Was it that the last three hashes weren’t exciting or funny enough to warrant their own individual trashes? Or was your hash scribe just too busy during the last weeks? (I know most of you wouldn’t believe that anyway.) Fact is, this a three-in-one abbreviated- version-small-font special keeping you abreast of what went on during the last 2 Saturdays as well as the past week’s famous Wed. Night BaiYun Mt. Run
January 5th saw another BaiYun Mt. live hash courtesy of D.M.P.I. & Wasted Seed. Yawwwn! I don’t want to diminish the volunteering effort of the hares, but shouldn’t we be able to do live hashes somewhere else than on that damned mountain? I can find my way around it sleepwalking by now.
Anyway, there we were. Thanks to Ivy’s negotiating talents Caveman was able to secure one kuai price-reduced student tickets for the park entrance. For all of you who ridiculed that: that’s a 34 kuai saving or the equivalent of 10 beers! (See, I know that’s the language you understand.)
Big Top came equipped with a white Beijing dog named ‘Richard’ and Yan Can Suck with a set of male boxer shorts. We were lucky she had made it at all, since the first telephone contact that morning had found her locked into her house without a clue about the whereabouts of the key. It obviously had been a heavy duty Fri night.
To the defense of the hares: they tried to vary the trail this time by leaving the park literally through some folks’ living room and then doing some asphalt cruising behind the new BaiYun indoor sports arena. But tell me, why the hell I buy tickets, when you guys leave the park after only 15 minutes? Next time try to enter the frigging park that way!
Sheepshaggers & Fags!
The circle was not much to howl about save the fact that StrapOn tried to improve his outfit by wearing a sheep- skin around his shoulders. That a) should tell you something about the status of his normal outfit and b) posed him in constant danger of being mounted by one of the present Kiwis.
Yan Can Suck, Ben and StrapOn were lauded for their ceaseless endeavours to improve their physical shape, despite the fact that their chain-smoking is most probably over-compensating their efforts. At least they buy their own fags, which is not known of D.M.P.I. Ah yes, and No Pulse insisted to perform a hash wedding for Platterpuss and Joy.
Where are the Nymphos?
January 12th: A record crowd of 56 as- sembled to experience the much touted Panyu hash. Last week’s hash virgin Patrick had probably worked overtime to enroll 9 newcomers just by himself. So what was it going to be today? Top- less nymphs posted along the way? Trails strewn with rose petals? Or a sumptuous BBQ on on at Squat and Thrust’s? Countless speculations mixed into the idle chatter as the bus drew close to the hash site that stretched behind Clifford Estate up to G.I. hill. The bus and the car that is, as new- comer Windy (thar she blows) followed us in a chauffeured sedan. Talk about snobbism on the hash.
Well, to cut a long story short, there were no nymphs nor rose petals and for the on on BBQ we had to move to the Bostan. But it was a pretty good run with a decent hilly stretch thrown in for good measure. It was there on the hill when Spiderman and Minicock accidentally long-cutted while trying to short-cut. (There went the spoils of deceit.).
The circle took some time to get started, what with 56 people having to change clothes and relieve their bladder. Since we had 21 newcomers in all (an- other record) we had a veritable drink- ing competition organized with a final and a priceless 555 shirt for the win- ners. Bv the time we were through with the newcomers and returnees it was almost getting dark.
As an opener Platterpuss enlightened us with the tale of how the Limeys got their name. Because at the time the royal navy was plowing the high seas to add new colonies to Her Majesty’s domain the sailors aboard (apart from sucking each other) were made to suck on limes to avoid their teeth falling out from scurvy. So what did we learn from this story? 1. Limeys suck. 2. More limes for Guangdong!
Then Necro Pimp and Shag’s On were spinning some yarn about how they met up at LanKwaiFong the other day and spent the night karaokeing. What’s the joke? Don’t know. Even Mr. Bean confessed, that he didn’t understand much of what the two were saying.
The Shiggy Award went to Echo, who, by the way, was carrying her mobile phone in her panties during the walk (was the vibrator active?). And the HLM Award was truly earned by Thrust, who, walking backwards while leading the walkers, tripped over.
Last but not least we had two namings: James was anointed Ginger Nuts, playing on his hair colour and some English cookies of the same name. Anita got baptized Suction Pump due to some heavy kissing action going on one night at Elle’s. (Sorry, I missed the details on that story as I was distracted by a Chinese lady at just that mo- ment. Priorities, you know.)
And Mt. Beaver obviously thought she would go to the wedding of Kanaan as she was trying to feed 50-plus people with one pack of beef jerky.
This Wed. a veritable crowd of 12 fit- ness geeks gathered for the 7th Wed. Night BaiYun Mt. Run. Due to the size of the group complete with newcomers and guests we decided to make it an official hash. The circle was held in front of the Sportsman’s joined by guest drin- kers Power Puss (sporting a fur bag, that just looked a bit too much like the orphan cat she adopted a month ago), Pussysniffer and his look-alike son.
And we had a true novelty: the first nam- ing on a Wed. night hash: newcomer Michelle was dubbed G-Spot for her sporting of a sweater bearing a G and a couple of spots (instead of promoting her employer Adidas). What shattered my believe in Chinese girls however, was that none of them had the foggiest what a G spot was. Luckily Skidmarks volunteered for some practical education.
On On Caveman