Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

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

Thursday, 31 January 2019

The Big Chill: BRING IT

I think a hundred years ago there was a movie called The Big Chill that had a bunch of self absorbed Baby Boomers discovering the fact that they weren't young and hip any more. It was the first pebble of utter dreck out of Hollywood that would soon become an avalanche, HAR HAR HAR!

But I digress.

Up here in Alberta we are chinooking: its above freezing today but the plunge starts tomorrow and should be in the -30C range next week. Cold is tough - but it is much worse when ya get thermally shocked like that!

I got your winter right here, Jack Frost!

Canada Goose, fellas!!! As my cartoon friend, Sterling Archer
likes to say:
"Eat a dick, Winter!"

-30C is no problem for me personally but it can be hard on the vehicles. Metal starts to misbehave at those temps so keep 'em plugged in and let 'em warm up.

I understand some a you Yanks are in the tank
right now.
Stay indoors, and leave the outdoor stuff to
intrepid arctic survivors like me and Kenny

Posted With No Comment

It's 'Non-Political Week' here at the 

Call this one  ‘philosophy’ post. Or maybe a rude joke. I won’t even dip a toe into the waters of the abortion debate. As a former atheist I used to think I knew it all. As a Christian I will not make the same mistake. As kids we made a LOT of really, really bad life decisions. I’ve since learned that I know only two things for sure: SFA and nothing!

But I do know right from wrong. I know black from white. And that those grey areas aren’t as large as some people would like to think.

Have a great Thursday and give the kids a hug for me.

Wednesday, 30 January 2019

WL Spotted

I say! Have you lads any gin? I've got tonic, but no mixer...!!!

In A Nutshell

I might a writ this one myself if I was another 50 IQ points up the ladder. And of course, taking your own advice can be a tough row to hoe too. When my family disintegrated my wife joined a great church, got involved with their activities and volunteer work and has her poop in a tidy proverbial group. I, however, still have my work cut out for me.

Tuesday, 29 January 2019

Filthie's New Yacht.

And I yam feelin a hankering fer a big glob o' spinach, HYUKUKUKUKUK!

The Axe Man Cometh: The Blade Fetish Continues


I see the cool kids and yuppies have taken up the blade fetish too!  Been seeing a lot of these around:

They cost a small fortune. Flapz bought this wee belt axe and I'm sure he went over a hundred bucks for it. It's a Gransors Bruk out of Sweden. I gotta admit, I was enthralled.

Good tools are getting scarce these days, what with everything made out of Chinesium these days. "Ah so, Mr. Firthie! Chinesium steel as good as American at 1/10th the price! HAL HAL HAL!!!" Sure it is, you little slope headed - oops! Did I say that out loud? Why - I'm ever so embarrassed!!!

Now Swedish steel - yeah, they make mighty fine steel. But so does everyone these days (with the exception of the chinamen). But hell's bells, we are talking about axes here. You don't need or necessarily want surgical quality steel for an axe.

This is what I am on. It's mid-way between a full size axe and a hatchet in size. This isn't a woodsman's axe; in the parlance I was taught, the proper name was the boy's axe. It's small enough to pound tent pegs with one hand, topple standing dead trees for the fire pit and other light camp jobs.

$85.00. Treat it right, and your grandkids will be using it when you are dust. Ya can't ask for any more than that... and I am not sure if you need any more than that!


I'm supposed to be impressed with that?!?
He didn't hit a single cone!
I woulda had them all down in half the time!
BW would have levelled the lot with a dirty look!
Borepatch woulda had them all down and shot any
survivors in 1/4 the time!!!
Our cops seriously need to re-evaluate their skill sets and PR

Keep Yer Hands Where I Can See 'Em...

When I am playing Fish or Crazy 8's with the other retards I always make sure our guns and knives are on the table, and all our hands are visible. Never deal yourself in unless you know the house rules, and if ya DO gamble - always pay your debts promptly and cheerfully. Properly done, gambling is a healthy, wholesome diversion fit for a king - or so I am told.

For peons and pawns like me - I have better things to do with my money.

Things You May Never Have Thunk About...

Legalization Required

By law, the only people that are allowed to wear crocs are women, retards, and men over the age of 75 that are legally senile and wear diapers. I'm pretty sure that one is legally embedded in Canadian law and the American Constitution.

Earlier in the week Bart correctly called me out on this flagrant violation of the law and I make no excuses for it. Men, just as we need to abolish the manufacture of white underwear, and the use of suspenders that do not exhibit trademarks like Trilene, or patterns like Treebark, or Mossy Oak - we need to legalize the use of Crocs for stubfart sportsmen. I'm totally serious, it just has to be done.

When I am out fishin' these things are awesome. Soak 'em and leave 'em out in the sun to dry. You can step in anything, right up to and including a big fresh cow pie - and clean 'em off squeaky clean with the garden hose! When you get up for the third time in the night to go out of the tent and take a leak - slipping into these as opposed to lacing up your boots is a no-brainer.

Last weekend I was out camping and went out to the fire in the morning to make sure it was out - and they filled up with snow. When I got back to the truck I took them off, banged them together to get all the snow out - and put them back on my bare feet! You cannot imagine how oddly invigorating that was.

I now turn this important topic over to the sporting intellectuals. I fully expect a positive consensus on this, and will not tolerate any dissent whatsoever.

Monday, 28 January 2019


I don't care how fast that rice rocket 
piss burner goes...
that is just gay.

For The Canadians

Widow Maker

Fly low.
Fly fast.
Turn left.

Nothin' to it! I always wanted to go to the Air Races in Reno. Do they still do that? I know that some of the early racers were going so fast that the vortices they generated could literally tear the wings off the plane. 

The physics of it bother me because until you've actually flown yourself, you tend to think of air as …. nothing, really. But air is technically a fluid, and when it moves it has all the power of a raging sea … and maybe a bit more. 

Every Day Carry Knives: The Pocket Cleaver???

Apparently these things are the new rage with the sportsmen. I gotta admit I am intrigued. Most of my knife jobs these days are slicing work, and don't require the point for pokey-stabby stuff like cleaning fish or dressing out game.

Hmmmpffffff! Very interesting....

Ohhhhhhhh… Damascus....!!!!

Any thoughts, lads? Whadda you make of them...?

Can You Get In Trouble At Work For NOT Doing Social Media

I don't do Facebook. I don't twitter or tweet or Instagram. When I am speaking my mind and being me, this is where I do it - with enough anonymity that only those that truly have an interest in me can find me. I have an anonymous Hotmail account. My avatar is always the John Belushi/Captain Kelso character from 1941.

Couple weeks back a notice went out about a company letterhead/logo that we could put on our LinkedIn accounts. I don't do LinkedIn either so I ignored it. A week or so later one of the owners calls and asks me why I am not on LinkedIn or Facebook. I didn't hesitate - I have all the wrong opinions, I laugh at inappropriate jokes, and I have better things to do than be trolled by social justice warriors, sensitivity mobs, or be bothered with all the other BS that goes along with social media. I don't want my info out where I don't know the people that might be viewing it.

"Interesting..." the boss said - in an interesting tone, if ya get my drift. I just stayed quiet. Was he threatening me...? I won't put up with employers that make veiled threats.

Turned out that the man was shocked at first, and then it was the damnedest thing - a note of respect crept into the conversation. "Yannow Glen I do Facebook for work a bit... but beyond that I am beginning to think of saying 'to hell with it!' too..."

I hear quitting Facebook is hard for a lot of people. The way people talk about it sounds a lot to me like smokers talking about quitting, or druggies giving up addiction. For what it's worth - I think that if you have a little inner voice telling you that it is time to quite social media - you probably should listen to it.

Sunday, 27 January 2019

We're All Tired, Boys...

I guess Irish's arse is dragging 5 feet behind him. That's a worthwhile read and no bones about it. Times are trying. First Gillette came out and told us how they felt about their male customers. Then the mass media tried to kill those Covington high school boys for some cheap virtue signalling points. I just want to turn it all off - I saw all kinds of this crap personally in my family once already and now it's gone mainstream. Maybe it just affects because I have been through these social justice meatgrinders.

The wife and I sat down for Netflix on Friday night and we ended up watching some yarn that started out good - but degenerated into an S&M flick with incredibly graphic detail. I am no prude - but good grief... it turned me right off - so I turned it off! I've never seen more pointless, savage violence on the tube than what I saw on Friday night. You'd have to be sick to watch something like that and enjoy it.

Well now ya know, boys. The hags and crones of fable and tale
are the heroes, dontchya know. As for chivalrous, honest men like you -
your're toxic.
Betcha that gal's parents are proud too...!

The wife had a theory that the depravity and degeneracy coming out of Hollyweird is much like an addictive drug, and that the addict needs ever more blood, degeneracy, and disaster to satisfy their ever growing need for it. That's why the sex scenes are more graphic and perverted than ever before, that's why blood runs like rivers in the fight scenes, that's why the next film out of the can will be even worse. I am tired of it too - and I needed a break. My Maker took pity on me and gave us an unseasonably balmy weekend, so I headed out for a night in the trees with a campfire and a hankerin' to blow some dust off my soul.

We caught a chinook this weekend, so I loaded up the 
Dawgmobile and headed out.

Jeez, have these things ever improved.
I had one of the early models that were bulky, a complete
$%^&* to inflate, and much heavier.
If you are in the market for a new sleeping pad the newer
Thermarests are pretty good.
I also had my ever present blue foamy too... but probly didn't need it.

I had three supercans of beer and 4 hotdogs.
I lost one dog in the fire and half a supercan of beer but
that was alright because I packed more than I expected to use.

I sat down in front of the fire with my hot dogs and beers and just disconnected with the world. It was absolutely balmy and clear as a bell. When the flames burned down I hit the hay. During the night the winds blew up and the rain started - in January! But I was snug as a bug in the back of the truck and just let the wind howl. It was shocking, sort of - things make sense outdoors. I thought of all the idiots and lunacy coming from the big cities and fell sound asleep feeling kinda sorry for them.

The next morning gale winds were bending the trees over and driving the rain, sleet and snow sideways. I was gonna make coffee on the tailgate but pussed out and went up to the club house instead.

Welcome to Valhalla, boys. No heat, no water - but the lights work!
If yer ambitious you can fire up the wood stove.
I wasn't particularly ambitious.

Our club house was built by stubfarts, for stubfarts. Half of the trophies on display here were donated by men that are now running around in walkers and wearing Velcro shoes - or they've passed on altogether. I was a kid when they were strong, their eyes were bright, and their aim was true. And I got to sit here and make camp coffee amidst the relics they left behind.

200 meteres! Off hand!!! Shot in 2010 at the family fun shoot.
Wish I could shoot like that!

This arctic fox was shot on the DEW Line in 1964 - the year
I was born.

The winds howled outside, the club and range was deserted except for me - and here I was, in this place of cheer and merriment - built by better men that lived in better times. There's elk and deer mounts here too, some monster fish mounts... and I had the place to myself and communed with ghosts.

Didn't even have to bother with breakfast.
Coffee was good enough.

I'm going to take the rest of the week off on this blog as far as the political crap goes. I had a great weekend, most of my old gear still works and is in great condition - but some shortfalls were found and some replacements may be needed. If ya have time stop in later and maybe we can chew the fat and talk about stuff that actually matters.

Hope y'all had a great weekend and thanks again for stopping by.

Old School Cool

Back in the day my Dad got razzed because he looked more like Fred Flintstone than Fred did.

It makes me weep to see that I look more like Homer than Homer Simpson does.

I am damned, and doomed.

Saturday, 26 January 2019

Retard Dog Show

Being an accomplished crime fighter, feared by senior delinquents everywhere - my K9 Companions are trained with their skills honed to a razor's edge. Macey is as smart as a whip, Mort is dumb as a post but just does what she does so we all get on pretty good. I have many flaws but I am excellent with animals. I should do pretty well against my competitors at the Retard Dawg Show!

Keep up the good work TB!

We very carefully do NOT laugh at the K9's of 
Camp Borepatch.
Just passing through, guys! Nice doggie...!!!

Uncle Bob's pugs are revolting little creatures
that are much like Bob himself was: disrespectful
of authority and unserious.

Mort is like his master and needs a bath.
He smells like
death and excrement....

Which brings us around to the winner of this Retard School Gong Show: Ladies and Gentlemen: Irish walks away with the honors with his wonderfully behaved purebreds. This is what being a pet owner is all about.

How did I miss this? It has to be the best video I've
seen all week...

Good work Irish! We'll see y'all back on Monday.

Range Day

Betchya didn't know that ol' Filthie is a big wheel in the gun industry, didjya? Fact is me and WL Emery are industry drivers - he with his penchant for the Maxim machine guns and harrowing adventures in the jungles of Africa - and me with my experience as a world class great white hunter!

I'll be testing the two newest industry proprietary cartridges to hit the market to date:

Left: the .224 Quartermain
Right: the 7.62x139 Stretch Pelosi

The guys at the 2019 SHOT Show have promised to send me a Lewis gun chambered for the former,
and a Spandau for the latter.
All the gun geeks of the blogosphere will be green with envy - I'll 
keep ya posted.

Gathering Darkling Shadows And The Filthie Oracle

15 years ago I was predicting the current cultural turd wars. For me it all began with gay marriage around the turn of the last century. My intellectual and moral superiors were hellbent on giving queers marriage rights and the privacy of their own bedrooms. They were ever so virtuous and enlightened about it too. I responded that if you let those lunatics indulge their depravity in their bedrooms, the next thing you will do is legitimize it and you'll see it in the washrooms, the courtrooms, the classrooms, the boardrooms, and everywhere else. Once that happens, they will let all the other perverts and degenerates out and the next thing you know, you will be living in Thailand. The conservatives laughed at me, and the liberals raged and spat and howled for my blood. I got banned from a lot of sites for posting inappropriate comments and hate speech. So... what are we up to now? How many 'genders'? Remember your alphabet! LBGTQFUCKMYANUS... GAH. Lat I heard they were seriously talking about letting the pedos out of the closet. Likewise, I told everyone that if you let coloured morons have money and benefits for being 'discriminated against', everything would be racist. The conservatives laughed, the liberals gobbed and spat. The worst were white. And last week, the mass media tried to kill some white teenaged boys for wearing a Donald Trump hats and smiling at a toothless, greasy native derelict. They're still at it too - some are still claiming those kids picked the fight and were bullying a war hero.

TB sees it.

Borepatch sees it.

Even the Pastor sees snippets of it.

Allow me to prophesy again. Remember, ye skeptics - you laughed at me 15 years ago. Harken unto me:  There will be no walking this back. That isn't our fault, it's theirs and theirs alone. Understand who you're dealing with.

See how that works? If you don't follow
the script you are given verbatim and accept your scolding - you are
the problem and you will be a 
You will not negotiate with
people like this. I've tried.

When the culture war blew up in my home it was over almost before it started. I was a homophobe, bully and bigot. I was the bad guy and maybe if I capitulated and admitted my sins, the lesbian SJW's and the virtue signallers in my family would let me off with a lifetime of being a punching bag for the gay agenda. My guilt and sin were not in question, the only thing that needed to be determined was how I was to be punished. In that message above - if you took offense at being called a bully - it meant you are one and should be punished accordingly. You are intolerant, and intolerance will not be tolerated. This is not a 'failure to communicate'. This is not going to be the fault of 'both sides'. This is how these guys roll, and this is why we are going to have to go to war with them: because they fully intend to bring it to us. This is why they want to destroy your churches and families. This is why they want to disarm you. They've done all that to themselves, they are unhappy with the mess they've made of their lives, and they want to blame it all on you. Read that message above again. That is your enemy's mindset. You're with them, or against them. They will vote that way too.

When my daughter destroyed our family with this bullshit I beat myself up for years. Back then, we didn't know the things we do now about sensitivity mobs, SJW's, and snowflakes. What bothers me is that there were still a lot of people that are shocked and hurt by the Covington High School incident, or the Gillette fiasco. To borrow the vernacular of our enemies... it's long past time for you to wake up and see these people not only for what they are - but where they're headed. 

This next uncivil war will be over right away or it will burn the nation right to the ground. I am not sure which outcome is more likely. On one hand, our enemies are morbidly obese feminists and cat ladies, queers, and low IQ/low skill ethnics and vibrants. As Obama made clear, those idiots are incapable of running a peaceful civilized nation, never mind one at war. One would think that soy boys, flimps and women will hardly make for formidable enemies. But that is not the full of it; if - when - the culture war goes hot... it will burn like wildfire across classes, ideologies, religions, politics, and ugh...even 'sexualities'. Everyone will be shooting at everyone else!

May you pick your tribes, your friends and your enemies very carefully in the days ahead - and have a great weekend. There may not be many of these left.

Friday, 25 January 2019

She's Been A Long Week...

Today our delinquent managers all bailed out early leaving the kids in charge. I was actually in the novel position of getting chased out early by the young 'uns. Used to be I would come in early on Fridays and chase them out so they could get a jump start on their weekends. I sauntered out with the last of them 10 minutes early. What can I say? My work ethic is as bad as BW Bandy's now.

Friday night home time at the office...

When you're an old fart getting out early isn't the same as when you're young for some reason. I think I'll take it easy tonight and go through my gear for tomorrow - I am gonna camp out this weekend and make sure it all still works. It's been close to 10 years since I've used some of it. For tonight, some easy listening from our urban friends from the big eastern cities of the USA: ladies and gentlemen, I am so glad to have you with me tonight as we go back in time, and go up on the roof!

Dammit. They landed on Pete n' Jack
and the Lawrence Welk Bubble Machine!

Up on the roooooooofffff…..
Sorry everyone, no bubbles.

Have a great night, folks.  ;)

The Friday Filthie Archeologist

I wake up every Friday and the first thing I do is grab the iPad, turn on the Z Man Power Hour podcast - and look forward to a thoughtful, well researched presentation on gawd-only-knows-what. I've developed something of a penchant for deep thinking public speakers lately. The really good ones can reach out and punch you right where you live and the elders at my church are masters at it. They can make you look at yourself from outside yourself - and what you see is often quite different from what you think you see on the inside. They can help you see that external world differently too.

This week's segment is on Weirdos and coming from a family of cuck conservatives and progressive liberals as I do - I didn't think there was anything Z could teach me on the subject. I got my PhD on weirdos when my daughter announced that she was a militant lesbian social justice warrior and a gay artiste. Z says we have to take the time to laugh at such people or we will start thinking the world is going to hell. He talks about all the weirdos - from queers, to SJWs to atheists, to... Libertarians! I finished up the episode feeling introspective and pensive. It's not the right way to start a Friday, getting punched in the intellectual nads. Or maybe it is. You should check it out and come to your own conclusions.

This week I have a presentation of my own for the Filthie ignoratti and academics of the outhouse: artifacts gathered from the storage shed of the internet. Some I can sorta identify, some I cannot. The academics and intelligentsia are encouraged to chime in on the comments if you can help us place these obscure relics from better times and better people.

I have suspicions about what this is. I will wait for confirmation
from one of our esteemed colleagues on it.

No idea

Some kind of date stamp...?

I think they're wicks for kerosene
That or they are re-enforced straps for disciplining
especially incorrigible children
Like Pete, Jack, and Quartermain.

Damned if I know. For some reason
I really think I should know this one but a combination
of senility and stupidity forbid an accurate identification
Your two cents would be sincerely appreciated.

That's it for this week - for those of you blessed with a bottle and a glass - this is your day. I myself ran out of booze back in December and may wait until spring or summer to re-stock, we'll see how that goes. As for you - hoist one for me, and for any absent friends.

Good call - and have a great Friday!

Thursday, 24 January 2019

Retard Rorschadt Test

A Non-Flat Cat Fatality

Looks like he used up all 9...


CW is yukking it up over at the Daily Timewaster because of some poor stupid kid that got her head stuck in a dinosaur costume.

Must be nice to work with non-retarded kids! Here at Uncle Bob's Institute I have to work with the worst children the human race has to offer!

Aw jeez, Quartermain…

Yep, he got himself caught in the patio furniture in ways that bugger the imagination! I snuck into M's shop to nick a pair of tinsnips and tried to cut the sack off - it would have prevented so many other problems with the boy - and only succeeded in wrecking the blades. There was no help for it; we had to cut up a perfectly good lawn chair to get him out!

The tinsnips and lawn chair will come out of his allowance - mark my words!!!
Somebody should tell M to lock up his tools and soak the tinsnips in varsol for awhile.

Poetry Corner: Chilling Tales From The Timberland

What happened here?

I wonder if it's legit. Look at the underbite on the human skull - not even a deformed hare lipped retard like Yours Truly has an underbite like that! Perhaps - do ya think it might be the skull of.....

AN ALIEN?!?!?!?


All this horrible imagery and hair raising speculation leaves me in the mood for some more tales of the odd and the bizarre from the Timberland!

There are strange things done 'neath the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold.
The arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold.
The northern lights have seen queer sights
But the queerest they ever did see,
Was that night on the marge of Lake LeBarge
When I cremated Sam McGee.

Read the rest here … and have a great Thursday!

The Filthie Time Traveller

This morning I woke up grumping and bitching about the world as old men do - when I came across a headline about the new carbon taxes that this fucking prick wants to foist on us Canadians. This fwench whoreson is every bit as clueless as that other fwench twat,  Emmanuel Macron in Fwance! "If somebody shot that little bastid right between the eyes - I'd buy a round for the house!" I raged. Lord - I was on a rip! "Then I'd go back in time and shoot his flimp of a father too!" I ranted. If that were possible it could theoretically kill two turds with one stone, HAR HAR HAR!!!

Once the spittle and hot air subsided and I thunk about it a bit - I realized that, given the dummies and idiots that live in our big cities - that if you killed one, 5 others are around to step in and fill the void. The popular science fiction shows about going back in time and killing Hitler and changing the world today are all bunkum; if it were possible to do something like that I don't think anything would change much at all! We all bob and toss and ebb and flow on the tides of history, the same as guys like Trump, Bill Gates and all the other Cloud People do

Justin's is simply the face of what's wrong with Canada. He is a symptom, not a cause. 

Uncle Bob Lives

And before the Usual Suspects open up - yes, it's a photoshop.
Drones can't lift payloads like that.

Tuesday, 22 January 2019

The Good Ol' Days

I still remember the day Pop and Big Bro came home from the hospital. Pop had to stand on the brakes when a fellow motorist got stupid - Big Bro (who must have been 5 or 6 at the time) - went head first into the windshield and cracked the heck out of it. There was a great big bloody smear on the glass too. They went down to the clinic and the doctor proclaimed that the windshield had gotten the worst of it, and that was that for that.

Better times, better people.

Wonder If They Have Them In Extra-Rotund...?

Be With Ya In A Minute

Just have some minor problems with the outhouse foundations
to look at first...