25 hounds showed up at the Bank of Guam, in the dark, including Samurai Hasher Toxic Shock.  We also saw the return of Ong Ong who has not hashed in over a year. (Apparently she and WEB have not had sex in a long time either, they left the box to …you know WINK WINK, saying that he forgot his shoes). There was also an FNG named Jeff.  The hounds announced the box as the Munitions Bunker near the ARFF tower. Once everyone found the box road, we went into the box. The hares gave us special instructions (flour and white tape) and then were off.  While we waited, the Airport police came and checked the vehicles, and even locked them after we left.  The Tyrant then ‘splained the instructions, to the FNG and the visiting hasher.  After the 10-minute head start pack was off in all directions.  True trail went to the south and then looped around the bunker and out the way we came.  A checking at the fence line took the pack north along the airport fence.  A straight run out to the Dan Dan road and we ran into one of the hares coming in the wrong way.  The entire pack turned around and followed, but only the FRB’s were able to keep up with him.  In fact, they ran so fast that they caught up with the beer truck.  And John had to shout so loud at Heavy Flow (who thought they were all captured and would have to drop trou) to stop the truck.  She stopped so suddenly that Fartacus almost ate the back of the pick up.  Meanwhile, the rest of the hounds were on the trail which kind of wound around the hard stands in the jungle behind the Adios Come Again Sign.  Eventually the trail headed out to the ARFF intersection and then nothing.  We ran to the Continental Cargo building and still nothing.  Apparently, had we gone another 50 feet we would have found the trail.  But we had just slogged through 3 inches of water, it was cold, we were damp, and it was raining, and we were so close to the nice dry bunker that those of us who were left returned to the box.  Once in the box, WEB and Ong Ong got in their vehicle and headed to Ladder Beach to see if that was where the on home was.  Soon, lights were seen and the beer truck arrived without anyone’s, so no one had keys to drive their cars. So Heavy Flow was sent back to the on home to get the bags, and got in big fight with MHP who said, FUCK THEM!!!  However, she did get the bags, and the stragglers were rescued.  The on home was a cave to the left of the stairs going down to Ladder Beach. The fire was already started and the cave was warm, but it was still raining inside cave.  Lucky for Kramden he brought his umbrella.  The Full Moon Tyrant, Dog Leg called WEB as his RA and called the hares forward.  MHP came up and made excuses for his virgin co-hare (which means fuck in Spanish), and even John tried to make mumbled excuses for himself.  The indictments and discourtesies, which followed, proved unanimously that the hares made huge mistakes. Next the visiting hasher was called forward.  He thought, regardless of missing the trail and having to be a chariot rider, it was a great run, and we had great Religion.  Dr. Fartacus had sent the FNG to the hospital so he could not be called up. There was a lot of talk, and a lot of singing, and lots of heckling by Kramden. (That is so much more fun than being the object of everyone’s affection). Since it was the full moon run, all hounds were required to do a down down.  The mammarometer was almost off the scale on this night.  All good things must come to an end though, and the tyrant called for policing the area. Once this was done, Swing Low was sung and everyone then headed to dryer parts.  Ciega to McDonalds, some to Hamilton’s, the Tyrant of course, went home.

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM:      HAJ. F, KRAMDEN, SIR
RA:                         DOG LEG
AAAARA:             HAJ CLAYMORE
FIRE MASTER: OLY
D.L.MMMM TECHNICIAN: DOG LEG
HASH CASH:      CIEGA
TRAIL MASTER: DOG LEG
HASH SCRIBE:  CORNHOLIO COBBER

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)

RECEDING HARELINE
950     2/1/03 DOGLEG & ONE HAND FULL & COSTELLO
951          2/8/03      MYSTERY HARE
952          2/15/03    MHP & HEAVY FLOW
                “THE LINGERIE RUN”
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 great to get a trip report from Pinnocular this past week.  I hope that when I am as old and decrepit as he is, I will enjoy life as much as he does.

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

HASH BULLETIN BOARD
NMI Cancer Society getting ready for an overnighter again.  May 10-11.  Hash Team?

SAIPAN TAGAMAN TRIATHLON. LOOKING FOR VOLUNTEERS WITH VEHICLE AND SOME CASH FOR AN AID STATION (GROTTO) CONTACT KRAMDEN

The 10th Annual Tom Picarro Memorial Fun Run will be held on June 21, 2003.  Conact the Tyrant.

TO PUT SOMETHING IN THE TRASH  CONTACT TYRANT AT WOLF@SAIPAN.COM OR 236-2540.
MAKE SURE YOU GO TO HUFFYPUFFY.COM AND SIGN ON TO THE NEW LISTBOT AT YAHOO.

25 hounds, including two tourist Channel watching tourists and 4 Japanese magazine people, showed up at the BOG for what was feared to be another horrible Claymore run.  We also saw the return of the Legendary Mike Fink.  The box was announced as the previous weeks On Home so everyone headed up to San Isidro Chapel.  The box was actually behind the Pala Pala and the special instructions were to follow white flour and white ribbon, and nothing else.  We were also told that arrows were 50%. So once everybody got in the box (including Heinous Anus who got lost coming to the box), the hares were off.  The Tyrant ‘splained the instructions to the FNG’s (although none of them spoke much English) and then the ten minutes was up.  The pack took off immediately towards the road and trail was found in the jungle south of the Chapel, which was the way we came up last week.  There was an arrow here, and this just happens to be the wrong 50%.  Only we did not find this out until the FRB’s hit the back door of McDonalds.  It was here that we lost Mike Fink who made his own trail to Hamilton’s. (Where Ciega picked him up during the vehicle run). Once the hounds found the on back, it was back up the hill to the last checking, which was the checking in front of the chapel.  The pack went in all directions.  True trail went down the main road towards Gualo Rai, however a checking took the pack into the jungle at the first turn before the Hoffschneider compound.  From here we skirted the houses and immediately ran into some old Sugar Train railroad tracks.  Kowpaddy stayed behind with the tourists (READ THAT YOUNG JAPANESE GIRLS) so  (according to him), they would not get lost (WINK WINK).  The trail then meandered through the jungle here, over stiff bamboo like vines, and continuously hugged the cliff line above.  Eventually, the trail popped out on the property of Juan Deda and his water tank on Christmas Ridge.  This is where Ciega took a flyer and got to the On Home right behind Mr. Happy Pockets.  The rest of the pack followed trail on the road to another arrow, which took the pack over to the North face of Kannat Rueda.  Now it was all downhill, and slippery and slidey it was.  More of the same kind of vegetation, but tripping down is a lot harder than tripping up.  Soon however, the trail flattened out and then popped out on to the Christmas Ridge road.  We stumbled upon Claymore’s favorite Oh Home. Ciega was a Big Dog (Large Bitch). Everyone made it in before dark and a vehicle run was done.  Buster Brown began to launch some of the coolest fireworks I have ever seen.  They are called the Triple Orgasm rockets, because it is like coming three times.  You had to see (and hear) them to know what I am talking about.  Once everyone got back, Oly started the fire and the Tyrant piped up Religion.  The hares were called forward and both denied being the brains behind the long on back.  Next visiting Hasher Veltrex was called up and announced that he would be returning to Tokyo after this weeks hash.  Finally the FNG’s were called forward and the Globetrotter people got up and told us about themselves.  Next, the couple who were practicing for their honeymoon got up and did their down downs.  Later on, the groom would come up and tell us that he had proposed to the girl but she refused to marry him, but he guaranteed that the same time next year they would be back AND married (the hash women did their best to get the girl to hold her ground). There were many courtesies and tales from the trail for this run, and Mike Fink even got up and explained AGAIN why he does not hash anymore (and we STILL DON’T UNDERSTAND). The first of three Christmas trees was thrown on the fire and we are all reminded of why it is so exciting. This was the last run for Haj Floorshow and Bob Sagget Bob Sagget who said that this would probably be the last time they come to Saipan (RIGHT!!)  Jordass and  Speed Bump also showed up late after doing some triathlon.  Eventually the area was policed, Swing Low was sung, and everyone went to Hamilton’s, except Mike Fink and the Tyrant, who of course went home.

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM:      HAJ. F, KRAMDEN, SIR
RA:                         DOG LEG
AAAARA:             HAJ CLAYMORE
FIRE MASTER: OLY
D.L.MMMM TECHNICIAN: DOG LEG
HASH CASH:      CIEGA
TRAIL MASTER: DOG LEG
HASH SCRIBE:  CORNHOLIO COBBER

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)

RECEDING HARELINE
949          1/25/03    STANLEY’S BITCH
950     2/1/03 DOGLEG & ONE HAND FULL & COSTELLO
951          2/8/03      MYSTERY HARE
952          2/15/03    MHP & HEAVY FLOW
                “THE LINGERIE RUN”
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

The content of the listbot this week was pretty cool.  It really got lots of responses and that is the way it should be.  We need more midweek interaction like that.  Can’t we start a rumor about someone or something and get a real discussion going.  Remember Berry Big and the cans.  Now that was some heavy talk.

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

HASH BULLETIN BOARD
ANNUAL MVA HALF-MARATHON/10K SOMETIME AT THE END OF JANUARY. CONTACT MVA DIRECTLY.664-3200

TO PUT SOMETHING IN THE TRASH  CONTACT TYRANT AT WOLF@SAIPAN.COM OR 236-2540.
WANT TO SURF THE HASH NET.  TRY WWW.HUFFYPUFFY.COM

20 hardy and hard-core hounds showed up at the BOG in a light drizzle (which would continue the entire hash). Notably absent was rain weenie Cecil B. DeMilks. Notably present was Red Sasquatch who had just (I mean right at that moment) returned from the States and a visit to the folks.  The box was announced as the Commie Pinko front Radio Station at the Northern Happy Asshole College. The crowd headed up the As Terlaje hill and parked in front of the building, in an area known as Dago (pronounced DAAGU).  A hissing sound (heard by Speckled Pecker) found a screw in Claymore’s tire. Ever handy Ladrone pulled out a commercial jack, and a hardy mule kick from Farmer Rajneesh and the tire was off and changed, before the 10-minute head start was half way over.  In the box there was lots of talk and chitchat, and the box breakers went out looking for a place to pee.  There were some College Student Dogs who needed instruction on how to DO IT! And the Tyrant obliged by ‘splaining IT to them.  After the time was up, the hounds were off in many directions, but true trail was out to the main road.  A clusterfuck at the top of the hill finally got cleared when someone went up the hill towards the old El Toro club in Laderan Dan Dan.   The trail passed here and then went into the jungle on the right.  A slippery, wet, vine choked trail, took the pack up to Sabanan Gallego  and the rim of the San Vicente Quarry.  Once at the top, the trail headed down hill, on an even slipperier incline, into someone’s newly cleared property.  It looks like someone is going to have a Noni plantation (at least that is what the signs on the tree said).  Across this mud soaked farm, the packed picked up about 3 pounds extra in mud.  At the edge of the farm was a dirt road which turned into a coral road, (which was relatively new), that went into Kannat Tabla Lichan, up hill and passed in front of the San Pedro Chapel and the Bishops house on Kannat Tabla.  On this road, the stealthy Tyrant shadowed Bob Sagget Bob Sagget and Red Squirrel until they were right next to a puddle.  He pounced and splashed the Red One. The road looped around the back side, and a checking took the pack down into Chalan Kiya.  More slippery, muddy, vine choked trail, and then we were on the road in Chalan Kiya.  We followed the road to the edge of the golf course and then checked right towards the back of
McDonalds. A checking on a back road took us above the Mormon Church and what would become Kannat Tabla Kattan.  This long, winding, rarely used road eventually popped up at the San Isidro Chapel on the slopes of Ogso Tipo Pale. As promised, the hares provided excellent burgers left over from the week before when MHP dropped over from food poisoning. The Webber (provided by Haj Claymore) also did double duty as the fire pit since the ground all around was saturated with water. The last hound was Balls of Steel who is getting heavier and slower the more pregnant she gets.  After everyone got in, and after the vehicle run was done, and after everyone engorged themselves on the burgers, the Tyrant piped up religion.  The hares were called forward and MHP introduced a new toy called the “Skyliner”, which, when spun around, says various hash related sayings (like fuck the hares, or show your tits).  Courtesies were then called for and oddly enough, there were many.  There were also some jokes told, and more courtesies.  Everyone was freezing and wet, but Pissbreak insisted on putting parts of the Christmas tree into the fire so we all got warm.  Red Sasquatch gave us a trip report from the Silicon Valley Hash House Harriers.  He explained that a tree-shaded lane is considered Shiggy in California.  Well I am here to tell you that the muddy muck and mire that we ran through on this particular hash is REAL SHIGGY.  A visiting hasher with an unpronounceable name (given on a full moon run) and who lives in Tokyo, came up and did his down down.  The Tyrant then called for policing the area, and Swing Low was sung.  The assembled headed to Hamilton’s or, like the Tyrant, went home.

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM:      HAJ. F, KRAMDEN, SIR
RA:                         DOG LEG
AAAARA:             HAJ CLAYMORE
FIRE MASTER: OLY
D.L.MMMM TECHNICIAN: DOG LEG
HASH CASH:      CIEGA
TRAIL MASTER: DOG LEG
HASH SCRIBE:  J.R.R.R.TOLLBOOTH

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)

RECEDING HARELINE
948          1/18/03    MR. HAPPY POCKETS  FM
949          1/25/03    STANLEY’S BITCH
950     2/1/03 DOGLEG & ONE HAND FULL & COSTELLO
951          2/8/03      MYSTERY HARE
952          2/15/03    MHP & HEAVY FLOW
                “THE LINGERIE RUN”
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

The last time I can remember it raining so hard on the hash, was many years ago and the hare was Rajneesh (who did not send out the mercy truck until 9pm).  He could not believe that the hounds could not find his trail (WHAT TRAIL?). Funny that he happened to be on this run too?  You don’t suppose he is bad luck or something do you?

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

HASH BULLETIN BOARD
ANNUAL MVA HALF-MARATHON/10K SOMETIME AT THE END OF JANUARY. CONTACT MVA DIRECTLY.664-3200

TO PUT SOMETHING IN THE TRASH  CONTACT TYRANT AT WOLF@SAIPAN.COM OR 236-2540.
WANT TO SURF THE HASH NET.  TRY WWW.HUFFYPUFFY.COM

60 regular and ersatz hashers showed up at the BOG for what was billed as the last run of the year.  Almost the entire NMITF (at least the Bad Boys) showed up along with Visiting Hashers Rude Boy, Ball Breaker and Big Ears (visitors from the previous week), and all manner of backslider.  Also, the entire Blackburn family was there. The box was announced and the assembled headed east.

The box was a cattle chute that leads to the JHS baseball field), the Tyrant ‘splained the instructions to FNG’s, namely Andy, Erma, Mestiza, stopping only to get special instructions from the hares and starting the clock. After the hares left, he read the instructions which were convoluted and with the attention span of this crowd a waste of time.

When the 10-minute head start was over, the pack took off on to the main road and headed immediately towards Forbidden Island.  A checking at the first intersection took us to a back road and then into the jungle, just before “PRECIOUS’s” house.  This is the German Shepherd that really likes Dog Leg.  From here we went into some beautiful limestone forest.  For those of you who are not familiar with this, it is hard, and sharp, and contains lots and lots of thick, ankle twisting vines.  Many people took their first wounds on this part of the trail.  This was also where everyone had to squeeze through a pair of rocks with only inches to spare.  From here the trail meandered in what almost felt like figure 8’s, with FRB’s hearing hounds all around and in all directions.  Soon the pack came to a checking which had the FRB’s coming back from an on back called by Messaiah, and running into the back of the pack. More searching until it was discovered that the On Back was just a mistake, and would cause Messaiah much humiliation at Religion.

The pack followed true trail here and we started down a steep incline.  Into some more sharp limestone and eventually into the cave, which was approximately 30 feet long, and about 20 feet wide, and opened at both ends.  Out of the cave and the meandering up and down began again.  After about 58 minutes in the jungle, we came upon a 30 ft extension ladder tied into the side of a cliff.  A sign on the ladder told the pack to turn right at the top of the ladder, and head back out and pick up trail on the road.  Most of the hounds did this, including Phlegm Phatale and Cracker Jack.  The blonde hair on the one does not explain the behavior of the other (PP).  But somehow, they got off trail and were lost until after dark.  True trail went out to the road and then past Precious, and then on to Tank Beach.  Once most of the hounds were in, a couple of vehicle runs were done and a fire started.  The Tyrant piped up Religion and the hares were called forward.  Next the visiting hashers got up and explained how much better this weeks run was than last week.  FNG’s (those who did not sneak away) came forward and did not embarrass themselves or those who made them come.  There were many courtesies to the run and many indictments told, along with tales from the trail.  The NMITF Bad Boys just would not let go of the Macho shit caused when Messaiah called on back and then just kept going, leaving his cronies behind.  All during Religion Buster Brown did the Blowjob honors of dropping wads of firecrackers on the fire.  In fact, Abbott was so upset she actually subscribed to the Listbot, bitched, and then unsubscribed.   Because he kept showing his ass during religion, John Cramer became Heinous Anus. Cracker Jack got up to explain that she and Phlegm Phatale had been kidnapped by aliens, who resembled Saipanda, and that is why they were late getting to the On Home.  There was so much talking that the Tyrant called for policing the area and Swing Low was sung. A huge was of unexploded firecrackers which had been put in water in the cooler was dumped on the fire, and then some tree hugging pinheads poured water on the fire instead of letting it burn.  But Mega Tree Huggers Rajneesh and Cecil B. Demilks came back the next day and cleaned up the mess.  We would not want to upset his Excellency the Secretary of Lands and Natural Resources.  The Tyrant of course went home.

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM:      HAJ. F, KRAMDEN, SIR
RA:                         DOG LEG
AAAARA:             HAJ CLAYMORE
FIRE MASTER: OLY
D.L.MMMM TECHNICIAN: DOG LEG
HASH CASH:      CIEGA
TRAIL MASTER: DOG LEG
HASH SCRIBE:  B.B.T.PIRATE

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) DEADBEATS OF THE WEEK WERE MUTT AND BURNING BUSH!  PAY YOUR 10 BUCKS!!!

RECEDING HARELINE
946          1/04/03    Dog Leg
947          1/11/03    OPEN
948          1/18/03    MR. HAPPY POCKETS  FM
949          1/25/03    STANLEY’S BITCH
950     2/1/03 DOGLEG & ONE HAND FULL & COSTELLO
951          2/8/03      MYSTERY HARE
952          2/15/03    MHP & HEAVY FLOW
                “THE LINGERIE RUN”
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

Monumental.  That is one way to describe this past weeks run.  I was so very sorry to hear though, that the legendary Hashimoto no longer lurks in the jungles overlooking Forbidden Island.  He has been returned to his homeland.  Just know that even though he died in battle over 50 years ago, he was briefly brought back to life by hashers who truly understand tradition.

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

HASH BULLETIN BOARD
ANNUAL MVA HALF-MARATHON/10K SOMETIME AT THE END OF JANUARY. CONTACT MVA DIRECTLY.664-3200
TO PUT SOMETHING IN THE TRASH  CONTACT TYRANT AT WOLF@SAIPAN.COM OR 236-2540.

WANT TO SURF THE HASH NET.  TRY WWW.HUFFYPUFFY.COM

About 20 hard-core hashers showed up at the BOG for the annual Christmas Carol and Gift Exchange Run.  There were visiting hashers from Guam; Slimius Maximus, Korea; Big Ears and Ballbuster, FNG’s Jason (pronounced Jyson) and Linda. The music sheets were passed out and photo (see below) taken.  The Tyrant announced the first stop as the Ocean View Hotel.  There were a couple of people sitting in the lobby and two behind the counter.  They were happy to see us come, but after we sang, happier to see us go.  Next we ran to Mom’s Round Two where the usual bar flies were hanging on to the bar.  Don the owner came out of the back room to listen to us, as he does every year.  Next we ran the back roads to Oriental Hotel, where we passed out the first of the candy to the little girls (the ones under 18).  We performed a song in the lobby, where we were just getting our voices and pitch, and then we were off to lower M.I.H.A.  Here we ran into many small children and sang at a Cul De Sac.  One child, when approached by the huge ungainly Red Sasquatch ran away screaming.  We asked Dog Leg to reconnoiter a way around or over the fence to get to the hospital, and then went down the hill for a photo op with some kids. Then up to the hole in the fence where a man, (after we offered his kids some candy) began to speak in tongues.  We ran over the heli-pad to the front of the emergency room and sang a song while Ciega tried to keep the door open.  As we were rounding the building, someone invited us into a back door, and we found ourselves in the dialysis unit of CHC.  The place was packed with people hooked up to machines, covered in blankets, having their blood cleaned.  What I thought would be a big joke suddenly turned serious.  They seemed to appreciate the song and thanked us for it, but we got the hell out of there right quick.  Next we ran to the Tennis courts where we serenaded some of the players with Jingle Bells (which was not on the list that Claymore had typed from memory).  From here we went to the firehouse where we sang “OH CUM all ye faithful” in honor of the firemen that Kramden caught watching porno movies two weeks ago. After this we went to the Hyatt of the lobby where we started to pass out candy to the bigger girls.  From here we ran to the pool, sang some songs and did not NOT NOT NOT push anyone in the pool like last year.  We then ran up the beach to the Dai Ichi where some big girl kids refused the candy proffered by Mr. Happy Pockets.  At the pool we did another set and thrilled all the little kids and their mommies and daddies.  From here it was out to Central Garbage pan and a song for 3 masseuses, who tried to sing along with Kramden conducting.  Then we went to the Koban, assumed the position and sang OH CUM again in honor of the Department of Pubic Safety.  Then the BIG PRODUCTION OF “OH LITTLE TOWN OF BETHLEHEM” and HEAD!  WHO SAID HEAD!!, the whores across the street.  Next we went to Loco Boutique to sing to Miharu and the Big Busted girls of the shop.  We had another photo op with Miharu on Red Sasquatches knee and he asked for more photos (I’M GONNA TELL RED SQUIRREL!!).  Next, the coup de gras, the piano at the DFS Galleria.  Kramden set it at a song, which was not in the book, but most remembered.  From here we ran out to the cars, and up to the clearing above Claymore’s house for the Christmas gift exchange.

A fire was started, Religion was called to order, a late arriving Cracker Jack was verbally abused to pay her Ten Bucks, and the hares were called forward.  The Tyrant tried to impress upon the group the importance of Tradition.  Next the honorable Haj Von Slimetoven got up and talked about how much he appreciated tradition.  After this the visiting Brits from Korea came up and talked about how much the run sucked.  Next the FNG’ came up and we did NOT NOT NOT get to see some enormous hooters.  After some jokes and some courtesies, the Tyrant retired the vessel and the gift giving began.  It was pretty mild in the beginning but got pretty vicious near the end when the good stuff started coming out.  If you were not there you will never know what kind of cool stuff there was.  Next year you will know better.  The area was policed, Swing Low was sung, the fire put out, and the assembled headed to Hamilton’s, except for the Tyrant, who of course, went home.

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM:      HAJ. F, KRAMDEN, SIR
RA:                         DOG LEG
AAAARA:             HAJ CLAYMORE
FIRE MASTER: OLY
D.L.MMMM TECHNICIAN: DOG LEG
HASH CASH:      CIEGA
TRAIL MASTER: DOG LEG
HASH SCRIBE:  DOLRES GOOMBA

RECEDING HARELINE
946          1/04/03    Dog Leg
947          1/11/03    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

I must give great honor to Ciega for having her open house this past Christmas day.  For those of you who do not know, her husband of almost 30 years passed away that morning.  Many of you did not know Jim or his story.  It is too long and varied to put in here.  Just keep Ciega and her family in your prayers.

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

HASH BULLETIN BOARD

TO PUT SOMETHING IN THE TRASH  CONTACT TYRANT AT WOLF@SAIPAN.COM OR 236-2540.
WANT TO SURF THE HASH NET.  TRY WWW.HUFFYPUFFY.COM

19 hounds showed up at the Bank of Guam including fat beer truck driving tourist Haj, Floorshow (where DOES he get those costumes?) for the 18th Birthday of the Hash.  Capt. Gary of the MV Tight Ass was also there, and brought FNG Greg.   A Balls of Steel Less Marlboro Man was also there.  We also had visiting Hasher Slimius Maximus show up.  Many people were there but complained that they would have to leave Religion because they had to go to a party.  The box was announced and the assembled headed north.

As Ciega was driving in Achugao, she saw a line of cars (including Mr. Happy Pockets) parked on the side of the road.  All of a sudden, her cell phone rang.  Seems one of the hares did not know how to get to the box.

The box was the beach behind the Gregorio T. Camacho Elementary School.    After the 10-minute head start, the pack was off.  A checking at the main road took the pack in all directions.  Pissbreak started up the Paradise Valley Road, took two steps, and then turned around and said, “nothing here.”  Kramden checked right to an On Back, someone else checked left.  Nothing.  Back up the Paradise Valley Road and true trail.  The trail followed the flood control baffles into the valley.  Eventually, the trail edged toward the north face of the valley. The trail went almost straight up.  There was still water from the previous weeks of rain and still a bit slick.  This was a really hard climb but eventually it came out at the intersection, which goes either down to Talofofo, left to the Radar Station, or right to Mt. Suu Suu. True trail went to Mt. Suu Suu and FRB’s Tupper butt and Kramden headed out towards Mt. Suu Suu.  The trail went out on to Wireless Road and soon they found the checking at the Xterra Bike Trail.  From here it was a straight run down to the Hidden Beach Road and a checking to Hidden Beach.  The hares were waiting at the beer truck for someone to carry the coolers and stuff down to the beach.  Once the vehicle run was done and the few REAL hashers returned, it was after dark.  Haj, Claymore took care of getting the fire going (and obnoxiously kept throwing SMOKING coconuts) and also stood in for Dog Leg who had a party to go to.  The hare were called forward and blew great deals of smoke up the missing ass of his co-hare (which means fuck in Spanish).  Next visiting hasher Hajj Von Slimetoven told us how terrible it was in Guam and how he was up here to work.  We then called the FNG up and he did not disgrace himself or Captain Gary.

Then the Tyrant called for courtesies.  There were many to this run.  It was done at the last minute, and it had everything.  It had a beach.  It had a ravine.  It had Cow shit.  It had red dirt.  It had mud.  It had slicker than cat shit river rocks.  It had humungous up hill.  It had fast and treacherous downhill.  It had in short, it all.  No one complained at all about the run.

Next there were a few jokes told.  Then more courtesies were done.  Dog Leg announced the time and venue for the Thursday night Full Moon run (which turned out to be on Wednesday.  The Tyrant got a new robe, while the old robes have gone to the Full Moon Hash. Eventually the vessel was retired and the carrot cake, which the hares had purchased that, said “HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAIPAN HAFH HOUSE HARRIERF”.  It may not have looked good, but it sure did taste good.  The area was policed, Swing Low was sung, and the same people who fell down the hill carrying the coolers at the beginning fell UP the hill on the way out.  Capt. Gary backed his truck into the trees above the Pig Stink Ravine and the truck had to be manhandled by Red Sasquatch, the Tyrant, and Chef Greg to get it back on the road.  Everyone headed to Hamilton’s to finish the cake.  The Tyrant of course went home.

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM:      HAJ. F, KRAMDEN, SIR
RA:                         DOG LEG
AAAARA:             HAJ CLAYMORE
FIRE MASTER: OLY
D.L.MMMM TECHNICIAN: DOG LEG
HASH CASH:      CIEGA
TRAIL MASTER: DOG LEG
HASH SCRIBE:  JIGGLY GIGGLY

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)

RECEDING HARELINE
945         12/28    Bob SaggetBob Sagget & Haj
                            Floorshow
946          1/04/03    Dog Leg
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 give Great Honor to the hares.  Now that you know what 2 people can do, in two hours, with very little thought, you (THAT’S RIGHT, I’M TALKING TO YOU!) should get off of your collectively fat Asses and volunteer to be a hare.  Dog Leg should not have to draw up a receding hare line that make people uncomfortable. He should be fighting people off.  Why, Haj Claymore and I have been planning this week’s run ALL YEAR!  Come on folks, it is time to put your flour where your mouth is.  If everyone who was a hound last week signed up to be a hare, we would have half of 2003 covered.

We were truly blessed this week by the presence of Slimius Maximus.  Even though he was escaping from the uncomfortable living conditions in Guam.

Last but not least, on December 15, 1984, the Saipan Hash House Harriers was founded.  On December 15, 1987, I took my last drink of alcohol.  Some of you remember me from before.  Most of you don’t.  I think most of you like me as I am now.  Thanks for being a part of my life.

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

HASH BULLETIN BOARD
THE ANNUAL ISLAND RELAY IS COMING UP ON DECEMBER 28, 2002.  MEET AT THE P.I.C. AT 5:30 AM ON THIS DATE, WITH YOUR 5 MAN TEAMS, AND YOUR DECORATED VEHICLE.  COST IS APPROX. $5 PER PERSON
CONTACT TYRANT AT WOLF@SAIPAN.COM OR 236-2540.
WANT TO SURF THE HASH NET.  TRY WWW.HUFFYPUFFY.COM 

24 hashers showed up at the Bank of Guam one of the fuckiest runs I have been on in a long time.  Included was visiting hasher Patrick Mari and John Cramer. The box was announced and was great.  Overlooking the northern end of the island, we saw a great squad of sea turtles who had been chased out of their cave dwellings, by the huge seas.  They were all bodysurfing about 300 feet out from the cliff.  It was so KEWL!!!  The hares explained that Floorshow had chopped off his fingers so went to the hospital to get help and that is why he was not at the box.  Since there were no FNG’s everyone watched the hare run out to the main road and almost get run over by Maxchismo.  Then we watched him run east towards the old Japanese runway.  After the 10-minute head start the pack was off.  We all followed the way the hare went and eventually went straight east on the farm road.  The trail cut into the jungle on the left and continued along the jungle, past some really awesome caves, and eventually ended up near the first of the legacy’s left on this trail.  It was Larry Hillbloom’s cigarette boat, which languishes in the jungle of Cow Town.  Somewhere in there the trail was supposed to go somewhere, (this is where Legacy number 2, Floorshow’s severed skin, was found) but it did not and the FRB’s ended up going to Cow Town Beach, and then running west along the cliff line, until they came back.  Here they ran into Haj, Fucking Kramden, Sir! and Cracker Jack.  These two had left the pack at the checking into the jungle, along with Tupperbutt and Splat, and went over the barbed wire fence.  They followed the fence line and sporadically saw pink ribbon on the other side of the fence.  However, the fence started turning south and the SCB’s ended up on the main road, and ran past the new dump all the way to Cow Town Beach.  Nothing.  NADA!  Except bits and pieces of Crapper Don’s Four Runner, another legacy left from looking for trail.  So we all backed tracked into Cow Town proper and still found nothing.  So, we all started back up the road and stumbled into Crapper Don.  He told us where the on home was and we ran back to the entrance of the new landfill, where, across the street, was a coral quarry where the on home was. A worried Tupperbutt was the last one in after he went out again looking for Tupperbutt Junior, who had the good sense to stay with the Tyrant once the pack got all screwed up.  A fire was built by a whining Oly behind a big wall of dirt because it was TOO WINDY (FAG!). Eventually the vehicle run returned and Religion was piped up.  The hares were called forward, and a bandaged Haj Floorshow came up and gave us the story of how he cut off his fingers. (Almost, which means he can’t have sex for a while).  Next Crapper and Ladrone got up and lied about why the run was so fucked up.  Crapper also got up and gave us the story of his flying vehicle which landed on it’s side in the jungle.

What were you tinking nai!?? Asked the Filipino laborer who came to help the tow truck pull him out.  Visiting Hasher, Patrick, ex Agony, ex Phuket hash got up and did his down down.  He was here visiting John Cramer who last ran the hash Lap Robe was a teenager.  There were some courtesies to the run, for those who actually found true trail.  There were some complaints from some who wanted to know why they fucked it up so bad.  There were a few jokes told.

There was no food, besides the regular hash snacks, so everyone was hungry and the Tyrant called for policing the area.  Swing Low was sung, and the assembled headed for Hamilton’s for dinner.  The Tyrant of course went home.

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM:      HAJ. F, KRAMDEN, SIR
RA:                         DOG LEG
AAAARA:             HAJ CLAYMORE
FIRE MASTER: OLY
D.L.MMMM TECHNICIAN: DOG LEG
HASH CASH:      CIEGA
TRAIL MASTER: DOG LEG
HASH SCRIBE:  JIGGLY GIGGLY

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)

RECEDING HARELINE
944         12/21    Haj Fucking Kramden, Sir! &  Claymore
945         12/28    Bob SaggetBob Sagget & Haj
                            Floorshow
946          1/04/03    Dog Leg
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

Our dear friends in Guam got trashed last weekend. And we here on Saipan dodged yet another bullet.  It has been 16 years since the last big typhoon that I can remember.  It is not the typhoon so much as the aftermath.  The “no power and water” for weeks on end.  One good thing though, there are all sorts of NEW trails in the jungles and gulleys in Guam now.  Storms will do that.

Early Sunday morning I got a blast from the past.  Laprobe and Fuu Fuu called me (it was December 7 their time and I guess they were thinking about islands).  They really miss the Saipan Hash (only that part of Saipan) and all of the friends that they had here.  They said to say hello.  So, HELLO!

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

HASH BULLETIN BOARD CONTACT TYRANT AT WOLF@SAIPAN.COM OR 236-2540.
WANT TO SURF THE HASH NET.  TRY WWW.HUFFYPUFFY.COM 

20 hashers showed up at the Bank of Guam for the return of Haj Floorshow and the hareing once again of Mr. Happy Pockets in lieu of an ailing Beerhead. The box was announced as the Road to Jeffries beach, and so we all headed down the Esco’s road to park on the side of the road.  We also stumbled on a perfect example of why DLNR wants to keep people out of those hard to go places.  A whole bevy of Korean operated SUV’s on an adventure tour.  Imagine what they could do if there was a road to Old Man by the Sea or all the way down to Forbidden.

Anyway, we slogged around the mud and then dropped into the Talofofo creek bed.  After the hares left, the Tyrant ‘splained the instructions to the FNG’s who were Yuichi and Mari, Matt and Tara, also visiting Hasher Mr. Fuck Face.  The hares announced that there would be toilet paper and pink ribbon.  After the 10-minute head start, the pack was off and out on to the main road.  A checking split the pack and then FRB’s Kramden and Mr. Fuck Face checked south and hit another check at the little farm access road.  The trail went directly down into the Talofofo River and then it was all up hill from then on.  Since it has been raining so much lately, the creek was full of water.  There were also shrimp, eels, and beautiful waterfalls. There was much slipping and sliding.  There were places where the water was up to the Tyrant’s chest.  Fortunately for him, there were some FNG’s who stayed with him and kept him from drowning. Eventually the trail popped out  just below the Bank Houses on Y.W.A.M. Chicken Ranch Road.  From here it was a quick jog over to Wireless Rad and the Magellan Hotel.  Some of the FNG’s who passed the Tyrant, ended up running past the arrow at the entrance and went all the way to the end of Wireless Road.

Once inside the compound, the hounds were feted to a big pot of home made chili as well as regular hash snacks.  We also got to take showers and jump into the swimming pool.  Eventually the hares went out on a mercy mission and picked up a couple of hounds who were to faggy to finish the run (FNG Yuichi and Claymore).  Once everyone was in, a retarded boy who lives at Magellan, helped carry the pallets down the hill to wear the fire would be.  A vehicle run was done, and once everyone was back, Religion was piped to order. First the hares were called forward and they talked about Beerhead who bailed on them.  They talked about the blessed Ciega who made the Supreme Sacrifice and drove the beer truck and well as making a Chili Run to MHP’s house.  The visiting hasher Mr. Fuck Face was called forward and said his home kennel is the Las Vegas Hash House Harriers although he started with the Agana HIV.  Next the FNG’s were called forward, and we actually have some non-Canadian health care professionals on Saipan, who Heavy Flow made come.  Next the tourist FNG’s came forward, and although this was not their first time to Saipan, it was their first hash.  The guy said it was tiring, but the girl thought it was most excellent.  Courtesies were done to the run, and most people thought it was pretty good.  Of course the hares had pre-warned everyone to bring flashlights and come to the BOG early. Some jokes were told, the retarded boy had to be repeatedly told NOT (not not) to clean up the cans until we were done with Religion. Some more jokes, some more courtesies, Kowpaddy tried to keep the drinking going, but soon the Tyrant called for policing the area, and then Swing Low was sung.  Everyone decided to go to Hamilton’s even though they could hardly breathe from all the chili and snacks.  The Tyrant of course went home.

MISMANAGEMENT
TYRANT/GM:      HAJ. F, KRAMDEN, SIR
RA:                         DOG LEG
AAAARA:             HAJ CLAYMORE
FIRE MASTER: OLY
D.L.MMMM TECHNICIAN: DOG LEG
HASH CASH:      CIEGA
TRAIL MASTER: DOG LEG
HASH SCRIBE:  BORSCHT CINTURON

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)

RECEDING HARELINE
942         12/07    Ladrone
943         12/14    Haj Floorshow
944         12/21    Haj Fucking Kramden, Sir! &  Claymore
945         12/28    Bob SaggetBob Sagget & Haj
                            Floorshow
946          1/04/03    Dog Leg
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

This past weeks run was up there with the legendary variety.  It reminds me of the old days when nothing was impossible as far as setting a trail.  Was it hard?  You bet.  Was it wet?  You bet.  Was it dangerous (LEPTO-FAGS)?  Not really.  But it was well thought out, well laid, and really kept us off of the pavement, which we have become so accustomed to lately.

I do not agree with what the Secretary of DLNR is doing, because it is an affront to me and the rest of you.  He should just charge the eco-terrorists a fee (I am sure each one of those passengers paid a good $75 each for the trip).

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

HASH BULLETIN BOARD CONTACT TYRANT AT WOLF@SAIPAN.COM OR 236-2540.
WANT TO SURF THE HASH NET.  TRY WWW.HUFFYPUFFY.COM

How much is Too Much?  How long is Too Long?  (ladies, please!  I’m so embarrassed!)  Answers to these and many other stupid questions would be forthcoming for the 24 hounds (and one embryo) who showed up to run Xterriers Saint Peter and Fartacus’s trail.  Included among the crowd were returning Hashers Bush Fire and Punjie Boy, who will apparently be Hashing with us once a month now that he counts dead birds for the Navy. Conspicuously absent for the SECOND TIME IN NOVEMBER was Haj F. Kramden, Sir!! who had a “prior engagement.”   After an initially late arrival at the BOG, the hares wasted no time in forcing the pack to get on the road to the Box, just as I will waste no time in getting right down to the details of the run, because to the length and complexity of the trail ahead.  But none of us knew that at the time.

At the Box, Kowpaddy discovered he had forgotten his shoes, and became the instant beertruck driver.  This freed up Pegasus to run with us, but we were unable to get any useful information from her.  Special instructions were unremarkable, and the hares claimed later that they had warned us to bring flashlights, but no one heard it if they did.  The trail that followed was sooo long and the tales from the trail sooo varied that the best I can do here is group them into three “trails”, roughly equivalent to where the FRB’s expected on-homes to occur, and roughly equivalent to three “normal” 45-minute trails.

Not wanting to waste any more time, especially with people (including himself) beginning to grumble about “prior engagements” and no vehicle run, Dog Leg called Religion to order with Claymore as RA.  The hares were called forward to explain themselves.  Saint Peter admitted no guilt, but Fartacus made it more than clear that he deserved all the “credit”.  Punjie Boy was called up next as a visiting hasher (now a returning hasher) and told one of his usual, excellent jokes.  Many tales from the trail were told, courtesies to what really was a nice trail, and a few good jokes, but no one could remember a longer trail (except perhaps the 777) and people were so completely exhausted that things quickly slowed down.  However, West End Bender got impatient with even this rapid close of festivities, and a vehicle run was organized against the protests of Tyrant Dog Leg, who said religion was almost over anyway, why not just wait and get everyone out?  But alas, exhaustion is a funny thing and there was no stopping the vehicle run.  Despite some last minute attempts by Red Sasquatch to obtain the shorts he should have grabbed when he had the chance, the vessel was retired, and the remaining crowd settled in for the long wait.  After about 40 minutes of telling jokes and drinking beer, a whopping two (2) vehicles returned to get everyone else out.  This meant that a few unfortunate bastards (like me) had to slog their way out through the mud again so they could ride back in Fartacus’s truck, which was waiting on the paved road.  By then it was something like 10:00, so only a few headed to Hamilton’s, and most headed home or to their own “prior engagements.”

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:                               OPEN
FIRE MASTER                      Olie
HASH CASH                         Ciega
TRAIL MASTER                    Dog Leg?
DLMM TECHNICIAN            Dog Leg
HASH SCRIBE                     NOT Sea Ray….
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 YOU THEIR TITS ONE OF THESE DAYS.

RECEDING HARE LINE...
942      12/7     Ladrone & Floorshow
943      12/14   Floorshow & Floorshow
944      12/21   Messiah & Floorshow
945      12/28   Bob Saggett & Floorshow
946      1/4       Dog Leg & Floorshow
947      1/11     OPEN (& Floorshow)
CONTACT CIEGA TO SIGN UP.  IT IS A HASHER’S DUTY TO BE A HARE.
BE A HARE, SET TRAIL FOR YOUR FRIENDS

EDITORIAL

There’s not much room for an editorial this week so I will only say that I am still tired from last week’s run, but it was a very scenic trail and a very memorable one.  It appears this week’s hares have more of the same in store for us.  God help us all.