February 2014 | By: The Scrotable Scribe
Whykickanenema and Organ Grinder Pull Off Their “Singularity”'
Waitangi Day approached and rumours abounded about the format and fate of the run. It was going to be a two run run, it was going to be a three run run run, it was going to be in Sanur around Whykickanenema’s pool shower. Was there going to be a run at all? International tensions simmered, the armed services of three nations (no, I’m not at liberty to say, but one of them has been suspected of flagrantly not observing the Geneva Convention by torturing innocent vowels) were on high alert. A summit was convened in Bresela, Central Bali between the antagonists and a last minute compromise was forged. The agreement was announced at the 11th hour of 4.30 p.m. at the run site. The international press (me) was on hand for this momentous occasion. “One Run” ran the headline in The Washington Post, Le Monde, The Sydney Morning Herald, Il Globo, The Guardian, The Sanur Whisper, The Ubud Sentinel and The Seminyak Planet.
Okay, very funny, hardy har, it is to laugh. Nobody would have been surprised if it had been a five run run run run run seeing as Organ Grinder was involved, but as it turned out disaster, famine, disease and nuclear confrontation were avoided and the run went ahead as scheduled. And it must be said it was an absolutely, unanimously, a hundred and fifty thousand percent brilliant in every sense of the word, run. Sometimes, raging successes such as this are forged in the fires of disharmony. There is some pretty stiff competition in the muscular form of Whitebait and his Ozzie Ocker Oy, Oy, Oy Day run, but this one comes pretty close to run of the year so far, and though still in it’s relative infancy, I’m willing to call it as run of the month for February 014, so there.
Live hare Whykickanenema kicked us off and then as if by some form of South Polynesian levitation kept showing up at various crucial points along the trail, accompanied by former nemesis and fellow levitationist, Organ Grinder to oversee our progress, somehow ahead of us with not a drop of sweat on either of them to indicate any effort in their getting there. I’m still trying to figure out how they did it. At one point after a particularly strenuous effort scrambling up a precipitous hillside by hand, I’m fairly certain I invoked Organ Grinder or perhaps his poltergeist representative by thinking to myself (out loud) “F!@#in’ Organ Grinder” and there he was! Standing in the middle of a high ridge surrounded by amazingly sumptuous views. I’d just left him 10 minutes of mud splattered arduous straining and cursing before!
This was one of the many arresting panoramic highlights of this generally striking Hash. We were in the clouds at this point staring dumbstruck (at least I was, but I often do dumbstruck stuff even when I’m not staring) at a vast valley wall opposite clothed in massively tall palms as far as the eye could see, absolute magic!
The entire run was studded with moments of this nature, whether it was concrete viaducts flying overhead in eye wateringly beautiful surroundings, or jungle palms and banana trees edging up to paddys, fifty or so wide stone steps leading up to a temple perched on a high promontory, gigantic bamboo stands by a rushing river. It was non-stop dazzling beauty succinctly reminding us of what we were doing here and why we came in the first place. Bali, that is, in case any of you think I have been carried too far aloft by my ruminations.
I did notice however, as many of us did, that often during the course of the run we seemed to be hooking and doubling back on ourselves in a higgledy piggeldy kind of progress, which may go a ways to explain the recurring hallucinatory and phantom–like appearances of the hares. It was very muddy, possibly 10 minutes too long and one or two of the checks were a little cheeky, but folks, it was the genuine article: a truly terrific Hash. Fortunately, they do still make ‘em like that from time to time.
Disco Wanker hosted the circle last week in the startling non-appearance of Hash Master Labia. Startling, that is to certain parties who quaked at the thought that they may be asked to do the honours and who will not, under pain of death be named: Jangle Balls, St. Tits, and Dancing Queen all came under momentary scrutiny but were dismissed with huge and audible sighs of relief when His Masturbation appeared and the fickle finger of fate had passed them by. Whew, a close one.
Grand Master Night Jar did something French after which the Wanker doled out down downs for all manner of naked or semi naked transgressors. The appearance of two (TWO) “comely” (some of us almost did) Bahamian visiting harriers or virgins (who was listening?) was extremely easy on the eye. They may as well have been naked for all the staring and pawing they endured, poor things. Disco found excuses to put them on display as often as possible and the crowd (at least half of us) lapped it up and I half suspect, so did The Bahamians.
Over his bout of nerves, Jangle Balls conducted a Kiwi quiz with prize tee shirts supplied by none other than Whykickanenema. These were tastefully emblazoned with said bird, unsurprisingly, and the legend “Kiwis Have Big Peckers”. Does this include the women? was the obvious question. They were as fine a garment with a national pudendum size boast as I’ve ever seen. Lucky winners received their prizes and of course a down down. There were some surprise winners including Spank My Monkey for knowing the answer to who was the current P.M. of N.Z. and it wasn’t Bilbo Baggins, although that’s what she said first. No, John Key was the answer or as S.M.M. put it, Pak Kunci.
Night Jar received a tee shirt and beer for supplying both the answer and the question, a desperate man when it comes to tee shirts and beer. And so with nationalist fervor at a fever pitch among all the honorary Zullanders and one real one, we finished the piss and found our way to “The Fly” for the world’s best Mahi Mahi, the fish so nice, they named it twice. See you next week when Valentine conducts Valentine’s Day, you couldn’t have made up that one.
On on.
