Hash 464 & T8 Hash #7 : 19.4.08 : GM Handover Hash : Irish Bar

Hares: Nasiturd & Betty              Scribe: Cunter Ass Thompson

"You thought it was going to be a Hand(over) Job, you didn't know it was going to be sloppy wet and a blow(job) of a Hash!"


The sun rose on Saturday the 19th, or rather it didn't quite rise...the hungover hash raised it's weary head from it's pillow to see a half lit room that is usually full a blaze with the mid-afternoon Saturday sun when the usual hasher wakes up, instead they saw some rain outside a little bit of a breeze. The pack chuckled to themselves "haha, that'll teach them to prelay trail" as they rolled back over asleep. But their hungover slumber was rudely awakened yet again, this time by an all Hands Hash SMS*! For you see that breeze and the rain had decided to make it the real thing and Typhoon Nalgene decided to come breeze past Macau just like a hasher is drawn to the beer display in Park N' Shop...it just couldn't stay away.

(*At least for those who didn't turn off their phones, but this combined with CTM's screw up of the phone lines provided great down down fodder later)

So in the blink of an eye, SGM said "Signal 8 will be raised...right...about...NOW" and so the GM sent out the word via SMS and Email, and the TMH3 T8 hash was convened for the 7th time ever.
For yours truly, I was amazed that my pants were already soaked and I hadn't even stepped outside, and then I realized that I was so excited to finally getting to go on a TMH3 T8 Hash that I had peed myself...I changed my Underoos and hopped down to the street, shooting out of the apartment building door in tank top and shorts and backpack and already zigging and zagging around the umbrella-ed and panchoed with miserable expressions on the faces...I was loving it already! And then I saw the either there were a lot of people that wanted to take a taxi to the hash, or there was simply a biblical mass exodus from the island of Macau. I said to myself, well this will not do! and sprinting for the middle bridge and seeing no police roadblock yet, quickened my pace...there's no way I'm missing a T8 hash!

As I crested the apex of the bridge I was thinking to myself..hmmm, it's a tad breezy and moist, just then I heard a car horn behind my honking the old "Shave and a Haircut rythym" and I thought to myself I'm not turning around as I don't know anyone who would be out driving and know that tune, but then again maybe it's the same tune as an old Macau folksong you know "Hey, you, dumb, Guilo...f*ck off". Anyways this deep thought was interrupted by the source of the honking, a taxi, pulling up to keep pace with me as we went down the slope and pop his door open and waved me in...I slung my backpack in, took a couple more strides to catch back up to the door and then hopped in and got taken all the way to Crown by a taxidriver who made me then question my action of hopping in a cab brave enough to drive over the bridge as he proceded to drive 50km down the road approaching the Crown Traffic Circle and I suddenly began to question the tread on said automobile. Fortunately, the Macau taxi drivers are pros and in a split second I was out the door and continuning running towards Irish Bar.

As I zigged and zagged the masses looking quite unhappy on the sidewalks I passed a couple of ladies with an umbrella in hand, but chosing not to use it, instead just hold it in their hand undeployed. As I passed them I heard one of the two soaked ladies call out "Cunter!" and it turned out to be Hooker No Sing and friend...Being just 1.5 blocks from Irish I said "great! You're coming to the hash!" and the response was something about the weather, and alignment of the planets being wrong, and alas they couldn't come out running...seeing how they were already out and wet, I was a little dumbfounded, but bid them good luck on their journey and headed on to the Irish.

Thanks to my daring conveyence driver, I was early to the hash (first time for me I think), well I should take that back, Typhoon Neoprene was definitely already here






I glanced down for a moment and when I looked back up I saw Nasiturd followed closely by Scooterbabe, Nasi looking like he was just strolling out of the Irish from last night (which would be quite a feat considering the storm doors were down)



Soon Roger and Out, St Peter, Betty (missed the bus), Betty's Boobs (didn't miss the bus), Shithouse, and even Bush Pussy all showed up for this double historical hash event.



Then around the corner came a sight that has been missing from the TMH3 for quite sometime, The Captain. So now we know what it takes to get the captain out to the hash - an act of God. Of course this meant obligatory group pics, if nothing else than to provide a record for the police of who got swept away in the typhoon





(Not to be confused with Hasher Spit Or Swallow, Cunter does not swallow when it comes Macau Rain Water)

Meanwhile, our fearless hares were figuring out how to operate the Plumber's Chalk bottle and determing how long flour will last in this weather before becoming soup.



Note the lovely blue dallops!

Since this was a live hare (bravo!) as T8 hashes understandably tend to be, we told the hares we'd give them 10, and realized at 12 minutes past that we were in serious danger of not finding any trail and we promptly took off on trail with extra vigor upon the thought of losing trail.

We found true trail north of The Irish Bar, up the (now muddy) slope to a check up above where we promptly lost trail...true trail ended up being around right and up the hill and was found by a persistent Roger & Out and Captian. The rest of the pack scrambled up the muddy slope in the shortest possible route. We popped out up top and St Peter did a fantastic job of finding the disappearing marks on up through the apartment complex, pass the Triad apartments and up onto the loop trail where true trail led all the way around the loop to the front of the hill where we came down the steps just north of the Crown. We closed in on the traffic circle and found last mark on the NW corner of the circle and the FRBs went the full block down towards home as they wagered a guess on which way trail went. Finding no trail, last mark was called and the group began looking on the Crown side of the traffic circle when out of their secret hiding place came the hares, make a mad dash for home.

I was standing behind The Captain and once my eyes saw the flash of paniced hares, the lungs bellowed out the second sweetest words in the hash (the first being a tie between "Beer Check" and "On Home" of course!) of "On Hare!" Captain did what Captain does best and I saw the standing rain water foam at his feet as sped in hot pursuit...I couldn't keep up with him as he ran down the middle of the two lanes of the road as he vectored in on them. The Hares didn't have a chance and after Captain snared them, the rest of the pack then snared them as well. But a tip of the hat to the hares for some Typhoon hash live haring.

We all came On In back to the Irish Bar's stoop where the lovely Betty's Boobs was waiting for us with the golden nectar



The hashers who had been in the Typhoon Rain for the last 45 minuts suddenly became hydraphobic and tried to huddle under the awning of the Irish Bar before the beloved owner of the Irish Bar (who was overseeing the renovation construction), invited us in, but much to Bush Pussy's disappointment we said "Nay! We like it wet and sloppy!" and we opted to stay outside




(when you use the flash, it makes it look like a T10 :D )

With the trail being over, note the smile on the outgoing GM and the look of "what did I get myself into" on the incoming GM's face :)


Both GMs moved the circle underneath the closeby cement awning and the pack formed the tightest TMH3 circle of the year




Bush Pussy and Scooterbabe took the honor of being the Hash Armour for the day.


They took turns alternating pouring beer in of and bailing rainwater out of the down downs.

Roger and Out sported the American Collegiate look in hopes of picking up a passing Co-Ed



When that didn't work he tried showing off his surfing in the typhoon impression



Just then before the circle started a very angry and very wet Pubic Plucker and 008 arrived from Hac Sa beach where they were getting ready for the regularly scheduled hash (the GMs already declined the notion of a double header hash earlier). Having not had her cellphone on, Pubic Plucker did not get the T8 Hash SMS and thus the incensedness. Luckily it was nothing several beers couldn't fix and hash honor down downs were given to her for braving the weather and traveling all the way down there.

Circle finally started and various down downs were given, concerning the hare snaring, the trail setting, and pack running.

Honor down down was given to Bush Pussy for hashing Jesus Style in Sandals (with Blue Nail Polish)




As the Typhoon was continuing to escalate, It was decided to expediate circle to the important business of the day...and so the handing over commenced:

Nasiturd transmitted all his GM knowledge through mental mind meld with Betty



And Nasiturd then promptly drank to purge his memory of the horrors of being GM

And then the Baptizing began, first the incoming Grand Master:




and then the newly empowered GM already began to abuse his power and called in the now Ex-GM (which of course is acceptible hash behavior!)"






And finally the Grand Matress had to be indocinerated as well!






By that point, Typhoon Norbert was continuing to crank up the intensity so we decided to close circle as the beer coolers were being blown across the parking lot as were dumpsters sailing down the street





The Hash ended and all the parties went their separate way and I went on to play a rousing game of dodge-the-police-blockade-to-get-back-across-the-bridge.

So that's my version of the story and I'm sticking to it....

On - Can't wait for the next TMH3 T8 hash, I have my waterwings all set! - On
-Cunter Ass Thompson