Fusion power will bring abundant, clean and safe energy. One kilogram of deuterium extracted from water per day could come enough electricity to power hundreds of thousands of homes. Using liquid metal might behave when it contacts the plasma. These “compact tori” and “low-field” approaches offer the possibility of reduced size and cost.
St. BlowJob’s Delectable Cream Pie
December 18, Sunday afternoon. Santorum Cocktail plays guitar to sing Jingle Bells with nearly 30 hashers for celebrating BlowJob’s birthday in a gleeful circle, located at the compounds where BJ lives in and Herr Splashy Pants as his neighbor lives at the first floor and changes his place into the rally point. Also these 3 hashers hare to raise the profile of the push for a hashing on the verge of 269 PM norm of the hashing no-no. 2 big kegs of Jing A brewery beer and 2 cases of Yangjing beer perk up the hashers. New GM Super Squirter hosts the performance. 3 virgins are greeted with the little cocks. 4 hashers like RoadKill, Anything Goes, Danger Zone and Slappy Second are awarded with the blue mugs. SC scores his running patch. Sec Phantom who dresses a Hash T-shirt in 1997 with words, “Phantom’s Last Run” functions as an interim RA paraphrasing a succession of hashers’s anecdote in the trail. Phantom and Ride Taxi Her act part of Song Master. Under the cover of darkness, 20 hashers are too impatient to wait for moving on food at the apartment of BJ. Six Kuai Short, Godzilla Butt and Drill Me come along late. Beyond all doubt, it’s a musical and sumptuous party. BJ, SC, PB and Just Desmond each renders a guitar show. The hashers with hearty appetite gormandize 2 legs of lamb, 1 pot of pork curry, 10 garlic breads, garden salad, tuna pasta salad, 2 red cabbages, 2 kg rice, huge bowl of mashed potatoes, bbq vegie stir fly and mushroom blend. At 9pm, BJ cooks for some again. What a St.BlowJob’s Delectable Cream Pie it is!
The trail cannot escape memory of hashers to be a primrose path, especially for recent series of Hash celebration activities. The entrance of the compounds is regarded as a start point. The cars bustling in and out make the hashers yell out a few times, “make a hole!”. Before cranking up it, when proxy RA Phantom is about to bless 3 hares, a luxury car is coming over pulling into. Phantom has to hold it up for a moment, swing toward these 3 hares to pop round before them with shortest prayer, “God bless you!” , then the hashers spread out to hunt for the wabi-sabi. Some put the mask on the cheek. Crash Test Dummy and Just Cliff dash ahead. Bucketing through the hutong, street, Sanlitun bar street and residential zone. DZ still cannot recognize the arrow of a mark to show a direction. Spending more time on checking a lengthy Oh Shit and crossing the street to hit the first beer stop. A teen husky dog seems to crush on SS by frisking her body in detail. Phantom Menace prefers this dog. After starting to chevy, the noisy Sanlitun downtown claps eyes on the hashers running thru an embassy area and the business-going Agriculture Exhibition. In search for an Open Check mark, ChickenShit has been afar for a pacesetter. DickMocracy presses forward. Out of the southern gate into a slant street, turning right to see a Beer Near mark, but groping over 200 meters to reach the second beer stop at the end of a street. Against all expectations, the owner insists on charging 4 yuan per bottle of Yangjing beer after PB cracks open 6 bottles. Actually it’s overcharged 1 yuan per bottle. It’s not about an amount but a pervasive thinking – as soon as meeting the foreigners, charging more money as far as the locals can. The running hare HSP hastens to find out a supermarket that can offer beer with reasonable price. The walkers and runners half-and-half gather to drink. Many enjoy conversation like Taxi Mum, Sausage Party, Rambo Number Five, Sweet & Furry, Just Bernie, Just Robin, Just Tom, etc. Later on, the hashers go on the trail via a foot bridge, embassy area and Sanitun northern street to loop back to the finish point.
Boxer Hash#155 13 tombs
December 17, Saturday whole day long. There are over 15 mountain-philic hashers defying the smog’s halftime at 250 PM or so, to hash the Ming Dynasty Tombs aka 13 Tombs. As if engaging in archaeological studies of the historical source of intractable SMOG. On circle by replica great wall, Just Mia assumes the pose and is now Hot Cockolate. The Boxer new GM Herr Splashy Pants makes the most of his driving kinetic energy to organize an uncommon Boxer hashing…..
How nice to write up a valediction for the last Full Moon Hash of 2016 it is (written by Agent Orgy) ! Leveling with the truth inside and outside the hashing world in 2016. It’s so much lost. Just as Hemingway said, “life is always so we covered all over with cuts and bruises, but later, the injured area will become the strong place.” December 16, Friday night. FM GM Sweet & Furry explains to 5 virgins with some flour marks on the ground at an empty lot in front of restaurant. Pickle Boy volunteers to mark the first part of trail on the well-illuminated Ghost street being beleaugered by a new round of heavy SMOG. Cutting through a traffic stream of intersection to south and on right into a dim hutong and on left aslant to another hutong to get at the escape road where a small shop obliquely opposite a toilet is sited as the first beer stop. The trail is quite easy because Dry Hole is not here or like before, he did chase up the hare and caught the hare and then debagged the poor hare to be stark-naked. Very soon. Shaven Not Stirred and Lick It To Ride catches up. The next over 10 hashers arrive by turns. Rambo Number Five starts to jog as well. Only 1.5 walkers Six Kuai Short and Charlie totter to show up as the last ones. The beer ginger the hashers. Hash Flash Wandering Tongue lifts her phone with outsize camera light to snap hash photos. PB grumbles his phone and his important gift from Mismanagement at Christmas part – a notebook with his name Pickle Boy all of them were lost on a drunk way to home on bus alone after this party. In fact, never been feeling a safety singlehanded.
LITR runs away for the second hare and continues to farther southern hutongs. Zigzagging through some blocks of alleyways and the second beer stop is hands down ferreted out. Just David a virgin finally spots the hashers via the pin on WeChat. SNS comes forward to hare for the last part of trail. The towering Shanghai Man is equal height with S&F standing on a step. The remaining trail appears trickier and funnier, in particular at an Open Check point that takes more time to check out. Navigating a row of darkish hutongs and when approaching to restaurant, the heathen sweep of hutongs like puzzles are undone. The circle is held at an open space next to restaurant. A white FM flag is hung on the door. The caring FM GM S&F fetches up a thermos of mulled wine made by herself. AO brings in a bottle of Whisky. The hashers binge drinking. FM RA LITR as usual leads the hashers to repeat his prayer. Principal Penetration “accused” dog lovers like SKS and he mimics dog’s delight that amuses the hashers. LITR sings a fresh Hash song for a while from number 1 to number 12 with the hashers. SKS comes up with FM GM’s helmet and pours the beer to FM new GM AO for her inaugural ceremony. She chugs it down. PreLube, Just Mia and virgins beam the smile. Just David this virgin walks in waving his arms to conjure out 2 sticks of glittery magic wands and a bottle of Sake to treat the hashers. It turns out all hashers howl the rare waxing gibbous moon. 8 hashers taste a palatable hotpot and 2 latecomers burst in such as Sink & Destroy and Santorum Cocktail. Whilst Hash dinner ends, a group of screams from another table shock the hashers and the oil-like liquid that is splattered on a girl’s clothing is set fire somehow and the wooden table and chair are burnt up and the flame is jumping up to the low-pitched wooden ceiling. Right then, PB rushes at the fire and snatches up a pot of water to pour on the flame, meanwhile a middle-age woman waitress holds a basin of water to put out the fire, but the 7-8 young local wreckers scamper off like mouses. As a matter of fact, they have chance of nipping fire in the bud, none of them have courage to extinguish fire, though. This is the very world breeding such a bunch of selfish cowards!
December 21, 2016