Master: *Zameer Ali -6789-172 Betty Agostini, Flash Boos
Hash Ass: Justin Henry -766-4694 Vaughn James, ArleneValdez
Hash Ca$h: Lorin Paton – 622-5806 (O) Hash Booze: Nevie Boos – 637-3033 (H)
On-Sec: **Mumtaz Amarali - 625-3617 ext 29436 Hash Softies: Richard Marlay – 351-3694
Hare Line: Michelle Girod – 622-2204 (H)
**email address : firstname.lastname@example.org
RUN: #663 RUN
SCRIBE: Hawkeye HARES: Keith Neives/Gerry/Derek De Freitas
How Pierrot Grenade does spell that place? It’s easy
I went to Ire Bites for lunch before setting off on the Hash to be at one with the brothers and sisters that went to Jarland. Like a blight set in one time!
We left town late because the visiting Brit borrowed my car to collect his hash gear and in doing so he promptly fell asleep as a result of over indulgences the night before. Then there was the predictable traffic, a long short cut behind Piarco and no previous Hash Trash for directions. The first time I would be late for a Hash. Arrived at Hash site to discover that the Hash start was fortunately also delayed. As superstition would have it I now assumed that three things had gone wrong and I had now gone clear.
Rasmaster in full BM regalia, accent, dreadlocks etc. welcomed all to the real Jar run #663.
The Arena forest
beckoned with the shout of ON- ON. Everything going good, until I jump over the
first ditch and bounce full frontal into
the Rasmaster. You writing the trash and as he say dat and ten paces on, big chief hare reminding
Rasmaster to appoint a scribe. A done deal.
What beautiful terrain, we ran here, there and everywhere, nobody cussing about a next hill to climb, the earth soft underfoot. Trying to recall the specific highlights of the run is impossible as it was all good. Under the trees, into the bush, down valley and up mound, the front runners getting seduced at each circle along the wrong trail. The hash was quickly X rated, the middle and back packs frolicking with the front runners, men washing men’s feet and women only watching in awe.
Our first glimpse of the lake through the trees, the run along its banks, any miscalculation ending in souls lost in saturated waters edge waiting for the full blast of the rains to fill its crocodile cracks. Rasmaster pointing at mirages of same.
Back into the woods, we climbed the highest mound, traversed the ridge and wallowed in the valley, canine swimming in water, no Raymond to rule the pack. And then Neives determining who fit for the trail, sending the frail whimping down the short cut. I faulted for a moment but my responsibility for writing the trash egged me on, on what turned out to be the easiest part of the hash.
On reaching the pines the sound underfoot suddenly changed to crick-crack with the sound of pine needles succumbing to the collective weight of the mid pack. A 3-ton in the middle of this wilderness caught us off -guard and whispered speculation was rampant about goings on the f… trucking tray. No Nevi around to say Hello! Hello!
Soon we were running up a dry sand filled ravine and only on a hash could people speculate on how the sand reach there; ideal conversation or dottishness? Nearing the end of the short ON-IN, a youth runs past shouting Water! Water! Was it a cry for drinking or Holy water to anoint yet another man’s foot.
A really, really, nice, nice run! Or was it a really, really, really, nice run! I can’t decide. I think I prefer the latter
The run done, I made the mistake to change and sweeten-up before tackling the chow. All gone! Instructions given to make my own, a culinary skill long lost, so on to the beers, burgers and dogs. Give praise to the hard working Mrs. Chow but save some chow for me next time. Please!
The BM look-alike Rasmaster soon called the hash to order and let me know in no uncertain terms that I must make mention of his secretary for the day Taz with the nice white sexy shorts ( Pinni! For your enlightenment the appropriate name these days is Administrative Assistant). We were reminded over and over again that this was the real hash and not the ALTERNATOR, but then again Rasmaster is into cars so we can forgive the mix-up this time.
The Pastor and wife brought a truckload of virgins to the site and the Rasmaster had to explain what a Hash virgin was before they came forward to claim their free beer/sofftie. Maybe that explains the 3-ton in the forest.
As the Down Downs continued my stomach started grumbling and rumbling for food with the smell of burgers and dogs in the atmosphere, so I drifted away in that direction missing the bacchanal of the poofter for the day. However, I have been reliably informed that the poofter by overwhelming majority was none other than the man who anoints men’s feet and the voice of the atheist among us was heard above all else in this proclimation.
The surprisingly large hash lingered until after nightfall and the hardcore longer into the star filled night. No matter how hard we try we could not get the Hash DJ to play not one BM tune so that we could bond with our brothers and sisters in JAR-MAKE-CAR.
ON-ON we journeyed to the closest bar for drinks and food. One notable front runner missed the calling, scuttling off gollum-like to probably anoint his feet with water and bed.
Adjacent to the bar was the usual food shed with the sweaty fat mama doing her thing. The menu included gizzards, fried chicken, chips, meat and potato pies. My sampling did not rate it highly but it save a few brain cells from alcoholic poisoning.
My Brit companion had a few too many by now and struck up a conversation with a Trini who had lived in UK, then Italy for 18 year, married an Italian chick, brought her here on holiday and she refused to go back. The moral of that story is of course “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.” Ex lovers take note.
Having had just enough
to manage the road, I retrieved the Brit from the claws of Tinibritishitalian,
he was fading fast. Despite the lack of conversation the journey home was
entertaining, in that the Brit would momentarily fall forward with a sudden
jerk backwards without my pressing of brakes, then the stretching of the hands
to support the concealed yawn that ended in an agouti like face. Priceless! All
Got to get some Bob Bochelli and Stones for the next Hash and some big boom boxes like Richard and play my own Bob Marley music in memory of the JAM-MAKE-CAR ALERNATOR HASH.
It was a good experience to be Hash Master for a day, thanks to ZAMEER ALI H.M., the run was very good and well planned, with some nice trails and an opportunity to run through the dam because of the low level of water in it. The down downs went good with the help of the ON SEC and others a good time was had by all with the usual pit stop at the appointed bar in the area……pinny
Welcome to the virgins : Natasha/Andre/Myron/Joseph/Trynelle/Stacy/Candace/Akila/Dominica/Barry/Stewart/Lisa/Shelly/Charlie/Gabriel
Poofter Nominees : Pinny for seeing a crocodile/Dave with 2 dogs/Nile with 6 bottles of water/Jospeh for asking a man to wash his legs
Poofter : Joseph Combs (brought by Father Michael Chatfield)
After a long alcohol-filled day of traveling and a hard night at Hedonism II with 3 other people who shall remain nameless (what goes on in Hedonism stays in Hedonism – right Asha, David and Terrence?), your scribe awoke very early on Saturday morning to the tragic disappearance of cell phone and money. What a way to start the day!
The hash that day was to
be set by H.M. Ozama bin Hashing and the local run consultant, none other than our
own beloved John Townend who is now resident in
We all assembled at the
front of the hotel at and boarded into 2 maxi taxis. Noticeably missing was Juicy P, who was busy
all morning fetching drinks for everyone while we were soaked in the clear,
calm waters of beautiful
Our maxi was driven by a very pleasant local Jamaican called Sparrow who was immediately renamed Spider by Andre for some unknown reason. Off we went promptly at but had to turn back some 10 minutes into our journey because the keys of the car carrying the booze and the hares were in our maxi for more unknown reasons.
We finally reached our destination, the hash site at the top of hill. It was hot and we did not look forward to the start of the hash. “Drink lots of water”, John warned and guided us to the back of his SUV for the cold H2O.
Ozama introduced the hares, John and Sean Paul (a local) and of course, himself. He then proceeded to ramble on about how difficult it was to organize everything, that we almost did not make it to Jamaica, detailing all the obstacles he encountered, all the things that Lorin did not agree to, blah, blah, blah. Poor Zam!
Well, we were soon off –
down a hill, and then down another hill.
The run was well-set and kept the small pack together while we ran
around in the hills. It was up and then
down, then up and up, then down and up and then ….. Well, you get the
picture. Then we came to a small ravine,
where this huge pig was sitting in some mud.
Somehow, the pig was scared by the sight of Victor, the priktor and
started yelping and running off. Strange
occurrence this, could it be that this pig was in contact with his fellow pigs
About half an hour into the run, we finally came onto some flat running that led us across a field and then out onto the road and a check. Dexter, that well known Big Dick, turned right but the right way was left! One more check later and then there was the On-In and a run straight up the hill that we had driven up earlier.
After the run, Eggie,
Christian and Dexter presented yours truly with some Bulla! Our driver, Sparrow, said that “Bulla taste
good with cheese!”. He somehow didn’t
understand why we were all killing ourselves laughing! “Why him laffing so?” he inquired. Bulla is apparently some type of Jamaican
bread that is slightly sweet. When we
explained that bullers in
The Hash Ass, the wanna-be hash master and unfortunately soon-to-be hash master, Justin (he suggested that I put something flattering about him in the trash e.g. “the eagerly anticipated hash master of 2008” – but he should know better!) led the down-downs. There were 2 virgins, Raj’s cousin (haha) and Shirlotte, a Jamaican that CAME with John Towned, apparently several times. Timothy wore new shoes and was duly rewarded by drinking out of them. And the Poofter was…………… Barbara for running off and leaving the Matouks behind.
Ozama then promised that we were going to a local bar with a pool. “Yeesss!” we all thought, we would soak our tired, hot bodies and drink ice, cold red stripe! When we actually reach the bar, the “pool” turned out to be a “pole” – for “pole dancing”! Well, our little group eat, drink, dance, pole-danced for close to 3 hours. We literally had to be dragged out of the bar by the H.M. Victor damaged his right arm while pole-dancing (don’t ask how, you had to be there to witness this debacle to believe it!) and remained with this huge black and blue mark the entire weekend – not a pretty sight.
Other pole dancers were Zam alone, Asha and Betty who did a singing and pole dancing duet to that famous tune “I will survive” and then Zam and the waitress – tiny winy. There was also the 5-year little Jamaican girl who put us all to shame with her dancing prowess on the pole. All in all, a very good run and evening and a really great weekend! Thanks to Zam who single-handedly (the same hand he uses for sex) pulled off a fantastic weekend.
Hares: Loren and Barbara
Scribe: A Real
Ah. Sunday morning.
Beautiful Negril. Sunshine and tranquil blue waters with 7 miles of gleaming
sand. Day 3 of the
Shoot Mon!! Who could really sleep in when there is so much hash life out there? (ONLY Terrance!!) So awake at a decent hour by my standards (I should mention that those who commented on my morning face were not very nice) I was soon breakfasted and ready to lime with the numbers gathered under the carrot hut in front of the hotel. I was ready to enjoy my day but NOT RUN! After all, I had done the Saturday Run. Surely I had done de ting which allowed me to guzzle, oogle, paddle and party for the weekend?? So, I happily settled down with the gang to soak in the water, beer in hand and watch some of them try out the para-sailing, parade in items bought from beach vendors, demand everyone entering the water balance as many beers as possible. Just enjoy the good life but NOT RUN.
Several hours later we were joined by the hares of the day, Barbara & Lorin. Barbara positively beaming because Lorin had thrown himself in front of her to save her from a ferocious dog. He sustained injuries whilst they were doing their duty. No –not the marital duty, this brave couple had risked life and marriage to set a run in virgin terrain with only one reccee and no local input! BRAVO! The ole talk quickly turned to Lorin’s past hash injuries as he sat, stoic as usual, smile on his face, beer in hand and with blood dripping from his wound. But where was lunch? We had expected Justin & Co to return with the famous Jamaican Patties. Granted Justin had not sobered up since leaving T&T but we were hungry. Well, seems that it is: “ Sunday Mon, shop shut up” A passing beach vendor saved us but with a whispered and stern warning that some of the patties we were happy to eat could be filled with donkey meat. Two thoughts hit me one time: I doh care, ah so hungry ah go eat a horse AND Why was everyone rushing their food to get ready for the RUN?
THE RUN? EVERYONE? The pressure was on:
“ This is a hash weekend”
“Babs and Lorin has risked their life for this run” “Rachael done claim she drunk to miss a run so dat ent go work” “ Doh fraid yuh go sober up jus now” “No hills, no water, no mud”
So to ON ON to the RED DRESS RUN.
THE RUN - and the journey to the RUN:
, or thereabouts, the crowd began to gather. But wait! NO RED DRESSES? The buzz was that our virile and handsome hash men running in red dresses through their villages might offend the Jamaicans. Not wanting to spill more blood that day, especially their own, our men had sighed loudly and packed away their pretty red party dresses. BUT THEN (please turn up the volume): DA DA DA …DA DA DA : There he came proudly strutting down the hotel corridor: DA DA DA…..DA DA DA Rocky David Jamison, all geared up in a short red satin robe and looking like there were no boxer’s shorts under it! A flurry of activity ensued: Betty and Susan returned to their room to change into their red/burgundy/rust dresses. Someone pulled down pants to show a red Y front. Raj squeezed himself into a borrowed red T shirt. Timothy claimed he was the only one brave enough to wear red. Zam lifted his shirt to reveal a tiny red bikini top. Rachael pouted because Zam filled it out more than she did. Photo shoot, picong……and so on and so on until Lorin began to get edgy and we bundled off to the run. OR SO WE THOUGHT!
About 8.25 minutes later we approached the village. The buses turned up a road and we thought, ‘ oh yeah, no hills, a village run. The buses pulled up outside of a shop and hashers tumbled out of Sparrow’s bus and piled into the store. Lorin looked aghast! Hashers then began to tumble out of Robert’s bus. Lorin sat fidgeting! After 10 minutes Lorin entered the store to investigate. There they were, rummaging through shelves and racks for red clothing - even stripping red clothes off a mannequin! “ But, this was not supposed to happen” Lorin exclaimed. Then he sighed a he realized Barbara was not part of the shopping frenzy! Soon all piled back into the buses and ablaze in red – except Barbara and Lindy - we set off for the run. OR SO WE THOUGHT! A mere 2 minutes later we pulled up outside of a cafe. A beer stop, a pee stop? No, an ‘authorized' dealer’ stop! Well, the question is who did not buy ganja cakes? OK – we ready for the run site now. Passing beach side resorts and then cliff side resorts we finally turned up a narrow road to the run site. A drive that would have normally taken 15 minutes … we were almost an hour late!
Rearing to go now, hashers exited the buses, coloring the rich greenery with brilliant shades of red and Victor’s red and deep pink outfit! Then, DA DA DA….DA DA DA Was Jamison was taking off his red robe? Yes – that cheat!! Whew! At least there were shorts underneath!
So, with the usual tripe from the hares, we set off ‘up’ the road and to a T-junction. Check. False to the left. ON ON. Bush & track. Nice, Nice. Check. Through another track and unto a gravel road. To the right or up the slope? The pack was divided. Lorin shouted : ON ON. Barbara exclaimed : “Lorin! Tell them ON BACK” Lorin said: “Why Barbara, they are ON.” Barbara exclaimed ; “Well, fool dem, nah!” ON ON. Through similar terrain and pass some ‘ferocious’ pot hounds. Which one had damaged our precious Lorin? Was it really a dog or was it the meek looking baby goat? This run was moving. The front-runners were gone in dust and gravel and Barbara was mis-leading the small backpack on a false trail…. She was smiling - she fool dem.
Finally down a dusty road to the ON IN onto the main road back to Rick’s Café.. No hills, no water, no mud – An A to B run in virgin terrain and just the perfect length for a Sunday Red Dress Run in the hot Jamaica sun….. SO I SAY!
Post Run –
Bussin’ into the world famous Rick’s café and in awkward running gear did not seem to make much of an impact on the hordes of tourists there!
The hot and worn out runners commented, “ we wish the tourists would leave” – but of course, that did not stop us from enjoying ourselves. Beer, Rum and Margaritas did help!
We cheered as Pete T, Christian, Derek & Eggy leapt off the cliff into the sea. We gasped as Nicole Matouk fell asleep on a 12-inch ledge that overhung rocky cliffs. We laughed as Lorin gorged on ‘boneless’ chicken wings. We sat in awe of the spectacular view and waited with drinks in hand, to see the green flash. We actually gathered and listened as the hash hush was called in the bustling resort AND we all agreed that Jamison deserved Poofter for his outrageous Red Robe tease strip. Fed and Watered we piled back into the buses to drink and eat more at the hotel, looking forward to soaking in the pool, or swimming in the sea, liming at some night spot or like Alistair and Zia………..
Hares: Justin and Betty
I think it was just
about ten of us that managed to roll out off bed at 7.30am in time for Justin
and Betty’s live run which didn’t actually start until ten pass eight. I’m
still wondering where the hares found the energy since they managed to set the
longest run of the whole hash weekend. They led us down the beach and then back
out on the road and after ten minutes we were back at the hotel. I was hoping
that that was it since breakfast was smelling real good but the trail
continued… It was a good thing we passed backed at the hotel cause Eggy and his
crew were up and ready to join the run. The hashers took their bad habits to
Tantie reach de airport on time yuh understan’ and ah see dem motley crew ah hashers line up about 20 ah dem in de check in line an’ ah fin’ dey was lookin’ like dey need some ironin’ on dey face, fust dey look so mash up, especially one name Terrance, he look like he come straight from ah nite ah drinkin’ an’ limin’. So anyways, I have meh grip wit all meh vital supplies, like Crix, bake an’ buljol, black puddin’ and some sugarcake and toolum, becuz ah wasn’t too sure what dem Jamaican jerk pork an’ chicken an’ ackee an’ salfish woulda taste like … yuh know me, ah fussy when ah ready….
So anyways, after we book in, we gorn in de people an’ dem waiting lounge an’ is only ah setta ah ole’ talk and jokes becuz we real excited about de trip. Ah tell dem de only words I know in Jamaican is ‘reggae, Bob Marley and
Rastafari, Haile Selassie I’. Den when we ready to board de plane Miss Asha decide to trip over ah chair and fall flat on she face…an’ she not even drunk yet!
So we land in Barbadoze an’ de Immigration Officer ask Zam de Hash Master : ‘whey allyuh goin?” Zam say
So we reach in Montego Bay , jump inna bus an’ bus it on de road to Negril taking us 2 hours, In de meantime de bus driver give us some history an’ information about de areas we passing, but Mr. Terrance decide dat he goin’ to ask him “what do you call the people that come from Negril?” He feel he smart, he looking for some kinda answer, but de driver say’ Westmoorlanders” - Good for he…..
So we reach de hotel , it hot like hell, some people airconditioning not workin’ but everytime get sorted out in de end. Dinner an’ den bedtime for tantie, but eh, eh, next morning we fin’ out that a big ole’ tief went in Betty
Room and tek she handbag, she money an’ cellphone and trow de bag on de grass. He bold eh! (But between you and me ah feel is de security guard who was watching she when she come in drunk from limin’ – ah hear dem security guards in dem hotels does tief bad!)
De next day was a run but ah really have to tell allyuh on dat run ah see de biggest piggy in meh life! No, no
It wasn’t ah naked Rasta ….it was ah real pig playing in de mud!!! After de run, we end up in ah shack posing as ah bar but de lime an’ dancing was good, dey also had some of de village children come around to see what was goin’ on. Dem hashers try to do some pole dancing but Mr. Victor who feel he is still some young man try it and end up damaging he shoulder….
De next day was another run an’ hashers have to dress in red…de bus drivers had to stop at a shop for dem who didn’t bring anything red , Well Terrance decide he like some shirt in de show window wit ah flowersing design an’ he an’ de rest ah dem buy up de place….Den dey decide dey want to buy ganja cakes….So dey stop again for de cakes….So we reach de site and what happen is dat was run was short becuz we get to understan’ dat de hare
Mr. Lorin and he wife was attacked by 3 pitbull and he get a big bite on he arm an’ was dripping blood so he decide he go just make it to Rick’s bar to wash it off wit beer….We end up dere havin’ fun, watchin’ people jumpin’ off de cliffs, watching de sunset and generally getting drunk. But ah have to tell yuh about de ganja cakes,,,It affect everybody who eat it, like Asha…she start talkin’ loud how she doh like people who does horn…Lindy start to shake and trmble, some odder people start to feel strange and walk unsteady, but me, ah take a piece an nuttin’ happen to me…..ah still waiting for some effect, Ah feel maybe meh constitution too strong for dem ganja cakes….
Next day, it was de live run. We give de hares 10 mins. Start and den we tek off…but dat was ah hard run becuz we had to waz run outta de hotel, back into de hotel, into de street, right side, left side, back again across de road wit cars speeding, Ah was getting dizzy but it finally end on one long run back to de hotel on de beach….
After dat, it was limin’ and drinkin’ and den dey decide dey goin’ to try de bouncy castle on de water, See dem big hard back hashers behaving like little chirren….Den dey decide dey want to go on de Banana Boat dat tek dem bouncing over de water….. Dem hashers really like nonsense yes! Plenty was to be seen on de beach, like two police officers holdin’ hands, a male and female, I never see dat yet! Den we get to eat dem delicious Jamaican patties – ah mek sure to bring back some wit meh for mey family an’ dem….
De last day was
time to just pack up and leave but ah have to say Tantie enjoy sheself too bad
By de way let meh tell yuh who was in de motley crew ;
TERRENCE, ASHA, DAVE, BETTY, ALASTAIR, ZIA, LORIN, BARBARA, DEXTER, EGGY, CHRISTIAN, JUSTIN
ZAM, RACHEL, RAJ, KAY, VICTOR, JOHN, SUSAN, MICHAEL, ROBERT, PAULA, PETER, LINDY, NICOLE ANDRE AND TIM……. ON ON!!!
Two down 24 more t-shirts to go! This last Hash saw us ending up on a Big Bust lime, which was, by all accounts, was very mediocre. No beers were drunk, no poles were wined on (‘cept mine, doh tell Juicy Pee), no pee stops were made
15 down, 11 more t-shirts to go! Or is it 16? The REAL last run saw the TRUE hashers going to Negril for the overseas hash. By all accounts it was very mediocre, no one was burgled(or buggered), no poles were wined on, no weed cakes were eaten, no rubber gangplanks were attempted and very few beers were drunk. Thanks to POSH3 for sponsoring all 26 of us!
Virgins: K and Shurlette. Poofters: Nicole Matouk and Dave Jamison.
Thanks to all who supported this venture, especially Blue Waters for the t-shirts.
It's now ON ON to
Dixee Chicks D HOTTEST RALLY CHALLENGE In aid of BG Energy Charity Fund Raiser
Start: Angostura Front
Carpark, Laventille Finish:
Contact: Dianne - 757-7772 Joanne Esdale - 784-1058 Betty - 680-7539 Teheli - 774-9634
HARES: Big Dicks Run
RUN SITE: Lopinot
Head east from POS on
Drive time about 1 hour from POS without any major traffic disruptions.
RECEDING HARE LINE
RUN # DATE HARES SITE
665 July 14 Big Dicks Lopinot
666 July 28 Kevin Matthews
667 Aug 11 Harold/Arthur/Patrick
669 Sep 8 The 3 Dicks
670 Sep 22 Men who get leave (horn) run
671 October 6 The Fockers
672 October 20 Poker/Pat Bynoe/Ben Nivet
673 November 3 Simon Wescott/Alister Martin/Natalie
& 675 November 10
676 November 17 Wahid
677 December 1 The Life Guard Crew (Peter Dixon/Doon/Paul/Kern)
678 December 15
679 December 29