After a series of two bus Hashes, the Magna Carta Run could only produce enough people for one bus. This is more profitable for Hash Cash but a definite failure for the Hares. Saigon South in District 7 is not popular because of the terrain and the open countryside. It is close to the City however, and that is certainly an advantage. Before we left the Caravelle events started to unravel. The extra chairs purchased for just such an over-load situation were on another bus. On the way to District 7, the driver took a wrong turning because he had no map or guidance. Pencil Dick had downloaded a map but had forgotten to bring it. The Hares, who should have produced a map, would be reminded of this later. At the start point, we all gathered round to see how long we could delay proceedings because one of the Hares, Mighty Quinn, had failed to turn up on time. GM gallantly leaped into the breach with a few announcements. Good To The Last Drop wanted names for the hotel offering reduced rate accommodation in Mui Ne. There was a bleat for Mui Ne T-Shirt sponsorship and some blatant advertising of our latest Hash Logo pin. At VND 20,000, these collector's items sold like hot cakes. Well done Doggy Style for suggesting that little enterprise. Shithouse and Aushole provided a further delay by christening their new shoes in traditional Hash fashion.

Eventually, enough was enough, and we headed off down a long straight track before turning right onto a boggy field. This led back onto the original track and then into a mangrove swamp and the infamous dyke system so prevalent in this area. The countryside was beautiful and there were many fish ponds to break up the monotony of the mangrove swamps. None of this was fully appreciated because most Hounds were concentrating on where they were putting their feet. The first half was sufficiently short for runners to realise they were back tracking ground previously covered. There was a Water Stop and a second half very similar to the first half. The only excitement was created by Beth who screamed as a large dog shot through the rushes. Those of us who could see the dog couldn't understand why she was screaming so we all got nervous in case she could see what was chasing the dog. It turned out to be nothing at all. We recovered our senses and moved on to the bus which was now parked in an area devoid of shade. Lots of scope for icing the Hares you would think.

We had to wait for about 30 minutes before the sun got low enough to allow the Vietnamese ladies to move away from the shade provided by the bus. This was not wasted time and Pencil Dick was able to get on with stringing the many Dog Tag awards that were due. Daniel, a German beer engineer, called required a Hash name so the usual ad hoc naming committee got together. Nothing came to mind and the Circle started with this issue unresolved. Not the smartest of moves as we shall read later. GM wanted to start with icing Karl, a front running racing bastard. He had been warned about this last week by Digitalis, but had failed to take heed. Somehow, he had got wind of what was in store for him and had legged it home in a taxi. What a wimp. So, we started with the Hares who slunk into place to be seriously abused by Peckerhead and pleasantly praised by Deadly Night Shade. GM, in what is known in legal terms as leading the witness, managed to persuade both reporters to sentence the Hares to time on the ice. Jack Off was spared because this sort of punishment was deemed inappropriate on Father's Day. Paddy Fag, thespian that he is, entered stage left and introduced the Virgins, Returnees and Visitors. In a somewhat confusing speech, he managed to fit bodily fluids, beer spillage and swallowing into the same sentence. His victims all seemed happy enough, probably because they could either not understand his accent or work out what he was saying or both. Spandex Man was put on the ice because he comes from Hanoi. Please note, it is not a Saigon Hash tradition to bare one's bottom on the ice. General Erection is another Hasher who falls into this, 'Too much information', category. Gentlemen, please desist in your efforts to foul the ice. Ladies, this does not apply to you.
Daniel was then placed on the clean ice block to receive his Hash name. There was no consensus and numerous names were bandied about. He Brew was an early runner but, brilliant though it was, it probably breached the Hash code of etiquette when applied to Germans. Woofter offered the equally brilliant Franken Stein, a name that was certainly in with a chance. El Flatulante and Peckerhead had got together to promote Bum Gravy and other names related to bodily functions. The final offering was Pissmeister. In a close run off between Franken Stein and Pissmeister the latter won out. Pencil Dick, having sorted out his jewellery and T-Shirts then made his usual speech about rewarding achievers. He had First Hare Set T-Shirts for Stray Pussy and Jack Off and 100 Run T-Shirts for Bush Wallaby and Woofter. There were also Dog Tags for 100 Runs and or 20 Hare sets for: Woofter, Bush Wallaby, Wet Rago ( due to the engraver mistaking the hole in the dog tag drawing for an 'O'), Hand Job, Deaf Teapot and Pencil Dick. Well done to all of you.

GM then described a few items in what, by any measure, was a slow news week. Paddy Fag led out a small group of saddle sniffers who were lucky enough not to live in Singapore where a man had just been given 14 years in jail and 18 lashes for sniffing armpits. Serves him right. What's wrong with saddles. The Australians then graced the Circle to pay penance for a Sydney jury found guilty of doing Sudoku puzzles instead of listening to the evidence. The judge, initially impressed by their note taking diligence, had to stop the trial once he found out they were solving puzzles. At this point GM lost Control of the Circle. Beth, wearing a decolletage revealing top, decided to remove the grass seeds from her socks. Supple as she is, there was no need to squat to perform this exercise. The voyeurs opposite, led by Bush Wallaby, were very appreciative of her diligence. Once order was restored and Bush Wallaby had calmed down, Paddy Fag and Big Mac jointly got stuck into the Euro Trash for failing to take note of Ireland's 'No' vote in their recent referendum on the Lisbon Treaty. Jack Off had a go at Pencil Dick because he didn't put up enough information on our web site about suitable dress for the Hash. One of our Vietnamese Virgins, Mr Tin had turned up in jeans for the run. Woofter charged Beth with being scared of a dog - cue Doggy Style to join her - and had Stray Pussy back on the ice for pouring beer over the GM and accusing him of a false charge without having first heard the charge. As a note of etiquette Stray Pussy, this is a Family Hash so there is no requirement to show your knickers when you sit on the ice. Paddy Fag got most of the Canadians up for sitting in the Circle. Bear Bear was excused because it was considered normal behaviour for a dog to sit on the ground.

There was a lot more of this nonsense, but I have had enough and I am sure you, dear reader, have as well. The important announcement was to remind all Hashers the bus would leave the Caravelle, with or without plastic stools, at 1400 next Sunday. Kiwi's, please check the web site Home Page to find out what that means.

It was still early, so there was a fair bit of social drinking before bus conductress, Friendly Bank, waved us all back on board. We forgive you because you make all those fantastic sandwiches for us. And then it was ON ON to the restaurant.

That's it.

Woofter

[. . . and another one from Pencil Dick]
This week’s run was held south of the city in Binh Chanh district. Saigon South has reputation for producing hot, flat and uninteresting runs. This time, however, the Hares managed to produce a run that was hot, flat and not so uninteresting. To be fair, there really isn’t much you can do when setting trails on mostly unreclaimed swampland.

It was just as well that the new start time hadn’t come into effect yet, because the relatively short bus trip meant that we started somewhat earlier than normal. 'On On! That way!', chimed our hares (with the notable absence of Mighty Quinn, who was rumoured to be on her way). 'That way' proved to be a one kilometer stretch of straight trail. Eventually, the paper peeled off and started looping around the back blocks. Looping was the operative word here, as those cunning hares took us in a perfect square before taking the pack on a new trail that led back to the out trail. After another one kilometer trot back along familiar territory, the hounds ended back near the start of the run for the waterstop.

After a quick much needed rehydration, and with no sign of the walkers, the pack headed off again. In a different direction, thankfully. The loopiness continued unabated however, with Doggy Style and Peckerhead charging off on their own, ignoring Hare Nutsucker and claiming they were on paper. They had, it son became apparent, found the exit to the loop that the horde were unknowingly followed. Daniel came inches away from a very embarrassing familiarity with a fish pond when he lost his footing, much to the disappointment of those following. After passing the walkers for the first time in the run, we came out onto - wait for it! - our favourite stretch of trail from the first leg, for the third time.

The beers at the end were even more welcome than usual, thanks to the heat and the lack of cover. In the fullness of time, GM Woofter called for the start of the Hash Circle, and the post-run festivities started. Hares Stray Pussy, Nutsucker, Jack Off and the tardy Might Quinn drew a unanimous response from the circle (“Ice!”) despite a relatively complimentary run report frm Peckerhead. RA Paddy Fag did his thing with the Virgins, and the crowd welcomed back Bearback Rider and Spandex Man. Daniel was awarded his Hash name, Pissmeister, mainly due to his noble work in producing our favourite tipple (beer, if you need a hint). The came the presentations of a huge number of awards: Stray Pussy and Jack Off Red Hare shirts), Bush Wallaby (100 run shirt), El Flatulente (50 run shirt), Pho Burger (25 run shirt), as well as a heap of 100 run and 20 hareset dogtags going to Bush Wallaby, Wet Rag, Deaf Teapot, Woofter and Pencil Dick.

The charges followed thick and strong at this point. Woofter and Paddy Fag then tag-teamed to heap abuse on the collective Eurotrash representatives present, something to do with EH hijinks. Assorted other sinners paid penance for their sin before calling the circle to a close. After that, it was On-On to the On-On at that barbecue restaurant above the Temple Club, whatever the hell it’s called.

On On!
Pencil Dick