AGM Full Moon Guy Burning Run
By Prison Break
This was my first N2TH3 run, as I’m a cherry-picking tart, and I choose Hashes like I choose women, whichever is closest at the end of the night. After sorting through the wreckage of the N2TH3 Yahoo Group message board, which has more info related to Shek Kong hash, I discovered that the run was up the hill from my place. Perfect, just close enough for me to stumble home.
When I arrived, there were a handful of older white gentlemen in short shorts (One Eyed Jack, Stingray, G-Spot, Shamus O’Pressed, Serbian Bomber), younger Chinese ladies in long shorts (TV Tits, Golden Jelly), and Plod dressed like an alcoholic Ip Man. Velcro treated us to a PG-rated strip tease, two thumbs up. And Ah Duck tried his best to impersonate a Shaolin monk. We were joined later by 2firty (Tooth Hurty?) who came in a fancy Jag that once down the hill would remain for the night (more later). Then arrived the psychedelic Scooby Doo Van, with Shaggy, Mango and the Salesman. Apparently this was Salesman’s first run with the N2TH3, despite being its GM. Finally our favorite Japanese rambo Catch of the Day arrived in time for the start.
The Hare was Gunpowder Plod, he was attempting a record of haring every Hash in Hong Kong in one week. He said it was for charity, but we all know it was his effort to push Little Red Swear Books and Sai Kung calendars on the thrifty hashers. He made a perfect garden complete with lanterns, bonfire and an effigy for the burning of catholics named Guy.
Misinstructions were given, but these wouldn’t be too helpful. Because most of the pack was unaware that they were going to run in same area as Monday Hong Kong Hash, Sunday Shek Kong, and Saturday Sai Kung, so there was going to be a lot of confusion on the checks. FRBs confused by checks that were already solved by some ghost runner from the past. Graveyards with well marked trails of arrows in intersecting directions. At one intersection, Mango asked how I was sure I was going the right way. I explained that it must be correct since it’s the only way I haven’t been yet this week.
The cool air inspired the FRBs to fly ahead, but Plod’s confusion-inducing checks did their job of keeping the pack together. There was a nice amount of shiggy and hill work, a rock scramble and an endless number of angry villagers and dogs upset by our presence. All of the runners missed a shrine of candles and beer left on trail by Pissed Up Principal, as an offering to the pagan AGM festivities. Most of the FRB rambos assumed they knew the way, ignoring arrows and doubling back on to the wimps trail. Meanwile, the fit, sexy and spiritually pure FRBs stayed on true rambo trail and pressed forward. Prison Break, Catch of the Day and Ah Duck came in well ahead of the lesser rambos Mango, Salesman and Shaggy.
The pack had grown much larger with the arrival of Golden Balls and the other well dressed non-runners, Simon and Din Din. Then Pissed Up Principal in a lovely dress arrived after she heard there was a box of wine waiting for her.
The GM got the festivities started by setting the Guy on fire and then admiring its wooden penis while describe the many ways he would have sex with it. Plod had stuffed the Guy with whizzbangs and once the fire began we could see that he had built the bonfire on someone’s grave. Golden Jelly then spent the entire circle as fire warden to prevent us from burning down the forest, and to dry off after getting soaked falling in the river on the run.
Simon was made the beer bitch for being so well dressed. However, after about a dozen down downs the circle realized that he had been serving us non-alcoholic beer the entire time. Salesman reacted as if he’d seen a particularly loathsome verminous creature and stomped the downdowns violently while calling for the circle to start again.
The circle culminated with Simon being named Nine Ignorant Cox after some pseudocanto doggerel from Liberace. Then it was the elections. Salesman looked a bit distracted, then named random people. “It all seems a bit arbitrary,” said Shamus O’Pressed, a judgement borne out when Salesman made a traffic cone the new GM.
The OnOn moved to the roof barbecue for sausages, hot dogs, curry, rice and drinks. Mrs Plod was polite enough to allow us to enjoy her roof garden. Then the real GM was revealed: Velcro Lips. (You can see the full committee here.)
At the end of the night, 2firty got back in his fancy car but was unable to get it up the hill. After a dozen attempts, he parked it, grabbed some roadies and left the keys with Mrs Plod. Not sure if it was the beer or the car that failed to perform that night.
Finally, we bring you Stingray’s financial report for the year.
- Following the recent stock market gains our losses for the year are now in negative territory.
- In line with inflatuation it has been proposed that hash cash be raised below the average amount for which the interest rate and partial losses be reduced by and large to prevent any upsurge in the defecit thereby creating an overdraft in the undercurrents of future excesses.
- The Hash piggy bank is therefore brimming over with abundant dosh and all AGM costs and or expenses should be easily catered for by the Hash ATM… especially now the police mess is no longer available as the police have got themselves in a mess so we cant get in the mess while the mess is in a messand the mess with the mess is not easy to mess with as anyone messing with mess is likely to end up in an even bigger mess, don’t mess with the mess I say!
- As for the AGM …. is it really in Saigon ????