May 2013 | By: The Scrutable Scribe
Mrs. Palmer Pulls off a Biggie
Contrary to the opinions of some, hashers are not Bulgarians, sorry, vulgarians without powers of discrimination and do know a good run site and a great location, off from which to take… so take that, "some", you snobby bastards whoever you are. Thus, hashers showed up en masse at Hand Job's and Mrs. Palmer's fabulous manse situated smack bang in equally fabulous, no, utterly stunning, mouthwateringly scenic countryside opposite the Abing Terrace hotel in Tegallalang last Saturday afternoon.
There were more hashers than you could shake a rice farmer at, which also meant, an associated increase in the canine article, much to yours truly's glee, of course. All my favourites were there, and more! Mister Prickles, of course, and that sleek and lovely pet close to the heart of hash cash, gnashing and snapping at a disarming (if he got in the wrong mood) Labrador, plus a bonus something that looked like a cross between a werewolf and a merino ram complete with a fine set of dangling and rattling dags; how very hygienic for the little kiddies playing with it. I guess the "put 'em on a lead'' campaign has a ways to go yet, oh well.
We took off in a different direction than usual this time, in fact the opposite from last time, but any direction in this area is just brilliant. It's like being in the green section of a Duluxe paint fan. There are some views up there that are gaspingly expansive; Tegallalang is unrivalled in the padi department as well. It started out a bit hot but almost immediately clouded over. It was as if the hand of God had adjusted the dimmer switch of God, unfortunately the tukang of God has yet to be called in to fix the overhead fan of God and there was thus no breeze of God whatsoever. It was pretty merciful though, thanks G, b.f.f.l. Most short runners were back in 35 minutes as opposed to the advertised hour's walk, but it was worth two hours in any other location, it's just that good. I particularly enjoyed going through the irrigation water way carved through a high hillock, what a kick in the hash trousers that was.
Back at the ranchero, the chicken chaps fried up and doled out some delicious poultry bits steeped in a marinade to kill for. This with lashings of what can only be described as "Bintang" seemed to send the crowd (with the emphasis on "crowd") into a garrulous and uncontrollable frenzy of a circle that went round and round with "shut up"(s), whistle blowing(s) and "respect!"(s) then back to a roar again - a mob is a beast. In the absence of Night Jar, Labia announced a "shriveling" of Muddy Person, which turned out to be pretty much literal.
There were some mostly inaudible naming sessions one of which was for some American, perhaps Canuckian, joker from Ubud who had something to do with bone collecting and about whom an old hasher remarked: "I've been coming on the HHH2 regularly since 1994 and I've never laid eyes on that fella". I too wouldn't have known him if he bobbed up in me soup, but this didn't stop the crowd from enthusiastically dubbing him "Bone Shaker", which seemed to satisfy Disco Balls. Jangle Wanker seemed a bit out of sorts this week (perhaps he's not used to the elevation) but gave us the official 2013 BHHH2 version of "Wild Thing" ("you wear a clit ring") about which R.M. Dog commented was "gay" (huh?). The Mangy one is off to the U.K. soon, I can only advise him to steer clear of the men with the butterfly nets and white coats.
There were at least 3 of our furry chums in the circle at all times including Comes Up's spotty pal. Fortunately, I speak Dalmatian and she (?) candidly confided in me later that "we do it to piss people off". Can't say I'm surprised by that doggie revelation. She (?) also revealed that this is the reason that Prickles and co. like to get under people's feet, up people's noses and on people's goats, they're laughing their hairy heads off at us. What a jolly jape some of these jet black jesters are having on us. Hardy har. It is to laugh.
On that note of trilling hysterics and hilarity, see you next week north of Payangan.
On on.
