I should do that: put on women's yoga pants, and treat my two remaining
readers to a pic of my plumber's cleavage!
I dunno why that is: ya go down 97 St. where all the hoes and skanks hang out, plying their trade in the garb of the adultress and prostitute - and it leaves an honest man feeling dirty. But then ya see the toned joggers out there and the hotties in their summer clothes... and your feelings about being a dirty old pervert are entirely justified.
As a kid I held gardening in contempt as a hobby, right up there with bird watching. I mean - get a life, right? The garden was a woman's thing in my household and they got right pissy about it too. Mom and Grandma almost came to blows in Mom's garden. They both thought they knew everything, they both had their own way of doing things and they both had to be in charge. (never mind that the damned thing was over an acre in size and there was plenty of room for them both to do their own thing). No way was I getting in the middle of that. My father in law was a gardner and coincidentally the world's biggest asshole. He grew disgusting vegetables and made disgusting food out of them and got offended when I refused to eat it. If his own kids wouldn't eat the shit he made that was alright - but if I turned my nose up at it as well... well! The bloody nerve!
As a young old fart now, I have come to reconsider the error of my ways. (I seem to be doing a lot of that lately...). I could get into gardening but only if a bunch of conditions were met: I would want to have the time to do it right. I've seen so many people start them with the best of intentions and then they end up choked with weeds. I would want a proper potting shed and green house, and I would want a tiller and any other useful gadgets. I would want to go in whole hog - or not at all. Maybe it'll be something I try in the next life. :)
If I win a million, I am going to quit my job and become a Picker. I know I shouldn't boast, but I make a handsome living at it just going part time - I stop by Jack's on a regular basis and pick the empty liquor bottles out of his trash and take them in for the refund - after I've guzzled the last few drops out of the bottle, of course. Sometimes I luck out and find half-smoked stogies, old pizzas and other treats too! There is so such thing as a free lunch! HAR HAR HAR!
While rummaging through CW's trash, I came up with this one:
There is something amusing about the world's fastest
Remember when Russia was hosting the winter Olympics in 2014? The hags and harridans of a group called Pussy Riot showed up to protest something or other, and they were starting to annoy Vladimir - who was trying to put on a shindig for the world. All he had to do was tell his chief of police to 'take care of it'.
The cops showed up and politely asked the ladies to disperse. They shrieked and waved placards and signs in response. Then, they were formally ordered to disperse. MORE shrieking, screaming and slogans. Welp, the boys just shrugged - and waded into them, bitch slapping, back handing, cuffing and slapping the hags off the street. When they came back, they got bitch slapped, kicked and cuffed into a paddy wagon and were unceremoniously taken into custody, pretty much to the merriment and derisive laughter of the world. They tried to make a big deal about freedom of speech and their incarceration but nobody was all that impressed. That's something we've forgotten in North America - you have the right to free speech and to assemble - but you do not have the right to infringe on the rights of others or be a public nuisance. People went to the Olympics to see a sporting event, not angry rage heads.
I heard somewhere that there is a movement now to ban cheerleaders at football games and pit foxes at racing events. Apparently the sight of pretty young women is offensive to the old cat ladies, the fatties and ugly lesbians - most of whom don't go to such events anyways.
I think we could learn a thing or two from Vlad. So far, being nice to nasty women has only made them worse.
Errrrr.... sorry about the view, everyone! What in hell am I thinking, starting off a Monday with howling uglies like that? HAR HAR HAR! Have a great Monday!!!
I guess this guy will learn ya everything ya need to know about recreational generators. I have never heard of some of the brands and this guy may know more about generators than I ever will - but I have never been let down by a Honda. Mine is the 2000W or whatever their smallest gen is - and it ran like a champ last summer. All my motorcycles used to be Hondas and I loved them all dearly.
I started to break away from Honda about 10 years ago. When I bought Ol' Yeller (my much loved ATV) I almost developed a split personality: I am brand loyal and Honda had some really neat stuff coming out - but the gear heads were singing the praises of the radical new Bombardier Outlander quads with their BMW made high output engines. I ran that thing for ten years without a hitch. Buddies that bought Hondas had some issues. But who knows - I don't pamper my gear, and I use it hard if I have to - but I always do my maintenance like clockwork. I probably would have done perfectly well with a Honda there too.
My last motorcycle was a big Suzuki 1500cc stratobagger and I had some electrical issues with it. My current ride is a 1700cc Kawasaki Winnebego and so far, after four years, I put new tires on it and gas in it - and it just runs. Gets a tune up every year and a service at the garage so the boys can do the once-over - and then back out on the road she goes.
I suppose they're all good (or bad, depending on how ya look at such things) - but sometimes I still like to stick with Honda when I can.
I spend too much time with the wrong crowd. You know the type - the guys that see things - obvious things... and then ask the wrong questions. The guys that won't shut up when they get stupid explanations for the stupid stuff they're seeing.
Ours is a time of lots of endings, it seems. Marriages and families end every day. Mainstream Christianity is over, as is the age of reason. Classical science is over. A discussion with a feminist, or an environmentalist or a Marxist will explain that. Yesterday out on the road I was on Big Red and fell in behind a young lady driving an econo-shitbox with the usual liberal bumper stickers on it. "Powered by Bitchdust". "Strong Is The New Sexy". I just smirked sadly and figured the age of women is over too. There are those that think the white race is over and they have a lot of ammo for their argument. Shitty white liberal women are leading their lemmings over that cliff, and I suppose I am indeed 'on the wrong side of history' in the making. Wasn't president Obutthole that said that?
What errant stupidity: To prove we aren't racists and haters, we are
flooding our countries with ignorant, violent, hateful racists.
What black baboons like Barak Obama and his simian race whores don't understand is that if Whitey disappears into history's rearview mirror... the black man goes back to the jungle, or he goes back to his historical roots as a slave, a savage, a servant or a criminal. The unfortunate reality is that those will be the lucky ones.
The average black IQ is 85. Years ago the military conducted their own studies and found out the lowest IQ for acceptable recruits was 83. Any dumber than that - and they couldn't follow simple instructions and supervising them would become a tactical liability. This is all a matter of public record; extrapolated, it means that 40% of blacks are too stupid to hold even menial jobs. How will they fare in world without foreign aid, welfare, and charity? Hell, their own black tribes will probably murder them.
It's easy to strike the pose of the dissident free thinker and contrarian in all this. There are guys that can do that better than I can, but my question now is... now that most of us see what's going on, and know what the end game is... what do we do about it?
When I was a younger man, this time of year meant getting the quad out and going mud boggin' in the back country. We'd go out and see if we could keep the muskeg from eating our ATV's. Back in those days, the biggest machines were 500's, and mine was the new Bomb Outlander with a high output 400 engine - a respectable machine in its day. Today of course, they come right from the factory with snorkels, 1000cc engines, lift kits and all the farkles.
Then one day I got old and found out I had better things to do than be eaten by bugs, trying to chain up on the chronic idiots that intentionally buried themselves in the mire, and either freezing or baking while I did all that.
But occasionally... once in awhile... I feel the need for cool, delicious Alberta mud on my skin.
This pretty young lady is initiated into the mud sports
This is what liberals want for us Canadians. "We'll take care of your health care, we'll take care of your children, we'll take care of your safety..." After years of seeing socialists take care of their people, I have come to the conclusion that if you let socialists take care of you - you deserve everything you get.
But I don't deserve what they have coming to them and neither does Alfie Evans. I don't understand what the hang up is: if the Brit doctors are done and Alfie's on his own, why not let the parents try their luck elsewhere? Or, if the gubbimint is so sure of their moral position, why not just show some bloody balls and euthanize the poor little bugger humanely instead of forcing him to die slowly of 'natural causes'? Craven bastards.
Stuff like this is why I hate liberals and socialists.
And FFS - look at these disgusting a-holes.
That's why citizens need high capacity magazines.
They are a chit stain on law enforcement.
A real cop would have handed in his badge rather than
take a place on that line.
One is tempted to pray for Alfie and that is all well and good. But good lord - we seriously need to pray for ourselves too. A police detachment? To enforce the execution of a baby? May God rot their souls.
Errr...sorry for the rant. For a more civilized discussion of this issue, head on over to Borepatch's, and pass along my regards.
Goddammitalltohell. I can't run an empire like this. We're all outta Joos and Christians to feed to the lions. I sent Jack, Pete and Quartermain to Africa to get some alligators to fight and die in the arena and they came back with zebras. Those things don't fight! All they do is sit around and eat and shit. The blog ratings are diving and I have no monsters for our bloodsport!
Hmmmmm. Perhaps I need to expand the victim class...? Maybe instead a Joos and Christians, I can feed queers, negroes, feminists, fwenchmen and other liberal turdies to my vicious predators? The idea just might have merit: the empire's social spending would go down and thin the parasites out a bit, my monsters would be kept fed, and we nobles would get our violence and blood! I'm gonna need to think on this some more.
In the meantime - watch, and recoil in horror as my starving lions fight to feed on each other! The horror! The savage beast! I ask you yet again: are you not entertained..?!?!?
I don't think most kids need the belt. When I grew up Pop would manually adjust our attitudes with a wooden spoon and everything was cool after that. The strap was an option if we chose to escalate our difference of opinion. If we survived that, Pop had a stock whip. There were no doubts about whether he would use them or not if he felt the need. Pop was not abusive but he didn't take shit off his kids and that is to my benefit. Raised as kids are now - I'd probably be in jail!
Crime and punishment was never a relationship I could get across to my daughter. I was told groundings and time-outs would correct her behaviour but as a kid - if you put her in a room full of books and crayons and paper - she could do years in her room standing on her head. I was like that too as a youngster. I took the wooden spoon to her twice as a child and both times I was told I was an abusive father. I look at that little twerp now, and realize I was a softy and let the outlaws coddle her and spoil her. She never grew up as result - like so many of these millennial snowflakes these days.
For you younger folks - trust me on this: you spare the rod and spoil the child... at some point in life you will both regret it.
Jeez - life's a funny thing. I look at where I've been, and where I am now... and wonder how in the hell I got here. I go to church from time to time. I don't drink much anymore. The pizza and wings last night are leaving me seriously motivated to start a diet - I can't eat this shit anymore! Groan! My guts and asshole are on fire. But other than this self inflicted torture, things are alright.
Financially I have gone into 'prepper mode'. I don't spend money the way I used to. If I can I want to live on my wife's income and bank mine for our retirement. I was buying silver before and now I think I am going to buy some gold as well. I'm watching the world going nuts out there; I go to the bank and it's all 3rd world vibrants running my branch now ... and outside of my family and church I don't trust anyone anymore. I will have stocks of gold, silver, brass and lead and if the time comes - all will be used with extreme prejudice, HAR HAR HAR!
Spring is setting in for sure round here now. Most of the snow is gone and the ice left on the lakes is more slush than ice. It'll be gone in a couple days and the bugs will come out. The geese n' ducks are back and I don't wear long johns on Dawg Patrol anymore. Macey The Monster is getting old too... I've shortened our walks for her because the long ones just tire her out too much. Mort doesn't care one way or the other as long as he can get out to pee on everything and make a nuisance of himself. The Dawgs are shedding as they always do in spring, and the floor is always covered in muddy paw prints and there's hair everywhere no matter how much we clean.
Last night I pulled Big Red out of the shed. As usual, he fired up on the first press of the starter button and rumbled to life like a champ. The last time I even looked at the bike was 6 months ago when I put it away. I went for a ride in the country with Flapz and M.
Get off my lawn you little shits!!!
I laugh at those two. Middle aged old farts? With piped Harleys? I dunno how they stand the racket or why. We were out in the beautiful backroad countryside - and those two goddamned rattle traps just shattered any serenity there might have been. But they love their bikes. M is a new rider, and she rides like a boss too. Flapz rode up front with his ape-hangered abortion, M rode in the middle and I brought up the rear on Big Red. I rode back far enough so that I didn't have to listen to the pipes and could hear my elevator music on the stereo! :) We stopped to visit Flapz' sister - she and her husband just bought a 3,000 ft. palace on three acres of heaven out in the country. If the world is indeed a rat race, these folks are winning it with their heavy metal and country estates. Some people see stuff like this and think of the trappings of wealth and status. All I see is debt... but that is the curmudgeon in me talking, I guess.
During the winter I was promising myself a spring road trip on the bike to go up north. Half way between Aaaadmontin and Fort MacMuck is a farm with an oil patch monument of sorts that I have dubbed "Filthie's Fencerow". Every fence post for about a half mile along the property has a hard hat nailed on it. Guys who left or retired from the beshitted tar sands and the roughneck culture left their lids on those fence posts. Perhaps it was a way of saying "I was here..." as they were on their way out. Faced with the prospect now... I actually want to keep my hard hat for some reason - I dunno why. It just sits in a box downstairs with my millions of business cards, and junk from my old job. I'm conflicted - I was happy to put my old employers in the rear view mirror ... but putting my lid up on that fencerow may be a milestone I am not quite ready to pass for some reason. Perhaps that is the senile curmudgeon in me at work! HAR!
So it's 3:30am and I am sitting here on a warm spring night, riding out a major case of heartburn, inflamed bung, indigestion, raging chronic back pain and insomnia ... but I'm doing alright. I am at a crossroads in life and I have options at this point and I thank my Maker for them. All I gotta do is decide how to make the best of them and things'll look after themselves, I guess. If I can make it down for a nap tonight, I'll wake up, take my dawgs out, and keep chugging with the weekend.
As usual, thanks for stopping by, and have yaselves a great weekend. Cheers.
I know EXACTLY where he's coming from. Good lord, when I look back at how much of my life I spent in the bottle - I just shake my head. For me, it was a coping mechanism for dealing with the lunatics in my family. It was so much easier to just go and crack a beer and forget about the lunatics running around and setting fires.
Sometimes I would head into the back country and just sit around the campfire and drink. I told myself I was living like a king - and indeed I was... but those loons were doing what they were doing and the kingly living always gave way to a hangover - plus whatever the loons had brewing for me.
A couple years back I finally broke down and dealt with the loons. One by one I removed them from my life - but I still kept drinking heavier than I should have. It was force of habit, I think. Last year, for some unknown reason though - I pretty much stopped. It had nothing to do with church, or nagging from the wife (she would never do that), or doctors. One day I just woke up and realized I didn't need a drink anymore.
I still drink - I got pished last week - on three drinks! GAH! It's just as well, I have no tolerance for it anymore. I dunno if it's maturity, old age or senility, but my life's old millstones just seem to be getting lighter as I age. The hell of that is - the few that I have still seem to weigh more than they should!
Clearly I need some deep psychiatric counselling from a professional. I shall call up Jack and make an appointment soon.
I've been lolling in the doldrums of late. I need to blow some dust off the ol' brain box but can't figure out what to do that will wake me up. All I feel these days is sluggish lethargy. Maybe some more sun and longer days will put the blues on the run.
Last weekend I forced myself to rebuild my smallest Crapcopter to date.
It's a Crispy Mini Crapcopter!
I built that big one behind it 4 years ago. This is how fast the technology is moving: back then I had a team of kids helping me build that big POS. It took me two weeks to get it to even talk to the computer in order to configure it. I had to load buggy bootloading programs, device drivers and none of it would have been a big deal to a computer engineer. But the kids in Europe talked me through it. The ESC's were huge and used bullet connectors. Today they're about the size of your thumbnail. Everything is soldered now - no connectors. The flight controllers are orders of magnitude more functional than the crappy kk2's I originally ran. The boards come pre-flashed, with the PID's already tuned - right out of the box. You can literally build one in a couple hours and fly. Nobody flies those big honkers anymore, the deal now is to make them small, fast, and stetch their ranges out. It's crazy.
The Crispy Mini flew like a champ yesterday so I am going to go out tonight and test my luck again.
Wish me luck.
Hope y'all had a great Hump Day. Two more days until the weekend....
I can't see our intrepid explorer getting gobbled up
on a lonely country road like that.
The temps were in the double digits today and we finally have some real spring. The ice is slowly coming off the lakes and should be gone this week or next. I am curiously indifferent to getting the bike out this year, but I do have a few road trips planned. No leaves or bugs yet... but they are coming I'm sure.
I paid a $1.44/litre. The make the stuff in quantities suitable for world export just 200 miles north of here. They refine it in the same quantities 4 miles from my house.
Ladies, the game is just about over, here.
It's time to admit that some of you should be in the bloody kitchen,
because you have no friggin clue about how the real world works.
Totally unrelated to any of this: I overheard one of the young ladies at work, pleased as punch that she was able to sell her house. Her husband, and electrician - had gotten laid off and hasn't been able to find work and they couldn't afford the bills. They were happy about it!
The next time some millennial idiot starts complaining about living in the basement, or devastated job markets, it might be prudent for them to look at their voting habits.
I will criticize liberals then - you assholes voted for this shit, and now you're reaping the whirlwind. Hopefully all the victims are liberals and vibrants, is all I gotta say. And - being Tranna in Morontario ... that is probably a good bet.
Via Kate at SDA. Deb is asking if the perp is a fig farming goat feltching moslem. The 4Chan guys promptly punked and trolled the media so now their idiocy is right out there in public. The sad fact is that if this is a typical case of the moslem violence brought about by a low IQ and an inability to function in a civilized society...the media will never admit it.
History lesson: All our moronic gun laws came about decades ago when Marc Lepine went into a university Wymin's Studies and shot up a butt load of creepy feminists. The liberals flipped when their sacred cows got shot, and they all gobbled in fright and blamed guns, toxic masculinity, and possibly global warming. Decades later we learned that Marc Lepine wasn't a white fwench male- he was the mystery meat by-product of a mother who was a French whore, and a father who was a moslem asshole. Of course, nothing in his ancestry could have anything to do with the mass murder, so the authorities and media didn't see fit to mention it. That's all I better say about it because I could get myself in trouble by saying more.
I've never been much into back up guns. Fact is that if we had licensed carry of firearms up here in Canukistan, I'd carry a cap n' ball percussion gun. There is no reason, to my mind, that nostalgia, practicality, and self defense can't go hand in hand. I'd pass on the brass knuckles too. Those are for filthy Irish thugs and beneath contempt for a discerning gun snob such as myself.
JFC. I 'ave a snoot full a scotch, guv. A'hm pished to the gills, an' Ah huvn't the patience fer this kinda chit...
Jackey boyo - roll out the cannons! Stoke em with grape, chains, and canister! ASM! Climb up into the rigging and keep a sharp eye! Bring the culverns, demifalcons and and demi-culverns to bear! Quartermain - keep that Cutlass loose in it's scabbard! We'll take these villains broadside!!! Something stupid this way comes! Jess! Sunny! The Supervisor and Aggie! Form up on me! The foe awaits! For the Glory Of The Crown!!!
GAH! I have to go to church tomorrow. I'd love to stay here and fight with the rest of you - but duty calls. Hope you had a great Saturday, and that Sunday is twice as good. Take care, y'all.
When I was a wee gaffer one of my favourite cartoons was the pink panther. I used to delight in the way the cat constantly tormented the short fat guy with the big nose. And of course, I loved the music that Henry Mancini donated to the cartoon for us kids. It's as cool and laid back today as it was 50 years ago.
Fast forward through those 50 years... and now I am the short fat guy with the big nose. And the hapless little white dawg closely resembles Mort The Schnort! If you have six minutes and nothing better to do with your life - come on in, pour yourself a drink, and enjoy the fire and the company of the pink cat- whilst I beat the living tar out of Mort!
It's been an odd week around here at Castello Di La Filthie. I am coming to terms with a new job where I work with and for kids half my age - but they show levels of maturity and common sense that I haven't seen for ten fuggin years while I worked for my old company. If these kids are the kind of people they appear to be - this job should do - for awhile, at least. Employment is unstable and volatile in Alberta right now and, judging from the idiots we have running the nation and province, it's gonna stay that way for awhile. That's gubbimint though - there is a blurred line between stupidity and villainy when they are at work.
On the innernet, a perusal of The Usual Suspects evokes images of darkling shadows that portend more uncertainty and changes ahead. To me it feels like there are pawns being moved about a cosmic chess board and I can only see a few of the pieces in play. Turdiebeach over at The Fourtyfive notices that he doesn't fit into the scheme of things anymore. Over at the Z Blog, the host and sole proprietor asks the question that very few have the courage to ask - why are the women going nuts? A fella can get shot and pissed on just for asking questions like that in the wrong places these days. You can go and poop in the comment sections of those ones as I did - feel free to do so here too, if you're so inclined. In both cases, one has to consider these posts and ask, "Is it stupidity or villainy driving stuff like this? Or both?" Disengaged men. Lunatic women. I don't like where this is going, myself.
The women in my family have all gone off the deep end: my daughter is a militant queer social justice warrior. My mother in law was a loud, domineering woman that literally bossed herself right out of her own family. My mother is a champagne socialist, or a limousine liberal - she got a soft, cushy gubbimint job with early retirement with full bennies and pension and figures the world owes it all to her and more... and she gets it because she's better than everyone else. All these women in my family love head games ... and as I get older - I just don't have time for their shit anymore. I seriously thank God Almighty for sparing my wife this cursed lunacy - and myself.
It's horrible, in a way. My daughter is a distant memory now, I can't even summon tears for her now. I am on Mom's chit list and she isn't talking to me at the moment - I think I violated the rules of some geriatric head game she is playing - and I don't care about that either! As for my mother in law - no way do I want her and her idiot husband back into my life. Is all this stupidity or villainy on my part? I dunno, I see the consequences of the self induced lunacy these women brought upon themselves, and it's like a train wreck - I can't save them and I can't watch anymore. I need to be in a happier place. If they need me they can call me. Or not. They have their own life stories to write, and my chapter in their lives is over.
This weekend at The Castle we are bachelors. The wife is off at some women's conference the church put on in BC. I think the old hens are just gonna sit around slurping coffee, gobbling pastries and chattering like birds, HAR HAR HAR! And - while The Boss is away on a well earned mini-vacation, we are going to whoop it up here today too! We'll start with eggs - yes, my dawgs will be dining with me this morning, eggs for them too! Then - long range dawg patrols, maybe a few chores and errands. I have some leather work for King Peter (he and Mary want to do coffee but I have to meet with Flapz because who knows what that idiot is up to these days), and I have a micro-Crapcopter that I have been trying to get working all winter. And somehow I gotta get some range time in around all that! There's gonna be all kinda stupidity and villainy going on round here this weekend too.
Somehow my wife and I avoided the lunacy afflicting so many
these days. Actually for awhile there, the women in my family were making ME crazy too.
Our "five days in May" turned out to be 33 years and counting.
I guess that these are my anchors now. The wife, the dawgs, the kids at work -
this is why my Maker put me here, this is my mission.
I choose to accept the assignment and get in the game.
Hmmmm... is this what 'contentment' is?
GAH. It's 4:30 in the morning, and Mort just shit himself downstairs. Dawgs don't ordinarily fart like that, so I better get up and throw him outside and start my day.
My wife and I have never really been extravagant people. We simply don't have the money. Or maybe we did, but my frugal Scottish nature won't permit me to enjoy experiences like this. I don't much care for travel, crowds, and tourist traps. I'd always be thinking about how much money I wasted. My wife, on the other hand? Looking back now (When it's too late) - I think she would very much have liked something like this, light years ago when wet suits might still have been an option.
I wasn't always like this. My wife and I got married way too young and had a 'shotgun marriage' and we had to grow up a little harder and faster than most kids our age. Mind you, that gave us the budgetary habits and practicality of a depression era couple. We aren't rich - but unlike many of our more lavish peers - we're free. I know we made the right decisions - or the best ones we could make - with our lives, but sometimes that little voice whispers in your ear. "What if we had done this instead of that...?"
Hope y'all had a good Friday! And thanks for stopping by!
Dammit and blast! Something strange is going on with the Chinamen - and I don't like the looks of it one little bit! Those little yella bastids can't be trusted! Better bring in the CIA, UFA, the UGG, and maybe the Canadian secret service - do we have one a those?
Obviously this is a coded transmission of some sort.
We'll need experts in poultry and bucket heads to get to the bottom of this one.
Scuttlebutt has it that this is the lumber mill out at Whitecourt... if I recall, it's Millar Western. The story goes that one of our gunnies was up on that thing before it went, and it all came down on his welding truck. Preliminary reports say our boy has 30 stitches but he's fine. Apparently it was a "Friday The 13th" thing. OH&S is gonna have a fuggin bird!!!
Yesterday the Blog-O-Meter red lined. Either I am getting hacked by the Russians again, or the FBI, CIA, DHS, RCMP and possibly the UFA found my 'Niggermania' post and have put me on a watchlist! HAR HAR HAR!!!
But sadly, the respectable viewers have fallen off again and it is time for some gratuitous blood and violence to redeem the numbers!
This week my retard gladiators are all down from stupidity-related injuries. We lost all our ferocious tigers when those PETA/femcnuts discovered we were feeding them Christians, and they blew the whistle on the SPCA! All the bears are still hibernating but - we might be able to rustle up some vicious animal savagery to carry us over the boring hump in the week!
Instant death with a ripped jugular!!!
A loss for Tabbycatus!!!
They fight and die for our amusement!
Lookit the poor cats: forced into a short, brutish
life of cat pugilery!
This pug faced victim has obviously had his face
beat in many times!
Sometimes shear exhaustion is
enough to finish the fighters and seal their
Welp - that's five minutes of your life you'll never get back again. As always, thanks for stopping by, and have a great Hump Day.
Actually the ice has been rotten for a couple weeks now. For me ice fishin' ends at the beginning of March, and no later... because that's when cars start going through the ice. I remember once this old boy drove by us on the lake and scared the hell out of us - you could hear the ice booming and cracklng and he said "Shoot - I'll be driving on this ice for another two weeks yet! Still gotta be about 6 inches thick...!"
Now that I think about it though, I haven't heard of any vehicles going through this year. Maybe some sanity finally broke out amongst the Alberta Sportsmen...
When I was on the road one of my most dreaded situations was the inevitable and horrible 'poop n' scoot'. We're fortunate in northern Alberta because there's lots of trees and bush, and our highways can get mighty lonely at times. The only time it ever happened to me was on the way down from Ft. Mac. I won't use the roadside crappers anymore because the natives use them and those animals aren't fit to use public restrooms. I'm not kidding - I stopped to use one once and there was chit on the walls and ceiling. GAH! What kind of demented subhuman nutter does something like that?
Anyways I did my business on the side of the road in seconds flat and was back in the truck, and back up to speed for the dive home.
I guess the I'm doing what the kids call 'shit posting', HAR HAR HAR!
I stopped in to make fun of his pain and kick him when he's down - I find some good sport and humour can sometimes take the edge off pain, although sometimes it can make things much worse! Gotta be really careful with that.
As I get older I get aches and pains and some of 'em are just facts of life, and others ... ya really need to worry about.
The flipside of pain for old geezers is that some of 'em use it to rationalize some pretty chitty behaviour. I can't ever see a man like BW doing something like that, mind you - but I have seen guys acting like a-holes and trying to make everyone else as miserable as they are or guilt trip them.
Maybe that is what I will do, though! HAR HAR HAR!!!
Sorry about that - the fuggin link-thing on blogger is busted again. (No doubt, one of Blooger's pipe-polishing Queerbec fwenchmen is responsible! Flog the lot of those poxy bastids!) Errrr.... sorry about that... Get a load of what he's proposing for the old grilled cheese:
Seriously - go check out Kim's post!
Who woulda thunk you could upscale a simple grilled cheese?
I've been eating the velveeta/kraft variants for years and now I
Boy oh boy - things must have really changed in Old Blightey. My parents were born to English/Scots immigrants and sometimes they made us eat as they had when they were kids. As a kid, I once got PTSD when mom and dad decided they were going to have a favourite meal from their childhood: boiled cabbage, and white navy beans cooked in a pot with a ham bone. JFC - I can still smell it, 50 years later: It was like - the mother of all flu farts that hadn't happened yet. Mixed with cabbage! GAH! Right off the bat I told them I wouldn't eat it.
They told me about starving niglets in Africa. I said I would rather starve than eat this shite too.
They told me I would eat it or get a spanking. I'll take the spanking, I said, 'cause I ain't eatin' that shit.
Can't blame the folks, what with my ropey mouth and all - but I got spanked AND was forced to eat the shit. I still haven't forgiven them for it either, HAR HAR HAR!!!! HAR HAR HAR!!! I am told that that squalid meal was a much loved and seldom enjoyed treat for my parents. The vast majority of their meals were simple and boring. I think that is why they took such delight in this revolting fare - it was a change up from what they usually ate. In their day, they didn't have chocolate bars and candy - a kid was ahead of the game if he got an apple or an orange. I think I hurt my parents' feelings when I was revolted by food that they loved and cherished.
Yesterday I was lolling and shaking off the last of this flu and surfing around the YouTube gunnie vids when I cam across this charming gem:
Are chicken gizzards in yer salad-stuff edible?
This intrepid young man will find out!!!
And no, Ian - Brit rations were not the stuff of
picnics. You'll eat that Woodington pie, and you'll
damned well LIKE it too!!!
There's a series of six of these vids and I watched them all. Our boy starts off telling us that the war/ration diet wasn't all that bad. I think in the course of his weeklong experiment, he probably found out otherwise. For my ancestors, food was not something taken for granted - it was life or death, it was fuel and calories - and that's it! I wonder how long I would go before I ate a plate of boiled cabbage and navy beans? Oh yeccccccht!!!! BARF!!!
I'm gonna make a grill cheese sammich - pardon me, a "toastie" - and I will thank my Maker that I don't have to eat the same stuff my parents and grandparents did.
Presented, gentlemen, for your cogitation, speculation, and reflection:
This, by way of good King Chares at Coopville...
We see a lot of that going on lately, and I dare say many if us have found ourselves in the same boat, after a row with the feral stunned bints in our modern dysfunctional families. While pouring over Uncle Bob's porn stash Uncle Bob's Epistles To The Retards, I came across something, that... deep in my gut, I feel must be somehow related.
Uncle Bob was an expert on women, and sadly passed away before he could learn us all the things he learnt the hard way. Perhaps if we can find a hard copy of the manuscript above... We may yet redeem ourselves as the rightful heads of our households. A Holy Quest lies before you, boys.
The usual suspects are warned in advance that if you come back with 'an answer for the meaning of life' or 'scientific proof for the existence if God' or some other pointless claptrap ... you'll be wearing your underwear on your head and you'll be stuffed into a locker for the weekend! I'm lookin' at YOU, Pete! HAR HAR HAR HAR!!!
Ladies - be good to your men. And have a great weekend!
Today I dragged my ass into work. Morning was hell; I've spent the last two days sweating, freezing and sleeping through a flu. I have to put in some time in the warehouse before I go up front for my office job, so I was back there in my carhartts and steel toes with kids half my age, slinging freight whilst freezing and shaking. The young buck assigned to baby sit me slowed down on my behalf, and I was sincerely grateful because in addition to the pip - I am grossly out of shape. But I hung in there and I stuck it out all goddamn day. The kids called me off the job at quarter to five - they were playing video games in the boardroom. I flopped into a chair, totally bagged and watched the kids duke it out on a video game. If these kids, these adults - are who they look like... I love them already. It reminded me of when I used to play video games with my daughter when she was young and still talked to me. I didn't have any beers, I just stayed with the kids, happy to hear the noise and the banter. Dammit, I got old, somehow. How it happened to me, I dunno - stuff like that happens to slobs like BW and Pete or Jack... but me? Life IS unfair. Some other old men said it should be old men that get sent to war, because they don't fear death and they aren't good for nothin' anyways. It makes me smile to think like that - but breaks my heart to see younger men thinking that way.
I never had any 'glory days' myself.
Maybe these are my glory days?
If we shaved Scotty The Retard he would look more
like Tim than Tim does.
Have a good weekend y'all. I am gonna go lay down and die.
No doubt some pasty faced, spaghetti armed leftist twink
like David Hogg will be horrified by this.
"Look, Dave!!! It's an assault biathalon rifle!!!!"
Ok - I'm up! I'm up! Been down with the damn flu for two days now. Still sweating and clammy but I think I can make it into work without keeling over. I dunno if it is my imagination but these flus just seem to get worse and worse as I get older. I'm going to drag myself to work and have a day, I guess.
Last night I was wallowing in the deepest of flu misery when my wife got in beside me and started reading to me from my little bible that the nice old fart at church gave me. She caressed me as she read, and then she started humming some church hymns that were playing quietly on her ipad. I went from being in a cold/flu hell to a warm peaceful sleep I haven't enjoyed since I was a kid. Today I am snot nosed and clammy - but by the grace of God and my wife, I'm here! HAR HAR HAR!
I am not politically correct. I am not a racist either. (Yes, I know that some people consider sticks and stones and broken bones as racist - but those idiots don't know what the word means). Whenever some coloured idiot or liberal rage head screams about racism, 9 times out of ten they are schlepping for the cameras and 15 seconds of fame, or ginning up hate for Whitey, or looking for cash and prizes in our liberal infested courts.
Years ago I got invited to an actually racist forum called Nigger Mania. It wasn't particularly interesting; I suspect it may even have been an FBI honey pot. That, or there are some seriously angry people getting seriously fed up with blacks. Being a contrarian, I poked around in this forbidden territory but didn't post. They had a mildly productive joke forum that occasionally produced the kind of filthy ethnic humour I like. But most of it was just real hate and eventually I got bored and wandered away.
On a related note, Z has a good one up today about the war for the social media. YouTube has come out against the gunnies - they are even threatening censorship against gun club stubfarts and black powder geeks like yours truly. And of course Fecesbook and Twatter are banning high profile conservatives often on fake pretexts of inciting violence and hatred and racism. Yawn.
I wonder if shabby treatment like that being dished out by the tech giants will actually drive people to sites like Nigger Mania instead? There is going to be some blow back to this, I assure you. I don't tweet or facebook myself - but - screw OyTube if those a-holes think they are going to reprogram me and act against the interests of the shooting sports.
In any event, I found a pic that relates all this gibberish in one image. How, you may ask? How can you get racial, hateful, black, and gun themes wrapped up in one convenient pic? Behold - and have yourselves a great Monday!
If the Nigger Mania forum were still around today, you might
see something like this in the joke forum.
My question to my moral and intellectual superiors is this: is it just
as racist for me to laugh at this pic as it was for these two ladies
to pose for it?
Yannow what? I don't care what those a-holes think! Have a great Monday.