Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

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

Sunday, 22 July 2018

The Old Fart And The Road

I was in that warm golden cloud of sleep, lost in dreams of happier times, better people and places - when the muffled, discordant sound came. No, I thought. Not now.


No, please, not now. My wife smiled at me the way she did, even as my dream of her started to dissolve. She was dressed in that green dress I loved to see her in, with that elegant thin belt, wearing the ornate necklace that made here look sophisticated and elegant. We were kids, in our kitchen in that small apartment we used to live in, thinking about supper after a day at work.


I opened my eyes then, and peered through the window up at the night sky as my mind re-oriented itself. Mort gumbled in protest at my movements and the noise. Of course, that dumb dog wasn't going to wake up. Dogs aren't stupid, unlike their masters. I scratched him behind the ear the ear the way he liked, and stroked him the way he loved. Some time during the night he'd snuck up onto the bed. He sighed softly in his sleep and went back into a deeper slumber. Didn't take much to make him happy.


Fumbling for the matches, I struck a light and lit the kerosene lamp by my bed. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, cut a big billowing bed fart for Mort - and got up. The mobile was in one of my bigger packs that held some of the artifacts from a former life: pictures that were still too painful to look at, my mobile, my shaving kit, pistol and some tools and other plunder. Rifling through it, still half asleep - I dragged the mobile phone out, surprised that it still worked. When I'd bought it a hundred years ago, it had one of the new fangled thorium batteries that were supposed to be good for 5 years. When I left to come out here, I'd seriously debated about leaving it behind with everything else. I'd never been a cell phone zombie, but at the time, it made a little sense to maybe keep one line of communication open with the world. It was packed - and totally forgotten about in the three years I've been out here since.


Still hesitant, I hit the function button and the screen lit up. It was an email from Mom. Oh boy. I knew what that meant. 

Suddenly I realized that I needed to hit the outhouse - badly. It was fall outside, and bitterly cold. Ya do your business fast in conditions like that, and you don't have time to notice how beautiful the leaves and woods and trees are. The snow would come soon, and send the forest back to sleep for the winter. Once back inside I stoked up the stove and threw a log in, and then sat back and looked at the mobile. I would decide whether I'd read Mom's email tomorrow or not. In the meantime, Mort had sprawled  across the entire bed. It was one of those things with him. The big furry galloot would try to hog the bed, we'd fight about it, he'd always lose with good grace and we'd both settle down and get on with the business of snoring and farting the night away. We were two grumpy old men, near the end of their lives that took comfort in odd rituals. Wonder if he ever sat back and wondered what the point of it all was? I turned out the kerosene lamp, and hoped that when I finally got back to sleep, I'd dream of my wife in the green dress, as she moved about her sun lit kitchen without a care in the world.

They say tragedies and mishaps come in threes. For me, they came in a shit storm. Back when we were a family, everything seemed to be going great. Kid was off at school. We had good jobs, and had paid off the house. I even had a motorcycle then and a few toys. We had Made It. We were Living The Dream. We were empty-nesters, who wouldn't have the Freedom 55 of our parents, but although we weren't wealthy... we were free.

Then the culture war started. My daughter came home one day and announced that she was queer, and quitting the sciences at university to take fine arts at a no-name college or institute of some sort. I told her to grow up, get a job and/or start a family - and our own family imploded as the traditionalist squared off against the new breed of social justice warriors - and lost. Everybody lost. Then I lost my job. Then the older of two dogs, and finally my wife - to a new virulent form of cancer that seemed to pop up here and there. The world had moved on and changed without me and I sat back and wondered what to do with myself. I could only find menial work as the job market no longer needed old white men. Vibrant minorities, led by hairy chested powerful women were making the world a better place through diversity. People (like me) that didn't like it were told to lump it. That sounded fine to me - and so here I was. Doing the 'tiny house' thing in the middle of nowhere, long after the fad had faded. Out here there were no fads, just the wind, the trees, and the sky. I still don't know if I came out here to live or to die. Mort and I'd figure that one out when the time came, I guess. Demons from my past came to pay me a visit as I finally slipped into sleep.

The next morning I woke up pished with the world the way grumpy old men do. Everything hurts when you're old, even getting out of bed. I threw another log in the stove, the cabin heated up - and I splurged and decided to celebrate the day with a pot of coffee. Might as well deal with that email too, I thought. I poured a big mug of black coffee strong enough to float a horse shoe - and opened up Mom's email.


Your Dad has passed.
Come home.


I knew what the message was before I opened it, but even so, for a second my control slipped, and a few memories came flooding back. Pop showing me how to handle a gun. Pop cussing me out for my grades at school. Pop showing me how to tear down an engine. Oh...Pop...

I clamped down on that and gasped as I fought for control of my own emotions. Fuggin Mort made it worse by plodding over and plopping his big jug head in my lap - but I got my shit together. The coffee was going cold so I poured a warm up. For a time I just stroked Mort's fur, lost in other times and memories. Then I came back to the world, and picked up the mobile. With clumsy fingers, I typed on my cell for the first time in years.

Hi Mom.

On my way. Be there in a couple weeks.


The response was almost immediate. Mom was a cell phone jockey even though she was an old bird. She and her nattering friends were all over the social media like Twatter and Fecesbook and gossiping about this and that. I might have had accounts on it years ago but they went dormant because if I wanted to talk to somebody, we went for coffees or a visit or met in person. Twitter was a time suck that just got people in trouble with The Hive. Tell the wrong joke, and the wrong person saw it... and you got burnt at the stake for it. People got fired from their jobs for sexually assaulting women with rude jokes or for having the wrong opinions in those days. I wondered - do they still do that?


Jeez, that woman was fast.

You could be here in a couple days.
Please - hurry.

Ugh. Still the same old domineering, maddening woman. All the women in my family were either degenerates, fascists or socialists. Mom was a socialist. Hers was not the stupidity born of genetics, it was a deliberate, cultured stupidity that one had to go out of their way to learn and maintain. It drove me nuts and she knew it and she did it anyway. It'd always been like that.

Mom...Leslie: it's going to take ME a couple weeks to get there. I will make all possible haste, but I will get there when I get there. If certain arrangements have to be made please proceed without me.


I noticed a new button on the phone as I sat there, sipping coffee and trying to come to terms with things. Be damned - it's a power button... you can turn these things off! Cool. I flipped the tiny switch, shut the machine off, and flipped it back into the plunder it came from.

"Mort, ya stinky old retard - have you got one more walk left in ya? Looks like we got a long one ahead of us... and maybe I'd better pack."

Saturday, 21 July 2018

A Saturday Smorgasboard Of Sinners And Saints

If you're an Olde World Man like me, two of your patron saints (aside from Darwin and Murphy) will be these two guys:

That's John Moses Browning.
Where previous attempts at full and semiauto 
guns were unreliable, elaborate contraptions of limited usefulness,
Browning's designs were robust, and elegantly

And this is Col. Jeff Cooper.
John Moses may have perfected the semiauto pistol, but
Jeff Cooper perfected the way it was used.
He was one of the few people out there that understood and taught
the difference between marksmanship and pistolcraft.

I've had a stew of conflicting ideas rolling around in my head this week because of two things I've seen. I find myself intellectually bloated and constipated because I can't reconcile them. Welp… no use trying to hold it all in, so let's get the ghastly out first:

This is a snapshot of what's going on south of the American border.
There's more here if you have the stomach for it.
Thanks for that, Pastor, you can just rock me to sleep tonight...

It's time for the kids and stupid people to shut it. You can't make an argument for open borders with stuff like this unless you are fine with it in your own country, or your own neighbourhood. Nor can we say all cultures are equal anymore. The internet brings this stuff to you when the pozzed mass media tries to hide it. This isn't just Mexico, this is the world. In most countries on earth, stuff like this happens on a regular basis. That is why Donald Trump calls them shit holes, and that is why guys like me laugh when sanctimonious vibrants and chitlibs have a bird and get offended. In those countries, stuff like this flies. It's going to here in North America too if we let it. At this point I would say it's almost guaranteed. Of course it goes without saying that for our nation to survive, the men that do this stuff need to be hunted down and killed to the last man. In fact, a few of those that helped and enabled them will have to be killed too. But whadda I know? I'm just a deplorable racist, bigot, homophobe and fascist. I should be feeling culturally enriched, right? People like Hillary Clinton are more than happy to do my speechin' and thinking for me.

It used to be that in tough times you could look at your heroes role models and say, "What would Uncle Bob or Victor Quartermain do?" What would Jeff Cooper do?

I saw this one over at Irish's place shortly after I saw that blurb on Mexican Butchery:

"Already a couple of the faithful have sent in checks for a foundation memorial to the innocents who perished at the hands of the ninja at Waco ... I have been criticized by referring to our federal masked men as 'ninja' ... Let us reflect upon the fact that a man who covers his face shows reason to be ashamed of what he is doing. A man who takes it upon himself to shed blood while concealing his identity is a revolting perversion of the warrior ethic. It has long been my conviction that a masked man with a gun is a target. I see no reason to change that view."

Col. Jeff Cooper

But Jeff and Uncle Bob and those guys aren't around anymore. Nor is the country they created; I look back at the 90's and wonder what planet I'm on now. Doing the right thing now is wrong, celebrating merit has been replaced by celebrating perversion, and doing right is seen as shameful. If you have principles and ethics now - you are a target. All of our ethics and morals are being revoltingly perverted beyond recognition. It's going to get worse. Our leaders that hate us have told us so.

What is an Olde World stubfart - never mind an honourable warrior - supposed to do in a cultural and intellectual climate like this, Jeff? We aren't in a fair fight; we're losing. What are we supposed to do now?

I can't make sense of what I've seen this week, all I know for sure is that sometimes you walk the dawg, sometimes the dawg walks you. 

I'm off to do my dogly duty - the rest a ya's have a great Saturday.

Friday, 20 July 2018

How Quartermain Ended The Boogie Van Fad

Vintage Retardation: A Children's Birthday Party In The Man Cave

That's Gonna Hurt

This is why you go with Appaloosas, folks. They're generally easy tempered and the vast majority can't buck worth a damn. Having said that - yes I did actually get launched like that once by mine - but only once. I know people with horses that will kill you if you give them a chance - and their owners still love them for some reason.

Thursday, 19 July 2018

From Quartermain's Comic Book Stash

If that were written today, the gal would be a chick with a dick
and the casino would be a bath house! HAR HAR HAR!

When I was a kid the comic industry basically re-invented itself and my age group was right on the leading edge of it. When you're a tyke, watching Superman beat the pooh out of colourful villains and bad guys and always winning was great stuff. And of course as you get older, you get more complex. Stan Lee was famous for his ability to read his audience and market - so the comic books grew up with us. Peter Parker started having girlfriend problems, Captain America discovered that his gubbimint was corrupt and its motives were suspect - and the plots matured a bit too. Today some of these things have themes and plots complex enough to engage adults - but the characters were still the hammy cartoon personalities of our youth.

Sometime in my 40's I grew up and left these touchstones of my childhood in the rear view mirror. Even with all the new twists and plots and big budget movies - it was all the same stuff I read as a candy gobbling snot nosed kid. In fact now it's worse, because I hear that the comic book industry is now run by the LGBGTQFUCKMYANUS crowd. Now Superman is a butt blaster, SpiderMan is black, Thor is a tranny and the rest of 'em are all social justice warriors. Nostalgia driven customers have thrown them overboard in disgust and the kids aren't buying this shite either.

Oh well, here in the real world these things were always a useless waste of time, so their demise might be a good thing all the way around.

Bet The Oxygen Masks Are Always Deployed On That One

Looks like they made use of the emergency exits too.


Our sales girl at work has a ring through her nose, tats on her neck and thinks she is just the best thing since sliced bread. She has a hard on for old white men, conservatives and fascists (same thing in her eyes, of course) - and she makes sure everyone knows she isn't afraid of them.

And since most of the people that are our customers are stupid, dumb old white men, it drives her nuts when more and more of them prefer to deal with me. There was a time when such stupidity would have offended me but now I don't give a hoot. I watch the kids with sad, wry amusement. They will have to learn from their lumps the same way I did.

Wednesday, 18 July 2018


It was so damned hot last night I couldn't sleep.
Now I gotta go to work and I am already tired.
She's gonna be a looooooooong day.

A Particularly Naughty Knot

I have heard it said that you can judge a man by the way he handles a rope. For some reason I am thinking this might be Wirecutter's work.

Random Grumpings Of A Sinful Father

TB is feeling that ripple in the force too. The problem is that our gubbermint and institutions are infested with traitors, their toadies and lickspittles that would have been executed for such conduct half a century ago. The people doing this stuff hate us and seriously want to harm us. There is no civility to be had. One of the many things my liberal mother got wrong was that it does not take "two to tango". It takes two people committing to be honest, peaceful and civilized to get along, and only one of the parties to start a war. One thing I have noticed about the people on the other side of this culture war is that they never take any responsibility for it. They run their mouths, they play head games, they lie and cheat - and when their families and communities fall apart it's never their fault.

And there's no bones about that anymore either. The women are the worst. They tell themselves they can do everything men do just by booting them out of their jobs and taking over - and when they fail they blame patriarchy and accuse everyone of sexism. 25% of all north American women are on anti-depressants largely because the world doesn't work the way they think it should and they are cracking under the strain of staying in that narrative they built for themselves. The fallout has turned our men feral too - there are guys out there saying (seriously) that women need to be beaten regularly to be kept in line, or they go nuts and get up to all kinds of mischief.

I think those boys handled these feral feminists exactly the way they should have too. Americans take their rights, freedoms and liberties seriously but there are duties and responsibilities that go along with that too, and a lot of these liberal uber-feminists, homosexuals and self-proclaimed intellectuals  don't understand that. The Olympics is a sporting event for family entertainment. It's not a political forum for clowns trying to mix their politics with a publicity stunt. I'm sorry (wait a minute, no, I'm not) but I smiled as those bints were kicked and slapped out of area. Contrast that with America where millions of women put on pink pussy hats to protest... what, exactly? Where Hillary Clinton thinks all women who claim to be raped never lie and should all be believed? Where half the nation seriously believes the other half are a deplorable basket of racists, sexists, homophobes and fascists?

The fathers these days are taking a chit kicking too. I was on the leading edge of that and one of the first fathers run out of his family because I thought my daughter should grow up, act like an adult, get a job and start a family. That made me a fascist-literally-worse-than-Hitler, a homophobe, a sexist, and because I have the wrong ideas about race realism - throw in the racist label as well. I dunno if I would beat the liberal women in my family even if it were legal - but I sure as hell won't be letting them tell me what to do or think.

Having been put through the wringer by modern women, now I am supposed to go through it again at the hands of all the future generations I supposedly failed. Great. Another guilt trip shit show. Sorry folks. Been there, done that, got the tee shirt. I ain't doing it again.

Yannow what? Screw you, kids. I don't care what you do.
I didn't want to see the world turn out like this either - but the people
that did it don't listen to guys like me. Fact is they sounded
more like you.

I pooped in the comments over at Aaron's blog. In my grumpiest old man voice I told that little chit that if it hadn't been for me and men like me, he'd a been raised by liberals - and probably be down at the salon getting his nails painted and worrying about what the other bitchy faggots down at the gay bath house would think about his new dress! HAR HAR HAR!

This is why I like Harold Flashman. He doesn't get bent outta shape over stuff like this; he just quietly preps and stocks up on beer, ammo and popcorn. I think somebody said he'd found a great deal on M14 mags so I might go check that out.

As for you unhappy, disaffected kids - the world belongs to you now. You know everything, you have all the answers - so how about YOU go fix it? Show this stupid ol' stubfart how it's done.

There was some old nickel floating round about
fools and history... but I can't seem to put my finger on it.
Ya know what they say: the mind is always the SECOND thing to
go! HAR HAR HAR!!!!!
Did anyone see where my Viagra went?

Tuesday, 17 July 2018

Some Muddled Thoughts About 'Walking Away'

The internet is all a-flutter about how liberals are "walking away" from their more progressive peers to stand against them. There's a small mutiny going on over there; and shitlibs everywhere are in a flather because it has the makings of a large scale revolution. The nut roots of their movement has run away with it and the cool kids are not looking so cool anymore. There was even an OyTube where some self important kid prattles on about how the left has become the enemy of civil rights and decency by embracing racism degeneracy, how they've become sexists, fascists and heterophobes. As a conservative, I am supposed to by overjoyed that guys like university profs like Jordon Peterson are finally waking up?

My question is - why did it take so long? This has been going on for 15 years now and right in public. Many of these Walkers actively took part in the social justice warrior witch hunts like the one where a couple hapless computer geeks "sexually harassed" some menstruating cunned stunt when she overheard them tell a lame joke about 'dongles'. Others went quiet as church mice as prominent liberals like Harvey Weinstein and Bill Clinton raped and whored their way through the halls of power. Even the liberal sluts they plowed went along with it too. The mental illness and criminality of the left has been going on for a long, long time.

Yannow what I think it is with these Walkers? I think it's the fact that the loons over on the left are now finally turning on each other. #MeToo is basically about spurned aged Hollywood sluts avenging themselves on the degenerate elite that currently runs Hollywood. Here in Canada our idiot whoreson of a liberal prime minister - now a prime minister himself and a proud self-proclaimed feminist - is being put through the wringer for groping one of his brainless groupies.

Of COURSE you're a feminist, Turdo!
You even have the pink socks to prove it, you
rascal, you...

I can forgive the younger ones a bit. But hell's bells - even young adults should have had more brains than this. You Walkers knew where this was going a long, long time ago... and you went along anyway. What is it that changed your mind? Did YOU get passed over for a good job because you were white and male? Maybe it was your father, brother or son? Have hordes of vibrant ethnic trash swarmed into your neighbourhood and turned it into multiculti sewer riddled with crime and race tension? And now you want to slink away and deny your part in it? Not so fast, pal. People are defined by their actions as well as their words, and you Walkers had a lot to answer for. Are you reforming yourselves, or are you rats abandoning a sinking ship?

I think anyone can make a mistake. I think for most things a person can wake up and repent or at least acknowledge his errors, and be forgiven IF they are serious about straightening out … and I don't think many of these Walkers are there. They wrap themselves up in airs of nobility as they denounce their peers on the left, knowing full well they collaborated with them for years.

For now I think I'll hang separately thanks.

Monday, 16 July 2018

Coopville Bender

I was out camping all weekend and figgered I could trust everyone to behave while I was gone. But noooooo - the second I turned my back - the delinquents in Coopville got into the bottles, they all got pished as rats - and now I am hearing about all this and shaking my head in dismay. Some kids ya just can't trust.

How ya feeling today King Charles? Skin on backwards?

Sometimes the slower kids have to learn at their own pace. I think it'll be awhile before the gang gets into the sauce again.

North Of Sixty

Awwwwww. Isn't he cute???

The internet is so damn stupid sometimes, it hurts. I remember about a year ago one went viral where it was a pic of a polar bear and a husky dog snuggled up like the best of buds and everyone cooed with delight and adoration.

Of course the rest of the story never got any traction at all: the next day the polar bear killed and ate the dog, and a couple days later the natives killed the bear. Bears that frequent the settlements snacking on dogs eventually try to snack on people.

I don't understand how these critters bring out the stupid in people. Years ago the bloody Brits were doing one of their crockumentaries with some teen aged girl going into the Frozen North - and they tried to explain to the bimbo that these critters were dangerous - and she wouldn't believe a word of it. She said something like "I would probably be more likely to give on a big hug than run away...". Fags like Fat Al Gore and David Suzuki raked in millions from the envirotards when they said all the polar bears were drowning now that the ice caps were melting. And of course, they lied about that too - there's more polar bears now than ever before.

I've never bothered hunting bears of any variety myself. When we were kids my wife worked part time in a taxidermy shop sewing the rugs the customers brought in, and I swear one of the polar bears she worked on was even bigger than that brute in the pic. In rug form, he covered two very large tables.

I like bears too, but any bear that gets that close to me dies and that all there is to it.

Filthie Experiments In Animal Husbandry

Not photoshopped!


I hate you guys. Oh sure - when this young bubble-gumming hottie
does it - you all stifle yourselves and politely pretend not to notice!
But when poor Old Man Filthie does something like that, 
it is the stuff of high comedy and hilarity! Then the jeers and rude jokes start. Assholes!
Like Rodney Dangerfield... I simply get no respect...

Cabin Porn

Morbid Monday

I call dibs on this epitaph!

We went camping this weekend at the rifle range. The raspberries are coming out, as are the hornets. Shooting was the usual mixed bag - with the black powder cartridge rifle I started out smelly and then finished up the session shooting like a champ. With the cap and ball percussion pistol, I shot like a champ to start and then went to hell from there. The wife and dawgs saw three big, fat garter snakes which are something of a rarity around here.

The goofs at the rod n' gun club built the fire pit rings too hight (it's all about safety, dontcha know!!!) so I brought some huge logs to lay down in the bottom of the pit, and built the campfire on top so that we could at least see the flames over the top of the pit culvert. Both were about 18" in diameter and two together barely fit in the pit. Anyhoo, I sparked 'em up and the fire ran for a couple hours and burned down. I drank three beers, and then threw the spark arrestor mesh over the pit and went to bed. I came back out at around 3 to go pee and the logs were both just softly glowing and I nodded in satisfaction - I'd be able to spark it up again in the morning from the coals. When we got up in the morning though - the logs were long gone and only a fine film of ash was left in the bottom of the pit. We said screw it and went back to bed. When it started getting too hot in the camper I went outside, fired up the genny and turned on the air conditioning - and had a snooze again!

Of course when I got home my grass was 3 feet tall, and all the chores I skipped to go bum around on the weekend were waiting for me. I am going to be busy after work all week trying to catch up. It's hard to come back to work after a weekend like that.

I might just go again next weekend. Have a great Monday, y'all.

Saturday, 14 July 2018

King Peter's Ammo Dump

I cobbled it together out of scraps I had lying around. I started it last winter and just couldn't get round to finishing it like I should have. It's all hand stitched by a local hare lipped retard artist and there's no question it will work as advertised... but at least now I have a template to work from to make a better one.

From Uncle Bob's Porn Stash: Feminem Fatalie

Ever the scholar and teacher - even when he dabbled in porn, Uncle Bob did so with an educational intent. It's the same way many men read Playboy, Penthouse and Hustler - purely for the articles that expand the intellect.

History is replete with good men ruined by low and fallen women. How many otherwise good and  virtuous men were seduced by sneaky, sultry socialist seductresses? We will never know.

What we DO know is that there IS a God, and those that conspire against the forces of niceness and righteousness will eventually reap the whirlwind. Time is cruel; beauty is superficial and fleeting, and eventually ... that what lies underneath is eventually exposed. Ask yourself - what hell have these men consigned their souls to - after they married their communists?

The fate of her pathetic husband: to be forever mocked here and in
the underworld as
Wilhelm Von Blowjob

Who is the wife and who is the man
in such sordid relationships?
This commie and it's life partner will never know...

Justice is colour blind; it will not be thwarted
by political correctness.
Death and oblivion would be a mercy
to the man that married this communist.

And so it goes. I can go on, posting pictures of revolting communists, each more hideous and ghastly than the last!

Michell Obama

Stretch Pelosi

Deb Wasserman Whatserface…

I post this mostly in jest, but partly in all seriousness too. When you younger men are lost in the beauty of that smoking hot 20 year old bombshell that looks like she was put together by angels but has the politics of the devil - welp, this is what she's going to look like sooner rather than later. Let's play it backwards. Here are what some of the current crop of communist shrews looked like in their youth:

That's Chrissie Hyndes of the Pretenders

Madonna. I've heard she's done things with
her vagina that involve Volkswagens.
She has the looks to show for it today.

Jane Fonda I admit she's aged rather well
compared to the rest of this lot...
but she's crazier than a shithouse rat.

Errr… where was I going with this rant, anyway? Sometimes I dunno whether to take myself seriously or not! Whatever! I hope this serves as a stark reminder to our younger men: think with the big head, be clean and virtuous (like me) - and have a good Saturday!  :)

Friday, 13 July 2018

Got Written Up At Work Today

All I did was my job. My customer was having a day, he couldn't get his poop in a group for love or money, so I called him up to help. He was so messed up I did a massive reset: I had him send over his requirments, then a list of what he wanted for them, and then created a list of what he needed and explained why he needed it. Afterward, we swapped a few rude jokes and I was on to my next task without thinking twice about it.

Another email popped up a short time later with a nice little order with it, in which the client thanked me for all the help with the previous order - and here was another by way of thanks. He copied my managers on it too, and they sent along their compliments as well.

Yannow I think it must be close to 7 years since I've been recognized like that at work.

7 years. And I didn't even do that much.

For the last year and a half I spent most of my time daring the management to fire me and when they didn't - I fired them, HAR HAR HAR!!! In all that negativity and adversarial maneuvering, in giving it my best shot and getting shat on for my efforts - I just plumb forgot what it was like to be treated like a white man.

It's a little thing, but it made my day. Old farts can be mighty easy to please sometimes.

Hope y'all have a great weekend lined up.

Presented Without Comment

Thursday, 12 July 2018

Stopped Clocks

… are still right twice a day.

Pervert Tests I Have Failed

Yeah right - like any a you goofs are gonna pass this, right?
What's the first word that pops into your mind?
C'mon hotshot - the clock's ticking...!!!

Obama? Visiting Africa?

I wonder who got the worst of it: the men
or the baboon?

I think we were all on a bender and can't remember who said it. Probly Jack or Pete - they're raycissss!! But the joke goes like this:

So Obutthole walks into a bar with a colourful parrot on his shoulder and the barkeep goes, "Hey! Is that ever cool!!! Where didjya get it?"

And the parrot goes, "Africa! They're all over the place!"

I'm here all week! Try the veal!

Money Men

Up here in Canada we are going gangbusters to legalize weed. Our gubbimint is going to get into pushing drugs while trying to tell everyone not to smoke tobacco. Hey - I only live here, this stuff makes sense to liberal morons and they assure us they know exactly what they're doing.

Only in Canada, eh...? Pity...

The big money men I know are going all in. These guys are stock market hotshots and they piss me off. Flapz' dad, in his 70's, decides his mansion needs a new roof so the guy shovels a few barrels a money around, goes for the quick flip - and he's 25 grand up and the roof is paid for! He's an ex banker and he knows his stuff. He is shrewd and talented enough to play for the short game and he has brains, nerves of steel and ice water for blood. Flapz' father in law is even more shrewd and he is all in on pot. I know those two guys will be all out at just the right moment without leaving a dime of  money on the table while everyone else is losing their shirts when the bubble pops. They're both millionaires a couple times over.

I am torn on weed; I don't think putting more shit in front of our kids to get in trouble with is especially bright - but after my own kid I am not in a position to look down my nose at anybody else's I guess. I've always been a hard ass about stuff like this - I see it as a habit for idiots and degenerates but I know a lot of good folks that do it on a recreational basis so whadda I know?

The social consequences and the arguments aside I just can't see this as a viable business. Any idiot can (and does) grow this shite at home. From what I've heard the quality is superior too. Our gov't is building an entirely new bureaucracy to legislate this idiocy and the overhead is going to be massive. I can't help but think the tax payers and the slow pokes invested in this f-tardery - are going to take it in the shorts.

As for me, if I am going to get wasted, I think I'll just continue to do it as I've always done. I am not going to bother with weed at this stage of my life, thanks - I'll leave that to losers like Justin Turdo in his pink feminist socks. I will invest in malt, peat, and oak and do it like a grown up.

Have a great Friday!

Wednesday, 11 July 2018

Retard Taxidermy Shop

Recently Wirecutter was bragging about a shot he made on a yodeller - about a mile away or thereabouts - and asked us and our fledgling company to do the honours with the taxidermy. Of course when the other big gun bloggers found out about our new enterprise - they all wanted in too! I have a trophy Dall Sheep from WL Emery, a Cape Buffalo from Kim du Toit, a world record Alaskan moose from Jack, and I think that Boone & Crocket antelope belongs to either ASM or Borepatch. Be patient, men! Good work is worth the wait! In any event - for now, feast your eyes on the fine work we did for WC!

Great work Pete. Nice attention to detail!
WC will be thrilled!

Good work like this doesn't come cheap.
Our clientele is very exclusive and caters only the most discriminating 
of customers. I did that one myself - it embodies
CW's "Stare of the predator" dontchya think?

I'll bet Harold Flashman is glad tat he
didn't do a rug mount with this one, eh?
A full body mount  like this allows you to share your love
of the sport with everyone around you!

If you should happen to luck out in the 2018 hunting season, be sure to look us up for all your taxidermy needs! You won't be sorry! Good luck on the draws boys!

Spot The Bachelor

One of the problems of having a fabulous cook for a wife (aside from massive weight gain) is that you never learn to cook yourself. I am deeply envious of guys like BW and BP who can whip up a curry or a seafood medley out of thin air and match it to the proper wine and impress their gals with their sophisticated culinary skill.

If my woman ever regains her sense of sight and smell, and I find myself single … I hope there are women out there that can get by on hot dogs and food that comes in cans.

The Theory Of Natural Selection

Evolution is one of those things that was drilled into me as a kid at school. Those stupid, idiotic Christians had some problem with it only because it mocked their invisible friend in the sky! Only an idiot would go against science!

And as an adult, when I actually started questioning these enlightened scientific citizens about evolution - I started finding serious flaws in their methods. Serious scientific flaws they should have seen themselves, and would have addressed if they were supposedly real scientists and intellectually honest. And of course, once you question their integrity you have to question everything else and all their work gets called into question. Scientists, like religious leaders, are nothing without integrity. Have you kicked an environmentalist in the balls today? HAR HAR HAR!

I suppose now there three things ya never discuss in polite company: politics, religion,

Poetry Corner: I Am A Man Of Scholarly And Literary Pursuits

Stop that laughing, damn you all!!! I will NOT tolerate any disputation of my cultural and literary authority!


Harumpfffff!!! Now - before I was so RUDELY interrupted - I used to read voraciously. That was back in the days before the invention of 71 genders, cultural fascism, and copycat, paint-by-number derivative plots n' themes featuring bland, unlikeable affirmative action heroes and villains. Most of my reading was schlock paperback thrillers, sci-fi and the odd chit house horror novels. You could still get original stuff in those days, before the industry was taken over by vinegar drinking cat ladies and whored out to commies and lesbians. I read a few classics here and there too - and am taking recommendations on those in the comments if you're so inclined. Thanks in advance for your kindness and consideration.

There are two areas of literature that have yet left my soul parched and dry: the short story, and poetry.

Short stories for me have been hit and miss - with far, far more misses than hits. In fairness that is the hardest genre to write. I have seen maybe a half dozen stories that reached out and kicked me in the head the way their authors intended. I haven't read one author that can do that with any sort of regularity - until a couple months ago. Jess can do it easily. He can just conjure up characters that are people that I've known all my life and love - yet haven't met yet (if that makes any sense). I present, for your enjoyment and delectation, the spectacular Columbo. As a boy growing up shooting at small game I learned the shame of poor marksmanship and needless suffering on little critters. If I blew a shot I moved heaven and earth to finish the job and put critters out of their pain. I did it without thinking about it; and after reading that story... maybe it is something I should have thought more about. I hope Jess keeps writing. It's worth your time.

Poetry in this country is currently a foppish chit show featuring illiterate cretins and poseurs like yours truly that seriously have no talent at all. Most of it is an utter waste of time. My eyes glaze over at the reams of doggerel spewing from the phoney finks and faggots putting on the airs of the artist. And somehow, a quiet blogger like TB can blow them all out of the water with only three lines. Who'da thunk it? A Scottish warrior poet, dispensing with his competition wielding line and verse with the precision of a Samurai katana?

Of course I cannot let these gentlemen walk away with their vast talent unchallenged. I submit, for your consideration, a thought provoking and introspective poem of my own that I am sure you'll all enjoy. It has it's roots in the history of my ancestors - also noble Scots. Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your undivided attention!  *Ahem*


Sunny has the shits again
Ah cannae use the cludgie

He's perched upon the toilet seat - 
half man, half giant budgie

Ah told ya, Sunny,
Ya shouldnae huv the lukewarm Tandoori mince;
So finish

Before Ah kark mah breeks
And give the toilet bowl a rinse.

Wasn't that beautiful? Eh? Eh??? Okay I admit it! I stole that but can't remember where I got it! If the owner of that fine piece should ever happen across these pages, I will gladly give full credit where credit is due. Thank you, whoever you are, for a good belly laugh.

I hear that World Famous Explorer, Adventurer And Man About Town - WL Emery - has a new book out too. I have to set up the new iPad with kindle or whatever it is so I can buy it and read that too. 

If any of you have an artistic steak in you - The Thunderbox is always at your service.

Have a good Thursday.


I have learned more in the last 8 years than I have at probably any other time of my life. Watching my family tear itself apart, losing and finding a new job, coming to an uneasy peace with a new faith I may not be fit to carry... I learned a few things about doors, both opening them and closing them. I've had my heart broken three times by people I love but each time the hurt becomes less and less. To be fair the people that did that were suffering from their own problems and demons and maybe broken hearts of their own. I suppose I did well, managing to make it well into my 50's with an intact heart. Many men don't make it half as long as I did.

One of the biggest lessons I've learned is that some doors are probably just better left shut. 

Tuesday, 10 July 2018

No, That's Not Me...

… but you'd be correct to suspect it.

This getting-old-thing blows.

Sometimes I still forget that I'm a stupid old fart. Couple weekends ago I bought a 48 pack of beer... and it's been riding around in my truck ever since. Why, when I was a kid, I would a slammed half of it down in one go, and then pished in Quartermain's face from three counties away! And that in a strong head wind too! Then I'd puke all over my girlfriend's shoes, your shoes, your girlfriend's shoes, her friend's shoes - and still have enough left over for the hedge!

But today if I drink more than 5 my weekend is pooched. I just started a new job this year so I won't get any vacation time - so I bought myself some cigars for my summer blow out instead. I have to be careful with that because I quit smoking 9 years ago and I figured I'd get hooked again if I smoked too many. Fat chance of that; I smoked a tin of 10 and finished them off the other day... and I am happy to go back on the wagon, thanks. My lungs won't take much of that either.

Oh well, it's not like I don't have better things to do with my money.

I Dunno What That Is

But I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it!

I can see why people think the US captured space aliens and their technology. I believed it too when they brought out those F111's and bombed the chit out of Iraq with flying triangles. Now I am hearing talk of a Space Force.

I wonder what that will look like.

But He Died Honourably...

The Yank That Stole Christmas

I'm sorry everyone! But I've started reading the mainstream media again because of the entertainment value. The other day some 40+ fat, ugly cat lady was in the nooz bragging that she was old, childless and happy - and why won't you any a you arseholes believe her?!?! HAR HAR HAR!!!

I was going to tell a certain blogger lady that her infatuation
with chickens was misplaced and would be better invested in cats.
I'd scarcely got a word out edgewise when a mass of angry poultry came
after me and I was forced to take to my heels.
All I got from my altruistic efforts was a painful hen pecking.

Today the finks in the Financial Post are deeply concerned that Trump's Trade War is going to RUIN Christmas for everyone. What are you stupid Yanks gonna do when you can't get your cheap Chinese junk from Canada anymore, hmmmmm? You'll be RUINED, that's what! And that eeeeeevil Trump will come crawling into Ottawa, begging Turdo La Doo and his wise liberals for forgiveness, no doubt!

Hmmmm. I think the college kids responsible for this
are probably grads from Uncle Bob's.

… and racists... and sexists... and homophobes.
The Z Man calls it "The Four Bads".

I know I shouldn't enjoy watching the mass media and the left in general losing their minds. Laughing at idiots is all well and good... but these people are seriously deranged and they are becoming more violent as a result. They believe their own bullshit, and those are the most dangerous loons of all. The common Trumpster sentiment is, "Are you tired of winning yet?" to which the answer is always "No!" It's easy to lose sight of the situation amidst the success, the good cheer and rude jokes. But... those people over there on the left? They are festering. I seriously think they want a fight and won't rest until they get one.