Dear Doctor Down-Down,
I’m an American soldier stationed overseas. I discovered hashing a couple of years ago and love everything about it, or almost everything about it. You see, even though the local hashers are always nice to me, I get the sense they think we military hashers are second-hand citizens. And I suppose it must be true – I read in a book that the original Kuala Lumpur hashers were all civilian businessmen.
Don’t you believe that civilian shit for a minute! And go back and read that book again, because I can tell you didn’t read it very carefully. For starters, some of the founders of the Kuala Lumpur Hash House Harriers joined the military and fought in Europe and the Pacific during World War Two – Gispert himself was a reservist and died in uniform, killed on Dairy Farm Road in Singapore by invading Japanese.
The hash owes much of its growth to military members. The second hash in the world, the Royal Bordighera HHH in Italy, was founded in 1947 by Captain Gus Mackey, a British officer who learned hashing in Malaysia before the war. While expats and diplomatic personnel had an important role in spreading the hash throughout Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia, Australia, and New Zealand, many new hashes in those countries were started by military men, experienced hashers who couldn’t stand being posted to hash-less stations. The first hash in England, in 1968, was organized by another British military man, Richard McAllister. While civilian expat oilmen and diplomats started many of the hashes in the Middle East and Africa, the success of the hashes they started depended on the large numbers of locally-stationed military personnel who joined up. Even the USA owes its first hash — the Fort Eustis HHH in Virginia — to a military man, British exchange officer Major Frank Arnold. More than half of the hashes to which I have belonged were founded by military men and women.
So ignore those arrogant civilians. They owe us more than they’ll ever know. And if it makes you feel any better, who do you suppose will start the first hash in Iraq?
p.s. Didn’t know I was a vet, did you? Frankly, I’m surprised too!
Dear Dr. Down-Down,
I had another disturbing dream last night. I dreamed I was at Stray Dog’s house, nekkid. We were hanging out watching a new TV show about these part monkey-part elephant-part human creatures. White House H3′s former GM, RAS, was the leader of the creatures.
Pay Per View
Dear Ms. View,
I am sorry to be telling you this, but the doctor is gone and so is Flying Booger, and Nurse Wretched will not feed me until I answer the e-mail. I am Sally, the one-legged Bosnian girl who helps out at the clinic, and who is grateful for her daily bowl of gruel. I am just an uneducated girl, not a doctor at all, but I am thinking you need a cold shower. Sometimes I dream I still have two legs, like I did before I stepped on the mine, but I always have my dress on. And who is this “Stray Dog” person? Is he the one who gets Flying Booger so hopping mad all the time? I, of course, cannot hop anymore, so I do not get so mad as Flying Booger. Boy, does he get mad sometimes! Ha Ha! Sometimes he says dirty words. It is okay with me, except for when he gets so mad he kicks my crutch away. Then I do not think it is so funny. What is a “cocksucker?” That is a word Flying Booger says many times.
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