Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

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

Saturday, 30 June 2018

Today's Hate Crime: Inappropriate Laughter

Before you bung holes look at the meme below - I will be watching you all VERY closely. If anyone so much as smirks - you'll catch the very hell of it! You have been warned.

HAR HAR H- errrr… that's raycisssssss!!!!!

Good work everyone! As long as nobody's having any fun on the internet, everything is good! Now - if anyone needs me, I am off to Gab where I will be frowning and sadly shaking my head at all the rude jokes.

Errr… don't let any of the retarded kids play with that until the niggers negroes Aferkin Murkins have been whited out. Wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea dontchya know...

Seeing A Lot Of Stuff Like This

Gonna probably see more of it too.
Sooner rather than later.

That is one angry little lady. In better times, when we were better people, I would say something like 'she's too young and pretty to be angry and bitter like that'. But the culture war is what it is; it's everywhere, it's in our nation, it's in our communities,  it's in our families. When it comes among us it breaks us up. Coming from a family of  progressive liberals and soft conservatives cucks as I do - I find I have no place among their tolerant, enlightened ranks anymore. I have the wrong opinions, I hold the wrong values, I am not of the hive. If I hadn't left, they probably would have unpersoned me and driven me into the void - they way they do to all that disagree with them.

For a long time l sounded like that lady in the vid. She sounds like that because she hasn't come to terms with or cut her losses. They still hurt, and if she's not careful she can make those wounds worse by licking at them too much the way dogs will.

Light years ago, the summer long weekend meant sunshine, beer, BBQ, horseshoes, picnic tables and rude jokes. Maybe warm rain. But a certain selfish, manipulative young lesbian decided that the family had things to fight about, we all agreed and that was that for that. POOF! Three generations of family - gone like it was never there. My wounds from the culture war have closed over and begun to heal; I miss those times but not the people. They aren't the same folk anymore. You can never go home.

If you are a new victim of the culture war long  formerly family weekends can be tough. There are no words that can ease the hurt or make things right - all you can do is find a tribe. For my wife, she joined the local church and they love her and I the way they love their own kids. It's like having parents and grandparents again - that aren't assholes. There's tons a kids around to harass and tease too. It might not be your answer but it works for us.

Today I am going flying, then we'll pack up the camper and head out after church tomorrow. I will probably catch some chit for falling behind on my bible reading but I have time. I am going to go for a burn on Big Red too. The wife said she might relent - she has this stupid rule about me and fireworks and explosives (can't imagine why) - and she said she might buy me a sparkler today! Woohoo!!!! Keep your hands and head busy, and keep your spirits up!

Have a great long weekend too. You deserve it.

Thursday, 28 June 2018

And Not One F*** Was Given

I know it's unchristianly to think like this. But seriously - I won't be at all surprised if we don't see more of this, and I find it hard to feel any sympathy for the victims.

I am deadly serious too - go to any mass media news outlet - and it's like getting trolled by children. Stupid children. I know, they are just trying to make a buck selling copy, but media slobs are going out of their way to taunt conservatives or anyone else with a triple digit IQ that works for a living. They think they're being edgy and controversial by pandering to degenerates, marginals and ethnics. It's all in the name of balanced, objective reporting, dontchya know! Or at least, that's what they say. It's gotten so bad that I very seldom read anything out of them at all anymore. I skim the headlines and every day there's some feather headed turd brain writing a troll piece telling me and folks like me - how utterly stupid we are, how we don't have a right to our own opinions, or success or even the money in our own wallets. I've seen the hit pieces too - where otherwise good people have their lives and reputations ruined by these arrogant arseholes who have an agenda and a narrative to push. Mass media slobs breezily say the shittiest things in print knowing full well they'd get punched out on the street if they said such things there. If the same thing happened at the New Yawk Slimes, or the Glob & Pail, or the Tranna Star - I would whistle a merry tune and buy a round for the house! These reporters have literally gotten people killed by running their mouths and stories without regard for the people involved. They've literally become pawns in propaganda and culture wars, taken sides, thrown shots and deliberately hurt people and they've done it for decades... with impunity. As a gun owner, as a conservative, as a white male - I have been putting up with these arseholes for years and I am heartily sick of it. If I slander and libel somebody I go to court and get punished. They go public with their lawfare and get ratings.

The pen may or may not be mightier than the sword - but like a sword, it cuts both ways and if the guy wielding it doesn't understand that, he's liable to die by that sword too. That is certainly why they want to disarm us too.

No, I won't wish harm on these filthy journalists - but I sure as hell won't shed any tears for them. They won't be in my thoughts and prayers either, I'm sorry to say.

Funny How That Works, Isn't It?

I get a headache sometimes, wondering how shitlib victimology works. We have an oppressed, marginalized woman getting put through the wringer because of her ropey mouth, who was mercifully spared from getting burnt at the stake for her heresy, who will never be forgiven no matter how much she apologizes. And we have a mealy mouthed turd brained icky old white man who tosses off an insincere apology and all is forgiven.

A Different Kind Of Flying

When I first got into this Crapcopter business, the builds were big, clunky, inefficient and some were downright stupid. I've flown a V-Tail for years now and it was supposed to have superior handling characteristics to the standard X or H quad multirotors… but if it was better I never saw any inkling of it. Flapz flew one of the original early Tricopters and we all thought it was the cutting edge in multirotor foolishness. The tail rotor was a mechanical nightmare - the flight controller had to make dozens of corrections per second and that played hob with the servos and motor mounts.

A mechanical marvel five years ago - the Tricopter is an obsolete POS

The countryside is probably littered with unrecovered wrecks of these things. Very few RC geeks will fly these today. I have always liked the look of weirdo flying machines and liked the looks of the TriCrapter… but the reliability issues with them scared me away.

Then I found something very similar; the so-called Y4. 4 motors, but 2 are mounted on the tail boom. The one I am going to build is a crispy mini, less than a third the size of the one above. Instead of a motor on an eleaborate moving mount, it just uses angular momentum - or torque - to turn and maneuver.

This little bugger is about 3" from rotor to rotor

I am really enjoying the midget copters because everyone seems to get a bang out of them. My big black V Tail would make creeps like Quartermain and Jack go for their 12 bores because the damned thing looked AND sounded sinister as hell. It was slow and easy prey for old buggers with anti-aircraft equipment, HAR HAR HAR! But these little ones are fast, quiet and they buck the wind just as good as the big ones. I have the frame coming in within the next week, and now I am crunching numbers to see what motors and props I should get. This little bugger is going to be the most challenging build yet because my fingers are fatter n' sausages, and soldering in the tight confines of a tiny airframe like this is going to be a real bear. My eyes are so damned bad now I have to take off my glasses and nearly put my nose in the puddles of solder to see them up close like that.

The retired stubfarts at the airfield hate these things with a passion, because any idiot (including Yours Truly) can fly them, where as the fixed wings take a fair degree of skill especially in wind. But what drives them absolutely bonkers is that these things can do stuff the fixed wings can't.

If you're up for it - strap in and get your barf bags out! You're gonna need 'em - as ace drone pilot Nurk and his fearless aviators dive a 1750 foot cell tower! The sissies, flimps and the old buggers from the Admontin RC club should probably give this one a miss.

OMFG! I'm gonna hurl!!!!
I am so going to do this once I am done cleaning up the mess!

Wednesday, 27 June 2018

Cuffler's Corner

I learnt a new word today. A 'cuffler' is an old gun club stubfart, commonly missing one side of his brain - that enjoys antique curios and relics, particularly of the firearm persuasion. I just found this one bandied about on one of the gun forums:

Lookit this. I wonder how it works...

Apparently it is a repeater.
Just looking at it I would say she's a black powder cartridge gun,
but any passing scholars are invited to edjikate us in the comments.

Filthie's Wild Animal Kingdom: Perverts

Urk! HACKAFFFF!!! Sput….!!! Harrrumppffff!!! Why - how RUDE!!!
I think we'll just cancel this episode right here...

Friggin Memes!

There are so many rude memes and internet jokes going round ya don't know whether they're true or not. I woulda thunk this was a joke but ya never know: they did a female Ghostbusters that flopped at the box office and the response from the audience was ridicule. I read someplace else that the producers of star wars are getting raked over the coals and threatened with their jobs. They're losing money - something about the movies appealing to the elderly lesbian social justice warriors (that don't typically go to movies) rather than the adventure loving boys that do. They want entertainment and a story when they go to the theatre and they're getting social justice lectures from socialists and degenerates instead.

So - is this a joke? Or is Disney going to whore out their classics for the angry chubsters, femcnuts, and grievance whores?

Jack Is Mellowing Out In His Old Age

Tuesday, 26 June 2018

Gun Porn? Or Perversion?

Harumpppffff! I dunno what to think about that! There are some really stupid things going on in the gun industry right now. First we had a massive dump of proprietary chamberings that were ballistic duplicates of each other. Then we had the AR15 craze which resulted in a lot of brilliant innovations and improvement - and a lot of flashy junk too. Now we have revolvers coming out that are best described as 'pocket cannons'. They are so large and generate so much recoil that they are almost unusable. The starry eyed noobs see them, and because bigger is always better they buy them and turn themselves into neurotic flinching idiots. That pic above almost looks like a half arsed effort at redeeming the breed.

But on the second look, I see a crappy bipod and an optic on a short range weapon that can't properly take advantage of either. Kinda looks cool though.

How A Man Starts A Fire...

… says a lot about him.

I dunno what the issue here is, but apparently somebody has an issue with it.

Good Morning

Monday, 25 June 2018

Canadian Hate

In Canada it is illegal to hate anything. The warm-fuzzies are the law of the land, and all degenerates, traitors, and blackhearts - foreign and domestic - are to be treated as much loved teddies and care-bears. It Is The Canadian Way.

This meme-thing is semi-legal. Here in the frozen north it's as legal as church on Sunday to hate the band Nickelback. I dunno why that is. There is so much other Canadian music (and musicians) that suck cack - but only Nickelback is fair game for contempt.

But as a crusty old fart that hates whatever he damn well pleases - it's a step in the right direction, HAR HAR HAR!!!

Have a good Monday!

That One Cuts Both Ways

Suppose that one cuts both ways. But the stats I heard went something like this: 40% of all marriages end in divorce. Of those 40% of failed marriages - the woman in the marriage instigates 80% of them. I dunno how true that all is, it's just what I seem to be seeing on the internet. The stereotype that goes with that is that the fella goes to the cleaners and the lady goes to the bank: she gets the house, the car, the kids and the bank account and the fella gets the finger.

In point of fact though, that is not what I am seeing. Women that give their husbands the punt (that I have seen) are often one step away from poverty. If there's kids involved they are often haggard and tired as they try (and usually fail) to do the work of both parents, and they end up as lonely cat ladies. Or they have these odd non-relationships like my next door neighbour. He's was fairly well off until his divorce - but he did escape with one of his properties - the house next to mine. He is seeing a divorced lady who cashed out of her divorce with the house. They've been seeing each other for at least three years now - but they still live apart in their own homes. I dunno if I am misreading it, but I wonder if all they get out of that is keeping the loneliness at bay?

Why would ya want to live like that?

Saturday, 23 June 2018

Why Filthie Got Beat Up At The Rifle Range: Reason 1007

WL has already sealed my fate: I am going to load up some black powder rounds and slip 'em into the ammo stream of my arch enemies at the rod n' gun club and laugh like a loon when they get the big heartybasso BOOM and the smoke and unholy stink of the Holy Black instead of the faggy report from their unmanly smokeless propellants. But - after I get beat up for that... I am going to get pounded for this range box above.  HAR HAR HAR!!! HAR HAR HAR!!! AWESOME.

I was gonna get a Shiloh rifle when I turned 55 but it appears life and my Maker may have had other plans for me and my unsavory gun habit. Now it's looking like my rifle will have to wait for my 60th trip around the sun - but that's alright. I got time. And if I don't get the rifle in this life, I'll get it in the next one.

Behold perfection: The Filthie Rifleman!
The Montana Roughrider in .50-90 Sharps. Half round, half octagonal
barrel, matte finish, standard wood.
There'll be no money spent on fine engraving or embellishment;
this rifle will have the bulk of its investment in precision
Vernier sights.
The rifle will exist for one purpose: to punish enemy marksmen on the range
like Borepatch, Firehand and ASM.

While our friends at Shiloh are most certainly in the rifle business - they know what's what about the married man and have cleverly arranged a diversion for the ladies whilst us fellas take care of business when specifying our rifles. Even that is good for us guys - it is my scholarly opinion that women look better with sapphires than diamonds - but whadda I know?

All this talk of beatings, Sharps rifles, and women wearing sapphires - leaves me feeling good, bad and ugly! Perhaps some inspiring instrumental music is just what's needed on this fine Sunday morn!

Have a great Sunday folks.


Well she's been a busy day. I loaded up some vintage blackpowder ammunition for the retirement rifles this morning - and then set about prepping for the long weekend coming up. I think it's Pakistan Canukistan Canada Day or something next weekend. The vibrants all drive around with the maple leaf flying on their cars and the rest of us go camping!

I went down to the liquor store and was just disgusted with the scotch section. Oh, there's tons a scotch and different varieties - but they're all 'special bottlings' now in fancy bottles. The problem now is that because all of 'em are special - none of 'em are! Does that make sense? Even the crappiest scotch on earth - Famous Grouse - had a phony special offering called 'Black Grouse'. I bought a 48 of Bud and called it good. Last year at this time I bought a box of 30 and I am just finishing it off now. Dunno why I felt the need to buy the 48er but I did.

Next stop - the cigar shop! I've been waiting for this all year! I quit smoking 9 years ago. But once a year I indulge my love for tobacco. I could start again but steadfastly refuse to let it become a habit. Last year I smoked some stogies. I did feel the twinges of the old tobacco cravings but it was easy to subdue them. I am going to smoke this year too. Smoking is something very, very special and dear to me now - not the costly, mindless habit of an addict.

I bought two big gaggers, one for Flapz and one for me - and then a bunch in a tin. I want the tin because once I smoke all the cigars in it, I will use the tin to store cleaning patches for the retirement rifles.

She's gonna be a good weekend; preparations continue apace. Hope y'all have something fun lined up.

Silver Rivers

This bullet casting thing is a mystery to me. I don't get it. I bought a high end set of handles and spent top dollar for moulds and the goddamn things throw crappiest looking bullets you'll ever see - they are frost looking and look like they were cast by a hare lipped retard. (Shut it - don't even think of saying it!!!) HAR HAR HAR!!! But... they shoot just fine.

By contrast, my El-Cheapo Lee moulds throw bright, shiny cast lead pills that are suitable for shooting spooks, hobgoblins and vampires with! The bullets that fall from those moulds look like they were cast by a pro.

I should content myself; looks are only skin deep in this sport and all that counts is what happens down at the target - so I guess I am doing alright for now.


I am a man without mission. When I was younger I had several. Pay the bills, try to hold the family together, show up for work, do a good job, pay the bills, pay the bills, pay the bills. Now, my bills are all paid. Family's gone their way, I've gone mine.

It's been a hell of a ride. I found a faith that was not what I was led to believe it was. It allowed me to look at my fellow man in ways I never seen him before - and it gave me a sense of freedom that was staggering. Why am I here? What am I supposed to do with the freedom I worked toward all my life?

The question was answered this morning at 4:30 am. I was rudely rousted by a couple of four legged hoople heads, dragged around the walk at Centennial Park, and got eaten by mosquitoes. We saw a coyote and Mort immediately went into DEFCON 1 and planted himself between the critter and me. When it loped away he ran up front, herded Macey back to me and then took the point on the walk himself. A rabbit hopped out on the trail once the coyote was gone - and Mort didn't give it a second glance. He was in Threat Mode and his mission was to protect his pack and no bones about it. Once he was convinced the threat was past, he went back to being his usual self: an oafish, clownish retard.

Perhaps my place on this earth is as a focal point for the missions of others? Being lost isn't so bad, HAR HAR HAR! Welp - gotta go. We have coffee with Queen Mary, and after that I have a day in the cool dim basement, loading up black powder cartridge rounds for the Retirement Rifles. My mission now, I guess, is to stay out of the way, shut my gob and stay out of jail! Wish me luck! :)

Have a good weekend!

Friday, 22 June 2018

Friday Cup Of Mead: No Flowers For Algernon

Oh hi everyone!

It's been a couple tough days here at Uncle Bob's Institute For Wayward Boys N' Retards. A couple of seemingly small details came together to make a perfect storm at the institute: the first came when the Ritalin deliveries slipped. If that wasn't bad enough- we hired a creepy new substitute teacher that's learning the little bastards all kinds of bad stuff.

All of a sudden under his tutelage, otherwise peaceable retards started getting in all kinds of trouble! Quartermain invented an invisible sign language. Jack invented invisibility or he may have disintegrated himself - nobody's seen him since he blinked out of sight on Wednesday! WL wrote 7 spectacular poems, a novel and score for the Boston Philharmonic Pops, and Pete and TB are riding around in a flying machine without propellers, jets or rockets! It's been pandemonium.

Fortunately the drugs came in, and we coked up medicated all the little bastids to the gills! And peace and harmony return! Bob is colouring and getting more on the desk than on the paper, BW is drooling and staring into space at something only he can see, and the rest of 'em are doing things that quiet, docile retards do. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…. it's so relaxing!!!

And now that the students are back under control, maybe it's time I medicated myself! Join me if you're so inclined!

Have a great Friday

Good Luck With That Fellas

Right again.

I knew they were going to do that. Having come from a family of cucks and progs, I know how these people think. They live inside their own heads with the blinders on, and when the reality they refuse to see bites them on the arse - it's always a shock, and it's always somebody else's fault. One of the things those people hate the most about the rest of us is that we can see that stuff coming when they can't. I can tell what these idiots are gonna do and the fallout that will come of it despite the fact that I haven't watched a sitcom in years.

My prediction is that their new edgy show that will set the world on fire will open with spectacular success, and the hive will rejoice in that success and toot their own horns about it for a time. Then the ratings will start to slump because The Hive will be bored having their dogma parroted back to them, and people with a triple digit IQ tune out. Couple seasons, max, and the thing will get canned. Stuff like this may even have a net positive effect in that people will turn off that idiot box, get off the couch and go do something useful. The producers don't get that the audience for that show is made up of working class slobs that have paid the costs of diversity, political correctness and suffered the consequences. The fans are often like Rosanne herself - heretics that dared to notice the obvious or call a spade a spade. They care more about paying the bills and trying to get ahead in life. They know who is going to have to pay for those illegal beaners and human trash flooding across the borders with no skills or education, cratering the health and welfare programs as they come, they know why the globalist elite is facilitating that, and they are getting heartily sick of it too. The people pushing Rosanne under the bus are the same liberal ignoratti that were stunned into silence and tears when America rejected Hillary. But they will attribute their failures to racists, homophobes, and other deplorable demons of their faith.

Now if I were a Hollyweird Joo film magnate - I would cash in on this. I would hire Rosanne, and set her up opposite her old show and her ex-employers - with a new show of her own. It would be a sitcom aimed squarely between the eyes of the social justice warriors. It would offend the shit out of queers, moslems, Marxists, and other leftist vipers the way the Monty Python crowd offended Christians with The Life Of Brian. I would push freedom of speech right down to the wire with it and make sure the leftists sucked on that the same way the Christians were forced to, too.

One thing's fer sher: the assholes behind the cameras are almost as entertaining as the assholes in front of it! HAR HAR HAR!

Wednesday, 20 June 2018

Retard Pool Party: Thinking Ahead

Well our last retard pool party was RUINED by a few bad apples and a few floating logs. There's still probly a couple sinkers in the deep end - stop laughing, damn you lot! It ISN'T funny!!!

For this week's pool party we're thinking ahead. Guys like Jack, Pete and Quartermain are urged to take note:

Violators will be fished out with tongs and horse whipped!

Ain't Mine...

My readers of the mentally retarded variety are urged to check
to see if they are missing theirs.

I haven't been fishing for 100 years. Years ago I bought a boat and had visions of fishing like it was when I was a kid: early mornings, glass smooth lake, plaid jacket with a pipe and tobacco in the pocket and maybe a thermos full of coffee. 

When I got the boat - forget it. The lakes were full of the big inboard power boats towing water skiers, and the smaller sea-doos going every which way at full speed. Half the time the boats were full of kids and drunks. At the boat launch it was all out road rage as the boaters tried to butt in front of each other to get on or off the water. 

I sold the boat a year back and haven't missed it one bit. Not surprised that they are dredging up dildos from our lakes either to be honest. 100 years ago taking the kids to the lake was something that was fun, healthy and wholesome. But nowadays the lakes are ringed by yuppies with their lake front properties. Their feral kids have all the drugs and booze they need to ruin their own lives and that of their friends - and to me it's just not the place to be anymore. I like boondock camping, away from people and their self induced problems.

Filthie's Wild Animal Kingdom: Libertarians

Today Is Global Refugee Day!

It's a day to celebrate the mudflaps, push starts/pull starts/kickstarts, nine irons and bucket heads that flood into our countries to fill menial jobs! Be careful not to notice the ones that go on welfare, cause crime, and vote liberal.

Years ago I saw it described best on the wall of a roadside outhouse:

The third world is what  it is
because of the people that live there.
Now they're coming here.

Something stupid this way comes. And we're bringing it on ourselves.

Monday, 18 June 2018


Gawdammit. The birds got BW again.
Get your .22's out everyone! 

Turdo La Doo

The liberal rag sheets up here are all in a flather about 'how Trump is bullying' our fwench faggot of a prime minister. Turdo is strutting around proclaiming how 'Canada won't be pushed around' and our cuck conservatives are lining up behind him to sing the same tune. We are being told to 'buy Canadian to stick it to Trump' and the guy on the street just rolls his eyes.

As an Albertan I have more in common with Americans than I do with those liberal fart suckers out east. Those a-holes consistently elect corrupt and incompetent politicians. They are so damned stupid they will sell their votes to politicians who will pay them off with their own money.

I think Turdo has realized that most of the world and his own countrymen think (correctly) that he is a pussy - so he's trying to flex a little muscle to impress his fellow stupid kids. It's not working of course, and liberals are getting turfed up here in election after election. The only problem is though, we have no real conservatives to oppose them. Most of our conservative politicos are cucks and punching bags for the leftist mass media. I suppose anything's better than Turdo but the alternatives aren't that great either.

Sammich Artiste

More Retard Rocketeers

Harold Is On VERY Thin Ice

When you are a gun club duffer like I am, and hang around elderly sportsmen, bullchitters and liars a lot - you develop a tolerance for mental retardation and ropey mouths. You accept the fact that most of them are old and stupid, and that you are going the same way. But when I saw this one - let's just say fuggin Harold is darn lucky I wasn't within frowning distance, or he would have caught the very hell of it!!!

Looks like we got another student in need of special education
that only men like Uncle Bob
and Yours Truly can provide.

You can bet I'll be keeping a very sharp eye on that trouble maker - and the rest of you had better mind your P's n' Q's too! It's Monday, I'm sunburnt and crabby, and in no mood to be trifled with!

Try and have a good day. ;)

Sunday, 17 June 2018

A Fine Father's Day Weekend

Our Father's Day weekend got off to a rough start. The second I got home from work on Friday the rain and hail started. On Saturday we got up with the birds and loaded up the camper for the first weekend out of the year. Everything worked.

Summer is definitely here; it was hotter n' blazes but fortunately my mobile palace has air conditioning. Until the little Honda ran out a gas. I figured one tank should be good for a weekend but I was wrong. Plus - I'd run it earlier in the year for a couple hours so it probly only had half a tank.

The wild roses are out everywhere. I am not a man given to floral appreciation - but I love these. They are like all wildflowers in Alberta - ya gotta appreciate them fast because they are only around for a week or two and then they're gone.

The camp guards were deployed. I am brutally harsh with my dawgz on camp trips: even in sweltering heat they are expected to defend the camp against squirrels, cats, gun club morons and other wildlife.

The trailer appeals to both our inner children. For me it is the fort I always wanted as a child; for the wife it is her playhouse. She hasn't changed in all the years I've known her - in 15 minutes the camp is up, the beds are made, and she is pondering what to make for supper.

What a feast. The beans were stock, but she put bacon, red peppers and some other secret ingredients in them - and life was never so good. She grilled some Ass Par Agus and spuds over the fire like a champ.

After supper I brutally beat Macey and forced her to clean all the dishes. There is no slacking off or sympathy for dawgs in camp! HAR HAR HAR! The poor girl is getting old. She hates it, but sometimes I have to lift her in and out of the truck when she stiffens up. She likes shorter walks now too. She is one special little pot licker.

Flapz and M dropped in later that night, it seems I forgot my booze at home - and they had saved the day. They brought their nieces and I was in my glory! I drank half a quart of Auchentoshan and spent the night teasing the toddlers and talking to their teddy bears. They were enthralled with the dogs and walked them around - delighted that these monsters were happy to follow them.

I finally managed to get some serious range time in with The Retirement Rifle and my trusty cap n' ball pistol. It was awesome - I literally blew half the day on the range shooting and squaring away my favourite guns.

Afterwards I spent the afternoon on the tailgate of my truck cleaning my gats. Life doesn't get any better than that for a gun club stubfart; a big cup of coffee and some dirty guns.

Hope your Father's Day went well too.

Friday, 15 June 2018

Owning The Insult: A Musical Retort

Back in the last election, a dumpy old harridan in a muumuu was running for election to the office of the President of The United States. The lickspittles in the media were definitely in the bag With Her and had forcecast an election victory probability northward of 90%. Her political opponent was some old orange skinned fat white guy - and everyone hates old white guys, right?

But then the gaffs started. While the press took no notice, the disrespectful simians on the internet roared with derisive laughter. Her best was one in which she accused half the country of being a 'basket of deplorable racists and homophobes'. Wanks from one end of the internet to the other proudly proclaimed "We Are All Deplorables Now". Pepe The Frog became the detested and unwanted mascot of the Democrat bid for the presidency.

The really nasty (and funny) ones have now been purged and scrubbed from the internet.
Can't have any hateful statements about women from
the peasants now...

Liberal heads exploded across the nation like popcorn. The response from the internet was apologetic, and the wanks proclaimed "We Are All Racists Now". HAR HAR HAR!!! HAR HAR HAR!!

A new form of political warfare came arose that destroyed the  political cartoonists and media slobs who had previously used ridicule with devastating effect. Suddenly their political enemies turned the tables on them with something commonly referred to by Dirt People as the 'meme'.

One of the best guys at owning stupid insults thrown out by stupid people is the Z Man. His fans follow him on spreaker, oy-Tube and other venues. Some use Hitler phones, others are Android commies. The man has thoroughly RUINED music for me - whenever I hear 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun' I start cackling like a loon, thinking of his scholarly lectures on "Xirl Science" where the lead in to the lecture about transgendered, poly-amourous, multi-spritied - is the quirky tune from Cindi Lauper. (That song sucked back in the 80's too, BTW).

But his trademark retort to the inevitable accusations of racism and fascism from the usual morons was the concluding music of his podcasts. Now I go around work singing this merry tune to the utter rage of the office feminist. I can't help laughing when I hear this tune now too.

Put on your Hitler Youth uniforms everyone! And sing along!
Errr… I ever so dearly hope that no snowflakes were
triggered by this display of contempt and humour....!!!!

Tomorrow is Saturday - and it does indeed belong to you. May you own the months and years ahead as well. Have a good weekend.

Retard School Pop Gun Quiz

Identify the guns above from left to right.
No cheating, no hints from the studio audience, and no
whispering from the Peanut Gallery...!

Well chit. We were going to load up the camper and head out tonight but we are getting lightning, hail, and my Maker is rolling barrels around up there. I don't mind, we need the water in the worst way.

Which leaves us time to sharpen our gun trivia skills. Hmmmmmm….. I'll go first: I say they aren't Enfields. Don't think they are Mausers either... so I'm spit-balling here: Swiss K-31's? Maybe some kind of Wop Carcano? Don't think there's any Russians in there... sorry boys, I am stumped on this one. Any authorities wanting to weigh in and help us out?

Filthicus: Blood And Sand

When I'm putting on a triumphal circus to appease the restless stinking peasants of my kingdom, I turn to bloodsport to slake their thirsts for violence! They seem to appreciate the stacked matches, where one obviously inferior contestant is paired with a superior one. Everyone likes to see the marginal, loud and obnoxious shrimps get tormented and kilt, right? Right???

So it is, my beloved peasants, that I present to you a spectacle of blood and savagery - not from exotic creatures from half way round the world - but from my own home province of Alberta!!! Place your sporting wagers, gentlemen! Ladies - you may want to avert your eyes for this one! BEHOLD:

Well shit. Looks like it's another round of coup de tat for yours truly. Sorry folks.

I seriously think we need to consider a knife ban here in the Empire...

Thursday, 14 June 2018

Swing Low

Swing low
Sweet garbage truck....
Comin' for to carry me home...

Hey can any of you Yanks pop by and get me one of those? Ship it up here by UPS... should only take a week, right...? It should still be good. Wonder what one a those cost...?

Call Quatermain...

... and tell him to spark up the BBQ! Next, I'd call Sunny because he's brewing beer and should have a batch ready for consumption by now. Finally, I'd call Jack and Big Mike to see if they wanted the guts for coyote bait.

Here at the Thunderbox, we are prepared for any eventuality...

Happy Shitty Father's Day

You'll get yours, Dad.
Count on it.

Well another Father's Day is coming up. I've related the problems between me and my daughter before in these pages. I won't go over them again. Long story short - I failed. I was too strict, I was told, I pushed too hard, I was a redneck/homophobe/fascist, I wasn't supportive - I went through the cuck/progressive liberal wringer on "proper parenting", believe me. Been there, done that, got the tee shirt. Some of it was probably true to varying degrees, who knows. God knows, it was no picnic for me either. I am so glad to be done with it.

But other fathers from my generation are now checking in. Big Al, my former manager - gave his son a job with the company in our cal lab a year or so back. It was a great starter job for a young man with no skills or education. The boy worked for us for a year, asked for a raise, and when the senior management said 'no' Al was caught in the middle. The kid quit in disgust, moved into Al's ex-wife's basement... and hasn't worked or spoken to his father since.

Flapz - oh boy... Flapz. His son just gave up as an apprentice electrician. One daughter, he's paying her way through university and she hates him and won't talk to him. The other just signed a student loan for $25k to take a make-up/cosmetics course - where students learn the ins and outs of it as it relates to the film industry. The want-ads are just full of employers looking for make up artists, dontchya know. His stepson is 14 and has had it already. The boy goes to school when he feels like it - about twice a week... and since the boy's self esteem is more important than his education nobody punishes him. He's hopelessly behind, and is in for a world of hurt if he ever has to make his own way. I don't see anything wrong with that boy myself other than the fact that he has no work ethic and has never been disciplined. That could have been me when I was a kid were it not for my own father.

Awhile back, a friend emailed to say I had better patch things up with my own daughter because of what happened to her: her son was out partying one night, came home with some friends, and died that night. I don't know any more details than that, but apparently the boy was at odds with his father the way I am with my daughter. Last I heard, she and the ex had to go to the coroners office to attend to the formalities of a deceased son. It must have been murder on Pop.

I sit in the midst of this family wreckage and ruin going on all around - and I just don't get it. Looking at these kids coming up, I think my retirement is going to be a quart of whisky, a fine cigar and a Smith & Wesson. I can only imagine what these kids are going to be like when they get older, and I don't want them taking care of me in my old age.

See ya in hell, Filthie!  :) HAR HAR HAR!!!

That is all mighty grim stuff so maybe a counterpoint is necessary. You'll have to go diggin' for it, but CW over at the Daily Time Waster was bragging about his kids awhile back. The boy man is a strapping fella and a second lieutenant in the army. His wife is as cute as a button and a nurse. CW himself is as proud as punch about them and he should be - but he should be intensely thankful too. Sometimes the good guys win. Other than that, I wish I had some advice for ya, Dad... but I got nothin'. God bless you in the days ahead, and your kids as well.

This weekend we'll be out camping by the gun club. I am going to enjoy a campfire, thank my Maker for my wife and dawgs and what I have, maybe throw a prayer out for my kid on Sunday... and otherwise spend the weekend cheating on the range, walking dawgz - and trying not to think too much. Doing the things that obsolete fathers do, I guess.

Y'all have a great weekend.

Resting Up For CW's Friday Open Road

A hundred years ago I was camping with the wife - we slept in the back of the truck and Macey in her crate nearby. It was late fall and chilly as hell. Back then our blood ran thick and hot with youth and I didn't notice it - until I woke up at 2:00am having to take a dump of biblical proportions.

After I did my business I came back to the truck and Macey was in my fart sack, snuggled up to Mom. She was shivering like a leaf, mostly out of fright, I think. It was her first trip out and it must have been scarey out in that crate. I pulled a cover over her, closed the tailgate and canopy on them - and went and stoked up the campfire and parked it to listen to the night and watch the sun rise. I leaned my rifle up against a tree for theatrical purposes and smiled at my private foolishness. The nearest bear would be at least 200 miles away and contrary to the horror stories, they tend to stay away from humans for the most part. But there in the dark, one could almost imagine being far away in the back country with just the stars and fire for company.

Have yourself a great Thursday and get your rest. Tomorrow that open road will beckon.

Wednesday, 13 June 2018

Good Morning!

The Duelling Tradition

If anyone is interested in the latest spat between Trump and the leftist Hollywood faggotry - there's this. Gums are flapping, insults fired off, and returned ... it's like a zoo full a howler monkeys in a shit fight. Low IQ individuals thrive on it too. I know there was a point in my life when I did, HAR HAR HAR! Careful of the low flying logs, folks, and try not to get any on ya! HAR HAR HAR!!!

The Twatter wars and facebook fights are merely the result of generations where there is no moral code of conduct and no consequences for unconscionable behaviour. The very idea of real codes of conduct, with meaningful consequences for trying to abuse it or violate it - is offensive to most of us. We have cops to handle those icky criminals, courts that supposedly punish them, prisons that (HAR HAR HAR) rehabilitate them...and...where was I going with that, I wonder? The mind wobbles.

Back in the day, if you could not get satisfaction from the law, and the matter of honor to be settled was of too great a consequence to trust to mere leather elbowed snivel servants - you could address the situation yourself.


— In 1777 “The Code Duello” was drawn up covering the practice of duelling and points of honour, settled at Clonmel Summer Assizes and prescribed for general adoption throughout Ireland. The Code was also followed in England and in North America, although occasionally there were deviations.
— Rule 10 of the Code states: “Any insult to a lady under a gentleman’s care or protection to be considered as, by one degree, a greater offence than if given to the gentleman personally, and to be regulated accordingly.”
— In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, pistol duelling became popular as a sport. Participants wore heavy, protective clothing and a metal helmet with a glass eye-screen. The pistols were fitted with a shield that protected the firing hand and fired wax bullets.
— Pistol duelling was an event at the 1908 Summer Olympics in London.
Welp, maybe pistolcraft is something my students and I should learn here at Uncle Bob's School For Wayward Boys N' Retards? We'll have to develop our courage first, and I have just the solution: Russian Roullette! I will go first, of course! Quartermain will do the honors and allow us to choose our weapons. I see Jack has selected a fine 1911 in .45 - very nice. I am a traditionalist so I'll take a flintlock pistol.

We're all gonna have a great day here at Uncle Bob's Institute - hope you all have a great Humpday too!

Tuesday, 12 June 2018

Who Woulda Thunk It?

I'm betting most of that debt is spent on coursework involving crotch/race/homo studies and other courses in high demand like kitten studies.


Flapz was bragging the other nite about how his kid is going to some no-name college in BC to learn how to do movie make-up: these are the folks that paint the celebs up so that the camera doesn't notice the uglies, and make the bum-headed aliens and monsters for film land. She just signed a loan for $25k. 

I just shut my yap and didn't say a thing. My own kid got suckered into the education scam so who am I to make waves? Maybe I was an idiot - I went into a ball-breaking STEM course that was no fun at all.

Reaching Out

Fresh From The Outhouse

Jeez. These meme-things are brutal. I had to go to the hospital to be sedated from the laughing cramps I got from some of them. What's worse is that I am an utter pig when it comes to humour. I laugh at fart jokes, ethnic jokes, blonde jokes - you name it. I would dearly love to be offended by this one below - but I am still LOLing about it!


Okay, okay - I know the drill: Rule 5 violation, I plead guilty to all the charges, 30 days in the can. They've got internet in prison now so at least I can still post from my cell. Does anyone know what day it is today? Whatever - have a good one!  ;)