DHAKA MIXED HASH – RUN NO 1433			18^th October 2008
A
Hares: Groper, Over Exposed, Daniel & Crotchey (who?)				Hashers: 59
Virgins: Ciro, Sany				New Runner: Saad, Mashuk
Leavers: Tall Man, Can’t Pull		Returnees: Truck Yanker, Rocks Off, Gorf
	The Run Meeting at AIS-D we all thought that this was going to be a street run, but then when we got to the meet, the Hares had very kindly prepared little maps to show us how to get to the start. It looked even worse than a street run – more like an Old Town run but in the wrong place – as we had to head 3km south. Eventually the convoy all made it but there was a certain misunderstanding about the “self-drive OK” notice as Groper instructed “runners to start from here but walkers to stay in their cars as you’re starting somewhere else”. None of us were to finish in the same place either but somehow it all worked. Must be the Kiwi mind set. So there we were on this big new road with lots of people around wondering what the fuck was going on. When we started running, half the youth population of the area ran with us. To everyone’s surprise, however, we soon got out into open country with FRBs Bozo and Gorf leading the way, and lost our young escorts. Checks were coming thick and fast and it seemed like every one was an excuse for a photo op. Anyway the trail was nice – on grassy sand or sandy grass, depending on your point of view, but then we got into the tall grass. This was most reassuring. No sooner had we got in there than there was the sound of crackling and burning coming from upwind of us. Great – I could just see the headlines in the next day’s New Age – Hash Fries!! Anyway, it turned out not to be a problem as the stuff seemed still too wet to burn well. Then I went and got lost in the tall grass. If you could pick the Hasher that you most wanted to get lost in the tall grass with, Can’t Pull would possibly not be near the top but at least the bugger could see a bit. Our fellow explorer was Camel Jockey! Ahh well. We eventually emerged, having ploughed our way through some pretty filthy conditions and rediscovered the pack who we had always been able to hear. Groper, meanwhile, running about 100 metres behind the FRBs was yelling instructions at them. I reckon if Gorf wants to bugger off in completely the wrong direction then he’s welcome to, and the more FRBs he takes with him the better. Towards the end of the run, we did find the canal that the Hares claimed had been dug between them recceing the run (that is the three Hares that weren’t Over Exposed whose approach to back haring was to ask the person closest to him where the paper was and where everyone else had gone!) and setting it that morning. It caused a minor detour that was soon overcome and we got to the On-In as darkness was falling. Miraculously, all the cars seemed to be there despite some having been left at the start.
	The Circle So we stumbled across the ditch lined with broken brick, trying to avoid exposed bits of what seemed to be seriously soggy shiggy and gathered in the middle of a substantial open space. The beer was relocated about three times as the GM worked out which particular bit of scrubby grass she wanted to be standing on. Once that was all worked out she got her battery operated thingy out and called the circle to order. Since the circle had already been formed and re-formed at least three times this wasn’t too much of a problem. The Hares were called in and the general vote seemed to be that the run had been a bit too grassy and distinctly unsexy. There is absolutely no hope for this Hash if, on a run that spends fifty percent of its time running through ten foot high grass, they cannot manage a bit of sex on the quiet. If this was unsexy, what chance has a Gulshan street run of being so? (Mind you, on the basis of an encounter last night as I left the Aussie club, every chance if it runs in the dark!) Then there was a bit of confusion about the virgins, and the more I look at my notes, the more confusing it becomes. Firstly Saad came in but it was established that he’d run on that other hash, so wasn’t a virgin so would he kindly fuck off out of the circle. The names I have written down who ended up in the circle are Maklo, who is from Dhaka and was brought by someone illegible and Gilda who is from France and came with Patrick. So who the fuck were Ciro and Sany who appeared on the official list? And am I bovvered? Saad then got his turn along with Mashuk(?) who is from Chittagong and had run on a hash there. It’s a long way to come every Saturday, but we’re happy to see you. Returnees were Rocks Off who is back from the bush, Truck Yanker who said he’d been on holiday in England and Gorf who’d been bonking his way round France and Thailand. Leavers were Tall Man and Can’t Pull who were off to the Mekong Hash. Then it was over to Bozo who pulled me in for looking like a black and white minstrel (for those too young or too foreign to know, a slightly non-pc UK music show in the fifties) as I’d managed to crash in the burnt grass and accumulate a fair covering of charcoal. Then Lucien was called in. Lucien, according to Bozo, is a Transylvanian calf molester. Since not all of the pack had witnessed the event on the run, Hacqueur Fucqueur was called in to play the part of the calf. Towards the end of the run, Lucien had been seen by a lot of the runners (but not Emily) cuddling a little fluffy calf and groping around it’s nether regions. HF, on hearing this, decided that she was definitely not going to play the part of the calf! Animal expert Sucker was asked to join them both whilst Bozo explained to him the differences between a calf and a goat, since Sucker was all for christening Lucien Goat Fucker 2. Bozo then launched into a tale of new shoes – basically if you want to buy new shoes, it’s best not to ask the RA to do it for you! This sad tale was interrupted briefly for Tall Man and Rocks Off to be hauled in for private partying before miscreant Lip Service was called in to sup from the aforementioned new footwear, and a good job she made of it too. Down-downs for a couple of the Hares followed – Over Exposed for continually having to ask the rest of the pack which way to go and Groper for pretty much the opposite sin of screaming his lungs out like a raving Nazi telling the FRBs which way to go. The whole point, you daft Kiwi bastard, is that they’re supposed to find their own way like you do on every other Saturday. Then that was it. Announcements about the following day’s World Peace Through Beer run and the opportunity to sponsor a page of the Hash Calendar for 2009. It costs only taka 2,500 to do this and you can get all your favourite or least favourite Hashers on your page and put silly captions or speech balloons on the picture. Then it was back into some serious traffic and on to the Bagha for a few more. On On Towed