Run No. 942
Date: Friday 13 October 2000
Where: Lower Seletar Reservoir Park - you know - the Seletar Dam place
Hares: Chastity Belt and King Leer
Returnees: 6 (And how did Molester get in there again? - Ed.)
The unfortunate spate of virus outbreaks in Singapore has not left the hash unscathed - except the virus infecting us is far more unpleasant. Yes - I'm talking about the sudden outbreak of Velcro Syndrome. Spreading like wildfire, it is. Just before the start of the run I was nearly caught in a passion sandwich as Titmouse whimsically hid behind a van to pounce, giggling like a besotted schoolboy, on Bo Peep as she walked past - I was putting my bag in the van at the time and nearly became an unwilling participant in a bout of troilism. (Look it up if you're innocent enough not to know what that means.) As you can imagine, I was heartily relieved to leap off on Chastity Belt's birthday run.
And what a lovely run it was, reminiscent of the old days, which is right and proper considering the experience these Old Farts have. (Sorry, CB, you're an honorary Old Fart because of the geriatric company you hang around with.) I was feeling pretty lethargic but the well-laid run ensured that back markers didn't lose touch, and the countryside was a delight - the woodland paths, rustic temples, mangrove swamps and grassland trails providing great scenery. I particularly liked the thoughtful way the hares had even carpeted part of the trail. But what was Barbarian up to? I kept bumping into him right up to the very end of the run. Was he deliberately going in the wrong direction? Had his homing chip blown a circuit? And what's going on between Ripper and Kinky Winky? Why are they always so caught up in gossip these days that I keep passing them? Another Velcro pair in the making? (You're going to suffer for that one - Ed.)
I ran in with Pick Up - which is pretty good as she's a really steady runner these days. But we were passed at the last minute by Kiosk Loon, who broke into a veritable sprint - amazing sight I can tell you - at the sight of the beer wagon..
Poor Cro was looking like a bookend in search of a partner at the run site, Vel being away. Boo tried to help by sliding into the vacant position, but obviously didn't cut the mustard as far as Slocum was concerned. Sorry, Boo - you're just not as pretty as Jack Off. Or maybe you're using the wrong after shave.
It was a pretty public run site, and one delight for me was observing the undressing/washing/dressing manoeuvres around the hash orphans (e.g. - carless) gathering place, which is at the car of the hospitable and altruistic - and soon to be missed - Falsies and Armadildo combo. But Indianus wasn't deft enough to deny the multitude a flash of her famous G-string. If you missed it, I'm sure she'll oblige with a private viewing. Desperation did something very adroit to change her bra, involving a towel, a sarong, and the massed bands of the Royal Marines, and Falsies deftly replaced her knickers while knitting a sweater and writing a history of Western Civilization. (Now you're just being silly - Ed.) Look - it's a literary device called hyperbole - and if it works for Shakespeare it should work for me. (I think you're losing your audience - Ed.) OK. Back to the smut.
I was so entranced by the stripping high jinks that I started rooting around in my bag for my knickers in distracted fashion - only find that the black pair I picked up looked somewhat unfamiliar. As did everything else in the bag. Oops! - I was rummaging through Indy's unmentionables by mistake. (Come off it! You were just going through her rucksack trying to pinch the Fuck Me shoes, weren't you? - Ed.) An uncharitable remark. The shoes are rightfully mine. And she was wearing the Don't-Bother-I'm-a-Dyke ones, anyway. (For heaven's sake, get on with the circle report - Ed.) Oh, all right.
Ring Pull called the hares in for the vote of the throng. Not surprisingly, it was voted a Good Run by one and all. At this stage, a kitten that had been lurking around the area being fed prawn crackers by kindly souls such as Too Good - who earned a minatory comment from Swanky Poo: "Cats don't digest carbohydrates!" - wandered into the circle to a barrage of inevitable pussy comments. Predictable? Oh, yes. More of the pussy - and the Pussy - later.
The on-on was announced at Seletar Seafood, an old hash haunt that we haven't been banned from for some reason.
Chastity Belt did his birthday down-down in good style, but, sorry, mate, you don't get away with that "27 again!" crap anymore.
The virgins invited to do their thing were Vong, Quek, Yeo, and Jeremy and Andie Johnson. Have a look at that surname again. Yes, this couple are the son and daughter-in-law of our very own Wickless. Ring Pull pointed out that his son is 29 and his newly born daughter is 8 days old. This led to the usual barracking about being a dirty old man, to which a prompt Diskless response was: "If you bastards can't get it up it's your problem." Ring Pull also highlighted the fact that both his daughters have names ending with -ian, showing that the guy has ego problems. (Maybe it just helps him to remember his own name after a night on the hash - Ed.)
Visitors were from Sydney, a US submarine, and the Sunday Hash. Steve, Dan, Greg, Peter and Itchy Balls (Guess which one is from the Sunday Hash? - Ed.) were invited to partake of the amber nectar. And, in a spirit of hash camaraderie, Ring Pull offered to scratch the offending dangly bits of the Sunday hasher, but spoilsport hubby Free Willy raised objections.
We had a whole raft of returnees, comprising Hollow Balls (another member of the Ball family), Pigtail, Mongrel, Flakey, Airborne and Molester. How he managed to sneak in again is anyone's guess. Flakey put up such a poor showing in his down-downing that Ring Pull suggested the reason he survived his drain incident is because he can't swallow. To which Coo Chi Coo suggested to Ring Pull that the reason she's survived is that she can - but I don't think she heard that. Not that I understood what he was suggesting, anyway….
The Hare Whip was King Leer. He had a soft porn wannabe magazine in hand (Nothing else I hope? - Ed.) and called in Coo Chi Coo, Bagels, Kiasu Lung and Slocum. Which one, he asked the crowd, was associated with the mag? Was it the dirty little bastard? (Too obvious - Ed.) The Kinky Chinky? The Scotsman? ("No - too mean to buy a magazine!" was the cry.) No. It was the dark horse, Slocum, because KL quoted a breathless fan letter to the mag signed Jack Off. Difficult to follow, I know. You had to be there.
Mystery Whip Doggie Style also depended on the media for her charge. She had found a article in the Straits Times reporting on a new Wonderbra that lets you select the amount of cleavage you want to display. (Aforementioned dirty little bastard Coo Chi Coo -: "Yes, I came across the newspaper article as well." - Geddit? Oh, never mind.) Who resembled the cleavage ad most? Ring Pull got the accolade.
Mystery Mystery Whip, Molester, rambled on about foot and mouth disease and called out a likely crew - Boo, Indy, Sara Lee, and Falsies - for the multitude to select a likely carrier. Indy got it for having foot-in-mouth disease. Well, that's the way I heard it.
Boo gave the Prick to Molester for arrant short cutting (What's wrong with that? - Ed.) and Sara Lee broke in on the act to give him a porn tape to aid his enjoyment of the device. Actually, it was a tape of the Interhash - Ring Pull wants it as well, but not, she says, after Molester. " It'll be all sticky."
Boo also presented the Pussy with the aid of the real life pussy who meowed its way into the circle. Apparently Airborne and Chastity Belt had been overheard in an exchange over the live pussy. "It belongs to everybody," intoned the politically-correct Airborne. "It belong to the highest bidder," responded the politically-so-incorrect-he's-off-the-planet Chastity Belt. Anyway, the pussy decided on the identity of the recipient by cosying up to Airborne, thus proving that cats are as stupid as I've always thought they are.
AOB - Murkily called in three "young ladies" - irony rules! - Orion Crotch, Loose Exchange and Hand Job as they were displaying a total disregard for a well-marked trail and going in the wrong direction right at the end of the run. Daft enough in itself, but they were trying to point everyone else in the wrong direction as well.
Poor old Gecko thought he'd got away with it, but no such luck - Chastity Belt, with typical hash tact and generosity of spirit dragged him in and drew everyone's attention to the refurbished barnet. (More Cockney rhyming slang for the uninitiated out there. Barnet Fair = hair.) Grecian 2000 does wonders these days.
After a fruitless call for more AOB - Coo Chi Coo was obviously a bit short (Ho ho! - Ed.) on the inspirational front this week - it was off to the on-on. Well done, hares, for a super run and lots of fun at Seletar Seafood. I assume Indy went on-on-on but I don't know if she had anything thrown at her this week.
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