Run No. 996

Date: 19 October 2001

Where: Perahu Road off Lim Chu Kang Road

Occasion:  Libra Boys Run

Hares: Chastity Belt, So Cunt Cheong, Kaisu Lan

Members: 47

Guests:  18

- Returnees :  2

- Visitors :  1

- Virgins : 1

The hares got of to a good start by providing beers before the off and then treating us to a really lovely run through tracks and wilderness in the north west of the island. I was rather disappointed that the promised US warship had found better things to do than join the run but the hares had thoughtfully provided a tantalisingly small number of Australian soldiers dotted around here and there giving us girls something in uniform to look at. A bunch of us got a bit detached towards the end but a helpful pick up driver picked us up so Bugles, Pandora’s Box, Mr.T, No Good and myself came back in fine style with a good view of the glorious sunset, only spotted by Titmouse who fortunately left before the whipping started. Too late now, chaps.

Indy called in the hares for the acclaim of the smallish crowd and the announcement of the On On at the Hakka Community Centre on Upper Bukit Timah.

Next week’s run is the annual Scorpio extravaganza, announced by representative Stash. It’s at Segar Road.

Indy’s radar had spotted Loose Change in a major private party as usual and put her and Suzee Wong straight on the ice.

Frontarse now hove in to announce the solitary virgin, Pier, and a couple of returnees, Relay and Mouthful. I was busty – sorry - busy trying to placate Bagels at this stage as he was in a real snit about my comments about his shrinking beer rations. He thrust one of the mugs at me and insisted, “It’s bigger than you think.” (Bet that’s what he tells all the girls – Ed.) These beermeisters can be soooo sensitive…

Our one visitor from the Gold Coast – Self Abuse - had obviously heard about Beagles’ parsimony with beer (that’s meanness to you, CCC) all the way down under as he had prudently brought his own with him. He presented both GMs with a cold can of 4X – a pretty classy thing to do, if you ask me.

Now we had a slight change of agenda as Stash came in to provide a verbal run report. He drew the circle’s attention to the modern need for intelligence on the hash. In my business we call that an oxymoron. Stash suggested that there was far more intelligence floating around than in Afghanistan. This was because Chastity Belt had previously set this run on a Monday hash and was going round anyone who was present on that occasion asking them not to cock up the run. Unfortunately he forgot to mention this to Frontarse, who used the information to blast through the first three checks, as he knew exactly where he was going. Then Stash came over all technical and wittered on than despite his GSM complete with – er – blackberry, when it came to the last check he meanly sent Indianus checking the wrong way. (Tee hee! – Ed.) Frontarse gamely took to the ice sans gear, giving all of us at the beer table a Royal Flash.

Stash’s second intelligence – or lack of - charge was a distinctly personal one against Strapless. He was running along through the jungle and called out “Heads!” - to general scoffing from Stash who suggested that he was too much of a shortarse to need to worry. “What do you mean!” cried an indignant Strapless. “I’m a lot taller that you are.” Called in to the circle to prove his claim, poor Strapless found out that Stash – though appearing small but beautifully formed – has a lot more to him than meets the eye and is actually a good couple of centimetres taller. Men do have this problem of overestimating size, don’t they?

His final intelligence charge was against Indianus. She swanned into the circle to Ripper’s ungallant call of, “There’s no intelligence there!” Oops – I promised him I wouldn’t quote him. Oh well! Anyway, Indianus’ crime was insisting there was a back check and causing the pack to run around like headless chickens when it was a perfectly normal forward check.

Meanwhile a group of us had been wondering what Stash had been going on about when he mentioned Frontarse’s GSM – whether with or without rhubarb crumble or apple pie. Frontarse declared that Stash was suffering from an intelligence failure himself if he didn’t know the difference between a GPS and a cell phone. Stash protested mightily but of course no one was listening at this stage, being more interested in discussing what the hell fruit had to do with it.

Time for the Mystery Whip. Not Tonight had spent a profitable run eavesdropping on other people’s conversations. What do men and women talk about? She called in Up and Down as a girlie rep., and Ripper as the guy. Up and Down was representing someone overheard complaining that she came on the hash as she didn’t want fat thighs – she strenuously denied that she had said any such thing, pointing out thighs of perfectly delicate proportions. Ripper represented a couple of guys chatting about who could pee the furthest – still yet more of this male obsession with statistics.

Finally NT called out yet another representative of military intelligence – this time a representative Australian. Frontarse was the obvious candidate here. She wanted to thank Australia for providing us with all the chaps in camouflage gear positioned round the run, blending in with the jungle and being thoroughly inconspicuous. Until, of course, you came to a clearing where there were parked a couple of huge, shiny, white buses with Australian Air Force proudly emblazoned on the sides. (Well, Australians aren’t known for their subtlety – Ed.)

Intelligence of any sort now evaporated as the Mystery Mystery Whip – B.A., who wants to become a member but maybe should think better of it – came out with a thoroughly tasteless joke about a friend who had trouble losing his virginity so tried to date the college bike – a typically masculine insult for girls who are more successful than they are when it comes to sex. At the end of the evening the friend said, “I’d like a little pussy.” “So would I,” responded the girl. “But mine’s like a bucket.” Large intake of breath at this scant regard for political correctness. Reckless at his minute of fame in the circle, he cast around for a “bucket” and – extremely unwisely - lit on Loose Change, who took a leaf out of Queen Victoria’s book and was understandably “not amused”. Ignoring the fact that his comedy act was going down like a lead balloon he called in Big Hammer to represent a big prick and – oh dear! – Coo Chi Coo to represent a small one. Blood was definitely about to be spilt. And the contention went on at the beer table as Coo Chi Coo took ages to dispense with his beer. “See!” growled Beagles at your hapless scribe. “I told you how big it was!” All right, no more jibes about the size of the beers from me.

B.A. carried on trying to recoup something from the ashes of his first - and probably last – appearance as Whip by charging Saliva and Suzee Wong for getting all prickly going down a bank, but he had gone rather beyond the pale by now. Frontarse spoke for all when he forced him to sit on the ice for making himself unpopular. He then told us that at the beginning of the run B.A. – obviously desperate for companionship – had been seen sitting on his own (And he always will! – Ed.) trying to make friends with a frog by sharing his 100+ with it. And he even failed there. It’s almost sad. While B.A. was doing his bare-arsed down down Loose Change and Ayam Kampong doused him with cups of water to huge applause.

Then time for a bit of less contentious stuff with announcements about the golf competition and the football against Seletar on Sunday. Seletar have apparently been trying to recruit members of the national team to avoid yet another embarrassing defeat.

Time for AOB. Proving that you can’t keep a congenital idiot down, B.A. came back into the circle to charge a couple of generous types – Hand Job and myself – for dragging him to Anywhere last week.  Don’t worry, mate – won’t happen again!

Chastity Belt had charges against all those people who had bad intelligence and got lost on the way to the run and had to phone him. He didn’t mind that so much, but Suzee Wong kept on saying, “I’m at Jalan Bahtera,” no matter how many times he told her the run was at Perahu Road. Perhaps she was waiting for Mohammed to come to the mountain and the entire run to shift. Dogshit and Pier were also lost sheep.

This lack of intelligence thing was going on and on. I had similarly picked up a lost sheep on the way about three miles from the run site. Hooray had managed to get off at the wrong bus stop.

Not Tonight called in the Yanks – Big Hammer, Stash and Flirty Hacker - and asked them a question. What was the name of the frog making all the noise in the background? Various comments from the circle – Eric? Osama? Hacker suggested it was reptilius cunnilingus. Actually Stash was the nearest with bullfrog. Actually, said Not Tonight to the bemused populace, it was an American bullfrog. Thus ended the biology lesson. But Coo Chi Coo whimsically asked, “What’s the name of that tree over there?” thinking that NT was setting a trend in identifying flora and fauna.

At this point a strange and silent figure had been seen lurking by the beer wagon. Did he have his priorities right, Indy wanted to know, turning up for the end of the circle? Aye Aye, resplendent in office clothes, couldn’t even count on the sympathy of wifey Saliva who yelled “Ice! Ice!” with the best of them. Aye Aye gamely complied and Saliva sat on him for her lack of loyalty.

Chastity Belt had obviously been imbibing a bit more of the amber fluid than was good for him as he told a long and strange story about his French friend trying to blow up a frog with a cigarette – and then giving the thoroughly Swiss Relay a down down for it. All getting a bit surreal here. Definitely time to go, but not before Self Abuse had criticised the Tiger beer bottles for not fitting his chiller. More dimension problems. And Coo Chi Coo had a go at me for providing myself with a comfy towel to sit on as I do my scribing duties. (You haven’t old him about the piles, then? – Ed) Shhh – that’s supposed to be our secret. And Bagels was pleading with everyone to push off as we were definitely out of beer.

A trek cross-country then to the on on which was very jolly, and thence to Anywhere which seems to be having a bit of a revival at the moment. An interesting evening, what with intelligence, obsessions with dimensions – and all those peculiar frog stories.  Actually, I think we should forget the intelligence……

On On!

Black Widow

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