13 hardy and hard-core hounds showed up to another run without a hare.  However, Dog Leg had a light bulb go on over his head and immediately volunteered and got Beerhead to be his co-hare.  The box was announced and the assembled, which included two FNG’S, Michelle and Dave, Alaskans who came with MHP.  A lame Pinnocular drove the beer truck.  Once the assembled headed up to the box, the hares were off.  The Tyrant ‘splained the instructions to the two FNG’s and then we all waited for the 10-minute head start to be over.  After the countdown, the pack was off to a checking at the top of the Little Burma Road.  MHP ran north while everyone else ran south. MHP ran past an ON BACK (although he called it so none of us would follow him) and then ran the entire Laderan Tangke Trail to the Bird Island Overlook and back.  True trail went out to the road that goes out to the cliff line house that overlooks the Nikko.  A checking took the Tyrant down the road towards San Roque, but this quickly fizzled out.  Elvis was now in the lead and the trail headed out toward Mt. Su Su so we began to speculate that the trail would go down Paradise Valley.  But this would not happen.  There were many checking’s along the way, and the pack was kept close together.  The true trail was a mountain bike trail that Dog Leg had found and remembered and meandered through and area called Sabanan Nanansu.  The trail continued to meander through this area and finally popped out on the Little Burma Road almost directly across the street from the Department of Public Safety Shooting Range.  Then it was a boring run down the newly leveled coral road to a checking at the red cattle fence.  Here the trail turned toward the Kalabera Cave and a straight shot to the parking lot.  Somewhere along this road, Claymore and the Tyrant caught a glimpse of a pair of huge Glutes and noticed that just ahead, about 100 yards, was Beerhead, so the Tyrant yelled “ON HARE”, but to no avail.  Two old farts cannot catch a hare in danger of being caught.  The On Home was historic because this is where Chicken Lil Dick got his name.  Eventually all of the hounds showed up, even Ladrone, before dark.  A fire was started and the Tyrant piped up Religion.  The hares were called forward and Dog Leg explained how he came up with the idea of the trail.  Next Beerhead showed us why they call her that.  Then the FNG’s, Fireman Dave and Policeman Michelle came forward and said that THEY made each other come, but by the shit-eating grin on Mr. Happy Pockets face, we all knew the truth.  The Tyrant called for courtesies and jokes and there were a few.  It was a slow night and the Tyrant just could not get the crowd going so the area was policed, Swing Low was sung, and everyone headed to Hamilton’s.  The Tyrant of course went home.

REMEMBER, IF YOU GO BACK TO THE REAL WORLD AND THERE IS NO HASH, START ONE.  IT IS A GREAT WAY TO MEET PEOPLE AND SOME ONE IS BOUND TO SHOW THEIR TITS ONE OF THESE DAYS.

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM: HAJ, F.KRAMDEN, SIR!!
RA:  HAJJI PEE WEE
AAAARA: DOG LEG
FIRE MASTER: PINNOCULAR
D.L.MMMM TECHNICIAN: DOGLEG
HASH CASH: CIEGA
TRAIL MASTER: HAJJI PEEWEE
HASH SCRIBE:  BREEZY DRAFT
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.$7.00 (NON NEGOTIABLE)

RECEDING HARE LINE
851  3/10  HAJJI PEEWEE/FULL MOON
852  3/17  OPEN
853  3/24  CHICKENLILDICK & FLOORSHOW
854  3/31   HAJ CLAYMORE
855  4/7   OPEN
IF YOU WANT TO SIGN UP TO BE A HARE, CONTACT CIEGA.  IT IS A HASHERS DUTY TO BE A HARE.  BE SOMEBODY, SET TRAIL FOR YOUR FRIENDS.

EDITORIAL
As the Tyrant for life, it is my honor and privilege to welcome everyone to the 850TH running of the Saipan Hash House Harriers.  We are blessed with a contingent of Guam Hashers, some of whom were actually on run numbers 1, 2, and 3 when the SH3 was spawned.  I also want to give great honor to Beer Head and myself for having continued to Hash, non-stop, putting family and business aside, for the past 15 ½ years, come rain or come shine.  Who says we lack commitment.  And I also want to give great honor to Ciega, who although she won’t admit it, LOVES BEING HASH CASH!!!!!  Without these and the other members of the SH3 mismanagement, many of you would have to find a life or go to Guam to see people like Mikhaill Baryshnikov on Saturday afternoons.  NOW WHY DON’T YOU SHOW YOUR GRATITUDE AND SIGN UP TO BE A HARE??!!??
WANT TO ADOPT A BEACH.  CONTACT DOG LEG.
REMINDER: EFFECTIVE 12/9/00, HASH WILL COST $7.00
WE MEET AT 3:30 P.M. (until MARCH 2001)
WANT TO SURF THE HASH NET.  TRY
WWW.HALF-MIND.COM OR WWW.GTHHH.COM
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR WELCOME.  PLEASE SEND TO WOLF@SAIPAN.COM TO GET ON THE SH3 MESSAGE LIST, VISIT
WWW.HUFFYPUFFY.COM

28 nubile boy and girl hashers showed up in their finest lingerie to do the annual Hash Flash.  Joining us at the Bank of Guam were a couple of flying waitressFNG’s, namely Kim Curry & Patrick (former bartender at Rudy’s) Heatherington, Brian (Sluts cousin), Tuna Helper from Guam, and the long missing Lemur, who was playing hookey from work.  We also had a visiting hasher from the Samurai Hash who was misinformed about the time of the hash and proceeded to get shit faced at 2:00 p.m. until Ciega showed up and shooed him away. This was also the last run for Ari (Mrs. Lugey) , who is moving to New Joisey. Amory, Mary, and Ptooey Ptooey showed up since their roommate was the co-hare. Anyway, the box was announced as the old Navy Hill Lighthouse and that is where the assembled went.  The Tyrant got on the roof first and found some smoldering rugs and pine leaves and pissed on the fire, then ran downstairs to get some ice, and then Lemur pissed on the fire.  While the Tyrant was getting the ice, the pinhead who started the fire tried to make his escape on his bike down the stairs and almost broke his head. Once on the roof and in the tower, the hares waited for special instructions, which were given by the hares (flour and HOT PINK ribbon).  Then they were off and the Tyrant ‘splained the instructions to the FNG’s. After the 10-minute head start the pack was off to the trail on the baseball field.  The trail went south and then around the field to a checking which headed straight up the hill towards the famous area where Arachnophiliac did his face plant into the limestone.  However, the trail checked left just before this driveway and past the Occupational Disabilities office and then down into the jungle behind.  A little bit of soft jungle and then we found ourselves out near the lighthouse again, and then down behind the Marianas Hotel.  The true trail went in between homes and hovels and barracks and then popped back out on to the main road.    Some people just stayed on the road and caught up with the trail.  From here the trail continued down the back side of Navy Hill and then went back into the jungle on the left side of the road.  The trail meandered around here for a little while, and we could smell that we were very close to the Puerto Rico Sewage Treatment Plant.  Eventually we came to a barbed wire fence which runs along the ANAKS northern perimeter, and then down to the driveway of same.  From here a checking took the pack south on the Froilan C. Tenorio Memorial Speedway and a long, hot run to the American Memorial Park.  A false (or erased checking) took the pack into the boonies to nothing.  So back out to the next checking (which was not erased) and then a short jungle trail through the AMP wetlands.  Just before we got out of the wetlands was a heart-shaped sign, which told us to go to Hard Rock Café (only no one saw it except Lugey).  So, we cluster-fucked around the Flag circle for a few minutes, until Lugy came out and told us where to go.  We ran to the DFS Galleria (and some of us through it) ran up to the Hard Rock where the hares were waiting.  We had a couple of rounds of drinks and then the hares told us to follow them to the next stop (where we would receive a free gift). Down into the cesspool that is Central Garbagepan, around the Talapia pens, past the massage parlors, and into one of the NASTIEST porn shops I have ever had the pleasure of going to.  We got to look around (but not touch) and as we were leaving, the owner gave away free “GLOW IN THE DARK CONDOMS” for the Sexy Runners.  From here it was a brief jog to Buds Bar new location for some more rounds.  Then we were off to the lobby of the Hyatt, past a gawking Double Entry, and then down to the Beach and north to Micro Beach where the On Home was. A vehicle run was done to get the wood and then a nice fire was started. MHP brought out the old Webber and commenced to make delicious hamburgers and plump Ball Park Franks, with all the condiments.  After everyone had pigged out, the Tyrant piped up Religion and the hares were called forward.  After some ass licking and smoke blowing, the Tyrant called forth the visiting hasher Tuna Helper.  He agreed it was an excellent run and that when we travel (to Fiji, or Bali), we should make it a point to do the hash in those countries (or whatever country we happen to be in).  Next the FNG’s were called forward and we found out that the two flying wait people did NOT NOT NOT, work for Continental so they were not thrown on the fire.  Sluts cousin Brian was next and did not embarrass his family.  There were then many courtesies to the run and the carrying on of the Lingerie Run tradition.  There were even some mild attempts at jokes. But soon, everyone full of beer and food, the vessel was retired and the area policed. Swing Low was sung and the assembled headed in many different directions.  The Tyrant of course went home.

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM: HAJ, F.KRAMDEN, SIR!!
RA:  HAJJI PEE WEE
AAAARA: DOG LEG
FIRE MASTER: PINNOCULAR
D.L.MMMM TECHNICIAN: DOGLEG
HASH CASH: CIEGA
TRAIL MASTER: HAJJI PEEWEE
HASH SCRIBE:  ARDEN NODOZE
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.$7.00 (NON NEGOTIABLE)

RECEDING HARE LINE
850  3/3/01PINNOCULAR, ELVIS, PIT BULL, & MARY HAYASHI
851  3/10
IF YOU WANT TO SIGN UP TO BE A HARE, CONTACT CIEGA.  IT IS A HASHERS DUTY TO BE A HARE.  BE SOMEBODY, SET TRAIL FOR YOUR FRIENDS.

EDITORIAL
Not much to say this week except that we need hares to start signing up for the rest of the year.  Hashing is an interactive, participatory kind of sport.  Be interactive.  Participate.  Be a hare.

WANT TO ADOPT A BEACH.  CONTACT DOG LEG.
REMINDER: EFFECTIVE 12/9/00, HASH WILL COST $7.00
WE MEET AT 3:30 P.M. (until MARCH 2001)
WANT TO SURF THE HASH NET.  TRY
WWW.HALF-MIND.COM OR WWW.GTHHH.COM
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR WELCOME.  PLEASE SEND TO WOLF@SAIPAN.COM TO GET ON THE SH3 MESSAGE LIST, VISIT
WWW.HUFFYPUFFY.COM

28 nubile boy and girl hashers showed up in their finest lingerie to do the annual Hash Flash. Joining us at the Bank of Guam were a couple of flying waitressFNG’s, namely Kim Curry & Patrick (former bartender at Rudy’s) Heatherington, Brian (Sluts cousin), Tuna Helper from Guam, and the long missing Lemur, who was playing hookey from work. We also had a visiting hasher from the Samurai Hash who was misinformed about the time of the hash and proceeded to get shit faced at 2:00 p.m. until Ciega showed up and shooed him away. This was also the last run for Ari (Mrs. Lugey) , who is moving to New Joisey. Amory, Mary, and Ptooey Ptooey showed up since their roommate was the co-hare. Anyway, the box was announced as the old Navy Hill Lighthouse and that is where the assembled went. The Tyrant got on the roof first and found some smoldering rugs and pine leaves and pissed on the fire, then ran downstairs to get some ice, and then Lemur pissed on the fire. While the Tyrant was getting the ice, the pinhead who started the fire tried to make his escape on his bike down the stairs and almost broke his head. Once on the roof and in the tower, the hares waited for special instructions, which were given by the hares (flour and HOT PINK ribbon). Then they were off and the Tyrant ‘splained the instructions to the FNG’s. After the 10-minute head start the pack was off to the trail on the baseball field. The trail went south and then around the field to a checking which headed straight up the hill towards the famous area where Arachnophiliac did his face plant into the limestone. However, the trail checked left just before this driveway and past the Occupational Disabilities office and then down into the jungle behind. A little bit of soft jungle and then we found ourselves out near the lighthouse again, and then down behind the Marianas Hotel. The true trail went in between homes and hovels and barracks and then popped back out on to the main road. Some people just stayed on the road and caught up with the trail. From here the trail continued down the back side of Navy Hill and then went back into the jungle on the left side of the road. The trail meandered around here for a little while, and we could smell that we were very close to the Puerto Rico Sewage Treatment Plant. Eventually we came to a barbed wire fence which runs along the ANAKS northern perimeter, and then down to the driveway of same. From here a checking took the pack south on the Froilan C. Tenorio Memorial Speedway and a long, hot run to the American Memorial Park. A false (or erased checking) took the pack into the boonies to nothing. So back out to the next checking (which was not erased) and then a short jungle trail through the AMP wetlands. Just before we got out of the wetlands was a heart-shaped sign, which told us to go to Hard Rock Café (only no one saw it except Lugey). So, we cluster-fucked around the Flag circle for a few minutes, until Lugy came out and told us where to go. We ran to the DFS Galleria (and some of us through it) ran up to the Hard Rock where the hares were waiting. We had a couple of rounds of drinks and then the hares told us to follow them to the next stop (where we would receive a free gift). Down into the cesspool that is Central Garbagepan, around the Talapia pens, past the massage parlors, and into one of the NASTIEST porn shops I have ever had the pleasure of going to. We got to look around (but not touch) and as we were leaving, the owner gave away free "GLOW IN THE DARK CONDOMS" for the Sexy Runners. From here it was a brief jog to Buds Bar new location for some more rounds. Then we were off to the lobby of the Hyatt, past a gawking Double Entry, and then down to the Beach and north to Micro Beach where the On Home was. A vehicle run was done to get the wood and then a nice fire was started. MHP brought out the old Webber and commenced to make delicious hamburgers and plump Ball Park Franks, with all the condiments. After everyone had pigged out, the Tyrant piped up Religion and the hares were called forward. After some ass licking and smoke blowing, the Tyrant called forth the visiting hasher Tuna Helper. He agreed it was an excellent run and that when we travel (to Fiji, or Bali), we should make it a point to do the hash in those countries (or whatever country we happen to be in). Next the FNG’s were called forward and we found out that the two flying wait people did NOT NOT NOT, work for Continental so they were not thrown on the fire. Sluts cousin Brian was next and did not embarrass his family. There were then many courtesies to the run and the carrying on of the Lingerie Run tradition. There were even some mild attempts at jokes. But soon, everyone full of beer and food, the vessel was retired and the area policed. Swing Low was sung and the assembled headed in many different directions. The Tyrant of course went home.

REMEMBER, IF YOU GO BACK TO THE REAL WORLD AND THERE IS NO HASH, START ONE. IT IS A GREAT WAY TO MEET PEOPLE AND SOME ONE IS BOUND TO SHOW THEIR TITS ONE OF THESE DAYS.

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM: HAJ, F.KRAMDEN, SIR!!
RA: HAJJI PEE WEE
AAAARA: DOG LEG
FIRE MASTER: PINNOCULAR
D.L.MMMM TECHNICIAN: DOGLEG
HASH CASH: CIEGA
TRAIL MASTER: HAJJI PEEWEE
HASH SCRIBE: ARDEN NODOZE

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.$7.00 (NON NEGOTIABLE)

RECEDING HARE LINE
850 3/3/01PINNOCULAR, ELVIS, PIT BULL, & MARY HAYASHI
851 3/10
IF YOU WANT TO SIGN UP TO BE A HARE, CONTACT CIEGA. IT IS A HASHERS DUTY TO BE A HARE. BE SOMEBODY, SET TRAIL FOR YOUR FRIENDS.

EDITORIAL

Not much to say this week except that we need hares to start signing up for the rest of the year. Hashing is an interactive, participatory kind of sport. Be interactive. Participate. Be a hare.

WANT TO ADOPT A BEACH. CONTACT DOG LEG.

REMINDER: EFFECTIVE 12/9/00, HASH WILL COST $7.00
WE MEET AT 3:30 P.M. (until MARCH 2001)

WANT TO SURF THE HASH NET. TRY WWW.HALF-MIND.COM OR WWW.GTHHH.COM
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR WELCOME. PLEASE SEND TO WOLF@SAIPAN.COM TO GET ON THE SH3 MESSAGE LIST, VISIT
WWW.HUFFYPUFFY.COM

19 hounds showed up at the to no hares but 2 of then decided to be hares and one of them decided to drive the beer truck. There would have been more people except someone who hashes occasionally decided to have a party the same time as the hash. Included in this group were long missing boat people Shlong Thong and the Commodore, as well as Abbott (who is 2 for 2). We also had visiting hasher Drip Lip from the Agana Hash. We also had 3 FNG’s, a couple of visitors from Norway, Lars and William, and Leanne who is married to Dave of Topsider fame. Dogleg (after consulting with the Tyrant) and MR. Happy Pockets, after talking to Dog Leg announced the box as Botanical Gardens in Papago. The assembled headed towards the other side of the island and parked outside the gate. We crossed the street and while waiting for the rest of the pack were accosted by a man who was afraid we were going to steal his blocks and sand from the construction site that was the box. After a while, the hares were off and the Tyrant ‘splained the instructions to the FNG’s. After the 10-minute head start the pack was off. The Tyrant, "knowing" where the trail was going headed immediately to the trail that goes through a Palauan guys yard, where his wife said, "they did not come through here, but I did see some rabbits running the other way on the road". Those who did not follow the Tyrant lucked out, since the trail went the other way, past Facey Farms, past Fortress Millard, and then down past the post office. Another check at the Millionaire Acres/Sugar Train Railroad bed took the pack out towards the many ravines that run down to Lau Lau. Lau Lau is where the mis-scheduled birthday party for the erstwhile hashers was being held the SAME TIME as the hash. The first ravine was going to be the trail and we immediately dropped down into the trash filled creek bed. Fortunately it was not raining otherwise it would have bee pretty slippery going down the trail. Down, down, down the trail went, past more diapers and garbage, under branches, over branches etc. Eventually we popped out on to the main Lau Lau road and another 100 feet to the first beach. Another mile up the road, the insensitive, sometimes hashers were having a birthday party that everyone was invited to but why have it the same time as the hash? Eventually the rest of the pack dawdled in and the Tyrant piped up Religion. The hares were called forward first. They talked about how long (5 minutes) it took them to figure out the run. Next visiting hasher Drip Lip came up and said that he did not know what the Guamaniacs meant, since the Saipan Hash was kind of nice. The FNG’s were called forward next and none of them made fools of themselves. Courtesies were called for and done. Jokes were called for and some were done. Then Drip Lip tried to import some Agony Hash traditions with the FNG’s but was soundly trundled by the Honorable Beerhead. Assholes who were going to the party up the beach kept turning in at our beach, interrupting Religion, and then figuring out they screwed up, backing up and going out. Eventually, the night had to end and the Tyrant called for policing the area. Swing low was sung and the assembled headed to the party up the beach (which was being held by people that really don’t give a shit about hashing or how fucked up it is to schedule something the same time as the hash). The Tyrant of course went home.

REMEMBER, IF YOU GO BACK TO THE REAL WORLD AND THERE IS NO HASH, START ONE. IT IS A GREAT WAY TO MEET PEOPLE AND SOME ONE IS BOUND TO SHOW THEIR TITS ONE OF THESE DAYS.

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM: HAJ, F.KRAMDEN, SIR!!
RA: HAJJI PEE WEE
AAAARA: DOG LEG
FIRE MASTER: PINNOCULAR
D.L.MMMM TECHNICIAN: DOGLEG
HASH CASH: CIEGA
TRAIL MASTER: HAJJI PEEWEE
HASH SCRIBE: Ralph Hitler
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.$7.00 (NON NEGOTIABLE)

RECEDING HARE LINE
849 2/24/01
850 PINNOCULAR, ELVIS, PIT BULL, & MARY HAYASHI
IF YOU WANT TO SIGN UP TO BE A HARE, CONTACT CIEGA. IT IS A HASHERS DUTY TO BE A HARE. BE SOMEBODY, SET TRAIL FOR YOUR FRIENDS.

EDITORIAL

Aside from the Birthday Party that was scheduled opposite the hash this Saturday, several other athletic types have tried to schedule Triathlons at the SAME TIME as the hash. Although most hashers are not serious athletes, there are those who do other things besides hash. But these things can be done on Saturday Mornings. They can be done on Sunday mornings. They can be done on Sunday afternoons. WHY or WHY do they insist on doing it on the day, which is set aside for tradition? Hash Tradition. If you know of anyone who had committed such a Faux Pas, please invite him or her to the hash. They will either love it or hate it. But they will never schedule something opposite the hash again.

WANT TO ADOPT A BEACH. CONTACT DOG LEG.
REMINDER: EFFECTIVE 12/9/00, HASH WILL COST $7.00
WE MEET AT 3:30 P.M. (until MARCH 2001)
WANT TO SURF THE HASH NET. TRY WWW.HALF-MIND.COM OR WWW.GTHHH.COM
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR WELCOME. PLEASE SEND TO WOLF@SAIPAN.COM TO GET ON THE SH3 MESSAGE LIST, VISIT
WWW.HUFFYPUFFY.COM

39 hounds showed at the Bank of Guam to run a run that would be set by Guamaniacs Sex and Rude Boy, and Saipanuvian Mole Mariefe.  Included were visiting hashers His Eminence Haj Von Slimetoven, Dick Chair Tracy, Petra, Cody and his mom and dad, Tampon, and Whining Weenie. There were also 4 FNG’s.  David who ran the entire run in his Topsiders, Stacy and Matt (who either came with Dogleg or Mariefe or both), and Christie who Really Came with Mariefe.  The box was announced as San Pedro  San Isidro Chapel and most of the hounds headed to Gualo Rai.  However, Mutt, Cecil B. Delmilks, and Slimy headed to Kannat Tabla and San Pedro Chapel, not to be seen until Religion.  The people who are not to old and deaf got into the box at San Isidro Chapel and got no special instructions (nothing about the electrified fence, toilet paper, etc.) and were told to just follow flour. The Guamaniacs said “Three hares, five minutes.”  But the Tyrant who along with being the Tyrant is also keeper of the traditions quickly quashed this.  It is 10 minutes in Saipan. After the 10-minute head start, the pack was off up the hill towards the old road, which runs in the valley behind Ben Fitials house.  This area is called Laderan Rueda.  The trail went immediately into a jungle and along a barbed wire fence.  A checking took the pack left to an on back.  There was a barbed wire fence and flour on the other side, but when someone touched the fence they found that it was BZZZZZT!! Electrified.  This couldn’t be the way!  But it certainly was.  And several people, not believing that it was, grabbed a hold of it with both feet on the ground and with both hands.  BZZZZZT!  To make a long story short, everyone helped everyone else through this and then on to the true trail, which followed the fence down into the first of at least two valleys, we would cross.  This trail meandered through some light brush and vines and then past some fantastic bamboo groves. The trail continued south of  Mount Tipo Pale. As we meandered through the valley floor we began to go up again and realized that we were going up what is known as Kannat Tabla Kattan.  The trail continued up some loose rocky soil, and eventually ended up on top of Sabanan Eddot.  Once we reached the top of this mesa, we began another descent into another valley.  The sounds of rapid-fire guns or firecrackers were really annoying.  The Tyrant thought that it was the rustle of high palm leaves.  But as we came out onto a clearing , located on a farm right behind the shooting range, we saw fire truck with it’s crew, looking at the jungle behind us.  It was a huge wildfire, eating up the side of the mountain.  The trail continued out on to the road, to a checking into the jungle and then out on to the San Pedro Chapel Road.  However there was nothing at San Pedro Chapel.  So back down the road and out on the Kannat Tabla Road, past Kannat Gardens, the old Artillery Memorial, to a STUPID on back up a newly cleared road.  The trail eventually led to the Dan Dan Quarry, where a break in the hedges gave us a peak at the On Home. A vehicle run was done and eventually, Pinnocular and Elvis got a huge pile of wood ready for the fire.  The Tyrant called for RA Emeritus Dick Chair to fill in for the absent PeeWee and the resting Dog Leg. Religion was piped up and the hares were called forward.  Next the visiting hashers came up and everything was ok until WW (O.M.G.O.M.G.) started his whining.  My Mother used to say, “if you’re gonna cry, cry, just DON’T WHINE!” Next the FNG’s were called forward and everyone drank so we saw no tits.  Courtesies were called and jokes were told. The visitors from the South were rather well behaved.  Pinnocular presented Dick Chair with his very own RRRRRRRR! Like Vikings helmet. Slimey received hash ribbons from Claymore, and Dick Chair passed out AC/DC headbands.  Floorshow and Chicken Lil Dick got up to do a song in honor of the late hash dong Ranger. SEX pulled down his pants to try and impress Laprobe, but if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.  Alas, now it was time to say good-bye to our very own hash cross dresser Tiny Tim.  The bereaved gathered in a line behind the Tyrant and the RA and began to spill out their guts on how much they would miss Tiny Tim.  Beaver Trail sang him a song. Although he has not hashed much in the last year or so, he has become legend from his outfits on the Flash Hash and all the wonderful Theme parties he and his bride have sponsored.  There was much levity and some tears, but eventually, even this part of Religion came to an end. And no matter how much singing the Agony Hashers did to keep it going, it would not continue.  The fire by this time was a huge bonfire with Radiant heat reaching out about 20 feet. It was time to go with Mariefe swearing she would return the next day to make sure everything was cleaned up.  The area was policed, and Round Two was announced as the place to be after the hash.  So that is where everyone headed.  Except the Tyrant, who of course, went home.
HASHING AROUND THE WORLD

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM: HAJ, F.KRAMDEN, SIR!!
RA:  HAJJI PEE WEE
AAAARA: DOG LEG
FIRE MASTER: PINNOCULAR
D.L.MMMM TECHNICIAN: DOGLEG
HASH CASH: CIEGA
TRAIL MASTER: HAJJI PEEWEE
HASH SCRIBE:  RINGO ARAFAT
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.$7.00 (NON NEGOTIABLE)

RECEDING HARE LINE
849 2/10/01 OPEN
848 2/17/01 NATASHA & SLUT,
 THE ANNUAL HASH FLASH
849 OPEN
850 PINNOCULAR, ELVIS, PIT BULL, & MARY HAYASHI
IF YOU WANT TO SIGN UP TO BE A HARE, CONTACT CIEGA.  IT IS A HASHERS DUTY TO BE A HARE.  BE SOMEBODY, SET TRAIL FOR YOUR FRIENDS.

EDITORIAL
It was nice of the Guamaniacs (most of them anyway) to keep their clothes on most of the evening.  I certainly understand why they call Whining Wheenie, and I certainly hope they leave him home next time. It was a wonderful night.  The only problem with us going to Guam and trying to re-colonize THEM is that we just don’t have the need to be oppressive and obnoxious.
Alas, we say farewell to yet another long time hasher.  There has got to be something wrong with the economy, when a man and woman will leave this paradise island for a place like Maui.  What does Maui have that we don’t, besides no garment factories, no central Garbage Pan, no Chinese whores and pimps, no dead lagoon, no antiquated sewage system that pumps gazillions of gallons of shit into the lagoon everyday?

WANT TO ADOPT A BEACH.  CONTACT DOG LEG.
REMINDER: EFFECTIVE 12/9/00, HASH WILL COST $7.00
WE MEET AT 3:30 P.M. (until MARCH 2001)
WANT TO SURF THE HASH NET.  TRY WWW.HUFFYPUFFY.COM

29 hounds went to the BOG not knowing who would be the hares.  Included was the long missing Religious Advisor Hajji Peewee who had been vacationing in New Zealand, and the just as long missing Abbott.  The Tyrant told everyone that we would be pulling names out of the vessel, so Pinnocular said, “never mind, Elvis and I will do it.”  So the box was announced and the hares were off and said they would meet us there.  The pack headed up to Marpi and the Kalabera Cave.  When we got to the cave, there was a Korean tourist couple inside and they took our picture and we took their picture with us.  After the hares had talked about special instructions, FLOUR ONLY!!, they were off.  The Tyrant ‘splained the instructions to FNG’s Dana and Melissa (Red Squirrel made them come), Travis, who came with Inflatable Slut, Teresa (who came with the long missing Dorothy), and last but not least, Kowpaddy’s latest squeeze, Miharu.  After the ten-minute head start, the pack was off and found a HUGE arrow (from a broken flour bag) pointing towards the main road.  A checking here split the pack in two, both ends running all the way to the ends of the road to On Backs at the Little Burma Road and almost to the Overlook.  Dog Leg ran past the On Back, up the hill across from the Overlook, and on his own run up the Laderan Tangke Trail and the Radar Station.  Everyone else went back to a checking that took us into the jungle south of Kalabera Cave.  The first barbed wire fence was right near the road and everyone helped everyone else through.  The pack then headed inland toward the cliff line and then started the long, uphill climb, toward the top of Laderan Kalabera Lichan. The trail, which led up here, was peppered with loose rocks, and lots of vines and mimosa bushes, which tugged and tore at our calves.  And the hares put lots of checking’s on this trail, which kept the pack pretty much together, with the FRB’s continuously running back on the pack after doing incredibly long on backs.  Once on top of the mesa, there was more of the same tugging bushes and meandering between trees on a trail that was obviously set live by people who knew generally where they were going but not exactly.  This caused lots of zigging and zagging.  Add to this the fact that they lost half of their flour at the box and they were trying to conserve, we had a pretty sparsely marked trail.  Laws of nature being what they are, what goes up must come down, and down we went.  There were a few spots where the rocks were pretty loose and the trail pretty precipitous.  But fortunately no one was injured.  Eventually, the trail popped out only feet from the entrance to Kalabera Cave and the Tyrant found this amazingly accurate.  From here the trail went back down to the main road, a checking left, and past the on back which was now an arrow pointing towards the Overlook.  Kowpaddy, having taken a huge crowd of RRB’s on a wrong trail led them out of the jungle very close to the On Home, missing big part of the run. The first vehicle run was done before half of the pack was in and a second one done just before Religion.  Once everyone was in, the Tyrant piped up Religion, and the hares were called forward.  Just as this happened, Beerhead shouted, “SATELLITE!” and everyone looked up in time to see 3 of the celestial space junks flying overhead.  Then the hares confessed that this really was a spur of the moment run, although Elvis had been scouting this area for quite some time.  Next the FNG’s were called forward, and although we tried and tried and tried, and we could tell there was much to see, no one would take Option # 1.  However, from the lip-licking look on Red Squirrels face, we could see she had a busy week.  After the FNG’s were done, courtesies were done to this excellent run and then the Tyrant called for jokes.  There were a few jokes and then more courtesies.  Then we had a trip report from Pussy who had hashed twice in Bali and was a little embarrassed by his behavior (not singing and what not) but we are all proud that he hashed while away.  Ciega talked about her visit with Arachnophiliac in Honolulu and almost going on the Aloha Hash.  More jokes were told, and then Natasha got up and proved that she did get a degree at the Kramden School for Stand Up Comics.  It was the most hilarious thing I have seen since I can’t remember when.  I hope this is a tradition that continues.  The Tyrant then called for the area to be policed and then someone asked that we sing Fuck A Duck, which led the Canadian Vet to say, I know a song, and she started us on a rendition of Bestiality’s Best. Finally the area was policed, Swing Low was sung, and the assembled headed back to the BOG and points elsewhere to eat.  The Tyrant of course, went home.

REMEMBER, IF YOU GO BACK TO THE REAL WORLD AND THERE IS NO HASH, START ONE.  IT IS A GREAT WAY TO MEET PEOPLE AND SOME ONE IS BOUND TO SHOW THEIR TITS ONE OF THESE DAYS.

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM: HAJ, F.KRAMDEN, SIR!!
RA:  HAJJI PEE WEE
AAAARA: DOG LEG
FIRE MASTER: PINNOCULAR
D.L.MMMM TECHNICIAN: DOGLEG
HASH CASH: CIEGA
TRAIL MASTER: HAJJI PEEWEE
HASH SCRIBE:  YASSER STARR
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.$7.00 (NON NEGOTIABLE)

RECEDING HARE LINE
846 2/3/01 OPEN
847 2/10/01 OPEN
848 2/17/01 NATASHA & SLUT,
 THE ANNUAL HASH FLASH
849 OPEN
850 PINNOCULAR, ELVIS, PIT BULL, & MARY HAYASHI
IF YOU WANT TO SIGN UP TO BE A HARE, CONTACT CIEGA.  IT IS A HASHERS DUTY TO BE A HARE.  BE SOMEBODY, SET TRAIL FOR YOUR FRIENDS.

      EDITORIAL
What a wonderful hash.  It was spur of the moment.  It had a toasty fire. It had a clear sky with great satellite watch. It had some great jokes and great joke telling.  We even sang.  How anyone could NOT have enjoyed that hash, I will never understand.
WANT TO ADOPT A BEACH.  CONTACT DOG LEG.
REMINDER: EFFECTIVE 12/9/00, HASH WILL COST $7.00
WANT TO SURF THE HASH NET.  TRY WWW.HUFFYPUFFY.COM

BRANDY, AKA RANGER, WAS CALLED TO THAT HASH IN THE SKY THIS PAST WEEK AT HER HOME IN CANADA.  FRUIT LOOPS, SPACE CASE, THEIR TWO KIDS AND TWO BOONIE CATS SURVIVE HER. HOWEVER SHE WILL LIVE ON IN THE MEMORIES OF THOSE OF US WHO KNEW HER WELL.

22 hashers showed up at the Bank Of Guam including His Eminence Haj Von Slimetoven, Slimius Maximus, Tyrant Emeritus of the Agana Hash.  We also saw the long missing Punji Boy who lives in Guam now.  There was one FNG named Caroline, who is a Canadian Vet (dog doctor) and who Speed Bump made come. Anyway, the box was announced at the hares were in a big hurry to get us to the box.  So the Tyrant rushed everyone away from the B.O.G. and headed north.  Pitbull showed up at the box late, but did sign in the book so we knew she was there. Once in the box, the hares gave special instructions.  Pink ribbon, flour, and secret, just released documents from the KGB.  The hares left and the Tyrant ‘splained the instructions to the sole FNG.  After the 10-minute head start, the pack was off.  The Tyrant (THINKING) headed straight for the antennae field to re-do the previous Elvis (and Pinnocular) run.  But it was not as the pack hit an on back.  Then the pack went back up the road and some went down the side of the hill to the road below.  Lap Robe walked to the first on back at the Suicide Cliff Road but did not tell any of the FRB’s she ran into on the way back.  Eventually the pack found a checking which took the pack into the jungle on the south side of the road.  The trail went straight up and soon popped out on a farm where the Fajardo family was hard at work clearing land.  Out through their gates, to another checking which took us to the road behind the Marianas Country Club.  FRB Kramden took the lead here and stayed in the lead until the next Checking.  The trail went east up the hill, and continued up.  The trailing hounds caught up to the Tyrant and Jordass when they hit an On Back up near the top of the hill. Marife went up the other trail and found true trail. The Tyrant and Jordass crossed over through the jungle and got back on trail, but not before SCB RAT got in front of them.  There was lots of Barbed wire to cross and some really nasty, cow caca, mushy, mud.  It was here that Jordass dove head first into a big pile of shit.  She dragged herself out of the mud and continued on.  The trail continued up the hill, and it was a tough hill.  There was lots of slipping and sliding, and lots of pulling yourself up with tree limbs and branches.  The trail continued and finally another checking, which split the pack up.  Half the pack went right and the smarter ones (Pinoccular, the Tyrant) went right.  This turned out to be true trail. It was on this trail that the hounds hit a long barbed wire fence.  This is where the hounds found the KGB documents.  Pictures pasted on the wire of previous hashes.  Great photos.  From here the trail came out on another rarely used road and then a checking here split the pack again.  True trail headed up towards the Laderan Tangke trail.  The trail meandered up the cliff line and eventually popped out at the old Marpi Radar Station.  This was the On Home.  A vehicle run was done and while these hounds were away, the stragglers came in. Leetle Cheeken Deek, Marife, Pitbull, and Marife went up into the radar tower and ended up waving at us from the dish.  Pinnocular got the fire started and the Tyrant piped up Religion.  The hares were called forward and talked about how the run came about.  Next visiting VIP Slimey came forward and gave us greetings from the Mother Hash.  He also gave Pinnocular great honor for knowing that a great fire takes lots of work and care.  Next Punji Boy came forward and gave us a story about the first time he ever met Slimey and Oral Fart.  Next, many jokes and courtesies were told for this fabulous run.  It was a magical night and everyone was on.  Marife got up and gave us a trip report from the Agony Hash last week and also told a joke.  Many people got up and told jokes and also courtesies.  But as all good things must do, the night came to an end.  The Tyrant called for policing the area and then Swing Low was sung.  Everyone headed to Hamilton’s except the Tyrant who of course went home.

REMEMBER, IF YOU GO BACK TO THE REAL WORLD AND THERE IS NO HASH, START ONE.  IT IS A GREAT WAY TO MEET PEOPLE AND SOME ONE IS BOUND TO SHOW THEIR TITS ONE OF THESE DAYS.

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM: HAJ, F.KRAMDEN, SIR!!
RA:  HAJJI PEE WEE
AAAARA: DOG LEG
ACTING FIRE MASTER: ELVIS
D.L.MMMM TECHNICIAN: DOGLEG
HASH CASH: CIEGA
TRAIL MASTER: HAJJI PEEWEE
HASH SCRIBE:  YEHUD BARAK

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.$7.00 (NON NEGOTIABLE)

RECEDING HARE LINE
845 1/27/01     SEX
IF YOU WANT TO SIGN UP TO BE A HARE, CONTACT CIEGA.  IT IS A HASHERS DUTY TO BE A HARE.  BE SOMEBODY, SET TRAIL FOR YOUR FRIENDS.

    EDITORIAL
Some times you never know what you are going to see at the Hash.  But this past weekend, instead of a sunset, we got to see a fly by 4 U.S. Navy F-18 Hornets. That is why I hate to miss the hash.  You never know what you are going miss if you don’t show up.  Jet Fighters, Tits, you never know.

 HASH BULLETIN BOARD
Royal Taga Beach Club is under new management and wants to adopt the hash and become THE Apres Hash.  They have outdoor showers if you want to clean off.  I am not making any recommendations; I am just passing on the word.  Give them a call.
WANT TO ADOPT A BEACH.  CONTACT DOG LEG.
REMINDER: EFFECTIVE 12/9/00, HASH WILL COST $7.00
WE MEET AT 3:30 P.M. (until MARCH 2001)
WANT TO SURF THE HASH NET.  TRY WWW.HUFFYPUFFY.COM
 

10 hashers showed up at the Bank Of Guam on an overcast and blustery day.  It rained all morning and I could hear the absent hounds, thinking to themselves, “Hmmmm, Claymore..Kowpaddy…FUCK IT!”  And many did not show up and missed a fairly decent run.  But I digress.  The box was announced and the hounds headed the few blocks over to Chinatown.  We parked by the little shop near the train and the slipped and slid up to the little cave at the top of the hill.  The hares gave special instructions (flour and toilet paper) and then were off.  There were no FNG’s so there was some small talk in the cave and the Tyrant said that since the group was so small, everyone would have to tell a joke at Religion..  Eventually, the ten-minute head start was up and it was time to go.  Half the pack went back the way we came while the Tyrant, Elvis, and Rajneesh went down the backside only to run into the rest of the pack who had gone around the front.  At the first checking by the Sugar King Hotel, the Tyrant checked left while the rest of the pack went up towards the Chinatown Gulley.  An On Back on the road to Morgens brought the Tyrant back and he ran in to Inflatable Slut who was late to the box.  The trail continued up the hill but a checking took us south towards Pelley Enterprises Elephant Quonsets, and then into the jungle behind.  The jungle trail meandered over dead and rotting trees and foliage and was extremely slippery.  We even crossed over some war time flood control ditches, which are still visible in this abandoned area.  Eventually we came out of the jungle near a cave and a small contemplation garden with two small benches.  Then a small walkway took us to a huge No Tell Motel with a leaking septic tank, which was oozing nasty stuff that we had to cross over (Dogleg visited them later in the week and was accosted by a machete wielding Chinaman).  Anyway, the true trail went out to the Gualo Rai loop and then down towards Budweiser.  An arrow here took the pack south again, past Blow Jobs house, around to the Cabrera Mansion, and then up a small dirt road, past some houses, and then backs into the jungle.  We went into the jungle and soon got into the ravine that was the downhill part of the run last week.  In fact, according to the hares, they stumbled on to the hares last week and had to hide so as not to give away this weeks run.  However, the trail, after slipping and sliding up and through a looong on back, eventually came out on the road that leads up to Christmas Overlook which belongs to Juan Sablan.  Down the road and then to an arrow to the little clearing above Kowpaddy and Claymores apartments.  Once everyone was in and a fire was started, the Tyrant piped up Religion.  The hares came forward and then it was time for courtesies.  There were many courtesies to the run and to those Rain Weenies and wankers who did not show up which always makes for a nice toasty hash. Inflatable Slut gave us a trip report about his FREEZING trip to Chicago where he had dinner with Sheep Thrills, One Penis Full, and Outback.  He did not hash however.  Pitbull did not want to drink so showed us her tits when she told a joke. Natasha TRIED to tell a joke that Mr. Happy Pockets had told her, but as the Tyrant said, “Delivery is Everything!”.  Eventually the small group tired of having fun and the area was policed.  The Tyrant called for Swing Low and everyone was almost at Hamilton’s anyway, so that is where they went.  The Tyrant of course, went home.

REMEMBER, IF YOU GO BACK TO THE REAL WORLD AND THERE IS NO HASH, START ONE.  IT IS A GREAT WAY TO MEET PEOPLE AND SOME ONE IS BOUND TO SHOW THEIR TITS ONE OF THESE DAYS.

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM: HAJ, F.KRAMDEN, SIR!!
RA:  HAJJI PEE WEE
AAAARA: DOG LEG
ACTING FIRE MASTER: ELVIS
D.L.MMMM TECHNICIAN: DOGLEG
HASH CASH: CIEGA
TRAIL MASTER: HAJJI PEEWEE
HASH SCRIBE:  YEHUD BARAK

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.$7.00 (NON NEGOTIABLE)

RECEDING HARE LINE
844 1/20/01    OPEN
845 1/27/01     SEX
IF YOU WANT TO SIGN UP TO BE A HARE, CONTACT CIEGA.  IT IS A HASHERS DUTY TO BE A HARE.  BE SOMEBODY, SET TRAIL FOR YOUR FRIENDS.

EDITORIAL
Although the crowd was rather small at the hash this past week, it was a nice, night.  A toasty fire, and beautiful start lit sky.  The company of women and men of like minds.  I feel sorry for those who did not show up, and yet I am grateful that they kept their yakkety yak talk too much during religion asses home.  But hey, we need the money.  With a pack of 30 hounds the hash costs just about $200 per week including drinks, snacks, and etc. The only thing that is free is the entertainment.  Oh, and being a hare.  So do something for free.  Be a hare.

HASH BULLETIN BOARD
Royal Taga Beach Club is under new management and wants to adopt the hash and become THE Apres Hash.  They have outdoor showers if you want to clean off.  I am not making any recommendations; I am just passing on the word.  Give them a call.
WANT TO ADOPT A BEACH.  CONTACT DOG LEG.
DON’T FORGET TOMORROW MORNING AT THE P.I.C. THE START OF THE ANNUAL ISLAND RELAY. 6:00 A.M.
REMINDER: EFFECTIVE 12/9/00, HASH WILL COST $7.00
WE MEET AT 3:30 P.M. (until MARCH 2001)
WANT TO SURF THE HASH NET.  TRY WWW.HUFFYPUFFY.COM

I needed to fill some space and thought this was just the thing.  Oh what a night this was and WHAT A HASH RUN??

26 hounds arrived at the BOG for the Pee Wee combination birthday-Saturday-Full-Moon-run, a welcome change from the rowdy 80 hashers the week before at the 850. As the hounds gathered, so did the clouds, but self-proclaimed meteorologist Dog Leg predicted that the rain would pass quickly. He was to be proven wrong.

Once Hare Pee Wee finally arrived at the BOG, the box was announced to the 26 hashers as Fourth of July Ridge on the Mt. Tapotchau Road, and the pack split up and drove there in 26 individual vehicles. So much for carpooling. Even though the pack was much smaller than last week, they were even more talkative and were taken completely by surprise when Kramden yelled "shorts!" and Pee Wee left the box, completely missing the special instructions, which were not special at all (trail marked in flour only). Kramden ‘splained the instructions to the lone FNG, Rob, while the rest of the pack complained about the cold (???!!!!) which Kramden estimated to be in the mid ‘70’s. Brrrrrrrr!

Out of the box, most of the pack checked right toward Mt. Tapotchau, but Dog Leg had a hunch and went left to the first checking at the turnoff to B-29 ridge, remembering a recent conversation with Pee Wee about a mountain bike trail in here. Sure enough, Dog Leg soon found himself the FRB, alone and in the dark while the rest of the pack fumbled around with the checkings behind him, apparently not trusting him to know The Way. The trail followed this newly-graded road all the way past Pinnocular’s relative’s farm, down the hill past Pinnocular’s 750th boonies, past the new CUC wells, and then into more overgrown territory past the old boonie road to Gualo Rai, and down to the point where the road ends with a chain at someone’s farm. A checking here led over a recently-felled bamboo tree, and onto the Ring Road-proper. This road was much more overgrown and barely consisted of one or two deeply-rutted tracks in most places, but was still clear enough to see in the dark with the help of a flashlight.

Around this road for a while, and a checking to the left that finally screwed Dog Leg up enough to be passed by Lemur and Floorshow, as the trail led back up to Tapotchau past several small farms. At one farm that seemed to consist only of mowed grass and abandoned refrigerators, an unseen local man yelled out "Hey You! You are TRESPASSING!" but the pack continued onward. Eventually this road popped out onto the Main Tapotchau road at the corner just below the final summit climb, where a checking fooled the FRBs into running straight down the road back toward the box (without their flashlights because Floorshow complained it was hurting his night vision), until someone finally asked "hey – have you seen any on-ons?" and they turned back and found the on-home on a big concrete slab in the field back at the checking. A short trail from here led up to a spectacular cliff-top view, a view which revealed the massive rainstorm blowing in from the ocean.

The rain started off light and misty, but by the time of the vehicle run it was heavy and cold. Many people bitched and moaned about the temperature, and a few just went home (wankers!). But the hardy stayed on, and warmed up around a toasty fire Pinnocular and Elvis had started off the edge of the slab in some tall grass (upwind, too). Meanwhile, several other people who did not run the Hash showed up in honor of Pee Wee’s birthday, including Rat, Minnie Pearl, Messiah and Splat. Inflatable Slut also arrived late at the on-home with Venus de Milo, but they had honorably run trail first (at least part of it – after driving their car on trail as far as it would go). Venus at least had the courtesy to show us her tits while Pinnocular roasted her jog bra over the fire. Dog Leg, of course, was not watching.

Co-tyrants Dog Leg and Kramden were eventually pressured into starting religion, and forced everyone to squeeze into an awkward little space at the corner of the slab near the fire. This resulted in an unbalanced crowd arrangement which allowed people like Rat and Minnie Pearl to sit in the back and TALK TALK TALK all through religion. First up, Hajji Pee Wee told us of how busy he had been this week and how much work he had put (not!) into the trail. The FNG was then called forward and tried to claim he was from Saipan, but he was really a school principle from Seattle. Jokes and Courtesies were called for, but not too many people came up again as usual. At Dog Leg’s prompting, Messiah and Splat volunteered to set next month’s Full Moon Run, which will also be a Saturday (April 7), but Ciega was unable to get anyone to sign up for this week’s run (St. Patrick’s day). Several people got up and wished Pee Wee a happy birthday, including Minnie Pearl, which gave us a chance the sing the Hee-Haw song again. Dog Leg told the story of the first trail he set with Pee Wee (a 25-minute full moon run), and how Pee Wee was able to take a crap mid-trail and still beat him in. (Kramden suggested calling him Quick Shit). Jordass announced the March birthdays party at her house on the 18th. Fink (yes! Fink!) announced that he would miss the next run, but be back after that. Pinnocular handed over Firemaster duties to Elvis and Becky while he was gone. After a while no more courtesies were given, and Kramden retired the vessel. The area was policed, and Dog Leg got into an argument with Leave It about throwing Pringles Cans in the fire. (Leave it came back the next day and removed the bottoms). Swing Low was sung, and the fire was thoroughly pissed out. Due to the late hour, everyone split up and went different directions. A few stayed on the mountain for some hot tubbin’ at Dog Leg’s place, but that’s another story….. (good thing Ciega is no longer his landlord).

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM Haj, F. Kramden, Sir!!
RA: Hajji Pee Wee
AAAARA: Dog Leg
FIRE MASTER Pinoccular
HASH CASH Ciega
TRAIL MASTER Hajji Pee Wee
DLMM TECHNICIAN Dog Leg
HASH SCRIBE Larry Flynnt
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. $6.00 (NON NEGOTIABLE)
REMEMBER, IF YOU GO BACK TO THE REAL WORLD AND THERE IS NO HASH, START ONE. IT IS A GREAT WAY TO MEET PEOPLE, AND SOMEONE IS BOUND TO SHOW YOU THEIR TITS ONE OF THESE DAYS.

Announcement!
In case you didn’t notice, the snow has all melted and Spring is here!
Starting next Saturday, March 24, We meet at 4:00!!!

RECEDING HARE LINE...
853 3/24 Chicken Little Dick & Floorshow
854 3/31 Claymore
855 4/7 FULL MOON #58! Splat & Messiah
--- 4/14 Forbidden Island Beach Clean-up, 8:00
856 4/14 OPEN
CONTACT CIEGA TO SIGN UP. IT IS A HASHER’S DUTY TO BE A HARE.
BE A HARE, SET TRAIL FOR YOUR FRIENDS

EDITORIAL

I can’t stand hearing people bitch and moan about oil drilling in the Alaskan National Wildlife Refuge, for the same reason I couldn’t stand to hear the whining from residents of Santa Barbara when I worked in the offshore oil fields there: because these same people get into their cars – alone – every day and commute 30 to 100 miles just so they can live in a nice place. No one wants oil drilling, but everyone wants their cars. This "Not in my backyard" attitude has resulted the destruction of the environment in many third world countries to satisfy do-gooder American pleas to not touch their own precious American Wilderness. Do you think the people in these countries have any say in whether they want their wilderness destroyed so that Biff California can drive his BMW 100 miles back and forth to work every day, with the cool ocean breeze in his pretty blonde hair? The oil’s got to come from somewhere. America is as hooked on oil as a CNMI Customs employee on crystal meth. Imagine giving up your vehicle: "No Fucking way!" you would say. One of these days, there will be no choice but to drill the ANWR, and the rest of the California Coast. Personally, I will not be happy until there’s an oil well in the backyard of every Santa Barbara and LA commuter. Until that time, why in the hell can’t we carpool to the Box? It’s not that big of an inconvenience, and cramming into a vehicle with a bunch of sweaty hashers might even expand your social circle. Make a difference. Carpool at the Hash.

Party!!!!
At Jordass’s place for all the March Birthdays
Sunday, March 18, 5:30 (tomorrow, dummy)
how to get there: drive uphill past Coffee Care like you’re drunk and forget to make the next turn. Go straight on the coral driveway, park on the right and look for the party downhill to the left.

25 hashers showed up at the Bank Of Guam where they were met by three wise hares who were going to lead them on an unusual (BIZARRE AS SOMEONE SAID) hash.  There were two FNG's, Rush and Dana, who the long missing Shlong Thong made come. We also welcomed back RAT who we have not seen in a coons age.   XMAS 2000/re-tread U.S.S. McCain T-shirts were sold and many people got reindeer horns and the hares had Santa hats.  (Mr. Huge even brought an FNG but when she found out we were not going to run in the jungle, she wimped out). As the beer truck went to get ice, the Tyrant 'splained to the assembled that we would be running to different businesses in Garapan singing Christmas Carols. Haj Claymore provided everyone with song sheets so we could all at least be saying the same words.   Since there would be no trail and no 10-minute head start, the pack was off and the first stop was the Oriental Hotel.  As we began to sing, a tall, bearded, European man ran screaming from the building so we figured it was time to leave and did. We then ran across the street to the Basketball court for a beer break and then on to the Hafadai Beach Hotel.  One song here in front of the Christmas Tree, and then the pack stopped for another beer break in the parking lot.  It was here that Mega Wanker Kowpaddy jumped in the vehicle and never got out again, only to slink away BEFORE religion.  From there the pack ran towards the Oriental Hotel, but made an unscheduled stop at Mom's Round Two.  The next day were complimented on our visit by Nola Pangalinen the owner.  After we finished one song, we moved on to the Oriental Hotel.  We were shushed by one of the hares since the lobby opens on to Shirley's Café.  So a sotte voce rendition of one of the songs here and then another beer break.  Next we ran up the street to the Paradise Hotel.  We went into the lobby and there was only one person behind the counter so I think she appreciated the company.  From here a quick command decision to run across the street to CHC.  We stood outside the ER and some people even came out to listen.  Since they did, we sang one song from the song sheet and Father Santa Claus, he had seven elves (sung to and performed to the tune of Father Abraham).  After this it was off to the Victoria Hotel.  As we were entering, a young Chinese girl was going into the stairwell with an older Japanese gent and I figured that this was Victoria's Secret.  One song for the two girls at the counter and one at the tour desk, and it was off to the Hyatt Regency Saipan and erstwhile hasher Double Entry who joined us for two songs in front of the GIANT Hyatt Christmas tree.  This was followed by a run through the lobby and out to the beach for another song for the volleyball players.  From here the pack ran along the beach to poolside at the Dai Ichi.  We were getting better at the songs now and sounding pretty good.  From poolside we ran to the old Chrysler in the lobby and then sang very loud.  Now the tourists were actually taking pictures of us and applauding.  From here it was a quick run to the concert stage in Central Garbage Pan and Head!! Who Said Head??.. to wake up all the bar girls who should have been up putting on their make up by now. From here it was just another short hike to Bobby Cadillacs and more songs for the bar flys.  From here we went to see Berry Big at Monica's Gallerie.  However, we were told that she was next door at DFS so we caught her and her parents outside and trapped them into listening to us).  Now the piece de resistance and a three song chorus at the DFS Galleria.  First we went to the Taxi entrance.  Next we went to the Boutique hallway (where the piano was actually playing a song that we had) to the accompaniment of the piano. We actually got a request for an encore from one of the tourists. The third performance was in front of the Christmas Tree Ornament presentation, and then we went into Hard Rock Café and sang for the customers there.  The on home was supposed to be at the beach next to the Daiichi drainage, but someone said, "We want to swim".  So another command decision was made and the on home was moved to Pau Pau beach.  Once there, the Tyrant drove all the way to the end and found a nice tree that all the gifts and the tinsel that Ciega gave us could be mounted on.  Eventually everyone came in including Beerhead who had not run enough so ran out to the Last Command Post.  The fire was started, Religion was piped to order, and the hares called forward.  Next the FNG's were called up and they confessed that yes, the Merchant Seamen were just like regular sailors and that's how Shlong made them come.  Some courtesies were done and even some jokes.  Blow Job got up and gave us a trip report about the Agony Hash and former Saipan Hasher Dick Chair.  Then the Tyrant called for the opening of the gifts.  First he explained the rules to the assembled and then opened the first gift.  During the early part of the gift giving, no one wanted to take anything from anyone else.  But as the evening wore on it started to get nasty and there was a lot of ripping off of gifts. Eventually all of the gifts were given (and if you want to know what they are you should have come to the hash).  Soon the area was policed, Swing Low was sung, and everyone headed to Hamilton's for some tasty food.  Even the Tyrant went to Ham's to drop some people off, but of course went right home after they alighted from his car.

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM: HAJ, F.KRAMDEN, SIR!!
RA:  HAJJI PEE WEE
AAAARA: DOG LEG
ACTING FIRE MASTER: ELVIS
D.L.MMMM TECHNICIAN: DOGLEG
HASH CASH: CIEGA
TRAIL MASTER: HAJJI PEEWEE
HASH SCRIBE:  SALMON RUSH LIMBAUGH

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.$7.00 (NON NEGOTIABLE)

RECEDING HARE LINE
842 1/6/01    KOWPADDY & HAJ
     CLAYMORE
843 1/13/01    ELVIS & IGOR
844 1/20/01    OPEN
845 1/27/01     SEX
IF YOU WANT TO SIGN UP TO BE A HARE, CONTACT CIEGA.  IT IS A HASHERS DUTY TO BE A HARE.  BE SOMEBODY, SET TRAIL FOR YOUR FRIENDS.

EDITORIAL
I never realized what a talented bunch of people I hang out with on Saturday afternoons. I was really impressed with the singing of some of you guys.  But I would not quit your day job.

 HASH BULLETIN BOARD
WANT TO ADOPT A BEACH.  CONTACT DOG LEG.
DON'T FORGET TOMORROW MORNING AT THE P.I.C. THE START OF THE ANNUAL ISLAND RELAY. 6:00 A.M.
REMINDER: EFFECTIVE 12/9/00, HASH WILL COST $7.00
WE MEET AT 3:30 P.M. (until MARCH 2001)
WANT TO SURF THE HASH NET.  TRY WWW.HUFFYPUFFY.COM

I needed to fill some space and thought this was just the thing.  Oh what a night this was and WHAT A HASH RUN??