March 2013 | By: The Scrutable Scribe
Bali HHH2, the Abridged Version (not)
I guess if any body ever asks you could say this was the "Two Bridges and a Primary School Run", or if asked who the hare was you could say it was "Two Bridges Bemo". But that's not giving it the full appreciation it is due. In the true spirit of longer and longer drives to get to a site AND without the intrusion or irritation of a sign anywhere, it was about as far as you'd want to drive to get anywhere; and of course in the true spirit of longer and longer hashes, the long was announced as a "three hour walk". Not only did this eerily and ominously echo the theme song to "Gilligan's Island" ( "a three hour walk, a three hour walk") but it set off such rabid paranoia in the sensitive early starters that all but two hashers and a dog were left standing in the car park like spare pricks at a wedding waiting for 4.30.
So, other than that, how was the play Mrs. Lincoln? As it turns out, it was very pleasant, almost Constable-like in its sylvan and bucolic surrounds. No, Constable is not a police officer as I have previously pointed out in these pages, but a painter of the 18th century English countryside. He did not come up behind people say " 'Ullo, 'ullo, 'ullo, What's all this then?" and proceed to set up his easel and line them up with an upturned thumb and brush, so let's not go there (too late). Some of the checks were a bit long, actually very long, okay, ridiculously long, no, absurdly long but the whole thing was thoroughly enjoyable and only really about 15 minutes longer than normal (normal?). So, earlyists, there was no need to so comprehensively shit yourselves after all. Do try to keep things in perspective will you, much like me, who is not at all an alarmist or a critic, okay?
Now, where were we? Our sympathies this week have to go out to young Balderdash (Jangle Balls Jr.) whose hash ambitions were cut short by a malevolent branch cut off at head height that sneaked up on him and delivered some nasty abrasions to the facial area. Hardy hars also go out to J. Balls Sr. who went arse over tit in a most spectacular manner assisted by a small trunk of vegetation cut off at ankle height and in front of a Harriet and a young female local who also assisted him by way of pissing themselves laughing at his misfortune so enthusiastically they almost hit the deck themselves. J. B. was uninjured, but his dignity is in ruins. Beware of cut off vegetation. This has been a public service announcement from the Balls Family, thank you Balls Family.
And while we are on the subject of dogs: Att Hashers with dogs, I have had a number of complaints (three, but I didn't canvass for them) about certain pooches getting underfoot in high places such as the Irish Run last week etc. and in situations where one false move may be your last. The hashers who have put forth these complaints have done so in fairly vehement terms to the point were It would be indelicate to repeat some of the language used. Let's just say that I do not wish to be held responsible for attempts on any canine lives while in the wilds. In short, just put the bloody things on a leash, wouldja? We have asked several times before for this consideration, especially on Hashes with precipitous features. It's kind of pissing people off, 'nuffsaid.
And so we come in a roundabout manner (har) to the circle. It was quite a doozy this week, despite the absence of Wooden Eye, Night Jar or visiting R.A.s, consisting mainly of one very extended joke telling session. This format seems to be gaining popularity with attendees and it is encouraging indeed to see figures such as Agent Orange centre stage who until recently would have no sooner danced naked with a party trumpet at Simpang Sior on Hari Nyepi than tell a joke in the circle. It is also heartening to see Harriets such as Sex on the Desk breaking the glass ceiling and old hands like Whitebait bust a couple out . Keep up the good work folks, and for those whose violets are still shrinking, don't be afraid to get in there and crack a funny or two. Nobody's going to shoot you, well, depending on the joke…as the saying goes: fuck 'em if they can't take a bad joke.
By the way, a small sample (as it were) of Hashers was taken as to what the two best and most welcome words in the English language are. Opinions were unanimous: "on in".
On on.
