Wednesday August 12. I wasn't there yet but several folks were, setting things up so the rest of us jackasses could spend the weekend abusing ourselves. Handsome Rob made sure that there was at least one working recliner under the pavilion.

Thursday August 13. When I arrived at noon I got my usual friendly greeting ("Hey, the queer's here!"). I set up my tent and by 1:00 had joined the deviants under the pavilion. Justin had brewed a kveik that was fermenting in the field and would be consumed on Saturday.

At 3:30 upwards of 30 of us visited 1812 Brewery a little over a mile away and got a tour of their new brewery equipment. We were also treated to some Oktoberfest from one of the fermenters. It was delicious because Fagner didn't work there.

After we returned to Camp CRABS (aka CRABS Hill), Boy Chris dozed off, defying Polymarket, which had given 97% odds that I would be the first to pass out.

Some folks vandalized the Reflecting Pool.

Dinner consisted of the usual heart failure-inducing fare, including Justin's chili. As expected, very few folks would touch the shrimp/pasta dish I brought because it was under 72% fat.

Then it was off to the pavilion to attack our livers.

At midnight Hangin' Tough made us pizza, as he had done the previous year.

Friday August 14. Cloudy and humid. I made my usual early morning visit to Rocky Gap Casino Resort for my free shower. On the way to my vehicle I passed Justin's kveik, which was fermenting away.

The Camp CRABS breakfast featured a discussion of several topics, including drugs and various implants. Trevor got excited when someone mentioned penile implants. We also agreed that Pete Kegsbreath was a DUI hire.

Around 10:00 it started to rain. Some of us gathered under the pavilion...

...until Sour Hour kicked off at 1:00. Twila and Elizabeth did their usual great job putting together a nice food spread.

		Zen meditation.

Afterward there was more damage to the Reflecting Pool.

Folks prepped for the meatloaf competition. Or passed out.

Then we stuffed ourselves with meatloaf at the pavilion. Twila's creation won the popular vote. Trevor came in second with a vegan meatloaf. John Jester and John Keough tied for third. Trevor's meatless entry was ironic since no one likes hot meat more than he does.

At 8:00 we did Stout Out / Bring Out Your Dead, led by Justin, as we had done the previous year.

Then we had a fun evening that included live music, Jenga, and liver destruction. Among the musicians was Shirtless Ron, who made his first post-pandemic MASHOUT appearance. Ironically, he kept his shirt on, at the request of everyone who had good vision.

Shortly before midnight we returned to Camp CRABS for another unnecessary 4^th meal.

Saturday August 15. When I returned from my free shower (and my third shit), Camp CRABS was bustling with inactivity. A few people cooked while the rest of us made ourselves as useful as a cock-flavored lollipop at a lesbian convention. In addition to the usual coronary cuisine, Les made potato pancakes, using leftover mashed potatoes. Jay brought out a pork shoulder that he would smoke all day. If you want your meat smoked, he's your man.

	Jay's meat.

Eventually the sun came out. At 11:00 Justin treated us to a vertical tasting of Goose Island Bourbon County Stout (2017-2022, and 2025). Several of us partook because we hate our livers so much. Also, Rob made a Pimm's Cup to ensure that no liver would remain unscathed.

Then I "rested"...

...until the mead/cider tasting, which featured leftover food from Sour Hour.

Afterward a bunch of sweaty people made an algae bloom in the Reflecting Pool.

Apparently there was also a card game in the Reflecting Pool. Handsome Rob took this photo. Hey Rob, why are you the only one in focus?

Then we hung out for a while and Jay removed his meat from the smoker.

I pretended I was Maga Lardo at a meeting in the Oval Office.

As a final assault on our digestive systems we gorged ourselves at the food-beer pairing.

No, that wasn't the end. We returned to Camp CRABS to put Jay's hot salty meat in our mouths.

Then it was back to the pavilion for an evening of rest...

...and live entertainment. We had MASHOUT's first open mic night. There was music, comedy, and tap dancing, all of which went well except for an unfortunate accident while I was farting the Star Spangled Banner.

Many of us returned to Camp CRABS for a final midnight gathering where Hangin' Tough provided pizza and classic tunes, including Detachable Penis.

Sunday August 16. Many folks headed out at daybreak because it was supposed to start raining by then. The forecast was surprisingly accurate, as the rain arrived shortly after 6:00. It had been another great weekend that we would remember with fondness and regret.

Some memorable quotes from the weekend:

• "This beer tastes like keg lube and tuna fish."
• "I want a dirty whore of a beer."
• "Do it harder."
• "Drink it, bitch."
• "You wouldn't like it - it's a very hetero beer."