Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

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

Wednesday, 7 March 2018

When We Were Kings: Cooking With Gas

Remember Coleman lanterns? Gawd, life was good then. I don't know how many nights I spent by the campfire sipping a beverage, while the Coleman hissed and farted, hung up in a nearby tree and kept the light on the campsite.

In the morning the Coleman camp stove came out. Ya fired it up and had to stand back because it was like setting off a flame thrower - gouts of flame would leap off the burners and it would run like that until the fuel atomized and flowed properly through the burner. 5 star chefs and burpenslurpers alike could work miracles on a Coleman camp stove.

I wouldn't hunt with an AR myself. Were I to head afield today, it would probably be with an antique sporting gun - I would look good with a classic Winchester in 50-90. I know exactly how that hunt would go too: I would load it up, lean it against the truck, finish up the breakfast dishes - and then flop out in a chair with my rifle, a drink and a cigar - in the middle of the foothills with not a care in the world. In my fantasy world, the kids would be back around mid-morning with an animal for me to dress out, and a story to go with it.

Maybe in the next life, God willing.

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