July 2013 | By: The Scrutable Scribe
Home of the Brief
O' say can you see….? No, it's gone. It was a bit like an embarrassing premature ejaculation at Pura Pusah Keliki last Saturday and I have to say a bit difficult to believe this was the "handiwork" of three of the oldest hashers in the business in the forms of stalwarts Worm, Blow Joe and St Tits! It was as if all three of them had lapsed into temporary but concurrent comas during paper laying, woke up and said "Shit, look at the time, we'd better get back to the car park ay – sap". If only Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan had been handled like that, things might not have been so complicated.
As it was, the one hour short (running) and one hour 30 minute (running again) long both came in at pretty much 30 minutes on the dot. Some of our keener long running nazis, whose names shall remain Cane Rat, immediately took off again and did the short as well. Post Mortem Hash Medical Examiners put forth various theories: 1. The hares didn't want a bunch of virgins, who had been lured by free tee shirts and gumbo, or any other hashers (ditto) wandering around lost in the sawa and hutan in the middle of the night. 2. The hares wanted to get an early start at "The Melting Pot" on on to curry favor with the owner and therefore be in positions to extract freebie exotic beverages from the management (j.k.), (n.r.), not that I had any input whatsoever in formulating such a crude speculation. 3. Blow Joe was thirsty.
Also, allow me to say a thing or two about the run. 1. It was short. 2. It was sweet.3. It was short and sweet. (did I mention this aspect of the run?). Sorry, that was three things. The car park of the Pura Dalem Pusah Keliki contained the friggin' hugest, kick assest wantilan thingamidigit ever constructed. It also had an equally gi-mongous banyan tree, which may have actually been two (TWO!) hu-normous banyans. Everything but the run was big (have I brought up the actual length of the run as yet?). Tarzan and Jane could have brought up a dozen kids in that tree without putting a foot on Mother earth.
Unfortunately the Pura Dalem and wantilan grounds were mostly obscured by what can only be described as "garbage". But this wasn't just a little garbage. This was huge shitloads of it. It seems this banjar doesn't do anything by halves. Even the countryside on the run had really "big" views that seemed to stretch to the horizon with more bloody big trees involved and large-ish rice padis. There was only one check on the short ( without official markings) but it was a decent sized one, I'll give them that. An interrogated Worm later admitted that it was deliberate. I wonder if it was supposed to make up for the weenieness of the run (has that subject been broached yet?)
Just a quick note here: I overheard a hasher reading the word "Pusah" on the map: "That's not how you spell pussy, that's bullshit, harharharharhar". I thought that maybe he had a point; If you replace the word "pussy" with "bullshit" you can come up with fun combos: Tom Jones' "What's New Bullshit Cat" (wo oh oh wo o ho). Or Bond girl Bullshit Galore, or lines from a risqué novel like "he gently caressed her bullshit". Sorry, with a run this short there's not much to write about (have I noted the duration of the run?)
Back at the "Circle Y" (Yank) Ranch, most of the population of the mainland U.S. and one from Alaska (Petrified W. Penis) gathered and were variously harangued and defiled by figures such as Night Jar and Wooden Eye. At one point the hares and some peripheral seppos regaled us with their lovely anthem. Though it probably has the edge on "Advance Australia Fair" and certainly "God Save Our Queen", this is a tune so somnolently boring that flying creatures fall stunned from the sky. The only way to render this dirge interesting is to show your tits while performing it a la Janet Jackson or sing it naked such as Beyonce, or did I just imagine that?
Jangle Balls gave us an alternative version ("O' It's dark and its dank inside a septic tank") and jaunty ditties "Homo on the Range" and "Oklahomo". Blow Joe spent quite a while telling us he sucked at telling jokes and proceeded to prove it, maybe he never even got to that point. It was all part of the festive ambience. So another national day of celebration passes without international incident and we look forward to Frog Day next Saturday. It's a wonder the whole thing doesn't descend into a brawl every week, but it doesn't, which is a bit of an improvement on Taiwanese parliamentary sessions. I'm just saying… So it was on on to The Fly for some of us where it always makes me feel better to behold Snatcher's joyful visage, drink his wine and eat his ribs…
Le on, Le on
