Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

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

Wednesday, 28 February 2018

Not A Word To The Old Lady, You Finks...

I remember a hundred years ago when I was using liquid nitrogen to... well, never mind exactly - but one a you retards finked and I got 30 days in the can, and another ten in the dog house when my wife found out.

Aw hell - I'm a dead man walkin' and I know it. The whole house is stunk up and the old lady will know what I did the moment she walks in the door.

Problem is I ran outta lead for my Outhouse Assault Rifles - an 1876 lever gun in 45-75 bottleneck, and a Rem rolling block in 45-70. And since I am conserving cash like a bastidge right now, I figured I should see if I could get my bullet casting outfit running. Problem is it's cold outside, and I can't get my lead hot enough to pour right - and the old lady told me I'd get shot and pi**ed on if I did it in the house. Fluxing the melt is a little smelly, and of course everyone is paranoid as hell about lead fumes these days.

The safety Nazis woulda had a bird! Molten lead indoors? With
16 lbs. of gunpowder not 3 ft. away...?!?!?

But dammit... I need bullets now. Lead exposure is no joke but people are people, and they'll chit their pants over nothing, given half an excuse to do so. Kids used to pour molten lead to make tin soldiers for the last 200 years and none of them died from lead poisoning - so I closed the door to the basement, opened all the windahs - and went to work in my nice warm basement! I fluxed my melt with beeswax - and the house started stinking to high hell! Oh no!!!! The old lady is gonna kill me!

On the left is a 350 gr. flat point for the 45-75 bottleneck
Middle is a 500 gr. round nose
Right is 525 grain pointy bullet. I think the black powder geeks
call that one either a Postell or Money boolit...

Figure I did about 15 lbs worth this afternoon. Near as I can tell my alloy was around 20% tin and the rest was lead. I think I saw Firehand calling it 'Mongrel Alloy'. An expert would have carefully done the alloying but I just threw it all in the pot and went to work. 

That oughtta keep those ammo-gobbling pigs
running for awhile.

Boys, I am probably gonna get kilt for this - the wife is gonna swinging frying pans and rolling pins  the second she walks in the door and the creeps in the RCMP will probly call it a justified homicide. Please make sure I get a decent buryin' in the back forty out at Sunnybrook Farm - and don't let Pete or Quartermain desecrate my corpse! I want a deep hole - so that the coyotes or Aggie don't dig me up and snack on my bones. Failure to comply - and I will haunt all you creeps until the end of your wretched lives!!!

I mean it!!!

Yella Fellas: Interpreter Needed

Who are these smirking chinamen? Norks? Viet Cong? And what are they trying to tell us? 
Domething about drinking fountains in toilets?
Keep yer hands close to yer holsters boys. I don't trust 'em - OR their
terlets. They clearly have an intent that goes against those of us
that favour Thunderboxes.

From The "Why Women Live Longer Than Men" Files...

If the lady survives, it's odds on that her husband won't.
Please note, men, that something like this WILL be seen by the courts
as grounds for justifiable homo-cide.
(I think it's worth it though, HAR HAR HAR!!!!)

Pete F. Spotted

The Things Ya See When Ya Don't Have A Gun

Back when I got out of school I needed some serious decompression after years immersed in books. I was a bow bender back then, and the shooting craze of the day was '3D' competition. It was just the ticket - the vibe was a cross between a target-rich hunting environment, and golf! Archers went around a course, shooting at 3D foam animal targets. I lived for it and loved it all. There was always a tournament going on somewhere on those summer weekends light years ago.

At first it was all very innocent and sportsmanlike. We had deer in various poses, cougars, bears, antelope, turkeys - all the tasty critters. Then some of us started getting bored, or stupid - who knows? Beavers started showing up on the 3D circuits. Javelinas (you only see them in Alberta when you're drunker than Mad Jack). Alligators (ditto) and finally even velociraptors and zombies. I didn't take the game seriously and often me and Stu The Jew would slam a few beers before heading out and sip  at a few cans stashed in our back quivers as we did the rounds. We had to hang out with the stick bow retards because the serious competitors wanted nothing to do with us. (That, and the fact that we could outshoot those snobbish poseurs even when we were half in the bag).

The sport was riddled with crabby old bastids back then, mostly well-off retirees with too much time and money on their hands. They would put on these shoots and us younger competitors only had to come up with a small entry fee and help with the clean up and BBQ supper afterward. On one of the shoots the old boys decided to put a twist into the game and set up a special 'tactical stage'. The shooter came round a wall of dense underbrush and was confronted with a scene kinda like the one above - only it was a beautiful woman (represented by a plaid clad dept. store mannequin) being menaced by a crouching foam cougar. The shooter was supposed to assess the peril, nock an arrow and valiantly save the damsel with a devastating shot on the cat. Scoring was based on a combination of time and accuracy.

So my group came through one at a time, shot the cougar and got their scores. Old Glen (no relation) was the last one through. He waddled round the corner with a beautiful Flemish long bow, sized up the situation - and shot that bitch right between the eyes! His speed was incredible, his marksmanship was flawless - and the rest of us hooted like howler monkeys at the sport of it all.

"Glen," Stu gobbled, "What in hell is wrong with your fuggin head!?!? You're SUPPOSED to shoot the friggin cougar...!!!"

"I demand a perfect score," Glen groused as he tried to pull a beautiful footed spruce and cedar arrow shaft from the dummy's head. "You're lucky we don't kick your fat old ass out!" we replied,  "How in bloody blue blazes do ya figger ya deserve a perfect score, you stupid old bugger...?"

"I may be old, but I'm not stupid," Ol' Glen replied. "I figger that being fat and old, the chances of me out running either the cat or the bimbo are negligible. So - I shoot the broad, the cat will eat her instead of me while I make a hasty escape - and everything is good!" 

The official scorekeeper gave him the perfect score at our insistence (it was a tactical shoot situation after all) but subtracted the points off his final score because Ol' Glen spelt his name wrong on the score card. He lost further subjective points because of unsportsmanlike cowardice too. The serious competitors rolled their eyes and scowled at our foolishness and that only added to the merriment.

I still remember us all on some back country oil lease by Dreadful Valley, sitting round the campfire that night and smirking and joking about it all after the shoot. 30 years ago, it must have been.

The last time I saw Ol' Glen was at the clinic, we were getting our fluids checked and he was frail and heavy - I doubt if he could even draw a bow anymore by then. He's probably passed on since - but I still remember when he was a king, who was loved (but not respected) by all of his subjects.

Tuesday, 27 February 2018

A Quiet, Introspective Humpday Here At The Thunderbox...

Good grief.

There's always a fetid, warm moist stink in the air around the Thunderbox at the best of times but sometimes the funk gets so ripe it'll make yer eyes run. There's some guys that seem to understand life and power through it as if they know how it works, and some like me where stuff just happens to them and they bumble along the best they can and put one foot in front of the other because.. what else are ya gonna do?

I need a range day. The rest of you - have a great Hump Day.

Eerrrrr....that's an order.

Monday, 26 February 2018

Good Morning

Boys I dunno if this is an especially colourful piece of petrified wood or rock strata...
or good wholesome bacon...
but I am willing to take the chance! Are ya in?

No Shootings Possible At The Retard School

I've made sure of it!  :)

A Canadian Dream

100 years ago I dreamed of building a cedar strip canoe or kayak. I bought a book, poured over plans and it was like a balm to my soul - when the brown stuff hit the fan I would fantasize about a canoe trip or a paddle on some pristine lake in the foothills with only the wind and the water, maybe some gulls - in a boat I had made with my own hands. I think there's a lot of Canadians with similar dreams - maybe a cabin at the lake, or a rec property somewhere remote and far away from it all. I can see a canoe like this fitting into something like that real good.

They are not overly difficult or expensive, it comes down to how much time you have to put into it and how well you take to the skills required. In my research I found that some builders were so good at it, people would commission them to build boats the same way the tofts used to commission painters and artists. I suppose they are works of art, some of 'em. No doubt about it though, wood boats have soul.

I had to give it up, I don't have a big enough work shop, I have too many other hobbies and things I want to do, and then there was that whole life and family thing to consider. It's just as well given the realities: The yuppies, the developers, the drunks, and the teens own the lakes now, and every summer they take to them in droves - and a peaceful paddle where one can commune with nature and explore his soul are pretty much a pipe dream. Maybe it used to be that these boats could help you 'get away from it all' but now there is no real place to go unless you are willing to travel to the ends of the earth to get away from the hordes.

Fortunately there are any number of other ways to keep the soul satisfied and the hands busy.

Sunday, 25 February 2018

Wack-I-Doo, Wack-I-Doo, Packie-Doo, Turdo La Doo...

Looks like our packie go lucky prime minster tripped over his dink again... Ol' Turdo La Doo went to India, got his packies mixed up, and set off the locals. Years ago I worked in a diverse and vibrant shop - we all self segregated where the packies ran one part, the chinks ran another, the arabs/Lebanese another... and us poor white fellas fit in where we could. In any event, over in the Packie Dept, we had an opening for another employee. The plant manager found the nearest brown fella with a pulse - and parachuted him in to the company with his fellows. WW3 broke out! Apparently the one he hired was a hindu or a shik, and the others had a blood feud with this guy because of his tribe - and it ended badly with one of the vibrants going after another with a power drill! Ape kill ape, HAR HAR HAR! But it was okay - only whites can be racist, dontchya know. The offending mudflap was terminated for entirely politically correct reasons and replaced with another one of the right variety. Rest assured, no hatey racism was involved!  :)

Turdo La Doo did the same. In his haste to show how vibrant and virtuous he was - his retinue had too many of the wrong mudflaps in it and now the wogs have their panties in a twist and are pissed right off at Canada! Apparently one of 'em was an extremist mixed up with terrorism! LOL - I hope India will send their human trash somewhere else!!! That'll learn us real good! HAR HAR HAR! We have enough trash of the home-grown variety!

S'pose I better explain that last one: Back when Canada was still a country with it's own culture, back before the advent of fwenchmen, feminism and faggotry that came to dominate Canukistani culture - back when I was just a filthy little tot ... we had honest to God Canadian children's programming.

That's Mr. Dressup with Casey and Finnegan. He was
Canada's answer to America's Mr. Rodgers.

When I was a kid everything shut down when Mr. Dressup came on. He was God's gift to us kids - and more so to our mothers, I suspect. Because when this guy talked - all the kids would listen. For a brief hour, Mom didn't have to cope with screaming kids. She could do chores, chat with the neighbours, or just sit back and have a coffee knowing that Mr. Dressup had the kids and all was well.

He would invite firemen, policemen and tradesmen on his show and they would even go out to the jobsite sometimes. He was an artist too - and would draw pictures for us little rugrats while he told a story about the drawing. He'd probably be spinning in his grave to see our prime minister, and what's happened to his beloved CBC these days.

10 Megatons VS 1 Milliton...

Looks like Pop hit critical mass and is melting down on the BBQ too...

We are getting warm temps for a bit up here in Aaaaaaadmontin. I might seriously stoke up the fire pit and burn some meat this week. Feb and March are beautiful months up here, they're bright and windy and sometimes you get a whiff of spring. A stolen session on the BBQ breaks up our long winters and makes them more bearable.

The Two Happiest Days Of A Boat Owner's Life

... is the day he buys the boat, and the day he sells it.

Years ago I bought a little rubber Zodiac with a 9.9 HP outboard and had visions of myself dressed in plaid, fishing at the crack of dawn with a thermos full a coffee, a pipe and a bag of tobacco... on a lake as smooth as glass. It didn't work out that way.

Alberta doesn't have many real 'lakes'. They're mostly sloughs. Most of our fisheries have collapsed too - thanks to the red niggers  ... ahem, 'First Nations Aboriginals' abusing their red privilege and over fishing their commercial quotas by over 300%. And of course nobody can say anything about it because RACISM.

The other problem was the big power boats and cruisers. The adults quickly get bored with them and hand them over to the kids - and they don't care where they drive. Pour some booze into them and things get really stupid. Me and my little rubber boat got doused and nearly run over a dozen times. Then there's the personal watercraft ripping along too, scaring all the fish - and there's no real place for the old fart on the water any more. I sold my boat ten years later without hardly ever getting any use out of it. It's okay, it was a small boat and I didn't have any real money in it - but I was so happy to get it out of my shed.

I was heartbroken when hunting went the same way. First, my favourite spot in the foothills got over-run by redneck rig pig trash. They would drag their 5th wheelers in, their screaming kids, their ghetto blasters and booze - and leave with a pile of trash left behind when they left. The white niggers aren't much better than the red ones I guess. I found another spot, bought an ATV to get into and out of it... and life was golden for a few years. Then life happened, I got old, and I would find myself out in the middle of nowhere, with a nice buck or doe down the cut line - and I would just shrug and wonder why I was there. It's a game for younger men, I enjoyed it when I was in it and shot some nice animals - but the time comes to leave the trappings of youth behind. I didn't enjoy it anymore and rather leave it all to younger men that did.

Today I am not materialistic at all. I look at these idiots mortgaged to the hilt, selling their souls to pay bills on stuff they don't want or need - and I thank God that He gave me the sense and the wife to live the way I do.

I shouldn't brag about my humble piety; I am an unrepentant gun whore, and I do like my motorcycle and a few other toys - but as I get older I find that I don't really mind the frugal lifestyle at all.

Saturday, 24 February 2018

When They Were Queens

When I was a kid, I think women could still sew clothes at home for cheaper than they could buy them. I shudder at some of the shit my mom made me wear. She thought she was a good sewer and she tried, I guess. She put a lot of effort into it. I was too young at the time to see that or appreciate it. I hated the clothes the women in my family made for me and now as an adult looking back - I feel ashamed and sorry for them. But gawd, I'm glad I don't have to put up with that anymore, HAR HAR HAR!

Today my wife is an outhouse seamstress and if I recall, she said it's almost impossible now for the home seamstress to make clothes cheaper than they can be bought at the store. But she does it for fun. As a man wisely keeping his mouth shut and looking on at all this - I have to admit that I am just fascinated by the machine. The new ones are all microprocessor based now - women can download a patter off the internet and the machine will embroider crests and logos as good as the ones you get from the pros. About the only reason to sew now is if you want to make something truly unique. My wife can make some seriously cool stuff. When I get working again, I am going to ask her to make me one of these:

It's called a 'capote' and it is all the 
rage amongst the contemporary black powder geeks
and the fur traders of yesteryear.
One of my arch enemies at the Edmonton House Brigade
wore one with antique coins for buttons.
They're made from Hudson's Bay Blankets.

We have one of these as a curio downstairs - it was the machine my wife learned to sew on.

All ours needs is a leather fly wheel belt
and it could go
right back to work today.

I thought this thing was a valuable antique and we did some research on the old singer - only to learn that they are a dime a dozen and some folks can't give them away. Whatever - I still like ours.

Saturday Morning Cartoons

Come with me, my friends, back to my childhood...
Bring your guns.

An Interesting Conversation At The A-House


It's one of those things in life every man dreads - and then once ya go through it, ya sit back and think, "Huh. I was all bent out of shape over that???" because it wasn't the big deal you thought it was.

I was just devastated when I had to face the inevitable back in my early 40's - shave it, or do the bad comb-over thing. I got the Bic out and went to work. After two days I was over it, and have never looked back. The wife will still love you, your friends will all be a-holes about it - but as long as there's a good rude joke in it for everyone... who cares...? 

Sometimes in the summer I just shave it right down to the wood and life couldn't be better. No sweaty, tangled hair! When ya work up a sweat, ya give your forehead a wipe with an old hat or a rag - and back to work you go! Get out of the shower, give your head a shake - and get on with your day! No barbers is nice too.

I remember 100 years ago I had hacked The Crack's computer because I needed to know what he was screwing up and how he was ticking off my customers. I got all his other computer info too; and one of the more amusing ones was his Plenty Of Fish account. I thank God Almighty for my wife and marriage, because I would HATE to be in the dating game at this stage of my life. In any event - one of the conversations The Crack had going there was with a smoking hot cougar who looked 15 years younger than she was - and her rule was "No bald old farts". You should have seen the chit storm of protest from the fellas - all whining at her because she did not like bald men! HAR HAR HAR!!! It was pathetic! (Needless to say, so was The Crack's participation in that discussion - he was as bald as I am). I guess pickin's are slim in the internet dating game at our age. 

It's one of life's chit burgers, boys: sooner or later, a lot of us get to that stage in life where you can do the bad comb over, or buzz it. I chose to buzz it. For me it wasn't even a choice. I suppose a rug might have been an option, but that's just not me.

All hope is not lost, however. Me and the guys got together and we decided that if BW Bandy dies in a horrible motorcycle accident - I gut his scalp, Jack gets his liver, and all his other remaining organs will be parted out to those who have use for them.

Friday, 23 February 2018


I guess they don't get along well with domesticated airplanes....

Blessed St. John Moses, Take Me Now...

If I don't go to hell when I die, I hope my spirit settles in a place like this:

Can you imagine the bed wetting, wailing and sobbing that would happen here in Canada or the US if somebody opened a range like that...?

Even The Z Man Is Saying It...

Everywhere our Prime Minister goes, he embarrasses us. Even the Z Man said Justin Turdo is an idiot on his blog today. Hell, even Canadian liberals are saying he's an idiot.

Ya'd wonder how a fella can embarrass his nation in a shithole country, but ol' Turdo La Doo managed it:

Why, he amost looks like a pakie himself!
I think his son is cluing into the fact that his dad is a moron too.

Nobody knows what he's doing there, really. He poses for photo ops dressed up like a swami or a rag head and even the brown fellas are scratching their heads wondering what is up with this guy. You'd never see that syphallitic whoreson do that for Christian Canadians back at home, that's for sure.

I may be asking too much but I would like to think that at some point, the ethnics and vibrants would get sick of being patronized by a dufus like this.

Thursday, 22 February 2018

Eeeew!!! What Kinda CREEP Does Something Like That?

What kind a sick degenerate does a meme like this?
It's enough to ruin guns AND sex!
Who knows in this age of sexually disturbed
degenerates, HAR HAR HAR!!!

For those of you who aren't familiar with this YouTubing gun slinging Texan - he's Hickock 45, and one of my personal favourite gunnies.

Get out your visa cards and tensor bandages boys.

30 Milliseconds Before The Frying Pan Hit...


Wednesday, 21 February 2018

Oh Hell Yes

Sorry to keep carping on the gun stuff, but I can't resist:

100 years ago Black And Decker was the last word for home owner tools and that was Pop's brand. Back then everything they made was metal and the only plastic you saw on the tool was the trigger button or on the cord.

By about the time I was old enough to start buying tools, the Black And Decker brand was whored out and their tools were cheap junk - their DeWalt line seemed to be the one to buy at that time - and that is what I went with. Shortly after I was fully invested in DeWalt, they seemed to go downhill too and the cool kids round here all went to Mikita. I got one of their belt sanders and its alright I guess, never had a problem with it. Last I looked the cool kids are all on Milwauke now - and I have a chit mix of old tools downstairs now.

My favourite cordless drill is an old DeWalt and probably ready for the garbage... and I think my drill in the camper is Porter Cable. I dunno if there is a 'best' brand for home owner tools anymore. Everything I bought works pretty good so who knows.

Notes From A Nation With Successful Gun Controls: A Brief Tutorial

I didn't say much about the school shootings in America because the Z Man said it best: Here we go again. Yawn. Some demonic loon flips out, the usual suspects make the usual noise, nothing gets done, and everything settles down again after the usual retards are finished with their virtue signalling and blood dancing. As he says, you accept it and go through life and hope it never happens to you.

But the problem with gun owners is that when these things happen, we get on that hamster wheel with the anti-gun morons too and we get defensive. Look - anyone with a triple digit IQ knows that guns aren't the issue here. If we had a fair and honest media, you WOULD hear about the rapists that get shot trying to molest their victims. You WOULD hear about the failed liberal social experiment that went to a church picnic with a duffel full of guns - and got shot twice in the chest by a mother defending the kids... before he could even pull the trigger. You only see this kind of thing in the gun lobby newsletters - the press buries them or downplays them and seldom reports on them at all. The people at the top of the gun control food chain are smart, they know better than this, and they think they know better than you - which is why, in their eyes, you must be disarmed. They don't give a damn about crime or victims - they are worried about YOU. They are using these tragedies to push a darker, more sinister agenda.

Up here in Canada we have a solid majority of liberal morons. (Our current swine minister makes Obama look like a MENSA warrior). We got the gun laws to show for it too. 20 years ago a pasty faced shit named Allan Rock was waving his fat little fists around and publicly threatening gun owners with 'house-by-house searches' for unregistered firearms. He was the fart catcher for our librano prime minster of the time, Jean Poutine Cretin - a screwfaced idiot that couldn't speak either of the nation's official languages fluently. We got a useless 2 billion dollar gun registry (which was later on deep-sixed), and a raft of idiotic laws:

  • Under Canadian gun law, you do NOT have the right to remain silent
  • The police do NOT have to worry about due process in search and seizure of privately held firearms.
  • Nor do they have to provide a receipt on property they take, and there is no time limit on how long they can hold your firearms once they take them - whether the case is pending or not.
  • By simply doing nothing (as in not registering your guns) - you become a criminal under federal law.
The laws that passed were so bad, even our cops and judiciary (both of which are infested with liberal asshats) - won't enforce them. In BC, some old farmer had a 22 out in the barn that had been there for years. A cop noticed it, hauled the poor old fella in - and the judge threw the case out! He told the farmer to register the damn gun, he told the cops to stop wasting the court's time with this bullshit, and that if he ever saw stupidity like this in his courts again - there would be consequences. The cops got the message loud and clear and even at my gun club that we share with them - they don't look twice at guys like me with AR15's and M14's. They let me have their brass when they're done training. Long story short: The cops and courts don't want this crap either - it's the emotionally distraught victims, stupid people that can't or won't understand the issue - and the evil sonsabitches that are using them to push an agenda. Gun control is pretty much a dead issue up here in Canada but could flare up at any time.

To give you an idea of how our gun laws currently work:

Under Canadian gun law, this rifle is a normal long gun
and classified as unrestricted. It is the Swiss Classic
Green rifle. Citizens that own them
don't have to register them with the cops.

Because the AR15 looks scarier to liberal morons, it 
is classified as a restricted firearm and
must be registered with the police. Obtaining
the licence to own one is a little more involved than the one required
for unrestricted firearms.
Not only do restricted firearms (which include all pistols) must 
be registered with the police, you
must have a separate permit to carry them around
in a locked case and only to-and-from the gun club. You can only use them at the range.

This Tavor is classified as unrestricted too. Our liberal
overlords probably think it's a squirt gun.

The AK47 is in the prohibited class.
Dirt people like you and I are not allowed to own them at all.

The CZ rifle is unrestricted and is legal as church on Sunday.

The FAL is a 'Prohib'. Pull one a these out at the range and
you can go to jail.

That's right! Legal as church on Sunday!

So - does everybody see the logic here? It should be intuitively obvious to everyone that Canada's lower crime rates are the result of our superior liberal gun control law! HAR HAR HAR!!!! Most Canadians gun owners got so disgusted we pretty much disregard the laws altogether and own whatever we want. I've seen a few FAL's disappear off the gun bench at the club when the cops drive in. The cops themselves see it too and don't say anything. I'm sure the guys are blamming away with them back in the bush or on the back 40 all the time too. The thing about gun control in Canada is that it is simply unenforceable. The liberals got their idiot laws, we pay the merest lip service to them as owners, and the cops and courts unofficially refuse to enforce them on otherwise law abiding citizens.

In fact, awhile back some idiot at the RCMP wanted the Swiss rifle reclassified as 'Prohib' and the call went out to owners to turn them in. Think about that - you're a Canadian gun club duffer with one of these - you probably paid $3.000.00 for it - and some canary legged red coat faggot decides he doesn't want you to have one anymore. What do you do? You give the cops the finger and keep it! Not one rifle was turned in when they tried that. The cops at my club became persona non grata, and we started motions to withdraw the use of our facilities for law enforcement. I felt bad for the boys, but they had to pick a side in this and if they were going to side with the bad guys, they could go do their training someplace else. More than a few were members as well as cops and they sided against their employers too.

All this seems to underline the difference between Americans and Canadians though. Americans love their Constitution and rightfully so. Up here in Canada, most of us couldn't care less about ours. Every time we turn around there's some hairy chested feminist she-twink, or some Marxist frog, or some homosexual tacking on riders and revisions to it so that nobody knows what it says anymore and nobody could care less. It's unfortunate because everything else goes out the window too, when liberals start messing with your constitutions and rights. Your cops become untrustworthy or outright thugs, your Supreme court becomes a joke, and doors start opening for perverts, degenerates, liars, thieves and cheats to do what they do under the protection of the law. We get away with it up here in Canada because the nation is so large and the bad guys are stretched too thin. But our more urbanized centres are starting to fall. I just don't see how giving up rights will help us if that spreads.

If I had one recommendation for Americans, it would be this: if the Second Amendment falls - then you let those liberal fart suckers know that it ALL falls. Their right to free speech goes out the window with your right to keep and bear arms. That in turn should be a declaration of war against those who support the Constitution, and those that won't. Because once you let one group of miscreants start chipping away at it - they will ALL want to re-write it in their favour.

And the worst thing for everyone happens when idiots get what they want.

Tuesday, 20 February 2018

Sunny Goes To The Big City...

... and comes back in pieces...

Monkey Business On The Soccer Field

We're Getting Dangerous This Week At The Thunderbox

We're supposed to be getting some nice weather here in Alberta this week, and any break will mean a trip for me out to the range. I need to sit down and dial my guns for 300m - that's the max for our rod n' gun club and as far as shooting at game - that's about as far as I want to shoot.

The problem is I have fallen back in love with my retirement rifles. I have too many damn guns and I really need to do something about that in the worst way. This week, riding along will be my classic heart throbs:

Shooting black powder cartridge guns insn't much fun in winter.

I like to go smokeless in winter. With black powder cartridges, I like to throw the brass into warm soapy water the second after they're fired - it neutralizes the salts left by the combustion before they can attack the brass. Mopping bores is a pain in cold weather too. Getting your hands wet in winter is not pleasant. So - I just load up patty-cake smokeless shells that approximate the performance of black powder rounds and it's all good enough for winter practice. I have the single shot roller figured out and under control... but that lever gun has me perplexed.

It's a Uberti repro of the 1876 Winchester Centennial gun, chambered in the historically correct .45-75 cartridge. That chambering was relatively short lived and not that popular - in fact, the only guys that took it seriously were our own North West Mounted Police up here in Canada - and even they threw it out after a relatively short period! It's so obscure, that if you can find it, a box of 20 shells will run between $90.00 and $160.00. The only guys that made brass for it seem to have gone MIA. I have about 200 virgin Jamison brass cases that people would happily kill me for. I am probably the only guy in western Canada with a stash like that - and no, I ain't sellin'! I hear that I may be able to form new cases from a parent case like the 50-90 Sharps... and I am not looking forward to that - but I'll do it in time if I must. Reloading data is almost non-existent; I might find some in an out of print Lyman manual if I can find it, and some other internet stubfarts have dabbled in reloading. This week I am going to try a 350 gr. home cast bullet over 40 gr. of IMR3031. I'm pretty sure I won't blow myself up... but I am off the beaten path with this. What I've done is take the mildest starting loads for the antique 45-70 round (for which there IS a lot of information) - and backed it off a smidge to start in my lever gun above. The gunnies on the forums that I trust have given me the go ahead - but I hate trusting internet loading data. You can bet I'll have the chronograph on this one - I want a nice, safe, slow 1400 FPS out of this gun. I have guns I can hotrod if I want - this one is my Model T of my gun collection, and isn't meant for street racing.

That's a standard .308 on the left, the obscure .45-75 in the middle, and a standard 45-70
on the end. The lead bullets were cast by 
a grumpy old hair lipped retard who wishes to remain nameless.

I can't remember the last time I shot factory ammunition. It's bizarre... now I am casting my own bullets too. When you start reloading AND casting your own bullets, the hobby becomes much more rewarding and a helluva lot cheaper! 

Wish me luck on this one boys. 

Monday, 19 February 2018

After A Delicious Meal Of Tide Pods...

... we like to give our meals time to digest, and relax and savour the experience of fine dining with friends - and an after-dinner-cigar...

Lighting a cigar with a tazer...?
I think we have our next fad here, people...!

I Have Been Run Off Of Good Trout Streams By Bears...

...but never a cougar before...

Sunday, 18 February 2018

Uncle Bob Lives

But: Can He Do It With Zoodles? Alpha-Ghetties?

Turdo La Doo Goes To India

Nobody including the rug riders know why he's there or cares, apparently. He and his Libranos just hopped on Air Farce One and took to the skies!

Why wasn't I invited? I speak indian and packie very well. In this situation, I would have said
For those of you ignerattii that aren't by-languaged
that means
"Wanna see my socks...?"

The Case For The 338 Lapua Magnum

Spotted In The Coopville Gift Shop...

I never woulda thunk CM was into merchandising like that!

Gits And Shiggles With My Former Employer

Welp, the timelines are all run out, my former employer was given every chance to square with us - and we got squat. When you work in sales, one of the biggest cons is the way commissions are paid. My former employer was playing fast and loose with that, it's been my experience that most small company employers do. I knew it, but didn't care for 9 of the 10 years I worked for the company. I figured for the work I was doing, I was entitled to a pay cheque of X amount of dollars, and if they were scamming a bit I didn't care because I was treated really well - and that is worth money, to me, at least. In my final year with them I was treated like chit, had my pay cut twice, and was threatened by my idiot national sales manager every time he opened his fat mouth.

Most of our financial woes are due to the oil bust. Compounding that, we have a socialist fwench whoreson for a prime minister, and a menopausal socialist bint for a premiere. Both are former public education slobs that never had to be accountable or produce results - and we have the economy to show for it. When the market imploded, I can imagine that the heat on our national sales manager must have been intense. But rather than step up with improved sales ideas and strategies - he blamed me for the diving sales, accused me of misconduct, incompetence, and dishonesty - and the writing was on the wall. I was to be the scapegoat for all his problems in Alberta. I put up with it as long as I could and then quit. Now I am going to see if we can sic the lawyers on him and turn the tables on those assholes. I know where their skeletons are buried, I gave them a chance to come clean - and they started abusing the other salesman after I left and he quit too. I know enough about tort law to be dangerous - I do know that the evidence I have of their 'aggressive accounting' in payment of commissions may be actionable, but I don't know if it will be worth it. Ya don't know unless you ask - so we're going to take in our documents and pay stubs and see where that goes. I am hoping a threat of an audit will scare them shitless and make them amenable to reason.

Everyone thinks lawsuits are like winning the lottery. We read daily of the stupidest ones generating big cash and prizes for frivolous louts abusing the court process. Most of them are hogwash, the really stupid rulings are overturned on appeals. The object of the lawsuit process is to get the parties to settle out of court. I'm okay with that too. About the only systemic abuse I have seen is in family and divorce courts.

On another note, the other day I was cruising the job boards and saw an ad by my former employer looking for a new Branch Manager. With out their sales guys to blame for diving sales - they're now pointing fingers at Big Al - my former 'boss' of sorts. Al and I locked horns and fought about everything and I usually lost - which explains a lot about our plummeting sales. But he was a trooper, he gave a chit, so I sent him a text and let him know the management were advertising his job - would he mind if I applied for it? HAR HAR HAR! Al - I trained him well! The same way my former mentor, Lesiure Suit Larry trained me! LOL!

God bless him, the big farm kid phones up the CEO wanting to know why his job is being advertised - but the Prez is too busy to talk to the dirt people in his company. So he phones the Comptroller and demands an explanation - and gets some mealy mouthed crap about how "his job is secure for now, and they are just trying to see if they can improve the team...". Al hangs up in his ear, HAR HAR HAR! He calls the Prez back and goes to voicemail. "Mr. President, I have your company truck, your company cell, and your company iPad. I've seen the ad for my job on the boards, and I want an answer on what your intensions are. I am not going to lift a finger from here on out until you talk to me. You can either apologize to me in writing and withdraw that ad, or grow some balls and let me go with or without cause and we will settle in court. I can be reached at home at 780..."

Years ago I used to think my bosses that I worked for got into their positions because of merit and ability. Over the last year I've watched these clowns lose all their front end people. A year ago my cohort in crime left the company with half our inside support team and set up shop competing against us. They aren't doing that well either in this economy, but they are holding on to their people. Those of us that stayed loyal and remained behind? This is how we've been treated.

Maybe it's all as legal as church on Sunday, or maybe it's not worth pursuing with lawyers. I will be most interested to find out.

Friday, 16 February 2018

Raising The HMCS Skandic

It's coming up on that time a year again boys. We're probably
okay around my area for now - but the ice will be going 
rotten soon.


From CW's Friday Open Road Files...

I like this...

Up here in Alberta I've seen a few antique gizmos similar to this but with a carrying handle. The idea is you fire it up with a few lumps of coal and then take it out to the outhouse with you to keep ya warm while ya do your business. I've only seen them once or twice and would love to have one myself.

Dunno what I'd do with it - but it was cool.

We're Going Upstairs With This One, Men...

I think we should kill it, but Chicken Mom may have other ideas...

Something Here, From Somewhere Else...

I dunno where it was I had surfed to on the internet the other day, but yannow how one link leads to another, and another - and sometimes you end up in the damnedest places? I seemed to land in a bunch of odd places that were all connected in the damnedest way. I have my differences with Sarah Hoyt but she was bang on the money with this old post.

As a kid I was a big Heinlein and SF fan and the idea of the adults in my world going crazy with blatantly silly notions was beyond me. I grew up in an orderly world where if ya followed the rules you could count on doing well for yourself. But things seriously started going stupid at the turn of the century. I read Sarah's screed, paused to reflect, and surfed on. And then came across this:

Those comedians represent one half of my family
right now. Seriously. Half our nation thinks like this too.

Yeah, I can see how the world can go to hell. That little clip drives home how much power the lunatics have control of  us now, and of how poisoned minds can infect others.  And speaking of lunacy - another school shooting, and another round of blood dancing, virtue signalling, and calls for gun control. I can't believe these people: for 30 years now, these idiots have been calling for gun control. This despite the fact that it has failed everywhere it's been tried. And - they have absolutely no clue about what causes these things - so they blame the gun. As memes often do, this one grabbed the crux of the issue by the roots - and pulled.

I think it's okay to question your faith. But fer all that's holy, 
ask smart questions - or you
shall surely get stupid answers.

I'm half way through the new testament. Good lord, the deeper I get into this thing - the more ashamed I become. I was raised by liberals and fake conservatives that taught me the bible was a pantload, that Christians were shysters, arrogant, and hypocrites. For 53 years I believed that. Yet with each passing chapter, I see that book pushing responsibility, love, judgement, humbleness... how did we let loons tell us that faith has no place in schools? And how could I have been so stupid to listen to such people, without questioning them in all that time?