Mentiri By-pass, Heart By-pass Run. Nov 27th 09

Excellent run by GI JANE, MammasandthePapasan, Linda and Crew!
plus muchos-kudos to Raisin for agreeing to help Rizan out for next week's run.

A gentle reminder to new hashers who've yet to lay a run and they have one coming up in the next few months.
Don't procrastinate!
Approach someone 'in-the-know' well in advance of your run date to ask for help with recceing/cutting/laying your run.
If you leave it till the last minute(i.e. the week before) then it undoubtedly means someone else has to volunteer to set your run, hence, defeating the whole purpose of the list.
The list is there to get everyone involved with the logistics of setting a run and doing their bit for the hash.
Once you've set a run you will appreciate the next one you run on especially if there has been obvious cutting involved and home preparation of food.

Speaking of doing your bit for the hash can we have some volunteers please for this year's sign-in board??
Cheng did it for ages but is now in Penang so it's a position waiting to be filled.
Approach any hash mismanagement next week if you want to do your bit for the hash.

Neither PeeWee nor myself, SimonThePieman, will be at next week's hash, Clairey is rebuilding a monastery in Cambodia in a sponsored-naked-brick-laying competition whilst I'm off to Germany to buy myself a sense of humour for next year.

The Shout-Up will be ably commandeered by Sweet F$ck-All and Storyteller.
You have this advance warning to buy comfortable chairs from GL Camping as Storyteller will be reading aloud the first chapter of her new book 'Dreams of a Genius TramGirl' as soon as they have two people on the ice.

We had to bid adieu to Condom Girl and Ironsides who saved up his best joke of the year for telling on his very last shout-up.
We also had a returning hasher in Double-Time looking refreshed and prosperously fit and tanned and the inimitable ex-JM Puteri aka Swannie aka Helen Swan Thespian and Drama Queen extraordinaire looking even more curvaceous and fit than she was when she left for more sandier shores.

The Count of MonteChristo told his best joke of the year also but unfortunately due to dodgy acoustics (not PeeWee's farting) only a few of his intended audience got the punchline.
Regardless, I got cramp in my intercostal muscles from laughing, so even more kudos to him.

Anyway!

It's opposite Tanjung Bunut Hua Ho for the run at Raisin's house next week, December 4th.
See the Google Earth Map Paint image below for directions from Gaydong.

Onnity-onnity.

SimonThePieman

p.s. would the person who swiped/stole/pilfered/misappropriated/borrowed the ftg-learned gentleman from Wiltshire's Sack, please bring it along to the shout-up next week. His prescription Gregory Pecks were in the bag plus he needs said sack for December 24th. Thank-you very much.

Roz-Rapunzel's Rumbunctious Rapier Range Run

Rapier Range
This week’s run is at Rapier Range and it’s designed and fabricated by Roz ably assisted by Lionel Cucumber.
Lionel Cucumber being the very same gentleman who dragged and carried a young guest out the jungle last week . This young lady had been suffering from heat exhaustion and somehow or other managed to escape from her host and big sister Ling.
How this managed to transpire is anybody’s guess but given that Mal was in charge of the horn and Ling would possibly have been by his side, it’s probable that the young lady in question found the initial pace too dull, perambulatory and somewhat slow and therefore felt the need for speed and escaped.

Later, HashShit was bestowed upon Ling for several reasons;
• Allowing her sister/first-time guest to head off ahead alone unassisted/guided.
• Allowing her sister to be left at the mercy of the impromptu first-aid team who vigorously rubbed liniment into already swollen pores which caused extreme pain and much subsequent grief.
• And, allowing her sister to eat mee before the run by inhalation rather than chewing. This was noted when she vomited said mee as she felt the primary effect of heat exhaustion in the form of dizziness and nausea. The mee was seen to be as it would prior to ingestion i.e. wholly unmasticated.
It’s thought at time of writing false teeth have been ordered for Uan Uan and training in the way of chewing prior to swallowing will also be part of after-school work for the next few weeks.
Many raved about the trip into the jungle up at Long Foreskin, it was seen as a roaring success and some hashers are known to have given up their day-jobs and house husbandry and are now cultivating avocadoes and grapefruits to sell in the Lawas wet market.
Several hotties on the hash were showing off identical tattoos which allegedly said Porridge in Swahili.
It was noted in conversation with the hotties that Porridge rhymes with Courage and it was suggested Courage might have been a better choice for something that is not ‘just for Christmas’ but in fact for life.
Condom Girl was one of the esteemed hares and was celebrating 400 runs!
Jet stole a pair of pedal pushers from the Pussycat Dolls and was later seen canoodling with two of them during a photo-shoot.
The Pussycat Dolls' representatives were not available for comment but it was heard that both of the young lady singers were intrigued by Jet's ability to ignite their womanly desires with just a few words of franglais.
An impromptu game of Charades rounded up the evening though eventually it descended into a scene from ‘One flew over the Cuckoo’s nest’ with the addition of one hash member.
This young man added colour to the proceedings whilst chain-smoking and screaming obscenities in the form of ridiculously random answers, all the while frothing rabidly at the mouth in his excitement and onset of Tourettes.

Diplomacy .....

....is an Artform.
This crossed my mind when I heard one of our esteemed members regale another with the affectionate term 'you buffoon!'

Last week saw us Brunei H4 hashers at the Rapier Range on the right hand-side of the highway, towards Tutong, over-looking the South China Sea.
A boutique hash as Lone Ranger might describe it but a nice little crowd we had.

Some volunteers had to step in at the eleventh hour (once again) to set this week's run.

This prompted a mass e-mail to every member reminding them of their hash duties.
That is, if you have a hash number, i.e. are a member, you HAVE to set a run when it's your alloted turn.

If you can't set it for whatever reason then you have to organise someone else to do it on your behalf.

Do not leave it for someone else to sort out.

Your run is your responsibility!

See you guys at DIPLO tonight.





Friday 28th August, 2009.

Wow!! it's Diplo again....

Yeah you guessed it.
It's Diplo again.







Onnity-onnity.

Diplomacy

Well folks, it's Diplo once again this week, the land that's still capable of sending hordes of experienced ramblers/runners/hashers into ever decreasing circles and near hysteria when they happen to lose the paper.
It'd bring tears to a gless eye as if ye were tae cast yer mind back to some particularly memorable evenings.
Am sure ye may recall the voices of old, stalwart hashers arguing with each other and threatening to 'rip each others hearts oot' as they disagree with each others ridiculous ideas of how tae escape the clutches o' the gloomy confines that be Diplo Forest.
'Bettah we go thissaway lah!'....'No lah! you no be so f#cking stupid one...that way velly fah! we cum out tomollo go that way.....i may be back running fat bastdah but me know Diplo you know'
I recall at the dead of night, scrambling over horrenedous, tottering deadpiles with jagged windfallen trees and their newly snapped and lethally-sharpened limbs pointing up threatening to disembowel/castrate the unwary lost hasher should they slip and fall.
Staggering almost drunken with exhaustion across slippery branches, shit-scared, my football boots slipping,teetering at the brink, family jewels shriveliing inside my nutsack, only to see Poh Sheng leap the same dead-pile with consumate ease.
Then to add insult to injury (heaps of scratches from thorns ferns etc) we discover at the end of the hash (after a gloriously gleeful exit from said jungle) that it was indeed a fuck-up by the front running bastards who called us down into the Centre of The Earth then promptly f*ck+d off and left us there at the mercy of the whingers and moaners and every spirit that haunts those very trees as soon as they had an idea of where they were.

Other nights have seen us in there albeit On Paper but on paper till ten-o-bloody-clock.

Happy-happy joy-joy Diplo can be.
Run Like hell-one 4 hours fifty minutes and 43.
Methinks Jackson was in the SS in a former life
Marching pow's for days at threat of death by rusty knife.

We went updale and downdale and still it went on....
Salivating and gibbering like newly found animal phenomenon.
Torches a plenty? no I'm afraid ladies an gents... NOT.
Visions for hash makan....Jackson boiled in a big pot.

Happy Happy Joy Joy Diplo can be
Only sweat and cursing; no joyful revelry.
A ten pm exit is by far the worst we've had
The wellyman on ees knees;
'that was shite' murmured the poor lad.

Happy Happy Joy Joy Diplo can be
It's the Lone Ranger cutting today, just you wait and see
While he may be shite at calling and f&cking-off leaving us all to die
He does cut a lovely run wi' waterfalls, escarpments an udder 'tings' pleasin to the eye.

A runner's run is what he likes and does 'do' one in return
You can run like blazes, legs a-pumping, lungs fit to burn.
He cuts a bonnie trail he does; our Knight in Shining Armour.....
We should rename him the Accentless Great White Charger.

Happy Happy Joy-joy Diplo can be
That's enough waxing lyrical, i need to go for a pee.





















So that's DIPLO for today the 19th day of June 2009.
Onitty-onnity.

DoSToyevsky

This weeks run like the novelist Fyodor Dostoyevsky, will be both hairy and very clever.
With respect to tenuous links to this gentleman's literary prowess that's as far as it goes.
However, tomorrow we will all be going on the run as far as it goes.
That is because many a man and woman hare hath gone the DST way over the past few weeks, hacking and heaving their valiant way through virgin jungle and heathen swamp in order to carve out a challenging and throbbingly long and hard run for us all.

Tales of wenches in ripped frocks and men in sweaty garments bedraggled and knackered, cut and torn, smelly and starving after hours of swinging their large choppers through the undergrowth, laying waste to huge swathes of razor-grass, monitor lizards and crocodiles be damned.
More tales of Amazonian type Australian women with a penchant for all things crustacean who can swim 1km of the Olympic sized pool in Berakas in one sitting, having to lift and carry two fellow hares under each arm on the way back to DST base camp as her counterparts were too fucked and frothy at the mouth to continue.

She would say this is all in a days work but she would be being humble and contrite and ashamed because cutting trails in the jungle is indeed a terrible fetish for this girl.
Her nipples become like coat-pegs at the mere thought of sharpening her huge parang and she trembles at the thighs when she thinks of the sound the blade makes as it surges through the grass and reeds as she lays waste to the botanical bounties quivering with fear before her mighty swaithes.
A recce fetish is what she has if truth be told.

Slash and burn techniques which she learnt of in Higher Geography on vhs videos smuggled in from Indonesia, brought gasps of horror to the mouths of her tree-hugging peers, but, secretly this Biology Major got her first orgasm when she saw the land being laid flat by the pygmy people of Borneo as they made room for their first petrol station outside Limbang not that far from Linggi's (with two eyes).

Recce after recce does nothing to satiate the appetite of this lady and ever since joining the hash she has been pleading with every hasher who has their name down to set a run to allow her to be the one with the big-sharp-thing who cuts the trail at the front.

The merry band of hashers who have their name down for this week's run took pity on the marine biologist and let her join them.
They did say however that she had to beef up her bra-padding a bit with toilet paper or old socks so as her nipples would not cause a hazard to her fellow hackers when they were in the jungle.

So, to cut a long story even longer, as my brothers used to say, you have a tremendous run ahead of you tomorrow (or today if you are reading this on Friday the 12th June 2009).
Be sure not to mention nipples-like-scabbled-wheel-nuts to any 'ozzie' hares after the run please.
Thanks very much.


A few random pictures which may have been slightly doctored to embarrass and perhaps amuse you.
No apologies will be forthcoming nor shall the author take years off your wrinkly auld chops with Photoshop in the next post, unless of course you bribe him with a bottle of Black Label.











...watch this space...



So its good night from him and it's good night from me too.

D S T ....onnity-onnity.

Upper Diplo

There will be no blog report this week due to lack of interest and the author having kidney troubles.
He 'kidney' be bothered...and nobody is interested.



Site is Upper Diplo..

Shiver me Timbers! Thar be Diplo .....

Arrr..me hearties.
It be thart toime of the week againe.
We be off into that thar jungle looking fer that thar treasure that we aint yet fahnd. It be known to me that this ere treasure moight nevah maike itself fahnd.
Arrrr that be roight, we go lookin every farking week we do but not one land-lubber nor one sea-salty-ship-mate on arrh 'ash the BH4, an thar be a few, have evah fahnd that thar treasure.

Oi seen a map oi did, many a moon ago when I waz a lahd an it 'ahd on it the island that be Borneo.
An on that map thar wehre the immor'al wurds; fountain o youth an a big X.


But stone me ladds and lassies it were all scrumpled up an soggy it bein just pulled from the stomach of a big friggin shark oo ahd jahst gobbled up me best mate; Cap'n Ringpiece the Fird.
Arrrrghh yeah shiver me timbers! it be true there woz a map but am not tellin yuse no moah de'ails. You can all just keep draggin your biscuity-arsed selves into that forest wiv all 'em Dipterocarp and foind it yerselves so ye shall.
The fahntain o yooff indeed.

The secret elixir from the grahnd many an ole timer an young un be dreamin abaht in the ope theys kin live forevah!
I ere tell from me old ship-mates on the H.M.S.Rumpledforeskin, tales of men who've been 'alf knackered, near dead an that, lungs riddled wiv the Big C, legs farked, faces as long as Leith Walk, in uvver wurds about f**%ed, ready to meet their maker, knocking on 'eavens' do-ah, stretching to be pushin' up 'em daisies an all that, when aht ov de blue, they been an stumbled across that fabled an hallowed plaice; the valley that 'olds the Fountain of Yoof'.
They've 'alf stumbled dahn there and slipped on their skinny auld arse splashin into that-their magical wa'er.
Sekunnds later! they be up an rahninng abaht all ovah the f@*king shop int they!?
It's truly a miracle they say, to see a man abaht dead; an all ov a sudden, he's back to been a young back againe.
Incredible to see all told.

Oi've eard too that a few wenches ave 'ad a go dippin their ugly old bunioned feet into that thar wa'ta and yeah, same fing as appened.
Begging your pardon ladies an gents but not the eggxact same fing you unnderstan, their saggy auld thruppeny-bits abaht draggin on the grahnd wan minute then they aw perky an lovley again.
No wot OI mean?
Course ya do.


So yeah, it's true you ave to look fer it moind cos its in thar, four shew-ah.
If you be feelin aawl creaky an sore an old and decrepit you oughtta be getting yourselves up to that place dis weeken' cos oi here tell that thar holy wa'er up at Merarap might well be cumming from that Fahn'in Ov Yoof.
Oi ain' promisin nuffin cos rejuvenation aint in the oitinerary but dip yer buttocks inter that thair wa'er as much as you kan, cos you just nevah knoe doh yah??

Arrrr...
If you wanna jus run on Froiday get yer biscuity-arses allong to Diplo, thers' tales a foot ovv' a fahntain in there an all.