Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

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

Thursday, 18 October 2018

When We Were Kings

The good life: cigarettes, bedpans and nurses.

My grandad was a poor man that never had any money. Back in those days you could still get a pack of smokes for under a buck, and Grampa had an elaborate machine that allowed him to roll his own and save even more money. He was built like a tall version of Popeye The Sailor - with a skinny body and big, ropey arms and hands that could shred anything softer than hardened steel. He smoked like a stack till two years before his death - at 86. Not bad for a guy that survived chemical gas attacks in WW1, the great depression, and never owned a car until his late 60's. He was almost euthanized in the hospital after his 3rd or 4th stroke - he was in an oxygen tent at the hospital and the nurses caught him trying to light up. They gave him the very hell of it (and he deserved it) and he finally quit when they explained to him how fire and pure oxygen react.

Shape Up And Fly Right You Rapey Retards...

Listen up, boys! Today we are all going to be learnt on sidewalk chivalry and etiquette:

Like any pig worth his salt I am sorely tempted to make a rude joke of all this. I am careful as blazes around women now because you simply can't trust them anymore. If some horse faced bint accuses you of anally raping her 30 years ago in front of a mob of your buddies on a floor of broken glass, she doesn't even need to provide proof to cause you a world of trouble. And it's a real issue; when I am out on Dawg Patrol sometimes I end up with women walking in front of us and some are clearly nervous about it. How the hags and harridans of PoundMeToo would LOVE to take down the famous fearless crime-fighting Captain Sweatpants And His K9 Cohorts! The scandal would shake the country, let me assure you.

I don't speed up, I just stop, let the dawgs smell some rabbit poop while the lady puts a comfortable distance between us. It's gonna have to be good enough ladies, because if I try to pass my dawgs don't know about political correctness and will often smell the crotches of people they want to meet!

So now y'all know how to behave behind women when you're out and about! Except for Quartermain, of course - I had him trained up right as rain. Then some thoughtless hottie raped him and now he's back to being a traumatized pervert again! I have the whole thing on tape:

Poor Quartermain...

Still Here After Weed Wednesday

And nothing has changed. All is well - every sanctimonious left wing turd burglar in the Canukistani mass media are falling over themselves to reassure ignernt, backward social conservatives like me. Folks like me must remind them of the scolds of their youth or something. "Shut up you old prude, you know nothing, we know it all, this stuff is as harmless as booze, so just can it and stop harshing our mellow..."

When I was a kid all the cool kids did it. I dabbled in it and was indifferent; my older brother was in it up to his eyeballs and even dealt a little I think. He may still, I dunno. I admit that when my neighbours occasionally do it I ignore it because they are quiet and discrete and respectful. If all I get from them in the way of trouble is the occasional whiff of pot - I'll count myself lucky and leave it at that.

According to the wife the pot shop over in The Fort had people lined up down the street and around the corner waiting to buy. On a Wednesday. During working hours. This is Alberta where the oil industry used to keep everyone hopping 24/7/365. Kids are back to living with their parents well into their 20's and even 30's because they can't find jobs or descent employment - but they have money for pot I suppose. Go figure.

What galls the crap outta me is the morons that are treating this like some kind of victory for civil rights. The gov't that did this is now openly considering a ban on handguns and assault rifles in Canada. All the liberal shitskins they are importing can't be trusted with pistols, and their kids can't be trusted with black rifles. Who'da thunk it? The mind wobbles. These are the same guys that spent the last 3 decades scolding us all about the evils of tobacco while legislating and taxing the hell out of it.

Statistically speaking I know I have little to fear from pot heads. The chances of me personally getting killed by some high pothead getting behind the wheel or at work are pretty slim. But somebody is going to get it, that's for sure. The injuries and fatalities will just be another statistic the liberals won't talk about or they'll ignore it. And when their fugged up kid takes a gun out and shoots some of his buddies in a drug deal gone bad, they'll blame the gun rather than the kids and the drugs they are fighting over. That's okay, in a sense - it's a simple Darwinian mechanism where unfit organisms remove themselves from the gene pool and that's a good thing over all - if you ignore the collateral damage.

Ultimately, legal weed in Canada is just another tax on the stupid and the degenerate. And the kids.

Wednesday, 17 October 2018

The Retard Time Machine

Some people speculate that when the time machine is invented the first temporal destinations will be stuff like the JFK assassination, the crucifixion of Jesus Christ or something like that. When it's my turn - this is where I am going.

Of course then the stock market would probably crash the next day...

Good Luck With That

In public schools, you will have all the frooty 
colours of the rainbow wanting a piece of your kids.
Home schooling nowadays is pretty much mandatory.

Tuesday, 16 October 2018


I know it's a sin.
But I look at this thing and realize that I could
easily sacrifice tax men, Quartermain, and even
nanny goats to this hand made god.

Good Morning

One day Baloney Bob, Rotten Rod and I all went to the High Run Club and soaked our hearts. We left late at night and when I got up the next morning, I woke up dead with my skin on backwards. (Made a hell of a mess when I went to the washroom, let me tell ya!)

Anyhoo, my wife made me a breakfast like this and I was right as rain and ready for a round of afternoon skeet with the boys. When they showed up, Rod smelled like death and excrement and Bob looked like he'd gone through the ringer a few times. Rod was a slight man and couldn't take the punishment and had barfed all over himself during the night. When Bob woke up, the old lady gave him the very hell of it. When the boys asked me how I made out, I told them that I had gotten bacon and eggs and a kiss on the cheek - and that they could learn something from me if they weren't so damned stupid.

Bob got my arms behind me and Rob beat me up and soon I looked as rough as they did.

Road Rockets

Like a lot of old men, I did a lot of drinkin' and stinkin' in my time. I think part of it was me giving the scolds and the snitches the finger. Probably it was stupidity. I'd think nothing of getting pished as a rat and getting on the bike or behind the wheel. Mind you, I knew I was impaired and drove accordingly. Three decades blew by like that. Friends at work got caught and busted, my brother did, my cousin did... but I made it through check stops with the charmed luck of the devil.

I still drink now and then but if I have two or three - I am on a bender. Nowadays I am an old fart and I see the kids going down that same road I did and I have to zip my lip. I made my mistakes in life and the kids'll have to make theirs and learn from them the same way I did.

Now - thanks to our pathetic faggot of a prime minister and his liberal flunkies, we have legal pot. It's just another way for otherwise smart kids to get into stupid trouble, I guess. Maybe the kids will avoid the snares and traps of life like I did.

Personally I don't think we've done the kids any favours with this. In Flapz' family they are all hotshot bankers and finance guys. Without a word of a lie his parents and in-laws are millionaires easily. I remember his father one morning flipping some stocks and making enough money to re-roof his house - that's a thirty thousand dollar bill he didn't have to worry about! He and his crowd are jumping into the pot investment thing with both feet and a clear conscience. Mind you their families are all effed right up too.

We live in curious times. And they are getting curiouser and curiouser.

Monday, 15 October 2018

Halloween Is Already Going Wrong

Filthie: The Twilight Years

Photoshop: Used For The Power Of Good This Time

It seems the most evil use of photoshop programs comes from otherwise straight up conservative guys. I remember a political forum where we were talking about immigration and there was a pic of a push start red dot indian lady breast feeding her child. The person that posted it went on about how horrible it would be for that woman in Trashcanistan and why we should let such mudflaps in by the millions because they totally WOULDN'T turn our country into a cesspit like they had done to their own. Right after it some wank photoshopped it and the next thing ya know, there was the pic again but this time the lady was breast feeding a monkey, HAR HAR HAR! I was told in advance to shut it and not say it by the poor forum moderators who were staggering under the onslaught of pre-historic 'memes'. Some of them have lethal levels of humour. I saw one the other day where Pepe The Frog had been nailed to the cross and I just about karked myself laughing. I know as a Christian I should have been offended but a rude joke is a rude joke! I feel sorry for my Maker, like me His children are moral and intellectual write offs!  :)

But one a the boys on the hotrod forum got hold of the tool and is starting to use it with spectacular results. He's one of those guys that can pimp your ride from old beaters right on up to the lunar landing module - he can make anything from scratch. Lookit his concept for his next rod:

I'd learn how to do photo-shop too... but I would only use it for the forces of evil 
and do pics of pakies breast feeding chimps or something.
As for the concept above... I think it has merit.

Sunday, 14 October 2018

Sunday Mish Mash

Well I had my first performance evaluation on my new job. They want to see a few tweaks, of course. Different companies, different ways of doing things. But over all they're happy and gave me a raise and a bonus. I've had "managers" in the past use these things to intimidate and threaten their employees and if I had seen any of that I would have just quit and walked. I learned the hard way that there are no opportunities in companies that treat their people like that. For now, for me at least - at work, life is good.

I almost went over in my sleep at church today. The speecher they had up there today was one of those holy rolling bible thumpers. They are the kind of guys that get sanctimonious and read out of that book and think they're learnin' ya something. I used to see guys like that hectoring their audience and wonder what the hell was wrong with them and why they didn't just get up and leave. I now know that that is just the style of some of 'em. They think that book speaks for itself (and it does) - but that reading from it is good enough. I can do that myself, thanks - but whatever. I took some time to harass the seniors and slurp some coffee beforehand so it's all good.

I got in a big fight with the old geezers over at the hobby shop when I went to buy a battery tester. I wanted one that did LiPo and NiMH batteries and was huffily informed that there was no such thing. So I told the old boy that there was, and I had bought mine from them a year or two back. For some reason he got quite snotty about it. Finally the kid in the back informed us that yes, there was such a thing, and that he'd be happy to bring one in for me. The old boy changed his tune and took the same tune - but I didn't want it after that! HAR HAR HAR! They hire a lot of semi-retarded retired old guys there and some of 'em get pretty pissy. Hopefully I will have my nitro trainer plane running again by the end of the week.

Speaking of crabby old geezers prattling on about something they know nothing about, the old boys at the Swamp People Retirement Home are prattling on again about Ahab The Arab using hobby drones to take over the world again. I just shake my head at these urban myths and wonder how they get so much traction. How many millions (billions?) went into R&D for that weapon system? Given that the vids were mostly CG special effects - is it even viable yet? The old boys there think so; not one of 'em noticed the CG effects and thought it was real. I was HAR-HAR-HARing, Aesop filled his Depends, and I left amidst a hail of flung food and dung!

So… life is boring round here, but comfy. As always, thanks for stopping by.

Saturday, 13 October 2018

Lessons In Manliness

Lookit this. Friggin soyboys - there is so much FAIL in this I don't know where to begin. First of all - do you see any pretty girls around? Any innocent children and civilians?  No! So - let 'er rip!!! Second, unless you can see it - it ain't a fart. Where are the Texans in all this? Why, if I were on the scene I woulda rushed in and sampled the bouquet - and then shown that little poseur what a real fart is!
And finally - sneaking away? Really?!?!? Boys, you take ownership of a well cut ripper and be proud of it! You go in, stand tall, and fart-rape EVERYONE within your percussive blast zone!

A fartin' horse will never tire, 
And a fartin' man is the one to hire.

Have a good Saturday and thanks for stopping by.  :)

Filthicus: Blood & Sand


Quartermanicus and Pete Ferex have actually done it!!!! Ladies and gentlemen it is so GOOD to have you here! Quartermain and Pete have successfully captured some of the most fearsome monsters IN THE WORLD - and brought them here to my Vomitorium where they will fight and die for our amusement! 

Ladies and Gentlemen - for the first time in recorded history - bloodsport!!! Bought and paid for by your loving Emperor!!!

I ask you my countrymen: are you not entertained?!?!?

Of course nothing can be allowed to go right with these things. Not shown in the Gif is when Jack and TB jumped out of the bushes and sandbagged those two - and threw them both on the BBQ!

No doubt, in the next episode of Filthicus we will probably be back to (hork, spit) gerbils, kittens or puppies again. And - that is assuming some hairless monkey doesn't come along and fry them up too!

Stay tooned. One a these days, we will get it right! 

Boys... We NEED A Welder....

Friday, 12 October 2018

When We Were Kings

When I was a kid Big JS was bigger than most grown men. He was about 240 lbs in fighting trim and it was all muscle. Most of it was heart, to be honest.

Anyhoo he had a dilapidated Dodge van with a blown 6 banger and he took a mind to re-motor it. Dan's Dad (who was supposedly a mechanic) nigger rigged a hoist even WORSE than the one in the pic - he repurposed a children's swing set for the job. I started to pipe up that the swing set wouldn't take the weight - but was told to shut up because I was not a mechanical whiz kid like everyone else.

So they rebuilt the engine, hoisted it up... and of course the swing set immediately started to buckle. I backed away, no way was I gonna get between gravity and that engine - but Jeff dashed forward and caught it before it hit the shop floor. Sure, it was only a slant six... but he had his life savings in that engine. He carried it aside and gently set it down on some tires in the shop.

An experience like that is something any young man associated with it learns something from. JS went on to learn how to tear down engines and keep beaters from dying an honourable death - his vehicles ran as badly as they looked no matter how dead they were. I learned that I was not a mechanic, and that most of my friends weren't either. Nor were most men that claimed to be. And -  that if I wanted to drive nice vehicles I would need a job that allowed me to buy and  pay for them.

Many of my friends always buy used, and swap them off to replace them with other second hand vehicles. Me? I take the hit. I buy them brand new right off the lot - and I keep care of them and drive them until the doors are about to fall off... and give them away to some tard like JS to keep running 'just a little bit longer...'. They will buy ten vehicles to every one I buy but they seem to think the economics work in their favour so I just smile and nod along.


Most retards are friendly, loveable and trusting... but not that kid! He's seriously sick, and he has to be stopped!!!

Jack! Pete!

Load up, load out - and bring in some of the gunnies. Quartermain has gone mustang and has got to be stopped! Not even a Glock deserves that...

Slung A Little Low...

… but that don't mean you're slow!

I'm gonna do that to my motorcycle and 
teach those Harley retards like Flapz and BP a lesson
they'll never forget!
Mine will have that hinged flapper thing on it to keep 
the rain out though.

For those of you making it back home tonight - welcome home!
For those of you still on the road, drive careful.
Hope you had a great Friday!

Putting War Vets In Perspective

This is not meant to trash the squaddies. Of course, anyone with a triple digit IQ would know that, but these days, a fella needs to be careful of what he says and how he says it.

I've heard that these squaddies are not German Shepherds, but a closely related variant. Apparently this is THE breed for law enforcement and military - think they're called Belgain Melanoits or something. Maybe it's just my imagination but I think I can see the intellect in these soldiers even my own crime-fighting K9's don't have.

And maybe I am imagining it, but I'll be darned if that isn't a 1000 yard stare going on. We seriously need to think about the way we think about our best friends.

Wednesday, 10 October 2018

Rejects From CW's Cabin Porn File

I was over at the Daily Timewaster rooting through the garbage looking for something to eat to recycle and came across this gem:

I am beginning to suspect that CW is possibly a little stuck up and pretentious.
A fireplace, outdoor plumbing - country living at its finest.

Okay. That's Just Gay...

Good gravy!!!

Even the worst fudge packing pillow biting shirt lifting poodle walking butt blasting Cleveland steaming faggot - would be embarrassed to lift the hood on something like that! The owner of that car is on a road to perdition - mark my words!

An Open Letter To President Trump: A Clear And Present Danger


Dr. G. Filthie
Minister Of Unsavoury External Foreign Affairs
Foreign Enemies Division


Donald A. Trump
United States Of America

Dear Mr. Trump,

As you've already heard from your own internal security experts,me and my compatriots can rain death, destruction and mayhem on any citizen of the United States, at any time. If you have any doubts of our intent and ability - may I refer you to the pic enclosed below:

Doesn't that make your blood run cold, you American pig-dogs!?!?
Bet yer sorry you gave Justine Turdo a wedgie
during the NAFTA talks, eh...?

That, if your technical and security experts don't already know - is the beginnings of a long range drone station. Other components are inbound as we speak. Once assembled, I will be able to bombard you or any other American I choose with a rotten egg, wadded up used Depends diapers - and possibly even genetically altered killer gerbils. Mock me at your peril.

The attacks will begin in one month unless the following demands are met:
  • The Dallas Cowgirls must be turned over to me in chains and skimpy outfits
  • One Heart Attack Grille must be opened and operated in Aaaadmontim Alberta at US expense for at least 5 years
  • Canadian participation (i.e. 'mine') - in the firing squads convened for Bill and Hillary Clinton, Maxine Waters and any other worthy democrat a-holes. Canadian versions to be added at my discretion.
The clock is ticking.

Have a great Thursday, eh!


Dr. G Filthie

When We Were Kings

Cool kids like Quartermain and Jess woulda driven dream machines like this.
I had beat up farm trucks - but even they beat walking.

Construction Catastrophe: Coopville

CM and her husband were unavailable for comment.

Today's Hate Crime: Send It

Care to make any rude racist jokes Pete? How about you, Jack? Any insensitive
observations you'd care to make? Anyone feel like some inappropriate
laughter might be in order???

Have a great Wednesday - and if any a ya's even think of having any fun - I will be watching you very carefully!!! You've been warned!

Tuesday, 9 October 2018

More Gun Nonsense

Part of the reason - most of the reason - I own mouse guns, poodle shooters and black rifles is the kind of a-holes that don't want me to have them. Granted, the vast majority of gun grabbers are just idiots... but more than a few of them are genuinely evil sonsabitches that don't want to have to worry about getting shot for the kind of crap they want to pull. I have no intention of haggling over my right to defend myself from them, their failed social experiments, or the idiots and crooks they vote for.

Having said that - if it weren't for them... I'd probly only have one mouse gun and the rest would be manly hunting rifles or relics.

I love single shots.

A gun like that is fine if you have a Lear jet, an estate in the Highlands and money like WL Emery. I don't even know what that is - a Farqueson, maybe? But at my stage in life right now, outside of two legged critters, my gun needs could all be met with a fine single shots and that's it!

Yesterday over coffee with King Peter we got in a fight over it. He's getting old too, and the dumb chit won't face it. This fall he went down on a sheep hunt and couldn't carry his gear out. High blood pressure. I told him it was time to abdicate the throne, that he has to step aside for the new kings heading up into the mountains … and that his day was over just like mine. He wouldn't have it; he's taking pills, he's dieting and exercising, blah blah blah - hell, he almost has me convinced that he may have another season or two in him. I pray that he does, the mountainsided of the Rockie's eastern slopes are a real bad place to have health issues. If Queen Mary found out she'd have his head. I am sorely tempted to snitch on him but I let myself be sworn to silence on it.

As his self appointed guardian and nuisance doctor I read him the riot act. He has no more than three days on the mountain at a time from here on out, and that's it. He gets 35 lbs. for his pack, and that's it. And - he's gonna need a new sheep rifle. Hell's bells, what kind of idiot goes after sheep with a heavyweight belted magnum? 

King Peter does. Or...did.

Here's my advice for the deadly serious sheep hunter:

No, it isn't a canoe paddle or anchor - it's possibly one a the best guns for the money there is.

These break open single shots are cheap like dirt and horrible to look at. BUT - they are deadly accurate, light, and short! Years ago Skinbag bought one of these for his 12 year old daughter, chambered in 7mm-08. I seriously contemplated stealing it after just a few shots. I have no moral qualms about stealing from bums like Skinbag or Pete F, Jack, or TB but the little lady was a different story. With 140gr Sierras that gun shot soft and straight and she was ringing steel with the big boys. That woulda been one sweet sheep load too. You can put a 24" pipe on one of them and still have a package as short and handy as a Daisy BB gun and just about as light too.

I feel for Peter; it's a tough thing to drop out of the fields and give up the tents, trails and fellowship of the hunting camp. But his eyes are going too, he has reading glasses. When I showed him the rifle on my cell phone, he had to put on glasses to see things up close whereas I have to take them off.

If YOU ever come across one of these fine, economy rifles - don't pass it up like I did.

Just As There Are Only Two Genders...

… there's only two ways to do 9mm



Sigh. Alright!!! As a personal favour to WL - and only because he is an old fart that can't keep up with the modern times like us younger, more handsome men... we might consider one a these:

We got in a fight with some Gruppenfurher and his goons at the Torpedo Club in Paris in 1939. 
WL's bottle of gin went over in the scuffle, he lost his chit and flattened
the lot before I could get any shots in. He helped himself to the officer's sidearm as compensation
for his spilt rotgut.
He's been brandishing that contraption ever since and I swear 
he only does it to annoy me.

Quartermain is admonished in advance to keep his Glock in his pants! Nobody wants to see it, and I swear to gawd, if he drags it out and starts frightening the ladies with it - I'll have him flogged! The 9mm was invented by Eurofaggots to shoot other wanks with, and outside of targets they have no real world application.

The rest a ya's - be smart and sensible. God's calibre, wielded in accordance to the dictates of his saints:

Elegant leather holsters, please, and 7 shot magazines for formal occasions
like BBQs, fishing trips, and football games. I'm sure some of our 
Texan friends can point us in the right direction for good gun leather.

When's the last time YOU have been out at the range?

No Need To Be Ashamed Of It

Happnes to me all the time...

Monday, 8 October 2018

The Dilemma Of The Two Cycle Stubfart

I don't get it.

Mmatt has no problems whatsoever getting his ultralight airplanes started in cold temps. Used to be that all snowmobile engines were two cycle and most of them started up like a hot damn in winter - and variants of those engines are hard at work on small aircraft today. So - stick a pin in that.

Yesterday my timing was finer than that of any farmer, and right up there with a swiss watch: I fired up my lawn mower and weed whacker for the last cut of the year. The mower needed a few extra pulls to get going - but so did the two cycle weed whacker. I had to run it up and warm it up before it ran right. Stick a pin in that one, too. It snowed overnight so an old goat can't cut it much finer n' that for timing, eh? HAR HAR HAR!!!

Now then - let us consider all that about all this:

I want to get my small RC planes on skis and run them in the snow all year round. The reason for that is the retired old farts at my field all migrate south for the winter and with them not around to hog the field - I can fly whenever I want. The only problem is that the small glow engines HATE cold weather. They start getting very balky at around 0C. I gave up on it when life demanded my attention elsewhere. But now... the flying itch is back in my blood and I feel the need to partake of the cool, green delicious fuel these toys like to guzzle.

Why is it that some two cycle engines will run in the cold, and some will not?

The secret, I'm told, is to get the engine warm. The problem with my glow engines is getting them to run long enough to warm up. I convened an academic symposium on the subject on the RC forum, and the intellectuals there turned their formidable intellects on the issue. The boys are saying that in cold weather, run the hottest glow plugs I can buy. Also, more nitro is better for the obvious reason that it will burn hotter. Most a that I coulda figgered out myself... but this is a new one: the boys said a great starter fluid for glow engines is …. lighter fluid!

Harumpfffff! Call me a skeptic: lighter fluid comes out somewhere around diesel in the burn characteristics if I recall correctly. But the intellects of RC academia were adamant, not only would it work, some said, it worked so well that it should be cut with regular nitro fuel. Other said a few drops down the carb wouldn't hurt nothin' and that that's what they did.

Interesting experiments are in the offing. If any of you have any advice to offer, the comments are always open.

Have a great Monday!

Sunday, 7 October 2018

The Swiss Army Wrench

Yup. I'm Just Broke Right Up About It

HAR HAR HAR! HAR HAR HAR! Oh yeah, my heart bleeds purple piss for the vaginal rage heads and harridans of the lunatic left.

There's a lot of high fiving going on about this and I get it. Every single person involved in that scam should be horsewhipped. They've made a mockery of due process, of the crime of rape, and themselves. At least they were driven back a ways and defeated.

But the point is being missed. The guys that did this know it's wrong, they lied under oath, and they'll do it again. They are going to spin this: rapists, homophobes, fascists, and racists are taking over the gov't! That can be used to escalate and intensify the culture war. I hope I'm wrong, and that the liberals and their hag squads go find some place to curl up and die... but I don't see it. In fact, I can see them using it to justify more violent opposition. For progressive leftists, the moral high ground is very much a social construct.

A Timely Public Service Announcement For Halloween

Here at Uncle Bob's Institute For Retards And Deplorables we are feverishly preparing for the arrival of all hallows eve! Fortunately Big Pharma and their friends at the FDA are always on the lookout for our health and well being:

That it does... and I can eat that stuff by the wheelbarrow!

Because I can't control myself, every year, like millions of others, I come down with Black Licorice Poisoning. My tongue turns blue, my stomach revolts and I start chitting like a goose. Don't even think of trying to drink while you're gobbling this deathly stuff. I want to hurl just thinking about it!!!

Sigh. Gotta be Quartermain again.
Wirecutter will have to hustle if he hopes to beat him
in the Punkin Carvin' Contest this year...

Saturday, 6 October 2018

Saturday Double


I don't know if you folks are getting it in the US, but up here in Canada our moral and intellectual superiors are bandying the latest catch phrase around at the drop of a hat:


Apparently it's really, really, REALLY bad. Really! But what got me about this latest liberal bogeyman is that they could never seem to pin down why it was so. So I looked it up. Now it all makes sense: us pig-ignernt working people are too stupid to think for ourselves. Without our moral and intellectual superiors telling us what to say and think, who knows what kind of hell on earth folks like you and I can unleash!

They seem to forget something called the internet. With a click of a mouse, I can see exactly what they are implying with their cheesy non-words and buzz phrases they use to try and make themselves look intelligent. Consider - with that same computer mouse I can literally read any scholarly paper or critique, analyze it, and even critique it myself with a carefully considered and fully informed opinion. For all intents and purposes I can derive my own scholarly opinions every bit as valid as theirs and refute them on supportable grounds.

Is there such thing as an intellectual class anymore?

Happy Thanksgiving

I am not a wealthy man.
But I'm free.

I can't remember if it was Thanksgiving or Christmas. It was 100 light years ago back when our family was still a family - although it was held together by a thread at that point. Things were getting seriously weird at that point. Something was definitely wrong and whatever it was - it was getting worse.

To my ageing baby boomer in-laws, academics were rock stars, and education was high status. Their son was the pride of their family - he went to school and took 7 years to get degree in education (that takes normal people 4 years) - and became the family's pride and joy. And of course, he was a shitlib all the way through. He married a card carrying feminist and they had two children, both of whom had learning/behavioural issues resulting from spooky sounding new-age fake illnesses. At family gatherings we got regaled with their views on politics, the environMINT, and whatever other cause or issue progressive liberals happened to have up their butts at the time. It was murder for a redneck like me to sit and listen to those idiots.

One day, either Christmas or Thanksgiving, they had their in laws over and we all sat down for a family meal. My brother in law's father in law was a bald headed creep with a goatee that was a professor at the university - anthropology if I remember correctly. He was there with his girl friend, his first ex-wife, and his second ex-wife. They were mousey, homely old women that had the air of women that had been through the wringer a few times too many. I felt awkard as hell,  but my in laws thought he was a hero, and that his presence in their home made them heroes too. And of course they started talking politics over dinner and how stupid conservatives and Christians are and I just wanted to get up and leave. But I took their bullchit in silence as I always did because I loved my wife and I loved my daughter, and they loved these people. Didn't want to make a scene, right?

The rest was history. Progressive liberals destroy their own families with their virtue signalling, ropey mouths, chit tests, and so on - and they blame it on everyone else except themselves. I turned my back on them and when they came after me I told my wife that either they go or I do. Personally I did not expect my marriage to hold through that - but amazingly it did.

We were the first sign that the family no longer worked. Inevitably my brother in law divorced his feminist wife with their dysfunctional children and took up with another younger teacher he met. I'm pretty sure his meddling parents had a hand in that too. My daughter became a militant, angry lesbian social justice warrior... but whatever. They're just a fading scenes in the rear view mirror now. There would be no more proper family gatherings for us ever again. Any get-togethers we could have would be, at best, silly parodies of the real thing because family holidays require...families.

I thank my Maker for my wife and offer up my sincerest gratitude. I hope He'll give my former family whatever peace and fulfillment they can find as well. And - I would like to thank you, dear reader - for stopping by.

It's Canadian thanksgiving up here, and you Yanks have my permission to take a long weekend and celebrate it with us - tell The Boss I said it's okay.

Friday, 5 October 2018

An Antenna Farm

Filthie's Theorem states that ya can't put something into something else and get more out than what ya put in. I developed that ground breaking observation back in an electronics lab in my school days. We had those idiot 'bread box' circuit boards and learnt ya everything ya needed to know about electronics by building elementary circuits. I did alright up until we graduated from switches and resistors to capacitors and coils. JFC - then we started adding in diodes, op amps, and black box black magic that I can't even pretend to understand now.

One day I put together an awful circuit that when ya applied a voltage to it, you got more out than was going in. Our instructor was a ghastly little man we all called Fur Bag.  The fella ran around with pocket protectors, flood pants and all the rest of the nerdish attire - and he hated us all with a passion and made no secret about it.

So Ol' Furbag comes over to investigate. "Hell's bells Filthie - did you get a retard to wire this up for ya? It looks like a friggin antenna farm!" I told him to shut his gob because I had just invented free electricity and my intellect was right up there with Einstein. So we put the voltage on it, and sure enough, more was coming out than was going in. "I don't believe this," Furbag muttered. So he put his glasses up on his greasy head, and leans in close to take a better look at what I had done - and one of the capacitors exploded right under his nose and scared the chit right out of him.

"Way to go, Furbag," I raged, "Ya just destroyed mankinds's only chance at free, clean energy!"

I suppose it's just as well. If I had gone public with my discovery, I would have been hunted down and kilt by the eeeeeevil Joooos that run the world, and they would have patented my discovery for themselves. Or some filthy sand rat from OPEC would have blown me up to save their evil oil cartels.

Sometimes bad things end up being good things - maybe I should copyright that astute observation before somebody else does.

Have a good Friday and thanks for stopping by.

Children's Stories From Uncle Bob's Retard Reader

I got in numerous fights with Uncle Bob over the texts used in our reading programs. It was my scholarly opinion that texts should learn the little bastids to read... but Bob said that would only make 'em more dangerous and I was over-ruled. I'm still mad about it! But whatever, here is a wonderful story with no reading required! And let's face it, it's better than anything you'll find on Netflix! HAR HAR HAR!!!

Wagging The Dog

As I said in a previous post, I was out at The Bayou Henhouse where the cackling old hens were convinced the sky was falling: the rag heads were weaponizing hobby drones and in the near future, Abu-Al Fuknuk Al and Mohammed would be dropping heavy ordnance and fire bombs on hapless innocents at sportsball games and public events. Feathers, turd, and spittle flew as the old cankles imagined drones carrying ready rod and flying them down the gullets of jet engines as they spooled up for take off, or carried biological weapons, or...or...or...!!!!!! Drones are coming! And Hell follows with them...!!!!

Of course it was all BS, but trying to get the old boys to look at facts just made them mad.  The news articles they referenced were so shamefully obviously fake that only an idiot could fall for it. (I shouldn't be so harsh - a couple of the fellas began to think for themselves when I pointed this out). I won't re-hash that battle, but I started thinking and the rotten wood began to smoulder: why is the media doing this smear job on hobby drones?

Everyone knows the media is the propaganda arm for the leftist agenda. They've been running the same smear job on gun owners, Christians, business owners, etc. I understand their motivations for those too: gun owners can defend themselves and their property from Marxist looters and their shills in gubbimint. Happy Christians with good traditional families and communities are offensive to queers, feminists, and atheists that have destroyed their own. Of course - those rotten business guys like Joe The Plumber want to keep the money they earn and not share any of it with welfare slobs and socialists. But why are those guys so afraid of hobby drones that they are running this carefully orchestrated smear job?

The only answer I can come up with is that they are scared spitless of having more eyes in the sky, and inconvenient witnesses looking over their shoulders.

And that is something that should have us ALL worried.

Wednesday, 3 October 2018

Kills 'Em Three Times Deader Than Regular Guns

So? Now I guess I can miss MORE times with each squeeze of the trigger....

Rejects From CW's 'Shave Of The Day'

He Has A Future In Journalism

I'm thinking that these days that boy could do mighty well for himself over at CNN, or MSNBC or even the NYT. If he's Canadian, he'd probly go for the CBC, or The Glob and Snail or the Tranna Star.
I no longer take my news from the mainstream media unless I have time to decipher what they are lying about, or I want to know what my enemies are thinking. When I see the mass media tanking and their ratings and circulation numbers diving - I smile. They deserve unemployment, they deserve to be mocked and destroyed the way they have done to so many in the past. It's an awful thing to say, but true.

Meanwhile, In Australia

Things That Go PBBFBFBFBFFT!!! In The Night.

Yesterday I heard a cacophony of cackling and squawking and it set up such a racket, I could hear it all the way up here in Alberta. At first I thought it was just King Charles having a domestic dispute with his harem of hens down in Coopville - but this noise was somehow shriller and more hysterical.

Long story short - the source of the shrieking and screaming was the old hens at The Senior's Retirement Home On The Bayou. And of course, I sat there, HAR-HAR-HARing at the silliness of it and then promptly got sucked into it myself! I found myself in the middle of an old-fart-beat-down: Aesop called me a 'Bagdhad Bob' and I gave him the frowning of his life! Some other old retard was wailing about RC toys being used to fly rebar rods down the gullets of jet engines on passenger liners. Pete linked to a story about ragheads attacking Marines with Tiny Whoops. ISIS has weaponized hobby drones! We are all DOOOMED!!!!

I swapped some good natured insults with the boys and left. Of course we dispensed with this nonsense before in these pages. No - hobby drones are NOT going to be blowing up jet aircraft or dropping bombs on politicians any time soon (shut up Jack!). They don't develop the thrust necessary to lift meaningful loads, and even if they could they wouldn't maneuver with them. There's a reason us hobbyists build with materials like plastic, Styrofoam and balsa wood. My home built Crapcopter drone - one of the bigger, heavy lift hobby drones - couldn't even lift the weight of your standard hand grenade - about .67kg if I remember correctly. There's a reason these hysterical articles appear in rag sheets like the Daily Beast, I suppose.

Interestingly enough though - the boys had a new joke threat to national security this time - long range hobby drones!!!! "They are a clear and present danger!!!" Pete shrieked, "They can go 60km!!! and drop BOMBS!!!!"

No, hobby drones can't operate 60 km's away. Most of the more serious drones that require a standard radio transmitter operate on 2.4GHz and is good for about a kilometer in any direction provided you have line of sight and no obstructions. Most FPV (First Person View) - or video transmitters on hobby drones - operate on 5.8 GHz. I start getting static in my goggles at a couple hundred yards. Some of the cooL kids with patch antennaes and diversity receivers are getting out to the kilometer mark - but they are pushing their equipment right to the limits.

Stay toned - I've ordered some parts, and we will see just what the average hobbyist actually CAN do with these toys. It should be good for a grin.

Tuesday, 2 October 2018

Shop Notes: Fillers

The last few trips to the range have made it official: summer has long since gone bye-bye.

The road into my campsite definitely runs
through October country.

It was pretty crappy and windy out but it never stopped me from enjoying the shooting when I was a kid, and it won't stop me now either. The problem with this weather is that proper black powder shooting becomes problematic in winter. Mopping the bore between shots and strings becomes a nasty business with the mercury drops. That means in winter I gotta go smokeless - and that can be problematic in the old cartridge guns like the .45-70. That opens a can a worms with inconsistent ignition. The powder charge only fills a quarter of the space inside the case, and if nothing is done about it you get inconsistent ignition, which means inconsistent velocities, which means inaccurate shooting downrange.

I was forced - literally at gun point, HAR HAR HAR!!! … to go to using fillers. My first experience looking into it was grim. I went on the Cast Boolit forum for my info and wound up smack-dab in the middle of a senior citizen's food fight. There's a lot of old boys in Velcro shoes over there and they fight about EVERYTHING. If you go on there and note that the sky is blue, most of 'em will agree as long as you're reasonable about it - but there's any number of old bastards that will contradict you and call you out as an idiot for saying something so blatantly false. Who knows what colour the sky is in their world? I was pissily referred to a particularly long thread about the use of cartridge case fillers - and blew an hour of my life wading through debates, idiocy, and reading about how this old fart used them, and how that old bastard thought he was an idiot for doing it that way. Then some retard would chime in and talk about a friend of a friend who had a great grandfather that blew up is rifle using fillers back in 1936 and they are still finding bits and pieces of him as far away as south America. FFS!!! I sent a private message to one of the moderators and asked for a little bit of practical assistance - and the man saved my sanity. Now I use fillers all the time without an ounce of worry - so here's how I do it. There's other methods, but this one works for me so I don't mess with it.

Don't even think about reloading without a trustworthy manual.
A chronograph is essential too, especiaaly when you go off side and start dabbling
in the black arts.

I look at the velocities. Today I'm getting around to loading some Postell or Money Points - you can't buy these around these parts, so ya gotta make 'em yourself! I use the recommended powder charges with a couple grains of salt - my attention is squarely on the published velocities. When you use fillers they can spike pressures - so my outhouse rule of bum thumb is take whatever charge the manual has, start low, and your starting charge should be about 2 grains lower than the published charge weights. That will put you somewhere between the lower half and lower third of the target velocity envelope and you can start to tweek your charges from there. For these big fat slow boys, I want to be going between 1200 ~ 1350 FPS.

Those tufts of green threads are dacron fillers - the old lady
will use this to make quilting and arts n' crafts.
That is going to be our case filler that will take up excess volume in the case,
and hold the gunpowder charge in the bottom of the case
near the primer - where it should be for optimum ignition.
Don't worry about fouling; the stuff gets completely consumed
during the ignition sequence.

Each of those green wads weighs EXACTLY 1.5 grains. You don't want any more than that or you very well could blow yourself up if you went overboard! That's what works for the snipers that moderate Cast Boolits, that's what works for me - so give it a try yourself if you're so inclined. The usual weasel words apply though! I have no control over how you reload, what condition your gun is in, etc etc. I will not take responsibility for anything that happens to you using this data incorrectly! Having said that - if you reload like an adult and use your noggin - you won't get into any trouble.

I pull those tight wads apart, and thin out the tuft of filler so that it isn't lumpy or squashed together. Then I carefully fold it into the case, taking care not to compress it. It is a slow and boring process - don't cheat by pushing the wad down into the case with a pencil or implement! You want as little compression as possible!

Try to let the filler compress itself as you fold in the tuft.
If a little pokes out the top don't worry about it.

Let the bullet do the compressing! You will
get much more consistent and safer results.

And there ya have it - a safe, accurate and handsome round
of vintage 45-70 ammo!

Yannow I take a lot of heat from fags like Quartermain and Pete and WL Emery when we are out robbing African tribesmen of their gold idols, shooting elephants, krauts and man eaters. They've been hanging around creeps like Borepatch and ASM and are stuck on smokeless nitrocellulose ammo like flies on a turd. The strut around with belts of gleaming brass cartridges for their Rigby's, Maxim and Spandau machine guns, showing off for the ladies with all their bling.

For me - love the way using black powder tarnishes the cases to give them a vintage antique look.

Those cases are perfectly clean and fine - they're just tarnished a bit. A little patina
adds charm and romance to my home brewed ammunition... or at least I think so!
To me this ammo looks experienced, refined and distinguished - a suitable accoutrement 
for a gunnie stubfart of my obsolete stature.

If you young ones are heading afield this week - good luck out there, eh? Hope you lucked out on the draws, and full freezers to the lot of ya's!!! And have a great Humpday!