451 - at last!

Scribe: Cunter Ass Thompson          Hare: Nancy Boy

Way back when Sheik Meme was only knee high to a toadstool, it was early January in Macau and winter had settled on the island of Coloane as the snowflakes gently filled that air and the horsedrawn sleighs glided through the pristine snow...wait, what?

Whoa, what a flashback...I came to with a snort out of my painkiller induced daze in Norman's bar as Pubic Plucker's faithful Jaeger was straining against the tensile strength of nylon to get his nose that much closer to my beer...there was nary a fleck of slush nor a whinny of horses, nay silly this is Macau! The smog gently filled the nostrils and the taxi's and buses careened through the staginant puddles.

But fear not dear drunken reader! For despite these apparent shortcomings of Macau on a winter Saturday, it is actually the best place you could find yourself on a given Saturday for the beautiful golden nectar was flowing, the harriettes were a-running, and the TMH3 was a hashing!

The pack slowly assembled with Nasiturd and Scooterbabe even coming in heavy one Canadian (unfortunately this Drunk Canuck's name was been erased from my etch-a-sketch quality like memory). We had a couple of other new faces, one back for his second TMH3 hash having survived the 4-5-oh! extravaganza the previous week was hasher Mark, sporting his speedy racist Lycra again that made the harriettes who came to the hash swoon. There was one other new face who sadly has not returned to the hash (or at least not to the knowledge of this wanker) who I have no clue her name either as the later free-flowing Tsing-Tao of the hash has since washed clean my slateboard like recollection. I thought her name was something like Cheynne or Montana or something...maybe she was Hannah Montana? Anyways, a damn shame to not have her back as she has the great makers for a hasher indeed (and speedy wheels to boot!).

Anyways, I digress, the pack began it's assembly in Norman's bar with Colonic, Pubic Plucker, Sheik Meme, Roger and Out, Maid in Macau, and 008 all having to seriously consider just staying in the bar (which would be acceptable hash behavior!). Sadly the hare Nancy Boy said out with ya wankers and gave us the boot and pointed us on true trail to the Northeast.

We hit the trail and immediately hit the beach, but there was no Vangelis playing and there was no David Hasselhoff running up the beach...nay we zigged and zagged across, around, and on top every possible obstacle like a frantic incontinent canine. We crossed Juno, Sword, Gold, Utah, and Omaha as we slogged our way through the sand towards The Westin.

I raised my arm and shook an angry fist skyward at the dastardly hare as my Kidneys were debating whether they were going to stay here or come with me on trail, luckily right then the Percocet kicked in and it was happy days again as I hashed the rest of the rainbow colored hash trail on a pretty pretty Pegasus. We scrambled up the hill and on up to the traffic circle where it took us a fair bit on the check (largely in part due to dodging the ton and a half dump trucks that were barreling through and (quite impolitely) running over the hare's marks...apparently the hare's mum never told him not to play and lay (trail that is) in the middle of the street). Checking all the way down towards the Village to the east, New Boot Mark and Cunter found the hare's idea of a false trail where he basically hopped the curb like a runaway car and kept laying through the bog until he could lay no more then made it a YBF...well played heir hare.

Finally True trail was found down through the ad hoc junkyard and moments later the prevailing theme of the both the hare's true intentions and the trail came into view as we ran through Macau's newest graveyard...lots of open graves, already numbered, ready for the worst offender on trail (or the most drunken/poor-balanced). Not being tired enough to lie down in a grave quite yet (there's not enough beer in there!), we followed true trail around and up above the cemetery back to the main road where we continued up to a lovely circle jerk up and underneath the base of the upper reservoir dam (damn!), and then on up son-of-a-gun hill where we resisted going down through the youth hostel to the Macau Dome and instead went around the other side through paths that were virgin to this hasher and through more grave looking diggings in the ground that were actually construction type sites of some kind. The off trail shiggy was some of the best this hasher has hashed through in COloane as we parted branches, leaves, and circumnavigated embankments until popping out on the trail above the other reservoir and completing the run around it right above the grass sledding hill before coming to a doozy of a check. Sheik MeMe, Hasher Mark, and Cunter scattered out before Sheik Meme spotted the flour deftly laid 1mm thick on a sunken wooden slat on the cross dam walkway. On On was called and we swooped to the other side, now back on-on trail. We worked our way down the road below and followed true trail down the road with the walkers dropping to the beach below and the runners continuing on the road past the apartments before being led down towards the BBQ picnic area via a large slippery rock that while it still had water flowing over it, the ever thoughtful hare had placed a rope for us to use. Cunter and Sheik MeMe stoutly decreed: "I choose to live!" and used the rope to absail the monolith while Hasher Mark (apparently endowed with super Lycra powers) cried out into the afternoon smog a la James Bond Goldeneye "I'm invincible!!!" and took on the rock sans rope which the rock's nasty henchman - gravity soon double teamed on Hasher Mark and made him rethink using the rope.

Luckily all made it down with bodies intact and continued through the BBQ pits and then popped up on the road once more via an unused path. This time we stayed on the asphalt until ducking in a back alley and winding around the backside of Normans and on in.

The group gathered on in as we had more people come on in, even Jaeger and Pubic Plucker made it in with Jaeger raring to do it all again. Finally all souls made it in and even Betty, Betty's Boobs, and Jumping Balls joined us, although Betty was busy taking apart both of his cellphones and trying to Macgyver them into one and all three were in strange non running attaire, I believe they are called "Pa-nts".

Down-Downs were doled out, phone numbers were attempted to be squeaked out of the new Virgin Hasher, and plans were made for ononon back in Taipa Village which we ended up back at the Irish Bar (of course!) and I think there was food at one point, but nay I was happy with the 7 course meal of beer, beer, and beer.

Anyways, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it!

On - where the hell did the new harriette go to?? and what was her name?? dammit! - On
-Cunter Ass Thompson