Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

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

Tuesday, 28 February 2017

Inside Jokes

There's a certain simian wire cutting knuckle dragging blogger I regularly visit to catch up on the latest rude jokes, wrong political opinions and general ass hattery.


Not mentioning any names dontchya know...HACKAAFFFFF! Hmpffff!!!

In any event, on this hypothetical blog there are often rude jokes involving an American critter called a racoon... and and said critter is the subject of punchlines that sail right over my pointy head. The smart kids all get the joke and I just go 'Huh?' Story of my life and all that. I decided to turn my formidable intellect on the problem using my powers of observation and deduction to get the inside track on these mysterious jokes and the people involved.

We don't have racoons in Alberta, although if WC and his friends with arms like canons have their way... we probably will soon.

Don't Anyone Say Nothin' To Uncle Bob...

...but I think that new dog a his ain't right, if ya catch my drift...

One a yas keep the dog there, somebody else distract Bob...
and I'll go get my lead pipe...!

Modern Torture Machines

Gotta be a liberal - he almost put his head up his own
arse with that one...

Monday, 27 February 2017

Knowing A Gift When You See It

So, I'm NOT an arsehole and anything BW and WL say to the contrary is a damned lie! At least, I'm not one on purpose.

It's been damned crazy round here for the last little bit. We just had a 6 day week at work prepping for an inventory count that went off like a Swiss watch - that had been run over by a few semis and a couple of army tanks and then some steam rollers. The wife is up to her ears in volunteer work at church and is out every night. After a long day I come home and my friggin dawgs need a 50 mile hike to keep them sane and at the end of the day I just want to veg out and put my feet up.

I'm whining, aren't I? Or rather, making lame excuses.

The elders at my wife's church are lonely old seniors and I love them all. Some are sharp as tacks and a few others are... dulling with age, if ya catch my drift. They will yak your ears off too. In my job I listen to gas bags like The Crack and the customers drone on and on and on and on the weekends I don't really handle it well. That's my time and I will share it with the oldsters, but when it's time for the rifle's TIME. I haven't had to be rude, but I will kill old folks if necessary to make my escape!

Old Ed is a dear old gentleman and I loved him the moment I met him. He's had a remarkable life and we both dabble in the heavy construction industry and work closely with ironworkers. Every weekend he pulls me aside, and tells me the same old story about how - in his early career - he almost got knocked off a girder fourteen stories up. I believe him too, I've seen runaway crane loads and have been hanging by my nose a couple times with a Pamper full of fright too - it goes with the job. But every weekend, the old boy gives me the same story and I have to think up new questions to ask him and it's getting tough.

Couple weeks back he gave me a book. The old fella had taken the time to sit down, get his poop in a group and publish his memoirs. And he gave me a copy.

Oh FFS! I can't spare the time to clean house and now I gotta read this???

Now I would never say that to Ed or any other oldster... but that was how I felt. Ed's autobiography has been sitting around on my night table for a couple weeks now. I've ducked church a few times because I just know the old boy is gonna corner me and quiz me on it.

Goddammitalltohell. Welp, inventory is over, the house is a pigsty ... I smell and need a shower... but the excuses don't end, and at the end of the day that old fella is going to be crushed if I don't get off my arse and read the damned book!

It's self published and the writing and editing isn't that great at times. But - there is a pile of history and people whose voices I never would have heard if it weren't for this book. I not only heard the voices of Ed's long departed family and friends - I heard the voices of my own people echoed in the adventures of Ed's folks. When I was a kid there were still a lot of old Alberta pioneers around. We took them for granted but as time wore on and they passed on... one day I just sorta accepted the fact that times had moved on and we would never see their like again.

Buthere, right under my nose... is a real, breathing Alberta pioneer! What an ass I have been. I'm chewing my way through it and loving it. The families live on sprawling homesteads. The kids go to school in one room school houses. On good days the teacher or janitor got in early and stoked up the coal stoves, and they can take their coats off. Families go west to seek their fortunes in farming - and step off the train station platform in Oxford shoes - into two feet of snow, with not another house in sight. When I was a kid I was lectured by my grandparents about how they went to school in the middle of winter during blinding snow storms, uphill both ways, hopping from cow pie to cow pie to keep their feet warm - and it drove me nuts. These same stories now - they're like a tall, cool glass of water on a hot day. Good heavans...I have nothing to offer Ed in exchange!

Or maybe I do. I am going to see if he does email and if he does - I am going to send him a link to Old Alberta. I think he'll like it. I hope he does, anyways.

Further To My Post About Pan-Lubing Cast Lead Bullets

Bird Watching

I'm thinking Barry and his wife get that a lot, Vlad...

Retard School Gun Club

When I was a kid I used to look after a bunch a remote, automated air monitoring stations located in and around the rural and back country places of Alberta. They were usually housed in those little industrial ATCO trailers and sampled ambient levels of H2S, sulphate compounds and other industrial pollutants. They also recorded wind speed and direction and none of 'em ever worked. I literally lived in a half ton truck driving from one end of the province to the other downloading the data - there was no internet then - and struggling with the infernal instruments to make them work.

The air analyzers were fed a constant stream of outside air by tiny compressors that drew the air in and pushed it through the analyzers - and then vented back outside. I got called to a station down in BW Bandy country near Bodo, AB. It's flat as a board there and it used to be home to one of my most hated stations. The fuggin machines there NEVER worked and I was in there at least three times a month fixing the damned things. (This was all super-high tech stuff back in the 90's).

In any event I showed up to see what it was THIS time and found all the analyzer off line. Typical. So I started trouble shooting the plumbing and soon found that there was no airflow or suction at the air intake. So I traced it back to the exhaust and knew it had to be frozen or bunged up - so I started slapping the plastic line against a counter top to break the ice inside the line and blow it out. No dice. I wrapped my hands around it, trying to warm it up and maybe melt some of the ice to blow it out. Forget it! In consternation  I looked down that rubber hose - but couldn't see anything. WTF? Idly I slapped the line in my hand as I thought - and the slug of ice let go and shot me right in the palm - and I did the same  hideous Dance Of Pain that kid in the GIF did! Jeez, that hurt!

After the pain subsided I thought back and realized that I had been looking straight down the bore of that sample line and had it let go then... I probably would have lost an eye. One seldom thinks about it - but there are times when Darwin and Murphy show incredible restraint.

Sunday, 26 February 2017

The Forces Of Evil And The EZ Bake Oven

It's nap time for the other retards here at Uncle Bob's School For Wayward Boys And Reprobates. And - while my fellow students nap and dream of whatever... I am wide awake turning their beloved EZ Bake Oven to the Forces Of Evil:

That's bullet lube slowly melting on WL's cookie dish! While the good kids generally use the oven to make cupcakes n' cookies and pastries - I use it for recreational destruction! I would melt lead on it too but the fumes could hurt me personally so I do  that outside. But - if it was only them that had to worry about lead poisoning I would do it in a heart beat!  :) :)

Can't remember the exact recipe... something like beeswax, furniture polish and Vaseline all stirred up and heated. When it's fully liquid I put the bullets in.

The mess will solidify once it cools and I'll just pluck the bullets out with a pair of needle nose pliers - and I'll be ready for the reloading bench! I made these bullets entirely by myself! I mixed the metals and alloyed them, I poured the melt into bullet moulds, and now they'll be lubed and ready to shoot for pennies apiece!

And the boys will be none the wiser! Only I will know the real reason their cupcakes and cookies tast like paraffin, HAR HAR HAR!!!

If you want to know more about cast lead bullets, and bullet lube, my buddy
Larry at Midway shows ya how responsible
adults do it safely without poisoning their friends.

A Picture's Worth A Thousand Words

When I was a kid in the 70's women were starting to move away from traditional gender roles and into areas typically dominated by men. At the time we heard all kinds of claims: women handled stress better than men, women reacted faster than men, women made better snap decisions than men, were medically sturdier than men, women were better team builders than men, blah blah blah. And of course today we still parrot all that in spite of the obese chubsters, the batshit crazy hags on antidepressants, the lonely cat ladies, and the burnt out derelicts that hit that glass ceiling a little harder than they intended on the way up. But none of us ever said anything to any of that bullshit in the 70's because we loved our women and thought they loved us.

I don't spend much time at Dalrock's. The place is a psych ward full of women haters and the walking wounded that result from destroyed families and failed marriages. Men are hard wired at the genetic level to at least feel responsible for their families and when they self destruct, men naturally all feel responsible on one level or another. I know I did for years. Over the last half decade I started having serious problems with pretty much all the women in my family. I was at a loss: what in hell had I done to stir up all this shit? Most of it was irrational crap that bordered on childishness and I bent over backward to accommodate and keep my mouth shut. I couldn't for the life of me figure it out! I knew what was going on but I couldn't articulate it. Now I think I can.

Most of the women in my family were complete and utter assholes. My mother is a shitlib with a ropey mouth. She always was but now she's worse than ever in her old age. Liberals whine about people with closed minds and good lord ... some of 'em need a long, hard look in the mirror. She never questions herself. She's always right. My daughter is a militant gay lesbian hipster that thinks having to grow up is an aspect of toxic patriarchy or homophobic fascism. She's probably the biggest of the assholes in my family. My mother in law is a close second. Like my own mother, she is always right and she dominates the men in her family and most of them defer to her but secretly despise her. Back when my father in law and I still spoke, he let it slip a few times that he wished he'd never married her. I felt sorry for him but perplexed - every time that old bat issued an order he jumped and he never had the balls to stand up to her.

"Do as I say or I'll blow up the family"
- Dalrock
I would modify that. More like "Do as I say, or I'll blow up
the family and blame you for it."

This pic, in a nutshell, is pretty much how most modern empowered women "lead". Such women can't tell the difference between leadership and 'being an asshole'. I'm sorry - but there's no nice way to say it.

That pic is such an apt metaphor for what happened in my family: like most militant lesbian social justice warriors - my daughter is an asshole too. I know it's a horrible thing for a father to say about his daughter... and it took me years to admit it. The concept leaves the taste of chit in my mouth and it is psychologically easier for me to think that I am the arsehole, not her... but it is what it is and there's no way around it. She jumped on that TNT fuse box with both feet and the explosion caught me totally by surprise. I was dumbfounded as half my family evaporated overnight. Then for the next couple years my mother in law started tapping her fingers lightly on that fusebox handle and she made no bones about being willing to do what my daughter had done. After a couple years of that I finally got fed up with the bullshit, clamped my hand down over hers on that plunger - and pushed it down and held her hand to it all the way down. Then my own mother flirted with it too! I basically spelled it out for her: "you saw what happened to the other two stunned cnuts that did that - do you want to go down this road too?" Mom, at least, was smart enough to back away and I love her for it. It must have taken an extraordinary amount of self control for a lifelong liberal woman to do that. She changed her attitude and the subject in the blink of an eye like such women do and we never spoke of it again so she could 'save some face', as the orientals like to say it. I understand that too, I know how pride works and everyone must have at least some... but it has to be tempered with humility too. As long as everyone keeps their hands where everyone else can see 'em... we'll get along fine. I am not an asshole. (Well, scratch that, I am... but not in the way low women would think, HAR HAR HAR!).

Where do women come up with this shit anyways? Even when it comes to queers I don't want to harass them or hurt them - I just want them to be civil and courteous in return. But no - that makes me a homophobe by some people's logic. There will be no long, protracted 'war of the sexes' in my family ever again. If a woman is dumb enough to bring TNT to a minor gun fight, I am bringing nukes and that will be the end of it - for everyone concerned.

The second things get this bad the family has already had it. Your mileage (and marriage?) may vary. As for me... I lucked out. My Mom is smart enough to know when people are at the end of their patience... and my wife is an old world woman who only wants everyone to get along but has to concede a few of the same ugly truths I do.

Women have lost sight of the fact that respect can only be earned, never demanded. Those that earn it are happy, well adjusted people that don't have to threaten anyone, they just quietly say what they want and us fellas will jump to it! As for the harridans, hags and whores...? That Karmic Wheel goes round and I suspect a lot of modern women are finding themselves getting crushed under it - I have no sympathy either. They earned it the same way stupid men do and they have it coming to them.

Keep yer stick on the ice and your eye on the puck, boys n' girls. And have a great Sunday.


I could do that in an Army tank.

Saturday, 25 February 2017

When Fairy Tales Go Horribly Wrong

Apparently cartoons like this are called 'Quibcags' and I'm too dumb to figure out how that name was derived. I dunno what it is about this one, but when I saw it over at Baloo's it had me LOLing. Baloo has been hanging around Uncle Bob and I think the old reprobate is a bad influence on him.

Shades Of Pa Filthie

When I was a kid my Dad was a big wheel in hobby farm country. That was because he had a mint condition 1964 3 cylinder diesel Massey Ferguson tractor with a full blown front end loader and a three point hitch.

The neighbours up the road raised registered Appaloosa horses and since Pop and I wanted one a deal was struck - we would fence one of their horse pastures in exchange for a foal scheduled to drop next spring.

Pop always paid up front, on time or better yet, ahead of time and I was enslaved to make sure we kept that family tradition intact at all costs. Summer was busy and we had to get done fast because we had a crop of hay coming off in a mere few weeks. We had to knock down the old barb wire fence and put in a new one. Getting the old rusty wire off and coiled was pretty easy and only cost me a few gallons of blood - and Pop took care of the posts. He had that almighty '64 MF tractor and all he did was run at the old rotting posts with the bucket down and snap 'em off like tooth pics. He put 'er in 2 high, eased out the clutch and then boogied along with nary a care in the world! Crack! Snap! Crunch! The old posts broke and were flung aside and I drove along behind and picked them up and threw them in the back of the truck .

I didn't see it... but I heard it. "Crack! Snap! Pop! Crunch! BOOOOOOM!!!!" Pop had stalled the Mighty Massey Ferguson - by hitting a mighty post that wasn't dry and rotten! "Son of a..." Pop trailed off. I told him to get a chain on it and we'd pull it with the front end loader - and Pop told me to stifle myself. "That boar is going down, Glen! Watch this...!"

He started up, backed up about 100 yards, reved the Mighty MF - and let 'er rip! He doubled clutched through all the gears and hit top end just in time to meet the post!


Pop hit that post again but that sucker refused to budge and shut both him and the Mighty MF down in spades. The proud little tractor wasn't even fazed by the impact - but Pop was headed over the front cowl when his hips caught on the steering wheel and he was slammed face down on top of the front end! His cigarette was munched into his face and even I could see the tweety birds and stars swimming around his head.

Filthie's Law states that all fathers are ass holes and my Dad was no exception. I am still mad to this day that he sold that stout little tractor for a bigger and flashier Case. It is my contention that any tractor that can shrug off TWO high speed impacts without even a dent - is definitely a keeper.

Find 10 Things YOU Like About Black People

For Gavin it's no sweat. Oh wait - this is edgy stuff amongst the media fags. Let me show ya how it's done Gavin!

For me, I would have to insist on a definition of terms. Are we talking about niggers, or black people? There is a difference and I don't give a chit about who gets offended by it. But getting back to Gavin's list.

  1. Well they also sing and dance pretty good too, Gavin. I know he's writing with a heavy dose of sarcasm but really - if you want dirty conversations with a fella with an above average IQ, I know any number of white people that will be happy to oblige starting with Yours Truly! (None of 'em are libtards).
  2. Rap music sucks cack and if you listen to it and like it - you probly do too!
  3. Pbbbfbfbfffffft. Our own Bohunks (Ukranians) eat better AND have a sense of humour WITHOUT the violence and crime.
  4. Oh, sure. Sure they do, Gavin. Jus' check da treads on Tyrone here...
  5. If ya had an IQ ABOVE 85 ya might wanna check out an RRSP...
  6. That's probly because half of them have warrants out for them...
  7. It's called 'tribalism' Gavin.
  8. True, dat.
  9. If by entrepreneur you mean con - sure.
  10. See number 7, Gavin.
I'll say it. As a group I hate blacks and would never live among them. Neither would most of the people that would call me a racist for saying so. Scold me after you've lived next door to Somalies and Haitians, bub.

When I was a kid we were raised on the multi-culti pipe dream. It was pushed at us 24/7 and even as a kid I thought it was a crock of chit. The female teachers had a bird when I called my classmates packies, chinks n' niggers. As kids names like that meant nothing because most of us had nicknames like Dink, Shitty, Bag Biter, etc. Why - if your nickname WASN'T offensive you were hurt! The male teachers I had overlooked our foul mouths unless some bint was around forcing them to punish speech crime. Otherwise they smirked or rolled their eyes and ignored it.

I spent a lot of time at the office getting in shit.

But I'll tell you this - for the vast majority of teachers, I had ABSOLUTELY no respect and now as an adult - I have even less. I know what their gig is: for the vast majority it's one of the unionized pooch-screwer posing as an 'educator'.  If any of those morons had half a brain, they would leave the kids with their offensive hate speech provided they all got along and learned their lessons.

But political correctness empowers stupid people, liberals and teachers so fat chance of that happening.

For my own racist self - I'll take my black people one at a time and hate whoever I want.

Filthie's Gunsmithing Inc.

Not a problem. Behold the Gorges Grouse Gun

Last week on the trap range Gorges Grouse stunk the place out with his marksmanship. Being an expert marksman myself I concluded that his shotgun was choked a little tighter than I liked which was costing him on the scoreboard. I figured he would pick up a few clays if we opened that choke up a bit and between us - we invented a new shotgun choke that we call 'Disproved Cylinder'.

Might have opened it up a little TOO much; this morning he shot the guys on either side of him on the firing line and didn't get ANY birds!

The R&D continues apace.

Friday, 24 February 2017

And - While We're Picking On Chicken Mom...

Friday Night Steam Canadian Style

Father Of The Year

What The Happiest Woman In The World Looks like

Hey, does the DHS do Canada too? They're the guys with the black choppers and the fellas in the bomb suits and HAZMAT suits that show up when aliens from outer space land on earth, right?

I sometimes check on my daughter and her love partner by lurking at some of the internet sites they do. I don't do it often, usually it makes me want to either barf or weep at the depths to which they've fallen. It's like they're drowning in the bottom of a pool of toxic waste - and they're down too far for me to reach and grab 'em out without falling in myself. I shouldn't do it, it's painful as I try to fathom the light years between us.

Behold: What the happiest woman in the world looks like.

I woulda figgered the happiest woman in the world would be someone like Chicken Mom torturing the birds, or maybe Mom scribbling about her preps and daily doings. But no - this Seattle University graduate, this Cis female pluviophile sets us all right!

Thar she blows sits. Morbidly obese, stuffing her face
with fruits n' pastries amidst smelly cats.
Envy her, ye black hearted patriarchs!

"I spend no small amount of time looking at paintings unhappy women in Western art. Women pursued by undesirable men, women forced to listen to lute-players in an enclosed space, women trapped in a web of inescapable male conversation, women desperate for the release only death can bring them."



This is my militant lesbian daughter's crowd. How do you even relate to somebody like that? We have an entire generation of toxic, feral women growing up like exactly like this. Where does this shit come from? This bile and venom? They number in the tens of millions. And the rest of us go silent as church mice when clot headed cnuts like Ashley Judd wear vagina-hats and publicly, angrily protest - errr....what, exactly? I'm sorry ladies but it has to be said, and there's no nice way to say it to the young women involved: Fuck you.

I hate to break it to these misguided young women, but the vast majority of these types are undesirable women too. Any man of any worth won't give train wrecks like that a second glance. I suppose it's the chicken and egg argument: do women become gay because they can't attract a man, or are they born that way and drive men away with their repulsive personalities and appearances? To even ask the question qualifies as a hate crime in places.

I ask again - how do you relate to somebody like this? I woulda looked at that painting and said "It's a fat chick stuffing her face at a picnic." Then I woulda been set on fire by a horde of offended, disgruntled lesbians,  and launched off a catapault! These are some seriously messed up people but to say so is verboten.

And THIS is the portrait of the world's
most disgusted father.
Watching his 30-something daughter refusing to grow up
or take responsibility, indifferently scratching his
balls as screeching, sexually disturbed
women list all his faults, real and imagined,
in excruciating detail. 

I used to lie awake at nights wondering "How do I fix this? How did I break it? That's MY kid, her sins are MY sins...".  It took me YEARS to finally tell that shaggy ape in the mirror that there's nothing you can do. From here on out the Battle Of The Sexes is going to be nothing but battles won and wars lost. My war was lost long ago and the bitterness is fading one day at a time. There's some good things about losing family feuds. When ya go down to defeat, the terms and conditions of it are clear and concise and graved in stone - all you gotta do is come to terms with them. To the victors? They have to be seriously wondering just exactly what it is they 'won'... and was it worth it? Once maturity if forced on them by Darwin and Murphy I suspect they will come to the same answers I did. Or maybe not - who knows how those people think?

Bah! Sorry to be a downer everyone. I'm just bitter and twisted because we have inventory tomorrow and I get to count nuts and bolts and springs all day until I'm fuggin cross-eyed. I hope YOU have a great weekend lined up - go out and DO something with the missus and the family.

Do something FUN.

Thursday, 23 February 2017

A Manly Business Day

Ahhhhhhhhh. Days like today are one of the life's great pleasures and makes me thankful for being a man.

Yesterday was a complete chit burger - I pulled into the office in the morning and my new manager that I've been fighting with and training - is just fed up with the owners and the bullchit of the job and I don't blame him. Like many men that spend too much time behind a desk, he is hung up on procedure and methods - and that is totally understandable, they have to be in place for a business to run - but he goes nuts when I and the senior management leap outside the box to get a job done. When I dispense with the rule book it often means extra work for him. As gently as I could I told him that the idea was to make a buck.... not make sure his paper work was all teed up, nice and neat for the bean counters. Now the comptroller back east hates him almost as much as he hates me and nobody needs enemies like that! I see his point entirely and I told him flat out that if he was to start developing an ulcer or start having strokes on the job, I would fire him and no bones about it! Poor Al - he tried to smile. He needs more help but he's so damn picky he doesn't like any of the resumes he's getting. I dunno what to tell him. Then the outside salesman came in, in the afternoon, and one of my idiot customers is trying to poach him from us. I just threw my hands up in despair - guys gotta do what's good for them, and after our idiot national sales manager blew through here last week and shat on everyone for doing a superlative job - it's no wonder people are looking. I probly should be too.

This morning Rotten Rod the gunsmith called and said the Retirement Rifle was ready - I just had some precision Vernier Soule Sights mounted so that I can pop Yankees, buffalo, injuns and other game animals at long distance! HAR HAR HAR! Okay, I lied - I will almost certainly be shooting steel or paper targets with it.

There she is.

Rotten Rod is a creepy old man to look at. He's got a mouth on him that can set water on fire too - and I just worship the man. His dingy shop is PACKED with the precision machine tools and when I go in there we exchange the obligatory insults - and then start talking about the best things. I even quoted him on some cutting tools and he called me names - but will keep me in mind.

Then he was b*tching about how he had run out of snoose. I used to chew Copenhagen when I was a kid and quit about 15 years ago to graduate to cigars - and then quit everything about 8 years ago. I was absolutely stunned - did you know a tin of snoose is going for $25.00 now...?!?!? HFS!!!! "Rod," I said, "How do you afford to buy this chit? I love it too but got tired of being anally raped when it was at $8.00 per tin! 25 bucks???? WTF????"

Rod just lit up - "I got a wrinkle, Filthie!" It turns out he gets his snoose from Scandihoovia or some such place and the country of orign allows him to bring it in under the radar without tariffs and such.  It's apparently better snoose, and he only pays $15.00 (including shipping) a tin for it... it's called "Odin" and is a much finer grind than Copenhagen and has an elevated nicotine content. He passed the tin over and I smelled it - and it was heaven. I would have loved to have dug in and chawed up like I did when I was a kid... but I'm too smart to get addicted to tobacco ever again. Reluctantly, I passed it back. Some gubbermint turdie will find out about Rotten Rod's Wrinkle eventually and shut it down - but for now, Rod is chewing on borrowed time, HAR HAR HAR!

Since when did snoose start costing $25.00 a tin?!?!
Fuggin liberals - no wonder tobacco theft is the crime that
it is in Canada!
And - good grief!!! PLASTIC tins???
Somebody should be shot for that...

Then we have another project rifle to do. I bought a Uberti 1876 Centennial Rifle in the obsolete .45-75 cartridge (not a typo - .45-75, not .45-70). I bought it off some shit head on the Canadian Gunnutz and he sold me the gun with a botched trigger job - without saying so up front. For years I have been trying to buy a replacement hammer for it without success - but this morning, out of the blue - the boys at Taylor's down in the US got one in and now it's on it's way up to me! Woo hoooooo!!!! I will have Rotten Rod put a Soule sight on it too.

One would think this gun to be an American thing - it is called The Centennial Rifle after all - but not many people realize that the Canadian RCMP were using a carbine variant of this gun back at the turn of the century. I am probably one of less than a dozen people in Canada that has a good supply of brass for this obsolete old girl. If you can get it, it goes for around $80.00 for 20 brass - if you can find it. I have about 200 of them and stoking this dreamboat with black powder...they should last me a long, long time.

Before I knew it my &^%$@ cell phone was going and I had to take my rifle and go. If I win a million dollars on 649... I will friggin QUIT my job with the other two stooges and go to work for Rotten Rod for $5.00/hour just to play with the machines.

Funny how a visit with real men, discussing real matters - refreshes the soul and brightens the outlook. All I know is that it made my day! Keep your hands, jokes and mind dirty, and your rifles clean, boys.

When God Is Needed More Than Ever

I'm not a particularly religious man. I know there is a God in only the most rudimentary way: Somebody had to light the fuse on the Big Bang. Anyone who has been there for the birth of his child or for the passing of a loved one has to feel something of God or whatever ya wanna call Him. For most of us, that 'Do Unto Others' thing is strictly enforced: if you go round crapping on people, sooner or later (more often, the former) - life finds a way to crap on YOU. And it serves ya right too. If you survive, Darwin comes to your rescue and you would hopefully learn from the experience.

I dunno if this is fake or not. I have my doubts, but we DO have an understanding of genetics that is expanded by orders of magnitude every couple of years; the human genome has been mapped forward and backwards and now all that remains is identifying which genes manifest themselves in certain physical traits and behaviours. Things can get shady when we speak of an organism's behaviour... in some cases all we know for sure is that certain genetics will tend to produce certain behaviours in the organism's next generation. (I like Scott, he was predicting a Trump win back when only loons like Uncle Bob were predicting such an event). But like most real intellectuals - he is entirely capable of missing stuff that is intuitively obvious to simple men like me.

"Science keeps discovering new buttons on the user interface for humans. Many of us are already chemical cyborgs, with personalities that come from big pharma and not our own DNA."

Hey, Scott? Who is the User in this case? We are playing with fire here - when we humans start monkeying with that 'user interface' a cyborg is actually one of our better results. We turn perfectly good humans into monsters with drugs every day. I am no saint in this regard; I have done so too with a bottle of scotch round the campfire. I have never been seriously hurt by booze, unlike some... but it hasn't done me any favours either. I treat the stuff with respect for the most part. The argument can be made that monkeying with that User Interface can improve a person by turning him into a cyborg or zombie and there is merit in it. Such is the case with many mental illnesses. My intent is not to push religion at anyone, but for my two cents there is only one other Being in this universe that has any business playing with that User Interface, and other than the most extreme cases - that Interface is best left to Him. That's all I'll say about that.

"By the way, what most defines you as an individual? It isn’t your body, because your cells have died and been replaced many times, yet you are the same person. And you aren’t the sum of your knowledge, because that has changed since you were a baby, yet you are the same person."

Scott thinks your preferences define you. I would say it's the soul but that's just me. Souls can't be perceived by men like Scott, who believe that perception is reality. (How can otherwise intelligent men believe such claptrap? In high concentrations, you won't perceive H2S and it will kill you before you realize what's happening - and to hell with your 'preferences').

Can you hear them? The Usual Suspects will jump up and down, clap their pudgy little hands in glee and claim we should be all over this, religion has never done anything good for anyone except cause wars! Well, you hairless monkeys, you tool-using super apes... what else does that particular button on the User Interface do? If it suppresses your religiosity, might it not suppress other elements of your preferences too? Like your sense of right and wrong? As Scott's commenters point out - if religion goes out the window, chances are Warble Gloaming, the Gay Agenda and half a dozen other sacred cows go to the crematorium with it, HAR HAR HAR!

If that doesn't dissuade the Usual Suspects from acting rashly, I might point out that several years back scientists thought they had isolated 'the gay gene' too. When talk turned to 'curing homosexuality' the whole thing disappeared down the memory hole like it never existed. The moslems  would probly appreciate such a cure - then they wouldn't have to throw so many otherwise good people of the tops of tall buildings, right?

So? Go ahead, you simian simpletons, you buggardly blue bummed baboons - push that button and see what it does!

And may God have mercy on us all.

The author expresses his intense displeasure
with this unsavoury topic

Wednesday, 22 February 2017

Filthie's Hump Day Honky Tonk

I just love this tune. For me it evokes memories of the best westerns around - the so-called Spaghetti Westerns! The Good Guys were pure as the driven snow, the Bad Guys were black hearted SOB's and sinners and even simps like Yours Truly knew which was which!

Did Ray go blind drinking aviation grade Purple X at Filthie's Speakeasy?
Nope, sorry - that was Quartermain that did that...

By way of contrasting a beautiful song with a horrible one: Ladies and gentlemen - please welcome the Blues Brothers!

Okay so tell me: am I nuts? In the first few seconds I'm
pretty sure I saw Chicken Mom and her hubby enjoying the music.
At 17 seconds - tell me that's not Wirecutter.
Pretty sure I recognized a few of the drunkards in the crowd too!

Maybe we can ask BW to take the scoot south this summer and grab us some autographs! :)

Falls Are Serious Business For Hale And Hearty Young Men Too

Awhile back, Pop took a spill while out with the dog. He's in his mid 70's and a fall at that age is no laughing matter the way it is with ruggedly handsome young men like us! The old bugger was black and blue and red all over from a simple face plant! I gave him supreme shit for it but he just sat and smirked. Perhaps he was tickled by the way sons show love for their fathers. Perhaps he was revelling in the role reversal - when I was a kid he had kiniptions with my early attempts at flight, tree climbing, etc.

So yesterday I was out on Dawn Dawg Patrol when I slipped on a patch of glaze ice and landed on gracelessly my arse! I woulda been fine but the next thing I know, Mort is shoving his snout in my face and Macy's on the other side sniffling and blowing in my ear and I can't even get up because the damned dawgs are in my face checking me over! Not one - but TWO snotty, moist dog noses! GAH! After that, all the way home, they walked on egg shells with exaggerated care to make sure they didn't pull me off balance and make me fall again.

When we got home Mort wouldn't leave my side and I had to pet him and tell him I was alright and to buzz off and leave me alone. I wonder if those two turd factories were actually concerned about me out of love and care - or just checking over an essential piece of kit for their Patrols. Macey knew I was alright within minutes, and she has an incredible vocabulary and smarts for a dog. She's a collie/alley cat mixed breed that is the smartest dog I've ever known. By contrast, Mort is a few IQ points south of the Polar Bear in the pic above. (He looks alot like that galoot too). He's probly the DUMBEST dog I've ever met but he makes up for it in heart. Maybe Macey regards me as an expendable piece of equipment and Mort loves me? It would certainly back up my hypothesis about their respective intellects...

In any event, you oldsters - go walk indoors at the mall or the gym and you younger fellas - if ya have small dogs, make sure they are out front so ya don't accidentally fall on 'em. 'Tis the season for painful comedy and hilarity...

One Of The Finest Blogging Minds Is Back

No, I am not talking about Chicken Mom, BW Bandy or Uncle Bob - although you would be correct to suspect it - but Kim du Toit.

He's one of those rare men that when confronted with leftist political snark - can give it right back to them without profanity and cut them off at the knees. He is certainly a complex man and a deep thinker that often shares his doings and life events with others. Right now he's coping with the recent loss of his wife - and by all accounts he'll be alright. He has a strength of character that I deeply envy. I used to read his stuff regularly until he quit blogging about ten years ago. Apparently he's back in the game and it's good to see him.

He is one of the blogging Big Guns and he's going up on the Toilet Roll as soon as I find the time.

Tuesday, 21 February 2017

The Filthie Critic VS The Great Wall

I have no taste in movies. Let's just get that clear up front! BCF has the obvious political slant of the show down pat; one has to expect the usual Hollywood BS when the cast is stuffed to the rafters with chinks and the hero is a flimp like Matt Damon, HAR HAR HAR!!! HAR HAR HAR!!!

Typical of the gender challenged Hollyweird producers, all the womyn in the show were beautiful kick-ass empowered females.
The plot redeems itself when most of them get eaten by the monsters.

I admit it. I barfed on some of the vertigo
inducing scenes.

Yannow ya can really get hung up on Hollywood politics - or ya can just sit back, ignore
the subliminal leftist bullshit - and enjoy a good old fashioned CLEAN movie. I am not a prude - but these days, making a movie the whole family can watch that engages them is pretty darn tough. It's probly a renter for most but I was glad to see it in the theatre. It was a good way to get out of the house and make the wife happy.  :)

3.5 fingers out of 5!

Bringing A Bazooka To A Food Fight

Right now everything is funnier than hell. The media hisses and spits at Trump and his cheerleaders – and then the facts smack them right in the gob like a pie thrown at a food fight! Right now they are claiming that Milo Yabbadabbadopolis or whatever his name is – is a kiddie diddler. His cheerleaders like Vox Day are claiming he’s not and are saying that the self proclaimed ‘Dangerous Faggot’ was actually raped as a teen, and how dare those media slobs fling mud at a queer AND a childhood rape victim?!?! What a diseased society, when only faggots can stand up to pedos in a politically correct way? And who knows what the truth is, amidst this ideological shower of shit? I admit, I liked watching him make liberals’ heads explode and then play the ‘gay card’ on them when they wanted to erupt… but we shouldn’t even be having this argument. The fuggin gays are degenerates – never mind the pedos. Our leftist friends really need to start asking their media and themselves some really tough questions. I held my tongue – or at least, my temper – when the queers came prancing out of the closet. But if the libs think they are gonna mainstream pedophilia – jeebers folks, we really, really need to think about that.

Uncle Bob has a good one up about how the media didn’t make Trump – so they can’t take him down and it is driving them nuts. He thinks they are nothing but a joke now – and I disagree. They are still reaching a lot of people, they are actively ginning up hate and focusing it square on Trump and anyone that supports him. The kids aren’t going out to ‘protest’ anymore – they are taking out spiked baseball bats and edged weapons and they are trashing public and private property now. I can tell you with 100% certainty that if they came after me or mine – or my property – there would be shots fired and somebody would be going to the morgue.

I think the media still has the power to tear the country apart and I think they are dumb enough to use it. The NYT the Globe & Mail, and all the other liberal shit rags wouldn’t sell if there weren’t an audience. The niggers are ready for a race war right now. The beaners are carving out chunks of America and will get nasty if they are denied their place at the welfare trough. The socialists think it is their right to tax and spend without oversight to feed these monsters their free lunch. There’s a lot of white people getting sick and tired of forking over cash to appease victim groups that always need more money and handouts for appeasement.

There plenty of tinder and dry wood. All it needs is a match. Newspapers have always been great for getting a fire going. It's all fun and games until the heavy weapons come out...

Monday, 20 February 2017

Via Dirty Dave

Needless to say, Valentines Day didn't go well for him...

The Retirement Rifle Accouterments

A precision Lee Shaver Soule Mid Range ironsight.
Soon I will be dumping buffalo, Yankees, and injuns from distances
exceeding 30 paces.

A cheap Lee  bullet mould, hopefully
throwing Postell 500 gr. bullets

As my favourite You-Tubing Texan likes to say: "Life is good!"

Moooooom!!! The Mohave Rat Is Committing Suicide Again!!!!!

She's been a tough weekend round here.

Yesterday I went out to the range to take a crack at some long range pistol work. It was warm out so I grabbed my cap n' ball revolver (1860 Army repro) - and headed out. I was only shooting at 50m but things went wrong right from the start! I had nothing but misfires and had to drop the hammer on a couple caps twice before they went off! But....lordy, that little gun can shoot. I had a four inch group going but decided to shut the gun down and take it home to clean it right out before shooting it anymore. Might have a weaked hammer spring or something.

Last night the wife made roast and potatoes and I lost control and gobbled myself into a food-coma. I couldn't  stay awake and went to bed early and then started farting like a mule around 11:00. Poor Macey got so disgusted she had to sleep downstairs with Mort and I think my wife died! (A dawg's sense of smell can be both a blessing and a curse I suppose). Then around three I cut a ripper so bad it woke ME up and now, because I went to bed early...I can't get back to sleep! Oh well, I'll just have to have a nap in the afternoon - because it's a long weekend up here in Canada!

So I am half in this world, half in the next as I turn on the computer - bluuurrrrrrgghhh - to find that The Mohave Rat has crapped in the comments up and down and all around! (He must have gotten into the meat and potatoes too). So I went into the blog thingamajig to try and delete his chit - and accidentally deleted a bunch of the comments from the sane visitors too! Sorry about that folks. In my own defense I was half asleep when I did it. As always, your input is sincerely appreciated and we appreciate your stopping by.

Apparently I ruined Rat's life about 3 weeks back when I left a bit of helpful, constructive criticism in the comments of one of his dumber posts. Everything went downhill after that, some folks started leaving other comments for him about 'taking his meds before posting' and the old bastid got so offended - he decided to learn everyone a good lesson by committing suicide! Again.

I know. I KNOW, alright?!?!? Sheeesh!!! I know I shouldn't laugh but I suppose that this is just yet another example of how men age better than women. When men get old and stupid they become the masters of high comedy:

Red Foxx was also a master of the theatrical dramatic exit.

When women get old and stupid, they... they.... errrr....

GAH! Where was I, and how did I get sidetracked down this unsavoury avenue of discussion? Old men ramble too.

Ah, yes! Comments! The comments are being censored moderated. For now. Rat's done this before: he posts something stupid, his readers call him on it or un-follow him, he gets mad at the world and goes off line... and then comes back when his meds kick in or he can't stifle himself anymore and has to pull down his pants in public to get the attention he craves, HAR HAR HAR!

Sorry again for the inconvenience, folks. Please do drop me a line if you're so inclined.

Sunday, 19 February 2017

Via Rodger Schlong

Seems like Rodge is doing an unsolicited free plug for Filthie's Speakeasy. I'm STILL mad about it. The guy says all that and then about three numbnutted customers stand up, dump the mags on their guns and pass 'em over!

All I know is I ain't cleaning it up! HAR HAR HAR!

Saturday, 18 February 2017

There Goes $22,000.00...

What's $22k Canadian? $7.23 American?

My beloved pronounces her approval of my
new mobile forest deployment unit.

I must have rocks in my head. I done it. It's got a microwave, a cheezy little sink and a propane stove which is massive overkill for us considering we've always tented it. Heated mattresses, two propane bottles, two batteries and a fridge. Underneath the beds is a storage unit with a chemical toilet. I am going to pull that out and put it beside the steps. I can hardly wait: I will pull into the Mohave Rat's yard in the middle of the night, silently set up camp and in the morning, the old fart will wake up to look out the window and see me taking my ease on the plastic crapper, grunting and farting and reading a newspaper - in his front yard! HAR HAR HAR!!!! HAR HAR HAR!!! His old lady will shriek in fright!!!  :) :) :)  Does anyone know how those things work? I suppose when I fill it I will just pour it out in Rat's flower beds when it's time for me to move on. Fertilizer dontchya know.

Up front is a cargo compartment that will house my
camp chair, booze and assault rifles.

When I am not being a prick in the USA I will just cruise the gun club circuit, dropping in to shoot at some of the tournaments and maybe just watching and heckling at the others. I tried to beat up the salesman but hell's bells, they don't dicker or haggle at all anymore. Don't like it Filthie? Piss off! Getting a free deep cycle battery thrown in was like pulling teeth.

I just gagged on the price but good grief, people were in there signing on the dotted line in DROVES for the BIG units costing near or even well over $100k. Couldn't believe the number of kids in there...where do they get the money? They have to be going into debt on a stellar scale. I think it's harder to piss away big gobs of cash when ya have to pay up front and look at it go. Financing 'sanitizes' debt and if yer dumb enough you can forget what your signing on for. Then it's Ramen noodles and Kraft Dinner until the accounts square.

I'm still in shock over actually doing this. I am ordinarily cheap a tightwad careful with my money and I need to get back in the habit again. Fortunately I LIKE Kraft Dinner and Ramen noodles and it's high time I started brewing and drinking my own beer again. I only did this because about 15 years ago I finally bought an ATV. Those things are awesome if your a kid ... but the thrill goes out of them the older and the grumpier you get. I waited too long and should have bought one much sooner than I actually did. I may have waited to long on this toy too...we'll see.

With luck I will be submitting photos for CW's Friday Open road this year.

Cold weather camping, Slim Potatohead Style:

Friday, 17 February 2017

Advice? I'll Give You Some Advice, You Little Shit

I admit it. I read Return Of Kings. It leaves me feeling foolish - for women it would be like admitting them reading those trashy, idiotic tabloids about movie stars they sell in the super market at the checkout - the ones that push diets where you can eat cake and pastries and lose 30 lbs. in 30 days. I like the comedy of RoK. More intelligent older men like Unca Bob would snort in disgust at the mere mention of this cornerstone of the so-called Manosphere and I can see e of his side of things.

Occasionally the comedy over there gets dark... and sometimes tragic. This is exactly the stuff that old farts like Uncle Bob needs to read. This is the world our sons live in. This is why they don't own homes, and this is why they don't get married or have families. This is why they live in their parents' basements. I don't blame 'em. I am caught exactly half way between their world and that of the Boomers. I like how this kid assumes that his elders live the high life, and that things only got difficult for the men of his generation. Well kid... I grew up in the midst of all that, and I can tell ya - it wasn't easy at times. In fact, it was damned difficult for us too.

Depending on who defines the terms, I am either a leading edge Gen X kid, or a tail end Baby Boomer, born in 1964. I became a father in 1985. There were still traces of the Old World around - my grandparents were still alive, most of the couples in our social circles were still married although the spectre of rampant frivolous divorce was well underway. Corporal Klinger was still a joke rather than a role model, and women were still pretty much women and men were still pretty much men. Queers were degenerate perverts just as they are today but we could be honest about such things back then and say so. But the world was changing - and fast. At the time we had no idea how much things would change or what the consequences would look like. My elders did - but who listens to old geezers? They don't know anything, right?

My brother got divorced in the early 1990's. He was devastated. His young, attractive wife was not happy with the idea of motherhood and wanted it all - a career, kids and a rich husband. Big Bro took that hit solidly amidships and though he's still afloat I can still see the scars it left on him 30 years later. He remarried with an older Christian lady and is doing alright today though. His ex married a wealthy man and lives in the fast lane. Their two boys are men now, living a life of minimalism and contract and temp jobs. They seem happy enough I suppose. Big Bro is ashamed of them and it makes me want to punch his lights out. He figures they are lazy and unmotivated. Big Bro has had the same job all his life and has never had to do a job search or cope with unemployment. He's a Boomer all the way, except for his divorce.

In the 80's and 90's my wife's family got hit hard. My wife's parents lost their youngest son to a medical tragedy and that stressed their whole family. Then her father lost his job of 31 years when Corporate America started to 'streamline' the company he worked for here in Canada. It was a double whammy - the man lost his son, his job and his bearings and his wife kinda just started to assume headship of the family, because he had checked out. She had to, I suppose... because the old man was just done. I saw all this because we lived with them for a year or two while I went back to school. My mother in law and I started butting heads on who was in charge of my family. I was raised to respect elders and matriarchs - but lord that woman and her idiot husband had some ideas that I wouldn't wipe my ass with.

At school my daughter was getting in trouble. She wouldn't behave for her teachers and I was being told she needed medical treatment. Her teacher was a fuggin ditz that thought spankings were child abuse and that every kid should get a trophy for showing up to a foot race. I marvelled at the stupidity of my mother in law and that cunned stunt of a school teacher - and cured my daughter's behavioural problems with a spanking. Everyone was horrified and outraged. I looked around in bewilderment as I became a borderline criminal in the minds of that family. I didn't realize it yet, but my daughter was being molded to become a leading edge member of Generation Snowflake. But after that spanking her behaviour improved, her marks went up and I called it good. When we moved out a year later I was thankful to be rid of that idiot family. I  tried to keep those sentiments to myself out of love for my wife. In the 90's I watched more and more couples getting divorced, I watched my outlaws go from being traditional 'small-c' conservatives to all out liberals. Their second son was in university learning about all about Edyacashun - and because he was in university he obviously knew everything and the outlaws smiled with admiration as their scholarly son adopted a far left world view - so they started to as well and fully expected our family to.

In the middle of the first decade of the new century things were now pretty bad in my family. Christ, we had my inlaws over all the time and they got in the middle of everything. They were not shy about making our decisions for us, and correcting my thoughts and opinions, and meddling in our affairs. They moved in with us as they had a new home built a couple blocks away and I was going fuggin nuts. I still thought I could make the old man respect me a little bit and still tried to be nice to him but... nothing worked. And the mother in law? JFC - her word was LAW. In my house?  It was hell for my wife too. She loved me but she loved them and was caught in the middle when we locked horns. I would come home and find that they had done home improvements - on my house - without asking me, or they would buy furniture or the usual household trappings and such and if I objected I got shouted down and dismissed. My wife's parents would encourage my daughter to do things they would have shot their own for doing. I couldn't live like this. It shames me to this day - I began to chat up women on the internet and started plotting an exit strategy. It was hell for me too - I loved my wife dearly... but her family was changing in horrible ways and I was learning that these people would never respect me or my place in my family - never mind theirs, and that I would be left holding the bag for the decisions of these idiots if I stuck around. When my wife found out about what I was doing she was broken hearted and enraged and told me to make some decisions. We patched things up, somehow, but to this day my conduct during that time is a shit stain on my soul. I throw myself on the mercy of the court because I didn't know how to handle a family that didn't work any more or have a place for me in it. Our marriage was held together with bale twine and duct tape as her family rattled and bashed in mine. I couldn't take it.

The manosphere would call a man like that today a "cuck" or a "beta". I didn't know about any of that, I was just a man in a prog family trying to keep his poop in a group and the family together. It was driving me mad until one day I ran across one of the 'proto-manosphere' writers - Kid du Toit. He noted the pussification of the American male back in '05 and I still remember the shock with which it resonated with me. I was being pussified myself! My mother in law was in charge of the family and she and her idiot husband were telling my daughter that she didn't have to worry about a father because they were the real authority in the family - and what they said went. And my daughter saw them treating me like a punching bag and she figured she could too.

By 2010 I had lost all influence or control of my family. My daughter was an adult and came out of the closet as a militant gay hipster, my in laws applauded and roared with derisive laughter at my despair. In 2014  I finally - finally ... I got smart. This will gall the Kings Of The Manosphere, but it is my contention that this is how it works: accept that women DO have power and authority. When you ask a lady to dance, she is the decision maker on whether or not to accept. Uncle Bob posits that men are the real romantics in any relationship and in this he is undoubtedly correct. My heart was hopelessly lost to my wife and the decision to continue our marriage was hers - not mine. But, just as women are free to reject the authority of would-be patriarchs - welp, it goes the other way too. So I told my wife to make to make her decision about our marriage... and I fully expected to be another MGTOW or Man Going His Own Way or whatever they call those celibate bachelors when their marriages dissolve. That was two years ago. She sided with me and our marriage and lives improved almost immediately. Our marriage fully recovered when she adopted her faith. I love her more now than ever before and I thank God she's still with me. She found a new family and community in the church, she loves them and they love her right back. There's even room for me there if I want it. In their community gender is NOT  a malleable social construct. Sometimes I do want a place there but I still have some thinking to do on that. Today we do our separate things as old couples do, but at the end of the day we come together and yak and chat like we used to do when we were kids and talk about important things. This is exactly what marriage should be. 30 years ago, though - I never would have seen any of this. I expected to be bouncing grandchildren on my knee, hunting and fishing with a son in law and living the good family life. How in HELL did we end up here? Phew!

This is my advice to younger men: Don't 'harden up' as the scholar at Return Of Kings says. SMARTEN UP. Your problems are not your father's and rest assured, you little shits - his life was no bed of roses either! Women are challenging, often infuriating creatures the same way men are, I guess. You want a steady, loving, warm girlfriend and wife. You want a home and family. You deserve it too. The way to that is the same as it was for your father: long courtships, keep the sex off the table until you're damned sure she's worth it. If I may be vulgar, if you **** it, you own it.
If you are confronted by nutty, progressive liberal morons in any capacity within the family or without - walk away. Tell your gal up front she either goes with you or goes with them. The biggest mistake we make with feminists, homosexuals, socialists and other is taking them seriously. Don't try to play them, they will play you. They lie, they cheat, and they are malicious as the day is long. Let them go do what they are going to do to themselves and that's it. I heard through the grape vine that my wonderful academic liberal brother in law and his empowered feminist wife are now divorced. Not only that, but their children are both having 'learning and behavioural issues'. He is a school principal, she a public educator. I'm tempted to savour the schadenfreude - but in my world now it is just the haze over the distant horizon in the rear view mirror. I have my own trials and tribulations ahead. Your only concern with stupid people like that is to evaluate whether or not they are a problem in your life. If they are - ditch them and don't think twice about it. It's hard, it hurts and it never stops hurting - but they will drag you down with them if you stay.

Life and happiness are actually quite simple: stupidity is contagious. Don't be stupid, don't hang around with stupid people - and things will work out for themselves.

Nightmares Are Just Dreams, And Free Speech Cannot Be Suppressed

I am reluctant to pick on Pete. I'm still smarting after the shit kicking I got at Unca Bob's!

There's a lot of negativity out there these days, with a lot of monsters lurking just below the surface of calm waters and a fella can't trust his own eyes these days. It doesn't help when our women and the lefties are losing their shit and can't tell the difference between Donald Trump or Adolph Hitler. Or the difference (and similarities) between fascism and socialism.

It's especially depressing when I have to crack the heads of my elders rather than the other way around - which is the natural order of things, I guess. A fella's born stupid, goes into the School Of Hard Knocks, gets edjyamacated and then it becomes his responsibility to try and beat common sense into the next generation. By the time he does that, his own elders that beat the smarts into him - are getting old and stupid so he has to beat them too! And of course, futility and despair ensues! HAR HAR HAR!!!!

Look, Pete - Twitter is a campfire sing-along for faggots, feminists, socialists, and other shit birds. So is Fecesbook. Deal with it already! You can go on there and talk about your family and life events in a politically correct way or pass. (I choose to pass - there are too many internet morons in my life as it is). It's a free country - and if you don't want to waste time with politically correct sexual freak shows and leftists - walk away! You won't regret it! Gab has been set up as a fork for Twitter and it will be interesting to see how that goes. If they don't succeed, some other venture will because despite commies and fascists - the market always wins. Right now that market is wide open for conservative and alt-right venues. Wikipedia is going to get a shiv up the arse from Infogalactic - and they will deserve it too.

Even without them we have free speech amongst ourselves. Over at Bob's Treehouse, I expressed viewpoints that he and his simian cohorts vehemently disagree with. He hates Dubya and thinks all wars are pointless bloodbaths. I see them in the historical context of the times and that drives the boys up the wall because they can only look at them in hindsight. Mine is a repulsive (but in my opinion, realistic) opinion. But by God Almighty ... They let me have my say. Ya gotta respect that.

One thing I've always noticed: People will ALWAYS say what's on their mind, and they will ALWAYS do business. Consider: Hillary's election platform with regards to conservatives was "Shut up, you're racist/homophobic/sexist and you are deplorable and don't deserve to speak." The mainstream media agreed and made sure EVERYONE knew it. Result? Hillary is out on her ass, Trump is driving lefties up the wall and neither the mainstream or social media can shut him up!!! HAR HAR HAR!!! Not only that, they have to confront Trump on a level playing field where everyone can see everyone else's agenda - and if you cheat everyone will see it! Idiots will never succeed in supressing free speech, and smart players won't even try.

As for the market? How's that war on drugs going for ya? Believe me, I have no love of dealers or addicts and won't touch that shit myself. Drug users are degenerates in my opinion and worthy only of contempt. (And I admit to my chagrin that that opinion gets rammed squarely up my arse when one considers guys like Wirecutter and Bob. They are/were recreational users and outside of that they're good men - but I digress). The point is they are gonna get their drugs over the table or under it. So it goes for gun control. All the gov't can do is make gun ownership harder for law abiding citizens. Like Bob and WC with their drugs - if my idiot gov't bans guns I'll buy them under the table and they can go piss up a rope if they don't like it. A thriving industry has set up around building guns from the ground up. It isn't hard, any two bit machinist can acquire the skills and even some layman can with the advent of mass produced CNC tools.

Just as folks are having hissy fits about Twatter and Fecesbook - the American Constitution is just a dream too. The only rights you have are the ones you can hold and defend by brute force. With the liberals flooding the country with vibrant moslem animals and diverse Mexican human trash and other low IQ/low skill immigrants - your rights and freedoms ARE probably going to be challenged at some point.

When somebody asks "Hey Filthie, how's it hangin'?" I often jokingly respond - "Living the dream, man!". And so I do - on my own turf, sometimes as an unwelcome guest at the better blogs. Regardless, good men will never let themselves be permently silenced by bad ones. Your voice IS important and needs to be heard too.

Happy Friday everyone - and keep up the chatter!

Wednesday, 15 February 2017


Oh, hi everybody!

HULP!!! Gahhhhhh...

Oh, I'm fine. Finer n' frogs hair actually....HULLLLPPPPPP....!!!!

I've just got the dry heaves  from what I just saw on the news feeds:

Ivana is swooning over Turdo La Doo..,.?!!?!? Oh lord, I'm gonna hurl again!!!!

Gasp...gasp... This is simply and utterly inexcusable.

a. Justin Turdo is a son of a whore (literally, just like Obama) and unfit for good women
b. He's almost certainly a butt blaster in his spare time (again, much like Obama)
c. He probly spends more time on his hair than Ivana does!

Don't anybody let Uncle Bob or the President know about this - they'll both be FURIOUS.  I will make a few fast quiet calls to the Scottish Mob in Morontario and little Justy Turdo will fall down a flight of stairs and we'll put an end to this nonsense discreetly!

Foygeddabaddit, ye buggardly tosspots!
You didnae see NOTHIN.