May 2013 | By: The Scrutable Scribe
Have We Had a Motion Today?
May the fourth be with you, as they say in "Thtar Warth" and it was indeed, on this hysterical occasion of the Annual General Meeting of Bali Hash House Harriers TWO! on the equally suspicious day of the 1,111th run of this steamed body; taking place at the Ambara Stage, at Tegal, Bigin, Mas, which obviously had nothing to do with a furniture factory, had it?
Yes, it was a solemn and sober occasion as the meeting was declared open by a man with an Irish accent under a coconut tree (Monkey Balls) and a another man with a ridiculous hat and an extremely unlikely shirt (Screaming Lord Clitoris) took notes and addressed the shareholders with a brief summary of how many kegs had been consumed in the last 12 months of business (150) and what funds remained in the company account (a whopping, approximately, USD $900.00). A brief but moving address was given by outgoing Hash Master Wooden Eye which distilled to its essence was: We drank a lot of piss and ran a bit. The shareholders were unanimous in agreement, and demonstrated their appreciation with a short but heartfelt burst of applause. Outgoing Hash boutique was asked for a financial summary of that income stream of the company and their admirably astute response was "No idea". Monkey Balls appropriately noted that Hash Boutique was "a source of pride for B.H.H.H.2".
But seriously folks, I'm not taking the piss. I usually enjoy committee meetings about as much as kerosene enemas; this was way more fun than, say, Microsoft's A.G.M. The meeting proceeded smoothly with the exception of a mini rant by Rabid Mangy Dog about a malfeasance episode of 25 years ago, and some other impenetrable complaints. This was duly noted and no notice or action was given or taken whatsoever. It is a democratic institution, after all. The "motion" that Wooden Eye and Labia be proposed as R.A. and Hash master respectively was tabled, seconded and passed as Labia obliviously carried on a discussion on the sidelines so earnest that it looked as if he were hiring the services of a hit man. "Hey Labia" shouted Monkey Balls, you've just been nominated Hash master, do you wanna do it?" "Who me?" was the puzzled response, "Yeah, okay". It went something like that as I recall. Thus was the gravity and formality of the occasion.
Though the run itself was ostensibly set by the committee, it was suspiciously Monkey Balls himself again addressing the crowd to give us the choice of a long, a short and a super short and to enlighten us that there would be a live hare start. It seems, finally, that my constant harangues on this issue may be getting through to hares, good stuff. Still, there was a coven of early starting Chindos who readily and gleefully admitted to yours truly their transgression during the course of the run. Evidently they are either unable to read or speak much Bahasa Inggeris or don't give a shit, or both. Any potential translators out there: I would dearly appreciate a word or two to the offenders that early starting is taken a dim view of, rather than something to be crowed about. Thank you.
It was a fairly pleasant run, it must be said and went off pretty well other than Horny Herring and Gudang having some kind of weird sympathetic condition that rendered them virtually unable to progress two or three paces without falling unceremoniously on their arses. It was curious to behold but most entertaining. And it was hot, Christ in quaint European folk costume (perhaps lederhosen) it was hot out there; it's been absurdly and unseasonably hot for days, ain't it? Well I've had enough, do you hear? I won't put up with it. I just won't, boo hoo. There was some lovely padi territory as well; too bad we had to recoil from the glare of the water and sweat like bishops defrocking choir boys. Short runners made it back in 40 minutes with long runners not far behind. Something had once again gone wrongedy wrong, about which there was much post-mortem; but it didn't matter, it was too bloody hot to be doing anything sweatily strenuous anyway.
It was a fractured circle this week, with a tucker break in the middle which made it kind of difficult if not impossible to get everybody to re-assemble, but well worth it if you did. All manner of manic events eventuated including Comes Up winning an abs competition, Wooden Eye exacting considerable revenge upon the persons of two Phuket hashers who had iced him in that location (Phuket). He dramatically hurled ice to the ground smashing it to shards and proceeded to apply it surgically to various body parts. De-pantser General, Hot Lips had a busy day as did Grand Master Night Jar, Disco Wanker, and Jangle Balls who out-spoonered Spooner with "Rindercella and the Sugly Isters", a bed time story. Virtual Erection's stop-start joke telling session was hilarious.
So it went and so it will continue to go with Wooden Eye and Labia at the helm. As The Who said, "Meet the new boss, same as the old boss", thank
Christ.
On on
