Because of Dog Leg and Phlegm Phatale’s wedding, not many people made it to the Bank Of Guam.  However, the box was announced simultaneously at the church AND at the BOG so everyone headed to the American Red Cross to park his or her cars.  Here the COOL shirts were passed out and they were AWESOME!!!  As the true box was announced, and we went to the street behind the Red Cross, the knot of fear in my stomach began to tighten.  I noticed that there were not Twin, BUT QUADRUPLET towers standing before us.  And as we were going up the staircase, I banged my head (and drew blood even BEFORE the has had even started).  Once on top of the building, the hares set fire to a wooden ring that was around the box so were trapped. The Tyrant ‘splained the instructions to the 2 FNG’s, some Canadians that Fartacus had made come, and the hares were off.  After about a minute, we heard explosions, and loud sounds of crashing and smashing. After about 5 minutes, we saw Slimius Maximus running and throwing his bag into the Hare Chariot.  About 2 minutes after this the explosions started and the hares ran out of the building, jumped into the jeep, and off they went.  After the 10-minute head start the pack was off, and we found that the loud banging was the scaffolding that the hares had tipped over to block our exit.  Eventually, we made it out of the building, on the west side, and into the jungle at the base of the hotel.  The trail then continued through the valley below, staying in the jungle area for about ¼ mile.  Eventually, the trail popped out on a dirt road, which led us into the As Perdido road.  From here a checking took the pack into a small jeep trail across the road.  This went into some light jungle and soon we found ourselves on the As Lito Road.  A checking here took the pack straight south towards the church where Dog Leg spoke as a free man for the last time.   Just before the church, there was another checking which took the pack into a Porta-Potty storage facility.  I almost stopped to take a leak.  Eventually the trail took us across a barbed wire fence.  We then followed this out to another road and then into a clearing where there was a radio antenna.  Across this field, we followed toilet paper until we hit another barbed wire fence, where Rude Boy decided to impale himself.  On the other side of the fence was a little bit of rice.  And then there was nothing.  We all stumbled through the boonies, coming upon little bits of rice every now and again, but then nothing.  We would move a few yards and then find some toilet paper.

Beerhead and Salt Pieter circled around the area we were in and ran into the San Antonio Terror, a woman and her three sons, all armed with automatic weapons, wearing balaclavas, and bandoleros (OK, SO MAYBE IT WAS NOT THAT EXCITING).  The woman threatened to have all of the hounds with that group shot.  They had even called the police when the found the satanic flour and toilet paper crosses in the boonies.  So they removed them.  This is why those of us in the jungle could find no trail. However, we figured out the general area where the On Home probably was and just headed in that direction. Out we popped on Fink and Beerhead Road.  The trail went straight down to Beach Road and SCB’s ran straight to the beach just south of PIC. (N.W.A.T.P.I.C.).  The Tyrant followed trail to the beach and ran all the way.  There was a vehicle run done, and then another.  And there was a huge controversy about going back to the Terrorists and negotiating a truce.  Haj Floorshow, at the suggestion of Beerhead (who went with him) went back and rubbed his nose on the old ladies butt and got the SONS to back off.  Eventually we got the fire started and just after dusk, Dog Leg came over in his Tux, and said they were going to eat now (and I said, don’t wait for me, forgetting that I was the Godfather and was supposed to be there for the blessing of the food).  We piped up Religion and got through the hares, the visiting hashers Dick Chair, Slimy, and Rude Boy, and just when we were going to do the FNG’s, HERE CAME THE BRIDE.  The entourage included Fr. Bilotti, Mom and Dad Dog Leg, the matron of honor Joe and the best man, as well as the video and still photo people.  Bob Saggett 2 made a Mwar Mwar out of gloves from the run.  The Tyrant performed the Mattress Monkey ceremony and then the couple was off and back to the party. There were some courtesies and jokes told.  Haj Chicken Lil Dick, as part of his penance to get his Dirt Shirt back, poured beers (through the head of a penis) for all the NOWADS who called for a beer.  (I wonder what the 3rd miracle will be?)  Soon the Tyrant called for policing the area, Swing Low Was sung, and the assembled headed next door to eat gobs of good food and dance the night away.

HASHING AROUND THE WORLD THE YEAR 2002

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM:      HAJ. F, KRAMDEN, SIR
RA:                         DOG LEG
AAAARA:             OPEN
FIRE MASTER: ELVIS
D.L.MMMM TECHNICIAN: DOG LEG
HASH CASH:      CIEGA
TRAIL MASTER:HAJJI PEEWEE
HASH SCRIBE:  CRUDLY MORE & WILDER BILLY
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 HARELINE
913       5/18     ELVIS & BOBSAGGET        BOBSAGGET
914       FM 73 HAJ CLAYMORE AND WEST END BENDER
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 once heard a man who belonged to a Religious Quartet say, “Sometimes I am so full, all I can do is cry”.  As I sat in the front pew at Dog Leg and Phlegm Phatales wedding, I was overcome with this feeling and almost did.  I was not sad at all. I was filled to the brim with gratitude.  Here I was, watching 2 really nice people commit themselves to a loving relationship.  And I got to be a part of it.  I was filled with gratitude because over 14 years ago I chose life over death (an alcoholic death which I knew was coming).  And I am here today because of that choice.  My life is filled with a wife, and children, and a job, and friends, (hash and otherwise). I live on a tropical paradise and get to hang out with you good people every Saturday afternoon.  I am truly blessed.  And for those of you who leave, like the future late Mr. Happy Pockets, I have memories that will last for a lifetime.  Ain’t life grand?!

GOD BLESS AMERICA.  GOD BLESS THE SAIPAN HASH HOUSE HARRIERS.

HASH BULLETIN BOARD
LOOKING FOR VOLUNTEERS FOR THE TAGAMAN TRIATHLON 5/18/2002.  CONTACT TYRANT AT WOLF@SAIPAN.COM OR 236-2540
WANT TO SURF THE HASH NET.  TRY WWW.HUFFYPUFFY.COM
ALSO, MAKE SURE YOU GO TO HUFFYPUFFY.COM AND SIGN ON TO THE NEW LISTBOT AT YAHOO. UNLESS OF COURSE YOU FIND IT TOO INANE!!!!!!