Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

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

Wednesday, 27 February 2019

Some HAR-HAR-HARing Is In Order?

With the declining quality of the North American female... the  stage is set.
The first synthetic human will almost 
certainly be female.

I am and I am not qualified to speak on this subject. My wife is an old world woman and our marriage has been grand in spite of some very nasty cultural forces exerted on it by our families. Suffice it to say we come from mildly progressive liberal families where everything but common sense goes. One day I just got fed up with all the shit, and put an end to it. It went against my grain to do it but there was no choice, really. 

If you've had nasty women barking at the moon for your blood as I have - you'll appreciate this one that has been floating around the internet. I have a helpful suggestion for women who are seeing stuff like this in their families: instead of talking to the other hens at yoga class or down at the coffee shop... talk to your men instead. Shut your gob, and open your ears and you may find out why your families are falling apart. (I'll bet you a million bucks it isn't Trump's fault).

But whadda I know. Elsewhere, Aesop learns an affirmative action flunky former female fighter pilot everything she needs to know about being a man.

I used to think that eventually these liberal types would get bitten on the arse by their own stupidity one too many times, and that eventually they would have to learn from their mistakes. It doesn't work that way - they just keep doubling down on stupid - and the resulting misery is never their fault.

This stuff is funny right up until it happens to you, I guess. It isn't going to end well.

Not Recommended

I was over at Camp Borepatch where we all gathered to celebrate his big win at The Blog Oscars. Shame on me, for dropping names of celebrities to keep up with appearances! But - I'm proud to say I voted for him too! I very seldom go over there for pleasure; those guys are all business most of the time and I saw another great article on a green bean United States Marine that did very well for himself after participating in one of the most storied historical engagements of the second world war. I am the number one fan boy of the Marines. I'da been one myself if I weren't such a big chicken. But I digress! The co-star in that story is one of these:

That's the hell of kits like these: ya only really need a couple -
and those are the ones you invariably need when
they decide to go AWOL.
Apparently this kit comes highly recommended. I wish
I'd known about it a year ago...

Dammit, I wish I'd known about it earlier because I would have bought one. Instead, I bought one of these:

I had no problems at all with it until I loaned it to one of the guys who was putting a scope on his new 338 Lapua and he broke one of the bits in the kit. I strongly suspect they are made from Chinesium and if that is the case, most of them will break with one dirty look. Buying from the chinks is risky biscuits - in some products their quality is on par with anything the Americans can put out. On others the QA is going straight up... but they have a long way to go. In others, the old adage goes: ya get what ya pay for.

I wasn't broken up or worried about it but the fella that broke the bit was. He went down to Ukranian Tire and bought a screwdriver with the proper bit to replace the one he broke. I just laughed when he gave everything back to me and told him he didn't have to go to all the trouble.

Yannow I just cringed when our twink of a prime minister started flipping off Trump and bragging about how Canada was going to snuggle up to China as a replacement trade partner. Professionally I have worked with the chinks and I speak of them that way because that is what they are, as business people. The are back stabbers, liars and cheats and thieves that make America's crony capitalists look like pikers. Right now, they have our pretty-boy PM bent over a rail and they are giving him the business. Last I heard of it the gooks were arresting Canadian citizen in China to pressure Canada into releasing that monkey in the center of the Huawei scandal. Trump is absolutely correct to tariff the chit out of those monkeys - their idea of business is not compatible with ours.

In any event, I cannot recommend this set of tools. You'd be better off buying the bits and pieces you DO need, and spending the money to get good ones. Cheap tools are more hassle than they're worth.

Monday, 25 February 2019

Fuggin Baby Boomers...

100 years ago I was on some popular blogger's site and they were all getting misty eyed over some song put out by (hork, spit!) The Beatles. They couldn't say enough about it! They went on and on and on until finally I couldn't stand it anymore and I pooped in the comments: "Lookit, you geriatric old farts - the Beatles sucked balls!!! And - good grief! The Stones?!?!? Those guys run around in squishy diapers and Velcro shoes! They -" and then that was IT. They SNAPPED.  They LOST IT! I figuratively got taken into the boards, they pulled my shirt up over my head and they all gathered round to pommel me and feed me shots! I still have the lumps from that little indiscretion!!!


And while those old diseased fossils rattled out toons that sucked 40 years ago for their senile fans ... they totally missed one of their own producing actual music. I remain unrepentant: music evolved past those greasy elderly hippies long ago. But they set the stage for true artisans like Mark Knopfler. Here he does a spectacular rendition of Romeo & Juliet. I love the vulgarity of that guitar, the innocent cluelessness of the lyrics, and how they fuse to make something almost as beautiful as the original. They couldn't have done it without the piano.

His music reminds me of better days, when we were better people and impromptu concerts went off in the garage with my brother's gang. They had a band and even I had a place in it sometimes - I played the Tupperware and wrote a few rude ditties that sounded almost respectable when set to music of sorts. They'd beat me up and run me off when my time was up too. It was just as well, when they got going they sounded pretty good.

This is the music of my generation, and I suppose the kids will make rude jokes about it when my diapers are getting squishy and I can't remember how to tie my shoes. I don't care, they can have their twerking meat puppets like Lady Ka Ka and wiggers and so on. They are immortal and they know it all as I was once did.

I will probably get my arse beat by them too. As Monday winds down, another favorite might be in order. Before ya head off to bed - this one always puts me in a restful frame of mind. It's played with that same rude guitar that he used in Romeo & Juliet. Take a trip down Telegraph Road - and have a great night.

The telegraph sang a song about the world outside.
Doesn't seem to be much music left out there these days.

I Need A Monicle, Possibly A Tophat...

I think these came in two calibres - 9mm and I think the other was 7.65 Mauser
or something like that.
I'd love to reload for something like that. Wonder how it'd fare
with hard cast lead boolits?

The Filthie Archeologist

And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen: Scientific proof that M
has been repairing cars since the Plasterscene Era.
That one probably came out of Fred Flintstone's or Barney Rubble's car...

The Cat Scale

Some straight Talk On Retard Sex Ed

I suppose I could just google it. Hmmm: what happens when the birds and bees get past reproduction age? Like...well past it?

I have to ask because I am looking at these new strong, empowered women and I am the only one noticing the obvious. When we were younger, my wife was great. From the way she acted, you couldn’t really tell she was “having her monthlies”. A lot of women are like that. Oh, a couple of times the hormones got the better of her. But a hug a break, and some coffee or chocolate was all it took to put her right. I learned women had monthlies as a tyke; my mother became a dragon at her time of the month - that woman didn’t have monthlies, she was on the rag and no bones about it! Anything could set that bint off. Later I saw the same thing with the females I worked with. The younger they are, the worse it seems. My question is this: how are these women supposed to be good leaders when their biology and hormones make them lose their chit once a month? And before anyone accuses me of being unsupportive and insensitive to women - remember that in a work environment workers often have to rely on their leaders for support, not the other way around. Companies competing in the marketplace capitalize on the poor management of their competitors. Leaders who have ‘bad days’ get people killed. I see there has been no detailed investigation into why that vibrant rainbow bridge in the States collapsed. Remember that one? Designed entirely by women and vibrants and built as a raised middle finger at the patriarchy? Funny, that. I woulda thunk the ambulance chasers and brave whistle blowers woulda been all over that one for months, given the way they sensationalize other disasters. Go figure.

Then there's menopause. Again, my wife sailed through it with no issues. Her mother didn't do as well but she did okay I guess. My mom went bat-shit crazy and stayed that way. She also got mean and nasty too. She lives in her own world now, and as far as I can see everyone stays as far away from it as they can except Pop, and the only reason he survives is because he's clinically and selectively deaf.

My question is - how long are we supposed to play along with the fiction that women can lead? Up in Canada they've almost destroyed the liberal party; it is so pozzed that they will only tolerate a fwench flimp to run it - and he spends as much time on his hair as they do on theirs. It's even worse for you guys down in the US. There was that fake black chick, then that fake indian one. Pelosi has to be living on another planet by now, for all her connection with this one. The only people that will vote for these women are illegal Mexicans and other hormonal hysterics.

You never hear the term 'broken family' or 'broken home' anymore, and I suspect that is because it is offensive to the women that broke them. So bad is it, that thousands of them put on pink pussy hats and went out to protest - about what, exactly?

About the only legitimate problem I can see from here is that they got everything they wished for. But whadda I know? I'm just a stupid old white male.

Sunday, 24 February 2019

When Bubba Hits One Out Of The Park

I love guns like this. There's a million miles on it, but it has been taken 
care of, and tastefully embellished.

A hundred years ago in the dream times, back when I had gumption and a family - I had an old Winchester 94 in .32 Special and had nothing to do with it. I had inherited it from the outlaw side of the family. My nephew at the time was a young and promising boy from that side of the family so I figured the best thing to do would be to clean up the rifle and give it to him. It was a neglected piece and a hell of a mess. It was a great winter project: I'd do that stock up by taking the old finish off the wood (what was left of it) - and smooth it out 600 grit. Successive coats of boiled linseed after that. I considered some jewelled pins but decided against it - the gun had beautiful grain that just leaped out layer after hand rubbed layer of linseed. I figured the rifle would need a companion so I tried to make a fancy belt axe to go with it.

I had visions of something like this,
but sadly my skills were nowhere up to those of the artisan
that made this beauty.

The first axe I made was sub par and I gave it to the boy telling him that if it broke or got lost he was not to get bent out of shape over it - I would make him another worth hanging on to. The kid was thrilled.

His mother was not. She was a card carrying femcnut feminist, a liberal, and hated guns on general principles - and that went double for all their icky accessories too. She relented on the hatchet, but told me there was no way she'd allow her son to have a gun. I think I was on the 25th coat on the stock of the rifle at that point. The rest of the in laws jumped down my throat as well. What in hell was I thinking - a rifle? For a boy...?!?? What in hell was the matter with Filthie…? In the last civilized meeting I had with my father in law, that glowing wood on the 94 seemed to cut through the all the liberal poz. "That is a fine piece of wood, Glen..." he said.  "... and it would make a fine gift for a nephew... or a grandson... What a shame." I cold blued some of the spots where I'd removed the extereior rust and put it back together and forgot about it..

Then my family went nuts to live under the liberal rainbow, they took my unwilling nephew with them and gawd only knows what the boy is like today. His parents divorced a year or two later after I was banished from the hive for my unhealthy hobbies in incorrect opinions and beliefs. I gave the gun to King Peter to use as a camp gun in bear country and never saw it again. For some reason I didn't want to see it again.

It's a deprivation symbolic of others... and I can live without them all just fine. I hope that rifle in the pic finds a young owner that will continue to use it. May you see your touchstones and heirlooms land in the right hands too.

Welp, I gotta chit shower and shave for church today - you all have a great Sunday!

Saturday, 23 February 2019

Time For New Hearing Aids...

I've seen the odd sporting birds like hawks and falcons.
Wonder why these guys were never considered for the sport...

First Pass Through The Old Testament

The other day I lashed out at another blogger when I probly should have just zipped my lip. I agree with 95~97% of what the man says - but the remaining percentage of what I see in the man leaves me wanting loosen my pistol in its holster. He says he is not defending the drug and sex culture in that crowd - but he is. We have laws to protect vulnerable underage girls from sexual predators. Where were your parents, Kim, and why should you get a free pass to prey on them? Because you were a musician? I've always suspected him of having an inner psychopath because he'd have no idea what I am talking about. Kim is one of those odd men where I approve of the message but strongly disapprove of the man. I probably shouldn't have left the comment there.

My bible studies continue apace. I finished up Numbers in the old testament and was having trouble digesting what I was reading. One thing that leaped out at me on this first pass was that our Maker is a completely ruthless, remorseless judge, jury and executioner in those passages. The story line so far is always the same. Paraphrased: "This is my hot button, people! If you push this button, I will do horrible things to you. Don't push this button because you will regret it. If you push this button, the same thing will happen to you that happened to the last 10 idiots that pressed it....". And of course the dummies push the button and the cycle repeats. There is no mercy for the deliberate, determined sinner. The law is the law, you do the crime, you do the time - assuming that's an option of course.

So I read all this and the rotten wood started smouldering. Back in the 80's the last of the German war criminals were still being caught and rounded up. I remember the Israelis got one in South America and had him in court for the cameras after decades of being on the run. The man was a geriatric, doddering old sot with coke bottle glasses and hearing aids. People had to translate and repeat the doings of the court to him because half the time he didn't understand what was being said. He fell asleep several times. I can't remember the outcome of that one - I think they sent him to prison. He was an SS officer in one of the death camps, if I recall. As a young man that perplexed me.

What do you get out of punishing a man who is in his mid 80's? The old fool probably forgot where and who he was half the time. Isn't some kind of mercy warranted...? I could understand the hate and wrath of the victims too, though. Showing mercy to the old boy would be a traumatic slap in the face for them. As a young man I just shrugged and said to hell with it - it wasn't my problem, thankfully.

Maybe that is why these early chapters of the old testament were written the way they were? Look what we have today: rules for some people, and rules for others. Everybody is just okay with it too, as long as they are the ones getting away with it. du Toit thinks rock stars and roadies should be able to pump and dump your daughters if you lose control of them. Bill Cosby goes to jail for raping women 100 years ago, and Bill Clinton laughs. Bill Kavanaugh was nearly ruined by a woman making false accusations and she got away with it scot free. That probably encouraged that niggered homo to fake is own beating - and two innocent white guys would probably gone to the slam had his plan succeeded. But we all know he won't face any punishment for what he did either.

When you start making exceptions to the law, everyone is going to want to be exempted. When everyone sees that playing by the rules is a sucker's game, they will stop playing by the rules too. Then you end up where we are now - with a legal system that is profitable as hell for the hucksters, and it gets used a political weapon against the citizens it was made to protect. You can't run a country or a community this way. Without meaningful laws - even guys like du Toit and I - who agree on just about everything - can become deadly enemies. The law has to work, and everyone has to see that it works. Not only that, they have to see that it works the same for them as it does for everyone else or you end up with a country like Haiti or Venezuela.

But all that rot is big brain stuff that I don't have the intellect to deal with. When the law of the land fails we make our own laws I guess. So, men like du Toit will keep their hands where I can see 'em, not make any sudden moves, keep their noses clean and their fly zipped - and they can pass peaceably through my neck of the woods - but they can't stay, I'm afraid.

Have a good Saturday - and as usual, if I've misunderstood anything here, feel free to set me straight in the comments.

Thursday, 21 February 2019

Friday Fart Game: Who Did It?

I know what everyone is thinking: "Filthie, ya fuggin pig! How does a guy chit an entire jet airliner?!?!" The answer is simple: I didn't! No, it wasn't me, and while you were correct to suspect it... this wasn't any of the Usual Suspects either. Because of our numerous psychological problems and behavioural issues - we aren't allowed on planes.

Something like that requires fermented and partially digested health foods - the kind that a dedicated martial artist might eat. My money is on TB or ASM. Mind you, grumpy old farts tend toward health food too so the list of suspects might be expanded to include Harry and M as well. That's the thing about the Fart Game - it only seems to produce smelly losers, HAR HAR HAR!!! I am thankful indeed that I don't smell like any a those guys. Feel free to chip in with your suspicions and accusations in the comments.

Perhaps we should turn our attention to games more worthy of our talents and participation? Tom has just the ticket for us - especially given that we are headed back into the deep freeze!

Stompin' Tom, vintage retard road hockey - does life
get any better?
Methinks not.
Does anybody know who the guys in yellow were,
playing the Loafs? Pittsburg, maybe?

Keep yer stick on the ice and have a great Friday!

Wednesday, 20 February 2019


Back Into The Deep Freeze, Gawdammitalltohell...

It's not bad now but on the weekend the temps are supposed to dive again. It was warm but slick out today and a few idiots went into the ditch. I'm not surprised, there were a lot of angry jerks on the road and rage and ice don't go together well.

I know I have had enough of it; I am starting to get cabin fever. I did manage to get an extended dawg patrol in last night but our usual route had blown over so we went 3/4 of the way round and came back which amounted to a walk and a half for the hooples so they got a break too.

This is why the local Ukranians that founded Alberta are so fond of garish colours. Snobbish locals look at their awful colour clashes and don't realize how refreshing those colours might be to someone who has been stuck inside with nothing to look at outside except white and various shades of grey.

Usually February puts an end to this shite - we get blinding sun reflected off the snow and low temps... so who knows. I'd be happy with a bit of sunshine too.

Tuesday, 19 February 2019

In Spring Time, A Man's Thoughts Turn To Love

The infatuation continues. I cannot get her out of my mind. She haunts my dreams. I lose myself at work and day dream of her as the customers flip out on the phone, the management rages at me to get my poop in a group - and I am oblivious to  it all.

Oh my beloved, you look so beautiful in Trebark camoflage...


And an appropriate love song is just the ticket as you perv out  fantasize 
about your beloved..

What is that, my sweet? Detonator Yellow? You
wear any colour so well...

Actually, the truth is that yes, I still have a crush on The Lady Argo. I am still trying to decide if she is to young for me. But what I really wanted was an excuse to play that tune. I hadn't heard it in a hundred years until the other night when I was binge watching The Umbrella Academy on Netflix. It's an absolutely ridiculous show but I fell in love with the characters and the cinematography. When Ape Boy and The Fashion Star started dancing to the tune I felt like a kid myself!

If you have an IQ below freezing as I do - give the series a whirl. Be warned, it starts slow but it becomes addictive later on.

I Am Ready

Ready For Humpday

Yannow - for all my gear queer tendencies... I've never once had an ammo can.
I have a chit load of those MTM tupperwares
stacked up in the dungeon and take a few with me when I head to the range.

Gear Queer PRIDE

It's come to my attention that a couple of sniggering wretches have been saying rotten things about me and calling me a 'gear queer' behind my back. They're damned lucky I don't go postal on their sorry asses with my endless assortment of multitools, flashlights and weapons!!!

But the hell of that is that it's true! If I could I'd walk around strapped with hand grenades and rocket launchers at work and at home and to formal occasions of every sort. If Pete was having troubles getting the BBQ going I'd light 'er up with napalm. If the stereo on the patio was too loud, I'd turn it down with an HK MP7! Oh man - and electronics... I'd love one a those back packs with the big antenna on it, and the phone that ya gotta crank to raise anyone with. I'd start yammering on it like a pro too. "Borepatch One this Filthie Two: Argle Bargle! Flipper off!!! Over and out!" I'd look oh-so-cool as everyone tried to figure out what I was saying, HAR HAR HAR! I could mouth off about creeps like Jack and Quartermain and wouldn't have to worry about getting pounded for my ropey mouth.

But life intervenes.

So naturally my degeneracy got the better of me as I consider all the duffels and bags I am gonna need to store my camping stuff in The Dawgmobile.  My intent is that if I decide to peel out on a Friday after school - all my stuff is in the truck and ready to rip, with no more than a few items that could be added in 15 minutes or less.

Sweet! I'd look just like a Marine with a couple of those in the back!

The problem with that is this - just the look of those bags will tell the dirtballs and fur bags that something cool is in them. One of the other gunnies - I think it might have been du Toit - reported that one of his buddies had had his truck broken into and a rifle and some costly equipment stolen. There was a picture of the truck - sparkling like a gem. It was a jacked 4x4 built for high altitude, low opening (HALO) if ya catch my drift. I'm an otherwise law abiding citizen and even I got jealous looking at it.

I am going to go non-descript with mine, I think. I am going to buy cheap duffels that look like they might be full of smelly hockey pads and skates, maybe. I might even go so far as to buy a jock strap and artificially stain it - and leave it prominently displayed on them so that thieves would look at it and cringe.

There's a time and a place to play the roles - and another to be low key and stay below the radar.

Sunday, 17 February 2019

Family Day In Alberta

Monday is Family Day up here in Alberta  - a civic holiday meant to get families together and break up the winter before the arrival of spring. We aren't going to see the ice melt until the middle of April sometime.

When my family cratered I was torn right up about it. Being raised by shitlibs and cucks as I was, even I did not see the lunacy they were capable of even when it started manifesting itself in obvious and tangible ways. When it did, I'd just pour another beer and soak my heart, or pack up and go shooting or camping just to get away. Or grit my teeth. I'd tell myself everything is alright, things would work out, they'd come to their senses and all was well.

And each year, things got a little nuttier and stupider than the last.

Finally things got so bad that it all just blew up, and three generations of formerly solid family just went *POOF!* in the matter of a couple hours. Even in the wake of that, I'd tell myself that this was just a spat that would blow over, they'd see the error of their ways and maybe we could patch things up.

And each year, the silence and separation dragged out.

Jeez, I tore myself to shreds for years over it. Still do, from time to time. But each year, the ache and hurt abates, and each year the sense of loss becomes smaller and smaller. When I look back on the shit that came off those people - GAH. I hate to say it, but the truth of the matter is that things are better the way they are now.

I learned some things the hard way - which I will pass on to you. If you have shitlibs, cucks, or social justice warriors in your family - keep your distance from them, and minimize your contact with them. Keep them the hell away from your kids. Whatever you do - don't let them get into your family or at your kids. Keep things frosty and distant because they are probably going to hurt themselves sooner rather than later - and they will take you along for the ride if they are able. There's nothing you can do, there is no compromise you can come to with them. Like alcoholics, they have to reach rock bottom before they will ever straighten out and even then, most will not be able to see the forest for the trees. They'll blame everyone else for their miseries and failures but themselves.

The other thing I'd recommend is that if your kid is in public school - get them out. NOW. All they are going to learn there is how to do drugs, and throw away their morals and ethics. You want to build those in kids, not destroy them. Up here the unionized pooch screwers that pose as public educators are trying to do away with tests and deadlines because they are too hurtful to the student's self esteem. It's bullshit; they just want to babysit the kids, and don't want to do the work of teaching them. Uncle Bob used to say that if he were in charge he'd burn down the public schools with the teachers trapped inside, and salt the earth upon which they stood afterward. All I can say to that is I will arm wrestle anyone for the honour of throwing the match on the gasoline, HAR HAR HAR!!!

And of course, even if ya do everything right as a parent - you are only 50% of the equation. You can do everything right and everything can still go to hell in a handbasket.

Modern people are solely focused on the branches of the family, it seems to me - and stupid people are busily digging and chopping at the roots to settle old scores and grievances. They're too damned stupid that once the roots let go - the tree goes down, branches and all.

Dig in fellas. Hold fast. God Bless.

Have a good Monday.

Errr - an addendum might be in order here too:

Boiling With RAGE

Oh hi everyone!

Well I am so damned mad, I could friggin spit!!! M and the other mean kids circled round me and my buddy here, and started making fun of me and my stove, and made all kinds of hurtful, hateful comments. Even the innernet's most fearsome survivor - Harold - piled on!!! Sob!

So me and my buddy PJ called them a bunch of Iso-Butane-O-Phobes... and flounced out in a snit! That'll learn those a-holes!!! How jealous the other pervs will be about the new sexuality we invented! HAR HAR HAR!

So we piled into PJ's Prius and decided to go decompress in a safe place like MEC - where toxic masculinity isn't tolerated, and the clientele are more nurturing and inclusive.

On the way down, probly headed to the same store- we wound up behind car festooned with pagan bumper stickers like this! I chit you not!!! There was an unearthly aura around the car, and an ungodly stench in the Prius - and then a gap unfolded in the space time continuum in front of the pagan - and the car was gone. PJ asked me if we should maybe smoke a fattie to calm our nerves and I seriously considered it.

Rather than push my luck with PJ and evil spirits I decided to go home and try the Fwench Press gizmo on my Jet Boil. Long story short - the Jet Boil boils water like a son of a gun! FAST! The problem is that it is built to burn like a rocket ship - and throttling it for the rolling boil ya need for coffee - is pretty damn tough. I ended up making a helluva mess with hot water and boiled over coffee grounds everyewhere.

The coffee press cannot be recommended.
Don't waste your money.

I am going to have to pronounce a firm 'Thumbs Down' on the Fwench Press Coffee gadget. They're only 15 bucks so I didn't get ripped off too bad. For now, coffee - for me -means boiling the water and throwing in those coffee bags. Looks like the mean kids are right about this one after all, maybe. Oh well - nobody's perfect.

In other news, the cold snap has given me a break today so I am going to take advantage. My new heroes, Esme and Michael cut it a little close last week, heading out in -30C to do what they do.

Back in my heyday I could do -30C and lower but I had all the gear, it was all top notch, and I knew how to use it. You DO NOT want to be messing around with new gear and toys at those temperatures, and he's damned lucky Esme didn't get frostbite. In those temps you need a balaclava, mitts and the works. Camping below -25C stops being less about fun and starts being about staying warm. The vehicles and animals get cranky and unreliable too.

Have yourselves a great Sunday and hopefully you are catching a break in the crappy weather too.


Friday, 15 February 2019

That's One Way A Doin It...

Up here in Oil Country we sorted the men's from the women's by the sounds that came from within:



Whatever works, I guess.

Quick, Quartermain!!! To The Filthiemobile!!!!

We seriously need to upgrade. 
Quartermain thought this rice rocket would be a chick magnet
but it just seems to turn them off for some reason.

Today's Blade Fetish: The Tracker

I am trying really hard to like this knife - or the new breed of 'Trackers' as they are called - but I'm just not seeing it. That thing would be a royal PITA to sharpen, and yeah, I've seen the cool kids doing bush-crafty things with them like any other knife. I love the looks of them. The false edge appeals to me.

Variations of this concept get utterly silly.

That one might be good for digging a rock out of the ground for the fire pit, or maybe sticking it in the gizzard of some PANTIFA or Talibanger a-hole... but even then there are better knives for those too. This one doesn't even look good to my eye.

GAH - that one looks like the blade some stinky jihadi might stick in MY gizzard, HAR HAR HAR!!!

I am a man on a mission of late: I want to kit out my truck so that everything I need to go camping - is in the truck and ready to rip. I want my gear, my tarps and tent, my axe, a change of clothes - all duffelled and bagged up in the truck so that I only need to throw in a fart sack, a cooler of food maybe, and the guns and other stuff that I don't want to store there. After mentally futzing around with this project I realized that what I was essentially doing was preparing a Bug Out Bag - or a couple of them. I wanted to make sure I had a couple camp knives ready to too.

With all due respect to Rambo and the knife artisans - in thirty years of camping I've never needed a BMF survival knife (even though I had a couple). Those things are beautiful to look at, and scratch an itch in the soul - but for what I do - they're just dead weight. The knife I wanted, I realized - didn't exist. Or so I thought.

These knives are about twenty bucks off Amazon and with a little DIY they become real survival blades. I will whip the sheaths on mine with Fire Cord - the inner strands can be pulled to start fires and work even when wet - or you can use it for regular cordage. I've heard that the blades aren't that sharp - but they can be stropped to a razor with a little elbow grease. I will give 'er a go and let ya know how I make out. It's just a little project to keep the hands busy and fend off the cabin fever as we ride out the last of this cold spell.

Have a great Friday.

Wednesday, 13 February 2019


Good Morning - Rise N' Shine!!!

I thank my Maker that I am no longer on the dating market.
The ladies are reminded to be profusely thankful for that fact too.


A hundred years ago I was over at the next door neigbours when his folks were over visiting. He'd just bought some snow eating fire breathing Bombardier winter missile that we were all supposed to be impressed with.

I looked at it without much enthusiasm. "That's alright I guess," I said, "But my first machine was a 1969 Bombardier Olympic with that Rotax Super 370 boxer engine. 0-30 MPH at the speed of light - but not much after that...". The asshole kids sniggered at that.

Behold the god of my youth: a 1969 Bombardier Olympique!!!

The old boy pipes up and goes, "Mine was a rip snorter - a 1971 TNT...!" Holy chit, I said, that IS a barn burner if ever there was one. "Damn right," the old boy said, "0-60 at the speed of light... but not much left after that..."

This dragon is the mighty TNT - or 'Tunts' as 
we used to call them.

The youngsters were openly chuckling now and me and the old guy got madder n' hell about it. In fact I still get steamed about those little shits looking down their noses at these grand old machines. The old guy had a few pics in his wallet and showed me - but told his son to get lost! HAR HAR HAR! We talked about old machines and old trails. I was old enough to appreciate my elders and their pioneering machines.

That's the new MXZ X-RS. 165 horsepower, probly
capable of over 100 MPH on flat ice.
Got $10K?

I was talking about sleds with King Peter last weekend. About 15 years ago we were out getting drunk ice fishing and an old senior putt-putted up to us on a 250cc machine that was just the ticket for the sportsman. I wonder if they make such machines today?

Post Cards From Another Country

The Z Man has been knocking them out of the park lately and he's done superlative work on the changes we are seeing in our countries. He is absolutely right too. Remember when humour was legal? When coloured assholes worried about offending white people? All that and more is back there with te buffalo, biplanes, and buggy whips.

TB is feeling the winds of change blowing too.

And as for me, I just try and make what little sense of it that I can.

The present is a curious place to be, I will grant you that. It used to be that stuff like this outraged and offended me - but now I just shrug. I've seen this all before. I saw it coming 15 years ago when queers were tearfully pleading for equal rights and the privacy of their own bedrooms. When I said that stuff like this would come of that - I was told to shut up and FOAD.  Today libertarians sheepishly hem and haw and shuffle their feet and say stuff like "this is the price of freedom..." They might outrage me a little bit as they defend a degenerate demographic hellbent on undermining the first and second amendment (and that's just for starters) - but at the end of the day, whadda I know and who is gonna listen to an obsolete stubfart?

Where do we go now, TB?

I lifted that last one from TB's too. From my vantage point here in this man made maelstrom, a fella like me is hooped. I can't go backwards, I'm not going forward to embrace this suicidal lunacy... so all that's left is to go sideways! Like the old saying goes, if ya can't lead and ya can't follow - get the hell out of the way!  HAR HAR HAR!!! I'm going to stock up on beer, ammo and popcorn and maybe try and square accounts with my Maker if He'll have it.

Not much else a fella can do.

Monday, 11 February 2019

A Timely Reminder: Wednesday Is Hump Day: NSFW

If I'd Had A Son, He'd Probly Look Like...

Who else said that recently? 

Boom, Baby

Falling In Love At 55

I am blinded by her beauty. Her siren song fills my ears with tranquility and my heart with love. The sun dances on the waves with all the grace that she does.

She's completely amphibious, an absolute demon in mud, and - if ya put on
the accessory tank treads - she's a snow bunny in winter, 
even in the deepest powder drifts!!!

I've been binge watching this ol' stubfart for a couple days now.

I am somewhat familiar with the area that Michael and Esme camp in. I've hunted and fished west of Edson for years. I used to have an ATV years ago but as I got older it just sat round and collected dust. I stopped hunting and camping but lately - I've been hankering for the outdoors again. We used to camp all year round, even in winter. 

I need something to do with myself in my old age or I'll be on the S&W retirement plan before my time, HAR HAR HAR!!! 

I miss the forest, the snow, and the silence.  Might have to sell the camper and go back to basics.

Understanding Children

Last night, while out slumming on the Innerpipes, I slipped in a big steaming pile of sanctimony and ridicule! It's okay though, my millennial moral and intellectual superiors set me straight!

Bill Maher is an F-tard at the best of times but he sure triggered this snowflake. She sounds EXACTLY like my lesbian SJW daughter and her creepy girlfriend did when they flipped out and ran away to join the circus 5 years ago. How dare you ask them to grow up, fuck you, their failures are all your fault!!! There's more BS out of their mouths in 5 paragraphs than I could respond to in 50. This whole tantrum comes off a script; my daughter said basically the exact same thing verbatim when she flipped me the bird.

A search turned this candid pic up of Catherine. Charming, isn't xhe.
.I dunno how many times my daughter looked back at me like that.
This is the way they look at you when you try to talk sense into them.

Perhaps things to work out in the end? I don't have to put up wit stupidity like that anymore, I don't have to hold the bag for it any more, and there is no place for me in the lives of the kids like this anyways.

Fah - we tried, kids. But you knew it all then, just as you know it all now, Enjoy the comics and cosplay kids.