Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

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

Sunday, 31 March 2019

Bloated British Butt Blaster Boycotts Brunei Bigwig

In better days and times, I coulda writ headlines for newspapers.

Bouncing Back

The guy behind the archery counter laughed at me. "Oh man... that sure takes me back..."

He was laughing at my tackle. I had an old PSE Solo Cam (which were supposed to be the best thing since sliced bread when they came out 20 years ago) - and a quiver full of old top of the line X7 Eclipse 2512's. They were super light and fast in their time, but ya paid for that in blood! You could bend them with a dirty look! I'd relegated them to my 'fire and forget' hunting arrows. If ya hit your animal they were bent and part of the trophy for the hunt. If ya missed they were bent and ya threw them away!

The ones with the brown 5" fletch are the old aluminums.
The pencil leads above are the new breed of carbon fibere arrows.

The clerk was an old fart and smirked, "the bow's a relic, just like its owner..." and we both HAR HAR HARed about that. "We'll set ya up with some good carbon fibre arrows, Mr. Filthie! You'll love 'em: if they ain't broke, they're still good!" Unlike aluminum arrows that can get bends so small you can't even see them until ya roll 'em across the table. Some people claim they can straighten aluminums but I never saw anyone do it to my satisfaction. I started snivelling about how sticky the damned carbons are but the clerk would have none of it. "What century are you in Mr. Filthie? Pulling carbons is easy now - they've perfected the manufacture of them now so that very, very little sticks to them...!"

Back in my day, if you fired the old Beman carbon arrows into the target, pulling them out was like pulling them out of a tree! They were so sticky that nothing short of adrenaline and road rage would get them out - and usually some of the target came with them. We had these gripper gimmicks and coated them with talcum, the problem was so bad. Sure hope he's right and not BSing me... I will find out later today. They don't use the big long (and handsome) feather fletch anymore either. It's all those little stubby fletches. Apparently they will stabilize the super thin carbons even with a warhead on.

I shot indoors yesterday and I didn't even have to re-tune the bow, which I found odd. They hit to the same point of impact that the old aluminums did too. We'll see what the story is at 30 yards and out soon.

When I was younger I'd fire 100 ~ 150 arrows a day off a 75 lb. hunting bow and think nothing of it. I'd hit with that sumbitch too and no bones about it. One day I pished off all the formal field archers at a turkey shoot. I found that if I took my 60m site pin, and aimed at the wind flag on top of the target at 90m - I could belly flop an arrow into the 9 and 10 ring fairly consistently. Yesterday I was done after 60. My arm and shoulder just gave out. I can work on that. My first shots were all 9s and 10s but then I just went to pot after that.

I was going to relax but this young fella and his gal came in to shoot and she was just as pretty as a picture. She was wearing those new skin tight jeans with the rips and even at my advanced age I did a double take - and her boy friend caught it and gave me the stink eye. He had arms as big around as my legs so I wisely beat it. There is nothing creepier in the world than and old man and that is why I get on well with dregs like Jack and Harry and that lot. HAR HAR HAR!!! HAR HAR HAR!!! Cheap shot! HAR HAR HAR!

Today I am going to sneak out into the country with my bow and pointy sticks and set up my foam cube target and shoot someplace safe where I can't make an ass of myself. I am going to hunt again this year, and I need to start prepping now. You all have a great Sunday and try to find the time to do something fun.


Saturday, 30 March 2019

When We Were Kings

How many would you have at the end of the season?
I used to put those an a tiny open faced reel and a Shimano rod
that could fire those things to the moon
with surgical accuracy.
I could tell when a brookie was breathingon my lures too.

I would have them all. I was wearing a 5 Of Diamonds and a Red Devil back when men didn't wear ear rings. I had a couple of Mepps and Arctic Foxes in my eyebrows and a BB filled Rattletrap through my nose. My fishing buddies, Baloney Bob and Big Jeff got some of my lures the same way. 

Remember men: Barbless hooks! It's only sporting for the fish, dontchya know!

Therapy Pets For The Retard School

As the principal of Uncle Bob's Institute For Wayward Boys N' Retards I am always on the lookout for new ways to help my students connect with their world around them. But of course, nothing ever goes right with those buggardly tosspots. The kitty ate Quatermain, and Pete killed and ate the dog.

One day me and my li'l emissaries from heaven will take our rightful place in the world... but it ain't gonna be today.

Tremble In Fear, Ye Mighty Hunters

All I gotta say about that is this: WL Emery + .416 Rigby = Bronto Steaks
I bet even T Rex;s would taste 
good with HP, Frank's Red Hot, or Worcestshire

Friday Night: The Filthie Party Animal

When we were kids there was this lame comedy hour on CBC on Friday night that only losers - like my wife and I - would watch. Everyone else in the world had better things to do on Friday night than stay at home and watch TV... but we were new parents, penniless, and lost in the world. Anyhoo, one of the running gags that we enjoyed were these two ghastly, hideously made up comediennes that would come on, and their schtick was that they were so homely and stupid, none of the guys would date them and thus they were stuck at home on Friday night to bitch and joke about the political and social issues of the day. They weren't that funny, but they always finished their skit with by shrieking that it was "Friday Niiiiiiight!!!!" and start partying by hauling out those super tiny - drinklet bottles they used to sell at the liquor store. I guess ya had to be there to appreciate what little humour there was of it.

Last night all the party animals were at the chapel doing this odd 'dusk to dawn prayer nite' thing. I still don't get it - the wife goes and wanted me to drop by too for awhile. I felt like one of those girls from that old comedy show - a loser at odds with nothing better to do on Friday night!!!  But I went to make the wife happy.

Turned out to be a profound experience because the place was filled with other losers and buttholes too. They all sit around and air their beefs and then pray about them, or they do it as they pray. One of the fellas was a teacher and I walked in on the tail-end of his rant at 9:30. He was praying for the messed up kids that found their way into his class room. I guess one had attempted a suicide or something and it had left him shaken. I laughed like hell as another old stubfart stood up and loudly prayed for his idiot daughter. She had shacked up with some guy that was a militant atheist and he was just right bummed out about it. I sat at the back and hunkered down, rudely smirking to myself at that. "Buddy, if you ever want to compare notes on shitty daughters..." I thought to myself... and then I was instantly ashamed. I know what it is like to fail as a father, and I found myself throwing out a quick prayer for the stubfart and his daughter. Some folks were seriously messed up - one old boy a little older than I got up and shuffled slowly out - he clearly had some painful mobility issues. Others prayed for sick friends and relatives. One fella was an idiot that got into booze and drugs and seemed to be pulling himself together and all the big guns there murmured their approval as he droned on about his redemption. I felt guilty about that too - there was a time when I was hitting that bottle awful hard too. Whatever the case - the people afflicted seemed to draw strength and resolve from the support - even if all it was, was some anonymous bum like me showing up to listen. I can see why people crack up - they face this kind of shite that life throws at them and have no one sane to share it with. It's hard to sit there and listen to them and hear of their hurts and losses. But after it all, you heave a sigh, shake it off and you walk out feeling better. You see how good you actually have things, and you see the world through the eyes of people who view it much differently than you do.

There are worse ways to spend a Friday night I suppose.

Today I am off to get crunched by the chiroquack, then I am going to do some high speed low drag Crapcopter aerobatics - and I think I will break my bow out and see if I can bring my archery gear and tackle into the 21st century. It's going to be a great day around the castle  - I hope you have some good stuff lined up this weekend too.

Have a great Saturday and thanks for stopping by.

Friday, 29 March 2019

Into The MACHINE: Part One

While back one a my favourite bloggers had decided to de-couple and drop out for awhile. The news was full a beans, bubble heads and BSer's, so he reasoned. What point in watching it? Then he up and did the same thing with the entertainment industry. Every time ya turn around they are pushing sexual degeneracy, communism, feminism, and worse - who needs it? He has a point.

One problem at a time.

After prolonged discussion me and the other scientists here at Uncle Bob's Institute For Wayward Boys - decided we needed some kind of machine that could take in all the media bullshit, blather and bluster in one end - and the distilled truth would come out the other. So we went to work and the first attempt was a disaster. We piped in The Daily Beast, Kos, and The Estrogen Post … and the machine lost it's artificial mind! It ripped free of its moorings and bent Jack and Quartermain over a rail! It made the boys bark like pigs so I let it run a bit for gits and shiggles - but when I tried to unplug it, it went after me! I got b*tch slapped into the middle of next week and back again and it would have destroyed the world had not WL and M initiated the Emergency Shut Down Protocols - with a shovel and a fire axe! Clearly - even mild doses of the mass media is enough to drive simpler minds nuts!

So we went back to the drawing board. This time, we'd do it right! Pete ordered in some solid state 40 terawatt anti-SPAM negators from NASA, and M refluxed the digital intake with double pumping multiplexed WTF filters.

This time, we were going ALL IN. We moved into Area 51 and sunk a shaft beside the flying saucers. It was 150 feet deep, and at the bottom was a lead lined room just big enough to accommodate the machine. A three foot thick layer of cement encased the shaft and the room at the bottom. The machine was carefully lowered into the bunker, and then sealed. We fired up the boilers above, and soon the machine was up and running on saturated, super heated steam. Our fear was that the machine might set off an electronic chain SPAM reaction... so steam power only made sense!

When all was ready... we started brought the machine on line. Carefully we ran a feed of the light stuff... NBC, CNN... and the machine didn't even miss a beat! Encouraged, we dialled it up a bit: we started feeding in the CBC, BBC and other soy producers.

"Status, Jack?" I asked.

"The logic gates are running a little warm but so far - nothing to worry about! All systems nominal... Logic is GO."

So we did it, I went through all the section chiefs:

SPAM? "GO!" Pete replied.
PROPGAGANDA? "All systems GO, Glen!" McFoster replied.

On it went, until they had all given us the green light.

So. This was it.

'Well boys... do your thing!" And with that, I hauled out my flask and took a big belt of courage.

"New York Times feed is active! Washington Post feed is active!" The machine hummed to itself, in the dark depths of it's bunker.

"Gawddammit! Has anyone got two bucks?" Sunny asked, "They have a paywall up on the Glob and Snail!" Soon, we had all the mainstream media outlets feeding every single last byte of their digital dreck going into our machine at the speed of light. 

Then Quartermain announced, "The machine is awake, gentlemen!" and the Control Room erupted in cheers. "It is sentient and self aware...and asking for more input...!"

And so finally TB decided to show up and open his yap. "Filthie! Are you mad?!? Do you have any idea of what you've done? You've created an artificial mind! And your are bombarding it with the most demented, degenerate filth and ideas ever conjured up by man! Where is your humanity? Who do you think you are? God....?" 

I roughly pushed him away. "Security! Get him outta here!" I bellowed! "Jack! Our baby wants more so let's feed it! I want every book published by Obutthole, his husband, Hillary, and Bill going into the feed line! Add in the more toxic blogs: The Everyday Cat Lady Feminist and Jizzabel! If it bleats, menstruates, bloviates, pontificates, or deficates - I want it going into my beautiful, precious evil-consuming machine!!!!"

"We've done it, Glen." WL intoned solemnly, "We've created a mind that can absorb all the hate and filth and hypocrisy that the human animal can conceive... and it can process, collate and cross reference that to create truth. We must truly be gods..." . This must have been how Neil Armstrong felt when he stepped out onto the face of the moon.

"Pride goeth before a fall, fellas. You will pay for your hubris, mark my words!" TB shouted. The guards had cuffed him, but they forgot to gag him. I ordered BP to shut him up, and he did so with a rifle butt to the solar plexus. 

With the ensuing silence, I sat and savoured my seat at the plateau of my existence. I smugly congratulated myself for my vision, and reflected on the contributions of all the little people that made my dream a reality.

And of course, right on cue - Quartermain jut HAD to ruin everything! "Edmonton: we have a problem!!!!" Oh good grief! "What is it, Quartermain? Everyone else has a green board, why are YOU trying to rain on my...errr… our parade?"

"It's the machine, Glen. All this garbage, flubdubbery, hogwash and horse puckey is going in... but nothing is coming out! That's a violation of computer rules or something, isn't it...?"

And at the back of the room, TB began to laugh. It ended in a flurry of punches and kicks by the guards, but the devil, Darwin and Murphy laughed on.

Wednesday, 27 March 2019

Falsely Accused

Oh hi everyone.

Things are pretty dicey around Castello Di La Filthie these days. Suffice it to say we've had numerous domestic altercations because of these mysterious smelly skid marks appearing on my side of the bed. I suggested that space aliens might be responsible (after all, when all other explanations have been ruled out, the one that remains - no matter how unlikely - has to be the answer). I took a few hits with the rolling pin for that little theory.

But now I have photographic evidence:

That's my story and I'm stickin' to it!

We've developed a rather nasty morning alarm system here at the castle. When the alarm goes and we get up to drain ourselves - the second the coast is clear this big smelly galoot is on the bed and out like a light! I tried to get him off to make the bed once but once he's there that's it. I made him into the bed once just to see what he would do and he just laid there under the covers.

Without a word of a lie this is the DUMBEST dawg I have ever owned. But he has the biggest heart too and though I love all my dogs - this one is mighty special.

Fuggin Harley Guys

Who is that? Borepatch??? ASM?

Oh my friggin gawd. Look at all that heavy metal! And the leather... gun leather...!

That's on the bucket list! I better update it before I forget!

  1. Violently overthrow the gubbimint of Canada
  2. Hang the liberals and enslave Queerbec
  3. Rescind all gun registration, fire all the vibrants and exotic weirdos from over the rainbow in the RCMP
  4. End the use of white underwear for men
  5.  Harley Davidson with a Thompson submachine gun in a scabbard on the front forks


Sure wish I was cool enough to be a Harley guy...

What A Friggin Schmoz

Well the Alberta elections are looming and suffice it to say, over the last couple of years we got both the gov't we voted for and deserved - good and hard! The place is emptying out and maybe that's a good thing. Back when the boom was on, every single turdie and ruby-dub in Canada thought that in Alberta the streets were paved with gold and money grew on trees.

Listening to the current crop of idiots running in the election - it still is! They are all promising services out the wazzoo, and nobody having to pay for it. Which tells me right there, that if any one of them gets elected they will do what the current idiot is doing - fill their pockets and oink up as much pork at the trough before they get the punt in the next election.

I suppose in all fairness I shouldn't be such a grump; although our current premiere is a hormonal left wing harridan - she isn't as bad as she could have been. I look at those nutter women you Yanks are contending with and I thank my lucky stars.

I am strongly tempted to vote UCP because the soy boys and she-twinks at work were bitching about them so bad - apparently the head of that party is white and Christian and nothing more needs to be said amongst the lefty/shitlibs I work with, HAR HAR HAR!!! But I look over his platform and it's all the same fluffy excrement the rest of them are pedalling: we are going to have gold plated social services, cut taxes, and make the fags and feds in Morontario pay for it!!!! They're all pandering, and they're all full of chit.

My good buddy, Flapz - is pulling the pin. He's moving out to BC to take a job because nothing around here will even come close to the pay he's being offered. He's throwing his house up for sale in a mushy market, and headed west where housing is insane. I dunno what to think about this bust cycle. On the last one, during the darkest days of the 80's, people were walking away from their homes and mortgages in droves, every other day the big companies were in the news announcing layoffs, and youth unemployment hit 37%.

I honestly don't know if I am going to vote this year.

Tuesday, 26 March 2019

The Two Wheeled Ache

Usually at this time of year the motorcycles start coming out. I've seen a few already but that is just nuts - there is dust, gravel and ice everywhere. And I am quite content to let things warm up and the street sweepers do their thing. I drive a big road bike and you can't muscle those monsters if they get squirrelly on the terrain. But for some reason, this year - I can't wait to get out. I seriously considered it last weekend. A man my age shouldn't be that rash.

Tonight I have an eclectic collection of gifs from all my retarded friends, as they clamber aboard their iron horses to entertain us with their skill.

You know the rules son! Replace your divots!

This must be what the Germans mean
when they talk about "Hyper Motard".

From our retarded pen pals in India: Ginderjeet and Goopinder
learn us everything we need to know 
about the 'Flying W' stunt!

That's a 1971 Honda XL 100 - and was my first motorcycle
as a kid.

I can't wait to get out on the road again. You all make sure ya ride safe - and be damned careful until the street sweepers have made the rounds.

Free Speeching And Meanings

Sixbears surprises the pooh outta everyone by noticing something right under his nose - and ours.

I have to be careful with guys like SB and some of the older bloggers. They were raised in better times, by better people and like all old folks... they are prone to trusting people they shouldn't, and still believe that the world works the same as it did when they were younger. I am falling into that exact same trap all too often as I get older. He noticed a couple words that no longer mean what they used to.

Our whole language is being re-constructed. When I was a kid I was a survivalist - one of those eccentrics that loved bushcraft and camping. Of course now the term refers to those kooks getting ready to make war on the world as it comes to an end, and now they are trying to do the same thing with the term 'prepper'. There are folks out there for whom basic survival skills are offensive. My own parents wrinkle their noses and curl their lips in disgust at my racked guns and the wife's provisions shelved in the basement.

Over the course of my life I have seen other words and ideas reframed and I went right along with it. Take the word 'gay' - it now refers to the most sullen, angry and degenerate people you can imagine. I am not sure of my ground here, but I think the rain bow has historically been a symbol of God's sorrow for wiping humans off the face of the earth during the flood. If so - look what it means now. It follows that in today's society Christians are scum of the earth and mentally ill degenerates are celebrated as heroes.

I've seen black and white photos of kids taking Dad's 12 bore to school for show and tell. A couple years ago I read where child lost his father in Iraq. The military gave the squaddie formal honours and fired the guns over the flag draped coffin, and the kid picked up one of the empty brass cartridges. Later the teacher caught him with it at school and he was expelled. As a gun owner mainstream society has been giving me the gears all my adult life. It's funny when the self righteous gun grabbers are brought up short when you ask them what is so unhealthy and unsavoury about the shooting sports? They are often literally stunned to discover there is a difference between a sportsman and a kook with a gun.

How many other words, meanings and ideas are being reframed for us, right under our noses, without us noticing? It's a shame that things will have to get truly bad before something drastic is done about it.

A Morning Inspirational - For M!

Thanks for that harrowing account of your vacation in Holland, M. After reading it I was so disturbed that I didn't sleep at all last night and woke up with the thousand yard stare...

I have seen the elephant.

And now y'all will too!!!! HAR HAR HAR!!! Feast yer eyes, boys!

Monday, 25 March 2019

Ebonics For White People?

The British Ruin EVERYTHING

I am still laughing at this one.

I've gotten into the frootless moral debates with libertarians and liberals who maintain that what ya do with your body is your business, and absitively posilutely none a mine. Furthermore, if I don't like it I can just go stick my head down the nearest toilet and flush a few times. What is a stupid old fart like me gonna know about important issues like 'slut walks' and pink pussy hat parades and such?

Welp, I'd say that if a woman takes off her clothes and poses in the window to offer her services as a prostitute... the customers are going to stare. Some will make off colour comments and I'd a thunk that would go hand in hand with the trade. Not so, I guess, and those stupid yobs and chavs from Kipperland are ruining the sex trade for everyone! Prostitution is a tasteful, respectful celebration of female sexuality dontchya know.

Will women ever be free of the exploitation and depredations of horrible men? Inquiring minds like mine have a right to know!

Sunday, 24 March 2019

The Question Has To Be Asked


I have seen the media flat out lie and fabricate their news several times now. The last time they went off was when they accused those Covington high school kids of racially taunting some native who turned out to be a ruby-dub derelict that personifies pretty much every racial slur used about natives.

The mass media cannot be trusted, it is just that simple. I fear in my bones that Irish has the wrong of this, but unfortunately we have no reliable sources at present to tell us what really happened. Were I a judge in this case, I would demand morgue and autopsy reports and I would fact check the gov'ts and the media's story out the wazzoo.

I Think The Technical Term Is 'Marinade'...

Awhile back I bought one of those Traeger BBQ's that does the wood pellets. In one of their ads, the founder of the company is shown booting a beat up old gas BBQ out to the garbage. I am about to do the same thing to the Traeger BBQ. That thing has been a POS from day one and now it's gone dead and I can't be bothered to fix it. I am going back to wood in the firepit and charcoal in the Barbie - and that is that for that.

I've heard of people using pop for a marinade but have never tried it myself. Might have to fix that this year.


One a my moral and intellectual superiors has virtually exiled himself from the world of current events, and I was seriously thinking of following suit. It's not anything major - just a bunch of little things that make me think that either the world is going nuts - or I am.

I suppose I am crapping for all I'm worth 
into that funnel too...

The last straw, I think, was that mosque shoot up in New Zealand. Everything about that one just effs me right off. 

Don't look at that tasteless cartoon
It'll make ya want to pick up an AR15
and start machine-gunning

It was the gun's fault. Or it was some conservative political pundit on the internet that made the perp flip out. We need to ban guns. We need to censor people. In fact, in order to prove that we aren't a bunch of hatey, ignernt racists - we have to open our doors and flood our nations with ignorant, hateful racists and pretend everything is just peachy when those yodelling mutts flip out and kill us. 

The wheels are falling off the bus. Everyone can see it and everyone has all the answers even as that bus is poised to go careening over a cliff. I am strongly tempted to stick my head in the sand somewhere too. The internet is dissolving into an idiot pipe and I don't think censoring it is gonna work - but whadda I know.

Friday, 22 March 2019

A New Olympic Sport?

I gave up on the Olympics ages ago. To me it show cases everything that is wrong and flawed about mankind - the blood doping, the corrupt judges, the fake fixed competitions... it mirrors my own experience with sporting events. 100 years ago I was an archer and a damned good one. I was hassling the top competitors in my class on a regular basis but could never seem to beat them and after a couple years I saw why - they cheated like sonsabitches! Nobody ever called them on it and one year I did - and the chit hit the fan! Of course the cheaters were all sanctioned by the manufacturers and were reps and there was big money in it and bragging rights... so nothing happened. But attendance dropped right off. What's the point in shelling out for gas, tournament fees, campsites and all the rest if the same guys are just going to cheat and spoil it for everyone? And that was just me in the bush leagues... can you imagine a talented youngster, dedicating their lives to their chosen sport - and putting on the performance of their life - just to get shot down by some corrupt judge from another country favouring his own people? Even the bids and competition to host the Olympics is riddled with grifters, fraud, and scammers. Awhile back I heard there were efforts being made to make it more attractive with more events - like ribbon twirling??? Snow boarding??? Why not competitive eating? Or competitive crapping...?


Alrighty then. Sorry about that everyone! I see we're gonna have to bring out new toiletry regulations and laws again..

From here on out, every crapper in North America must have a compliant child restraint device. No exceptions!!! 

Try not to get any on ya today too.  :)

Gun Griping: QA/QC

I really don't want to say this - but our gun industry actually does need a steel toed boot right up the arse. I am convinced that they are letting their quality slide. I bought a Marlin Guide Gun in 45-70 brand new about ten years ago - stoked it up and the fourth shell hung up in the tubular mag and wouldn't cycle. It happened right at the indoor range where I bought it and I nearly murdered the kid at the sales counter when he told me I'd have to take it up with the manufacturer. The owner rushed in, gave me another gun and took the defective one and dealt with it himself. He stepped up as he should have... but by the same token, he shouldn't have had to. I think I read someplace that the gun makers are putting crossbolt safties on their lever guns now too. GAH. Hammer guns don't need safeties - unless you're a squaddie or a hare lipped retard. Squaddies use and abuse their guns hard and a safety makes sense... but no mechanical safety is gonna help the retard. But I digress...  Couple years later I bought a Remington SPS bolt gun and it was the biggest piece of chit too - I was going to have to refurb it from the ground up and actually started doing that... and then gave up in disgust after putting a Shilen match barrel on it. It was going to be another money pit that I didn't need so I sold it. Other guns I've bought have nit-pickey fit and finish things going on too and it pishes me off when I am paying top dollar for them.

These are probably not a fair argument to make regarding fit and finish - they are lavish luxury guns by custom makers that fetch $150 000 Euros plus - but
they do make for good gun porn.

This is a growing problem in North America - but it's absolutely rampant in Europe. Awhile back all the cool kids would puff up their chests and loudly proclaim how they hated the AR15 - the service rifle of our squaddies. I think they thought it made them edgy and relevant or something. Welp, if you want to see seriously crappy service guns - get a gander at this:

A cutie, a beauty and a beast

That rifle the lass is holding is the BIGGEST piece a chit in the world and I think the British kippers are still using it. If I ever become King Of The Gun Geeks - every AR15 hater and every AK47 lover will have that British rifle shoved up their keesters - sideways. The British rifle is heavy, unreliable, expensive and just plain fugly. If you think an AR15 sucks... you don't know what suckage is!

I wonder. With our gubbimints taxing the hell out of guns, if manufacturers are cutting corners to keep pricing down? Whatever the cause is - there is no excuse for crappy guns.

The Filthie Demonologist

Awhile back I came across a medieval map of the world on the internet that was festooned and illuminated with not only geographical data, but biblical saints, demons, heroes and villains. It was as much a map of the medieval soul as it was of their world. I was most impressed with a demon that manifested itself as a game animal that tempted hunters into damnation by farting at them and seducing them with evil. People supposedly have patron saints - if there were such thing as patron demons that one would be mine; I fart at friends and enemies alike and leave them praying for the refreshing scent of sulphur and brimstone, HAR HAR HAR!!!!

By contrast, today's demons are boring, uninspired and soul-less just like the losers that believe in them. There's the eeeeevil racists, haters, homophobes and sexists. Just so ya know, those demons are also at my own personal beck and call - I and my fellow old stubfarts are ruining the world, if certain parties are to be believed. Fortunately a new breed of angels and saints like Alexia Occasional Cortex, Justin Turdo, and crusading social justice warriors have risen to save the world and lead the faithful into a utopia of social justice and niceness. Virtue as pure as the driven snowflakes will scour guys like me from the earth... but I am okay with it.

Angels and saints. 

One of my favourite bloggers was so disgusted with the acting and scripting of current morality plays that he literally stood up and walked out of the theatre to go futz around in the garden and do something useful! At first, I thought he was nuts - you don't turn your back on demons, that's literally how a fella gets kilt! "Nothin' I can do about it," he replied.  He made a good point. Yannow what? I think I am going to blow this popsicle stand too! Like all the fiction coming out of Hollywood these days - it's all about shitty, bitchy empowered women, turd brained queers and coloured arseholes. They can have it! HAR HAR HAR!!! There are real demons in this world, and in my life... those are the ones I need to confront!

Behold your doom, modern sinners: The Battery Demon

Yesterday the spring breeze infused me with a feeling of virtue and righteousness and I went out to the shed. It hasn't been opened since fall last year. Frost heaves had made the doors jam shut tighter n' the gates of hell. Demons fear the righteous and throw up barriers to thwart them. I got pissed and grabbed a shovel and levered them open. Time stands still in that shed and everything was just as I left it half a year ago. A beat up old company ball hat hung from a hook and reminded me that last year I was a senior sales manager at the apex of his career. I wore that grungy hat as a talisman to remind myself that that was not who I was. My customers often wore similar hats - I wonder if it was for similar reasons? When you're a sales guy or a manager you always have to wear that mask. That and the road can grind you down and for me that hat was a small gesture of defiance of all that. It's hard to explain to someone who hasn't experienced it, I guess. Like explaining air to a fish. Today I work for kids half my age at half my former wage - and I thank my Maker that I can do it. I left that hat on it's hook... I don't think I need it anymore. The gen, the mower and all my other tools n' implements were all neatly parked right where I left them before I buttoned the shed up before the snow. I spied my foam archery target and vowed again that this year I would drag it out and use it. Archery is therapeutic to the soul too.

With my halo glowing bright I put the key in my mighty street cruising motorbike and caressed the starter - and she rolled over with a rumble and welcomed me back My bike is not piped, she idles somewhere between a purr and a rumble that soothes the soul without offending the ear. I guess my halo had banished the battery demons from the shed and all is well in there. I shut off the bike and closed the shed back up - we'll roll her out right on time this year as always. In your face, Battery Demons!!! My iron horse LIVES!!! And so - for the moment and the grace of my Maker do I.

By contrast the Battery Demons bent Flapz over a rail and made him bark like a pig: both his Harleys were flat and dead despite languishing in a heated garage for the winter, and his side by side UTV was deader than a door nail too. I sent a quick text to let Flapz know about my victory and was rewarded with a heart warming stream of rage and profanity back. Such are the rituals of spring hereabouts. This spring I was reminded that there are more important sinners and saints in life to worry about.

I will wish you the best of luck with yours, and thanks for stopping by.

Have a great Friday.

Wednesday, 20 March 2019

Thursday Screaming Meemies...!

Don't eat the chili at Mad Jack's Shack. There's a reason that place 
smells the way it does.

If a whale farts in the ocean, and no one is around to laugh at it
is it still funny?

The kids aren't calling it 'Soy Wars' for nothing
these days...

Probly a lot a other things you'll find up there too.

I hear King Charles and Betty are under the weather 
down in Coopville.
Hope they're feeling better soon.

Stop that laughing, you damned Yanks!
You can't keep the democrats out of the Whitehouse forever!
Then we'll see how YOU like it...!

Diversity Thursday: If Ya Can't Beat 'Em... Cultural EnrichMINT

100 years ago the fags and hags over at The Glob And Snail were sobbing into their teddy bears, and praying to a God they didn't believe in, and giving their thoughts to a car stuffed with Packie-Stannie vibrants that had crashed on the 401 highway in Morontario - and they all got kilt! And of course all the trolls came out and popped a cool one to celebrate and promptly got banned out of the comments. I took a different tack with  the issue. I pished and moaned in the comments - in a positive and politically correct way - about the loss of the cultural vibrancy on Canadian highways, and how, if maybe we dumbed down the driver's exams at the DMV - we could get MORE cultural enrichment on the highways and make Canada a shining beacon of hope to the world where anyone could own a car and drive it any way they wanted to in freedom on our great open freeways. Maybe we could import more vibrants to replace the ones that Darwin and Murphy got too...

I laid it on a little too thick and after a few posts like that, the shitlibs figured out that I wasn't serious about hopey-changiness, diversity and equality at all - and I got banned, HAR HAR HAR! But not before I punked Warren Kinsella, a former liberal minister, self-proclaimed SJW and Nazi hunter! I even had Mark Steyn chuckling and quoting my work!

So... it is in that vein that I'd like to say how utterly HEART BROKEN we all are here at the Thunderbox about those poor, poor innocent moslems that got shot up by a hatey white ethno-nationalist eco-fascist... and maybe think about replacing the vibrants that got cashiered in New Zealand with maybe some nice new ones! Perhaps I might encourage the gay community, the angry feminists, and the multigendered to put aside their political agendas and help me to help the New Zealanders replace all the diversity strength that they so tragically lost?

This young fella would make an excellent new New Zealander!!!
You can see the love and hope 
in the expression on his face for all to see!

The new citizens can do the menial jobs that stupid, arrogant white people won't!

Others are skilled tradesmen that could fill
New Zealands trade labour shortage.

Lookin' sharp, Abu Al Fuknuk Al!!!

Oh I'm sure your new friends from over the rainbow will
adjust to the freezing New Zealand weather just fine... in the fullness of time!

So you see, New Zealand - there is all KINDS of strength and diversity just waiting for you over the rainbow - and it's available by the boat-load! I call on all our moral and intellectual superiors to set an example, and welcome these dreamers, these movers and shakers, these visionaries - into their own homes and communities!

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go to the washroom. It's getting a little smelly around here! HAR HAR HAR!

Have a great Thursday!

Tuesday, 19 March 2019

Something Here From Somewhere Else: The Filthie Theatre Goer

I've given up trying to understand the finger waggers and scolds. How does a guy - who supposedly  got run out of his own country by violent and stupid coloured people - defend violent, stupid coloured people doing the same chit in other lands? Let us not mince words because that is what he is doing: we are all supposed to play by the rules and abide by the laws even though the ethnic trash flooding into our lands do not. I have little sympathy for the victims the Pastor is shedding tears for - I've just seen too much of them and their violence they inflict on any country stupid enough to open their doors to them and the double standards that Pete wants to apply to all this just don't wash with me.

The double standards are hallmarks of other stupid people too. I am supposed to get all outraged over something like this - and just shrug it off when these liberal mutts tear down historical statues like confederate monuments. Odds are it was some proggie liberal jew that did this vandalism too. Perhaps it's real and the press ISN'T lying - which means the game has escalated. Symbols are extremely important to people and when you attack them - you are a red hair away from attacking the people themselves.

The Z Man did a spectacular critique of these idiot morality plays over here. I'll just sit here, quietly stropping my bayonet as I sit amidst stacked ammo cans and sandbags - and eat popcorn and enjoy the show.

Have a good hump day, you guys. And don't take this the wrong way but I hope your day is long, boring - and peaceful.

He Probably Pissed Off The A10 Guys Too...

If so - it serves him right.

Plenty O Pigs

Every kid has his own favourite
fighter plane and this is mine.

I read some place that most of the fighter jets these days don't even carry guns - what's the point when the birds are so fast that they fly faster than the bullets and if ya miss your shot - your enemy is three countries over by the time you can bring your guns around to bear. It's all ballistic missiles, electronic counter measures, stealth and anti-missile missile technology now.

I have a soft spot for gun fighters.

Perks And Benefits Of The Job...

Monday, 18 March 2019


Well, looks like spring has a toe hold.


There's still a lot of snow around but the creeks have started to run again. Praise God - that was a long winter. Especially that last run of -30C. I've seen two motorcycles out today but that is just nuts. There's still ice everywhere and where it has melted it is all gravel and dust. The rocket pilots are coming out because there's some clear patches of road - so the cops are out nabbing them left right and centre too.

I have a short week coming up, we are taking a long weekend in to do some mud camping this weekend. It's our 34th wedding anniversary too and I am just shocked at that. Given the last 8 years I woulda thunk I'd be divorced and living in the chicken house out at Coopville or in one of the missile silos at Camp Borepatch ... but we are still married, and happily so.

I put some new tires on the Dogmobile today and not a minute too soon, the front driver's side was wearing away and nearly bald and cracking all the way round... so I got my money's worth out of them. I need to do some spring cleaning on my truck too - it's all dust and dawg hair inside, and smells like a dead fart inside the way an old man's truck tends to.

The back yard glaciers are receding and the dog chit is being exposed. I am going to see if I can fake my back injuries to fink out on the clean up, HAR HAR HAR!!! Okay... no I won't because one a you fags would probably snitch on me... and as far as the back goes... the chiroquack has been working overtime on my spine and things are beginning to loosen up a bit. I may actually clean it all up by myself this year! Yay!

I have had a hankering to get my bow out again. I have an old PSE Solo Cam from the Plasterscene Era when solo-cams were all the rage with the other neolithics and austrolapithicenes. Any of you guys bow benders? Remember how we used to shoot through paper to try and tune the arrowflight for bullet holes? And how solo cam bows were so great because they supposedly had level knock travel? There is every bit as much boojum and BS in archery as there is in fishin'! Today's bows don't even look like bows anymore and they are blazing fast. I don't care, I only shoot against the bum in the mirror now - and that thumb-fingered idiot is pretty easy to beat.

Spring is here, life is good. Hope things are heating up for you as well - and thanks for stopping by.

Filthie's Classical Brass Orchestra

The Rumours Of My Demise...

… greatly exaggerated.

Somebody better check on Jack though...

If We Were Talking About Banning White Underwear For Men...

… I might be able to forgive something like this. But I am sure we are probably talking about something stupid here like gun control, rape culture, or something equally female and coincidentally stupid.

Monday Again