  However the pack retaliated by making sure their driver had at least one more beer before he left TO DRIVE THE HARES TO B (which is a downdownable offense if ever there was one!).  The entire pack did make it into the beer check with some of them being quite confused at either

a) that trail wasn't done
b) they had never heard of the strange and frighteningly new thing called "A Beer Check"
c) They've never had a beer bought for them before in a bar

But needless to say, the beer was cold, the pack's legs made wobbly and finally the hares escaped in their getaway car with Beer Queer (although he might just have been kidnapped by this Charlie's Angels trio of hares and forced to drive at chalk-point...the police are still investigating)

The pack set off with another R/W split with the walkers' trail being well marked whilst the runner's were sent searching more frantic then an incontinent puppy in a carpeted living room... The hares drove past, laughed, and kept on going.  Finally, after sweeping the entire four block radius and only finally the Walker's trail (and the occasional IED), the king (or perhaps more appropriately, the queen) of all backlays was found, laid in the eclipsing shadow of a parked scooter.  After this, the pack was back on trail and followed trail East to the large fountained roundabout and back south before turning East at the very corner that gave the pack such trouble last week.  But not so this time, there was so much flower that those who were still skiing along were being passed by hashers now employing dog sled teams as we ran in on the red bricks in the cool shadow towards the back of the Taipa Village where it was presumed we were OTT bound, but nay, the hares brought the pack in next to the Gazebo in a very nice gathering area where we could take in the haze-tastic sunset and enjoy the occasional breeze.

The Hares laid a great trail and circle soon commenced where the crimes of the day were accounted for which included the Captain showing up at A and at B, but not running trail, yet still was in hashing gear but his disguise was given away by the blackberry on his hashing shorts (blasphemy!) and the laptop in his hand.  Also, the hares brought a virgin, Luke, who had the snazziest hashing outfit on of the day, but major props for him coming out unknowing and unsuspecting of the wonders of the hash, we hope to see him back soon...also Nancy Boy, TMH3 Hashtorian made sure that Nasiturd was recognized for his 100th hash with the TMH3 while St Peter was recognized for his TMH3 300th hash.  We didn't want to give them something they didn't want or didn't know what to do with...so we gave them both a cold beer...they knew what to do with those.  The Hares were recognized several times over for their virgin haring and with her TMH3 trails alone numbering at 7, it came time to do away with the name of Just Sandy...there was much hemming and hawwing and gnashing of teeth as the halfminds thought.  Finally, citing her love of the Bungee, a bungee slang term was contributed by St Peter of 'Fish Bait' which is a bungee term I believe referring to the likeness one is like once cast off and continuing up to the dangling, waiting to be reeled in after the bouncing has stopped...there are oh so many other connotations possible to the name, and it was deemed as a very fitting name, and with a cascade of flour, beer, and other yet to be identified liquids, Fish Bait was baptized and it was good.

Nasi ran a great circle, and Betty did a great job of RA by injecting great amounts of TMH3 religion into the circle.  Motormouth and Rubber Dick were visiting from HK and it is always great to see Motormouth and the great hashers she brings with her....Finally the circled ended, the hash split for dinner at the OTT as well as the Cantonese restaurant just up the block before reconvening and heading out drinking on after...unfortunately, the hares' roofies had kicked in by then, and dear reader, this scribe's memory ends as such, but no doubt it was a great and glorious night...

On on to next week and what I believe is the Onniversary celebration of the TMH3???

On - How Many Hashers does it take to screw in the a lightbulb???............Don't be Silly!  Hashers don't screw in lightbulbs....they screw in the Beer Van! - On
-Cunter Ass Thompson

-------------------------


FINALLY, A BLONDE JOKE

 A blonde calls her boyfriend and says, "Please come over here and help
 me. I have a killer jigsaw puzzle, and I can't figure out how to get it
 started." Her boyfriend asks, "What is it supposed to be when it's finished?"
 The blonde says, "According to the picture on the box, it's a tiger."
 Her boyfriend decides to go over and help with the puzzle. She lets
 him in and shows him where she has the puzzle spread all over the table.

 He studies the pieces for a moment, looks at the box, then turns to
 her and says, "First of all, no matter what we do, we're not going to be
 able to arrange these pieces into anything resembling a tiger." He takes
 her hand and calmly says, "Second, I want you to relax. Let's have a nice
 cup of tea, and then," he sighed, "let's put all the Frosted Flakes back
 in the box."

{flickr4j_set id="72157602381100986"}