It’s getting harder.
In the US, the Yanks have Nancy Pelosi and the Donks turning the formal impeachment process into a comedy act. Trump whips those morons into a frenzy with every idle quip on Twatter. Here in Canada, our idiot whoreson of a Prime Minister... Turdo La Doo - capers for the camera in pink socks to curry favour with feminist rage heads, and prances with the degenerates at gay pride parades. He does that while the west sinks further into recession. I’m predicting foreclosures and suicides for Alberta as people pack up and walk away from mortgages they can no longer afford. It was the same way when his father was PM forty years ago.
It’s getting harder to pretend that all is well and “it will all work out”. It’s easy to watch this stuff and smirk, munching on popcorn as the music plays and the monkeys dance. It’s cheap entertainment, right? If you take it seriously it’ll drive ya up the friggin wall.
The problem comes when this shit gets into our families. I laughed at my in-laws who were the most virtuous of environMINTalists. Turn off the lights! Recycle the garbage!!! Save the planet!!!!! Global warming!!!! These people had a 2000 sq.ft. home with a triple car garage and would literally chit themselves in rage if I threw a pop can in the garbage. I could throw all my cans in the garbage and still leave a carbon footprint smaller than theirs! Any kid can do a basic web search and see that global warming is a pant load. At the very least, the theories it’s based on are deeply flawed. But not my in-laws. Those morons vote, too. And....they want to dictate our morality too. When my daughter came home from school and announced that she was now a noble lesbian social justice warrior and that we all had to fall to our knees and kiss her ass - they tripped over themselves to do it. When I refused I was exiled. About a year later, my oh-so-virtuous progtard brother in law had had enough of his oh-so-edgy feminist wife and gave her and the kids the punt. I am torn: part of me wishes I could have been there to watch that simian drama, and part of me was thankful I wasn’t! HAR HAR HARππ They regard single mothers as heroic. They’ll get their noses rubbed in that too, I suppose. All these narratives and causes of the lefty liberals are fraught with dishonesty and corruption but as long as certain people get theirs, and others can pose as being edgy and trendy... the dancing monkey act goes on. Until it falls apart.
People look at the crap and lunacy going on in Ottawa and Washington and naively think it’s going to stay there. I say that if that same nuttery hasn’t found its way into your family yet... it soon will. The vectors will be the women and kids, methinks. Our public education system is dominated by flawed liberal women and they are radicalizing the kids. Just look at Greta The Magic Retard. Not only do these cretins want to live in their own narrative, they want to impose it on you and make you pay for it.
I see interesting times ahead this year. All I want for the new year is maybe a full or part time job, with more time spent with the dawgs, the wife, and my toys. I want to finish my first pass through the bible and maybe dabble in the associated archaeology. I want to go on losing weight. I used to hope that something would break and we could patch our family up... but it ain’t gonna happen in this life time. I managed to finally accept that last year; but this year...I need to decide how to go forward. I have no idea what that will look like.
I wish you all a drama free New Year. May God bless you and yours, and thanks for stopping by.
Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude
Where Great Intelligence Goes To Be Insulted
Tuesday, 31 December 2019
Monday, 30 December 2019
I Dunno About That....
Why Older White Men Should Start Second Families
My family imploded about four or five years ago. It wasn't a divorce - but easily could have been, had I married a lesser woman and the chips had fallen a different way. It was the usual shit that goes along with a dysfunctional family and this beshitted culture war. About the only thing unusual was that my marriage survived and actually became stronger, and I didn't get raped in divorce court - which is what the shitlibs in my family had in mind for me. I think my wife didn't fancy becoming a saggy old cougar that drank chardonnay by the box, or a bitter single cat lady either. Unlike the poseurs today, my wife was always a strong and intensely practical woman.
HAR HAR HAR! I can't remember where we were. Might have been in traffic, might have been out camping. I said to my wife, outta the blue "We should have another kid. They're fun to make, they're expendable, and the last one we had was a complete write-off..." I said. I think I was as stunned as my wife at the utter novelty and stupidity of the concept. Of course, we are too old, and to be honest, after the last one.... no. Just... no. I think we both wanted to rinse our brains out with bleach after I did that!
ππ
But for some perverted reason the idea got traction in my subconscious. I think about it. I see a kid raised right, away from my own pozzed inlaws and family. He'd grow up right. He'd know his way around a bible and even if he didn't believe, that'd by alright because he'd be able to see the wisdom and practical values in it, if nothing else. In time, he'd marry a good solid woman of his own, like his mother. He'd have kids of his own. Camping. Hunting, fishing... I'd have somebody to hand my guns off to before I kick off. My wife would have little ones to do arts n' crafts with and she could be a grandmother.
Then reality hits with the jarring impact of a rolling pin or fry pan across the noggin. It's a dream, is all it is. The problems of the past will have to stay there, as they won't be answered or resolved in this world.
Maybe in the next life.
My family imploded about four or five years ago. It wasn't a divorce - but easily could have been, had I married a lesser woman and the chips had fallen a different way. It was the usual shit that goes along with a dysfunctional family and this beshitted culture war. About the only thing unusual was that my marriage survived and actually became stronger, and I didn't get raped in divorce court - which is what the shitlibs in my family had in mind for me. I think my wife didn't fancy becoming a saggy old cougar that drank chardonnay by the box, or a bitter single cat lady either. Unlike the poseurs today, my wife was always a strong and intensely practical woman.
HAR HAR HAR! I can't remember where we were. Might have been in traffic, might have been out camping. I said to my wife, outta the blue "We should have another kid. They're fun to make, they're expendable, and the last one we had was a complete write-off..." I said. I think I was as stunned as my wife at the utter novelty and stupidity of the concept. Of course, we are too old, and to be honest, after the last one.... no. Just... no. I think we both wanted to rinse our brains out with bleach after I did that!
ππ
But for some perverted reason the idea got traction in my subconscious. I think about it. I see a kid raised right, away from my own pozzed inlaws and family. He'd grow up right. He'd know his way around a bible and even if he didn't believe, that'd by alright because he'd be able to see the wisdom and practical values in it, if nothing else. In time, he'd marry a good solid woman of his own, like his mother. He'd have kids of his own. Camping. Hunting, fishing... I'd have somebody to hand my guns off to before I kick off. My wife would have little ones to do arts n' crafts with and she could be a grandmother.
Then reality hits with the jarring impact of a rolling pin or fry pan across the noggin. It's a dream, is all it is. The problems of the past will have to stay there, as they won't be answered or resolved in this world.
Maybe in the next life.
Sunday, 29 December 2019
An Oversight Corrected: Up He Goes
Guys I'm sorry. I thought I'd taken care of this long ago. But ya get old, yer mind floats a little further down the gutter... and things go to hell - which is a constant and nominal state of affairs here at the Thunderbox.
HARRUMPPFPFPFPFFFF!!!!
Well then, if you live under a rock as I do, and can't be trusted in the vicinity of respectable society - you may not have run into Phil before. He's got Tourette's as I do, but he doesn't rage at clouds and imaginary villains as I do. His is a working Man Cave and could be considered to be a serious shop. As you'd expect from such men, he has an admirable clarity of thought and sense of humour as well.
All hail Phil - and his Mighty Machines!
HARRUMPPFPFPFPFFFF!!!!
Well then, if you live under a rock as I do, and can't be trusted in the vicinity of respectable society - you may not have run into Phil before. He's got Tourette's as I do, but he doesn't rage at clouds and imaginary villains as I do. His is a working Man Cave and could be considered to be a serious shop. As you'd expect from such men, he has an admirable clarity of thought and sense of humour as well.
All hail Phil - and his Mighty Machines!
Saturday, 28 December 2019
Gun Porn
I’ve always wanted a Swiss K31 but never bought one.
I’ve seen these things but the boots to the Mausers, Springfields and Garands.
You don’t put high cost, high precision sights
on a mere milsurp beater...
I have no idea what that is.
It has to be a gag or a movie prop? Look, I can see a bored machinist and
design guy getting together and birthing a ballistic abortion
like a bull pup pistol.
But that mag? You’d never get a proper grip on it...
I am not getting the air gun industry. Or the Euros...
their guns these days are designed by faggots to impress other faggots.
Take this one: furniture grade wood. Precision metal work.
Super tight tolerances and superb fit and finish.
With a Valu-Village optic.
The Golden Showe... The Golden RULE
I gotta stop hanging out with the wanks on Gab.
I am firmly convinced their is no real fair way to legislate this kind of stuff. So-called 'hate law' is even worse than libertarian ideas bout rights and freedoms. At some point, if we are going to have to live together without raising black flags and slitting throats - some self control and restraint is going to be necessary.
Friday, 27 December 2019
2019
Folks... she was a real roller coaster this year. A lot of the “life happens” kind of stuff. I quit a soul sucking job and took some serious time off and really enjoyed myself. I did a little road trip on the bike. I played and played at the range, sometimes for a couple days at a time. Gawd, I needed that!
My Maker seems to make more sense to me as my biblical studies progress. There’s school kids that know more about God and the bible than I do. Growing up in a liberal family as I did, I always discarded the Christians as stupid rubes, and the faith as superstitious road apples. I think I shall enjoy getting into biblical archaeology and history too - I was fascinated to learn that the ancient Romans kept very accurate records. Some of them mention Jesus Christ by name and all the headaches He was causing local Roman leaders in the area. Others were about the apostles. If nothing else, we know that these guys really existed. To still hear their voices across this space of time is, by itself, is a miracle and worth the effort the faith requires - at least for me. Abandoning our faith was one of the worst mistakes we have made in western civilization. Without a foundation no real morality is possible and we are seeing that now in clown world.
I got a dirty report card from my doctor and lost some weight. More needs to come off, and I need to exercise more. My wife continues to be my rock and I love her more with each passing year. My dawgs give me someone to prattle at and love, and our home is a good one.
I think I finally might have “found myself.” My wife and I come from progressive liberal families. As anyone with eyes can see... life is really tough for those people right now. They’ve decided that truth is relative as is morality... and now most of them are very unhappy people as a result. They make those around them unhappy too. I’ve been so angry and hurt by their shenanigans and taking it personally, that letting go of old baggage ... for the longest time I couldn’t do it. At the age of 55, for the first time in my life... I truly became a master of my destiny and captain of my soul. Hard to starboard, Filthie! Against all sanity and common sense, my family has chosen their paths and I can’t follow... all I see for them is rocks and shoals. As for me... I’m looking at the horizon. All I know is that the earth is not flat, and my path is to see what lies beyond my horizons now.
Ladies and gentlemen - thank you so much for taking the time to stop by. If you haven’t found your path yet... that’s okay! Feel free to share mine until you figure yours out, if you’re so inclined. I dunno where I’m going either, but the sails are full, and we’re making good speed! ππ
Thanks again, and all the best to you and yours in 2020.
My Maker seems to make more sense to me as my biblical studies progress. There’s school kids that know more about God and the bible than I do. Growing up in a liberal family as I did, I always discarded the Christians as stupid rubes, and the faith as superstitious road apples. I think I shall enjoy getting into biblical archaeology and history too - I was fascinated to learn that the ancient Romans kept very accurate records. Some of them mention Jesus Christ by name and all the headaches He was causing local Roman leaders in the area. Others were about the apostles. If nothing else, we know that these guys really existed. To still hear their voices across this space of time is, by itself, is a miracle and worth the effort the faith requires - at least for me. Abandoning our faith was one of the worst mistakes we have made in western civilization. Without a foundation no real morality is possible and we are seeing that now in clown world.
I got a dirty report card from my doctor and lost some weight. More needs to come off, and I need to exercise more. My wife continues to be my rock and I love her more with each passing year. My dawgs give me someone to prattle at and love, and our home is a good one.
I think I finally might have “found myself.” My wife and I come from progressive liberal families. As anyone with eyes can see... life is really tough for those people right now. They’ve decided that truth is relative as is morality... and now most of them are very unhappy people as a result. They make those around them unhappy too. I’ve been so angry and hurt by their shenanigans and taking it personally, that letting go of old baggage ... for the longest time I couldn’t do it. At the age of 55, for the first time in my life... I truly became a master of my destiny and captain of my soul. Hard to starboard, Filthie! Against all sanity and common sense, my family has chosen their paths and I can’t follow... all I see for them is rocks and shoals. As for me... I’m looking at the horizon. All I know is that the earth is not flat, and my path is to see what lies beyond my horizons now.
Ladies and gentlemen - thank you so much for taking the time to stop by. If you haven’t found your path yet... that’s okay! Feel free to share mine until you figure yours out, if you’re so inclined. I dunno where I’m going either, but the sails are full, and we’re making good speed! ππ
Thanks again, and all the best to you and yours in 2020.
Thursday, 26 December 2019
Merry Kwanzaa
I'm not sure what to make of Kwanzaa. I think I remember reading that it was a fake holiday invented by some black activist and shit-disturber, for negroes not happy with the idea of a 'white' Christmas. I think they scheduled it for the day after Christmas too.
That's some mighty fine Kazoo work at
the beginning
-------------------------------------
Twas the night before Kwanzaa and all through the cribs
Not a nigga was stirring or begging for gibs
The nikes were out on the fire escape stairs
In hopes the fat honky
Would bring a new pair….
-via Gab
The Z Man and the wanks at Gab were hard at it yesterday. I guess Baltimore Lagos is only a few bodies away from setting a new record for violent homocides. The boys were all yukking it up, wishing the African Americans the best of luck with that, saying they only have a mere couple of days to work with - and what a shame it'd be if they fell short on the body count. I HAR HAR HAR'd along with the rest of them too. In this day and age it's getting harder and harder to feel sorry for vibrants given all the trouble they cause and the special treatment they get. Arseholes.
How does one reconcile race realities with Christianity? We've seen the stats: close to 40% of negroes are too stupid to hold a mundane job. The military will wash out recruits with IQ's lower than 93; at that point, baby sitting the recruit will be a tactical liability as they are too stupid to follow simple instructions. The average black IQ is 85.
We have a few of them at the wife's church and they're the nicest folks you could ever hope to meet. But then ya see entire cities filled with black baboons acting deplorably - and at some point ya gotta live in the real world.
At the end of the day it is what it is, I guess.
Wednesday, 25 December 2019
A Tree Too Far
This latest dispatch comes to us from Private McKenzie who is currently bogged down in the trenches near the Somme or Ypres or some other god-be-damned place.
Another fine historical thriller!
For those of you unaware, Rob is THE authority on
modern firearms like the Martini Henry, the Snider Enfield and
other many firearms from the pre-smokeless era.
If you lucked out and received one of these grand antiques for Christmas,
check out his channel to see how to make these
grand relics shoot and live again.
Be sure to wish him a Merry Christmas as well.
Preliminary Christmas Load Out: Less Than Optimal
Hmpffff. For the last couple years I have been struggling with the great Stubfart's Dilemma: how to make fast, convenient coffee on the go. Sorry - I don't do instant coffee, nor any of that flavoured faggy stuff. I want an honest coffee, perked or filtered - don't care which, strong enough to float a horse shoe ... and other than that, whatever's in the jerry can is fine.
Somehow, even after 30 years of camping... I've never really played with the liquid heating fuels like sterno. I've dabbled with those hexane tablet stoves but jeez louise… they are so slooooooow. Up here in Canada, where we actually get winter (Where's my warble gloaming Greta? Gard darm your retarded arse!!!) - errrr…. did I just say that out loud? Sorry everyone!!! (And get stuffed, Greta!! (and did you get my coal for Christmas, you little chit?!?!?))...
Where was I? My Tourette's acting up again. Oh yes: jellied cooking fuel! For Christmas my wife bought me some coffee gizmos and the perker will be just right for tailgate coffee when I have the oh-so-trusty (and officially M approved) Jetboil stove. But I would like something more compact than even the Jetboil for making coffee on the trail, when I am out with the Dawgs, or X country skiing or something like that. Whilst digging through the wife's preps, I found a 100 year old can of sterno and decided to give it a go.
This is in the house where it's 18C and nice and warm. I tried for 20 minutes to burn some water for coffee and it got close - but I gave up on it. This will never work outside when it's -20C. Looks like I am going to be packing a bulky (but officially M approved) Jetboil for now in my arse pack. I will boil the water up and then put it through a pocket coffee-dripper thing that only makes a cup at a time. For now I guess it will have to work.
I will be doing some long range dawg patrols shortly - and would appreciate your company and thoughts if you decide to come along. My wife got me some snow gaiters for Xmas too - and I am just cranked to try them out!
Hope you got something cool for Christmas too! God bless you and yours and take care in the New Year!
Cheers,
Filthie
Tuesday, 24 December 2019
Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas
From Captain Sweatpants and his crime fighting K9 cohorts.
Christmas has changed shape for me over the years. Nowadays it’s about the solace of the sleeping woods, the peace of the breeze and snow and silence... and the company of some hoople-headed dawgs.
Have a peaceful and harmonious Christmas, and a very Happy New Year.
God bless.
Sunday, 22 December 2019
Monday Morning Rude Jokes
Bblbbluuurglbgle... Monday morn already? Welp... let’s get this week started off right - with some good ol’ fashioned rude jokes!
When I was a kid and it was time to get moving my parents would often wake us up. They always went after Big Bro first. If Pop was waking him up... I’d hear some punching and slapping sounds and eventually Big Bro going, “Gaaaaah...!!! Gedaddahere, yah old fart...!!!!” By the time Pop looked in on me I’d be moving smartly! If Mom woke him up, she’d just crack the door and let Charlie the farm dawg do the rest. She’d go barrelling in there, covered in ice and snow from a crisp night sleeping outdoors... and try and hop in the sack with her toasty warm master. The resulting hideous shrieking would get me moving in a business like fashion too.
Pop was an equal opportunity prankster in those days, but I am my father’s son. One cursed morning he barged in, intent on slapping me into wakefulness... and hit a visible wall of STINK at full speed. Ya see... I had a terminal case of the bed farts all night, and the incredible stench almost put his lights out. Gagging and retching, he blindly backed out, and scrabbled my door closed.
Out in the kitchen I heard dad bitching and groaning and warning everyone not to go near my room until he’d had a chance to caulk it and seal it closed. “He’s either dead or he’s shat himself,” Pop groused, “and I’m not going in to find out!”
Think I’m gonna eat some beans today.... and maybe stop by your place afterwards for a long friendly pre-Christmas visit. ππ
Dream ANALysis: The Witcher And The Bitcher
I’m in the TV room. In my easy chair. I have the blanket pulled up, sawing logs after a long but satisfying hike with the dawgs. The hike was probably too long. I’m in that warm golden cloud of sleep where all is well, comfortable, warm and cozy as the TV murmers to itself in the background.
A jarring scuffle intrudes.
Again, only louder and more harsh this time. My daughter’s room. I hear her screech with fury and outrage behind the closed door. What’s going on in there? It’s 100 years ago, she’s a toddler again, and I am young again too. At first I’m annoyed. It’s always something with that kid. A fella can’t even steal a few winks in the afternoon with that damn kid getting into trouble, I thought angrily to myself. Now the scuffling noises in her room grow panicked and louder. She starts to scream in terror. Something is in the room with her. I didn’t know what it was, only that it was something awful. And I find myself paralyzed. The screams turn from fury to fright... and I remain rooted. The house shakes from the impacts going on in that room. Blood starts to seep under the door. I wake up.
So I find myself in bed, all is well. And I wake up this Sunday morn in a strange state of discord and at odds with myself. The wife cuts a big billowing fart. (Or maybe it was me. Oh - there’s Pooh in the sheets; that’s definitely me! HAR HAR HAR!!!ππ)). Macey snores softly at the foot of the bed. Mort guards at his post downstairs at the big window in the living room. 5 bells and all’s well. JFC... what kind a dream was that?
In the dream - did I stay anchored in place by an outside influence? Or was it by choice? Was I craven? Afraid to confront my daughter’s monsters? Was that dream a metaphor for all the rivers of bad blood between us?
Or was it because I’d fallen asleep yesterday afternoon in my chair watching the first few exciting episodes of The Witcher on Netflix as I gobbled Christmas baking? Good grief! That fuggin show was written the usual lesbian authors that dream of a fantasy world where they ride around on dragons playing with the elves and faggots in the shire or killing men! I fell asleep in the first episode and woke up in the fourth to a scene where the hunch backed woman has her uterus, her ovaries and Fallopian tubes pulled out and burned in a sacrificial fire. That scene alone must have had every pink pussy hatter and she-twink in Hollywood hooting and gibbering at the moon in rage! HAR HAR HAR!!! This latest Netflix series is your usual social justice lecture where angry women rule and battle monsters and villains who are all played by evil white men. I can’t recommend it to anyone with a triple digit IQ.
I gotta stop watching crappy TV while eating crappy food! Today I’m going to get up early and knock off the chores early. Then I’m going to go clear my mind with a healthy breakfast and some disciplined archery practice. Then I’ll join the wife at church. GAH ...! What a way to start a day!
Hope you’re off to a good start! Have a great Sunday... and keep your distance from the TV.
Saturday, 21 December 2019
A Filthie Christmas Special Cartoon
Every year at this time there’s geniuses and morons around telling us everything we need to know about doing Christmas right. The latest and greatest advice I heard this year is “Don’t tell the little ones the myth of Santa Claus...”. According to the cool kids, when the little ones find out you lied to them about Santa, they will question everything else that you told them too, and you’ll destroy their trust in you as a parent. Instead, tell the kids the truth - that St Nick was a fourth century Greek bishop that gave out Christmas presents at Yule, blah blah blah. Kids should know where their presents came from so that they can appreciate generosity from the people responsible.
I dunno about that myself. I still remember being sad that Santa wasn’t real, my big bro spoiled it all for me when I was five. Is that too old to still believe in Santa? I wasn’t traumatized by it, near as I can tell. But I do recall a vague sense of betrayal. It must have been a big deal though - to this day I can still remember the exact time and place when I learned the truth.
Is there any merit in that one?
2019 Hunting Season Round Up
As the self proclaimed expert on hunting and God’s gift to the shooting sports, it falls to me to keep tabs on all the retards sporting gentlemen and stay abreast of their accomplishments. Let's see how they all made out, shall we?
The tards at Camp Borepatch did well for themselves!!! Seems like ASM
was not telling any lies when it comes to the lethality of hand grenades! Good work, men!!!π
King Peter tagged out early in the season with an elk and a moose. As the senior sportsman in his tribe, I confiscated the credit for both the kills even though I wasn’t there.
But I did help the youngsters with processing the meat and let them keep it afterward.
Here he is after firing one arrow up the hoop of another one a la Rubin Hood.
I am green with envy!!! The smarmy chit...π‘
BW tagged out with this gagger. I’m going to ask him to donate the antlers though.
Apparently ground up elk antlers are great for old guys with E.D. and plugged
up urinary tracts due to enlarged prostates.
Eeerrrrrrrr... it’s for a friend dontchya know...ππ
Jack is gonna be in the can for at least 90 days this time. I’ve told him time
and time again that hunting without tags is poaching.
Sigh.
Serves him right!!!π‘
All this hunting goodness left me with a severe case of cabin fever so I rounded up the dogs for an easy early winter outing.
We need to do a serious Old Fart Snow Shoe Biathlon. I took my dawgs to scope out
the course at my old club. Last time I saw this place was 25 years ago.
The only people here were me, the dawgs, and maybe some much-loved and long missed
old ghosts.
The place sure has run down in all that time.π
My hunting dawgs take a break while I take a leak.
We take another break while Macey chews the snowballs out of her feet.
I was strongly tempted to put her down on the spot; she was
slowing down the rest of my athletic team.
Errr… what's that awful STINK that's come over my blog
all of a sudden...?
This used to be the worst shot on the property. At 70m, across a little ravine, a lot of us lost arrows shooting here. Stu The Jew and I were probly good for a half dozen
each...
They have some shot up 3D critters out on the front trails.
Sigh.
Macey. Holding up the team. AGAIN.
She'll get cut from the K9 commandos if this keeps up,
mark my words...
I sincerely hope the 2019 hunting season was good to you and your kids. With the guns and ammo put up for the season - we all better get out our ass boxes, ice augers and tents! Ice fishing will be upon us before ya know it!!!
Maybe we should try ice fishin' with hand grenades this year?
Rangers Retarded
I'm old and deaf and a little bit stupid so someone correct me if I'm wrong or misheard something, okay?
Apparently, women can be Rangers now? I'm no expert on matters military; but... we're talking about those guys that are like Navy SEALs, or maybe the Marines... but only WORSE? Those guys that jump out of perfectly good airplanes with 150 lbs. of camping equipment, to pay personal visits to really chitty people? Uncle Sam's personal Antisonofabitch Machine? Those guys?
Hmpffff. I'll be damned. Who woulda thunk women could pass the PT requirements?
*Ahem*
Far be it for me - a mere elderly arm chair stubfart - to tell any of the squaddies their business. But... apropos of nothing at all...
Apparently, women can be Rangers now? I'm no expert on matters military; but... we're talking about those guys that are like Navy SEALs, or maybe the Marines... but only WORSE? Those guys that jump out of perfectly good airplanes with 150 lbs. of camping equipment, to pay personal visits to really chitty people? Uncle Sam's personal Antisonofabitch Machine? Those guys?
Hmpffff. I'll be damned. Who woulda thunk women could pass the PT requirements?
*Ahem*
Far be it for me - a mere elderly arm chair stubfart - to tell any of the squaddies their business. But... apropos of nothing at all...
How much is this intrepid lass lifting? 120 lbs?
How much does the average squaddie weigh with all his toys?
I'm guessing 250.
I'm probably light. Can your average hyper-athletic woman
lift and drag an injured squaddie with all his equipment?
Well I gotta admit... if a guy did that, even a Ranger...
he'd probly never fart or walk properly again...
How much does it cost to train your average Ranger? With the fun-filled vacations to exotic foreign countries? The training on the cool toys like hover crafts, helicopters, and rocket launchers? Those guys, reduced to mere monetary economic units... gotta be worth a couple million apiece by the time they show up for work, don't they?
I'm sorry but I think there is a certain black baboon (not mentioning any names, mind you) - that needs to have his "legacy" completely and utterly erased and forgotten. Pozzing the military like this isn't good for anyone.
Friday, 20 December 2019
Harridan HarassMINT
I'm an arsehole, that's my problem. Put me in proximity to another one, and we'll hit critical mass and a gigantic explosion of foolishness, butt hurt and stupidity invariably results. I am the lowest common denominator - and you lot better believe it, HAR HAR HAR!
I shouldn't pick on Comrade Misfit. The lunatics and hysterics are saying their president is a Russian sock puppet. It's patently false, but you could tie yourself up for hours trying to convince the usual suspects otherwise. They'll believe what they want to believe, it doesn't matter if it's true or not. There's plenty of men like that - but it seems to be more commonplace among women. They hate who they hate, so any means to attack their enemies is fair and square, even if it's not! I pooped in the comments and made a hasty escape. I know, I know... she's probably just a senseless old shitlib bint, and she's entitled to her views. Problem is that these nutty cat women vote too. If you Americans decide to let them shred your constitution - promise me you'll put those old bitches to work in the fields picking cotton? Or maybe making coffee and sammiches? There's gotta be something USEFUL they can do after the civil war...?
Good lord. "My president is a commie rat!" chirped the commie rats, HAR HAR HAR!!!ππ
Rest assured, there ARE commie plants everywhere. You can tell because they watch OyTubes like this:
A heya heya ho!!!
Rubber begonias! Heya heya ho!!!
A hoya hoya hey!!!
Yannow, I am beginning to really like these scum sucking
commie bastids. If my wife ever regains her sense of sight and smell,
and I find myself single - I'm going to get a mail order Russian bride!
They don't have crazed, hysterical cat ladies and vaginal retards like Pelosi
or Warren in Russia... I wonder why...?
Oops!!! Did I sing along with that out loud??? Good heavens!!!! And this vodka I'm drinking? It isn't mine, I swear!!! It was here when I got here!!!! I'd better post something to signal my virtue, my patriotism and allegiance to the Americans that are so bravely defended by patriotic Democrats!!! Perhaps a good country and western toon is in order!!!
There we go!
An ode to empowered good women, prevailing in spite of overwhelming toxic masculinity!
You may have heard this classic before, but be sure to check out the vid.
There is some superlative guitar work on this version.
ImpeachMINT
It sounds like a food fight. Looks like one too by all accounts. The li’l retards here at Uncle Bob’s School For Wayward Boys N Retards took a vote, and now it sounds like I’m about to get railroaded by my idiot students the same way Trump is with his! Can you even impeach a retard school principal??? I’ll be RUINED!!!π‘
So...getting back to Trump... let me get this straight. Correct me if I’m wrong:
The watch dogs notice that Joe Biden’s crack head son is being paid millions by Bohunk (Ukrainian) business execs, supposedly for a job that the boy isn’t remotely qualified for. They send it upstairs, and Trump (rightly) tells them to investigate. If I misunderstood any of that please let me know.
The Donks scream foul; Trump his abusing his power and position by trying to smear his political opposition with “nuisance investigations”....? If that were true, the Donks could prove it in fairly short order, right? Am I missing something?
Complicating things further: it seems that the Donks have been doing the exact same thing; apparently the Buckwheat Administration had ordered the FBI and other Mickey Mouse outfits to spy on the Repubs in the run up to the last election.
And on top of all THAT, Donk politicos in Virginia are throwing out the constitution to enact illegal gun grabs.
Is that seriously the way of it?
So...getting back to Trump... let me get this straight. Correct me if I’m wrong:
The watch dogs notice that Joe Biden’s crack head son is being paid millions by Bohunk (Ukrainian) business execs, supposedly for a job that the boy isn’t remotely qualified for. They send it upstairs, and Trump (rightly) tells them to investigate. If I misunderstood any of that please let me know.
The Donks scream foul; Trump his abusing his power and position by trying to smear his political opposition with “nuisance investigations”....? If that were true, the Donks could prove it in fairly short order, right? Am I missing something?
Complicating things further: it seems that the Donks have been doing the exact same thing; apparently the Buckwheat Administration had ordered the FBI and other Mickey Mouse outfits to spy on the Repubs in the run up to the last election.
And on top of all THAT, Donk politicos in Virginia are throwing out the constitution to enact illegal gun grabs.
Is that seriously the way of it?
Christmas Porn
Tis the season! HAR HAR HAR!!! I shouldn’t laugh, for years that was us. In the stores it was NUTS as the other last minute shoppers lost their marbles trying to find gifts for their loved ones. People got really nasty and sometimes it made others nasty too. It’s contagious. I’ve never seen or been in a store riot chimping out with other customers trying to get my grubbers on limited quantity Christmas Sale gizmos. But I have seen it in the parking lots were it turns into road rage.
Don’t miss that much either.
I just got a Merry Christmas mass flyer from our conservative MLA. On the front it said “MERRY CHRISTMAS”. There was clear pic of the nativity on it with some scriptures under that. No reference to “holiday trees” or attempts to subvert Christmas to mollify vibrants, perverts, or marxists that might be offended by a religious holiday. On the back of the leaflet there was the usual blurb about the latest liberal skullbuggery and what his party was going to do about it. Is Politically Correct Christmas finally dead now? Can we please kill the people responsible? Maybe just water board them for awhile? ππ
Never thought such a Season’s Greeting would be necessary... but ...may you have a very merry and politically incorrect Merry Christmas yourselves!
In the spirit of that... maybe an old favourite can get us in the spirit and proper frame of mind for the season! Enjoy this one, I have no idea how it evaded the obese pink haired gruppenfurhers, the KGB, and the butt blasting censors of OyTube!
Pretty girls? Scantily clad? Is this anti Semitic?!?!?
Somebody alert the Zampolit!!!
Thursday, 19 December 2019
Who Are You, Mr. Magoo?
"Top? Top! Get out here, you need to see this!" Cindy called.
Oh bloody hell. What now, I groaned. I went out into the ops room and the CBC wanks were up on the monitor, breaking the latest fake news from around the world, or around the corner.
The CBC bubble headed bleached blonde did her thing - narrating over scenes of an otherwise peaceful neighbourhood... except for the cops running around with submachine guns and shotguns... and then the cameras cut to another scene. A prim and severe police spokeswoman tried to maintain her composure, surrounded by an unruly gaggle of media slobs, all shouting out questions and demanding details. She was a pro, I thought, she pointedly ignored them and waited patiently until they came to order. The warm summer breeze threatened her hair. "This morning, at approximately 10:00 am, we made a preliminary arrest in connection with the assassination of our late prime minister," the lady intoned, obvously reading from a prepared statement. She went on to describe the large number of firearms and quantities of ammunition that had also been siezed. She firmly cautioned the reporters about jumping to conclusions and assured them that they would be informed of future developments. In the meantime, the perp was to be considered a "person of interest" only.
But,in the background, a soft thudding and squeaking noise could be distinctly heard, even over the din. Again... the shouting reporters slowly settled into astonished silence as the source of the noise became apparent: in the squad car containing the perp, behind the policewoman, a bald man thudded his face against the window and started sucking on it... moving his head up and down as he did so. Thud. Sqeeeeeeeeeeeeek… thud... squeeeeeeeeeeak.. thud….the man leered comically as he capered for the cameras. "Officer Hoyle! Miss Hoyle!!! Is that the perp in the squad car behind you? In your opinion, is he psyhotic??? What kind of mental illness is that??? Miss Hoyle...!!!"
The police woman's composure cracked as she gawped and tried to find words. Someone had left the car window cracked as it was a hot summer day, and the perp struggled awkwardly to get his mouth up to it - with both arms cuffed behind him. "It's okay to be white!!!" he shouted. "The CBC sucks!!! CBC SUCKS!!! FAKE NEWS" the man crowed. "Make America great again!" he yodelled. By then a couple officers were in the back seat, stifling him and trying to restrain his thrashing and struggles. The reporters exploded into hysteria again. "Miss Hoyle!!! Is the suspect a white supremist??? Has he hurt any people of colour? What are the RCMP doing to fight the resurgence of neo-fascism in Alberta...!?!? Has your department any leads on accomplices - How long has the department had this information? Were there any red flags or warning signs that the suspect might be violent -!!!" The bubble headed bleached blonde came back on and assured her listeners that they'd be kept informed of the latest developments in the effort to capture the perpetrator of Canada's first prime ministerial assassination. Stay tuned!
Cindy muted the TV. Most of us were as shocked as the RCMP spokeswoman was. Al recovered first."Well, y'all know what they say about the RCMP -" I tried to be responsible, but I was just as juvenile and immature as the rest of my team. In perfect unison, we all shouted the punchline together back at Al. "THE RCMP ALWAYS GET THEIR MAN!!!!" You could tell... we'd done this before. Applause and laughter rippled through the ops room. Kids will be kids. Even with the mother of all migraines coming on...it did feel good to see that all my people, at least, were the best of the best. They could see this shit storm coming as clearly as I. Chit. I better get busy. "Cindy - can I see you in my office real quick? It'll only take a sec..."
"What's your take, Cindy?" I asked. She shrugged, and said the obvious. "He's not our guy. He has a blog - mostly pooh jokes and some off colour race and sex jokes. He has guns - but he has fishing rods and tents too. He's a member of several rod and gun clubs and is in good standing with them. No prior history of violent or criminal conduct. He's just another alienated westerner that hates Ottawa and liberals."
I nodded, but that wasn't what I was asking. "Figures. But - what I'm asking you is this: what will The Swamp do?" That stopped her cold. The friggin Yanks whine and cry about their swamp creatures in gov't in America. Jeez Louise - ours could teach theirs lessons! Americans get ripped right off when their politicos step out of line. Fuggin Canadians just shrug and go back to watching the hockey game. Except the fricken Albertans, Saskatchewan stubble jumpers and kadiddlehoppers, and half of Manitoba and BC. They all wanted to bust the country up, burn it down and go it alone. There are days when I don't blame them. But... Cindy, it seemed, had vapour locked.
"Well?" I prompted. She just seemed to deflate. Looking at the floor, she started to speak.
"The morons are going to run with it. The RCMP are hopelessly pozzed and compromised. Most are so incompetent they will believe this guy is the perp. A few - the ones that count - will go along with it because of their connection with the swamp. They don't care who actually did it at this point, all they want to do is hang somebody for it and sweep it under the rug. Our boy was done the second he let his mouth run away with him about that MAGA crap..."
Inwardly I gloated to myself. My team was the best there was. But, were they good enough?
"What else? Say it, Cindy," I said gently.
"You won't go along with it. You'll run your mouth the same way that goober in the squad car did - and the swamp will try to get rid of you. Again. They will probably succeed. I don't think you will survive it, but the current leaders need to purge law enforcement of wrong thinkers... and you have been bothering the wrong people for an awfully, awfully long time. This one will be the final nail in your coffin if you want to get stupid about it, Top."
She was now looking at me defiantly - and it almost choked me up. Good girl!!! I loved these kids more than anything in the world... but it was time. We both knew it.
"Very good, Cindy. Well done!" I chortled. "But you're off on a few small things..."
20 years ago I brought down Jean Poutine Cretin and his gaggle of Librano liars, thieves and cheats. Oh sure, it all LOOKED like a politician retiring to enjoy more time with the family; it was supposed to. But in point of fact, I had dossiers and files on that french bastard a mile long. A nasty internal turf war broke out behind the scenes, away from the cameras, and by the time I was done I not only knocked off Cretin - I'd gotten a few of his sycophants too. Kinsella, Rock... gawd it was nice to see them 'announcing their retirements'. They should have hung. As should any number of others, but they got away. Swamps like these are very big places. That was my magnus opus. Over the years I got a few more scalps, and the right people were scared shitless of me. But time moves on, I got older and less sharp, and age began to take its toll. I wasn't that young hotshot anymore, and never would be again.
"In point of fact, Cindy, the prime minister's office will probably demand my resignation in the next two hours - and they will get it too! After they get me... they will go after you guys. None of you are to be heroes, you hear? Anything they find to bitch about - is my fault. Blame it on me no matter what it is. None of you are to fuck up your futures trying to be ethical and moral with that crowd. They'll eat you alive - but you know that. They are going to go through this place with a fine tooth comb, looking for anything they can use against us. If they can't find it, they will manufacture the dirt they need. Chances are good that before this is over, you and the boys will be out too. As soon as you can, round up half a dozen burner phones. We'll all stay in contact, we'll take these swine on as a team... and God willing, we might win this little turf war. Above all - keep after the REAL perp. This guy is a pro and he's making us look like pikers too..."
Cindy went back to work, and I struggled to get my poop in a group. I wrote up my letter of resignation, cleaned off my desk, and filled a box with my few meager personal personal effects. 39 years with the Company. Holy shit - where does the time go? Soon I was lost somewhere down memory lane, remembering times and faces long gone. My mind had stalled. It did that a lot lately.
I was stirred from my memories by the buzzing cell phone. A text informed me to clear my schedule and make myself available for a meeting at my office at 4:30. Hmpffff. They decided to wait until the end of the day? Probably as a means of giving me one last middle finger on the way out, maybe?
I smirked. Nah. I should at least show some class...be professional. But.... I reached for the cell and responded to the text - and deleted it and started all over again, with everything in caps. That annoyed the hell out of some people...so why not?
SORRY. I WILL BE LEAVING THE OFFICE EARLY TODAY TO ATTEND SOME PERSONAL MATTERS AND WON'T BE AVAILABLE UNTIL 8:00 AM TOMORROW MORN. AFTER THAT, I WILL BE PLEASED TO MEET WITH YOU AT YOUR CONVENIENCE. CHEERS.
Dammitandblast! They had these smiley faces that kids put on all their text messages. There was even one with a coil of turd on it but I didn't know how to do that. Probably just as well. This is just one more aspect of my growing obsolescence, really.
I told Cindy I was leaving the office early, and gave a rude wink to Al and Cal, who both looked rather unhappy. "Get back to work, you pooch screwers!". In response, a crumpled up wad of paper flew at me.
"Have a great day you guys," I said - and flounced out. When I got to the car, I instinctively reached for my mickey of pepto. I had the lid off and was going to take a big gulp... and realized that my guts weren't on fire. No hint of a migraine either! In bewilderment, I capped and replaced the bottle of pepto in the cup holder.
I'll be damned.
Oh bloody hell. What now, I groaned. I went out into the ops room and the CBC wanks were up on the monitor, breaking the latest fake news from around the world, or around the corner.
The CBC bubble headed bleached blonde did her thing - narrating over scenes of an otherwise peaceful neighbourhood... except for the cops running around with submachine guns and shotguns... and then the cameras cut to another scene. A prim and severe police spokeswoman tried to maintain her composure, surrounded by an unruly gaggle of media slobs, all shouting out questions and demanding details. She was a pro, I thought, she pointedly ignored them and waited patiently until they came to order. The warm summer breeze threatened her hair. "This morning, at approximately 10:00 am, we made a preliminary arrest in connection with the assassination of our late prime minister," the lady intoned, obvously reading from a prepared statement. She went on to describe the large number of firearms and quantities of ammunition that had also been siezed. She firmly cautioned the reporters about jumping to conclusions and assured them that they would be informed of future developments. In the meantime, the perp was to be considered a "person of interest" only.
But,in the background, a soft thudding and squeaking noise could be distinctly heard, even over the din. Again... the shouting reporters slowly settled into astonished silence as the source of the noise became apparent: in the squad car containing the perp, behind the policewoman, a bald man thudded his face against the window and started sucking on it... moving his head up and down as he did so. Thud. Sqeeeeeeeeeeeeek… thud... squeeeeeeeeeeak.. thud….the man leered comically as he capered for the cameras. "Officer Hoyle! Miss Hoyle!!! Is that the perp in the squad car behind you? In your opinion, is he psyhotic??? What kind of mental illness is that??? Miss Hoyle...!!!"
The police woman's composure cracked as she gawped and tried to find words. Someone had left the car window cracked as it was a hot summer day, and the perp struggled awkwardly to get his mouth up to it - with both arms cuffed behind him. "It's okay to be white!!!" he shouted. "The CBC sucks!!! CBC SUCKS!!! FAKE NEWS" the man crowed. "Make America great again!" he yodelled. By then a couple officers were in the back seat, stifling him and trying to restrain his thrashing and struggles. The reporters exploded into hysteria again. "Miss Hoyle!!! Is the suspect a white supremist??? Has he hurt any people of colour? What are the RCMP doing to fight the resurgence of neo-fascism in Alberta...!?!? Has your department any leads on accomplices - How long has the department had this information? Were there any red flags or warning signs that the suspect might be violent -!!!" The bubble headed bleached blonde came back on and assured her listeners that they'd be kept informed of the latest developments in the effort to capture the perpetrator of Canada's first prime ministerial assassination. Stay tuned!
****
Cindy muted the TV. Most of us were as shocked as the RCMP spokeswoman was. Al recovered first."Well, y'all know what they say about the RCMP -" I tried to be responsible, but I was just as juvenile and immature as the rest of my team. In perfect unison, we all shouted the punchline together back at Al. "THE RCMP ALWAYS GET THEIR MAN!!!!" You could tell... we'd done this before. Applause and laughter rippled through the ops room. Kids will be kids. Even with the mother of all migraines coming on...it did feel good to see that all my people, at least, were the best of the best. They could see this shit storm coming as clearly as I. Chit. I better get busy. "Cindy - can I see you in my office real quick? It'll only take a sec..."
****
"What's your take, Cindy?" I asked. She shrugged, and said the obvious. "He's not our guy. He has a blog - mostly pooh jokes and some off colour race and sex jokes. He has guns - but he has fishing rods and tents too. He's a member of several rod and gun clubs and is in good standing with them. No prior history of violent or criminal conduct. He's just another alienated westerner that hates Ottawa and liberals."
I nodded, but that wasn't what I was asking. "Figures. But - what I'm asking you is this: what will The Swamp do?" That stopped her cold. The friggin Yanks whine and cry about their swamp creatures in gov't in America. Jeez Louise - ours could teach theirs lessons! Americans get ripped right off when their politicos step out of line. Fuggin Canadians just shrug and go back to watching the hockey game. Except the fricken Albertans, Saskatchewan stubble jumpers and kadiddlehoppers, and half of Manitoba and BC. They all wanted to bust the country up, burn it down and go it alone. There are days when I don't blame them. But... Cindy, it seemed, had vapour locked.
"Well?" I prompted. She just seemed to deflate. Looking at the floor, she started to speak.
"The morons are going to run with it. The RCMP are hopelessly pozzed and compromised. Most are so incompetent they will believe this guy is the perp. A few - the ones that count - will go along with it because of their connection with the swamp. They don't care who actually did it at this point, all they want to do is hang somebody for it and sweep it under the rug. Our boy was done the second he let his mouth run away with him about that MAGA crap..."
Inwardly I gloated to myself. My team was the best there was. But, were they good enough?
"What else? Say it, Cindy," I said gently.
"You won't go along with it. You'll run your mouth the same way that goober in the squad car did - and the swamp will try to get rid of you. Again. They will probably succeed. I don't think you will survive it, but the current leaders need to purge law enforcement of wrong thinkers... and you have been bothering the wrong people for an awfully, awfully long time. This one will be the final nail in your coffin if you want to get stupid about it, Top."
She was now looking at me defiantly - and it almost choked me up. Good girl!!! I loved these kids more than anything in the world... but it was time. We both knew it.
"Very good, Cindy. Well done!" I chortled. "But you're off on a few small things..."
20 years ago I brought down Jean Poutine Cretin and his gaggle of Librano liars, thieves and cheats. Oh sure, it all LOOKED like a politician retiring to enjoy more time with the family; it was supposed to. But in point of fact, I had dossiers and files on that french bastard a mile long. A nasty internal turf war broke out behind the scenes, away from the cameras, and by the time I was done I not only knocked off Cretin - I'd gotten a few of his sycophants too. Kinsella, Rock... gawd it was nice to see them 'announcing their retirements'. They should have hung. As should any number of others, but they got away. Swamps like these are very big places. That was my magnus opus. Over the years I got a few more scalps, and the right people were scared shitless of me. But time moves on, I got older and less sharp, and age began to take its toll. I wasn't that young hotshot anymore, and never would be again.
"In point of fact, Cindy, the prime minister's office will probably demand my resignation in the next two hours - and they will get it too! After they get me... they will go after you guys. None of you are to be heroes, you hear? Anything they find to bitch about - is my fault. Blame it on me no matter what it is. None of you are to fuck up your futures trying to be ethical and moral with that crowd. They'll eat you alive - but you know that. They are going to go through this place with a fine tooth comb, looking for anything they can use against us. If they can't find it, they will manufacture the dirt they need. Chances are good that before this is over, you and the boys will be out too. As soon as you can, round up half a dozen burner phones. We'll all stay in contact, we'll take these swine on as a team... and God willing, we might win this little turf war. Above all - keep after the REAL perp. This guy is a pro and he's making us look like pikers too..."
Cindy went back to work, and I struggled to get my poop in a group. I wrote up my letter of resignation, cleaned off my desk, and filled a box with my few meager personal personal effects. 39 years with the Company. Holy shit - where does the time go? Soon I was lost somewhere down memory lane, remembering times and faces long gone. My mind had stalled. It did that a lot lately.
I was stirred from my memories by the buzzing cell phone. A text informed me to clear my schedule and make myself available for a meeting at my office at 4:30. Hmpffff. They decided to wait until the end of the day? Probably as a means of giving me one last middle finger on the way out, maybe?
I smirked. Nah. I should at least show some class...be professional. But.... I reached for the cell and responded to the text - and deleted it and started all over again, with everything in caps. That annoyed the hell out of some people...so why not?
SORRY. I WILL BE LEAVING THE OFFICE EARLY TODAY TO ATTEND SOME PERSONAL MATTERS AND WON'T BE AVAILABLE UNTIL 8:00 AM TOMORROW MORN. AFTER THAT, I WILL BE PLEASED TO MEET WITH YOU AT YOUR CONVENIENCE. CHEERS.
Dammitandblast! They had these smiley faces that kids put on all their text messages. There was even one with a coil of turd on it but I didn't know how to do that. Probably just as well. This is just one more aspect of my growing obsolescence, really.
I told Cindy I was leaving the office early, and gave a rude wink to Al and Cal, who both looked rather unhappy. "Get back to work, you pooch screwers!". In response, a crumpled up wad of paper flew at me.
"Have a great day you guys," I said - and flounced out. When I got to the car, I instinctively reached for my mickey of pepto. I had the lid off and was going to take a big gulp... and realized that my guts weren't on fire. No hint of a migraine either! In bewilderment, I capped and replaced the bottle of pepto in the cup holder.
I'll be damned.
Wednesday, 18 December 2019
A Christmas Grump
My wife has an odd hobby. She makes cards for birthdays and Christmas. Some she makes from scratch with little drawings and calligraphy on them. Others are illuminated and ornate affairs that involve stencils, farkles and frillies and finials...and they can be simple and plain or complex and ornate. People love to receive them. Yesterday we got a standard issue hallmark Xmas card from Mom. “Merry Christmas, drop by sometime, we love you and miss you”.
'Tis the season.
I was on another stubfart blog and the boys were talking about Christmas. In the comments a couple of the tards were bragging about how they like to “fuck with the Christians at Christmas by rubbing their noses in the fact that Christmas is actually a pagan holiday...”. They were yukking it up and I said nothing. I just left my holiday greetings and left it at that. “Fucking with people” was a big Christmas pastime in our families too. They thought it was great sport to fuck with Christians, conservatives, gun owners, tradition, customs and even morality. It started off with mild jabs, but every year it got nastier and meaner and pretty soon it WAS a pagan holiday, for all it was worth. I see some of the lefty rag sheets like Vox and The Daily Beast are priming the pagans up with all the political talking points they will need to fuck with the Christians and conservatives at Christmas time this year too.
Yay. Enjoy your fuckery, I guess!!! Don't cheat on the score cards, HAR HAR HAR! HAR HAR HAR!!! ππ
It doesn't bother me at all if the Christmas holiday rhymes with pagan festivals. It doesn't bother me one whit if some of the events in the bible rhyme with those in the tales and mythology of ancient Mesopatamian myths and legends.
I am just a man that is trying (and failing) to make sense of his fellows and of his Maker.
I don't want to spend my Christmas trying to score points on idiots or trying to shut them out on me. From here on out, for me, Christmas is a time of peace, remembrance, introspections and rest.
Being a grumpy bastid, I frown on most carols and some Christmas music makes me want to vomit. But some of the newer stuff ain't that bad. Not even Sarah McBallgargler could ruin this one. It stirs what little is left of the Christmas spirit in me - and I hope that maybe it might for you as well.
'Tis the season.
I was on another stubfart blog and the boys were talking about Christmas. In the comments a couple of the tards were bragging about how they like to “fuck with the Christians at Christmas by rubbing their noses in the fact that Christmas is actually a pagan holiday...”. They were yukking it up and I said nothing. I just left my holiday greetings and left it at that. “Fucking with people” was a big Christmas pastime in our families too. They thought it was great sport to fuck with Christians, conservatives, gun owners, tradition, customs and even morality. It started off with mild jabs, but every year it got nastier and meaner and pretty soon it WAS a pagan holiday, for all it was worth. I see some of the lefty rag sheets like Vox and The Daily Beast are priming the pagans up with all the political talking points they will need to fuck with the Christians and conservatives at Christmas time this year too.
Yay. Enjoy your fuckery, I guess!!! Don't cheat on the score cards, HAR HAR HAR! HAR HAR HAR!!! ππ
It doesn't bother me at all if the Christmas holiday rhymes with pagan festivals. It doesn't bother me one whit if some of the events in the bible rhyme with those in the tales and mythology of ancient Mesopatamian myths and legends.
Great do, Ashurbanipal.
You're looking good, Gilgamesh!
You pagans and heathens can worship your rock stars as you
see fit, and extend me the same courtesy.
I don't want to spend my Christmas trying to score points on idiots or trying to shut them out on me. From here on out, for me, Christmas is a time of peace, remembrance, introspections and rest.
Being a grumpy bastid, I frown on most carols and some Christmas music makes me want to vomit. But some of the newer stuff ain't that bad. Not even Sarah McBallgargler could ruin this one. It stirs what little is left of the Christmas spirit in me - and I hope that maybe it might for you as well.
God rest ye, merry gentlemen... and have a great Humpday.
Tuesday, 17 December 2019
Arts N Crafts
Back in the day I used to carry more junk with me than Batman. People laughed at me because I had a mag lite on my belt with a blade and a calculator and a cell phone... then I had even MOAR junk. One day at work the power went out and I was pleased as punch because I was prepared!!! I had a flashlight!!! Laugh at me now, ye buggardly scoffers-
And then the guys next door came over and took it. They had a dark warehouse out back and one of their forklifts crashed when the lights went out. I handed it over and was left in the dark like everyone else.
It
The other day I made one a these pocket organizers. It holds a pencil, a flashlight, a knife and a notepad and keeps it all from rattling round in your pocket. It’s awesome. It became handy the second I started carrying it. At coffee King Peter got in a fight about the historical details of the German blitzkrieg into Fwance in WW2. I pulled the pad and pencil out and Pete started sketching out a passable map of the Ardennes while I tried to fact check him on the cell. Later I drooped my keys at night and had to use the flashlight to hunt for them. I used it again when I had to fumble with the club locks at night too.
Style wise, I suppose pocket organizers are right up there with pocket protectors... but what the hell. It works.
Fuggin Illegal Aliens
I gave up on Star Wars a hundred years ago. It just got too stupid... even for me! Fighting muppets, SJW’s in space, and all the original actors dying off. I heard that on the next one they’re all a-flutter because some of the characters were going to be queers. I suppose the trannies and 72 other genders will be along in the next exciting episodes.
The other part of my dissatisfaction with Hollyweird is that they aren’t doing anything new at all. They’re apparently doing Ghostbusters again. If I recall, the last remake had replaced all the male characters with new and exciting vibrant wahmen. Some of the original cast for that one are dead too, I think?
Bah, I think I hate Hollywood most of all because I am a bitter old fart! I’ve watched a few of my old favourites awhile back and all I can think of is how lame they seem now! HAR HAR HAR!!!
Maybe if I mix my Metamucil a little stronger I’ll lighten up.
Monday, 16 December 2019
Taking Names And Remembering Faces
PROLOGUE
"Got you, ya sonofabitch!!!! There you are....!!!"
The entire team started at the exclamation. Scared the shit out of me too - my eyes had glazed over and my mind numbed as we all reviewed the endless footage from the news feeds and body cams and street mounted CCTV cams.
I tried to clear my head and get back in the game. "What have you got, Al?" Everyone started to get up and walk over to cluster around him. A few stretched and yawned - I was not the only one losing my edge. We'd been hard at it since the afternoon - yesterday, now.
Al looked embarrassed. "Sorry guys... it's just that I've been watching these damned vids for hours and seeing absolutely nothing. But... this guy? He's blipping on my bush radar..." I knew what he meant. The news feeds were all going nuts and jumping at shadows. The conspiracy kooks were blaming us, The Mob, the Russians, the rag heads, and possibly even the Girl Scouts. "Let me rewind this a bit," Al said, stabbing at his keyboard with two fat fingers. "Put it on the big monitor, Al?" Cindy asked.
"Here we go..."
On the screen the vid took place at street level. People milled in the front and foreground as they all did at these things. A couple of queers with dildoes capered and gibbered for the camera, surrounded by the usual other freaks that laughed at their antics. The crowd around that ran the gamut, from prudes to other perverts. The camera smoothly panned over all of them without stopping. I felt my ire rise. "Got it. Our Prime Minister was capped in broad daylight by a gang of rowdy queers. JFC, Al - take a break..."
"Not the queers, Top. Look - in the back ground. Across the street... let me rewind this and run it again." The characters on the monitor did a silent, comical sped up pantomime in reverse as the vid rewinded - and then started to play forward, at normal speed.
"Wait... the geezer? With the dogs? He looks like Mr. Magoo..." I said. The man in question wore a syleless summer garden hat. He limped along with two dogs... fairly big ones. He stopped and started trying to start a conversation with a couple security guys from CSIS... but they shooed him along just as they should have. One of the friendlier dogs buried its nose in the crotch of the female agent and everyone laughed.
"Shut it!" I grouched, "Al, you seriously need to go home -"
"Wait, for it," Al said peevishly. Up on the monitor, The Geezer made a few more attempts to chat up the CSIS spooks, and they firmly dismissed him a second time. Old people some times get clingy. Then... I saw it.
Oh shit.
The old man was carrying a case for a musical instrument - a trombone, by the look of it. I put my head in my hands and felt a migraine coming on. We were trained for that. Putting guns in guitar and violin cases is the oldest trick in the book! But... the chutzpah on this guy if he was the perp! Walking up and chatting up security? He must have been older than dirt; and the dogs must have disarmed the spooks. Who'd be suspicious of a crippled old fart out for a dog walk? Goddammit, they were probably hung up on watching for swastika clad Skinheads or yodelling moslem militants. That was the oldest mistake in the books. If that was our man - and it was still a long shot that he was - all of our fuggin heads would roll. Later that afternoon, our prime minister had had his head taken off a la JFK, with a flawless head shot. It was the exact same as the JFK caper too - two rapid follow up shots at a couple of his flunkies.. The only difference is that the perp here had gotten away. And of course, the blame started flying as gums flapped and fingers pointed... and we were on the top of everyone's shit list. The blood hadn't even begun to dry. My career was over, I knew it a few seconds after the PM's headless corpse toppled over on some fat old cat lady that was his Number One Fan. Blood had splattered all over a nearby drag queen and it started to shriek as shrilly as the Cat Lady. Yeah... you could say our PM was a class act all the way, and hung out with the trendiest people. It was all over the internet and media outlets in seconds. And of course, every second turd brain knew exactly what happened and why. These things always go the same way too. Any minute, one of the PM'S vibrant and diverse affirmative action flunkies or fart catchers was going to walk through the door, and ask for my resignation because I hadn't caught the suspect within 24 hours. I pinched the bridge of my nose... I had a migraine coming on and it was going to be epic!
Everyone including Hollywood thought sniper work was all about precision guns with big scopes, when in point of fact, making the shot was childishly easy compared to getting away afterward. Of course you're never fast enough, but we'd thrown up a cordon around the crime scenes that extended well beyond rifle range. And yet, all we knew at this point was the general direction the bullet had come from. Beyond that... so far... nothing.
I blew out my cheeks, put my glasses back on and struggled to gather my thoughts. "Okay. Alright - Mr. Magoo and his K9 cohorts are on the top of our list - for now. Start going through the other feeds - let's see if we can pick him up again. He has to be on at least a couple other cameras. Find out where, and what he did. Remember - the goal is to conclusively cross him off the list. We are not going head first into the crapper for busting an innocent old fart out for a dog walk, ya hear? Keep looking for other potentials - and either way, good work Al! Let's not have any sloppy work here. Fuck the press, fuck the PM's office, fuck the chattering skulls on the social media. DO YOUR JOBS. If you run into any other suspects, or need something and are catching flak or static - let me know."
My guts rumbled and the acid in my stomach went to work on my throat instead of my lunch.
I shoulda phoned in sick.
Sunday, 15 December 2019
The Filthie Rebreather Device
I seem to recall, only a couple years back...reading adventure the odd SF yarns where the elite navy SEALs or the secret agents attacked their enemies from the water using high tech rebreathers instead of scuba tanks because they didn’t make any bubbles and were stealthy.
I was shocked to find out that they’re actually doing it now. It’s threatening to become mainstream, and even some sport divers are starting to use it. I’ll be damned. I looked it up on google. Still can’t figure out why they’re doing it, it doesn’t seem to be any cheaper, or more efficient or safer...
I recall some other movie years ago where the divers were using “hyper-oxygenated fluids” for some reason... where they were actually ‘breathing’ a liquid. Are they actually doing that now too?
I may have to update my machine.
Things That Go PBBBBFFBTBBFFFT!!! In The Night
Dear gawd - am I ever getting old and fussy!!!π‘π‘π‘
The other day my knee decided to swell up and start aching like the devil! I don’t think I fell or slipped or otherwise stressed in any way either. The skin on it is blazing hot and swollen and I can get around if I hobble. I was sound asleep a few minutes ago when the wife farted in her sleep and rolled over and bumped it - and I shat myself in agony and hit the ceiling!
I scrabbled into the TV room and fell into my recliner...and figured I was good. I got snacks, and the wife got some frozen peas, wrapped them in a towel and put them on my beshitted knee... but now I’m trapped!!! I can’t get up without that thing tormenting me with searing waves of pain! And now I gotta pee.
Ordinarily I’d try to walk it off... but that might be making things worse. If I am not heard from in the next 12 hours... please send one a theretards emissaries from heaven over with a bed pan, a cane, and a great big bag of medical marijuana...
Jeez Louise... this “getting old” thing sucks!π‘
The other day my knee decided to swell up and start aching like the devil! I don’t think I fell or slipped or otherwise stressed in any way either. The skin on it is blazing hot and swollen and I can get around if I hobble. I was sound asleep a few minutes ago when the wife farted in her sleep and rolled over and bumped it - and I shat myself in agony and hit the ceiling!
I scrabbled into the TV room and fell into my recliner...and figured I was good. I got snacks, and the wife got some frozen peas, wrapped them in a towel and put them on my beshitted knee... but now I’m trapped!!! I can’t get up without that thing tormenting me with searing waves of pain! And now I gotta pee.
Ordinarily I’d try to walk it off... but that might be making things worse. If I am not heard from in the next 12 hours... please send one a the
Jeez Louise... this “getting old” thing sucks!π‘
Saturday, 14 December 2019
Musical Mystery Meat Moralizing
I think it was a year or so back. It was going around that the divorce rate for inter-racial couples ... specifically white/black couples... was north of 90%. And of course, a healthy majority of those divorces involved violent spousal abuse. And - because it was on the innernet it just HAD to be true!!! And of course, every sewer pipe on the net burst at once! RAYCISSSSSSSS!!!! The SJWs
I dunno if any of it was true but I sure loved the pandemonium and squawking the incident provoked! Thank goodness any hint of hateyness, fascism, racism and white supremacy got stamped out!!! Somebody’s feelings might have gotten hurt!!! Thank goodness for political correctness!!!
Ladies and gentlemen and those of indeterminate gender, please
enjoy this submission from Stephen Lynch!!!
Should you burn the coal, we hope you never pay the toll!!!
Congratulations To The UK!
It's a huge step in taking your country back. I saw a few Twitter storms posted by other bloggers where the Lefties were melting down and it was music to my ears. It almost made me want to open a Twatter account just so I could gloat at the cretins... but maturity prevailed.
Then it promptly dissolved; all the shitlibs on it were crying that they were going to vote with their feet and - move to Canada of course!
There's a bumper sticker on some of the rig pig trucks with a pic of Alberta on it with the caption, "Fuck Off, We're Full".
I wouldn't last 5 minutes on Twatter, some she-twink with purple hair and shit for brains would ban me the second I went active on it.
Congrats once again - but please... keep your libturd morons to yourselves. We have too many as it is.
Then it promptly dissolved; all the shitlibs on it were crying that they were going to vote with their feet and - move to Canada of course!
There's a bumper sticker on some of the rig pig trucks with a pic of Alberta on it with the caption, "Fuck Off, We're Full".
I wouldn't last 5 minutes on Twatter, some she-twink with purple hair and shit for brains would ban me the second I went active on it.
Congrats once again - but please... keep your libturd morons to yourselves. We have too many as it is.
Filthie Gets Fragged
Goddammitalltohell!! Where in the bloody blue blazes did I leave my glasses??.
Oh - good morning everyone!
Well my weekend is off to a great start. As you all know, I am a Special Ed teacher here at Uncle Bob’s School For Wayward Boys N’ Retards. I spend my days trying to edyacate morons and problem children and sometimes it’s pretty tough sledding. My worst student is Victor Quartermain... but I see that he’s finally trying to shape up and be a good student! He even left me a treat for the weekend! Most kids give their teachers apples... but Quartermain gave me a kiwi! Awfully nice of him, especially after all the discipline problems we had! Why, I thought my arm would fall off from all the flogging I did on him! Corporal punishment works!!!
Wait! Where are you off tro so fast? Ya just got here! Don’t you want to share my kiwi with me?
Oh well - suit yourself!! Have yourselves a great Saturday!!!
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