Bangkok Monday Hash House Harriers
Trash by an anonymous alcoholic
Last updated: 16 Dec 2009
Run no:- 1395
Date:- 15 Dec 2009
Location:- Nawamin Soi 42
Hare:- Wet Dream II & Noriega
Scribe:- The Mystery Scribe
It took some persuading to drag Noriega away from his Oirish Bird, but he surely needed a break to bone up on one of UK’s most difficult dialects. In Bangkok it seems that the only linguist of merit is a certain Canal Rape who having dropped his requirement to learn Thai is now fully engaged with this gnarled dialect from the north, learning the lingo from the motor racing commentaries. (This is the way to do it I am told – total immersion). Interestingly, it is said that the Welsh, swam across the Irish Channel to get away from the morbid mangling of vowels and it should be noted that they have ended up speaking in a most angelic lilt, which many say is a pure pleasure to hear.
But the Stefan the hare, somewhat like Valentine in the Bard’s ‘Two Gentlemen of Verona’ has difficulty in dragging Noriega from his bird, but in this case successfully does so for long enough to set a run in ‘virgin’ area near a impoverished farang slum close to the outer ring road. Sounds like pure theatre right? But I would like to know if it comes as a surprise to you as it does to me, to find farang wandering around in off the beaten track places? Surely, apart from Ajarn KM and Sugar Daddy, they all live in Sukhumvit in B70k per month condos? Does this indicate a possible farang underclass and could they eventually revolt and rise up against those farang on Sukhumvit after some apocalyptic event? Sorry, I’ll stop this now.
Long before the run, Noriega was draped semi naked across the back of his Beamer picking the grey hairs out of both nostrils. He was supported by Stefan who was balancing a large bottle of Singha in the other hand, when along comes another two door Beamer from the same era. It cruised up alongside to inspect. A curious middle aged Thai gentleman was driving and he looked proud of his lime green machine, grinning manically when we gave him the thumbs up. But then, with an exaggerated spin of the wheels and a cloud of dust, he was gone without saying a foiking word (as they say in Belfast!). How odd the Beamer club!
In the absence of anyone else in authority, or anyone that far up the ladder of BMH3 success, Spinning Dwarf asked the hares for instructions and we were gone. A bit of road work got us to the first check where locals pointing at paper stuffed in a lamp post indicated that direction. Barbie, always ready with pearls of wisdom tells the assembled pack that it’s this way; the local lady just told me!! ‘Like, yeah right’ as both teenagers and adults say over in the States – such is their piss poor vocabulary!! And so it was that the trail was found in the opposite direction into the patch of jungle surrounded by concrete. It was here that 4 x 2 took an early bath in the first khlong – no – correction, he took two early baths. Having gone in once he bravely got up and dropped in again before reaching the other side. It was almost like a baptism gone wrong (imagine the scenario: putting him under the water and bringing him up the vicar says to an innocent hasher, have you found Jesus? He comes up gasping and says ‘no’. He is shoved under again for a long time and brought up floundering and gasping for air. The vicar asks him surely you have now found Jesus, to which he replies, ‘no I haven’t, but are you sure this is where he fell in’) Sorry, I’ll have to stop this thought.
Tim Wienands was looking rather sprightly, sporting a new Tata Young hairstyle. (ed: Isn’t Tata’s new song ‘Bloody Valentine’ rather good?) Adorable Blue Balls, who has apparently been crowned queen of the Siam Sunday Hash, came alongside running high on the balls of his feet, with headband immaculately in place like Mark Knopler (now there’s confidence for you!). But this looked elegant when compared with the minimum foot shuffle of ex Teddy Boy, Haiter Peacox. Then at ‘welaa sip pet nalika’ as she says every day without fail in all public parks, we all stopped reverently in the farang slum equivalent of Lumphini Park, that is, apart from Big Package who ran around checking oblivious to the Pleng Chat on the loudspeakers.
And then we were on on to a yard with arrows pointing under a locked gate! Well done hares! AKM circumnavigates, Tim and Kim scale the iron fence with aplomb while the rest of the old farts take time in making sure no private parts are left at the highest point of the fence when we drop to the other side.
Then..... in an act of pure theatre a drunken citizen appeared through the gloom on the khlong - and darkness fell suddenly. Stereos blasting most of the day, TV at its highest volume level, motorcycles without silencers and kids screaming on the soi. This is what this drunk had probably put up with without comment all day. And then, at 6.30pm after a bottle or two of Lao Kao, he hears the plaintive cries of ON ON – and this foiking upsets him!! I thought what we needed at this point was not the fine conciliatory stance of Narest and Tim, but a Bible thumping bully like Ian Paisley (whom Noriega’s bird might well know of), who would have blown him away with his fiery Protestant breath and left him shattered on the ground wondering what had happened. ‘’Take that you foiking sinner’’ – as he puts the boot in to finish him off. I will stop here.
Tickler our GM had arrived in time for the circle which was nice of him because he missed the first two runs under his reign and arrived late for the first run he attended; however we must be encouraged by this I think – things can only get better!! He gave Haiter Peacox his 200th run mug (it looked very much like a dainty harriettes mug) he welcomed visitors and told us about the anniversary of a US invasion years ago which resulted in the arrest of who else but Noriega. Returners included Deputy Dawg who had picked up a guy at a party (I think his name was Chuck? He looked like a Chuck) and brought him along. He looked after him well enough to give him an old Vientiane Hash T shirt, and let’s give him his due, he managed the run well for a visitor. But his entry to the circle revealed that he came from the Cenghiz Tesco Lotus School of Fashion. A fine light blue polyester shirt tucked hurriedly into crumpled whites held up at the waist by an inexpensive black belt and supported from below by a pair of unbranded black sandals. Total package probably around B400. But it’s a pity he forgot the socks! Perhaps just beyond the budget. But this surely begs the question, what sort of parties does Deputy Dawg attend? And what of the effrontery of bringing your one night stand to the hash!! Barbie tried to take over the circle on a number of occasions, but this was not sufficient to get him POTW which went to a lady (was it Brenda? She looked like Brenda) from Canada. However, without the paraphernalia it was a tame affair.
The on-on table groaned with prawns, fish and other sea food and diners at one end of the table groaned with the copious red wine on offer at that end of the table! It was very unusual for Gao but she dropped some food when scared shitless by a sudden outburst of manic laughter from our man who goes to strange parties, sitting next to her. But he was separated from his man by the wily Kim who has apparently lost none of her homing-in skills on visitors et al. I wanted to ask her about the 500kgs of excess luggage she brought through the airport bypassing customs and straight into lost and found. This while Thai Airways lost 1.57 million baht in the last nine months! However, it was impossible to intervene; with her eyes (ears and hands?) unflinchingly locked on Chuck the visitor, I gave it up as a bad job.
In the meantime the idyllic background looked upon anglers silently casting their rods, while others were entertained in angler’s rooms waiting for a bite – on their line, perhaps!
All for B200. As they say in Belfast ‘a foiking greeeat naaeete’.
Thanks hares. Anon.
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