- - - happens when you get appointed Scribe half way through the circle. Also, please excuse the handwriting as this is being typed in the car. 

Considering this was the last run of the Century/Millennium and also the one before the first run of the next Century/Millennium, it proceeded with more of a whimper than an extravaganza. Just  a regular Monday run. The Hares, Angie and Superbrat stood in as hares because there are so many LAZYFUCKINGBASTARDS on JHHH that only want to run runs and not set runs. Even next weeks run, the first of the glorious age of Aquarius, will be hared again by Angie, because none of the LAZYFUCKINGBASTARDSWHONEVERSETRUNS would volunteer to do it. 

Anyway, the run started from the back of Rafflesia and 24 hashers, one dog and three unmentionables went in a large, wet, slippery, muddy, anti-clockwise, leftie direction, arriving back in much the same place that they started from.  Notable features were the wading-bollock-high-through-the-swamp part (and in the process effectively scattering the CIA-type shredded paper across the surface of the swamp, and the part where we had to climb a 4 meter vertical wall of sand bags (actually mud bags), in which some thoughtful person had cut some holes for grabbing hold of.  Everybody was in by sixoklok, no lost hashers tonight. Too bad. Nice dog, KK. 

 "Wet, Wild and slippy, just like my wife" - Holy Joop.

"Babble Babble Babble, piss and moan" - A Pussy

..(something about) "my wife and my dog". - KK (the one referred to as "the dog" had four legs)

"Merry Christmas" - Tarzanspeaking

 These were the only sensible comments, other comments like "good run" etc are not worth reporting. Anyway, this scribe was not paying much attention at that time because at that time this scribe had as yet not been asked to scribe. 

Discerning readers as well as those who have being paying attention will have noticed some mentions of unmentionables. Yes folks, it's sad but true, our last run before Armageddon and probably the end of the world, was plagued by a visit of a horde of persons-of-the-lesser-sex. Otherwise known as wimmin, man's best friend, men with bumps etc., this unnecessary intrusion into the sanctity of our precious, private and no-pussy-allowed Monday night was orchestrated by none other than Bolt-One-On, the same gentleman responsible for the previous occasion when he unilaterally invited men with bumps and pretended it was okay because they were dressed as rabbits or bunnies or something. Notably, B-1-On had the sense not to turn up on Monday, lest he be pilloried and castigated by his hash brethren. And so he surely should have been.  "It would never have happened under the old committee", said Kontrite Kock.  "Nothing ever happened under the old committee", offered Witless. He should know, he was on that committee.  RA Herpes tried in vain to get somebody, anybody, to admit having been the treachorous arsehole who invited the aforementioned unmentionables, bu no amount of cajoling, threats of grevious bodily harm or even the perpetration of outright violence was enough to produce a guilty party from the circle. Meanwhile, the real culprit, B1O was laughing his arse off in Mongolia, while being slathered in Yak Butter by Genghis Khan's grandmother. 

Jonesy was put on ice for only having one testicle, and Yoshi got to throw a bucket of freezingfuckingcoldwater on his unmentionable who was also sitting on ice at that time for being a pushy pussy. Or possibly because she has even fewer testicles than Jonesy. Try saying pushy pussy after 11 down downs. At least it finally shut her up.

  Jonesy also received an award for being the slowest runner of the millennium (I'm beginning to hate that word). 400 Walks with JHHH. Konkrete Klock, looking splendid in chiffon and silk, received his 350th mug. That's a lot of mugs, don't you think, for one person?

 Leeky Dick entertained us with a selection of Christmas melodies, the words to which would probably embarrass your granny. If you have a granny. Fortunately, we have sufficient space here to include the entire wording of the last song. To the tune of "Little drummer boy" : "I am a banci like it upper my bum. Etc". (repeat until you get tired).

 New Members: Copper Dick, Visitors : Sheep Dip, Phil Murray (how come he is not a new member?), Lean Kleppe

 Terus, Mereka makan, terus pulang.

 As this is the last sheet of the eon, the committee has decided to make it available in a "special millennium edition" format.  At great expense, a limited number of copies of this piece of sheet have been laser etched onto a solid slab of Titanium (because titanium has been declared the metal of the new millennium). As an additional security measure, a hologram of the Hash Masters Angelic face has been laminated onto the slab using a process known as molecular substrate holography. A certificate of authenticity with a unique two-digit security code will also be included with each of these beautiful momentos. Each will be individually encased in a sarcophagus of gilted hand-cast bronze, and are available from John Toomey at the absolutely outrageous price of $126,876.29 each. Cash only please.

 Next Weeks run : Run # 1616. (assuming Sunday’s run does not get a run #) Novotel, Bogor. Hares : Auntie Anguish and Jonathan Gordon Dry Gin. If you want to stay the nichten at the hotel, call 0251 271 555 and book it yourself. Rp380,000++ for Std room, Rp420,000++ for Superior room. (includes Breakfast)

 Ths sheet has been scribed by standinscribe Pretty Boy, and most of it may or not be true or lies or fabrication, but thats what..

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