Shithouse was determined to set a Hash with a difference. Despite repeated warnings from GM regarding the dangers of his Hare Less, or should we say brain less ideas, he went ahead with his plans. As my old Alaskan mate, Uncle Bruce, used to say: 'You can always tell the Dutch, but you can't tell them much'. We found the start in a rubber plantation just off to the left of the Vung Tau Road. This was fortunate, because all the Hares went on the second bus, leaving the majority of Hashers on a bus with no accurate knowledge of the start point. At least it had stopped raining.

We headed into groomed rubber plantations following a well laid trail of high quality, finely shredded paper. El Flatulante's office staff may not be Hashers, but they certainly know how to shred paper. After about 2 Km, we lost Doggy Style at one of the checks. With no sweeping Hare, losing a runner was guaranteed. The first objection GM had raised with Shithouse had come to pass. The checks, designed to keep both fast and slow runners together, were infrequent and easily solved. The fast runners were soon out of sight of the slow runners. Three Hash Halts were called to allow regrouping, beating our previous record by 2, and proving the second objection raised by GM. At each of these re-groupings, Trigger[? - Ed.], for reasons best known to himself went on ahead, selfishly ignoring the back markers. Perhaps these were his moments of glory because he was soon reeled in by Woofter, Mouse Beater and Fukoffee. The running surfaces were excellent and the trail was clearly marked, but you had to be into rubber to get the most out of this site. A planned 8 km run turned out to be a 10 km effort much appreciated by the athletes but probably a copse too far for the drinkers with a running problem.

The 'Down Down' site had been carefully chosen to allow maximum feeding opportunities for the large mosquitoes that frequented the woods. They were so big, some of them had tail gunners! The beer and the ice were moved to the front of the bus, increasing the danger of collision with frequent and curious bike riders, but at least we had reduced the risk of small children being carried away by large insects. Avoid woods for 'Down Down' sites. A lesson learned on the Volcano Run.

Paddy Fag wanted the Hares up first. So, up they came to be immediately iced by GM for failing to heed his timely warnings. Shithouse didn't want to comply because he is Dutch. His objections just secured him extra ice time. El Flatulante gave a glowing account of the run based mainly on the loss of Doggy Style. A feat, many have attempted over the past 4 years, but none have achieved. RA then called up the Virgins, Returnees and Visitors. Just as Paddy Fag was getting into his stride, trotting out his well warn jokes about helping people lose their virginity, a bedraggled yellow shirted runner appeared in the distance. It was Doggy Style. Once he had recovered his breath, he was put on the ice for causing unnecessary worry for his mates, Bush Wallaby and Aushole. It was hard for Paddy Fag to recover his momentum following this dramatic interruption, so he didn't. Pencil Dick handed out a Red hareshirt to Thang for his first Hareset and a 100 Run Shirt to Fukoffee.

GM then brought the Hash up to speed on world non-events. An American man claimed he had made love to 1,000 cars so his colleagues from the US of A gave him a toast. Stick or Shift was the only observation from this group. The cry of, "Get your tits out darling', may soon be changed to, 'Get your tits out mate', due to the increasing incidence of man boobs or moobies. Our well endowed mooby men showed the girls how it was done. The girls politely declined to respond in kind. Leicester County Council in England were none too happy about allowing a road project to over-run by $2,000,000 just to preserve a site of rare crested newts. It turns out they were common newts and the name says it all. Our engineers and construction workers were happy to drink to that. Deaf Teapot and Woofter wanted to know when they were going to finish cleaning up the canal outside their respective houses.

Next up was a naming ceremony for Allan and Julia. He is a dodgy art dealer and occasional guitar player from Malaysia. She is a teacher who knows a thing or two about spanking. When asked what age group she taught, she said she didn't teach. What a great job and she gets paid for it. Velvet Elvis, Organ Grinder and one or two other unmentionables were trotted out by the Circle. El Flatulante, as ever, tried to flog ‘Bum Gravy’ but there were no takers. Finally, it was decided Julia would be called Head Mistress and Allan would be known as Arthole. Not a bad effort from the team although I preferred ‘Velvet Elvis’.

Then we moved on to the charges. El Flatulante was given a beer for getting his legs burnt during his recent Brazilian waxing. Doggy Style had another beer and the Hares were hit again for basic incompetence. Woofter was then charged by Paddy Fag for spilling his wine at a recent MMC meeting. He tried to liken his RA faith to a bloke whose name began with 'J' and had the ability to turn water into wine. Lost Our Seoul took a bit of stick before Woofter was let of the ice and Paddy Fag was wheeled back to his usual position, propping up the Eskie. That taxi never did arrive! Then it was the turn of Bush Wallaby to give the GM some stick for boring the pants off Mighty Quinn. Fat chance of that happening but a nice thought! Once all this nonsense died down, we moved on to the announcements.

Kien Tran, one of our newish Vietnamese runners has decided to walk to Hanoi. We all know the buses in Vietnam are dangerous but isn't that taking safety precautions a bit too far. Mighty Quinn had a couple of points to raise regarding our new clothing ideas. The Circle paid her full respect by shutting up for her appearance. Woofter gave a burst on supporting a charity called 'Operation Smile' (with an interruption when Paddy Fag piped up with a pledge to support the Smiley Bar) and handed out cards for Haong Lai Restaurant at 38, Ly Tu Trong Street. Mr Jin, a Japanese engineer, trains up street orphans and then places them in the better hotels in town. His Vietnamese restaurant is too small to hold a Hash 'On On', but we could individually support his worthy cause by having the occasional meal there.

We decided on 15 minutes social drinking because no-one was keen to face a bus full of hungry mosquitoes. And then it was on to the 'On On' at some Nepalese (or was it a Neapolitan?) place in Le Thanh Ton.

That's it,

Woofter