Run No. 932
Date: 4 August 2000
Where: Serangoon Country Club
Hares: Birthday Boy Squire, Boo, Strapless, and Quickie
Members: 43
Guests: 19
Virgins: 2
Visitors: 4
Returnees: 1

A bus run, which we haven't had for a while. I always get lost on them, myself. Particularly B to A runs where everyone else knows where they're going and I end up at Changi, alone again, naturally. Still, this time I had the benefit of one of the hares, Boo - no less! - and, for part of the run, a subversive Ripper who knew the first part like the back of his hand and did a couple of creative short cuts. Age catching up on him, I fear. The run took in some nice boggy country on the way and got the pack back in decent order to the swanky run site where I was regaled with a tale of woe from Poser and Astronut.. Oh, what a calamity! Astronut's butch BMW had turned all wimpy on them, given a little cough, and expired on the expressway. Well, we all know what you do in those situations - send wifey home to pick up the Porsche, of course, and then look for sympathy at the run site. (Do I detect a touch of envy? Ed.) Of course not… I'm getting quite fond of the 93 bus…

I was also regaled with a querulous whinge from Stiffy about his name change in last week's newsletter. Sorry, Stuffy, the Spell Check takes no prisoners. You just got caught in the crossfire.

Astronut, manfully recovering from his ghastly ordeal, called the circle to order - while your scribe was still in the shower. Good thinking, Batman! So I'm making this up as I go along - which is about par for the course anyway. I just wish Poser would stop correcting me the following week. Hey, it's called creativity, mate! Anyway, the hares were awarded the Good Run award and did their stuff. Then it turned into a surrealistic affair as the circle was highjacked by the ever-retiring Boo Boo. He announced the on-on. He announced next week's run. And take a guess as to who was the Hare Whip. You got it!

Stand in GM Zipp, who was also doing the beer duties with Poser and Gypsy, called in the virgins Cindy and Regine (one of whom was obviously unprimed as to hash etiquette as she tried to bring a baby into the circle). Ebenezer from the Harriets and the guests fom Luanda HHH, returning Royal Flush's family (husband Martin and sons Chris and My-God-Haven't-You-Grown Neil, aka Easy Life, Flying Boat and Crusty Loafer) also came in for their welcome. Gypsy got in on the act by recalling how, at the start of the run, our ever-tactful Sybil had remarked to Royal Flush that she hadn't changed a bit since she left seven years ago. "Thank you, Sybil' says a gratified RF. "And this is my husband, Martin…." Sybil chirps, "He hasn't changed either!" All very polite and civilized - except for the fact that Royal Flush had changed husbands in the intervening years and Sybil had never met this one before….

Then Boo did his bit and very properly got Dim Sum and Double Back for ignoring the illustrious proceedings in order to buy durians from our resourceful beer-buddy Jason, flexing his entrepreneurial muscles. He also managed to embarrass Chastity Belt, Dirty Hacker, Flutter (Spell Check!), Mother Mary, BC and Zipp for conspiring to short cut the run from the start just so they could have a pleasant ride on the air-conditioned bus. Nice trick if you can do it, I say.

Astronut called in Quickie for her 200 runs T-shirt and dinky vase.

The Mystery Mystery Whip was Beagles (sorry - the Spell Check just loves you, Bagless!) who, I thought was going to get the luxury-car twosome for their little problem, but then blithered on about Dickless, a handphone and a bus. Then whipped Lacey Lady and Ebenezer. - No idea. - Don't worry; Poser will no doubt let me know.

Blood Shit was MMW and launched into a positively disgusting tale of someone not just having sex in the car but having sex with the car. Kiasu Lun was spotted sprawling suggestively over his vehicle, panting loudly and shouting "Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" in, obviously, orgasmic ecstasy. Personally, Opels have never affected me in that way, although I did have a bit of a fling with a Spitfire once…

And Running Shit was spotted doing his laundry on the run and washing his cock. Or was it his sock? Oh, something like that.

Returnee Royal Flush, who had been busy beautifying herself, was belatedly welcomed back.

We were now graced with a Mystery Mystery Mystery whip in the guise of Big Hammer who was obviously suffering from heat stroke as he whipped Boo for having the circle a long way from his car. Er - aren't cars moveable, Big Hammer?

Into his stride, BH told a story of the intellectually not-quite-all-there Murkury sitting on a plane and trying to access a decent movie (Debbie does Dallas? Ed.) - only to end up with Barney the Dinosaur. Now, okay, he couldn't get rid of it, but whose fault was it that he had to sit through it five times? Lookalike Squire (!!) did the honours.

And Faker managed to get pregnant and have a baby since last week. Shit Stream shared the blame. (Whatever happened to no rug rats on the hash? - Ed.)

Pussy of the Week was presented by a gallant Sean - a virgin last week despite fantasizing about doing it with five men. Anyway, he decided to go the easy route and hit a man when he was down by calling back poor picked-upon Kiasu Lun for confessing that he hadn't had pussy in over a year. (No wonder he was humping his car - Ed.) So this is what the boys chat about while they're running. I always wondered.

AOB. Dirty Hacker kept it in the family by calling in his wife Mother Mary and Royal Flush. Apparently, when he and RF were setting a run at the late lamented Fishponds many years ago, they were joined by RF's kids and Mother Mary to lay the trail. Mother Mary was amused to overhear some local farmers commenting on the delightful Caucasian family - and how nice of them to bring their maid along for the walk.

Diskless (don't blame me!) picked on his colleague Svein Gundersen. He had to take a medical for his employment pass - and then pranced around the office rejoicing in the fact that:
a) he hasn't got AIDS and
b) he's soooo fit!!!
Yeah, right. And Dickless, 20 years his senior, came in five minutes earlier on the run. Dickless wanted to call him something I've forgotten, but was overruled by a collection of rowdies around Rooning Shit who were eager to add to the ever expanding Shit family. They ruled the day by sheer decibel power, and the Shit family welcomed a new member - Shit Fit.

Chastity Belt sailed into the circle to humiliate Squire for not being able to operate the remote on his new car. Oh yes, he can get the lights flashing, windscreen wipers going, alarms blasting off in all directions - but can't actually handle unlocking the damn thing!

On a more personal grouch, he also got Squire for the design of the T-shirt, claiming it suited nobody except the steroid-stuffed Dickless.

The circle was taking off now, with more people trying to muscle in on AOB - but we ran out of beer. Shame.

So nothing else to do but mosey on to the on-on at the poolside where we were treated to a sumptuous steamboat. Personally, I've never got the hang of this dish. I bung all the makings in the pot but all the prawns and nice bits seem to disappear and all I ever rake up with my questing chopsticks are the - sorry, I really don't like them - fish balls. And the whole scene ends up like the witches bit from Macbeth - desperate people huddled round a bubbling cauldron wondering if they're going to get the eye of newt or toe of frog. Then I dragged the Royal Flush clan to their favourite old haunt - you've guessed it - the Colbar, to round off an excellent evening. Well done hares for an original run and a great on-on. And great showers.

On On

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