Hash 473 : 21.6.08 : Shitty trails, shitty trails... : Nga Tim's, Coloane

Hares: Colonic Irritation & Wan Cum              Scribe: Nancy Boy

Wed been a bunch of drips all month with all the wet weather, so the first sunny day of June just had to produce a bigger turnout, and it did. Even Bettys Boobs had her own big turnout only 3 weeks after giving birth. They breed em tough in Russia. Representing South Asia, Cunter Ass Gandhi was back from his Indian taxi-driving course, full of wonder and culture, the latter having left him equally full of shit.


Talking of nether regions, Colonic Irritation and Wan Cum had stepped in at the last moment to leave a trail for us, so God was in his heaven and all was well with the world.

The sea wall across from Nga Tims has witnessed many a fine hash gathering, but we sat there anyway, soaking up the sunshine and gazing wistfully at the expanse of virgin territory on Hengquin Island. Once we had got aroused, we wandered out of Coloane via the boatyards to the road where a split led the walkers to a family gathering at the zoo and treated the runners to an inspirational tour of the Concordia Estate, Macaus throbbing industrial heartland, which even included some virgin road by the cement factory jetty. Often overlooked, Concordia has its own culture too, the crinkly-tin fences and burgeoning scrub providing shelter to the local dogs, who now got very excited about being visited by the hash and decided to join in the fun, chasing some of us halfway around the estate.

The culture in Cunter Ass bowels had been simmering away since before we started, and now came to the boil, so for only the second time in his career Nancy Boy felt the rare thrill of squirting past him. Admittedly the first time was due to Cunter Ass kidney failure, but Nancy Boys not proud and any chance for a bit of glory is always appreciated. Why are they called the runs when anything longer than a race to the toilet has to be undertaken with careful deliberation? Maybe thats what inspired the hash hymn Shitty Trail?

Enough of that crap. We got to the zoo at about the same time as the walkers and the dogs, and had just joined in chatting to our friends when someone found some flour and we ended up evacuating through the rear entry before starting a movement on the stairs, which seem to get longer and harder every time. The last time we saw Cunter he was hanging around to help some of the walkers to cross the stream behind the zoo, and presumably to take advantage of some privacy and some clean water.

There was consternation on the stairs where the hares had set a check, realised that there was nowhere to go to set a check-back, and then attempted to disguise it as a very large dab of flour. We werent fooled though: ten minutes later we were back on trail and reached the next check at the top to find Scooter Babe and Nasiturd already there, with Roger & Out having kindly solved it.

We strolled along the hikers trail discussing the unfamiliar fine weather and the finer points of dysentry until we were interrupted by the next check above the Estrada Militar. Roger & Out seems to have a thing about going down, and this was no exception. Oblivious to the cries of Flour he scurried on down the steps till he could go no further, and then we had the pleasure of hearing him come all the way back up again. Meanwhile, we crossed the road at the arboretum and carried on to another check at the lookout to which Scooter Babe had lovingly dragged the eskie for a beer stop when the Taichung Hash came to visit.

The trail dribbled on down from there to the road by the climbing wall, where we found Betty and his Boobs somehow already there, lounging about waiting to urge us on. We duly felt the urge, then ran down the lower part of the Estrada Militar past the fly-tipping site to the police academy, where they train Macaus finest to catch people who do naughty things like fly-tipping. Pubic Plucker and Dick Pastry were there, ignoring the traffic and deeply engrossed in looking down a hole in the road. Maybe Cunter Ass had somehow got there and was squatting at the bottom.

Back at Nga Tims, Cunter seemed well again as he slipped into his accustomed role of choirboy. Maybe the hole in the road had helped to clear any blockages. Maid in Macau as ever kept the beer flowing and even Tittyana turned up with a new beau in tow, both very flushed and very wet: apparently theyd been doing something in the water. I hope it wasnt at the back of the zoo. After the circle we had a delicious dinner at Nga Tims and then we went home and then we went out again.

On on

Nancy Boy


Paddy's pregnant sister was in a terrible car accident and went into a deep coma. After being in the coma for nearly six months, she wakes up and sees that she is no longer pregnant. Frantically, she asks the doctor about her baby.

The doctor replies, 'Ma'am, you had twins.... a boy and a girl. The babies are fine, however, they were poorly at birth and had to be christened immediately so your brother Paddy came in and named them.

The woman thinks to herself, ' Oh suffering Jesus, no, not me brother, he's a fecking clueless idiot...
Expecting the worst, she asks the doctor,' Well, what's my daughter's name?'

'Denise' says the doctor. The new mother is somewhat relieved, 'Wow, that's a beautiful name, I guess I was wrong about my brother', she thought....'I really like Denise'.


Then she asks, 'What's the boy's name?'

The doctor replies 'Denephew'.


A driver is stuck in a traffic jam going into Central London. Nothing is moving north or south.

Suddenly a man knocks on his window.

The driver rolls down his window and asks, 'What happened, what's the hold up?'

'Terrorists have kidnapped Gordon Brown. They are asking for a £10 million ransom. Otherwise, they are going to douse
him with petrol and set him on fire. We are going from car to car, taking up a collection.'

The driver asks, 'How much is everyone giving?'

'About a gallon