DHAKA MIXED HASH – RUN NO 1409			31^st May, 2008
Kristian and Trude’s Dhaka Old Town Farewell
The Happy Leavers
Hares: Kristian, Trude, Tall man, Cat’t Text, Webfart, Chicken Fucker, Wetballs & Dunny Gone				Hashers: 68
Virgins: none				New Runners: none
Leavers: Syphie, Ali Wank Bonk		Returnees: Rail Jerker, Gorf
Permanent leavers: Tattooed Tart, Trude & Kristian		Milestones: Chicken Fucker – 275 Runs; Jumpy Bumpy – 25 Runs; Challenger – 150 Runs
Rail Jerker hitches a ride	The Run There generally isn’t a lot to say about an Old Town Run. We went there saw the usual sights, came back and got pissed somewhere. However, it wasn’t necessarily as simple as that this time. I was walking again so haven’t a clue about anything that went on during the run, other than that we met them a couple of times and they all looked shagged out. So it was all about the walk and a few other events. First off, the congregation outside the Sheraton caused a bit of traffic confusion until Over Exposed’s entourage told all complainants that it was permissible to park 3 deep on a major arterial urban route. From the Sheraton we managed to lose half the convoy in getting to the start point and were obliged to wait for a while until everyone turned up. From here we wandered off down a few nondescript side streets eventually getting into the Old Town proper. Notable visits to the Star Mosque, Armenian Church where we met the runners emerging and nearly lost a couple of walkers who tried to follow them and a very brief entrance to another pink place. Then it was the pink palace where everyone took lots of photos, we met the runners coming out and Pull It Out couldn’t get something to work properly Thank God for Chicken Fucker. Towards the end of the walk (and it started to piss down) Webfart (who had earlier been doing his Pubic Hare “I was born and raised in this area” impersonation) decided that we should turn left. Fortunately Chicken Fucker was not too far behind and decreed otherwise. It probably didn’t matter greatly as, after we’d been walking for about 90 minutes the Hares realised that we were still a few k from our destination and decided that rickshaws were the answer. Webfart’s insistence on one Bangla speaker per rickshaw soon fell apart when it became obvious that only 30% of the pack were fluent. Nonetheless he did a good job of sweeping up the linguistically inept who were left when the rickshaw pullers decided that there was a jam ahead and they would take us another way. The final incident of note was when Blow Job had clearly said something to piss off her driver so he rammed straight into the back of the one Tuneless Cow and I were sharing. Well, I should point out that there is a fair bit of ballast between the two of us so her vehicle came to a smartish stop. Unfortunately B-J didn’t stop with it and pitched forward nose first into the road. Fellow passenger Kristin had the wits to brace herself against the driver (no, not that way, you perverted bastards) so didn’t fall off. I didn’t hear a word that Blow Job said, but did hear everything she thought. When we finally reached the ‘C’ point, it was only to hear that there was a ‘D’ Point at Tall Man’s office in road 55 Gulshan. Just as well we had some beers for the journey.
There’s Hashers in there somewhere!
Posing walkers
Hashers & Grockles
300 runs between ‘em	The Circle Firstly let me apologise for the absence of photographs of the early part of the circle, but I was so stunned by Blow Job’s transmogrification into a GM that I forgot. If Lip Service hadn’t fucked off to India with her bloke without appointing a deputy, the problem would not have arisen. I eventually press ganged Tuneless Cow into flashing my camera so at least some of the circle is on record. So Blow Job was a virgin GM – it’s a hell of a long time since the Hash has had one of those. So the deflowering commenced with the calling in of the thousands of Hares, with slight delays because the Beer Maid fucked up and didn’t have enough beers ready. Opinions of the run were muted, other than the traditional Webfart’s “bollocks”, and there were no Virgins or New Runners so BJ moved swiftly on to returnees Gorf and Rail Jerker. Gorf had been off hashing in Malaysia and Rail jerker on one of his frequent trips to India. Late Returnee Narjan was a premature drinker so had to do it over again. Leavers were Syphie, who is going somewhere that I didn’t catch (and lets hope he doesn’t catch anything whilst he’s there) and Ali Wank Bonk returning to Sweden after failing to win any more work for HIFAB. Permanent leavers were Tattooed Tart who is off back to Connecticut (or North Carolina as it is known outside the circle) and Trude and Kristian, both off back to Oslo although Kristian’s going via China. Notables were Jumpy Bumpy who has done 25 runs and at least the right number of Hares, Challenger who has done 150 runs and sad bastard Chicken Fucker who has done 275 runs. Much to everyone’s relief (except mine, as I have to keep up with the buggers) BJ handed over proceedings to the RA double act of Webfart and Five-Year-Old-Shit. Webfart was first up and called in Penis, along with Camel Jockey, Tall Man, Deportee and Minty Hole. Some cock and bull story about them having no idea of history, presumably related to mis-told tales of the Old Town during the run. Stick to the walk in future, where we have non-stop and 150% reliable history lessons from Pubic Hare who was born and raised in every run site that we’ve been to! Following this was the tale of a hasher who was overheard on his mobile, in the middle of one of the busiest and noisiest bazars that we passed through, trying to convince his boss that the reason for his non-attendance at work was that he was at the doctors. Step forward Wetballs! Blow Job was then called back in for her aerial ballet as she dived from the rickshaw. Fellow rickshaw diver Penis was called in to keep her company. Penis was a bit bemused by this, as apparently the time she fell off some years ago she was too pissed to remember. Webfart then awarded himself a down-down for being a misleading Hare and Handed over to FYOS. Before he could get into the circle, Back Door Man stepped in and tried to call Webfart back in for some other misdemeanour. Needless to say BDM ended up with the down-down. FYOS called in Foreskin for fostering diplomatic relations with the US. Foreskin thinks that fostering diplomatic relations is getting pissed with Over Exposed on an Australian drink that comes in blue cans. Continuing the theme of diplomatic relationships there appeared to be something going on between the US and Russia – on-in Tattooed Tart and Two Bottles! Other down-downs were awarded by FYOS to: - Joannie for finally wearing a hash T-shirt - Penis for nearly getting run over by a rickshaw - Someone anonymous in my notes for exposing huge expanses of flesh whilst changing in their car (but the sequence of Photos show it was Hairy Crack and Jumpy Bumpy!) - LBH for not knowing the number that comes before 8 in his age - Blow Job for the chaos at the start of the run and, by setting off from the ‘A’ point two minutes early, for throwing Infused into such a panic that he omitted to pay his run fee! - Tall Man for taking advantage of the above chaos by losing 75% of the convoy within the first 500 metres (mind you, if you can’t follow the path cleared by Over Exposed’s entourage, it doesn’t say much for your driver). FYOS handed things back to Webfart at this point but only so that he could award new shoes down-downs to Joannie and Two Bottles and to drag in freeloader Baywatch Babe who had only just turned up for the free beer and food. A final stint from Five-Year-Old-Shit saw Blow Pipe in for over-exposing RA FYOS himself, Trude for forgetting to take her camera and lastly but by no means leastly, Pubic Hare for managing not to give any history lessons at the holding check at the pink palace. With that, the circle was closed and the excellent food served. Many thanks to Trude and Kristian for arranging this and to Tall man for provision of the food and facilities. On On, Towed
Get a life
A new US-Aus “relationship”?
Is there a Red under her bed?
See, I have got a Hash T-shirt
Vast expanses of flesh
Who’s Adam’s Apple?
The providers