I'm At WKRP In Cinci..... Aaaaaaaaaadmontin....

When I was a kid Pop had this aluminum ladder that was 'incredibly strong and versatile'. It said so right on the UFA sticker. This was back in the mid 70's and maybe the aluminum ladder hadn't been perfected yet. I have a modern one out in the garden shed that is rock solid and light years better than that old piece of shit Pop had. At the time we all called it Shaky Jake. I was the awkward 12~13 year old that boys become when their bodies start to grow faster than their minds can assimilate and I fell off that beshitted ladder a number of times. Pop would laugh and I would rage back at him to throw that piece of shit away and get a new one - and it just made Dad laugh harder.

One day I fell off it again when we were all up on the roof shovelling off the snow. I did a face plant into a huge snow drift and everyone laughed at my humiliation. It was the last straw. May it please The Court: I was not in a homicidal fit of unreasoning rage. I moved against Shaky Jake with the cool and reasoned intent to kill him once and for all.

My intent was to drag Shaky Jake out to the driveway one day when Pop wasn't around - and run over him a couple times with the farm truck! But I never got the chance. One day Shaky Jake just disappeared and I never saw that rat bastard ladder ever again. I will swear on a stack of bibles that I had nothing to do with it. Maybe that infernal ladder finally sent Pop for a header - who knows?  Pop had found a conventional old-school wooden extension ladder that he used for the rest of his recreational construction career and may even still have it. It was heavy - but it was made of honest-to-God solid wood, and not from spaghetti aluminum.

Looks like Shaky Jake mated with a man-lift to produce these two

vomit inducing twins.

Digital cell phone cameras do awful things with perspective. I once head-shot a grouse with a pistol at 30 yards and on the digital footage it looked like the bird was 10 feet away! Something similar is happening here - those guys in the man lift are probly 300 ft. or more above us.

BARF!

Those lifts would sway and rock the same way Shaky Jake would - right before he dumped you on your ass! HAR HAR HAR! The guys up there were just oblivious and worked as if nothing were wrong as the river ducks flew beneath them.

The old Walterdale Bridge in Aaaaadmontin is completely metal. It was

called the Singing Bridge by us locals

because your tires would make the metal grates thrum as you

drove your car over it.

This new bridge is going to be a lot more friendly

to motorcycles, if not as musical.

I took my national sales manager to visit with my clients here and he even pissed them off too. The man is a narcissist and droned on and on about himself for the better part of an hour during our sales call. Finally I managed to drag him out of there and we only had one shouting match. He made his usual accusations of incompetence at me - to which I responded 'at least I know when to shut my fuggin gob' and accused him of annoying the customers. HAR HAR HAR! We were about to go thermonuclear but managed to stifle ourselves after a bit. He tried to threaten me by saying he was gonna quit if I was going to be permitted to disrespect him that way. I told him that if he wanted a scapegoat or a lickspittle - he would have to go hire one.

In the old days, Old Jim would have gotten on the phone and in between us, told everyone to STFU, smarten up, chill out - and get back to work or else! In past spats, he would have given me shit too but we both knew it was just for appearances and optics and I know darned well - he knew I knew it too. People can't be left with the impression they are being picked on or singled out. Once honour had been satisfied, I would be curtly dismissed and he would go back to flogging the guilty and the perps. He always posed as a tough, mean old man and some idiots bought it... but he always tried to keep people focused and on the job rather than firing and hiring in an endless search for 'the perfect' fit or the 'perfect team'. God I love that man and wish I had run into him earlier in life. He's 91 and semi-retired now, has lymphoma in six organs - and now we all gotta play nice for his sake. When he asks how his company is doing we have to be able to say 'as good as possible!' and PROVE it. The best thing about working where I do is that it's like WKRP In Cincinatti. The WORST thing about working where I do is that it is like working for WKRP In Cincinatti, HAR HAR HAR! My boss and I are going to have to find a way to coexist; that's all there is to it. Jim was crusty but valued his employees - we must value him in return. When he passes I will probably get the punt - but that will cost my enemies some serious coin.

We did manage to hit our stride when we went to visit the various supers, estimators and coordinators for the LRT expansion project. J would start babbling and outgassing about himself, and in mock exasperation I would tell my boss to shut his gob and stop wasting time! He would make some rude jokes at my expense the same way Lou Costello and Bud Abbot swapped insults in their day.  We were actually a hit - our meeting started small and soon we had a small audience listening to the banter and passing our sales literature around and chuckling at our antics and even contributing with some of their own. We did alright - our simple meeting turned into a fairly decent presentation. When we broke up afterward we ran out of business cards and had to go out to the truck to get more. Our show wasn't as good as the ones Lesiure Suit Larry and I did back in the day - but J is no Lesiure Suit Larry.

We parted on good enough terms I suppose. I have some new business avenues to pursue and new skills to develop - and he knows that we are not incompetents and morons - and that he can't treat us that way either.

So it is: Shaky Jake lives! And so for now, by the Grace of God... I do too... BAH! It's time to get back to work. Have yourselves a great Wednesday.

The Filthie Cafe & Bistro

Pussies

The transition from camping from a backpack or ATV to camping on wheels with all the amenities continues apace. It was horrible: on Friday night I got staggeringly, stupidly drunk. We were all sitting round the fire, the fine scotch started flowing and flowing ... and it didn't stop! At midnight I staggered away and passed out (I made it to my bed in the trailer) but managed to avoid the bed spins and vomiting that I probably deserved. Flapz made it till 1:00 or 1:30am... but poor Clint kept guzzling and feeding the fire until about 2:30 am. He woke up dead the next day.

At night it still gets chilly up here in Alberta and we sleep with the furnace gently warming things up. During the hot day we have air conditioning. As is my custom I woke up Saturday at 6:30 (slept in a bit because of the booze) and then went to the rifle range. When I got back at noon I figured I would steal a quick nap during the blazing hot afternoon - and I zonked out in air conditioned bliss and wrote off the rest of the day! I only got up to eat and drink some more on Saturday night!

Utterly despicable!!!!

When we were kids my wife and the spud could pack in all the trimmings for a four star camp trip - on our backs. They would have a tent set up in minutes while I fussed and farted around with the packs. If we were camping on wheels, we could get everything we needed PLUS stuff we didn't - into an 1988 Hyundai Excel. We would literally bury our daughter in the back seat under the soft stuff and she was just as snug as a bug as long as she had her colouring books and a few toys. I suppose if we ever had a head-on collision she wouldn't even know it until they dug her out of the sleeping bags, blankets and tarps! We were going to graduate to bicycle camping but life and work got in the way and we never did it.

I might have to have a word with CW over at the Daily Time Waster. These kids pulled into the campsite next to us and had the coolest tent set-up I ever saw. That's "Friday Open Road" stuff right there. A ladder that goes up into the tent on the other side of the truck. They were in some kind of cycling event because apparently the lady over there was doing a little victory-dance for her man - she had won a medal or placed in the event. All I could do was smile in admiration and envy. It's not polite to stare so I broke away to go take a squirt in the outhouse, thinking about those beautiful kids and ourselves in better times and days - and when I got back they were gone. They had literally folded up and left in less than a couple of minutes.

The people I run with look at the big motorhomes and fifth wheel trailers longingly - but I envy those kids and their truck-tent. I hope they put a million miles on the truck and their bicycles.

Agree Or Disagree With The Following Statement

"Women are not very good with money unless they feel themselves answerable to their husbands. Observe that in almost every divorce, the wife pisses away the family assets and generally ends up with nothing, financially ruining her husband and her children in the process. Obviously women should run the household, but under the husband’s authority and light supervision..."

Via Jim

I vastly enjoy Jim's Blog because it's much like Uncle Bob's Treehouse was: idiocy and genius abounds side by side, with the customers playing both sides of that aisle at any given time.

The women in my family and circle can refute Jim hands down; my Grandmother was a depression era woman who knew the value of a dollar and was shrewd as hell with money - a talent that she beat into my mother and to a lesser extent, into me. My wife is a saver too; but like me will splurge here and there. She does so knowing the difference between necessity and extravagance and can live quite contentedly without the extravagance if necessary. The wives of divorced family members similarly seem to be at least functional with money.

But as for friends and coworkers - I have seen much higher numbers of women ruined by divorce even though they cashed in at divorce court. Jim postulates and endorses a society where women are subservient to men and isn't shy about expending the ammo for his argument.

I am ignored as a fool there (as I was at Uncle Bob's and rightfully so I suppose) - but I think these boys are shooting themselves in the balls. The fact is that running a household is no longer a full time job and women need something useful to do to fill the time. Productive, meaningful work is a requirement for the human animal just as food and water and air are. Men and women need to feel valued. I truly believe that women need work outside the home to stay sane these days, whether it's at a job, or volunteer work or whatever.

My wife has always run the household and I foolishly refused to 'supervise'. I thought it was women's work and my mother in law agreed and made it plain that my involvement in household matters was not only unnecessary - it was unwelcome, HAR HAR HAR! Not a problem! I picked up my rifle or my fishin' rod or jumped on the bike and left them to it. Fact was I didn't really like that old bitch either and welcomed any excuses to get away. I should have taken my place in household affairs but didn't want to fight with the mother in law.  The consequences were disastrous for me and my family.

All that shit worked itself out and here we are today. My wife is still in charge of the house and if I don't like something I can just get off my fat ass and help - something I really need to do more of. I'll be damned if I am going to supervise anyone - we talk as a team and decide where we are going to go. From a financial perspective I think Jim is full of shit - at least 50% of the women I know are smart with their money. I figure that percentage is on par for the guys too. From a family perspective I think he's spot on - a fella may or may not supervise his household...but he should at least be involved with it.

Friday Wind In The Wires

The technical term for this is 'crabbing'.

Cross winds can be pantaloon fillers with three axis aircraft like this one. The pilot at least has the rudder and tries to give it a deft kick right before contact - and then hammers the brakes. It may not look like it but this is a magnificent piece of aviating.

Try doing that in a weight shift aircraft like your flexwing ultralights. The skidmarks at the Vegreville municipal airport are not all black, and that is all I'm gonna say about that, HAR HAR HAR!!!

Oh, Joy

Awhile back I got into an internal fire fight with my national sales manager. The man is a fat, bellicose fwench-canadian fop who is fond of back handed insults, insinuations and veiled threats. If you try to defend yourself against his bullshit he starts shouting and snarling at people. The last time that idiot was out here I sent the senior management a note inviting them to lay me off or fire me because I am heartily sick of his shit. I come in early, I stay late and come in on weekends to help the customers out - and if that bozo wants to come in and accuse me of and insinuate that I am involved with misconduct and incompetence, he can take a flying **** at a rolling donut.

He's coming out on Monday. I'll be interested on how that tool intends to behave. I tell myself I am not gonna worry about it but I still do. I am hoping the management see this idiot for the loose cannon he is the same way I do, and I hoped he got spanked after our last exchange.

Friday Wind... Errrrmmmm... SHITHAWK In The Wires

I know awhile back the guys at the Aaaaaaadmontin International Airport were crapping their pants with rage over all the birds in the area. They installed 'zone guns' which are basically loud firecrackers designed to scare the birds away. Unfortunately it scared the bedwetters, pissers and moaners - and didn't have much effect on the birds. Then they imported a couple families of hawks and birds of prey ... and had some limited success. I never learned if they resolved that one or not.

The vast majority of birds I see tend to stay within a couple hundred feet of the ground but the swans and cranes start migrating - and they gotta be at least a thousand feet up, maybe more. They're serious business for aviators because if you get one through a jet engine - you lose it! That's a couple million down the pooper right there! For the small airplanes in general aviation a prop strike means that engine comes off, and is thoroughly rebuilt and inspected. That is an easy $20~30K 'KA-CHING' right there.

Pikers like us can laugh at a pic like this, but serious aviators are liable to hork and spit in disgust.

Why I Haven't Shot My Face Off About The Manchester Bombings...

...yet.

This idiot is probably serious. And even if he's not, even if he's being sarcastic... quotes like this are typical of the breed.

This faggoty looking little fella was apparently one of the red smears they were mopping up after the nail bomb went off.

It's really easy to lose your shit, pull your guns and start shooting when the kids are involved but ya can't do that. When you kill or act in the name of justice you can't do it when you're mad or enraged. Righteous vengeance must be administered with clear intent and awareness of the consequences.

Captain Capitalism was beaking off awhile back about how the vast majority of victims of terrorism are also liberal assholes. I believe he is absolutely right about that myself. When the Twin Towers came down on 911 the target was NYFC - a metropolis infested with leftist f-tards. Most of the people in those buildings were probably democrats and they excuse and enable stuff like this all the time. There is a certain amount in justice in the fact that the parents that are mourning the loss of their children are also the sanctimonious multi-culti morons that enabled the guys that did it. Enjoy your vigil and your candle-light circle jerk, morons. And by all means, give me the finger and call me names and blame me and all other white men because some dune coon potted your kids. Hope it makes ya feel better... but when the grief and heartache subsides - when you start to think again...you are going to have to look in the mirror and see who is really responsible for this. We'll talk then. Check out The Bayou Renaissance Man had some good advice about avoiding public events and minimizing your target profile for terrorists.

Some wank was prattling about how periodic moslem attacks are the new normal and we had all just better get used to it - and I am just peachy with it for now. I would caution these people though - and warn them that THEY better get used to Donald Trump, the Alt-Right - and whatever comes afterward. And I am warning you liberal diversity slobs, moslem monkeys and social justice warriors right up front: leave me out of your goddamned political struggles or else. I intend to stay on this couch and if you force me to get off it - somebody is gonna get hurt.

There. I shot my face off. Sometimes, some things have to be said.

World Famous Gentleman Adventurer...

... and famous author WL Emery is over on his blog gloating about how he can turn women into putty using his wit and culinary charms. I am green with envy!

I fully intend to put him in his place by getting some advanced cooking classes and culinary expertise of my own. I am  told that I qualify for Uncle Bob's Advanced Cookery For Retards - a program reserved exclusively for the most gifted of students!

Hmmm... looks like the only other students besides me in the course will be Sam and Ella.

HAR HAR HAR!!! HAR HAR HAR!!!

Everybody's Gotta Be Somewhere...

Dammit. BW has gotten himself into a bad place this time.

God only knows what kind of fiendish experiments they're doing to him in there!

Quatermain, WL, Gorges Grouse and I are going in! Guns up men, and

keep yer arse against the wall!

If we aren't back in 30 minutes, somebody get Wirecutter and the boys

and tell them to get strapped!!!

They better bring some Vaseline too if worst comes to worst, come to think of it...

HAR HAR HAR!!!!

Raising Kids Right

Can it even be done anymore? I'm sorry - because I gotta ask.

Flapz' fiancé has a boy who's 13. By all accounts he's a train wreck. Flunked out of school, can barely read, on anti-psychotic drugs for ADD and ADHD. His mom and father split ages ago and he's grown up mostly with his mom since the divorce. He's a tall, handsome little bastard and will probably look like Clark Kent when he matures. To talk to him, he's a polite, respectful lad that looks like he could be captain of the football team AND an honour student at the same time when he hits high school.

He was camping with us last weekend because his mom couldn't trust him home alone. The poor bugger had to go camping with us old farts. We tried to keep him entertained by taking him to the trap and pistol range, playing ladder-ball and scrabble and other goofy camp games and he behaved himself like a gentleman. Later on that night we got into the beers and his mom was matching me and beating me beer for beer - and I admit feeling a little roasty myself after putting that much booze down my gullet! So Flapz and I are lounging by the fire when we overhear mom and her son - she is boozily saying that the boy "will always be her little baby no matter what comes..." I heard that and glanced at Flapz - and saw that mask that he wears when he is keeping his own counsel. He's one of those guys that won't say shit if his mouth is full of it. I quickly assumed the same expression.

And sure enough - Junior erupts. He calls his mom a drunkard, (which was true enough at the time) and then they start mouthing off at each other and the boy goes to his tent in tears. "Holy mackaral," I muttered at Flapz - and that is when he told me the kid was on anti-psychotics.

I thought to myself though, that there was nothing at all wrong about the outburst. His mother had just castrated her son in front of men whom he wanted to emulate and fit in with. I woulda flipped out on my own mother if she had done that! Young men do not want to be perceived as babies or momma's boys - especially in front of other men they respect.

I only spent about three days in his company; but if I had to guess... there is nothing wrong with that boy that the odd spanking and the rewarding company of men couldn't fix. I've heard of teachers and parents (usually women) prescribing drugs like Ritalin to their boys rather than spanking them or working with them. I wonder if that might not be going on here? Flapz told me that the boy had skipped his medication and they would be dosing him again ASAP.

Maybe I am just full of shit. I spanked my daughter once when she acted like a spoiled bitch and I had the usual suspects telling me she needed drugs and therapy and not a trip to the woodshed... and suffice it to say she didn't turn out right either. She's a 32 year old kidult that we don't mention anymore - but while she lived under my roof, she was courteous, respectful and kept her nose clean... and I credit that spanking for it. I look at Flapz' stepson and just shudder to think of the world of hurt he is in for when the apron strings are cut and he goes out into the real world to face the trials and tribulations of a man.

Of course, I didn't say anything to Flapz. His attitude is that the boy is not his, and the boy's parenting is the business of Mom and that's it. I think he refuses to even ponder that boy's future and maybe he is right to do so. Of course, it's none of my damn business either, for that matter. I don't think his mom is thinking about his future either.

Having hatched a millennial myself, and watching Flapz and his lady creating an even bigger train wreck - I am going to keep my retirement options open with my .45 ... because there is going to be nobody to look after us when we are 75...

For those ignorant young pricks encouraging me to take an

early retirement - the last shell is for me.

That leaves five for you little shits.

A Fine May Long Weekend

It has been something of a family tradition for us to go camping on the May Long Weekend over the years. May is early spring for us up here; usually the snow is all gone by May, but it isn't uncommon to get a final dump of snow - or to have the typical shitty early-spring weather with cold rain and winds. Some folks I know used the long weekend to get their gardens in but most of them have wised up. The weather gods get prankish in May and are not to be trusted farther than you can throw 'em.

The Friday before a long weekend can bring out the shithead in people on the road. On the way out, every second moron decided that speed limits and traffic laws didn't apply to them and the result was pure road rage. I was driving fast for me - about 10 KPH over the limit like pretty much everyone else - and we almost had a couple pile ups because some fuckhead wanted to pass everyone and do 140 KPH rather than 110, and they were willing to literally risk their lives and mine to do it. I had a mixture of moron redneck kids in jacked up diesel 4x4's and yuppie faggots in Audis try to kill me on the way out! They would pull out to pass go as far as they could and then cut back in to avoid oncoming traffic... and promptly get stuck behind the next guy who refused to drive like an idiot. The guy they cut off would have to stand on his brakes as did everyone behind him. It used to be that it was legal here for slow pokes like me to pull over into the break down lane and let speeders pass. But some turd brained bureaucrat decided that was dangerous and now we have rumble strips and laws to forbid it. Go figure.

All that changed when we got to camp, though. These campers go up faster than it takes to think about it, and you can have the lawn chairs, dawgs and beers deployed in no time at all. We had excellent weather, and everyone had a good time.

Macey The Monster...

Sentry dawg... he looks like a poofy little

lap dog here but he is actually a Great Pyranese with a pig shave

and weighs 106 lbs.

Mort loves everyone and pretty much everyone likes Mort.

So in short, all I got done this weekend is fly Crapcopters, waste ammunition and filter beer through my kidneys. Packing up was a whiz too. In about half an hour we had everything packed up and the place so clean you could never tell we were there in the first place.

The good life with a good wife...

Time to go home. Finally everything is green again. Maybe I'm

just getting old but that last winter was a long one.

My RetireMINT Rig is ready to move out!

Summer is finally here. When I got home the grass was 8 feet tall but I also had a spectacular surprise waiting for me at home too!

This is my crab tree. Every two years she blossoms out

and every bumble bee in the neighbourhood

stops by for a drink.

The blossoms only last a few days though and will

be gone with the next stiff wind. It was a treat to come home to.

So while the wife unpacked, I attacked the grass and finished off the long weekend with some chores. When I finally hit the shower I had three days worth of bug dope, campfire smoke, BO and grass clippings to wash off.

Once I got cleaned up and sat down to my computer - I noticed BW had an emergency e-mail waiting for me on my inbox! Yet another treat! It seems he was exploring around Alberta and found a Bed & Breakfast that catered to my kind of clientele:

BW didn't want to publish this one on his blog. I can't imagine why; I don't see

anything inappropriate about it...

I will check it out once BW gives me directions, HAR HAR HAR!!!

 Bah. The bad thing about good long weekends is that ya gotta go back to work afterward! HAR HAR HAR!!! Have a good Tuesday everyone.

Friday Wind In The Wires: The Bloop

The Ultralight done right!

Low speed, high lift, and wide set landing gear! The

stall speed has to be almost in the single digits...

Biplane? Tail dragger...?

Who woulda thunk you'd get nostalgia and romance

in a fly-weight like this?

And now for the Friday night BARF!

Sure is pretty from the pilot's seat too...

Mainstream Media - This Is Not Good

Like anyone else, I guess, I hate the media with the heat of 1000 suns. According to the fags at TIME, the Whitehouse is going red thanks to Trump's collusion with the fuggin commies.

?

Who writes this shit? And - who believes it? Never mind paying good money to read it? There was a time when not even the NATIONAL ENQUIRER would publish shite like this! I had to laugh - the Glob And Pail - another of Canada's leftist shit rag newspapers - has a website now because virtually nobody is buying print anymore. It used to be that ya got to read 10 of their articles for free and then you would be expected to turn over 99 cents to get past the paywall to read the rest. I snorted in disgust and then laughed: it would be a rip off at half the price! HAR HAR HAR! Welp - the clucky hens and the cucky manginas at the Glob musta heard me because now they're asking you to pay 45 cents to get past the paywall! HAR HAR HAR! I wouldn't piss on those Marxists if they were on fire!

Fact is we have NO credible news sources on hand anymore. Did we ever? But the fact is you can come to even a dump like the Thunderbox and read better, more informed commentary for free.

I can forgive small mistakes and blunders. It's gonna happen in that industry just as it happens with bloggers. Example - the Whitehouse is turning into the Kremlin!!!! See the details on page 7!!!! Errrr... a blogger caught that one: that isn't the Kremlin, that is St. Basil's Cathedral.

Ooops.

But I can forgive that; I wouldna caught that one either. But...hell's bells! Trump? In the bag with the Russians? What kind of idiot would even think that? I have a message for our American leftists and liberals: you lost the election because you're stupid. You're also dishonest, sanctimonious, and hypocritical. And - as long as we are being completely honest: You're kinda over on the ugly side too, HAR HAR HAR!!! HAR HAR HAR!!!

So...who ya gonna trust for your news? Hate to say it but... you're looking at him. Or one like him, maybe. But regardless of who you believe, you can't really trust the slobs in the media AT ALL anymore.

Sleep tight tonight, I guess.

Oh Shitfuckyeah....

I could do without the robotic knife-knife thing in front of the holosight - and the holosight itself, actually - but that'll do nicely.

Maybe us Canadians could get a piece of this too? Are any liberal bedwetters offended by this:

Dammit - it has marijuana leaves on it. Too bad... we coulda had some real fun tormenting stupid people with it...

Captain Sweatpants VS The Yodeller

This morning on Dawn Dawg Patrol I was stumbling along at 5:30 Zulu when an Escalade screeched to a halt in front of us. The window rolled down and a pretty trophy wife and her ankle biter dog were in the window!

"Oh, thank heavens!" She said to her little mutt, "It's Captain Sweatpants and his K9 Crime Fighters!" The woman was in a righteous flather and her little dog was shaking so bad he couldn't even muster up a bark. "Good morning, Miss," I said in my deep authoritative voice, "What seems to be the issue?" So the lady spills: there was a great, big, smelly coyote in the soccer field just round the corner. The thing had made a stalk on her and her little poofter of a dog, and they got to the car before the yodeller could get nasty. They were both frightened to death, HAR HAR HAR!

"Not to worry, Miss! Me and my team are lethal hunters and we'll run him off!" So she thanks us, rolls up the window - and we stalk off to the soccer field while she peels out for home. We got round the corner and sure enough, right in the middle of town - there's a big ass coyote looking at us! She wasn't lying - this was a BIG 'yote.

Coyotes are ordinarily cowardly things, but this one lowered his head... and started creeping toward us. "I wouldn't," I warned the cur. He stopped at the words - and then resumed his stalk.

And then Mort lost his shit!

That damned dog goes from a big fluffy harmless goof to a DEFCON 5 killing machine in seconds. He starts barking and yanking at his leash as if to say "Let me off, gawddammit!! He'll get away! LET ME OFF!!!"

Mort's tantrum made the cur think twice and he lost interest in us and sidled away... but Mort continued to freak out! I booted his ass, and then he started thrashing around trying to bark, slip his leash and avoid getting his ass kicked. Eventually I connected again, hard this time... and the rage slowly left his tone as he continued to wuff and growl. Anyone that knows Mort knows him as a friendly snuggler that thinks he's a lap dog. He even smiles at people he likes - which is just about everyone. But if he senses the merest hint of a threat, he does this Jekyll and Hyde thing that is creepy as hell!

In any event, the intruder left and hasn't returned yet - and law and order were restored. We are gonna head out again and make sure the interloper is gone for good. Your Friendly Neighbourhood Captain Sweatpants is always on duty!

The urbanization of wildlife is getting bizarre. We have pelicans coming up here now, along with the odd bald eagle too. No - I haven't been drinking (although you would be correct to suspect it), responsible adults have seen these critters too and will confirm it. I have even seen deer in the middle of town now.

I wonder if all this is a bad thing?

Friday Wind In The Wires Is On Again....

Holy shit!!!!

Emergency landings are no laughing matter! Had he not hit the wires he might

have made it...

I was gonna take a pic of the RC Filthiecopter... but Mort kept getting in the way. He wants to go for a walk. Have a better Thursday than this poor soul did.

Friday Wind In The Wires: CANCELLED

Sob... to break these surly bonds of earth... and touch the face of God...

I'm sorry everyone - the pilot didn't make it... sob...

I KNEW It!!!

It's nice to see my pet scientific theories confirmed by the great minds of the day. You ask me - I should get a Nobel for this.

I had to dumb this down a bit for the stupid kids. In point of fact,

there should be a few Neanderthals like BW, Quartermain and

Gorges Grouse floating around out in space too.

The Canadian Long Weekend

A lot of folks use the May Long Weekend to put their gardens in.

It is a good time to go camping though...

Remember to fish the drunks out of the snow before you go to bed on

Saturday night.

Proving Once Again That Children Should Not Only Be Spanked

OR: FUN WITH FUCKTARDS

...some should be culled with a lead pipe as well, HAR HAR HAR!

When I was a kid we drew swastikas on our books to drive the adults nuts with rage. And as far as Nazi Germany went - we thought they had the coolest shit. Stuka dive bombers, Schmeisser machine guns, Tiger Tanks, potato masher grenades... and they blew shit up!  Cool!!!! Well, our parents and grandparents would hear us talk like that and lose their mud.

After some non-violent re-education in schools, and violent re-education at home I learned about the Holocaust and grew up a bit to appreciate the swastika for what it was - a hate symbol.

But then I learnt another way to drive fat old gray haired liberal ladies and their greasy beta male husbands nuts: I learned that the fuggin commies killed way more people, and far more jooooooos than the Germans ever did - and yet that never seems to come up for our bed wetting leftists unless some ignernt red neck bunghole like me does it! They'll tell me what an asshole I am, and how I should get a set of jack boots, a monocle, and a riding crop to go with that armband with the swastika on it.

Then I really light them off: I will point out that we have any number of loons out there with the stupidest conspiracy theories going - and we laugh at them. But if a Holocaust denier rears his ugly head - everyone loses their shit and wants him silenced, his civil rights cancelled, and have him jailed ASAP. Why is that, exactly?

I don't see any real difference between that kid being raised as a socialist revolutionary or some skin head being raised as a stormtrooper for the 4th Reich.

But whadda I know...?

So I Had My Job Interview Yesterday

Ya gotta be careful when you're job-hopping because it is very easy to jump out of the frying pan and land in the fire. Employers like to bitch and moan about candidates lying on their resumes... but half those bastards lie like hell when they think they can poach a good employee from another company. They'll tell you this and that about what a great opportunity they have for you - and when you take the job it turns out to be nothing like they said. Been there, done that, bought the tee shirt. Guys that do that deserve the firing squad.

So I went in and half the inside guys are milling around in shorts and doing nothing. The phones are quiet. The manager comes down, we shake hands and go up to his office to get down to business. Turns out he's a new manager himself - only been there three months. The scoop was that when Alberta's economy dived, the ass hats back at head office panicked, decided that all their guys (who had previously been setting sales records during the boom) - were suddenly incompetent and needed to be fired. But let us not use such vulgar terms! They downsized, reorganized, and streamlined - and are now in need of some top flight technical sales guys for their line of precision tools. This was only an informal meeting where they would sit down with potential candidates and then call back the ones they were seriously considering for a more in depth interview.

I asked him what tools I would have if I got the job - they have a huge product line. So he started reaming off 'tools' that were more conducive to management micromanaging their employees than they were for a salesman trying to do his job. I didn't try to BS him, and told him that I would need training and time to get up to speed and if they weren't in a position to give me that - I would like to thank him for his time and pass. I told him that there was a recession on - how soon did they expect tangible results? "Why - almost immediately!"

Riiiiiiiight.

"So, Filthie, what other questions do you have?" I replied that was it for now, and would have more if we both decided to go the next step and meet again for a second interview. The manager said I could probably expect a call back today because I looked pretty good for the job so far - but he still had some candidates to meet. "Fair enough," I said, and we shook hands and I showed myself out. On the way out there were more guys downstairs now, BSing and standing around.

Hmmmmmm. Let us summarize:

• they met an unexpected downturn and fired all their muscle. From the looks of the guys downstairs, they left much of the fat. That is a deal breaker for me right there.
• inexperienced manager, hiring for a job/company that he himself is not an expert on? The industrial specialty tools racket is a small world, I know guys that do this stuff and are experts with the various product lines. Why aren't they lining up to join this company?
• This manager told me the territory I would take had the potential for millions, if properly managed. They base that on what, exactly? (I know better than to ask).

I'm gonna pass on this one and keep looking. I already work for assholes but the senior management is at least partially on my side so I may as well stay where I'm at for now. Don't think I will go for a second interview either: the way I am reading things is that they have idiots in senior management that know everything, and they promptly shot themselves in the foot when the boom went bust in Alberta. If I don't miss my guess, they're reloading and are going to shoot themselves in the balls next. To do what I do ya have to have professional sales skill sets, a mechanical aptitude and a familiarity with the product, the tradesmen that use them and the job they do. You can't train somebody like that in school - guys like that can only be made with OTJT - 'on the job training'. It's expensive, time consuming and doesn't pay off for at least a year or two. Only senior management idiots are talking about expansion and increasing market share in this economic climate. For our customers, and therefore, for us - everything right now is about survival. You can't expect to parachute an inexperienced guy into a market like that and expect him to succeed. I strongly suspect this manager has been put in exactly that position, and he will put whoever he hires in that boat too.

No thanks. This is a job for somebody with no commitment to the company, and is in it only until he finds a better job somewhere else.

But - at least I got called for an interview and it is nice to know I can get reasonable temporary work if I need it.

The Crown Of The Philosopher King Sits Heavily On My Brow

With the passing of Uncle Bob I was kinda hoping Quartermain would step up and assume the duties as our reigning philosopher king - but the coward was too smart to get sucked into it as were the other obvious candidates like WL, Wirecutter, CW, etc.

It is with a heavy heart that I ascend to the throne, and pass this - my first exercise to my loyal and devoted  disciples and intellectuals:

If a fart is cut in a wet suit...

Does anybody hear it?

Another Blogger Who Shall Remain Nameless

Awhile back I was touring another blog when the subject of flags came up. The Aaaaaadmontin Oilers were in the playoffs and so all the local yokels round here started putting those gay little flags on their cars to show their support for the team. Because this is Edmonton, and because rig pigs are what they are... in this town ya go BIG or ya go home! (Albertans are much like Texans only better looking with more money). So I was pooping in the comments of this in-named blogger when I mentioned that the boys at The Rig Shop The Pig Shop had their jacked up, pimped out company 4x4 flying a big ass Oilers flag that created sonic booms when it flapped in the breeze. And then - it happened.

This snide little  %^&*#@ says, "Pics, please, or it didn't happen...". Why... the arrogant WORM! As if Yours Truly would EVER let an untruth pass his lips! As if I should have to PROVE my points like some common layman??? I got so damned mad, I almost loaded up my cap n ball revolver with the idea of going down south to challenge this rake to a duel!!!

Fortunately for him I can control my lethal temper with the same dexterity as I do with my lightning fast pistols!

In any event, I let the transgression pass because I haven't had time to harass the boys at the pig shop but I DID come across another customer who wasn't gonna take ANY bullshit from The Pig Shop when it came to team loyalty and virtue-signalling:

There's actually TWO big ass flags on this monster along with the improvised oil rig. As this beast rumbles down the street, the starboard flag flaps and snaps any passing Calgarians in the gob to the right, and the port side flag bitch slaps the ones to the left! HAR HAR HAR!!! HAR HAR HAR!!!

Let it not be said that Filthie tells lies.

Filthicus: Blood And Sand

I got all wound up and impressed with myself  last week because my blog numbers went through the roof. Then I went over to Gorges Grouse and he said his Blog-O-Meter redlined too, and that it was probly hackers and spammers and monsters trolled up from the deepest blackest depths of the internet. I expected the number to plummet down to the their regular dismal levels but they haven't. Maybe these are tenacious spammers, or ... maybe there are a lot more messed up people reading my blog... What in hell am I gonna do to hang on to all these new suckers readers?

Bloodsport is always a crowd pleaser, so, like the Ceasars long ago - I have started importing monsters from exotic lands half way round the known world! They are brought here to fight and die for us and our leisure! I ask you, dear Romans Readers: Are you not entertained?

First up are these flesh-eating monsters! The horror.

The horror.

Guys, I'm sorry, I was supposed to have lions. World famous hunter, adventurer and author WL Emery - was supposed to live capture a few for me so that we could watch them fight and eat our political enemies...but we lost track of him. I think he's in a bar somewhere, getting pished on the finest single malts and writing his next best selling masterpiece novel. Goddammit, I knew I shoulda dealt with Earnie Hemmingway instead!!!

Lookit all the dead Christians they kilt! Now these killers

will try to eat each other... even I am repulsed

by the sheer violence and savagery!

These gladiators are well matched! The big one has strength

and mass, the little one has speed and agility!

Place your bets, men!

I'm sorry folks. I got nothin. Have a good Monday if ya can!

Artistic Opinions Needed

Awhile back I decided the time had come to retire from serious riflery and marksmanship - and become one of the useless old rod n' gun club stubfarts that clutters up the firing line with archaic weapons, curios and relics. One of our members, long passed, used to be out there with his soot burning front stuffing flinter, dressed in a flawless capote.

A capote is was made from a Hudson's Bay blanket. This one looks

like a bathrobe, but a real capote

would often have horn or antique coins for buttons.

I had to admit the old fart looked pretty good in it.

One day I am going to have one of these.

Dedicated black powder geeks and weirdos that dress up in period authentic clothes are called buck skinners. It appeals to the old boys because everything they wear and use has to be hand made... and it keeps their hands busy and gives them something to do during long cold winter months.

I love black powder (properly referred to as The Holy Black) and I have a muzzle loader... but I am more fond of cartridge guns. About a year ago I procured a couple of BPCR guns (Black Powder Cartridge Rifles) - and started melting lead, shooting, stinking ... and thinking about my accouterments that I am gonna need. To start off with, I needed a proper cartridge belt for my 45-70 buffalo gun.

I dunno who this bum is (might be Firehand

from Elm Tree Forge) - but he has that big leather cartridge belt

stuffed with 50-120 paper patched cartridges.

I needed something along those lines too.

Custom leather cartridge belts aren't cheap - I saw one beauty going for $600.00 US. It was elaborately tooled with custom conchos and was a work of art.

Not bad at all. This leatherworker knows his stuff.

Nice, but I don't care for the lacing...

Nice! Wonder if I could make something similar... without

paying an arm and a leg for it...?

I used to do shit house leather work but I sucked at it and quit. But the idea of shelling out $600.00 for a belt stuck in my craw so I dug out all the junk and took a shot at making my own.

I wanted this one to have a distressed or antique look to it... you can tell

it was hand made by an amateur... but it works.

I found some beat up old buckles and used them in my arts n crafts project

The pros have all the machines and tools, and more importantly, they know how to used them. Mine is a little rough and you can tell it was made by a piker and not an artisan. It has three conchos and some antique brass studs to add some bling to it. It probly isn't close to historically correct but that was not its intent - I just wanted a different way to carry ammo.

So here's my question to you: should I add a few more conchos - or walk away and leave it alone?

This is the back of the belt as it stands now.... The belt has 3 three conchos on

leather patches and depict bears, elk and big horn rams.

Should I put on two more to bling it up a little? This is what it would look

like if I installed two more...

Peer pressure is murderous amongst old gun club stubfarts and you can get bullied and picked on by the other black powder geeks if your clothes are unfashionable and ya don't fit in with the cool kids.

As always, your thoughts and opinions are sincerely appreciated.

Have a great Sunday.

Happy Mothers Day!

This is what motherhood is.

Mother's Day is pretty much obsolete in these days of ugly lesbians, single mom sluttery, selfish feminists, trans- and pan-gendered freak shows and she-twinks with hair in all the frooty colours of the rainbow. Those types will try to pervert this day and make it about them in their endless demand for attention but they will not get the time of day from me. Their parodies of marriage, parenting, and family leave me only with pity for the children they are going to destroy. There's a lot of ways for women to go deeply wrong these days.

For those mothers who are raising their kids right, and are loving, caring and warm with their men - this day is for you! You have done something incredibly difficult in this age of dysfunctional families and state instituted perversion and depravity.- if you can't enjoy a proper Mother's Day because of the failures of others in your family - come as close to this pic above as ya can, and call it good. Your Maker (and your friends here at the Thunderbox) know the score.

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY, MOM!

The Drawing Of The Three

In my younger days I literally drank beer by the bucket - I was a home brewer and my fermenter was going full blast all the time. My friends could pack it away too and because it was so cheap, I could care less if the boys showed up and cleaned me out of 5 cases at a time - because I could brew that on 20 bucks. At the liquor store yesterday I bought a 24 of Bud and I think I paid around 50 bucks for it!

It's not so bad because I am a quiet old fart now and a 24 will easily last me a month and a bit if my friends help out. I don't drink that much anymore. Now I go for quality rather than quantity. I graduated to scotch about 20 years ago and studied up on the subject professionally. I read books on the subject, and eventually could and did pick out common notes like toffee, vanilla, citrus and others commonly found in the various makes. Then I stopped drinking for the longest time altogether and now I can't do it at all anymore unless I read the tasting notes and the reviews first. In spite of all that the makes I choose for '5 Stars" often jive with the experts. I have abandoned the single malt special bottlings altogether - my experience is that when everything becomes 'special' ... NOTHING is.

The weekend after next, Clint, Flapz and I are going into seclusion at the campground to pick the year's best distilled spirits. This is a very serious event and the distilleries have all been warned that our decisions will be final, without any appeal or snivelling whatsoever! Clint and Flapz have kids so will lead off with their choices and will probly bring a bottle each. Over the last year I have run into three worthy candidates so I'll take them and run them past my colleagues in a formal taste test. The women will be free to sample them too, but their opinions will not be part of the selection process. Mysogyny is alive and well, thank you very much! HAR HAR HAR!

These are my choices:

Number One: Caribou Crossing:

From The Whisky Exchange:

The flavors are straightforward—primarily vanilla, with some crème brulee, toasted marshmallow, tangerine, peaches & cream, and gentle rye spice—but they are clean and well-balanced. A delicious, lighter-style whisky just in time for warm weather.

Advanced Malt Advocate magazine rating: 93

This is the best whisky I have in my collection. I have half a bottle left open, another stashed that I bought yesterday, and if I were as rich as Mad Jack I would have bought another too. But at $100 a bottle a guy has to live in the real world. (Oh dammit - I shoulda bought the other bottle too and I know I will regret it later).

Number Two: Caribou Connemara Cask Strength:

"Charred plastic"? Some other ass hat was

yammering about a 'creosote' flavour...

What kind of brain wipe even knows what creosote

TASTES like? Don't listen to the critics on this one,

but DO trust your Friendly Neighbourhood Glen Filthie!

You should have a flask of this in your saddle bags at all times.

Whereas Caribou Crossing is a spectacular, special spirit for very special occasions, Conemara is just about perfect for everything else. Don't listen to the pished up UK soccer hooligans babbling about notes of 'creosote' or burnt plastic...they were probably drinking Toilet Duck and were too uncultured and boorish to tell the difference.

Number Three: Black Bull:

Nose: aromatic nose, a tad more grainy than the others but it’s a “malty” graininess if you know what I mean. It’s muesli and cereals rather than the harsh, synthetic graininess and alcoholic kick that you sometimes get in cheap blends or actual grain whisky. Berry aromas and oranges. Some pencil shavings. Soft pepper. Hints of earthy sherry in the background. Mouth: oily, malty and slightly nutty. Apples, raisins, cinnamon and pepper. Oranges. Balanced oak. Growing cocoa / toffee notes towards the end. Finish: medium long, quite dry and peppery, with lingering oak and a slightly raw edge.

Quite a rich blend, well constructed, without an obvious grain influence. I’ve seen this being sold for € 33 to around 50, shop around to find the best deal.

This reviewer gave it 82 out of 100. I would say he's being cheap and give it maybe 92. BW Bandy put me on to this stuff and Flapz has already given it his approval. We'll see what Clint and the ladies think in a couple weeks.

I know everyone will be on pins and needles waiting to hear what we decide! Stay tuned and be the first to hear the official verdict....

BW'S Saturday Night Honky-Tonk

Welp, looks like Filthie's Speakeasy is outta business. Oh, it's no big deal, it had to happen sooner or later. I was in trouble with the Scottish, Russian and Senor's mobs. The board of Health inspectors had it in for me too, trivial stuff about rat droppings on the stoves and spittoons not getting emptied. Then the banks started going after me and I had to shut 'er down and sell out! But - no problem! BW picked up my establishment and it looks like he's going country/western! He's already got a new live band lined up and he's cleaning the place out as we speak! AND he's serving suds! All at the same time!!!

Once he's rousted all the old clientele out - think I'll go in and

have a cold one!

Feel free to join us...

They're Eating Their Own Now...

Watching the ebb and flow of the political battles in Canada has been an edifying experience.  Civil war seems to have spread from the conservative end of the spectrum to the liberal left. Just as conservatives had to deal with their 'RINOS', 'CINOS' and 'cuckservatives', the liberals have to deal with their progtards that come in all the frooty colours of the rainbow. I wish Uncle Bob were still around so we could fight about it. One thing is clear - the parasites WILL kill the host if we let them. In Canada the left is tearing itself apart with their own hate laws and virtue signalling, and in America, the head of the FBI got canned and the Donks are screaming bloody murder about it after they spent two years trying to get him fired themselves. How is it that grown adults can even participate in shit shows like this? Can't they hear themselves?

I would like to encourage my liberal readers oops, sorry - I don't have any! HAR HAR HAR! But if I did, I would like to urge them to get involved in those internal civil wars, and to be as violent and inhuman as possible about it!

It'll save us having to do it later if they cull themselves now.

Friday Wind In The Wires

Gonna be drivin' home for most of the day today. While I'm a guest in Fort McMurray, I stay at the opulent and glamourous Advantage Inn, where I enjoy all the comforts of home!

Reminds me of that old chit house graffiti. Down the door of the stall,

if ya leaned over, you could barely read the message: IF YOU

CAN READ THIS, YOU ARE LEANING AT A 45 DEGREE ANGLE AND

YOU'RE SHITTING ON YOUR BALLS.

When I saw that, I would write a little lower down:

IF YOU CAN READ THIS, YOU'RE SHITTING ON THE FLOOR

That's one helluva lean out just to wipe. I suspect that most rig-pigging guests just do as I do and zip up and forget about it, HAR HAR HAR!!!

(Arlight! Okay! No, I don't really do that. And I wash my hands too. Sheesh!)

Where was I?

Oh yes! *Ahem* - the wind in the wires!

On road trips I like to save the coolest customers to visit for last. And for Ft. Mac, that means the aviation industry guys.

The boys at Phoenix take their whirly-birds very seriously indeed.

If that isn't the coolest weather vane ever...

I've never seen so many choppers on the ground at once out here before. Must a been dozens. My national sales manager is so damn stupid, he will look at something like that and say 'Look at that! Look at all the business there is going on up here!!! Why aren't you getting any of it?!?!" When I explain to him that if the economy were good, those birds would all be in the air MAKING money as opposed to sitting on the ground COSTING money... at which point he starts shouting and waving his pudgy little fists around and accusing me of every sin under the sun.

Got my first job interview lined up for Monday, so there's that. The trick now is to avoid jumping outta the frying pan and into the fire! HAR HAR HAR!

Happy Friday, y'all!!!