CRUSTY’S FAREWELL TRASH
SRIMANGAL – 6TH TO 8TH JUNE,
2008
The
Crusty Crew Assembled Before the Final Run
The
Crusty Crew Assembled Before the Final Run
By way of introduction, it was clear that certain people were out to enjoy themselves. Bozo and Lip Service arrived at the resort around 11.30 a.m. on the Thursday, closely followed by yours truly, Towed, at around 13.00. In all fairness to the blokes, we at least got on with some work in the afternoon whilst Lip Service just lounged around on the grass outside, looking decorative. Later in the evening, after Bozo returned, Cloth Balls, Tuneless Cow, Blow Pipe and Webfart arrived and interrupted the three of us having a leisurely sun-downer or four on the grass. This was to be the first of three traditional Cloth Balls salami and cheese pre-dinner sessions. God knows how much salami he brought – certainly enough big ones to keep most bumpies happy. Dinner followed, degenerating into a level of humour that is only possible with Webfart in the company. The two bumpies either did not understand most of it or were disgusted. Either way there were few smiles from their direction whilst the rest of us had tears streaming down our faces.
The result of all of these festivities was a somewhat delayed start to the setting of the first run. Nonetheless we managed to set it successfully – the Walking Hares having taken both GPSs with them had to then resort to semaphore from a nearby hilltop to guide the Running Hares back. Meanwhile the bus had an uneventful journey up, leaving virtually on time at 07.10 by the simple means of leaving Pubic Hare behind. The really sad thing about that was that the bastard managed to catch a bus that got him there the same evening.
Hares: Cloth
Balls, Tuneless Cow, Webfart, Blow Pipe, Lip Service, Bozo the Clown &
Towed Virgins: Carl-Fredrik, Max
Returnees:
Cloth Balls, Bozo the friggin’ Clown & Lip Service
After a fairly long drive out to the lake a very quick briefing was held and the pack pointed in approximately the right direction. The running Hares were most disappointed that Gorf had not turned up as there were special falsies laid for him with a ‘G’ at the end. Nonetheless, Trek or Treat can be relied on to buy most things in terms of paper trails, but the revelation of the run, in terms of falsies (if she’ll pardon the expression), had to be Emily who must have passed the walkers around four times in the first couple of kilometres. Anyway, the route meandered around the lake for a little way before there was a steep scramble up onto the ridges which knackered pretty much everyone. The walkers were probably travelling faster than the running pack for a good while as the runners bought almost all the falsies that had been laid. At the split of the walk/run, Challenger had to be dragged back from what would have turned out to be a huge short cut as the running trail could be found a few hundred metres further on.
I should possibly point out at this stage that it had rained a bit since the trail had been set in the morning and it was clear from the evidence of Tuneless Cow’s umbrella (for which she was eventually given a down-down after the last run) that it was still raining for a fair bit of the hash. Once the runners had pissed off, the walkers enjoyed a peaceful stroll through the tea gardens, interrupted only by the fact that the two little streams that the trail had been set to cross in the morning had become a tad swollen and required a bit of wading. Still, no-one complained and everyone got their feet wet (Tuneless Cow spent about half an hour trying to find a dry crossing when we set the walk, without success!).
|
The assembled crew by
the lake |
Picturesqueue or what??
(apart from Eager for Beaver & Goose Bumpy) |
||||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Walkers enjoying the wet
(and being passed by Emily for the 5th time) |
|||||
We had a very pleasant walk through the tea gardens in our wet shoes, Bjorn Again noting the statue of the Hindu Goddess Shiva (except I misheard him and thought he was referring to that Australian Homebrew Goddess, Sheila). Once we got back to the lake there was a bit of a wait for the runners so I managed to rack up a fairly substantial bar tab with Tuneless Cow as I had omitted to bring beer of my own. Once the runners arrived it was time for Bozo’s demon jackfruit (as selected by Bozo’s daft driver, Dulal). It was perfect and, once someone had pointed out it’s alleged aphrodisiac properties, was consumed entirely by optimistic non-bumpy hashers.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Everyone else has long enough legs to step across |
||||
Once the Hares had been dealt with for setting a 70
minute run in what is rugged mountainous terrain for most Dhaka hashers – it
was amazing that no fixed ropes were needed – virgins Max and Carl Fredrik were
welcomed. Max is the replacement
Kalashnikov at the Russian Embassy and was dragged along by Two Bottles, and
Carl Fredrik is a fellow Swede brought along by Bjorn Again. Because the hopeless Beer Maid, Hairy Crack,
had not given the correct or, in fact, any instructions, the pair of them drank
prematurely and had to start it all over again. Personally I would blame the GM for the lack of instruction –
firstly because the buck must stop at the top and secondly that she should have
realised that in her normal day job Hairy Crack doesn’t have to give
instructions to Dunny Gone when she hands him a beer. (I believe that he has now even worked out how to open the can
himself).
Returnees were Cloth Balls, who had been to Istanbul, Bozo the Clown who had spent a week in Do It All and B&Q. I know he was lying because Do It All changed its name to Focus some years ago. The only nail that he’d been banging was the one he keeps for Sex Starved in Srimongal. Lip Service had definitely been sex touring in India with her bloke. Gruppenfuehrer Warm & Fluffy promptly put Bozo on the ice because the Beer Maid couldn’t catch the beer mug that he tossed back to her. The said Beer Maid promptly poured half a litre of ice water down the poor sod’s neck into the bargain. Still, he wasn’t on the ice for long as he then had to get up and do his RA bit.
Cloth Balls was straight on the ice – something to do with the lack of explanation to the virgins, disobedience to the GM which, as we all know to our cost, results in banishment to Siberia (well, it is icy, at least). Since the GM was involved she was also put on the ice. It must have been a fairly brief stay as the next sinners were Cloth Balls again and Blow Pipe for going arse over tit on the run. New-ish runner Emily was then called in whilst Bozo explained
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Steady
application of increasing load for Sucker |
Virgin
Max |
TC
& CB show how it should be done! |
||
|
to her that it is actually not compulsory to run every single false trail yet still be first to the next check. She could have done it like Sucker who did not run a single check and was eventually left somewhere – so he was put on the ice whilst driver Dulal was given a down-down for his skills in selection of jack fruit. Meanwhile Penis had decided that Emily was not applying enough lap-load to Sucker so adopted her customary position with her legs wrapped around his neck. It then got a bit vicious as Tuneless Cow decided to join in and grab some space on Sucker’s lap. Bozo then decided that Virgin Max did not look particularly like a diplomat (and, of course, Two Bottles does?) and must therefore be a Polish plumber who had been called out to fix a frozen pipe in Hendon and ended up singularly confused and in Dhaka. If the poor bastard wasn’t confused before, he certainly was by the time Bozo had finished. Staying on the subject of virgins, Bjorn Again was called in to explain why he had not observed hash protocol – if we must have more Scandahoolies on the Hash, can they please be young and bumpy. Carl Fredrik may be a very nice bloke, but it’s not quite the same thing. Bozo then decided to display his petulant side and seek revenge for his earlier icing by slagging off the whole Australian nation and their ability to manage the simplest of slip catches, so Hairy Crack was called in, as was Dunny Gone for not training her better. Finally Bozo sought out the FRBs – Challenger and Trek or Treat and a most unusual Front Running Bitch – Penis. She |
Dunny Gone pleads with Minty to go no further |
|||
had apparently found herself at the front of the pack, presumably by some gross misjudgement, short cut or simply getting lost, so it was worth cooling all three of them off. However, Challenger’s and Trek or Treat’s arses are so fucking big that there wasn’t any room on the ice for Penis’ tight little butt. Bozo then handed on the RA mantle to Webfart for a final few down-downs in the dark.
Cloth Balls and Tuneless Cow were the first to get involved, having apparently been breaking rule three on the way to the run so they were put on ice, ostensibly to cool off but somehow Tuneless Cow managed to get her legs wrapped around his waist so there probably wasn’t a great deal of dampening of his ‘arder. Hare Bozo was then called in to explain (and demonstrate) his theory of laying paper in clumps to avoid it getting washed away by the rain. Emily was called in for running in a non-hash tee shirt – apparently she only has one and was saving it for the final run! Any self respecting bloke would have worn it on all three to add to the olfactory experience of hashing.
Finally, and continuing the inappropriate dress theme, Minty Hole was charged for running in DHHH shorts. However, he’d changed out of them, so when asked to display the offensive attire, he dropped his kechs to display a greyish pair of tattered shreddies that he must have inherited from his grand-dad and never washed for sentimental reasons. Dunny Gone immediately pleaded with him to go no further.
Then it was back into the bus and off to the resort for showers, dinner and evening festivities.
Could have been anything! I couldn’t remember at the time and I’ve no fucking idea at this late stage, almost 6 weeks later!
I don’t really have a hell of a lot to say about
them morning after either, as Trek or Treat had dragged me out of bed to go
Haring at 0700. Setting the walk was
fine, as Pubic Hare recruited a guide who didn’t understand what we were doing
so led us deeper and deeper into the forest until we came to an almost vertical
face. A worrying prospect – my
imagination was running riot with the prospect of being terminally lost in
impenetrable jungle and dying of starvation because the only thing to eat is
Pubic Hare – its ok, I’ll die first.
Anyway we persuaded the guide that this wasn’t quite the idea and sorted
out a reasonable route for the walkers.
Then we sat around for about an hour and a half, picking leeches off my
feet – even the leeches wouldn’t suck Pubic Hare – whilst waiting for the running
Hares to find their way back. By the
time we got back to the resort, there was bugger all time for breakfast before
we were off again for the run. At least
this one was a lot nearer than the lake.
|
|
|
|
A pair of leech lovers |
|
The first problem was that the security guys would not let the vehicles into the park to get to the start of the run, so the bus and trucks had to park by the road and we walked the half mile or so in to the start. Once there, there was a very quick briefing before we set off. The walk and run both started out on much the same trails and with the number of falsies that Trek or Treat had set it was some time before the walkers finally managed to get rid of the sweaty, noisy bastard runners. Anyway we did eventually get some peace and quiet and had a very pleasant stroll through the forest, a local village, tea gardens and along the railway line (one has to put some flat bits in for Dhaka hashers). However, this was rain forest, so it did. After about 20 minutes or so the heavens opened and it absolutely pissed down for the rest of the time. I have to confess that we got a tiny bit lost at one stage but, being Hares of distinction, we found the trail again without much difficulty …..
|
|
|
….. unlike the runners. When we got back to the start point it was still chucking it down and even Tuneless Cow was wet, despite the umbrella, so we walked out to the road and found the transport. The rest of the walking pack decided that they would commandeer the bus (after Sucker and Penis had arrived, having shortcut in from the run) and head back to the resort and some dry clothing. I thought that someone had better hang around to explain what was going on, so I did. Two hours and only four Fosters later the soggy, bloody, knackered and cursing running pack arrived, by which time the bus had returned so everyone piled in and headed back to the resort for the circle. They had got totally lost and were lucky to have got back at all. The useless Hash Flash had only managed to take 6 pictures of the run, five of which were in the same place and of the same people, so records of the run are a bit thin.
The circle by the pool was fairly subdued and didn’t really start until everyone had removed their little bloodsucking friends and changed into drier clothing. I was going to say that by this time the rain had stopped, but apparently it had not rained at all at the resort. The only thing worth celebrating was Two Bottles 50th run and the free beer and T-shirts that went with it. Then proceedings were handed over to Bozo again. Running Hares were the obvious target of his venom, especially Minty and Two Bottles who ended up with lumps of ice down the front of their shorts whilst Trek or Treat and Challenger kept the ice block warm. In the meantime Bozo declared Emily the definite winner of the wet T-shirt competition and was seen to be furtling down the front of Minty’s shreddies before moving on to the ice, part 2. This involved the exchanging of places of the running Hares with Minty and Two Bottles taking over on the ice block whilst Trek or Treat and Challenger got the ice down the front of their shorts. I’ve never seen Trek or Treat looking happier but don’t care to speculate as to why!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Hares, Milestones,
Sinners on Ice, Wet T-shirt Winners (in the dry, unfortunately) and Bozo
doing something disgusting with Minty! |
||||
|
|
|
|
|
The boys playing with themselves – who said no wanking in the
circle? |
||
Then it was the turn of Bjorn Again, for the stupid hat again, although he has at least removed the label now. Final honours went to Webfart for an impressive slide which unfortunately tore the arse out of his shorts, exposing nothing that the Hash has not seen on many previous occasions. However, Bozo was not done yet and continued to castigate the running Hares for the total fuck up but at last gave in and let Minty and Two Bottles off the ice, once someone had prized Pubic Hare off Minty’s lap.
There was then time for a quick lunch and float around in the pool drinking more beer (well, for Lip Service, Emily and me at least) before we all had to foregather to set off for the final run through the tea gardens. Bozo and I must have got distracted by something as we kept getting stroppy text messages from GN Warm & Fluffy asking where the fuck we were as the bus was about to leave.
|
|
|
Tasteless or what? |
One item of note during the traditional British
lunch of fish, chips and beans was to hear Goose Bumpy slagging off British
cuisine for being boring (clearly she was missing the more traditional ‘mushy
peas’ with her fish and chips) when the next minute her other half, Eager for
Beaver, is seen putting honey on his chips.
Presumably this is the way Americans make French sorry
Freedom Fries interesting.
|
|
Hares: Crusty Lobster, Penis,
Goose Bumpy, Warm & Fluffy, Hairy Crack
Leavers: Tuneless Cow, Cloth
Balls, Trek or Treat, Penis, Challenger, Goose Bumpy, Eager for Beaver, Bozo
the Clown
PERMANENT
LEAVER – CRUSTY LOBSTER
So this was to be the big one – Crusty’s Last Stand. It was a perfect afternoon for it – sunshine and clear skies when we arrived at the start and disembarked. Knowing that I was headed for Singapore for surgery on my knee the following week I had decided that, for the first time in a few months, I could run and, if it got worse, it could be fixed with the other 60 years’ worth of damage. This was partly planned, but the assistance of a few beers after the last run had certainly dissolved any common sense that might have otherwise prevailed.
Once again, bloody Lip Service has singularly failed in her duties as Hash Flash and left me with three pictures of the run, most of which are too dark to be rescueable. For what it is worth they’re reproduced below to give you the general idea of weather conditions shortly after we started running. What a fabulous run it was as well. After a shaky start which had hashers running here there and everywhere in the tea gardens on the flat chasing falsies, we picked up paper heading up into the hilly bits. The clouds were gathering but who cared – we’d been wet before and would get wet again.
The hilly bits continued and we were up in scrub, then more tea and a few valleys, excellent views in the gathering gloom and as we headed into the rubber plantations the heavens opened once again with the downpour continuing to the and of the run. From the rubber we emerged into grassy valleys with lovely smooth running trails, all slippery and wet.
|
|
|
|
|
Looks a little like
rain? (and by the way, Penis, that’s Challenger groping Emily again!) |
||
A fantastic run, as far as I was concerned at least. Well done to the bumpy Hares.
The circle was held on the spacious veranda of one
of the tea plantation houses.
Well, the first and most unreasonable thing that GN
Warm & Fluffy did was haul Bozo and me onto the ice for being 23 seconds
late for the departure. Then she had
the gall to call herself and the other (all Bumpy) Hares into the circle to
receive the applause of the assembled pack.
Clearly she’s been learning from recent lessons in Zimbabwe, and it is
rumoured that the mismanagement were going round checking that everyone had
voted for a good run. (sorry – using out of date news for an out of date
trash!). Then there were a fair few
leavers but, since most were teachers and all were American with the exception
of the token Belgian and a Brit, we won’t dwell on their importance. They’re all going to Connecticut anyway.
So we come to the really important bit – Permanent Leaver Crusty Lobster – the
reason for the whole shooting match.
Crusty was congratulated on the wonderful T-shirt and all sorts of other
stuff and what a wonderful servant she had been to the Hash (Trek or Treat
endorsed this loudly before W&F had got to the “… to the hash” bit). Then it was handed over to Bozo for the coup
de grace.
First call was on Emily, Lip Service and my good
self for being proper hashers. None of
this namby pamby having a little lie down and no booze between runs – we went
for it in true hashing style – plenty of beers and in the pool and then we
front ran the whole fucking thing. Bozo
was clearly jealous of such abilities.
Then it was Challenger and W&F for having some bizarre, purist,
Italian argument about whether the long stringy paper was more like tortellini
than linguini. Why couldn’t they just
try eating the stuff then they’d fucking know!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Permanent Leaver |
We’ve always fucked
Swedes |
.. but big fat Aussies is
best |
Please can I go to the
toilet? |
Alouette? Not where he’s pointing |
For some reason Two Bottles and Bjorn Again were
invited in as well with Bjorn Again on the ice and the Russian bastard doing
what Russians have always done to the Swedes over the years. However, the Swede was not big enough for
Two Bottles to get successfully mounted, so fat bastard Dunny Gone was called
in and, judging by the smile on their faces, that satisfied both of them! The reason for all this was that Two Bottles
had produced the usual 2 bottles of Jameson’s at lunch!
Then it was the turn of the bumpies – two of them
far too loud and nagging – step in Penis and the loudest of the loud – Lip
Service. Additional pressure was called
in in the form of Max the Polish Plumber and Challenger. Although Lip Service didn’t appear to
appreciate Max’s bulk, Penis and Challenger had to be eventually prized off the
ice. Next in was umbrella girl –
Tuneless Cow – who had done all the runs with her umbrella like some perverted
version of Mary Poppins, so was put on the ice and invited to sing a song. The silly bitch chose ‘582 bottles of beer
on the wall’. To save her three days on
ice, Goose Bumpy stepped in and suggested the ‘star spangled banner’
instead. Since this is apparently some
sort of national anthem, TC said she had to stand up for it, so Goose Bumpy had
to fill in on the ice. Apparently lots
of people seemed to know the song so it received a lusty rendition, just like a
lot of people in Guantanamo Bay.
Bozo, thinking that the fact that there was ice
around meant that the cold war was still going on, invited Max and Two Bottles
to respond with the Russian equivalent.
They pleaded similar mitigating circumstances to Tuneless Cow, so
capitalist running pig-dog Webfart was invited onto the ice for the
duration. God knows what they sang, but
it ended up appropriately with ‘two bottles of Jameson’s on the wall’. Continuing in xenophobic mode, Bozo
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Hares and
Miscreants |
The Twat in the
Hat |
Would you mess
with this woman? |
Both smiling for
different reasons! |
|
|
invited the Swedes to sing a Swedish song and
concluded by calling the Hash Belgian onto the ice, with Pubic Hare keeping the
other end of the ice block warm in case the temperature differential caused
dense fog. Permanent leaver Crusty
was then invited to explain how she got her name, appropriately for
over-indulging in the sun at a previous hash in Srimongal. Then Webfart was called in to sing the
Belgian national anthem for the Belgian on ice with Crusty playing the part
of Alouette. Finally we all sang a farewell song for Crusty,
the words of which are reproduced below. The Second Evening’s EventsThe main events worth reporting started within a couple of hundred metres of the On-In, on the way home. Bozo’s infamous driver, Dulal (he of the jack fruit selection skills) decided that he would reverse all the way down the lane until he could turn at the tee-junction. Whether the fact that Lip Service and Emily were playing silly buggers with a camera in the back of the car had anything to do with it, I don’t know, but no sooner had I joined in than the car lurched off the road and into a fucking great ditch. Since I landed on top of Lip Service and Emily as a result, I thought that it was quite fun. Anyway Blow Pipe came to the rescue with a bit of solid British engineering and soon had the big white Japanese bus out of trouble. There is not a hell of a lot that I can
reliably recount about the rest of the journey back to the resort, let alone
the |
Seen
late in the evening at the pool – the ghost of Pubic Hare |
|||
evening’s events. I do recall that there was some singing after dinner, that I managed to remember all the words to ‘The Jolly Hasher’ for a change, and that somewhere there is photographic evidence of Dunny Gone and others unconscious by the pool, although I cannot recollect where I have seen it.
Having decided that I would not take the Sunday off
work I have no idea what the scenes were like at breakfast the following day
either as I headed off (he wrote, self righteously) at around 05.30.
I am sure that everyone who went will join with me
in wishing Crusty Lobster a fond farewell and to thank her for the idea of what
was a great weekend away. Thanks also
to those who helped with the organisation.
On On, Towed
|
LIVING WITH THE TWAT FROM KANSAS (to the tune of ‘Living next door to Alice’ in case it wasn’t obvious) |
|
|
Well, Penis called up and she said have you heard And we all said “No, we haven’t heard a fucking
word About Crusty” Well she’s leaving soon and it’s not too late To rush out to Srimangal and celebrate While a big Homebound truck Pulls up at Crusty’s front gate CHORUS Oh! We all know
why she’s leaving, it’s not just itchy feet She’s
desperate to get away from fuckin’ Trek or Treat! ‘Cos
for 19 years she’s been living with that twat from Kansas (Kansas,
Kansas, where the fuck is Kansas?) 19
years just waiting for the chance To
bugger off to Bali, or maybe Paris, France Now
he’s got to get used to just playing with his own phallus (phallus,
playing with his phallus) |
They grew up together, two kids in the park, They both smoked dope, just for a lark Trek and Crusty Now they’ve had years in Dhaka, some of the best But now it’s time to get on with the rest And the big Biman bird Took her off to the west CHORUS Well Penis called Trek and said “how do you feel? I know a nice bunch of Scandie Internees To help you get, over Crusty” ‘Cos she’s off to the States, she thinks her old
man’s gay but he will never regret the day that she left him behind As an MBA! CHORUS |
