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Ask Doctor Down-Down: September 1995

Dear Doctor Down-Down,

I hash with a small group in Bangkok, Thailand. I guess we’re a pretty conservative bunch, because we don’t use marks other than paper and checks. I went hashing recently during a holiday trip to America and saw a chalk circle with the letters “BC” inside. I never did figure out what that symbol meant . . . do you know?

On On,
Tim “Magic” Hughes

Dear Magic,

Of course I know . . . I’m Dr. Down-Down! What you saw is commonly called a “British Colombia” Check, and it means that trail goes north, unless you’re hashing above 50 degrees latitude in which case trail goes south. Another exception occurs if you’re hashing in British Colombia itself, where “BC” means “boob check.” You’re supposed to wait at the BC until the first harriette shows up, at which point you say to her, “Show me your hooters, eh?” The harriette will then cheerfully tell you where to go.

On On,
Doctor Down-Down

Dear Doctor Down-Down,

Hey, I’ve got a question about obscure hash symbols, too. What the hell is an “SBC?” I encountered one of those the other night and I’ve been DOT with the pervs in Balboa Park ever since.

On On,
Mr. Spock

Dear Spock,

I can’t believe you haven’t seen a “Scum Bag Check” before. Why, just the other day I was walking down the road, and there were Walking Small and FungusAmungus standing at an intersection. “What’s this?” I asked, “a scum bag check?”

On On,
Doctor Down-Down

Dear Doctor Down-Down,

I want you and your readers to know how much the hash means to me. I was born, pre-natally addicted to crack, into a welfare family in the ghetto. I never knew my father. Mom was out prostituting most of the time, and when she was home she’d burn me with cigarettes while my “uncles” sodomized me. I ran away at 13 and wound up in a traveling circus, where I performed as “Amazo, the Contemptible Goat-Sucking Boy.” They never paid me a dime, and at 16 I ran off again. I was soon captured and sold into slavery to Thai garment manufacturers in San Francisco, where I was forced to silkscreen thousands of Gypsies in the Palace Hash House Harrier logos on bulk shipments of Taiwanese T-shirts. When the INS broke up the sweatshop and set me free, I decided to look up these “Gypsies,” and that’s how I discovered the hash. Until I started hashing I’d never known friendship, caring for others, or love. The hash straightened out my life and gave me direction. God, I love you all! Thank you. Thank you so much.

On On,
Access Denied

Dear AD,

Uh, I sorta hate to be the one to tell you this, but the Gypsies don’t want you hanging around anymore. . . .

On On,
Doctor Down-Down

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