Hash Scribe No. 600

Tubbie Twinkie of Hansel & Gretel fame, plus, yes she with the
Songkran ray gun, Cheap Drive, bring us run 600. Where are we?
Back in Lamia Valley of course. Boring. Somewhere special we
had hoped. A new virgin area? Perhaps the Seychelles. No. Same,
same. No doubt we’d be tripping over all the paper from earlier
runs. Everyone gathered under the swaying trees and greying
skies nursing their hangovers from the night before.
Feral arrived fashionably late hoping to avoid the 600 baht fee for
the run but well in time for the free beer and bar-b-que. His fellow
hashers had cunningly waited for him, so muttering away he
reluctantly opened his wallet to pay the fee.
The circle formed and Germany decided to hog the commentary,
“it vill be long and hard” cried hare ein (one), but enough of my
first marriage and off we went. Zaroom, into zee fatherland. Oh of
course that’s all except for one hasher who thought 600 was a
meter too far. Come back Comes First, all is forgotten.
Off we go, with your’s truly sucking the hind tit in last place. I’d
forgotten my iPod and with Bags not around, entertainment was
needed. If you ever walk with the walkers you’ll know exactly
what I mean. Suddenly in front of me were Where’s Wally &
Gromit. I tried my Sebastian Vettel passing movement but
Where’s Wally saw it coming and edged me towards the buffalo. I
decided to wait until the next corner. Engaging a more upbeat
tune on the iPod it was easy. It was now Gromit’s turn. She tried
idle banter but I was wise to that and made an easy passing
movement. Like a Samui Hamilton I picked them off one by one,
moving ever closer to the front and a chance to find one of Cheap
Drive’s lucky numbers. In the distance I spied Forbeskin but by
this time Tubbie’s trail had me well and truly *uc*ed.
Wimmin’ Power Do
Run 600. Sock it to
them Nina.
Arriving back at the circle site after a truly great virgin run
in a definitely shagged out Lamai Valley it was time to tuck
into the free Leos. By the way, apart from an incredibly
shitty homestead there wasn’t a single pice of paper to be
seen despite all my misgivings.
To my horror others had began to realise Leo was in the
piss truck and they soon ran out.
And then the heavens opened. Now, what you don’t know,
(as I am the one with inside information), Strolling Bones
had been praying to the God(s) (Brian Jones I believe)
every night for it to rain late Saturday afternoon, and lots of
it. Why? For the past couple of years the Piss truck under
the eagle eye of one Mister Bones and Comic Strip has run
at a profit. An event like 600 had to have a short circle to
cut consumption and as all us sodden buggers can attest
to, it worked.
We were not alone. From the four corners of the earth
hashers had flocked to Samui for the 600. Blue Lugs lent
his Gulfstream executive jet to bring seven of England
team players (all Carlisle United first team regulars) to
Samui from Rio. For those of you following the world cup
England’s shock defeat against Pattaya United in the group
stages ensured their early departure. Red Mullet sailed
from Nathon all the way to Hong Kong to pick up nine of
his Hong Kong hasher mates. And then there were the real
heroes who came from Hua Hin, Vietnam, Australia &
Songkhla. Thank you for coming to enjoy our very shitty
weather.
Big Yin, our leader and hero, called the circle to order and apart
from Corkscrew all thought the trail top notch, which it was.
Corkscrew was naturally iced, hoping for a free down, down. Silly
bugger had forgotten that the beer was free.
Cleavage photo with Mullet winning the male section.
Feral, Corkscrew, Mullet and the usual heroes ended up on the ice from our
Samui contingent. Fagash didn’t as she’d pissed off with her beau.
Tinkerbell brought his Hua Hin criminals into the circle for their crimes.
Softcock from Songkhla did the same for his crew.
And then one of our visitors (from either Hua Hin or Songkhla) ended up on the
ice for buying his partner new shoes earlier in the day. A daft visitor did the trail
in flip flops. God knows why.
Now I have a story about shoes. Bin Runnin’ (my missis) on her third run in Accra
in 1997 wore new shoes. Why? Well I’d bought them in Bangkok and knew the
dastardly penalties of wearing new shoes on the hash. So I suggested she wear
them. And if she liked them I’d buy her them next time we were in Bangkok.
Just in case you are wondering, we have similar shoe sizes. She had a down,
down and I ended up on the ice as hash shit being the loving husband I am.
(Just filling space in case you are wondering).
Back to the circle. The water started falling again and Wee Yin suggested to Big
Yin that he wrap it up, which he did.
Now to thanks for 600. Big Yin, Little Yin for all your work making it happen.
Tubbie for doing a shit hot trail that must have taken lots and lots of effort. Cheap
Ride too. Blue Lugs for lending his bar for the food and after event venue.
Oh last thought on the T-shirts……………………………..!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?????????? An
agreement amongst all the males.
!