J akarta H ash H ouse H arriers
Scribe Sheet Run 1742
RUN NO. 1742 – 18 March 2002 - ST. PATRICK’S DAY
RUN
HARES: Pretty Boy, Poison, John
Bastard
THE PINE FOREST ABOVE SENTUL SELATAN
Regulars: 28 New Members: 4 Past Member: 1 Visitors: 2 (James McKew and Guzanda) Total: 35
PROLOGUE
‘Tis an injustice that
St.Paddy’s Day follows St.David’s Day every year. No matter how hard we try to
create havoc and disarray on the annual Welsh run, the Irish always have an
opportunity to outdo us. This year looked like being no exception.
The farce started early on the morning of the run. As Poison arrived at the site, the conversation went something like this:
Pretty
Boy: About time you got here. Where’ve
you been?
Poison:
Oi got lost; there weren’t any signs.
P.Boy: Of course there weren’t; you were supposed to be putting them up. And what the fook is that you are carrying?
Poison: It’s a potato clock.
P.Boy:
A potato clock? Who told you to bring that?
Poison:
You did. You said as we are laying the run, Oi’d have to get a potato clock.
P.Boy:
You dimwit, Oi said you’d have to get up at eight o’clock.
Poison:
So Oi got one!
P.Boy:
Anyway, did you bring some paper? Oi couldn’t find any.
Poison: Of course you couldn’t find any paper; the run hasn’t been laid yet!
And so the conversation went on until the arrival of
their Welsh technical adviser, John Bastard, who explained to them the function
of the hares.
Now you may wonder what a Welshman is doing helping
to lay the Irish run. Well, apart from showing them how to lay a run, the fact
is it is not easy to become a hare on the Welsh run even if you are Welsh, the
competition for places is so intense. Sometimes it takes years of serving one’s
apprenticeship on other runs before being selected. Some don’t want to be
selected so pretend they are French or German. But that’s another story.
THE RUN
Fearing the worst, we set off for the hills. An early river crossing left a few bogged down up to their thighs in glorious mud. I shouted to Jonesy (a front runner at the time) not to go a particular way. He did anyway and discovered the mud. At least he could now prove to his missus he went on the run. (Hello Jeannie! Are you reading this? Then you shouldn’t be!)
At one point in the run there was major confusion. Holy Joop was giving mixed signals. Up to his knees in one of the many streams we plodded through he shouted ‘on arrow’ and ‘check-back’ at the same time. This was probably an Irish checkaround. So we did just that and eventually picked up paper again.
Thanks to these excellent, albeit unintended, ‘confusion points’ (as opposed to official checks), the main pack was kept remarkably together for most of the run. Except towards the end where paper disappeared after the last river crossing (apparently they had been laying paper on the water). Here, and now in semi-darkness, the pack divided as we crossed a paddy field.
By the way, do you know why they are called paddy fields? It was over a hundred years ago when a boatload of Irish emigrants set off for America. Unfortunately the crew got seriously pissed on the voyage and the boat ended up in the Dutch East Indies. Yes, these were the first boat people to arrive in Indonesia. The Dutch were not so stupid as to erect refugee resort centres for them. Instead they put them immediately to work in the rice fields, which then became known universally as paddy fields. They were transported to the fields daily from their camps in large water-buffalo drawn police trucks which were affectionately called paddy wagons, a term still in use today.
Enough of the history lesson. Anyway, despite the lack of paper at the end we were close enough to the beer truck to be guided by the locals. No-one got hopelessly lost (a first for an Irish run) and even latecomer Maandi got back in time for the circle.
All
in all, a most imaginative and excellent run.
I
can’t believe I said that.
THE CIRCLE
Fearing the worst (or perhaps the usual), the
hares immediately set about placating the mob with generous helpings of hot
dogs. This enabled our returning MM Clark Kunt to muffle his voice and disguise
the fact he did not know the down-down song. He was however able to get through
the Irish Song (‘With an eh,eh,eh and an ar,ar,ar…’) with the help of an
antique songbook.
With Manchester United back at the top of the
league, Dripper was able to make another appearance. Earlier he had been
telling me about a little incident that took place while he was on his way to
one of their matches. He spotted a bare foot sticking out from under a bush. On
further investigation it turned out to be a dead woman, completely nude. He
thought he would call a policeman but first, out of decency, he put his hat
over her crotch. On arrival at the scene the policeman lifted the hat, put it
back again and wrote down some notes. He repeated this a couple of times.
Dripper said ‘what are you doing, are you some kind of pervert?’ To which the
policeman replied: ‘No sir, it’s just that usually when I look underneath a
Manchester United supporter’s hat I find an asshole’. Thank you Tampon (and Dripper).
Good songs from the hares, cleverly vilifying
selected hashers. Good Irish joke from O’Furnicator:
Schoolteacher (Catholic school of course) asks young
Mary: ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ Mary replies: ‘A prostitute
Miss.’
‘What did you say?!’ ‘I said a prostitute, Miss’
‘Oh, thank goodness; for a minute I thought you said
Protestant.’
Elephant Man revealed a more sensitive side of Clark
Kunt. It appears that when EM attended a recent function he found that the said
gentleman was the Master of Ceremonies. Thinking it might adversely affect his
diplomatic career prospects CK asked EM nicely not to call him Clark Kunt in
front of the many ambassadors assembled there. EM complied. (Would Magic Dragon
or Witless Wanker have done likewise? Log on to CNN’s website to spot vote.)
Achievers:
Jonesy and GoBlokM – 500 runs apiece.
Jonesy’s song: a version of ‘Short Cutting Bastard’.
GoBlokM’s song:
A very obscure song from GoBlokM’s early hashing days. Had it been a
better song it would not now be obscure.
Leaver:
Stretch. His length of service earned all three verses of the Jakarta
Leaver’s Song. For years this guy has tried, but failed, to keep a low profile
in the circle. Thanks for your great contributions and good luck in Bangkok!
Yearbook: Last
minute contributions required urgently. Every hasher should endeavour to
contribute something, either by way of an advertisement, sponsorship, article,
joke etc. Ads. and money to Magic Dragon; articles etc. to me.
This is a publication that one day you will be proud
to show to your grandchildren. (I showed last year’s to my grandchildren and
they thought it was crap, but that’s beside the point.)
NEXT WEEK’S RUN:
Monday, 25 March. Hares: Supabrat and Bin Liner.
Location:
Ali Baba 2. (the site, anyway)
Jagorawi, exit Cibubur, Jl.Alternatif, past first
iron bridge, take next U-turn and come back to site just before the bridge.
Point to point.
On on, Col.B.
Click to go to
: Other sheets
