Hash 462 : 5.4.08 : Real Harriettes don't need plastic accessories : Irish Bar to OTT

Hares: Pubic Plucker & Dick Pastry           Scribe: Cunter Ass Thompson

The Sun rose on another lovely day in Macau...only things looked different, this strange blue looking thing loomed over the entire city like an alien menance....my immediate reaction was to grab my trusty wooden pitchfork and torch and shake it at this strange being, it was quickly negated as soon as I stepped out of the house as both the pitchfork and Torch spontaneously combusted...and then it dawned on me, this strange blue thing was what a haze free sky looked like....it had been so long it just seemed down right foreign. But nay, the sun was a-blazing and the sky a-blueing as Macau's Springtime weather made a hasty exit and the Sultry Summer seemed to be moving back in.

Being such a blistering day could only mean one thing for the hash, the return of Wan Cum! Yes, there is a direct correlation (which way it goes, I'm not quite sure), but if it's a hottie of a trail, no doubt Wan Cum is there to hash and imbibe, good on her.

Wan Cum and the rest of the hash congregated at the Eternal Shrine of the TMH3, the Irish Bar, as half of the dynamic duo of harriettes, Dick Pastry, stood there with damp hair which elicited such comments as the heat and it turns out that it wasn't the heat that dampened the 'doo, rather Dick Pastry's sordid affair with the shower Head as she had already had three rendezvous with it that day which the grin on her face and the spring in her step seemed to be a testament to (and good on her!).

The other half of the harriettes, Pubic Plucker came into the box from around the corner and immediately brought to mind the question of if she just left D2's or at least did she have any more Peruvian Marching Powder left to share with the pack.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The hares did a quick chat to make sure they both laid trail on the same island (1 in 3 shot!), and then led a chalk talk,

 

making sure to point out whose marks were whose so blamed could be doled out accordingly (silly, we deal out the punishments all around here....we're equal opportunity like that)


008 took the occasion to ask Scooterbabe if there was going to be a test on the chalk talk later

 


While Pubic Plucker did the official safety demonstration on how to run as well as took the occasion to point out that in case of a water landing, to grab your own seat (or another lovely co-ed hasher's seat) as while it might not be a floatation device, it's also good to grab another's seat when going down...

Pubic Plucker and Dick Pastry pointed out it was an A2B which Nasi promptly misheard as A2Beer and while it was a misheard quote (yet absolutely technically correct of course), that was all Nasi needed to hear and he was off like a shot



Meanwhile Beer Queer saw that the BoltonBollock-death-mobile was the beer van and quickly took off lest he be stuck driving it



Nasi and Roger and Out took off checking immediately down the alley, which we were somewhat concerned for Nasi and his lunch money as Roger and out in his White Tank Top and Cap looked like a hooligan looking for a scrap...


Finally true trail was found, paralleling the boulevard west past the jockey club and through the Ocean Garden tunnel before YBF'ing on the stairs up the hill.

True trail then made the pack scatter through Ocean Garden village like Ants dodging a magnifying glass, hurdling over hedges, and leaping over chains. Meanwhile St Peter seemed to be driven by a higher force as he calmly negotiated the trail with nary a problem, emerging on the other side in FRB status.

Meanwhile a trio of smarter hashers circumnavigated OG on the outside and came out ahead for their trouble. Beer Queer however though was confused and with hopes of an alcoholic reprieve, made the international sign for "Beer me!",

sorry BQ, there's a lot more trail left to get to the beer, but that's okay, you can make the hares drink for it later (and lo they did!)

True trail wrapped around the north edge of Taipa, all the way through the Crown traffic circle and on past Nasi and Scooterbabe's with Roger and Out and Cunter blazing the way until reaching the intersection on the corner of Tittiana's flat. They spread out in a 1 block radius around and found a false trail from somewhere in front of the graveyard before calling last mark and returning to the intersection.

Having found Betty's Boobs and Maid in Macau on trail, we progressed back to last mark but not before hollering at skyward at Tittiana's window that she should be out hashing...sadly there was no response, however we could see through her window a waving towel....

Having arrived at last mark, the trio (trio, not Triad...that's a different hash), of Nasi, Shithouse, and Beer Queer arrived from the East and said they were following flour, well this was news to St Peter R&O and Cunter who followed true trail flour from the other direction...St Peter and Cunter headed out on the trail that Nasi and gang came in on (in the right direction this time) while R&O, with Napeleonistic determination led the rest of the gang in a direction that while not true trail, apparently worked out for them in the end (a little known fact, Roger&Out trained with a Water Diviner in Hull last time he was home...mysteriously since Macau gets no where near the rain (nor snow) of England, his skills have evolved in a Darwinian leap so he has gained the ability to Flour Divine...he summoned this skill to lead the divided pack towards the beer).

St Peter and Cunter followed true trail all the way back past New Mythology to the Crown Circle which then doubled back through the dump and to the Graveyard corner...ahh those devious hares.

This would be a good place to point out that the flour markings (which were well laid, just like a hare should be as well if they play their cards right), were strange as they were not in unnatural looking straight lines, nay, they were in true hash form as clumps, splatters, and dobs. Yes, the harriettes lay by hand...no need for plastic devices here for these harriettes to do a great lay...bravo harriettes bravo!

Anyways, back to trail, true trail continued on...skirting the edge of the graveyard that was broadcasting a monotone man speaking over the loudspeakers with either instructions on how to clean graves, or was doing a book on tape reading of Tolstoy...one of the two). The hashers dodged the respect-payers and continued on true trail up the hill behind the graveyard which the hares had thoughtfully closed down two of the four lanes just for the hash...what thoughtful harriettes!

Halfway up we headed we apparently finally ran out of asphalt in Taipa as we finally veered off the blacktop for the first time that day, as we paid our respects to the graves that were apparently ignored by the masses and zigged and zagged between them while still making time to enjoy the shiggy as we slalomed our way through the seemingly perpetual saplings that are thoughtfully planted by some wanker in the middle of the trail.



Finally we rejoined the upper loops and continued on SouthEast past above the airport and St Peter stopped and said "hark! do you hear that? Such beautiful singing!" and decided to break the golden rule of hashing and check *UP* HILL! I cried out "No, don't do it St Peter, it's a trap! Angel's not on trail! Don't walk into the light!" At the last minute the Sirens' serenade spell was broken and the Hares were thwarted once again. St peter descended down out of the light and had a great Kodak moment of living up to his name



Having recovered from his brief moment of insanity, we continued on trail and checked the sane way which is *DOWN* hill (golden rule of checking there) and we popped out back on the road below having completed the hares' circle jerk, trail wrapped down to Hotel China, spurred the normal deviations up to the weather station nor the Nasiturd speciality of through the hotel (I wonder how many days it takes to get the smell of Hash B.O. out of the elevators every time we go through that place?) and continued on asphalt (again) as we dodged Learning Drivers that seem to be just as confused as I am on what side of the road you are supposed to drive on in Macau.

Just then St Peter cried outL "Look another light!" I wasn't going to be fooled by this drunken halfmind twice, but lo he was right, but this light was more of a glow just over the crest of the hill and had an unusual lone star beaming down out of the broad daylight." We sped up and upon topping the hill saw the source of the glow instantly as Betty's Boobs who had an immaculate glow (as harriettes tend to have when carrying future hashers). Up ahead we could hear little girl like giggling and Russian swearing...not knowing if Betty's Boobs had perfected her Ventriloquism skills we closed the gap and as we did we found BB swearing at Betty who was giggling like a school girl as being ever the romantic, was laying down his best game and committing foreplay on trail as he shared his water with BB in a way only a loving husband could.

St Peter autopiloted our way to catch up with these two and we finally caught up dug around in our pockets muttering something about we were supposed to have Frankincense and Myrrh but being hashers could only come up with pocket lint and half a cig.

Along with the merry couple (BB and Betty, not Cunter and St Peter) was Spit-or-Swallow who was thoroughly enjoying herself on trail, Captain Cocksucker apparently had either gone down with the ship or was already in the nearest Pub ensuring he kept his buzz going until he could get back to circle.



Thus we continued on, and we found out that the reason for the hash processional was that Betty's Boobs knew where B was (call it expectant hasher's intuition (and alliteration))...at this point "last mark" was called out as we realized there were no marks for the last 75 meters and we spotted flour on ahead which had an arrow coming towards it from the University. Thus blinded by the light part of the trail was missed, but being in such high spirits for actually doing true trail earlier, we pushed on and keeping with the prevailing theme, true trail stayed on pavement, briefly checking up the stairs to the Watertank before being YBF'd and then doing an 180 to go up to the old church on the hill, down the cobblestones and South once more to arrive at B, OTT via the back alley.

Most of the rest of the pack was already on in, in the end no hasher ended up doing the entire runner's trail as laid, but apparently the lure of ice cold golden nectar was too much.

Circle soon commenced after the local anklebiters used Scooterbabe's newly recreated Receding Hareline board as a wicked sweet bicycle path...Colonic Irritation became a (curiously) new fan of the large bamboo pole with considerable girth as he straddled it and was reluctant to get off of. He took some down downs for that but rest assured, Wan Cum put him in his place later in a private on on on.


Great and worthy down downs were doled out, The hares doing their fair share of drinking at least once or twice :). Backsliders were called out, Headgear and cans were brought into the circle and the owners were sent back out that much the drunker for their troubles. Dick Pastry admitted to yet a fourth tryst with her shower head in the day (insatiable she is and I say bravo! Acceptable Hash Behavior!!) Captain Cocksucker and 008 picked on each other, and Nasiturd did his "14 days till I get to heckle the new GM" jig. R&O drank for practicing his flour dousing skills on trail, and Beer Queer was honored for doing his 2nd hash and by his thirst for the golden nectar, I believe the boy is hooked!

Circle ended, social drinking ensued, and like the sparrows of Capistrano, the hashers migrated to the Irish Bar and a great night carried on as we watched snowy futbal on the TV and imbibed in the lagers and ales.

On - Hey at least this one wasn't 6 weeks late! - On
-Cunter Ass Thompson




And now for something completely different, 2 clean videos, 1 clean joke, and 1 slightly off color joke (but I love it!)


A good hash skill to have for sure:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kum2woR1Kqg (Safe for Work)


See, being an FRB can be fun! Weeeeeeeee!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YXRH50fvHWA (Safe for work)





An elderly man was driving his Buick down the freeway when his cell phone rang.

Answering, he heard his wife's voice urgently warning him, "Herman, I just heard on the news that there's a car going the wrong way on 280. Please be careful!"

"It's not just one car," said Herman. "It's hundreds of them!"







A pirate walks into a bar and it appears that he has a steering wheel to a ship in front of his trousers. In fact, it looks like he's got his manhood stuck through the center of it.
The bartender says, "Hey pirate! You've got your dick stuck in a steering wheel!"
The pirate says, "Arrrr, I know; it's driving me nuts!!"