MASHOUT  2021

The Drunken Variant


[This was the first MASHOUT in two years, as there was no event in 2020 due to Covid. Lingering Covid concerns caused attendance to drop to about 70 this year, and commercial donations were fewer than usual because we did not solicit a lot of breweries due to Covid's effect on businesses. Nevertheless, we had just as much fun as always and Keg Row still had 30 kegs. A big thanks to Keith and Kara for taking the reins and making this event happen.]


Thursday August 19. When I arrived around 1:00 there were several CRABSters setting up. More would arrive later but neither Fagner nor Shithouse would make it so MASHOUT was a little less gay this year. They did supply kegs from their respective breweries, BC Brewery and Manor Hill Brewing, so we have to give them credit for that. Also, Judy and Rob donated cans from Checkerspot Brewing. We spent the better part of the afternoon under the pavilion at Keg Row.

View from the parking area.
Handsome Rob's lovely toenails.


There were some creative beer names and decorations.

There was also a refrigerated truck with 10 taps from a local brewery called Dig Deep Brewing. It was a Miller Lite truck so naturally someone fucked with it.

For dinner we had Reuben sandwiches courtesy of Jeff, Grover's rectum-wrecking chorizo, and my orzo which was about as well-received as herpes until folks discovered that mixing it with Grover's concoction made it less anally violating.

Some of us visited a few of the other campsites.

At night we all gathered under the pavilion. DJ Mike provided music so there was dancing and disgusting sweaty partial nudity.


Friday August 20. It rained overnight. The morning was cloudy and misty and still warm from the humidity. I drove to nearby Rocky Gap State Park before 7:00 for a shave and a shower. A bit later we had a hearty breakfast of various meats, eggs, spuds, and coffee.

Then we did what we do best: nothing. We sat around digesting what we had just eaten, and drank at Keg Circle.

Since the oil for Deep Fry-Day wouldn't arrive until mid-afternoon, we did Sour Hour first. There was lots of food to accompany the beer: cheeses, chips, meats, crackers, fruit, and nuts, because we just hadn't eaten enough. Dozens of folks shared dozens of beers, while the homos (Grover) drank seltzer and their own urine.

Kara took a nice video.


Mark arrived with the oil and we had Deep Fry-Day. Among the fried objects were Dutch donuts ("with raisins n' shit"), onion rings, apples, rice cakes, cauliflower, jalapeños, chicken, and pears. Then we digested all that health food as the sun set.

By 9:00 people were cooking more food because the 10,000 calories each of had already eaten that day just couldn't sustain us. Shockingly, I passed out for a while, but this time I was not alone as at least three other schmoes would do the same before the night was over.

After waking up I joined everyone under the pavilion for beer, music, dancing, poker, and respectful conversation ("Fuck you, Cunty McFartfucker").

After midnight we returned to Camp CRABS, and around 1:00 Handsome Rob made brats because it had been so long since we'd eaten.


Saturday August 21. Another humid night gave way to another humid morning. I woke up before dawn and took my usual two MASHOUT morning dumps. It was quiet except for the sounds of wind breakage from various tents caused by the previous day's gastronomic excess. After sunup we all ate breakfast and hung out at Camp CRABS.

Some of us went to the pavilion to drink at Keg Row and dance to music from DJ Mike.

The weather was warm and sunny. Around 2:00 we had Jay's smashburgers and Joel's oxtail tacos for lunch.

We spent the rest of the afternoon engaged in the highly productive activity of sitting around, drinking, and displaying all the maturity of a middle school farting contest.

The Poker Guys.
The adjacent creek.

Around 6ish we had a big dinner of Indian food and other stuff because God forbid we should go more than 4 hours without eating.

Jeff was lucky we woke him for dinner instead of sodomizing him as usual.

After that we had the worst big beer tasting ever. There were about 10 beers for 20+ people. Even worse was the fact that two of the beers were mine. The tasting was so sad that I didn't even bother to take photos. We hot-footed it out of there to have one last night of drunken debauchery under the pavilion. I vaguely remember ending up at Camp CRABS in the wee hours, then Grover escorting me to my tent with a bottle of Wesson oil and a shit-eating grin.


Sunday August 22. Another wet morning (and not in a good way). I was up before dawn as usual and took 4 dumps, which left me feeling like I'd been violated by Roto Rooter. We packed and left, leaving nothing behind except footprints and rectal blood.


Some memorable quotes from the weekend: