Dear Doctor Down-Down,
I hope you don’t mind, but this letter is for your piss boy, Flying Booger.
Over the past few months I’ve been working on the West Coast – I fly from Washington DC to Los Angeles every week. Since you were a pilot before you went to work for Doctor Down-Down, can you explain FWA (Flying While Asian) to me? Why is it that Asian men decide the best time to use the potty is three minutes before landing? The first time I noticed this occurance was on a red eye into Washington Dulles – the flight attendent freaked (I don’t blame her). Let’s face it, I’m not a very pleasant person at 530am and the thought of having to sit on the tarmac for hours while the incident gets investigated made me pretty damn angry. Luckily, that wasn’t the case. Then last week three Asian men were playing musical chairs before landing. Guess it helped the one who couldn’t use the bathroom with his bladder. Oh, another question about flying. Is it normal to get all bloated and gassy?
On *poot* On!
Pay Per View
Dear Ms View,
My my, I didn’t realize our piss boy had female fans! Well, I have to admit I don’t know the first thing about flying (or Flying Booger either, it appears), so I gave him your letter. Here’s Flying Booger’s answer:
Hi, PPV! I thought “W” stood for “Worst” when it came to flying, like in Trans Worst Airlines, SouthWorst, and America Worst. Never heard of Flying While Asian, but it sounds rather judgemental, doesn’t it? Surely not all Asians are idiots on airplanes . . . it seems to me that passengers in general are idiots, white, black, or otherwise. Ever hear some of the shit Access Denied tried to pull last time he flew?
But the airlines are idiots too. They’ve got this thing now where they won’t let anybody get up to use the restroom until they get to cruising altitude, which is about an hour after takeoff, and then they won’t let you get out of your seat to stand in line for the restroom if someone’s already in it, and they won’t let you walk through business and first class to see if the front restroom is open. Now they threaten to call in the air marshals and the FBI if you try to take a piss in the last thirty minutes of flight! Don’t they understand that out of 120 people, 20 or 30 of them all have to pee at the same time, and that telling them they have to stay in their seats just makes them have to pee even more? Even terrorists have to pee sometime!
No fucking wonder you get bloated! As for gassy, that’s (poot) one of the prices we pay for flying. Be glad airliners are pressurized . . . you should have smelled a cabin full of pax back in the old days!
Flying Booger (for Doctor Down-Down)
Dear Doctor Down-Down,
I have a hash laundry question for you. I loaned a long sleeve white hash T-shirt to a very cute hariette before the Friday afternoon hash in Costa Rica. Unfortunately, it poured down rain and the trails were covered with mud and clay, as was the shirt when I got it back (I think she was too) . . . anyhow, since I have been back in the States, I have washed that damn thing four times, soaked it in Clorox twice, and even have tried Sray & Wash with no luck. I really don’t want to chuck the shirt as it is a one-of-a-kind hash shirt and can’t be replaced . . . so my question is, how do I clean the shirt, or I do I accept the shirt as is, with the stains, and extract sexual favors from the dirty deed doer?
Dear Mr. Happens,
What the hell is wrong with you? You say a cute harriette wore your T-shirt? Why would you EVER want to wash it?
Dear Doctor Down-Down,
Am I the only hasher that has a commissioned portrait of ‘G’ looking at my dinner table? It was a wedding present.
She Mussel Bitch
Dear Ms Bitch,
Oh, I hardly think so. Nurse Wretched picked one up for me at InterAm in Austin a couple of years ago. It’s painted on black velvet, G’s eyes look right at you and follow you around the room, there’s a working clock in his navel, and (this is so cool I could shit) an embedded chip that plays “The Mayor or Bayswater’s Daughter” when you touch G’s nose!
A few months ago, Flying Booger asked if G or any of the other founders of hashing ever said “no rules.” Here’s a letter from Ian Cumming, revered hash elder and founder of the Singapore HHH:
Dear Doctor Down-Down, Flying Booger, and anyone else who’s eavesdropping,
Did G and his bored bachelor buddies ever say “No Rules”? A good question, probably unanswerable. According to Euclidian logic it would make no difference if we answer either way. Either they said it (in my opinion, unlikely) and then no activities were recommended or otherwise, or they didn’t say it and no activities were recommended or otherwise.
To support the latter, I quote John Vincent, Hash Honsec in 1962, in response to the question as to the reporting responsibilities to Mother from the second Hash (or if you accept the Apocrypha, the third.) His answer was clear and plain. It demonstrated a stroke of genius that has guided the spreading of Hashing worldwide, to the envy of countless other athletic clubs, churches, governments, businesses and any organization venturing into the no-man’s land of expansion ever since.
He said: “I dunno. Nothing to do with us in KL. Let us know how you get on from time to time.” Note no mention of “no rules”.
He also sent a copy of KL’s Charter, which we amended in the membership section on the advice of the Emergency Societies Registration Department. We deleted “Dogs, women and other bad characters shall be excluded from Membership.” This was replaced with: “Dogs shall be excluded from Membership. Women and other bad characters shall be excluded from Membership.
I’m sure many of us have encountered rules that have outlived their usefulness, but that does not justify defiance of civilization’s guidelines.
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