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Hash Trash 2009

Scribbles from our scribes, 2009 edition. (Starting with Run # 1326, 20 July)

Trash 1350

HASH TRASH
Run No.1350 21 December 2009
Venue: Thai Village
Hares: Cockroach, and Easy Let

It was one of Cockroach’s shorter runs (ie normal length) but the pain of trudging around the streets of the Peninsula in 30 degrees of heat was leavened by numerous stops for Yuletide refreshments, good cheer, and carols that the Vicar wouldn’t approve of. The Grand Master, Camp Bed, kicked off his slot by dragging Wet Dream into the Circle for being a grumpy old scrooge - but his “punishment” was to choose three hashers to sit on his knee and light his fire, and he selected Slappa, Titmouse and Get Me Off - and they promptly did. The Religious Advisor (Mr S*i**ole) was Santa incarnate, despite a rear-end costume failure, and he dished out gifts to all and sundry (some of them very sundry indeed) with the “help” of a squeaky-voiced, dirty-minded elf - no prizes for guessing who that was. We sang the traditional Christmas songs - “walking round in women’s underwear”. Then it was time to play “pass the parcel”, but this is too complicated a game for most Hashers, so it took for ever, though finally, and not before Close Encounters promised ET a spanking if he didn’t give her the parcel back, it was unwrapped and displayed in all its tawdriness. The passing of the cucumber and onion round the Circle without using hands took even longer - and how did Get Me Off manage to snap the end off the cucumber? Then the RA worked some impressive prestidigitation that involved 4 harriettes getting laid on their backs. After that there was a traffic jam game that, true to life, went nowhere and involved much shouting, bad temper, and sheer bloody-mindedness. At long last we got back onto familiar ground with the “Humiliation of the Virgins” (Jacques and Shadrack) and “Awarding the Hashit” (Titmouse for being inappropriately attired). And just when most Hasher’s stomachs had long since given up the hope of getting anything, the Circle ended with a carol (Carol, Carol, who the f*** is Carol?).

On On
BoB

Trash 1349

Run 1349
FuckItNow hosted at FIN-land
MmmBop and CheesyBalls: live running hares
CampBed: walking hare

Perhaps there was no scribe again...

Trash 1348

Run 1348
14 December 2009
Squirrel and NutCracker at SaltyGonad’s Warehouse.
...

was there a scribe???

Trash 1347

Dar Es Salaam Hash House Harriers
Trash 1347

“Thank goodness they’ve gone!” or “Piss off soon it’s the holidays”

There was a run and a walk –the first half of which was great… there was even a beer stop – thanks to our illustrious GM who went to Shoppers and brought the cold beers for us. The second half of the walk I spent in Shrijees buying more cold beer….. (Hash shit nomination for Latecommer!) The splinter group of disabled bodies was noticeably absent – nite rider you lite weight!

The attire this week was a little more in regular hash style but we missed the hash shit who seemed to think that someone would volunteer to wear the attractive gear for him - (Hash shit nomination for Cock Roach!)

There was a circle – even some hares (many thanks to Just Beth, Just Joe and our fabulous walking guide Happy With Far More Than She Should Be Telling Us About). There were more down downs…some for announcements most of which will have gone by the time you get this. Cinderella was superb…..

The RA was going on and on about leavers (I wasn’t clear if Candy Man and Candy blower were actually going to the same place?) and virgins (the only ones of whom I can remember being Just Dave, some guy with Aston Villa socks, n some loud lass from dumb dumb dumb land)….

It got sooooo tedious I drank lots of beer, nearly fell off my chair and left my notes at the venue…where was our Erotic Chicken with his festive songs?

Did the Trailmaster have a clue where we are off to next week – if probability is anything to go by I guess not?

There were lots of nominations – many of them not even present - for shit head of the week. No horney goat (surely not anymore?) so I have no photographic evidence to confirm or deny who won this illustrious prize…

The virgins were called into witness our prowess at SLSC – I wont repeat the comments I heard later. There was some grub and then we stumbled home as one should on a Monday evening….

Dominatrix

Trash 1346

Dar Es Salaam Hash House Harriers Trash 1346 – St Andrew’s Night!

There were men in skirts with strange ginger hair and flat caps. There were hashers with bits of square patterns all over their clothes. The GM turned up in a towel… Some dastardly drink was forced down throats, a vague rendition of what is probably a really neat dance and then there was a run and a walk.
The cripples (whose chairmanship I have reluctantly had to resign recently… over to you nite-rider?) were out in force – but mainly in the beer or band trucks.
Not sure what Flatulence is up to here but then, who is ever sure what he’s up to?There was the odd sample of beer consumed at 2 beer stops as well as the odd whipped willow (or was it a dashing sergeant that I couldn’t catch up with?)
The circle went on for an eternity – I was sure the Guinness book of records guy was waiting in the wings (Did anyone ever read ‘the man who ate a 747’?). The hares (ripper, Shaggy, BB, and Just Kate) were roused and thanked profusely by elephant balls (who liked the beer and dancing but was bitching about the length of the damn run….) and Stiffy (who possibly wasn’t even asked what he thought about the walk of which the first leg was far too long and fast for this cripple). Obviously the trail master had no clue where we will reside next week. Lucky for us (and those slackers of you who NEVER set runs) Just Beth managed to cluelessly volunteer to host next week and we will see her at Chake Chake St.

The haggis was addressed in a hashy manner by Just Ian (does he not have a hash name yet?) including something about a pudding race. I must have been more pissed than I thought earlier than I thought on Saturday ‘cos I don’t remember any mention of puddings and races in the same sentence that early in the evening? All the Scot s and a few wannabes did down downs for simply being northerners.

There was the odd announcement for things that will have been and gone before you get the chance to read this (teachers going nuts at IST and a piss off party for 2@time and Dikbuster) – but Fuck It Now and the wonderful Dominatrix got warm free beer for their efforts.

I have no idea why this motley crew got to do the triple. Some of those ginger hat wearers and even more wannabes got rewarded in traditional style in the circle. The GM seems to think that this is a drinking club – but only during and after the run – with a running problem and so punished those (Dumbass, Dominatrix, Little GM, Just Jesse, Nite rider, just some other chappy) who have a slightly different view of the hash drinking non-rules. There was some incredibly bad taste (even for DH3) public information about the hash rat for which Panty Pockets took the obligatory warm safari.

Huge thanks to Cock Roach for keeping my beer supply going whilst I was scribbling away – though none of which I can read now. (Why?) Tons more beer was abused, used and thrown about as is required at such an auspicious event – the inappropriately dressed were lamented, the shoeless frowned upon and, of course, the virgins (who picks up these people in car parks on Monday afternoons?). Stiffy probably wished he was elsewhere as the crowd sang hashy birthday. Just Kate became incredibly Desperate as she will henceforth be addressed. More songs – the eurovision winner Hashing Matilda- resounded down Haille Sellaise. There were obviously some nominations for Hash Shit but the photographic evidence points to Cock Roach being the eventual winner and got his grub first. I am sure SLSC was sung……
Til next week?
Dominatrix

Trash 1345

HASH TRASH
Run No.1345 23 November 2009
Venue: Valhalla
Hares: Cockroach, Boxer and Easy Let

Cockroach told us it would be a shade over 5 clicks. 5 clicks my ar*e. It was hot and there was no wind (unless you were running behind Flatulence) and by the fourth check I was creamcrackered. At the fifteenth check I nearly spewed my ring (I guess not everyone wants to know that), but I didn’t. Even Squirrel (the fit bast**d with the all-over tan) became sluggish and was nearly overtaken by a turbocharged Nutcracker. Tiny Sausage was upfront and outtasight - I have no idea what kind of jungle juice he’s on, but I could do with some of it. And if it wasn’t enough to have to drag one leg after another, we had to cope with titty checks and hookers. Somebody said that there was also a walk.

Our much respected Grand Master - CampBed - kicked off by thanking CandyMan and CandyBlower for stepping in to host the Hash at the eleventh hour and 59 minutes. When asked what he thought of the run Flatulence came up with the surprisingly reasonable comment that “Even by my standards, it was long”. Boogie Boobs said the walk was crass, but the crack was cool. Lucy did a very fine impersonation of Rippa living up to his reputation as Trailmaster par uselessness.

Shaggy foretold of a veritable tsunami of Jock jollifications involving dancing, prancing, cross-dressing, taking the piss out of the english, and doing unmentionable things with sheep’s bowels. Fun for all the Family. The running order is:
Friday night 7:30 onwards: live band playing Scottish stuff at Shooters Bar at Namanga
Saturday night: If you haven’t got tickets by now for the St Andrews Ball, pole fuck**ng sana
Sunday night 6:30 onwards: Hair of the Dog ceilidh at the Little Theatre
Monday night 5:30 onwards: St Andrew’s Hash hosted by Wet Dream and Boogie Boobs at ‘ooooor hooose’ -terpsichorean delights, before, during and after
Tuesday morning at 10:00: more chanting, ranting and prancing at the Terrace, Slipway

Also coming up is a drama thing called ‘Warning: May Contain Nuts’ at the IST Studio Theatre (Dec 3-5), ‘Cinderella’ at the Little Theatre, and Christmas Carols on the 13th Dec at the British High Commission (entry by ticket only but free).

The Religious Advisor (Candyman) took Candyblower, LateCummer and the Hash Harlot (Dominatricks) to task for starting on the beer supply before the run took off. Shaggy Haggis, Head Gasket and Flatulence took the Triple, for being by far the loudest Hashers. Hornigoat was ick, but failure to produce a Doctor’s certificate meant that the RA had no choice but to summon her for a down down to celebrate the Hash having two horns. Did I mention that Elephant Balls and Bonsai were there? I have done now. Returnees included Triar *uck, and Lucy. There seems to have been a bit of a run on Virgins recently, because all we managed to collect were Sail (FSP: doggy) and Arun (FSP: spider monkey). Candidates aplenty though for the Hashit - including CandyBlower (dishing up rust), Get Me Off (wearing jeans) Wet Dream (taking calls on his Blackberry thingy) Shaggy Haggis (gloating about victory over the Ozzies) and Nutcracker (for sucking and slurping on a lolly). The voting was close, but, after recourse to the Third Umpire, who looked at the video replay, it was announced that Wet Dream was definitely the most popular choice for Hashit. All that remained was to sing SLSC.

On On
BoB

Trash 1344

HASH TRASH
Run No.1344 16 November 2009
Venue: CampBed’s tent
Hares: John, Karen, Nasty Pasty

The runner’s trail was fast and furious (well i was furious anyway). Half way round, NiteRider told me how much he was enjoying the run - minutes later he broke his foot. Pole sana. He won’t be running for a while, but like the true Hasher he is, he aims to be there every week for the Kili. Three quarters of the way round, a severely dehydrated Pony stopped to buy a bottle of water (yes, water!) at a duka - only to find the beer stop was only 50m away - hidden round a corner. I had to laugh. Some other people went for a stroll. Pole sana.

The GM kicked off a very (for him) assertive set by dragging in Roger the Cabin Boy and Happy With Three Fingers for punishment. Don’t ask me why. Then when the Hares were summoned John committed the ultimate solecism of wearing his cap in the Circle. The mob bayed for his blood but they had to make do with witnessing him take a horizontal down down (waterboarding), winsomely administered by Boogie Boobs. He took it very well and didn’t froth too much at the mouth (perhaps he has been trained in counter-interrogation techniques). The Trailmaster - Rippa - astounded everyone by knowing that next weeks hash will be hosted by DumbAss on SUNDAY 26th somewhere in Mbezi Beach - kick-off will be 16.00hrs sharp. A map will be sent out (probably). The RA (Candyman) explained that he had recently been indulging his voyeuristic side, but, disappointingly, the object of his spying was Capt. Skidmarks, who was sexting in the pub. Rumour has it he was sexting Boogie Boobs - does Wet Dream know? - he does now. Hashers were totally gobsmacked to learn that Flatulence had offered to make Hornigoat an honest woman (but after all it is high time somebody did). She honoured his offer, and all night long he was honour and offer. Flatulence was congratulated on his magnificent catch, and Hornigoat was offered the Hash’s deepest sympathy (but surely he’ll grow up one day). My Little Pony, Outlaw, Rippa, Hornigoat and BagoBones had taken the advice of the Hare and gone the scenic route to the beer stop, only to find that the RA said they were short-cutting bastards (SCBs). The inappropriately addressed included Cockroach, Even Happier with Four Fingers, Slappa, and Banzai. Returnees included the Hash Harlot (Dominatricks), Wounded Knee, Wet Dream, My Little Pony,and Slappa (“she had had to leave the Hash to dry out”). I feel a new paragraph coming on.

Shaggy Haggis had been the Guest of Honour at the Marine Ball last weekend (can this be true?) and was asked give an account. He had been so impressed that he demanded that F**k it Now recreate the Presentation of the Colours. A Honour Guard formed up, which included Shaggy and Cockroach for some reason, and they strutted their stuff (it was all very moving, and i felt proud to be British). Moving quickly onto Virgins there was Jonah from Big Sky country, Sari from Knockialand, Stephanie from Murder Alley, Barry from the East End, Denmark from Kent, Chris from the Bay, and Joe from the Big Apple. All had very pedestrian FSPs except for Chris who said he liked lying down and looking up. Mmmm. Gus and Johnana were sung “Hashy Birthday”. And after much sober and wise reflection the Circle decided that from henceforth and forever more Issa is to be called Stool Sample. Mr Foreskin nominated Megan for the Hashit for bullshitting about her virginity, but the Hashit went to Nasty Pasty (always a popular choice) for threatening to desecrate “Old Glory”. And, as in all the best circles, the Hash ended with a reverential rendering of “Swing Low Sweet Chariot”.

On On
BoB

Trash 1343

HASH TRASH Run No.1343
7 November 2009
Venue: TINY’S Garage
Hares: TINY SAUSAGE, Ripper, GetMeOff
RA: GetMeOff
Yet another not-so-tiny TINY run that had little to do with check-backs and a lot to do with backstreets and checkpoints. With what may have been a record number of Hash check points the Beer Truck seemed to have been running away from the runners. Turned out pretty much true when arriving to the Beer Stop only to find no walkers and even more saddening... no Beer Truck! Need to speed up the runners in the future or slow the walkers further if that is even possible. Thankfully, your friendly neighborhood Tanzanian bystander was able to assist a parched gang of Hashers with a cell phone and all was sorted out. Those drinks sure went down smooth, a couple runners even felt it was necessary to take one for the road, and who can blame them? After reuniting with the walking brethren and several “10 minutes till Circle!” by Camp Bed for over a period of half an hour the ceremonies were underway. Uniform of the day, compliments of TINY SAUSAGE, consisted of a very fashionable Red, White, and Blue Polo shirt that got no complaints from the American section and several out of tune hummings from everyone else. A shortage of, and maybe thankfully, warm Safari resulted in specials of warm Kilimanjaros for down downs. It seems it may have been a “Secret” Hash looking at the figures, fear not however, all present members took the daunting task of emptying the coolers in stride. While some semblance of sobriety was still a factor announcements were as follows:
14 November- The Marines celebrate 234 years of kicking ass and taking names
Ed note, next hash is Monday Nov. 16th at CampBeds tentsite
22 November- Sunday Hash. Details will be revealed when someone figures it out. So expect 21 November announcements
28 November- St Andrews Ball, Kilts optional
After her recovery of a weekend of ghoulish antics and missing the previous Hash Shit appearance on Monday AYAYAYAYAYAYAY was eager to be back and retake her title beer abusing her way into the circle. Virgin Nancy decides to take the walky talky literally and use it on the walk. Virgins eager to make a name for themselves with Jeff (RustyForeskin) stripping atop the trash pile pulling in Virgin Rosemary, AYAYAYAYAYAYAYA, and Mind the Gap in for staring at his nipples. Virgin-whose-name-I-can’t-recall is pronounced Hash Hero for finding the Beer Truck, and Ripper celebrates a British Holiday of which we are all happy to oblige with down downs. Virgin FSPs were graphic and entertaining at points. Nancy announced beneath a hail of “yeah right” and BS calls that she was a “TrueVirgin.” We have many people that can alleviate that, free of charge even! Johannes from... Johannesburg? Enjoys to partake in all positions imaginable and unimaginable. Meagan simply states that she enjoys anything with her legs in the air which coincided with RustyForeskin’s, named the Wiley Awning as spelt by Spits and Swallows. Everyone was enlightened with a how-to demonstration of the WA with Meagan which involved, well waddya know... her legs in the air. It’s like fate sometimes really. Golfers were introduced to the circle with a few of them having some religious touches to their names. They were introduced to our heathen ways and looked rather like they enjoyed it. Hash shit nominations were aplenty with Bite My Mega from VirginNancy. AYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAAAYAA for failure to don Hash Shit attire. TINY SAUSAGE for pretending to have a Hash Shit. Bite My Mega again for the shits of it by the RA. Winner logically goes to BMM just for the shits of it. Circle ends with a sweet serenade of SLSC.
On On, DickBuster

Trash 1342

HASH TRASH
Run No.1342 2 November 2009
Venue: Cruz Inn, Mikocheni
Hares: Nite Rider, Boxer, Panty Pockets

Nite Rider offered hashers a long one, a short one and a slow one, and there were about an equal number of takers for each. Having used a ton of paper to sign the venue, he had little left to mark the trail, but we all eventually sniffed out the beer stop, and got back home in the moonlight. The announcements went on for a year and a day, and included:

NWH: SATURDAY 4 pm at Tiny’s Sausage Factory in Mikocheni (no hash on Monday)
Mismanagement Meeting: Thursday 7.00 at the Grand Master’s Palace
St Georges Society’s Bonfire Night: Saturday 5.30 pm at the Oysterbay Police Officers Mess
Halloween Haunted House Costume Party: you missed it, dummy
Marine Corps Ball: soonish, get tickets via the GM, or a Marine (the haircut is a dead give away) at the next Hash
Addis Ababa African InterHash: December 2010 - can’t wait!
St Andrew’s Ball: if you haven’t heard about this already, you must have been on Mars.

The RA - Candyman - had a go at Nite Rider for misleading the Hash about the length of what was on offer, appointing a Walking Hare on the hoof, having no bottle opener at the beer truck, and bringing us back in the dark. Nite Rider blamed the shambles on Boxer, who predictably blamed Nite Rider. All in all these two showed a level of incontinence that makes them prime candidates for the Mismanagement Committee. Talking of incontinents, the GM - CampBed - urged all those hashers who have a secret yearning to be an Officer of the Hash to put themselves forward at the forthcoming elections - the competition is always very tough, but, if you run a dishonest, well-funded campaign, you might topple the incumbent, and once you are on the gravy train you will be like a pig in shit. It is not a very tasteful link, but we are now going to talk about the Virgins - of which there were two: Tammy whose FSP, which she demonstrated for us with the help of an inflatable (Head Gasket), is ‘takeoff ” and Silvia whose FSP is K9. Two recent ex-virgins were named: Marsha is to be called “Horny Prossy” (it stands for Prosecutor, in case you were wondering), and Emilian becomes “Roger the Cabin Boy”. Three cool chicks (Easy Let, Nutcracker, Close Encounters) were in the frame for allegedly throwing wine over the GM while his back was turned. Did they stick together in the face of the cruel interrogation that the GM gave them (like being savaged by a dead sheep, as someone once said)? Did they heck as like. And so the Hashit went to Easy Let. And the Circle ended, as it should, with SLSC.

On On
BoB

Trash 1341

Hash Trash 26 October 2009
Hash number 1300 something (someone suggested 1369 but I think it was his FSP)
Hosted by Paddy, Boogie Boobs, Baby Burns and Lindsay
From Tanzania Breweries

Candy Man and Foxy Pussy opened the hostilities with a down-down to punctuality; followed by Ted-the-Paul and Paddy with a down-down to their phones.

Announcements:
- Ripper: Next week’s H will be hosted by Knight Rider in Mikocheni. Venue to be confirmed.
- The following week’s will be a Saturday run, hosted by Tiny Sausage.
- Candy Blower: Nights at Georges and Dragon on 11 and 12 November. Proceeds will go to the Cancer Institute. 5000 TZS per adult and 2000 TZS per child.
- Halloween Party at the Marines House this Friday – 30 November. Costume contest. Bar opens at 7h30pm.
- Ethiopia Inter-H 2010 in Addis

Hares’ judgement time:
- Potty on the walk: It was like walking from the Middle-Ages to Modern Times, through mud huts then modern buildings. A bit scary because of swindlers.
- Boxer on the run: It was too long, with too many checks and holes.

En passant: Foxy Pussy and all the ATM fraud victims were called out by Cockroach who had seen FP with a big Czech. New shoes victims were Marcha, Damas and Baby Burns.

2 Virgins were exposed to the crowd from the top of a Coca cola Box: 1) Lindsay, who is the girlfriend of Baby Burns, who is Boogie Boobs’s baby. At first she didn’t have a FSP (all were sorry for Baby Burns) but then she remembered about some “Tchukten” – probably a Chinese delicacy. 2) Edna from Kenya was brought by Betty, didn’t have any FSP and didn’t want to go deep… (Tiny Sausage would be her perfect match).

Returnees: Nearly half of the circle, including Candy Man, Boxer, Marines, Knight Rider, Twin Peaks, Baby Burns, Marcha, and a red tee-shirt (?).

Strange things that happened during the past week:
Shithole and Nasty Pasty’s family’s drinking habits were shared with all, as Jacky Potter (sorry, Harry Potty) reported his older brother’s vodka night and his brother proved him right by not remembering much of that famous party – except sleeping by the askari corner. This turned out to be a pathetic collective confession, which didn’t even upset the parents. I wonder if that is the perfect hashers’ family…All vodka drinkers were called out. Candy Man – whose taxi driver had to put to bed – joined the DD, with a “Naughty boys!” note from Nasty Pasty.

2 Marines got named:
- Chris was presented by F*ck-It-Now! as being from Texas, Wizard of Oz, dressed as a gay at Thursday trick or treat party, and having big guns. Proposed names were Dorothy, Toto Love, Dorothy’s Bitch (who is this Dorothy??). He was saved by a last minute proposal and became “Cheesy Balls”.
- Kevin was presented by Two-a-time as being a Humba (??), having always something to say, and planning to go to the H in Kenya. Proposed names were Natch Dick and Split Bin. He was finally named Humba

Numerous nominees for H sh*t: Banzai-who had volunteered last week, Hailili who needed a costume for the Marines’ Halloween party, Boogie Boobs for making up rumours about swindlers, Nasty Pasty for letting her son getting drunk, her son for getting pissed and for lying about his mother driving a H-hero while he was getting drunk and Shithole for being the father of the one who got pissed. Shithole drew everybody’s attention to Twin Peaks resemblance with the twin trees planted there. Once again, half of the - small - circle ended up doing the down-down. Even an unknown drinker came out of the blue and joined in pouring beer on the H sh*t costume, which will hopefully be worn by Hailili at the Halloween party.

On On!

Foxy Pussy

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