SAIPAN
HASH TRASH
issues 1030 -
1039
RUN #1039 The “Dogleg
Betrayed!” Run
HARES: Dogleg, Maxcheesemo,
Crackerjack
BOX: Wireless
(Lynn Knight’s driveway)
ON HOME: Aqua resort beach
CASUALTIES: Banger
RUN: ¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶!
RELIGION: ¶¶¶
DLMM Rating: 7
CLDPDMMM: 3,500
It
was the day of the second best run of 2004 – yes, it was the day that Dogleg
returned to setting trail, after not being a hare for over 7 months! Dogleg (with Maxcheesemo as cohare), why did
you wait so long to grace us with your masterful trail setting abilities? Please do not make us wait so long
again! A large crowd of adoring fans
had gathered at the BOG, eagerly awaiting directions to the Box, which were
delivered after the requisite 25 minute wait:
the Box would be the hill above Lynn Knight’s house. Yes, that’s right Droolbag – the same spot
where the Full Moon on-home was a few weeks ago! You got it! Oh, how they
trembled in anticipation!
The
Box was placed in Lynn Knight’s driveway, so the hounds would not be able to
see the masterful sleight-of-hand that Dogleg (and Maxcheesemo) had
planned. Not wanting a single hound to
miss out on this once-in-a-lifetime trail, Dogleg had advised Shit Pyle that he
should run the trail, rather than drive the beer truck. This allowed Dogleg to pull off the first
part of his masterful plan: his
apparent magnanimity was the excuse for putting cohare Maxcheesemo behind the
wheel of the beer truck, making it look as if Dogleg was going to set trail
live!
The
second part of Dogleg’s masterful strategy was the best: Upon leaving the box, and setting true trail
on foot towards Mt. Susu, Dogleg met up with mystery cohare Crackerjack,
whereupon he jumped into the back seat of her 4Runner and they drove back past
the box, without being noticed by the hounds!
Wait
a minute, you say, why was Trail Master Dogleg riding in a truck? Hasn’t he always said that trail should be
run live, and that getting caught is part of the fun? You are correct! He has
said that. But unfortunately, this time
his cohares just weren’t up for it, but Dogleg still cared. He cared about the rest of you, who know how
much more fun it is to run a trail that you believe has been set
live! So he went to all of that
trouble, just for you! Isn’t Dogleg the
greatest??
Upon
breaking the Box, the pack was split.
Not a single one of them suspected that Dogleg might have used Crackerjack’s
Full Moon trail from two weeks before, so everyone headed in different
directions. Why would they suspect
that? Doesn’t Dogleg always set his
own, unique trail creations? Usually,
yes. But this time, Dogleg saw a need
to encourage a Hash woman, to prop her up a little, so to speak. He did this by selecting Crackerjack’s trail. He did this to make her feel just a little
bit better about herself. Isn’t Dogleg
the greatest???
Yes,
trail followed Crackerjack’s recent Full Moon trail down towards Tanapag, while
many of the disbelieving hounds ran in all other directions, including Haj
Chicken Little Dick, who ran back towards Capitol Hill, and Droolbag, who
headed for the top of Mt. Susu for some unknown reason. Fortunately, the rest of the pack has
learned not to follow him. The trail
itself was not bad, considering it had been originally been set by Crackerjack. Of course, it needed a little work here and
there – a little cutting with Dogleg’s machete. But not too much, just enough to bring out the natural beauty of
the swordgrass hillsides, the babbling brooks and waterfalls, slippery slopes
and ironwood meadows. Yes, Dogleg’s
masterful machete strokes brought Crackerjack’s trail just a few notches short
of perfection. Never mind the fact that
Crackerjack and Maxcheesemo had to be constantly reminded by Dogleg to keep
their distance while swinging the machete – it was just that they were a little
unfamiliar with the most efficient use of such an implement. Hey, nobody got hurt! Isn’t Dogleg the greatest???
Towards
the bottom of Crackerjack’s trail, Dogleg had decided her ego had been reinforced
just enough to withstand indulging in a little of his own mastery, so he took
the trail off toward the north, and onto the amazing 950th trail,
which was still very nice, even if it was run backwards this time. Hydrologic conditions were just right for
this trail, and the pack was treated to a true babbling brook, which ended in a
precipice that was easily negotiated thanks to the well-marked trail to the
left. Unfortunately, a few hounds
(Droolbag and Donkey Dick) chose to scale the vertical waterfall anyway, and
even more unfortunately, Kramden had chosen to advise Banger that she would be
better off waiting at the top of the waterfall for the hares to come get
her! God Damn you, Kramden!!!! Upon his arrival at the On-home, Kramden
related this tale to Dogleg, who was amazed he would have given such advice,
with so much daylight left and being so close to the end of the boonies! So Dogleg sent Crackerjack and Maxcheesemo
out to bring her in. Isn’t Dogleg the
greatest???
Following
the waterfall, the trail came out at the back of the big blue water tank above
Tanapag, but re-entered the boonies after a very short run down the road. A lesser hare would have finished trail by
running down the road, and then perhaps down the beach to his/her choice of
on-homes. But not Dogleg! Using his vast mental library of known
trails and Hash terrain, Dogleg masterfully took the pack back into the
boonies, across the full-flowing Achugao stream, and up into the limestone
forest for a last bit of glorious boonies before exiting onto a large cattle
pasture, which then led past a doorless outhouse (where Dogleg had accidentally
interrupted some poor old schmuck’s bowel movement), across Middle Road, and
down to the beach, where the on-home was located by the side of Aqua
Resort. Dogleg’s cohare Maxcheesemo was
busy picking up trash at the On-home, so that it would be really nice for the
rest of the hounds. Dogleg did not
interfere – he wanted Maxcheesemo to be able to be given at least some
credit for doing something nice for the run!
That is, besides putting down most of the flour – Good Boy, Maxcheesemo! Good Boy!
Isn’t Dogleg the greatest???
The first hounds in were Cold
Shower, Puppy Porn, and Spanky, having finished trail in less than 30 minutes,
thanks to the masterful cutting effort by Dogleg. Yes sir, Dogleg knows how to treat the FRBs! After all, he himself was one of them for
many years! Of course, these days
Dogleg holds back a little, so that others can be FRB and share in the
glory. Dogleg’s not one for hogging all
of the fun, you know! The rest of the
pack came in about as expected, except for Banger. Despite the constant hounding from CLD, Dogleg remained steadfast
in his conviction that Banger could finish trail on her own. He was confident that she would be able to
reach deep inside herself, to some hidden source of strength (or the space
between her boobs) and find the inner strength she needed to finish trail. Until, that is, Kramden’s revelation of his
meddling. God Damn you again,
Kramden!!! Dogleg organized a vehicle
run to depart at the same time he dispatched Maxcheesemo and Crackerjack to
find Banger. Despite being dangerously
overloaded, Dogleg allowed a few more people to go along than should have been
permitted, given the design load capacity of the Doglegmobile, and given his
experience with broken leaf springs on the previous Doglegmobile. Isn’t Dogleg the greatest???
Upon his return, Dogleg learned
that Banger had in fact been able to finish trail on her own, with a little
help from Pervert Hoover. Even without
a flashlight, as common sense would have dicated in her case. See?
Dogleg knew he was right!
However, his cohares were still out looking for her, so Dogleg departed
immediately to retrieve them, so they could get back to the On-home and enjoy
some cold beers. Isn’t Dogleg the
greatest????
Religion got underway pretty
quickly, after everyone had enjoyed one or more of the Siao-Pao’s that cohare Crackerjack
had so thoughtfully provided – at the expense of the Hash. Dogleg gave great credit to his cohares for
everything they had done for this trail, and then, without warning, his cohares
immediately launched a coordinated attack on him! Yes, the backstabbing cohares had no shortage of lies, false
tales and insults regarding Dogleg, including completely fabricated stories
based upon Maxcheesemo’s own unhealthy desire to eat food from McDonalds;
exaggerated claims of injuries resulting from Dogleg’s tiny ‘slip’ while
swinging his machete; and a false projection onto Dogleg of their own failure
to hide themselves as they walked back to their cars and were spotted by
another Hasher. They were even brazen
enough to stage a coarse “play” of sorts, mimicking the falsified actions of
Dogleg, and to sing Crackerjack’s mean song about Dogleg and the full
moon. (never mind that Dogleg was
right.) What had Dogleg done to deserve
all of this???? Dogleg did not know.
The visiting Hasher from
Guantanamo Bay was welcomed, and so was the FNG (the 68 lady), who had come with
Cyber Bunny Pimp, but would not show her tits.
Then there were many courtesies to this excellent run from the
appreciative hounds. That is, until Crackerjack
and Maxcheesemo came back up to say more bad things about their cohare and
mentor Dogleg. Oh God WHY?????? A flashing of some huge jugs picked up
Dogleg’s spirits, just a little. Thanks
Mutt! Pervert Hoover and Donkey Dick
volunteered for the Halloween run on the 30th. Shitstain and Cheshire got up to kiss each
other’s asses and tell everyone all about their big Haloween weekend plans,
which conspicuously did NOT include the Hash on the 30th. But all of that still wasn’t enough to bring
Dogleg up from the tearing down his cohares had given him. Dogleg had done and said nothing but nice
things to his cohares, and what thanks did that earn him? Oh well, Dogleg would have to just take his
machete home and play with it by himself.
And just for that, Dogleg won’t come back to play this week! Dogleg hopes you’re all happy. Fuck you all!
The Saipan Hash House Harriers convenes every Saturday at
4:00 p.m. (3:30 during "winter") at the Bank of Guam parking lot in
Garapan U.S. $10.00 (NON NEGOTIABLE)
MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM Haj,
F. Kramden, Sir!!
RA: Dog
Leg
AAAARA: ????
FIRE MASTER Not
CLD
HASH CASH Ciega
TRAIL MASTER Dog
Leg
DLMM TECHNICIAN Dog
Leg
HASH SCRIBE Dogleg
RECEDING HARE LINE...
FM103 10/28 Thurs.
Full Moon - Shitstain
1041 10/30 OPEN Halloween!
1042 11/06 Ass Potential
End of World Hash
1043 11/13 Sissy
1044 11/20 Kowpaddy
Thanksgiving
1045 11/27 Sat.
Full Moon – Wiener V. Brown
HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
From your
Chief of Police, Edward Camacho:
On the purpose of sobriety
checkpoints:
“Whether they are sober or not we tell
them, ‘Hey, don’t drink and drive. Have a nice evening and enjoy the rest of
the night,’”
(Marianas Variety: October 14, 2004)
PLEASE DON’T DRINK AND DRIVE
THROUGH OUR CHECKPOINTS!
Sincerely,
Your Chief of Police, Edward
Camacho
RUN #1039 The “2nd
Annual All-Slimers” Run
HARES: Ciega, Mr.
Happy Pockets
BOX: Old
Rev & Tax (Tapotchau road)
ON HOME: World Hill
Resort, Sadog Tasi
CASUALTIES:
RUN: ¶¶
RELIGION: ¶¶¶
DLMM Rating: 9
CLDPDMMM: -
- - - - (not available)
It
was the 2nd annual “All Slimer’s” run, and sure enough, there was a
whole shitload of old farts gathered at the BOG. Without Ciega’s records at hand, it is difficult to say who they
all were. I mean, I’ve only been
Hashing for 9 years, and some of these people retired from Hashing 9
years before that, so how the hell am I supposed to know who they all
were? Some of the oldsters were
recognizable, high-flyin’ Saipan socialite types, which only made sense,
because for MHP and Ciega, this run has become less an exercise in setting
trail than schmoozing and kissing ass at as many parties and social events they
can attend. Others were a bit more
moldy, having apparently been exhumed from some grave or another, or perhaps the
bar at Bobby Cadillac’s. Suffice it to
say, there was a lot of gray hair in the crowd, and far more confusion than
usual.
T-shirts
were given away for “free” with the normal $10 price of admission. Some were foolish enough to believe that
this was some sort of miraculous, incredibly benevolent gift from the
penny-pinching Ciega. It took the cool,
level head of Dogleg to remind them that it was their own Hash Cash over the
past several months had that paid for the shirts; not Ciega’s pocket money. Nevertheless, there were shirts available, and
the design confirmed a few things for us:
in her dreams, Ciega does indeed have sagging tits, and Happy Pockets is
hung like a hamster.
It
quickly became apparent that if we didn’t get out of there, some old fucker was
going to wander out in front of a tour bus and get flattened, so the Box was
announced as the big water tank behind the old Rev & Tax Building. All the elderly people knew exactly where
this non-existent building was. The
rest of us had to be filled in on ancient history: the building was located where the pavement ends on the
way to Mt. Tapotchau. Nowadays, it
consists only of an old concrete foundation, all covered with Ivy gourd. When we got there, the old farts all
gathered ‘round the ruins and reminisced:
“I remember back in the Trust Territory days….” until the
hares arrived, and put them all into a nice, roomy, slimy box that was
apparently the foundation of an old Quonset hut: “I remember back in the Trust Territory days….”
The
hares were smarter than they were last year, and realized that special
instructions would quickly be forgotten by this crowd, so they set off without
any unusual notices. There were a
couple of FNGs present, but more importantly, a bunch of All-slimers that needed
to have the instructions ‘splained to them by Kramden, after which they
reminisced some more: “I remember
back in the Trust Territory days…”
And then we were off, headed up the Tapotchau road,
and then right, into the Chamolinian dinner theater place. Trail took the pack right past the stage and
bleachers, and then past an old greenhouse in the back. Then we were treated to a display of the
some of the worst local landowner behavior ever seen, short of shooting at us. As we ran through a grove of juvenile
betelnut trees, some drunk asshole was standing out in his field (not to be
confused with, oh never mind) holding a widemouth Budweiser, and screaming at
the top of his lungs: “Get the fuck off
my property! Now!” Dogleg attempted to approach the man, but
this enraged him even further, and Two-Timing Bitch wisely warned Dogleg
against going any farther. Beerhead was
able to actually talk to some of the family members, who told her that we were
lucky they didn’t bring their guns with them.
Or what? You would have murdered
all of us? What a stupid bunch of
shitheads.
After
that, the run was a bit less exciting.
Trail came out from there onto the upper Navy Hill Road, just by the
Frank Camacho farm, where a checking took the pack off into the ravine down
towards Sadog Tasi. Though he is not
yet “old”, Hajji Peewee proved that he is already an all-slimer, and took a
bunch of idiots along with him up the Xterra trail, simply because there was
ribbon (which he himself probably placed there back in April). He was wrong, and was not seen again until
much later. The rest of the pack headed
down the ravine, through a grove of bamboo that could have benefited from a
machete (did MHP give all of his away to various “trail masters”?) This trail came out onto Congressman Jess
Attao’s farm (who at one time was also out standing in his field, shouting at
the Hashers to get the fuck off his property).
The road to his farm is now nicely paved (gee I wonder how that
happened?) and eventually took us down to an arrow leading behind Maxcheesemo’s
place. This then led down into the
depths of Sadog Tasi, past the water stop, where the run meandered around a
long time before finally rising up the paved road back toward Middle Road and
the Shell station, and then up to the On-home at the unfinished Korean “World
Hill” resort. The Korean owner, in a
shirt and tie, came out after a short while and acted like he did not know we
would be there. He, too, could have
been out standing in his field with a beer, screaming at us to get the fuck off
his property, but he didn’t.
The All-slimers came in slowly
but surely, some actually not so slow – Cheetah and Split Hare were the
FRBs. During that time, we moved the
coolers up to the overlook area, and were told that our Hash Cash was also
paying for pizza. The crowd admired the
beautiful sunset and reminisced: “I
remember back in the Trust Territory days…” There was a vehicle run or two, and then the pizza arrived. This seemed to explain how the Bobby
Cadillac’s crowd got there.
Finally Kramden called religion to order, but by this time the first
load back to the retirement home had already departed, and the crowd had grown
smaller. Former RA Cheetah was asked to
be RA for the evening, and did everything expected of him, including ♫ “Jeff’s nuts roasting on an open
fire….” ♫. The hares did their
thing, and MHP tried to tell a pirate joke that required the audience to say
“Arrrr!” every time he moved his hand.
The problem is, MHP can’t talk without moving his hands, so he had to be
physically restrained so we could hear the rest of his joke because of all the
“Arrrrr!”s coming from the audience.
Kramden welcomed the FNG, and visiting All-slimer Slimius Maximus, and
then asked for courtesies. Some
expected all the All-slimers to be called up, but the newer hash crowd
dominated the vessel with tales from the trail, indictments, and miscellaneous
bullshit, that clearly went over the heads of the Geritol crowd: Droolbag got all worked up and incoherent
about some indictment or another, and Maxcheesemo responded by indicting
Droolbag for increasing the cost of Hashing for everyone by filing too many
frivolous indictments. Shitpyle and
Banger aired their dirty laundry again, this time with a disgusting story about
Shitpyle’s shitting habits. Mr. Happy
Pockets did a Palauan with Sissy, setting off a fire in his pants that we are
still hearing about today on the listbot.
Amanda received the name “Bar Fine” for always wearing a shirt that
labeled her as a “Quality Chick”. A few
more old folks drifted away during this time, but a showing of TITS livened
things up. The high DLMMM rating is the
result of two private showings. Thanks
Beerhead! Thanks Mutt! Those were HUGE! Kramden eventually forgot what he was doing, and Cheetah wandered
away, so the vessel was retired. A few
old-timers were left to Swing Low, and then the pack drifted away to various
parties and non-hash events.
The Saipan Hash House Harriers convenes every Saturday at
4:00 p.m. (3:30 during "winter") at the Bank of Guam parking lot in
Garapan U.S. $10.00 (NON NEGOTIABLE)
MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM Haj,
F. Kramden, Sir!!
RA: Dog
Leg
AAAARA: ????
FIRE MASTER Not
CLD
HASH CASH Ciega
TRAIL MASTER Dog
Leg
DLMM TECHNICIAN Dog
Leg
HASH SCRIBE Whippersnapper
RECEDING HARE LINE...
FM103 10/28 Thurs.
Full Moon - Shitstain
1041 10/30 OPEN Halloween!
1042 11/06 Ass Potential
End of World Hash
1043 11/13 Sissy
1044 11/20 Kowpaddy
Thanksgiving
1045 11/27 Sat.
Full Moon – Wiener V. Brown
CONTACT
CIEGA TO SIGN UP. IT IS A HASHER’S DUTY
TO BE A HARE.
BE A HARE,
SET TRAIL FOR YOUR FRIENDS
Yahoogroups list serve:
Keep up with the latest SH3 bullshit and worthless
information! Go to http://groups.yahoo.com/groups/shthree
Or e-mail Dogleg at bbearden@saipan.com and tell him you want
to join! Until you join, you have no
idea how much fun you’re missing!!!! (this is technically a true statement)
Goals of
the Hash
(From the
1938 charter of the Kuala Lumpur Hash House Harriers)
1.
1. To promote
physical fitness among our members
2.
2. To get rid
of weekend hangovers
3.
3. To acquire
a good thirst and to satisfy it in beer
4.
4. To persuade
the older members that they are not as old as they feel
RUN #1037: The “Costello is
faking it” Run
HARES: Abbot &
Costello
BOX: San
Roque (GTC) Beach
ON HOME: San Roque (GTC)
Beach
CASUALTIES: Everyone
RUN: ¶¶.8
RELIGION: ¶¶¶
DLMM Rating: 0
CLDPDMMM: instrument
not available
Five
months late is better than never. 22
hounds gathered at the Bank of Guam for the annual Abbot & Costello
anniversary run – no, not the anniversary of their wedding– but the more
important anniversary of the first time they set trail. Usually this occurs around April or May
(forgive us if we aren’t very precise), but not this year. Well, whatever – the important thing is that
it happened.
We
were joined at the bank by a few backsliders, including Splat (who was the beer
truck driver) and the Hares, but for the most part the crowd was the same as
the week before. It was a hot
afternoon, so the crowd was huddled in the shade of the bank when Costello
announced the location of the Box. Many
of those present did not know where GTC was, so they had to follow Ciega.
Once
there, the pack was assembled and the Hares gave the special instructions,
which ended with Costello telling everyone to look closely and remember what
his shirt looked like. Being a 950th
t-shirt (“Band of Drunkards”), most of us thought this might be some clue to
where we would be running, because the 950th trail was nearby. The hares took off (into their trucks) and
Dogleg set about the task of ‘splaining the instructions to the two FNGs, Hiroe
and Yoko from Hokkaido. Once that was
finished, the rest of the 10 minutes was spent trying to figure out if the
hares would run us past their house again, as they almost always do.
So,
the first thing everyone did (except Ciega) was run straight up into San Roque
village towards the Hare’s house.
On-ons stopped fairly quickly, but Droolbag mistook a tiny crushed rock
for flour, and spurred the inexperienced FRBs on, almost all the way to Paradise
Valley. This allowed Dogleg to take the
lead with Two Timing Bitch, and they found true trail leading south along
Chalan Pale Arnold, and then left into the old boonie road that goes up to the
abandoned pig farm and on to Mt. Susu.
They were starting to lose their lead a little when Two Timing Bitch
spotted the back of a 950th T-shirt in the boonies ahead of her and
cried “on hare!” After confirming that
she was not seeing things, Dogleg followed her in a sprint (actually a slightly
faster crawl) up the steep hillside, where trail had veered off the road. The Hare was moving just fast enough to keep
a small lead on them, so Dogleg and TTB tried reasoning with him: “Come on, we’re going to catch you anyway,
why tire yourself out?” After a few
minutes they had almost caught up to him, when he turned around and said “I’m
not my Dad.” Holy Shit! It was the hares’ 14 year old son. A decoy hare! Who would of thought Costello had that kind of shit up his
sleeves? Dogleg and TTB were
justifiably disappointed, and having spent all their energy, were able only to
feebly continue on, and the FRBs again passed them by. Trail eventually topped out onto another
boonie road above, which meandered downward along the slippery, rutted and
overgrown coral, eventually spilling back onto the same road we had come up.
It
did not take much figurin’ to figure out this was a circle jerk, which is why
it was so damn hard for the pack to accept that Pervert Hoover and Soapy Snatch
could have kept going all the way to Pau Pau beach. Why??? At least Pervert
got some barbecue and beer out of the deal.
All Soapy got was a load of shit for being the last one in. Unless you count Ciega, who had gone that
way to begin with, and for some unknown reason had decided not to turn around
at the on-back, and to walk up to Buster Brown & PLF’s house instead. BB/VVB drove her back to the On-home, had
hung around for a while before he got scared that PLF might get pissed off
about him being alone with Ciega for so long.
The run
was so short, that everyone was in before the sun was even five degrees above
the horizon (see, my astronomy experience is starting to pay off!) So everyone had plenty of time to sit around
and get drunk. CLD got the fire going,
and after a failed green flash, stand-in tyrant Dogleg called religion to
order. The hares came up and reminisced
about how many years they had lived on Saipan.
Next, the FNGs from Japan were called up, and one of them spoke just
enough Engrish to understand that she would probably not want to take Option
Number 1,and unfortunately, advised her friend to not do it either. They ended up wearing a good portion of
their sacred nectar. Next, Mike the
swim coach was forced to come up because he had skipped religion on his first
hash (stitches are no excuse), and after realizing that he was a replacement
Boner, Dogleg named him “Dildo”. Other
backsliders were then called up, and then Laila was asked to come up for a
naming based on her rock climbing experience the week before. She was named “Vertical Lai.” Chicken was heard muttering to her that he
would change her name to something better, later. Several tales from the trail followed, including the stories of
the false hare, and several accusations of improperly marked checkings. Hey, if you can’t figure out that it’s a
circle jerk, and choose to run on past your car without checking, it’s your own
damn fault! Religion was called to a
close while there was still some light on the horizon, and the area was
policed. Dogleg and CLD continued
trying to add on the “extra” verse to Swing Low, that most other Hashes
sing. Afterward, about half the group
went on to Hamilton’s, and the other half stayed back on the beach with beers
that Shitpyle had stolen from the Hash cooler.
They all came to Ham’s later, and partied past midnight.
The Saipan Hash House Harriers convenes every Saturday at
4:00 p.m. (3:30 during "winter") at the Bank of Guam parking lot in
Garapan U.S. $10.00 (NON NEGOTIABLE)
MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM Haj,
F. Kramden, Sir!!
RA: Dog
Leg
AAAARA: ????
FIRE MASTER Not
CLD
HASH CASH Ciega
TRAIL MASTER Dog
Leg
DLMM TECHNICIAN Dog
Leg
HASH SCRIBE Someone
else
RECEDING HARE LINE...
1039 10/16 Dogleg
& Maxcheesemo
1040 10/23 Dirty
Yellow Balls
FM103 10/28 Thurs.
Full Moon - Shitstain
1041 10/30 OPEN Halloween!
1042 11/06 Ass Potential
End of World Hash
1043 11/13 Sissy
1044 11/20 Kowpaddy
Thanksgiving
1045 11/27 Sat.
Full Moon – Wiener V. Brown
CONTACT
CIEGA TO SIGN UP. IT IS A HASHER’S DUTY
TO BE A HARE.
BE A HARE,
SET TRAIL FOR YOUR FRIENDS
ASSTRONOMY CORNER
Last week you all were regaled
with “Moon Facts”. This week, I will
tell you everything you ever wanted to know about Uranus. Did you know Uranus is visible to the naked
eye? Yes, nakedness must always be a
first step in spotting Uranus.
Specialized tools may assist in more detailed examinations, but
nakedness must start every viewing session.
Most people will be able to see Uranus without any aids. You, however, may require a mirror. Under good conditions, Uranus can take on a
greenish tint. However, under average
conditions, Uranus is a brownish shade.
Some have reported that Uranus has at times appeared pink, and even
angry red. Sometimes Uranus can appear
to scintillate, pulsing in and out.
Seeing Uranus is one thing –
anyone can see Uranus, given the right conditions. However, to see any detail, one must approach more closely. This can be hazardous, as Uranus is known to
contain large quantities of poisonous gases, and because of the distance, one’s
trajectory must be precise – Uranus is a small target, and easy for a probe to
miss. If not careful, a probe could
bounce right off to the side of Uranus.
Unmanned probes have visited Uranus in the past, but no attempt has yet
been made to penetrate Uranus to determine its interior composition. Some scientists fear that conditions closer
to the surface of Uranus may be too hazardous for any probe to survive
insertion. In fact, some scientists
speculate that Uranus may not have a solid surface at all, and that instead, a
probe would have to penetrate deeply before finding a hardened nugget to settle
on near the center.
One of the strangest
findings by scientists is the existence of rings around Uranus. The rings are dark, and are therefore not
visible unless in close proximity to Uranus.
Scientists speculate that the rings may only be temporary, and that they
may disappear after a time, due to the gravitational perturbations of other
stony objects that circle around Uranus.
Or, they may disappear after a good bath.
Normally hidden away,
when Uranus is viewed it sometimes looks like this:
RUN #1036: The “Shoot first,
chew betelnut later” Run
HARES: Cold Shower,
Spank-The-Stick-Up-My-Ass, and Generic White Boy
BOX: I-Connect
tower, Mt. Tapotchau
ON HOME: Marine Beach
CASUALTIES: Everyone
RUN: ¶¶¶¶
RELIGION: ¶¶¶
DLMM Rating: 9
CLDPDMMM: instrument
not available
Usually,
runs set by virgin Hares suck ass.
Remember Chicken Little Dick’s first run? Sometimes even when an experienced Hare sets with them – as I
recall from the time I helped MHP set his first trail (“You almost killed my
girlfriend! I’m gonna kick your
ass!”). On rare occasions, it works out
well – usually when the virgins put a lot of work into it, as was apparently
the case this time.
27
hounds showed up at the BOG, down a little from the previous week, probably
because the Hares had scared off a fair number of them with their listbot
messages warning about the length and difficulty of the run. We were joined by the long-absent Princess
Jama (with Francois), Puppy Porn, and visitors Scratchy Post and Hairy Ass Meat
Curtains (HAMC) from the Agana Hash.
The Box was announced as the top of Mt. Tapotchau, even though it really
wasn’t, and the pack was off. Being a
few minutes late, the hares were unable to intercept the pack, who then had to
pile back into their cars again and drive down to the I-Connect tower, which
was the real Box. Special instructions
were given, which were fairly complex – how to avoid a dangerous rope descent,
and when not to finish trail – but the hares had planned ahead and were going
to have Just Steve and Rough Rider waiting at the water stop to collect people
who did not make the cut-off time for the second boonies.
So
after everyone had a little time to digest all of that information, the Hares
took off down the road, while Steve and Rough Rider stayed behind, saying “so
what do we do now?” Dogleg ‘splained
the instructions to the FNGs, which included Ken, Derek, Joe, and his wife Ophelia. Five minutes had passed and the beer truck
had still not departed, so CLD decided to call the “three hares, five minutes”
rule, and jumped in the back of the beer truck as it finally departed. But he quickly felt bad and jumped out.
True
trail took the pack briefly onto the first part of the Tapotchau “Ring Road”,
and then straight down the east side of the mountain. There were lots of big views along there, as the trail descended
hillsides covered primarily with short swordgrass and ferns, before entering a
pandanus forest and coming out on the upper Papago roads that we ran on the
week before. The trail re-entered the
boonies here and meandered its way along the top of the forested ridgeline just
above the Kagman turnoff. This took us
through a nice forest of short, eucalyptus-like trees, and eventually down the
steep hillside to the road intersection.
Just before emerging, however, trail went past two Japanese tunnels,
which had some really cool artifacts on display in front, including a magazine
from a Japanese machine gun.
Just
Steve was waiting across the intersection at the water stop. He was supposed to stop everyone from going
into the second boonies after 5:30, but when push came to shove, he didn’t do
much: “well, I suppose you could go
on…” Some of the pack had no intention
of going any further, and just hung out there waiting for the mercy truck to
the on-home, and bitched about there not being any beer (as the Hares had
promised). For the rest of the pack
that made the cutoff time, or who didn’t give a rat’s ass and wanted to run
anyway, this was where things started going wrong.
Did I
imply earlier that the Hares had done a good job on this run? What I should have said was that they did a
good job for a bunch of virgins. The truth
was, it was a little fucked up, for two reasons – only one of which was the
fault of the hares. First was a
“non-traditional” checking. Trail went
across the intersection and directly into the boonies on the northeast side,
and then headed straight up to the top of that hill. One or two people saw the “checking” that took true trail off in
the right direction, but most of the pack passed these two, unmarked logs by
and ran to the top of the mountain, to a checking at the top of a nasty
cliff. Now, most of us were smart
enough to turn around and go back and find the log checking, and continue on
trail to the next deathtrap, but Donkey Dick, Sissy, and Laila decided, for
reasons the rest of us will never understand, to climb down the face of the
cliff. Fortunately they were not
killed. The rest of us continued on
into the deep ravine to the north of the mountain, which was a fascinating
place filled with caves and old Japanese stone emplacements. And apparently someone’s pot
plantation.
Some people thought it was
firecrackers. Some thought it was a .22
caliber rifle. For the first few of us,
the question was academic – we made it through with only a slight feeling of unease. Those behind the front of the pack found out
that it was not firecrackers. Scratchy
from Guam heard the bullets popping past him in the jungle, and hit the dirt
with HAMC and FNG Ken, who wondered out loud if this was what every Hash was
like. Ciega was also shot at, and like
the rest, decided not to go any further and went back to the water stop. Which was really too bad, because the rest
of the run was very nice.
Dogleg,
CLD and Wong Way found the alternate route past the “dangerous” rope, and came
down the cliff via an easier route.
Sword Swallower took the main route, and reported that it was indeed a
dangerous descent – a “free fall” as she put it, with nothing to put your feet
on. No thanks! Trail from here was a bit more familiar,
passing a few big caves with more artifacts on the way towards the Kannat
Taddong Papago stream and the waterfall cave, through which the Hash has
not run for several years now. The
stream was running very full and clear, and it was easy to forget about the
Lepto for a while and just enjoy the cool water. But there wasn’t much time, as it was beginning to get dark, and
it was a long way down the ravine to the next road, where we saw the new bridge
that DPW is constructing to help people get to their properties so they can
shoot at us from their cars next time.
Trail exited into Kagman I on this road, and eventually to the on-home
at Marine Beach. CLD and Dogleg decided
the hares deserved a big, sweaty hug for all the work they had done, but GWB
(maybe we should call him “Dubya”) wanted no part of it, and entertained the
locals by running around the parking lot in circles with CLD chasing him,
giggling like a schoolgirl.
Quite a
few hounds were already at the on-home, and more were on the way from the water
stop, so there were only a few hounds still out when the vehicle run took off
for the long ride back to Mt. Tapotchau.
In this case, good planning by the hares averted what could have been a
disaster (for them) – the only people on trail were those that had made it past
the water stop, and were fast enough to get in on their own. So, religion was able to start much earlier
than everyone had thought it would, considering the length and difficulty of
the trail, and only a few wankers bitched out during the vehicle run and went
home (guess who?). The fire was built
in the place where the dancing tent had been for the 1000th. In Kramden’s absence, Dogleg was Tyrant, and
called CLD up to be RA. The Hares came
up first and pled ignorant to the charge of not getting permission from the
trigger-happy fuckers in the second boonies.
In their defense, there was no indication whatsoever that we might have
been on private property, and there is never any excuse to shoot at
people. But no one wanted to call the
cops, so we let the assholes got away with it.
Maybe next time they will be better shots? Next up were visitors Scratchy and HAMC, who told their story of
being shot at, and bitched about always having the same On-home on the SH3 (the
last SH3 run they were on was the 1000th). HAMC did not show us her shaven beaver this time, but she did
show us her tits. The FNGs were next
and did not do too badly, and we got to see TITS again! Even Francois was man enough to come up for
his FNG down-down, having skipped religion the first time he hashed several
years ago. There were many tales from the
trail and courtesies to the hares, and everyone appreciated the hard work they
had done to set such a long and involved boonie trail. Just Steve got so much shit for being a wimp
at the water stop, that he was named “Bobby Boucher” (The Waterboy). Dogleg “unofficially” renamed Droolbag as
“Ballerina/Tutu”, for having been overheard saying “I need to get me some
ballet slippers for this stuff” while on trail. The spirit of the 1000th was in the air, and we got to
see more TITS, and then it began to rain.
Hard. For a long time. A few people drifted away during this time,
but most of them stuck honorably by the fire.
Once the rain had stopped, the area was policed and we swung low. Most of the crowd went on to Hamilton’s,
where tales from the trail continued, as often happens after such an epic run.
The Saipan Hash House Harriers convenes every Saturday at
4:00 p.m. (3:30 during "winter") at the Bank of Guam parking lot in
Garapan U.S. $10.00 (NON NEGOTIABLE)
MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM Haj,
F. Kramden, Sir!!
RA: Dog
Leg
AAAARA: ????
FIRE MASTER Not
CLD
HASH CASH Ciega
TRAIL MASTER Dog
Leg
DLMM TECHNICIAN Dog
Leg
HASH SCRIBE Ernie
Pile
RECEDING HARE LINE...
1038 10/9 Ciega
& MHP All-slimers Run
1039 10/16 Dogleg
& ????
1040 10/23 OPEN
FM103 10/28 Thurs.
Full Moon - Shitstain
1041 10/30 OPEN Halloween!
1042 11/06 OPEN Potential
End of World Hash
1043 11/13 OPEN
1044 11/20 Kowpaddy
Thanksgiving
CONTACT
CIEGA TO SIGN UP. IT IS A HASHER’S DUTY
TO BE A HARE.
BE A HARE,
SET TRAIL
FOR YOUR FRIENDS
RUN #1035: The “Who needs
flour?” Run
HARES: Droolbag
& Leave It
BOX: Lands
Registration Bldg, Capitol Hill
ON HOME: Lands
Registration Bldg, Capitol Hill
CASUALTIES: Shit
Pyle, Banger
RUN: ¶