Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

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

Monday, 29 April 2019

Posted Carefully Without Comment

Wonder if she's related to the Obamas?

Tea With The Queen

Tools Of The Trade

Whenever M gets into a troublesome project in the shop that is too big for him - he calls for me to save the day! Glen Filthie is ALWAYS prepared - for jobs big and small. The rest of you would be wise to emulate my example.

I've never been a fan of Irish whisky.
I will drink it (hell, I will drink whatever's in the jerry can) - 
but that triple distilled stuff just
doesn't do it for me.

Sunday, 28 April 2019

A Queen Delayed

Sunday Screaming Memies

Sunday Squabs

Ready For Summer Trails

Sunday Soul Search Post Operative Debriefing

When I was a kid I remember being gobsmacked by the reality that ran contrary to one of the most popular tropes of the left at the time: that the military is filled with the dregs, the incompetent, and the stupid. I started reading biographies of great men because my life at the time was going nowhere. Some were spectacular treats - Lee Iococca gave the lie to the idea that boardroom execs don't give a hoot about the working man and just sit around trying to figure out ways to hurt him or take advantage of him. Stormin'Norman was not the fink that fags like Alan Alda would have you believe. Influenced by men like that, I started to think for myself first by trying to think like they did... and the rotten wood and garbage inside my cranium started to smoulder.

One of the routine things that men like General Schwartzkopff and Lee Iococca did became standard operating procedure for me. Whenever I set out to do something, after it was done, whatever it was - I did a post mortem on it.

  • what happened?
  • what things went right?
  • what things went wrong?
  • why?
  • what can we take away from this?

It was something I had never done before, and it was an astounding revelation for me when I applied it myself. I found myself becoming incredibly focused (by my standards), and incredibly successful in a lot of the small things that I did and were important to me. But where my family was involved... I dunno what it was. Being objective and cold about your family wasn't something I could do. It was something that never seemed to come up in my dealings with them. Only this morning, have I sat down to actually do the post mortem:

  • What happened: my family disintegrated along cultural and political lines. Basically it is seen as all my fault by most of the parties concerned. I'd be tempted to take the credit or the blame, but I am not a complete idiot. I read, I think, and I see intelligent, accomplished and well spoken people that think as I do. Blame is not the object of this exercise anyway.
  • What went right: as long as we could agree on basic frameworks and foundations for morality... we managed to get along well, with an odd extended family of sorts in an age where the nuclear family was giving way to single parent families. I did it with in laws. Granted, they deserved credit for that too.
  • What went wrong? We lost respect for each other. When we disagreed, the name calling started and the contempt followed. Families can't hold in the midst of crap like that. Something had to give.
  • Why? Oh boy. Those first two, above - were easy. The truth is that many reasons surfaced. Ultimately I think they all boiled down to the idea that they wanted to live in a world of pretty lies, where I lived in a world with some seriously ugly truths. Also, I was inflexible. I would not seek the wisdom to accept the things I could not change, I sought to change the things I could not accept. And others took the same adversarial stance in return.
  • What can I learn from this: I am vapour locked. Obviously these elderly hippies, the creepy homosexuals, the greasy social justice warriors... they're here for a reason. I could be wrong, but I do not accept the notion that they are here to teach us to accept and love the sinner but reject the sin. I'm not sure if I believe in devils but if they exist and seek to tempt us into folly... I suspect that that is exactly an argument they would make. This is why so many of the few churches that remain are run by carpet baggers, degenerates, and fake rock stars. What am I supposed to be learning from that?

I *think* I may have part of the answer to some of this.

Being a social and intellectual celebrity, I run with some high brow people and I found myself over at Jack's where the other night, he mixed it up on Quora, gotten into a food fight with some marginal people, and was bent over a rail and made to bark like a pig! Don't feel bad, Jack, better men than us have struggled with this crap from these people and they lost too. You did pretty well, considering what you were up against. While you catch your breath and stitch yourself up - allow me to step into the ring and take some heat off ya. (Errr… don't put away the first aid kit).

Observation: People that utterly reject faith, and hate it with the heat of 1000 suns...often hate themselves too. Without faith and a soul they have a gaping hole in their being that needs to be filled with something. Anything is better than nothing. So they adopt post modern spiritual alternatives. They think that because they're new, they just have to be better than the faith and the foundations of their forefathers. And they go off the rails. They are so utterly lost they don't even realize it.

Why does our Maker let this happen? Big Jim at the wife's church put it this way: "If God went round adjusting the attitudes of the stupid, the sinful, and the perverted and meeting out punishment for their sins, what would he do to us? We are not perfect either. What would He do to us?

It may sound like a cop out, and maybe it is - but I think I took the wrong road. I wanted to change what I could not accept. By contrast, my Maker on the other hand, for whatever reason - is standing idly by, letting these people do to themselves (and often others) what they will in this world. Sure, He's there if they should develop an awareness of their sins and change... but if they don't, who knows. Perhaps He deals with them in the next world. That's above my pay grade.

 But I did learn this: Those people are not my problem. They are my Maker's problem, and He will deal with them as he sees fit. He utterly ignores them and their sins and leaves them to the consequences of their folly and perhaps that is what I need to do too. If our Maker were to come down here or send a messiah out among us, He would heal the queers and the marginals - he wouldn't necessarily bless them. Gays ARE victims but not the way they think they are - they are victims of themselves. Most gays deeply wish they were normal the same way lepers do. I think that gets lost in the social engineering and white washing and gas lighting. I suspect all these other angry, unhappy and marginal people would be helped too.

And I could be full a shit on all that. When we engage with those people only two things happen: we either submit to them or a fight starts. There is nothing to be gained from either option, and that is all I can say I learned at this point. Y'know... I was thinking about all this beside the brook while out on Dawg Patrol today... and fell out of my wool gathering to realize that the brook was exceptionally beautiful and peaceful today, and the morning is clear and blue... and I have things I need to get on with.

Let us stay peaceful and focused... and thanks for stopping by.


Friday, 26 April 2019

I Woke Up Dead This Morning

Lot a people talk about it and make some good rude jokes about 'waking up dead in the morning' - but I actually did it! I have witnesses!

This morning after a hard night's sleep I had to go down to the clinic and get bled and sampled for my yearly check up. Being a retard, I enjoy poking fun at the poor girls that have the misfortune of having to wait on me and draw my fluids. So when I went in this morning - I annoyed the living chit out of 4 women who tried to take my blood!

The first one jabbed me three times without hitting a vein. She gave up and called another one over and she did the same thing - no dice. The third came over - ditto! I yukked it up - "I'm a dead old fart! And I'm here to haunt you all for the horrible things you've done to your poor patients...! HAR HAR HAR!". That brought over the head nurse, who started jabbing at the meat between the knuckles of my hand - and she finally hit pay dirt ... and I finally got siphoned. I've heard of Texas wildcatters having better luck than those poor gals did! Long story short - I have train tracks on my arms just like a hardcore drug addict! HAR HAR HAR!!! I am now so fat they don't make needles long enough to reach through all the meat!  :)

So that was the high point of my day. Suppose we better get serious about shutting this idiot week down eh? I think it was WC who had ran a great post on his blog entitled "Friday Night Niggas" and because I am not feeling all that ambitious tonight - it's a good enough theme to follow for me too.

First up, we have the incomparable Harold Belafonte:

Johnny Fever on WKRP once threatened to do a better version of this tune:
"Daylight come and I wanna throw up...!"
That was back before we all invented the hate crime of cultural appropriation.

Wait a minute - this singer's white! Oh well, the didgereedoo is aboriginal so there's that.
Reminds me of the drunken rugby version of this toon:
"Toss yer spunk in skunk boys, toss yer spunk in skunk! Toss yer spunk in skunk boys
toss yer spunk in skunk! F*** a wallabee!!!"
And f*** the Collingwood Magpies too, for that matter!

Now we're back on track - as vibrant and culturally enriched as can be!
I'd advise caution with this old world advice.
These days ugly women are usually uglier inside if ya catch my drift!

Welp, the wife is off for the weekend and me and the dawgs have the place to ourselves. She's been gone for all of 8 hours and we are already going to pot! Might as well wrap up this racially insensitive post with another inappropriate rude joke!

The ol' nickel holds: ask a stupid question...

Y'all have yourselves a great night - and thanks for stopping by.

Thursday, 25 April 2019

Mopping Up

"HAH!!!", the barkeep laughed, "What'd I tell ya? They'd be done inside a year!! That's what I said!"

I sat nursing my beer, trying to ignore the bar keep and the boisterous crowd behind me. I had a picture of my late wife up on the bar beside my beer. It's all I had left of her, and it made me feel better having the thing there to keep me company at a time like this. It also made for good camouflage. Up on the TV though, I could see that they were right. It was all over.

On the large screen TV the A10's rolled in and seemed to hang in the air for a couple seconds as they lined up on their target. The missiles flared under their wings and streaked on their way ... and the warthogs rolled out. It was as simple as that. The church was hit multiple times and the crowd roared with approval. The ecstatic newscaster's lips where flapping at 100 MPH too.

"... and that is the last of militants in this area, according to the authorities that are in the final stages of the state mop-up. The armed terrorists that made their last stand in this church are a collection of deplorable haters from domestic terror groups such as the so-called Three Percent, the NRA, non-aligned gun criminals, and racist Christian extremists..." I just blocked it out. I could only take so much.

The barkeep barked in a suspicious tone, "Whatsamatter, Gramps? Ya not enjoying seeing all those Hate State sonsabitches going to their just rewards?" I blinked and gawped, startled out of my reverie. Good thing I'd rehearsed for this or he'd have had the best of me. "Naw, sorry son, I just lost my boy and wife in this little dust up, is all. It's a cold comfort when the battle's won, but your loved ones are still gone..." The few overhearing the exchange went back to the TV, and the barkeep's tone and expression softened. "Oh hey man - look, I'm sorry. It's just that there's so many of those fascist red necked fuckers and evangelical bible thumping zealots around that you don't know who.s who anymore. My bad, I shouldn't have mistaken you for one. Here - your beer's on the house."

I nodded my thanks, but my heart wasn't here anymore. If it ever was. I pushed the beer away, pocketed the small picture of the wife that I'd bought - and bade farewell to the barkeep. Behind me the crowd continued to celebrate this latest victory in the second American civil war. As I ambled out into the clear night air I wondered what my Christian wife would have thought of them. And of me. I prayed that she and God would have mercy on my soul.

I was almost at the corner when the bomb went off. The shockwave overtook us pedestrians and riffled the hair of a pretty lady a dozen steps away from me. The woman stopped and began to scream. Screams of agony and pain started from inside the demolished bar where I had sat only minutes ago.

I lowered my head, pulled up my collar, and shuffled off into the night, trying to lose myself in memories of better times -  and better people.

A Cabin Between A Rock And A Hard Place

Even has a wind farm in the back ground. Based on what I know of the little ones, those things have to be an even bigger scam than solar.


Canada Geese Are Back

I personally don't care for them. They're noisy, disagreeable and they geese!  Over by the pond they lay it down so thick I've seen the kids slipping and sliding on their bikes as they run over the faeces that have the consistency of pudding - and it's all over the sidewalks. And bloody Macey - I give her hell for it every time and the odd swat but she doesn't care - she eats that stuff! GAH!!! And then she wants to give people a big sloppy kiss afterward!

There's too many of them and they seriously need to raise the bag limits and cut the numbers down a bit. That's really odd because when I was a boy - I couldn't get a shot off at Canadas for love or money, there just weren't that many around. Now, they are all over the urban ponds, golf courses - you name it

It just HAS to be warble gloaming!!!

Not A Fan

Via Sal The Agorist

Yannow ol' Sal is poetry in motion when he turns his scathing wit and humour on the pompous, the entitled, the corrupt... The problem is he sometimes cuts and rips on the good ones too, as he does here
Chris Kyle had his problems like we all do, and for my two bits, if I am to judge him from my lofty seat here in the Peanut Gallery - I 'd say he lived and died well in spite of them.

Wednesday, 24 April 2019

Knife Porn

Hmmmmm. A double edged knife? Perfect for jobs like fighting
and engizzardment I suppose, but I'd much prefer a false edge on top.

That's a boutique knife from a designer fella that is fairly artistic. This one here probly goes for a couple hundred bucks.

The hell of it is, if you're a knife snob with a blade fetish like me, it's hard to see these things as simple tools. But in the real world, where the metal hits the meat - the best bang for the buck is the Mora knife. You can get 'em for about $25.00 apiece and they're excellent tools.

I have three of them so far and there's a lot to be said for them. I guess these things are made in Sweden or Switzerland or some Scandihoovian country. They strop up like razors, and if you loan it to some bum and he loses it - you will still be bummed because it is easy to get attached to these cheapos too - but you won't be out a pile of money.

Tuesday, 23 April 2019

Glen Filthie: Lady Killer

The Warmth Of Wood

In my next life I am going to go back to the traditional gear. Archery purists look down their noses with scorn and contempt for guys like me that shoot bows with training wheels on them... and when I see the beauty of their weapons and the skill with which they use them... I can see where that comes from.


The 45-70 is a tough cartridge to love. I had a Marlin guide gun in 45-70 and that little bugger, stoked up with the hot loads - developed enough recoil to kill on both ends. Make no mistake, those guns are short range, serious-business-only propositions. Those little lever guns won't be something you play with at the range.

By contrast, my current ride, a Remington rolling block buffalo gun repro - is an absolute sweetheart with most loads... but it weighs a ton! I might go back to smokeless with it because I am ripping my hair out by the roots trying to get that SOB to shoot with black powder. My bullet casting skills are over on the low end too.

The 45-70 isn't exactly an expert's gun (although it can be) ... but it is a poor choice for the casual or new shooter.

They Hate Us

It seems to be an awakening going on. People are clueing into the idea that our leaders hate us. It's so bad that people are tuning out of the mass media altogether and I don't blame them. Our media speaks for our leadership (if nobody else) - and they delight in pushing the dagger into our backs and twisting it for all they're worth.

For those of you unfamiliar with Omar Khadr - he's the shit skinned vibrant that tossed a grenade that blinded one of the squaddies that captured him, and there's pictures of him running around in Afbagistan with a stringer of human hands on it. Real nice moslem kid, actually - so, not knowing what to do with him they chucked him in Gitmo. The lawyers got involved, and after they finished up, li'l Omar ended up with 10 million dollars from the lawsuits, a citizenship, and celebrity status in Canada. What else are ya gonna do other than invite a guy like him onto a Canadian Easter special, right?

One is tempted to shut it, lest he say something he shouldn't and get himself in trouble. It's easy to get dispirited. But - don't let these guys get into your head. The 2016 US election went seriously wrong for those guys when Hillary got kicked to the curb. Here in Alberta, the same thing happened in our provincial elections when Rachael Notely got crushed in the election despite a massive campaign blitz in the ever friendly media. Right now it looks like our idiot of a prime minister - Turdo La Doo - is on his way to the crapper for a good flush too. We need to remember that we're smart and resourceful, whereas those arrayed against us are done the second the lights go out. Reality is going to re-assert itself and when it does, a LOT of stupid people will get what they have coming. The pendulum has already started to swing against these shits.

Keep your chin up! That's an order! And, as the old nickel goes, the beatings will continue until morale improves!

Hope ya had a great Tuesday.

Sunday, 21 April 2019

The Watermelon Men

Monday, Methinks...

Happy Easter

I'm 54 and this is probably my first Easter where I had some sort of idea of the implications of the holiday. As a tyke, easter was about chocolate easter eggs and baskets and vomiting into the bushes and sugar crashes. When I got older it was about long weekends and visiting with the family. Families always grew in those days whereas now, for me and those in my circle, they just crumbled away. For most of them it's just another day and Easter is an old memory.

I had a miracle of sorts of my own the other day. I've been sicker than a dawg with a cold n' flu and now it's in my lungs... but the other day I went out to drag my arse out on dawg patrol... and there was NO back pain. I mean NONE.  I've had this happen before but never to this extent. We went all the way around the dawg walk without stopping once. Yesterday I expected to wake up with the pain again but it was nowhere to be seen. We did the dawg walk again and I could have danced a jig afterward! It was like getting out of jail. So I sat down, had a bite to eat, and then loaded the dawgs up again - they were ecstatic - and we did some rural deployment work down by the river.

Macey clears and secures the river bank

Mort finds a landmine.
The last of the winter ice is piling up on the 
riverbanks and is finally melting away.

We had a friendly fire incident which I attribute to poor training and discipline: Mort (the white one) lifted his leg on a bush and Macey (the brown one) decided to push past him and got herself between him and the bush. That fuggin idiot just smiled as he pished along the entire length of his girlfriend and soaked her to the skin! Ordinarily I would have laughed too but Macey is old and blind and half  stupid and I have to lift her in and out of the Dawgmobile! She's not a small dog, to lift her, you gotta hold her close. Good work, team! I couldn't get too mad - at her age, any time now with her is a gift. I think my Maker's gonna be calling His best dog home soon, if ya catch my drift.

But I was STILL full of piss and vinegar! And this with a head busting cold!  After that we went out to the country and did a long walk. By the time we got back I was still in good trim... but Macey was just done. She can't walk like she used too and I just let her lay down by the truck and recover.  I remember when we used to run 10 clicks and think nothing of it. We did maybe 6 or 7 today at a slow pace with plenty of stops to smell and dawdle... and it was a big day for both of 'em.

They're bushed, but happy.

After that I went out to King Peter's farm where we put up an improvised archery range and shot till our arms fell off. Maybe it was just all a big coincidence and I am imagining it, or maybe Somebody decided to give us a break and let us have a few days off without the pain - either way I will take and smile. Please lord - let my back continue to hold!

Thanks for stopping by, and have a good Easter.

Friday, 19 April 2019

Tails Of Horror From The Filthie Hinterland...

The Original Night Fighter

I think that is the German Vampire system, and if I recall it required a 60 lb. lead acid battery to power the night sight - and it didn't run long.

The latest and greatest night vision equipment I saw for the tactical ninjas had four cameras strapped to their helmets now. Foot soldiers. With heads up displays.

What next?

Don't Mix Benilyn DM and Scotch

Or ya wake up like this!
Or maybe wearing crocs caused it...?

When We Were Kings

An Invitation To A Good Friday Food Fight

While I've been down and out, a tempest in teapot flared up right here in Aaaaaaadmontin that is drawing international attention and derisive laughter. Accept THIS, you bigoted homophobic knuckle dragging Neanderthals!!!  Go read it, because you will need to understand it if you want to take my invitation to this food fight. I will wait.

Oh no! No, no no no no.... go back and read it ALL! You only skimmed it and quit half way through! No cheating!!!!

It takes a force of will to sit down and wade through stuff like that and see it for what it is. When most people think of the gender conflicted they sanitize the concept and refuse to think of it in its entirety and reality. That's a form of intellectual cheatery too! Imagine it was you, yourself that had to sit down and try and reason with people that think like that. You can't disagree with them either - that would be hateful and hurtful!

All that brings me to this: is it possible to accept the sinner and reject the sin? How can we possibly accept all this? I've lost count of all the different -phobes I am now! At some point this has to stop...

If you are not of the faith - how about this: is it reasonable to be accepting and tolerant of lunatics?

Have a Good Friday and thanks for stopping by.

Thursday, 18 April 2019

Fuggin Harley Guys Again...!

I wonder about that. Some men feel the need to leave some mark behind to prove they were here and will go to obscene lengths to leave that mark. When I die I would obviously like it to be clean... but my heart goes to the winds and my soul goes to my Maker. If I am forgotten I have no problem in the world with it whatsoever.

Errrr… on that note, don't anyone let Quartermain or Jack desecrate my corpse...

A Rude Bible Joke

Thursday Mish Mash

I have been caught betwixt two worlds this last week, coked to the gills on Benilyn DM, and disgusting candies like Halls. I get deep drowsy sleeps at night but no dreams at all... and wake up tired.

Some of you may have heard we had our election. About 4 and some years ago I was a senior marketing guy doing industrial tool sales up in the Fort Mac mega projects. You didn't just show up on those sites, you had to be cleared before hand, go through security, and be escorted in. My escort one day was a big fat fuggin commie with a ropey mouth and turd for brains. I remember him beaking off about how Rachael Notely of the NDP party was going to finally pry some money out of the robber barons of Big Oil - and give it all to guys like him and me and we'd all have more money than what we knew what to do with. I was in Sales Mode so I zipped my lip and let him run. A couple weeks later Rachael was in power and naturally started prattling about carbon taxes and environMINT regulations for the oilfield - and 700 guys got their pink slips before she even had a chance to get stupid with any of it. I hope that fat tard that drove me around was one of them, HAR HAR HAR! Then, one after another, the projects got cancelled. A couple years later the province started emptying out and I lost my job too. To be fair, it wasn't all Rachael's doing; and as moonbats go - she wasn't nearly as retarded as some. But you can't do business like that. The message from the oil companies was - 'Give us a shout when you grow up, Alberta!'

Today I find myself the arrogant fat slob, isolated in a workplace filled with environmentalists, pakies and vibrants and gender conflicted co-workers. And they all hated Alberta's UCP Party with a passion. Jason Kenney was a racist, a homophobe, and a bible thumping moron! And the idiots that vote for him do so because their idiot parents and grandparents did the same! Rachael was supposedly trailing by only 8% in the official polls until she got demolished on Tuesday. The guy I voted for won - and I will probably find myself out of a job because solar is largely an artificial economy predicated on gubbimint hand outs and subsidies.

We are not going to vote our way out of what's coming. Now we have to pay for all the free shit that Rachael handed out... but at least we've relieved the children of the credit cards. Tougher times are ahead as the nation's slackers try and stick the workers for their bills... but so be it. I believe in real social justice: if you don't work and do something useful... you SHOULD go without - that is fair all the way around.

I've heard good things about Jason Kenney so I guess we'll see. It's not like he can do any worse than the last clown that had the job. We have some big fights ahead of us... but for now, at least, it looks like we may have good people on the job.

Wish us luck, and thanks for stopping by.

Wednesday, 17 April 2019

Walking Dead


OMFG - I've been dogged by colds trying to take me down for over a month, and finally the microbes broke through my defenses and I am sick as a dawg. I got sent home yesterday to sleep it off, and I am a bit better today. For now, some rude jokes to keep the blog open - have a great hump day and as always, thanks for stopping by.

Sunday, 14 April 2019

Digital Encrapulation: A Tool Of Limited Usefulness


In these days when telling the truth is literally a hate crime, a fella has to watch what he says and where he says it. I think all that one above is, is a simple conversion of actual text to whatever the current machine language is.

Some of the guys are getting completely unhinged about Twatter and Facebook, and having their posts censored by obese she-twinks with blue hair, nose jewelry, and a hate for men and conservatives in general. Or worse yet - algorithms. To me the answer is simple - just leave.

But others want to fight, and have proposed encrypted messages to defeat the social justice warriors. To me that one is a no-brainer - if those finks see an encrypted message they will just assume it is something politically incorrect and delete it. Whatever.

But, if you want to send a message that might pass under eyes of someone you'd rather not share it with - a casual encryption exists.

And interesting little toy, that in the wrong hands... could be used to annoy the right people!  :)

Arse Draggin...

My wife brought home a cold and a flu last weekend and I held out pretty good … but now I have it too. It's one of those buggers where ya lay down and then think you should get up... and when you do your head swims and you just want to lie down again. Fah! Jeez I have been doing a lot of whining this week.

Spring is here, the snow is giving way to mud, and even the bugs are out.

Yesterday I dragged myself out and was shooting in my shirtsleeves and it was cool but comfortable. I have been reading on some of the Yank blogs that they are getting slammed with the last winter snows right now.

Back in my youth my approach to archery was to take any reasonable, conservative bow/arrow set up - tune it and then shoot and shoot and shoot until I had all the bugs worked out. The best set up for me became the one I had. King Peter has decreed otherwise this year: he wants us shooting optimized rigs where the choice of arrowshaft, fletch, and warhead are all the result of extensive testing. He even gave me shit about my field points - I have to try different weights and different shafts and see which are more accurate, and which penetrate further. It's all just so much turd polishing and sausage grinding - in order to evaluate that stuff you need a flawless form and I am nowhere near that. The penetration tests are inconclusive, the heavier arrows don't seem to go further in than the light ones. The King will be furious when he finds out.

We are even fighting about warheads. King Peter favours the more traditional two blade designs like this little sweetheart from Bone Broadheads. Another favourite of his are the tough as hell Kudu warheads.

I've always run the fixed 3 blade designs like those made by Thunderhead - I don't know if they even make Thunderheads anymore, it was 25 years ago when such things mattered. These days I will shoot whatever we end up with and could care less.

I am not going to take this bloody cold to church today, some of the old folks are mighty frail ... and although I'd love to go fling more arrows... my butt is just draggin today. I think I'll just pile up and catch up on my OyTubes. A hundred years ago, if I was sick or hung over on Sunday I'd just recover in front of the TV and watch those stupid outdoor shows that only appeal to old buggers that remember their days afield in their youth. Michael and Esme do the honours today - and put the Argo to the test.

Good heavens - I need to get out and camp.

Have a great Sunday you guys.

Saturday, 13 April 2019

Into The Mouth Of The Cat

My cats were just brutal with mice. They'd slowly torture them to death all day if they could, but often the dawg would come along and glub them up and spoiled their fun. Those little mice often died like champs too, squeaking with defiance and trying to bite as the cat swatted them about. It'd be like us doing the same thing to Rottweillers or German shepherds.

I've seen cats that get along with small animals too. I used to buy my bantam chickens from a lady who had a barn full of the cluckers with chicks... and the cats were right in there with them and left th chicks alone.

Something Here From Somewhere Else

Hello everyone. I am just pished at the world today!

Some fuggin retard here at Uncle Bob's Institute For Wayward Boys - has built an interdimensional metaversal portal - and nothing but oddities from parallel universes have been spewing out of it since. Occasionally we get beauties like these.  The other day some of those little grey alien bastids with the big eyes came tumbling out and we all got abducted and anally probed! This morning some tentacles with suckers on them reached through and grabbed Pete - and pulled him back to the other side! I got so damned fed up - called up Camp Borepatch and told them to bring their guns and heavy metal and go clean up whatever's on the other side, and put a stop to this nonsense!

So BP showed up with the Harley and the guns - and he hit that dimensional intersect at 88 MPH on the button with the guns blazing and I figured he'd come chugging back the other way with the mission accomplished in fairly short order.

We got the bike back, but BP and Pete are sboth over there now.
What happened on the other side? Did he get kilt by the Skittle People? Or did he hit a rainbow?
This is what happens when ya send boys to do a man's job I guess.

This time we'll do it right! The gin swilling adventurer and explorer -W.L. Emery - is en route with Maxim machine guns, porters, and safari equipment. Jack will be carrying a short Thompson submachine gun with a 50 round drum because he will be also carrying the expedition's bourbon and tobacco. Quartermain will be keeping track of our position with his Fisher Price walkie talkies and GPS. The rest a yas are welcome go come along if ya want - just be careful with the hand grenades.

Wish us luck everyone! We should be back by lunch time! Hope you have some good plans for the weekend.

Pleeeeeeese Don't Shoot My Dogs, Emma...

Friday, 12 April 2019

Filthie Gets Fingered

Clown world is run by women. Liberal women. The kind of women that consider themselves powerful and assertive, but are more often than not - bitchy and spoiled. Our families are very liberal, and our matriarchs were very assertive. All my life I chafed at their bullshit but went along to get along. 

When my daughter came out of the closet and announced that she was a lesbian social justice warrior and a gay artiste - and that she and her creepy girlfriend would be telling me what I could say and think from here on out - the women in our families all formed up and locked shields and made it plain that if I had a problem with it, they were ready to fight about it.

I just vapour locked, stuck somewhere between rage and despair. All these idiots that think there is nothing wrong with daughters being queers and not growing up really need to give their heads a shake. What kind of father would you be if you enabled and encouraged that in your kids? The world doesn't need fathers anymore, I was informed... and if I didn't like it I could take my bigoted homophobic arse and go pound sand. This is very old, very dirty water that ran under a bridge that burned to cinders and collapsed long ago. I shan't waste more electrons going over it.

Years passed and I got my heart back together in one piece - and determined that I had no place around those that broke it. But last weekend, while out on my first spring shake down cruise on my big road bike... I happened to pass by my parents. I think they have a new dog. My mother glared at me as I passed. Pop looked frail and he was broken hearted. I am my father's son, and I've seen that look in the mirror often enough. I gave them a sad half smile and a nod and kept going. I just about hit a parked car as I watched them in the rear view. I would love to sit down one more time in this life, drink coffee and swap some rude jokes with the old man, maybe argue about lawn mowers or trucks or dogs or something stupid like that. But his wife has her politics and her narrative and she'll run her mouth and destroy her family with it rather than let a couple old farts have their peace. I accept it and until I passed by them last weekend - thought I was good with it. I am getting old and stupid but as I do I find a peaceful, lethargic apathy setting up around me and seeing the old folks shook me right out of it. The experience left me conflicted bummed right out.

I learned today that my daughter married her girlfriend a couple weeks back. Apparently the ceremony was perfectly queer. My daughter wore the dress, and her love partner wore a suit. I vapour locked again: how can any father sit by and watch his daughter do something like that and approve and smile and pretend there is nothing wrong with it? I am thankful I was not invited for I would have had to decline. I sit here and wonder what the stag party for something like that would look like... and on second thought, I'd rather not know. I wonder if they had their beautiful little ceremony on the same date our anniversary is? LOL - it would be just like my daughter to pull something like that. I know I should feel something but there's nothing left anymore... just echoes. 

Maybe the warrior poet, TB - is right and a fella should just drop out of that world and let it burn. I am kinda-sorta there and I get what he's saying. But I am a father and a son still - on some fractured level. When something hurts me I tend to keep an eye on it for no other reason than to make sure it doesn't sneak up on me and hurt me again. But then I am reminded that in order to get hurt, you have to have some part of yourself in the game and I just don't anymore.

Our worlds diverge. Have a great Friday. If you have kids - hold them close.

Thursday, 11 April 2019

Thursday Screaming Meemies

I seem to be on a serious roll downhill tonight. Unlike stupid buggers, pooh jokes never get old.