DHAKA MIXED HASH – RUN NO 1432				11^th October 2008
Radisson Car Park
Hares: Dunny Gone, KBKC, Steve, Hairy Crack and DEFINITELY NOT THAT FUCKING LAZY SHITE, HOMELESS					Hashers: 62
Virgins: John & Greg	Leavers: Penis, Trek or Treat, Cloth Balls, Tuneless Cow, Extortionist, The Pussies, Jason, Ipodophile & Challenger
New Runners: none			Returnees: Cloth Balls, Towed, Jason & Deportee
Milestones: Hacqueur Fucqueur – 50 Runs; Foreskin – 75 Runs; Dunny Gone – 100 Runs; Cloth Balls – 225 Runs
		The Run In a stunning piece of group secrecy, the Hash managed to conceal from Dunny Gone that the 11^th of October was the day after the 10^th of October. It was only in a flash of abject despair on Thursday evening at the Aussie Club (I know, ‘cos I was there) that Dunny Gone twigged that the Glitter Ball was happening a lot less than 24 hours before the Hash. Desperate measures were required and he hastily arranged to set the run on Friday morning. So Friday morning dawned, probably at around 1 p.m. for anyone who’d been in the Aussie Club on Thursday and Dunny Gone’s phone goes. Its co-Hare Homeless to say that he’s awfully sorry but he can’t Hare the run after all. Clearly Homeless has no intention of applying for an Australian visa ……. ever. Time to use my favourite word again – absolute fuckwit. So a surprising number of people actually turned up for the run, considering their likely condition. I had set out for the hash with the definite intention of walking – I’m not going to beat my bad knee to bits on a crappy street run. But, of course, street walks are seriously boring and, knowing I was going to walk, I’d had a couple of beers before I left. Net result – I ran, or at least ran most of it. Spurning the usual life-threatening start down the railway, the Hares took us along the main airport road so we could enjoy the exhaust fumes. Bozo managed about 50 paces before he decided that the knee that he’d grazed when swimming on last week’s Hash was almost as painful as his head so opted for the walk. Eventually we turned off and headed down towards rickshaw bridge via a number of malodorous lanes, emerging finally opposite the last gate into Baridhara. The Hares were clearly not too concerned about any finesse – it was then straight along Road 12 and through the park, stopping for checks at the usual spots until we reached the main road. By this time I’d decided the knee had done enough work, so opted to walk back with a few others to the surprise ‘B’ point. Foreskin’s homing instincts had also taken over by this point and he was legging it back up the lakeside, nostrils flaring with the scent of beer. The runners meanwhile completed the statutory loop further south and we all eventually made it back to the Aussie club before dark.
		The Circle I’ve no real idea what was said about the run, so probably nothing other than a subdued cry of bollocks from the recently affinanced Webfart. I doubt much if the Hares really cared too much either, the state they were in. Virgins John and Greg were called upon to introduce themselves. They’re both from Oz, work for a rival company to the one wot me ‘n’ Bozo work for, and are here to do something about bridges. Quite what, I doubt if either they or anyone else knows. Returnees were Cloth Balls, back from the UK; Deportee from Canada; Jason, who had been in Delhi getting engaged – I suppose if you’re going to do something as desperate as that, you’d best do it in a shithole like Delhi. Oh, and me back from a trip to the UK and Kathmandu (visit www.aponarch.com/hhhh and read all about it in Run 1561). Leavers were Cloth Balls – back from the wife and off with the concubine – Trek or Treat, Challenger and Penis – all off to Darjeeling, The Pussies who are off to Nepal, Extortionist and Ipodophile who are off to Thailand (separately, I think, but one never knows about a man who shaves his head and wears so much pink). Oh, and Jason heading back to Delhi, probably under orders. Oh, oh, and Hash Cash heading to Nepal. That was all the notables apart from those to be certified. Hacqueur Fucqueur has done 50 Runs; Foreskin 75; Dunny Gone, 100 Runs; and Cloth Balls 225 Runs. Since Foreskin wasn’t wearing a hash T-shirt, Pubic Hare was called in as a spot drinker. Then it was over to RA Bozo for the entertainment. Having wimped out of the run, the hypocritical bastard first called in those of us who had decided that in order to preserve their health they would walk the last little bit of the run, have sweated through the bulk of it. Towed, Cloth Balls, Foreskin, Yanker and Elyse were the unwarranted victims, and just because I pointed out his own failings, Bozo decided to present me with a stiff arm down-down. Having cocked that up (i.e. I missed Foreskin when tipping it out of the mug) the bastard then poured a fresh one on my scalp. Blow Job was then called in to show how it should be done. Penis, appropriately named for this one, was called in next. Apparently she had turned up at the Glitterball with a bag full of huge papier mache cocks. The security guard, totally unfazed after looking in the bag asked if she had any cameras in there. Presumably he wanted to get a photo of all this to take back to show his wife. Then we came to the tale of the poor Homeless. To cap it all, apparently he didn’t even manage to pay the full amount for the run. Dunny Gone’s view was that he should have paid double and then been banned from the Hash for life, but in the end all he got was a lying down down-down, poured through the big pipe. We thought that Bozo was moving into some serious self-pity when, in addition to the poor chap having a grazed knee, he started moaning on about the amount of stick that had been (quite rightly) dished out to him by all and sundry when he dyed his hair nice and black earlier in the year. However, he was only building up to someone even greyer-haired than he, none other then Over Exposed, who had also dyed his hair jet black. His co-plenipotentiary, Foreskin, was also called in to show that it was possibly to get stuff that washed out next day. Continuing the theme of Glitterball antics, the Hash representation was called in en masse, with Challenger finding a new use for the giant dicks as snowshoes. Pubic Hare was singled out for special treatment, mostly through blatant jealousy from Bozo who had seen him at 3 a.m. outside the Radisson trying to flag down a taxi, still dressed as a kangaroo and with a gorgeous young girl on each paw,. Cloth Balls did a swift new shoes down-down before the Kiwis, Steve and Groper, were called in along with Hacqueur Fucqueur for a reason that I cannot decipher, but that involved the loss of a day, bribery and a stiff arm down-down for the guys, followed by a rousing reminder to HF as to exactly what a “Hacqueur” is. Finally it was time to celebrate the French revolution that occurred on the walk. Again, I can’t remember exactly what it was all about but Hacqueur Fucqueur, French Knicqueurs, Julie and Ipodophile (blokes that wear pink must be French), Slippery Hole and, for some unknown reason, Tuneless Cow were called in for, I think, getting lost. A rousing chorus of the Hashellaise concluded the circle. There was time for a couple of announcements of the World Peace Through Beer run and that on 1^st November the Halloween run is a costume Hash. Penis then tried to sell off all the used dicks without much success before the excellent food arrived. Thanks to the Hares for putting on an excellent après Hash. On On Towed