The herding mass left the Scandinavia Bar at 2:00 pm and shambled to a waiting coach. After a breezy twenty five minute drive down the highway and a surprisingly smooth ride through a small seaside town – this bus driver is a better than most - we alight at the mouth of Pissed Pole Dancer’s (PPD) soi. A few meters walk and we’re in front of PPD’s lovely home – a big cut above the usual outpost. The early arrivals were busy fortifying themselves with electrolytes. A loose circle and Semen Stains reviewed the three points of order for the virgins. Did anyone listen? Oddjob steps in to explain that the trail had been set on Friday and Saturday morning. Since we had rain that morning, the paper was soggy. The sky is still partly overcast, but the rain should stay away for awhile.
Right. Off we go back through the center of town. The trail veers into an empty lot and we’re soon into the bush. FRB’s are already setting the pace as the pack crisscrosses a large open field. Then it’s back into the sparse suburban brush and some nice smooth trails. Although Oddjob’s paper is soggy, there’s enough of it to guide our ragtag crew down the muddy path. False trails keep the FRB’s in check.
After twenty five minutes, we’re off paper as we approach the road. What’s this, why it’s Oddjob on a motorbike followed by the piss wagon! Good timing, as everyone is warmed up, loose, and ready for a splash. And we don’t even have to cross the road! Now we’re off again, everyone tanked up and chomping at the bit. The trail starts to get a little wetter, and we take a turn through a labyrinthine installation of large blue screen-like objects. What are those things? We’re really moving, bounding over smooth village roads. Around a corner…and there’s Oddjob again! Twelve minutes after the first stop, here he is – this time with chocolate bars. Probably a soldier in a previous life. As we all stand there panting, Knickerless creates a scene with her shorty shorts, prompting a curious onlooker to proclaim, “Madame sexy maak maa!” Knickerless breathes a resigned sigh, as alas, the admirer has one wrong chromosome. She’s right though, Knickerless is sexy – if it wasn’t for her, people would throw bombs at us, instead of just unleashing their dogs.
Okay, enough sugar. Oddjob lets us know we’re on our own from here on in. And we are, slogging through rice fields, up levees, down gullies, ducking through forests, jumping canals, looping back on ourselves, tripping and falling and diving and calling! There’s even some tall grass to slow everyone down. Over rice paddies, back on the levee, on through the bush. On and on it goes over a variety of terrain.
As we head to the sand, we pass a military installation, the guards maintaining impassive stares. Ah, we’ve landed on the beach; surely we are close to the objective. Two hundred meters is enough, and we cut right, back inland. There’s the On In! Yes, yes, we can smell it, we can taste it, we’re so close fer chrissake! A jog right, dodge a few land sharks, a jog left, and we’re home after 1 hour and 25 minutes on trail.
As the pack filters in, we realize the extent of Hash Gourmet Pissed Pole Dancer’s hospitality. She’s laid it out – cream of cauliflower soup, homemade bread, omelet’s, Parma ham, etc. - yummy! Thanks Pissed Pole Dancer!
On to the circle then! Grab a chair and make yourself comfortable, as the transgressions were numerous. Two twenty kilo blocks of ice beckoned the transgressors.
Semen Stains started the fun by honoring Oddjob for heroically filling in as hare. The run was roundly applauded as a first class effort.
Milestone runs for Disgusting with 13 Pattaya Bush runs, and Semen Stains with 26.
Double down-downs for Bell End for flaking on hare duties for the Phuket Hash. Also double down-downs for Arsehopper for shirking haring duties for the Pattaya Bush Hash. Arsehopper took the fifth when asked to comment.
No More Cum was observed attempting to poison a soi dog. A serious offense for which he was duly punished. In a possibly related incident, Miserable Person offered up his dog-poisoning service for the paltry fee of 1000 baht per tainted sausage. What is it about food with this guy; Miserable Person was also punished for wasting PPD’s luscious vittles, as a large pile of eggs accumulated on the ground in front of his chair.
A visiting Yakuza contingent from Okinawa drank it down, simply for being themselves. These Cobra Gold rejects were FRB’s, obviously accustomed to staying only a few steps ahead of pursuing MP’s. One of the group, #2 GI, compounded his troubles by falling into the mud out on trail. This filthy hasher was called into the circle and was punished!
Buttcrack took a fall too. His was a beautiful, poetic, ballet – a swooping and soaring, inverted, head over heels tumble that amazed…no one. Drink.
What? Another Buttcrack? The place is lousy with Buttcracks. This ass chasm was refunded his coin, simply for being the 500th hasher to run the Pattaya Bush Hash.
Knickerless took her place in the circle. Seems she was observed out on trail chasing after a group of tanned, athletic bodies, desperately shouting, “Stop those men! This horny harriette was invited to cool her creamy love cakes on two forty pound blocks of frozen salt peter! Why does everyone have a camera all of a sudden?
Crydaddy drank cold beer in the circle, for abducting Sir Chicken Fucker’s wife/girlfriend, and forcing her to administer hickies. He then had the gall to refer to this lovely lass as a “Dog”. Of course, Sir Chicken Fucker had to be punished for being such a lucky bastard; apparently, this is the second May in a row that his wife/girlfriend has fucked off without a word, leaving Sir Chicken Fucker free rein to conduct his depraved activities. Just in time too, now that the bird-flu is over.
Our previously heroic hare, Oddjob, was then sentenced for his sins. He was found guilty of “trashing” the trail with a sticky white substance. Blubbering loudly, he claimed that he lost control of his white stuff because, “My zipper was open’. Uh huh, that’s what they all say. Maybe his name should be “Handjob” instead of Oddjob. The crapper lid barely fit over his hydro-encephalic cranium.
Weed Eater and No Meat were revealed to be next month’s hares. They also revealed a nasty habit, and were punished for having sex in the circle. These two are tireless, having also performed in bike race in the morning.
By this time, the fifth generation of pubic lice was complaining about their living conditions on the blocks of ice, and the circle was mercifully dismissed. The great unwashed made for the meat wagon and enjoyed a disco-inspired trip back to funland, complete with flashing lights. On the way home, Disgusting was kicked off the bus for being, well, Disgusting!
On On!
Matt Ryder
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