S3H3#94 The Dildo Returns
Friday February 6 March 7:00pm
As International Woman’s Day cums along every good woman needs a Dildo in reserve for emergencies. With this in mind Pig-a-Dildo has returned to Saigon to take up this responsibility. Taking a break from his Dildo duties to Hare the SSS run this Friday.
With an eye on Word events we shall shun the hedonistic areas of Japan Town and Pasteur Street (well at least for the start of the evening) and the Sophisticated Sirs of Saigon will show some support to our Middle Eastern friends, meeting at Al Sahm Restaurant, Saigon.
Be ready for “run”, or if you must a walk, of suitable Dildo length.
A to A trail
A point:
314 Võ Văn Kiệt, Phường Cầu Ông Lãnh, Quận 1, Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh
https://maps.app.goo.gl/v9SAK3bsjkCre5zj9
🏃♂️ Run: Black African Dildo length.
🚶♀️ Walk: Asian Dildo length.
🍺 Beer Stop ✅
📅 Check-In: 7pm
🚀 Departure: 7:30pm
🐰 Hare: Pig-a-Dildo
💰 Hash Cash:
• Circle beers 100K per dude/ one split bill at dinner. Bring cash.
S3H3 #94 – The Dildo Returns (Proper Old-School Hash Trash)
Attendees: Visitor Nub (So Happy Its Tuesday H3 (SH!T H3), Chantilly, Virginia, USA), KKK, Inspector Gobshite, Kinky Jesus, GM (Piss Bath), (Circle-meister) Gobblin King, (Hare) Pig-a-dildo, Shitty Slacker, Dick Pic, Just Brett (visitor from Manchester, UK), Just Keith (Pig-a-dildo’s Uncle, visitor from Manchester, UK), Taste Great, Python In Ya Beaver, Chemically Castrated, 3 Shitty Tits, Cock-A-Leaky, and surprising guest Just Tan.
The evening began, as all elite athletic events do, with serious pre-run training at the bar.
Gobblin’ King and three highly committed athletes had already been hard at work at Bar 5, bravely consuming medicinal fluids to prepare their bodies for the gruelling ordeal ahead: jogging slowly for short distances between beer stops.
Meanwhile the rest of the pack assembled at Al Sham, discussing important tactical matters such as:
- how long before the first beer,
- whether walking counts as running, and
- why anyone still listens to the hare.
Then arrived the evening’s main attraction: Pig-a-dildo, one of the original S3H3 founding fathers, dragging along his innocent uncle Just Keith from Manchester. The poor bastard had no idea he’d soon leave Saigon with a permanent stain on his reputation and a name he’ll never explain to his grandchildren.
Word also spread down the sacred Harriette grapevine that Nub was in town. Naturally, he was immediately kidnapped and forced into the evening’s activities before he could escape.
Eventually Gobblin’ King and his Bar 5 Alcoholic Training Squad staggered into Al Sham looking sufficiently “hydrated”.
The Circle (or organised chaos)
The circle was formed, insults were exchanged, and Pig-a-dildo explained that the trail was marked with the traditional H and arrow system.
Unfortunately, the Hash Gods had pissed rain all over the city earlier, washing away half the markings.
Did that matter?
Of course not.
Half the pack couldn’t follow a marked trail anyway.
Into the Hems
Off we went into the glorious rat-maze of HCMC hems, bouncing through narrow alleys, dark corners, mystery turns, and enough circle checks to confuse a GPS satellite.
Left! Right! Circle check! False trail! Backtrack!
At several points the local Vietnamese residents pointed us in directions.
Some were genuinely helpful.
Others were clearly trying to escort the noisy group of sweaty foreigners out of their neighbourhood before we started a small international incident.
Either way, we kept moving.
Mostly in circles.
The Great Beerstop Disaster
After what felt like an entire Olympic marathon (approximately 600 metres), the pack heroically arrived at the Beerstop.
Closed.
The outrage was immediate.
There were complaints.
There was shouting.
Someone may have briefly questioned the competence of the hare (again).
Fortunately, after enough whining to wake the dead, Granny and Grandad opened the sacred fridge, and beer began flowing like the Mekong in rainy season.
Peace was restored.
Around this time the walking hares appeared, having also spent time wandering around nearby hems looking for an entrance that apparently only exists in Pig-a-dildo’s imagination.
Enter Piss Bath
Just when things seemed normal, GM Piss Bath strolled into the beerstop holding an ice cream and looking pleasantly lubricated.
Without hesitation he grabbed another beer.
Because clearly ice cream is best paired with lager.
Hash logic.
The Final Leg
Eventually the pack resumed the trail, staggering down a road beside the river before finally returning to Al Sham Saigon.
More beers were purchased from a nearby shop, and the sacred Circle of Public Humiliation began.
A Curious Bystander
A Vietnamese passer-by who had lived in Australia for four years recognised the unmistakable chaos of a hash gathering and stopped to investigate.
His name was Tan.
Naturally he was immediately welcomed in the traditional hash manner:
He was given a beer.
He was charged for something.
He was given details for the next run.
Recruitment complete.
KKK New running shoes
KKK got busted, wearing new running shoes and as per tradition, Pig-a-dildo filled up the who with leftover beverages while KKK with the iron stomach barely downed the contents.
Naming the Victim
But the real highlight of the evening was poor Just Keith.
With his dodgy patch collection, questionable taste in entertainment, and a general aura of suspicious enthusiasm, he was clearly asking for trouble.
After several seconds of deep intellectual debate (and several beers), the naming committee reached its decision.
Keith was dragged forward.
Beer was raised.
And he was officially christened:
SILICONE LADYBOY
Congratulations.
The S3H3 is now your Mother Hash.
Your dignity may never recover.
On-On
The evening continued with the On-On festivities at Al Sham, where the beer kept flowing, the lies kept growing, and the legend of Silicone Ladyboy began spreading faster than a rumour in a Manchester pub.
Another successful run.
Another victim named.
And another reminder that in hashing:
The trail may be confusing…
but the beer always finds us.