RUN # 96:                    The “River of Shit” Run - April 5, 2004
HARES:                       Sword Swallower & Pucker Boy
BOX:                            Dan Dan Joeten
ON HOME:                  San Pedro Chapel
CASUALTIES:
RATING:                     ¶¶¶
DLMMM:                     0

Full Moon stocks fell dramatically in April on word that attendance had dropped to only 13, a 74 percent decrease from March.  Hash Cash Dogleg found himself with far too much inventory, but fortunately, two cases of World Select had been donated by Titty Sticker’s friend Nathan, who wanted the Hash to buy Budweiser products.  Ciega had looked that gift horse right in the fucking mouth the previous Saturday, and had told Titty Stickers “no bottles on the Hash!”  Dogleg was a bit more flexible, and snatched them up for the Full Moon.  And they were good – damn good!

Nevertheless, Dogleg didn’t like the way the numbers were working out, and held out for a loooong time at the BOG for more hounds to turn up.  Sword Swallower had caught profit-fever too, and was selling SH3 whistles at rock-bottom, blowout prices.  But after a while, the crowd began to get antsy, even to the point of rudeness.  So Tyrant Red Sasquatch cut Dogleg off, and announced the Box to be the backside of Joeten in Dan Dan, and there they headed.

At the box it was observed that Chicken Little Dick was missing, which was unusual because there were no porno shops or Chinese whore houses on the way, but after waiting a full 2 minutes for him to turn up, the hares said “fuck him” and moved the pack into the Box, which was back behind the store.  Special instructions included newspaper on-ons that looked just like roadside garbage, and flour, and then the hares were off and straight into the beer truck.  With no FNG’s to ‘splain anything to, Red Sasquatch was free to lie to the crowd about why his hair had been shaven off, and how many sweaters he had been able to knit with it for Red Squirrel and her spawn.

After the ten minutes had passed, the crowd left the box and immediately got into a clusterfuck in the traffic along Chalan Msgr. Guerrero, where CLD had re-appeared and was leading everyone off in the wrong direction.  Crackerjack finally found trail going up the back road into Kannat Tabla, just in front of the former Nino’s Pizza restaurant, and then past all the stray dogs and children.  It didn’t take long before the trail detoured into a river of shit.  No, really, it was a literal river of shit: human shit, dog shit, pig shit, chicken shit, and I’m pretty sure there was goat shit in there, too.  Not to mention piss.  Now, seeing how this ravine flash-floods and washes the whole village clean at least twice a year, one has to wonder how there can be so many outhouses and outdoor kitchens right along its banks, but there they were, and there was a stinky trickle coming from each shack.  Dogleg was truly in his element, and was heard to cry out:  “Now this is REAL shiggy!”

Fortunately, after only about a quarter of a mile, the predominant waste type in the ravine shifted from liquid to solid, making it particularly difficult to find the exit trail, which had been marked with pieces of newspaper stuck to trees, in and among the discarded underwear, diapers, and other pieces of newspaper stuck to trees.  Ciega was seen to be wallowing gleefully in her element, and had to be coaxed out onto the Kannat Tabla road by the former FRBs, who were returning from an on-back at the Japanese cannon.  A smaller group consisting of Crackerjack, Wiener von Brown and his father, had made the correct choice and run down the road, past the CMS quarry to true trail, which entered the boonies and meandered through an ironwood forest following the lower edge of the quarry.  This was an unusual forest in that it was nothing but ironwood trees, with an untrammeled floor of pure pine needles.  Untrammeled, that is, until the hares had come through and thoughtlessly littered it with more of those newspaper on-ons.  The rear of the pack bunched up in here, stuck behind Dogleg and Phlegm Phatale, who was not used to hill running after more than a year and a half of maternity absence.  Mr. Happy Pockets, generic White Boy and Red Sasquatch were finally able to pass the two right about where the trail emerged onto the open edge of the cliff top.  At one point, the trail ran right up to the very edge of the abyss, where it was reported that Crackerjack had crawled, whimpering, through the dense brush a few feet away to avoid the barren cliff top.  Trail made an unmarked turn back into the boonies at this point, which sent several unfortunate hounds down to the next ledge below, causing even more whimpering.

It is often said that some parts of the island are better as full moon runs, and this was no exception.  In the muted beams of our headlamps, much of the area we entered appeared as a lush, tropical paradise of ferns, moss-covered rocks, and Tarzan vines.  In daylight, however, we know from experience that this entire area is, in fact, a hellish shit-hole.

Trail continued through this jungle, up and down, around rock outcrops, past well-worn trail intersections, until we had no idea where we were.  At one point, the rear of the pack finally caught up to WVB and his Dad, and caught a glimpse of the back side of the hare’s apartments at San Pedro chapel, but trail took us back down onto the Korean farm road below there, and down towards the shooting range.  Many of the hounds were bitterly disappointed at this point, having passed the only obvious on-home and not knowing where else they could possibly be going.  The rear of the pack grouped around WVB and his Dad, and started bitching like bunch of Kansas City faggots.

But you should have heard them bitch when they got to the on-home!  It turns out, the on home had been at San Pedro, but the hares had been hiding, forcing us to go another mile around the Kannat Tabla road to get there.  Ha, ha.  Fuck the hares.  The whining did not last long, though, because the chili was ready, and the hot dogs were already cooking.  Dogleg got all bitchy with Ciega because he had just come in, and did not want to do a vehicle run yet.  Fortunately, Sword Swallower took her back to the cars with a few other people, for unbeknownst to Dogleg, Ciega had only wanted to go back so that she could retrieve the new vessel she had bought for the Full Moon Hash.  Honor!

Being as there was so much good food to eat, and so many varieties of beer to sample, it took a while for the Tyrant and RA to do anything about getting religion started.  A friend of Red Sasquatch wandered over for a while, after asking Dogleg what was going on, while Dogleg was pissing on the tires of his truck.  Don’t people have any manners anymore?  But religion finally got started, and it was your classic, laid-back Full Moon religion.  In other words, not too much happened, but everyone enjoyed themselves.  There was some discussion about Dogleg’s numbers on how many runs everyone had set during the year.  Crackerjack claimed she had set more runs than anyone, but what she didn’t make clear was that she was including no-weenie runs, too, which most people don’t count.  MHP and WVB started bickering about co-haring, since both were in the running for most (worst) trails set in HY 2004.  CLD tried (unsuccessfully) to con the Hares out of a rusted and bent Japanese rifle, and then introduced his new version of the Crackerjack song, which he had been “writing” in his car at the box, and of course was focused entirely on the size of her, um, you know, titties?  Bazongas?  Hooters?  “How the fuck does it stay on?”

It being a school night and all, the vessel was retired after everyone had been up for at least one down-down, and after the usual formalities, everyone went home.

The end.

Saipan Full Moon Hash House Harriers meets on or around the Full Moon every month.  Date, Time, and the Location of the Box are announced at the preceding Saturday Hash, or call Ciega at 322-9464, or Dog Leg at 288-4794.  U.S. $10.00

SFMH3  MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT:                                Red Sasquatch
RA:                                          Crackerjack
AAAARA:                               OPEN
FIRE MASTER                       OPEN
HASH CASH                          Dog Leg
TRAIL MASTER                     ???
HASH SCRIBE                       Mr. Whitey

SFMH3  RECEDING HARE LINE...
FM 97             5/5       Crackerjack (Wed.)
FM 98             6/2       Wiener Von Brown (Wed.)
FM 99             7/2       OPEN (Friday?)
FM 100/1028  7/31     MHP & R. Sasquatch Sat. Blue Moon!
FM 101           8/30     OPEN (Monday)
FM 102           9/28     OPEN (Tuesday)
FM 103           10/28   OPEN (Thursday)