Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude
Where Great Intelligence Goes To Be Insulted

Tuesday, 7 July 2020

NETFLIX Shitlibfic: The Warrior Nun

No doubt the ignernt tards - unschooled in the arts n' literature as I am - are wondering what Shitlibfic is. Allow me to fill your minds with enlightenMINT.

Shitlibfic is new fiction genre that I created and stars queers, joggers, degenerates, wahmen, and miscellaneous other perverts and cretins found on the left side of the culture war. The villains are invariably fat old white guys like WL Emery, M, and Yours Truly. Usually such books and movies are insufferable social justice morality plays. The books can be used in the outhouse in a pinch, or to start the campfire. The movies make you want to wash your eyes out with bleach. Unlike that usual crap - Shitlibfic is actually entertaining in spite of itself.

Behold: The new age bogeyman.

That’s not from the show on Netflix; that’s me
at a gay pride parade a couple years ago.

The Warrior Nun is about a warrior-priestess sect of the Catholic Church. They fight CG demons and hobgoblins n chit. The gals of the sect come in all the frooty colours of the rainbow with the main sidekick being a vibrant jogger. It actually started off okay and looked like it might have a story to tell. Some of the girls were purdy but the real entertainment was watching them in the fight scenes. HAR HAR HAR!!! Shitlibs are clueless about guns, combat, and fighting and this is the real entertainment. Watch the girls throw a punch. Watch them move in the fight scenes. I am not a trained fighter or a Ranger or a SEAL... but I know what a fight looks like. One of the vibrant gals was built like a tall thin sparrow that made me laugh because she was so obviously a klutz.

The story revolves around the wahmen. Any men serve as props or punching bags. I give it 2 out of five Filthie Thumbs Up! I would give it three but I want to see more politically correct social justice warriors get killed first...!


Gawd, I need either a job or more chores! HAR HAR HAR!!!

You in front - show us ya tiddies!!!

The rest a ya’s... hit the road!


Paddles are optional.  😊😊😊

I love the metaphor of streams parting and rejoining further on. When I was a little boy, I believed that all the brooks and streams went somewhere, joined others to form mighty rivers in lands far away. When I grew up a bit I learned - to my bitter disappointment - that they often ended up in a slough in some farmer’s field. Later on I made my peace with the sloughs... they made for excellent waterfowl hunting.

The middle of the river is where the action is. That’s where the fish are feeding, The water is at its deepest and fastest...and rest and tranquility is found in the pools and bends. I used to think I could navigate life’s river, but I was just so much detritus pushed by currents I couldn’t resist. I learned that I didn’t care for the white water, and chose the slower flows when I could.

The Norse thought that the tree was the metaphor for life... but I think the river is a better likeness. Where does this one start? Where does it end? I feel like that little boy I was, in rubber boots Watching the light play in the depths and ripples.

Even the smallest rivers and creeks have ample
room for plans, souls and imaginations.

Calm waters to you - and have a great Tuesday!

Urban Art - A Self Portrait

Given the clientele of Starbucks.... I dunno if
that’s a good place to
drop yer drawers... if ya catch my drift...

Tuesday Hoopleheads

Somebody’s Had To Much To Drink....

Froots N’ Firearms

When I was a kid some of the other fellas “weren’t right.” They did stupid shit for no reason and their parents ripped their hair out trying to figure them out. It raised questions with us other kids too. All my friends were firebugs and pyros when I was a kid. Johnny and George actually got busted by cops for starting a dumpster fire behind the school. Their parents were horrified when the cops brought their little juvies home. Why would ya do it, and how could you be so dumb as to get caught? We all nearly got blowed up real good when Brent made a rather unexpectedly competent pipe bomb. We buried our recreational IED in the long jump sand pits down at the school yard and lit the fuse... and sent about 3 cubic yards of dirt into the air. That scared us all straight for the rest of our lives and we never dabbled in hobby explosives or pyrotechnics ever again. It seems to be a pattern with some boys, maybe? They do incredibly stupid, nasty, dangerous and antisocial stuff... and then correct and behave themselves as if it had never happened.

But now...I’m in my mid 50’s... and sometimes I still hear my inner juvie calling me. I would love to go down to the junkyard with one of these. I’d laugh like a demented cretin as I blew up piles of garbage and junked cars....

Don’t judge me! 🤬

Monday, 6 July 2020

Rockin’ The Garden Shed

I don’t get it.

I don’t handle heat well and have darn near stroked out mowing the lawn in +25C. Today it was +30C... and I had done my laps with time to spare. Maybe I’m acclimatizing finally?  I gotta say though... a tall glass of cold water, on a lawn chair inside my garden shed is a perfect break. As I get older I get stupider and simpler and it doesn’t take much to make me happy.

Justin Johnson is a regular guest here on the Thunderbox and over at the garden shed. I have him on iTunes and I turn on the stereo on Big Red, set back on my lawn chair throne ... and the world can go straight to hell with my compliments! HAR HAR HAR!

Here he is with his signature “shoveltar”.

A singing shovel? Does
life get any better?