Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

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

Thursday, 31 December 2020

What Goes Around Comes Around

It never fails. I see Quartermain schlepping through the slush and slop, he slips - and goes face first into the schmaggg! HAR HAR HAR! HAR HAR HAR! What a tard!!! HAR HAR HAR! And ten seconds later, as that smoking hot pretty girl walks past... I will slip, do a triple-lindy flip, and do a belly flop/face plant even worse than he did! The tards’ll all start laughing at me and then I’ll get pished at the world because of it!!

๐Ÿ˜ก๐Ÿ˜ก๐Ÿ˜ก

Last week I had an unpleasant discussion with one of the bloggertards about the face diaper/chinkypox nonsense. I broke out the Crayolas, the finger puppets and other tard learning aids to explain to him why the masks don’t work. “Nuh-uh!!!” He said, “If they don’t work, then why do surgeons wear them? If you come down with the chinkydink, Filthie - and ya don’t wear ya mask - don’t expect me to have any sympathy for you!” I did the face/palm thing and gave up. Life is too short.

So I’m out surfing and another bloggertard somberly announces one of his pals has chinkydink. I click on the link to see who it is... and guess whose blog comes up? He’s on bottled O2 because reasons, and could die any moment. I wanted to HAR HAR HAR at him, but instead I told the dumbass that he had the flu, take four fingers of scotch, all the Buckley’s he can hold, and 1000 IU of vitamin D a day. And no, he wasn’t gonna die.

So if this runs it’s course the way these things usually do... I will come down with Ebola any minute now. Or VD. Or both! Maybe I should wear a mask now? And social distance? I think I can already feel my skeletal bones beginning to petrify!!! And my genitals!!! They are beginning to rot!!! Oh no!!!

๐Ÿ˜ฌ๐Ÿ˜ฌ๐Ÿ˜ฌ๐Ÿ˜ฌ

Bah! If anyone needs me, I will be over having a play date with Aesop. ๐Ÿ˜Š๐Ÿ‘


Broken Chains

 


In the15th century Europe, when the longbowmen owned the battlefield, the archers had a ceremony for retiring their bows when they broke or were close to it. They’d pitch them into the fire, and drink their faces off to celebrate ‘sending their bows to hell’. It sounds silly, but one has to appreciate that those guys shot their bows every single day. They hunted with them, fought with them, and staked their lives on them. They spent so much time on them that their musculature and skeletons actually deformed: archeologists can spot the remains of them 600 years later by their lopsided shoulders and their deformed hands. The three finger bones on the draw hand curled and fused into a claw shape. Saying goodbye to your bow in those days was serious business. Starting over with a new one meant uncertainty to guys that needed years to practice to achieve any sort of precision. Learning the quirks of a new bow took time.

Under the stairs, stacked among the seldom used household junk and Christmas decorations... is my daughter’s old bow. It’s a small cheap children’s model, but there’s about a dozen beautiful little wooden arrows with it. They’ve been there for years. I’d see them every so often and stop, and ponder about things gone wrong, things that might have been. It used to bum me right out. But I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of them.

They say that chains that bind families are only as strong as their weakest link. In ours, it’s tough to say which links failed. One? Or three? And who defines ‘strength’ these days? Redefining words to whitewash weakness is a hallmark of our age. Ugly is beautiful, love is hateful, down is up, families are...whatever, I guess. What is strength? Does it even matter? When the chain lets go...nothing is the same.

I was going to garbage the little bow and maybe burn the arrows on a campfire and send them to hell the way traditional archers might... but now I’m thinking better of it. You can’t sell this stuff, people buying it want new stuff and others can’t afford it as we hunker down in the economic fallout of the “new normal.” I think I’ll take the little bow out to the archery range and just leave it and the arrows on the table in the clubhouse. Maybe it will find its way to a mighty young marksman with a sharp eye, a strong arm, and a stout heart! HAR HAR HAR!

I will never hold my grandchild’s hands in mine. I’ll never make him or her a knife, or hand my guns off, or live in their hearts as a memory. But I’ll never have to worry about them, or get in the middle of family squabbles or grit my teeth seeing them raised in ways I might disagree with. I won’t be bankrupt at Christmas time, or have to cancel plans or trips to babysit. I am especially blessed by not having to answer for the bad life decisions made by my child. Broken chains can symbolize freedom too.

I suppose it all depends on which side of that chain you’re on, and what ya do while you’re there. Have yourselves a great New Year, y’all. Thanks to all that stop by to chat, and in a small way, make me part of your family as well. Old chains may break, but new ones can be forged.

Drop in again soon.


Filthie

Wednesday, 30 December 2020

Horse Women

 



It's too bad that
99.9% of equestrian women are also bat shit insane.
I wonder why that is...?

Oot And Aboot

 

I tour all the blogs of the cool kids - and some not so cool. One of my favourite cool kids is of course, Aesop. He never publishes my comments on his blog. Can't imagine why... I suppose it's well and good enough that we amuse each other. If we can't laugh... someone might be tempted to do something about someone else, if ya catch my drift. 

Then I saw this one up at Wirecutter's. 

It won't be long now. The chubby nurses twerking and dancing for tik tok videos, the fake scientists admonishing working people and putting them out of work and laughing about it. Did you see the cops in the article? And the health inspector? "I am only doing my job..." or "I have bosses to answer to..." or "I am only following orders..." When you start having to justify your actions that way... you really, REALLY need to stop, back up, and look at exactly what it is that you're doing. When You-Know-Who was making soap and lamp shades out of Joos - he had the full weight of the scientific community behind him. He could PROVE to you that Joos were subhuman animals and vermin, and his acolytes would nod their heads and go along... and do their jobs. So would the average German. Then, after the war, they all tried to blame everything on a small group of people and pretend that they had no idea what was going on. Maybe for some it was true, but most knew. They knew, and they did nothing about it. But history and science are lost on the sanctimonious morons driving this. They'll try to compromise with the evil and the stupid as long as they don't have to pay the consequences of it. They'll mix MORE politics in with science. It used to be okay loot, pillage and enslave your enemies because God was on your side, and you could PROVE it. Now you have science on your side - all ya gotta do is the same thing the bible thumper did: cook the books, tell a few white lies, get a few of the shysters and cool kids in on it... and away you go.

Somebody's gonna get shot soon. Or punched out. Or kissed with a baseball bat. The hell of that is that while they deserve it... their bosses deserve it even more. I don't intend to be around when it happens, or advocate violence... but stuff like this can only end one way.


Suck On It, You Capitalist American Pig Dogs!!!!

 


In Canada - we are saved!!
๐Ÿ˜Š๐Ÿ‘

And... seeing as how you’re doling out cash to pakies and Africans...
What about your good friends up in Canada, hmmmm?
Maybe we’ll have to wait for creepy Joe to have a senior’s moment!

Humpday Mish-Mash










 

What Kind Of Wheelgun Man Are You?

 





I have a couple single actions and love them. I also have that new sweet Ruger Redhawk that does .45 Colt/.45 ACP in moon clips. I’d love one of the Linebaugh 50’s on a Bisley frame though... along with the scotch and cigar...

Tuesday, 29 December 2020


I wonder if it’s legit.
They did it to potato chips: go down to the store and they have
nauseating chips in pickle, ketchup, pizza, chutney - you name it. And the 
halitosis people get from it can knock the buzzard off the outhouse
at 50 yards.
๐Ÿคข๐Ÿคฎ๐Ÿคข

One Ticket To Hell - Smokin' And Stinkin' All The Way!


 

Pretty Much The Way Of It...


 

The Cross Draw Holster?

 


Up here in Canada there is no licensed carry of handguns. Even if it was legal it’d only be something I’d do for fun. Years ago I got a wedgie from one of the cool blogger kids because I like the cross draw holster - both on the belt or in a shoulder holster. Of course this gun chick knew better and explained that such holsters would only get you killed. Apparently she was God’s gift to the shooting sports and paid good money to take courses in “run n’ gun” where they shoot obscenely large targets at close range and makes ‘em feel like Matt Dillon. Whatever - They all run those drop leg tactical gun fighter rigs. They would know, I guess.

Yet the other day, one of the retired law enforcement stubfarts on OyTube was saying the cross draw was a great way to carry a gun... especially large ones. It’s apparently great for guys that sit in cars or on their arses a lot... which would work just great for me!

Do any a you guys carry full size guns?

A Productive Afternoon

 





Yesterday I fired up the ol’ melting pot and got down to business with some long overdue casting. I had a length of old 4” lead sewer pipe knocking around the Reclusium for years... and there went the last of it. I fluxed the living chit out of it and the fumes stunk up the house and I got in shit with the wife. Lead fumes are much like chinkypox; yes they are toxic, and yes they can kill you... but their toxicity has been hyped and overblown by lunatics for years by people who don’t understand the concentrations and exposures needed to inflict harm. They wet their pants in fright and start pissing and moaning without informing themselves. My elders used to entertain themselves as children by making tiny lead soldiers the same way I make lead bullets today. They did it in the house, as often as not in the kitchen by the stove. You never hear of them getting lead poisoning. But their kids got it in droves supposedly from lead based paint or some damned thing. I will cast outside if I can... but right now it is too cold.

I gotta say I sure love wireless technology. Used to be that to get music in the shop a fella needed at least a cheap ghetto blaster and maybe a couple speakers. I got one of those blue tooth speakers that runs off my cell phone and it’s the size of a very small teacup. I was entertained all afternoon by Diana Krall and other lounge lizards and barflies, HAR HAR HAR!

The problem now is that my lead supplies are now exhausted. I hear of cagey casters scrounging stuff like wheel weights from the tire shops and such. Any of you fellas any good at scrounging? Where else can a fella find lead pipes or other sources of lead?

That should keep the 45-75 bottleneck running for awhile...but I need to find more lead soon. Such are the emergencies that confront the semi retired stubfart. For now, life is good.

Monday, 28 December 2020

Celebrity Watch: Aesop Spotted

 


Stupid bitch, HAR HAR HAR!!!
๐Ÿ˜†๐Ÿ‘

Conversations

 


I like Americans... but I love the Texans most of all!
๐Ÿ˜†๐Ÿ‘

Filthie Is Watching You!



Apparently this is first gen Soviet night vision equipment.


Faded Memories



Being a recluse and a hermit has spared me much of the pain of the Chinkypox. I suppose it is painful to watch people act like morons - but you can turn that off if you have to. But this morn... I really could have gone for going out for breakfast with the wife. Steak, eggs, a tankard of coffee...it has been awhile. Close to a year? 



I wonder what the Stampede and Klondike Days will be like this year? My first date with my wife as a kid was to K-Days. The king and queen of Edmonton's Klondike Days are Klondike Kate and Klondike Mike. Klondike Kate this year will be getting replaced by COVID Karen, HAR HAR HAR!!! HAR HAR HAR!!! And Klondike Mike will get a rolling pin across the noggin if Karen catches him with his mask down! HAR HAR HAR!!!

Oh well. Kate and Mike are nonessential now too. So are the pretty young gals that hyped such events. I will miss them as much as the steak and eggs and coffee on a lazy holiday morn.

Yannow what? I think I will be the judge of what is and what isn't essential from here on out! Anyone that would swap pretty young gals for old, bitchy harpies like Covid Karen... obviously ain't got their priorities right.

About That Bimb...

 


I see a lot of speculation about that Christmas ‘bimb’ that blew up in Nashville and about the only thing we know for sure is that nobody trusts the cops anymore. Theories are all over the place.

Bringing my formidable powers of observation and deduction to the table: 

The spin doctors have been suspiciously quiet. At first, this indicated to me that the event was therefore a diversion or distraction to divert the public attention away from something else going on. Kinda-sorta the way Cankles Clinton tried to blame the moslem chimp-out in Benghazi on some obscure YouTuber. Instead of focusing anger on white racists, all Cankles did was get mud and chit smeared all over her face from her botched handling of the affair. The moslems made it plain they hated her too, HAR HAR HAR!

But none of the usual suspects have come out with a narrative on this one. Pardon me; we haven’t seen one yet. Are the authorities sitting on something? 

Consider - this bomb warned potential victims to vacate before going off. It was sophisticated enough in design and execution that implies it could have been made far, far more powerful than it was, which would imply that the perps were pulling a punch. Obviously inflicting maximum carnage and body counts was not the goal.

The only other legit explanation I can fathom was that it was a message being sent by someone, to someone. And someone else received it and is sitting on it. Once we see the message we’ll know who the perp is.

Speculation:

The bogeyman for our Cloud People right now is white nationalism which is shitlibspeak for active white racism. The morons have it as number one on the list of national threats. To them, it’s even more dangerous than islamic terrorism, increasingly violent disaffected blacks, and growing problems with militant communist groups like ANTIFA. That’s why they sent 15 FBI agents to the NASCAR garages when some black baboon thought he saw a rope door pull with a noose on it. They’ve fallen for any number of race hoaxes while blacks openly assault white seniors with bricks, and juvie noglets play The Knockout Game for fun and nothing is said.

Could there actually be a white nationalist group finally on the scene to justify all this paranoia? And if there is, does this mean the ridiculous mediocrities we have for leaders have to fear them? I can see them hushing all that up... but I can see them blaring the news from the rooftops too, were it true.

Two things are for sure: they’re withholding information and whatever it is... it scares the hell out of them.

The Challenges Of Arranging A Proper Marriage


 

I used to be quite the match maker at one time. People’d bring me their tards and tardettes and I’d broker slick power marriages for them that left high society gossips agog! Did you know that Congress-chick with the donkey teeth is the product of one of my matches? You better believe it! Her real name is Alexandria-Occasio-Cortez-Di-La-Quartermain! True story!

I guess these guys are gonna try their own luck. I bet those two with their own cats will score first.

Does Anyone Actually Do This?




 Those are chestnuts, right? They kinda-sorta look like hazelnuts. It used to be up here in Canada that regular staples of holiday treats were variety packs of nuts, midget oranges from Japan, and dishes of Christmas candy. Here is a pro-tip: if an Englishman offers you one of his boxed chocolates... you politely decline. Those guys will make chocolate out of cow flops. And they’ll eat it and like it with relish... figuratively AND literally! ๐Ÿคข The tinned hard candy is generally good, some is utterly spectacular. Look for the tins with pics of the queen or those redcoat guys with the big tall black fur hats.

Getting back to the nuts, though - how does that work? Does the heat cause the shells to crack? Are they an good?

Sunday, 27 December 2020

That's Prime Marriage Material Right There, Fellas...


 

Happy Kwaaanza To All Our BLM Friends From Canada...

   From both our swine minister...





And from Yours Truly here at the Thunderbox! 




Via Chief Nose Wetter

 


Language warnings.
This poor lady has obviously had enough.
Neurotics and hypochondriacs are very tiresome people.


So let’s see now. This chick, who may or may not be fake news. The former head of the Royal Canadian College Of Pysicians. Any number of other boba fide medical professionals. And not one of them made the mainstream news. There was a time journalists would have knifed each other for ‘a scoop’. There was a time they asked the establishment darned tough questions. There was a time we would.

When You-Know-Who rises from the ashes and rekindles the Fourth Reich, and decides to make soap and lamp shades out of people again... he won’t need to send out Jack booted SS stormtroopers to round you up. You’ll hand over your gun to the caring authorities  and get on that train yourself. You’ll be going to a nice hospital where there’s a vaccine and trained, caring staff to give it to you. Relax. Put on your mask, this will be over soon. 

We are all in this together. 

How Many People Think Like This Now?



 They must number in the millions. Back when I dwelled uneasily in The Hive, Christian bashing was a popular pastime. Christians are hypocrites, superstitious, self righteous, unreasonable, etc etc ad nauseum. Looking back at the people that said these things was one of the first red pills for me. Most of them were projecting, word for word. It started getting old, and then insufferable. If you point this stuff out, the response is rage. Think of the Covidians and Covitards. the environmentalists, the social justice warriors, the feminists... GAH.

I’ve been through the Bible twice now, and haven’t seen one thing wrong with it. Sure, some of the mythology and dogma is hard to square with real science... but when you look at the state of “science” today? Porn is a lot more honest than most of our fake science too, if that means anything. 

Hope all is going well on your Sunday, and that you have something fun planned.

Cheers!

Saturday, 26 December 2020

Friendly Old Ghosts

 



I’ve been blessed because I’m old enough to have been around when the great gun writers were still around. Skeeter Skelton was one of my favourites and I used to smuggle gun rags into class at school. Rather than listening to the pin head teacher, I’d have the gun mag open and tucked in my binder so it looked like I was hard at work rather than goofing off. His articles were my favourite; he wrote about life as a marine, as a border patrol officer, I think he was with the DEA too. And he loved sixguns like I did!

He was a huge fan of the .44 Special and his everyday load was a 250 gr. cast lead semi wad cutter moving a smidge over 900 feet per second. I basically have my 45 Colt doing the same. He believed (as I do) that all serious pistols should carry serious precision adjustable sights. He believed in the advanced pistolcraft required to make the handgun as effective as a carbine in close quarters situations. He ran with the other big dogs of the day like Bill Jordan and Elmer Kieth. I always liked Boge Quinn too. I think he just passed recently too. My greatest memory of him was a vid where he was at a SHOT show or something similar, and they needed a volunteer for a taser demonstration. He was a big man and stepped up... and they lit him up too! HAR HAR HAR! They got him up on his feet afterward, but you could see the tweety birds and stars still flying around his head.

It’s sad to see these guys go. The world moves on, and eventually leaves us behind. I hope those guns they leave behind fall into the hands of good, strong young men with steady hands, sharp eyes, and stout hearts.


The Great Canadian Dindu

 Awesome. Lookit all the happy li'l Cannuckistanies frolicking and playing - until those dastardly police show up!!!! I can't breathe, eh!!!!

Our poor kids. I can tell you that if those tools ever gave me a fine for violating the idiot rules on their fake plague, you'd see our prime minister prancing around in pink socks before you'd see me paying it!!!!

Errrrr.... bad example.

You know what I mean!!! ๐Ÿ˜ ๐Ÿ˜ ๐Ÿ˜ 

An Interesting Pie Fight

 Awhile back We got into a real interesting discussion over at BP’s regarding the nature of revolution. Some a the boys said that radical revolutions are triggered exclusively from and for the underclass. the underclass. They’ve got ammo for their argument: most communist/socialist revolutions go that way, where the disenfranchised underclass turn on the ruling class and liquidate them. Based on my outhouse knowledge of history, those tend to fail or succeed on the pragmatism of the revolutionaries: the ones run exclusively by the peasants invariably take marginally dysfunctional countries and turn them into banana republics. The more sensible ones will incorporate much needed elements of the ruling class.

I take exception to the fellas. In WW2, Adolph was middle class. His goons were mostly solid middle class or even aristocracy; uneducated peasants do not build jet engines, Messerschmidts, or submarines. They create unstable countries like Venezuela, Haiti, or pisslamic shiteholes like Iraq  and Afghanistan. The same would have happened in the USSR and China, had not the elite socialists stepped in to preserve the much needed elements of the previous order.




In this entertaining vid, the kids explore an abandoned US military installation and discuss one of the final naval battles of WW2. The kraut skippering the U Boat was a 24 year old kid. I know nothing about naval affairs... but to my mind, the only way a kid gets into a position like that is if he’s a member of the upper class.

It’s an interesting subject in these days of rampant corruption and fiery rhetoric as our nations divide and die under the leadership of mediocrities, morons and outright degenerates. What will tomorrow’s amateur historians make of us?

The Retarded Modeller


When I was a kid my parents
couldn’t buy me models
because stuff like this always happened...

๐Ÿ˜–

Boxing Day Breakfast Suggestion


You can lay around and fart all day
afterward...

๐Ÿ˜‰๐Ÿ‘

 

๐ŸŽผShe WasOnly 16 ๐ŸŽถ Only16...๐ŸŽต

 



Funny how the old farts like du Toit are reduced to love sick balladeers when they spy a 16 guage. My dad will too. It really is gross to watch the geezers perving out in an almost sexual fashion - somebody should say something. I would, but I am an old geezer too but I am too polite. I’ve never seen 16 guage ammo outside of pictures, and only held an actual 16 bore once. For me the 20 guage does well for my needs, and if I had it to do again I’d go 28 guage or maybe even .410. For guys like me, smaller is bigger.



I suppose that for the old guys, ballistics and performance are not the issue. Nostalgia may be inefficient - but it charms the heart and warms the soul.


......



Today we aren’t moving that fast. Yesterday my wife cooked a 7 course meal and was at it all day. I ate it... groan. Before supper, though, I was out and about. It isn’t my imagination, folks are saying Merry Christmas again. I also saw a few rebels gathering in numbers and defying this pandemic fakery, and it made me glad. It really was a bizarre day. I went shooting out at the archery club outdoors because it was so warm. I haven’t bent the bow since they locked down our indoor facility ... and I figured I’d be alone and shooting like a dawg. 

But neither was the case, I set up some lids off those cottage cheese containers at 60 yards for targets and shot like a champ. There was a lonely kid there and I guess I impressed him enough that he came over to see what I was shooting and check my equipment out. It was downright balmy. 

Today I’m going to relax and kinda-sorta try and get my bearings. I’ve been out of work since the chinkypox started. I’m now nonessential, irrelevant and old. I can still do what I always did... but I don’t want to. I’m spiritually lost. I can do anything I want, go anywhere (within reason)... but part of me says I should be working for a living and it induces feelings of guilt. When I was younger I thought I would have found my place in the world by now... but sometimes I feel as lost and disoriented as I did when I was 16. There’s gotta be more to life than zipping your lip, being quiet and staying out of the way? 

If that is to be my lot... I am going to have to find creative ways to do that. Maybe that is a worthy goal for the new year. 

I hope your Christmas was grand, that Santa treated you well... and that good things are on your calendar for the new year. Thanks for stopping by.

Thursday, 24 December 2020

Black Christmas



I’ve been accused of being a racist in the past. I just 
want to put those claims away by saying I approve of everything in this pic.
I approve of ethnic food and watermelon. Pistols make
EXCELLENT gifts for everyone! 
And finally... not naming any names here... but more
of us need to use foot powder for our stinky feet, TB...

Merry Christmas

 



I hope the kids drag you out of bed at 5:00 am.
I hope the wife makes bacon, eggs, and hash browns after the gifts are opened.
I hope the kids come home, and that the old lady starts cooking around 11:00.
I hope your day is filled with noise, barking dawgs and crazy little ones.
I hope you have the sense to keep your coffee and your booze separate.




A Christmas Post Card From Coopville

 


Hmmmmm. I don't appreciate the toilet theme of this one; it comes dangeroulsy
close to infringing on the intellectual grounds of 
The Thunderbox.
I shall have to consult with the lawyers.

A Thunderbox Christmas Carol



The days and seasons fly now. It's Christmas again. But the world is different somehow. It's really happening, isn't it? The wheels are coming off. Fake news. Fake elections. Fake pandemics. Fake recovery plans. Fake scandals. It comes in a torrent, faster than I can process. It won't be long now. The ridiculous fops, freaks, and flimps that pose as our leaders are unleashing economic and sociological  forces they can never hope to understand, much less control. Add in any personal losses... and yeah, it's been a real pish cutter.

Amidst all the noise and pandemonium a certain small - almost inaudible note of defiance - from up here in politically correct Canukistan: everyone, everywhere, is saying Merry Christmas again. Even the freaky young girl at the gun shop with tats and face jewelry said it the other day. I almost wanted to hug her but I think she'd have been grossed out if I did. She did flash me a quick smile when I wished her one back. It made my day. 

Likewise... I'd like to wish you a heartfelt Merry Christmas. I know some of you are in for a rough ride this season, with woes and losses of your own. If I could, I'd push every ounce of strength I could at you through the computer. If you are having a rough go at the holiday season, take comfort... you have fans here at the Thunderbox and with our Maker Upstairs. This is a Christmas where we will celbrate what we have, and not dwell on that that we don't. Behave yourselves - and keep yer stick on the ice.

Cordially yours, 

Filthie

Wednesday, 23 December 2020

Pistolcraft?

 


...or sleight of hand?

The Filthie Shade Tree Mechanic: We Should Nuke Japan Again

As a kid growing up on the farm around machines, the rule of the ranch was YOU DID NOT MESS AROUND WITH MACHINES LEST YE FACE RETRIBUTION. My dad was a master mechanic that could start seized engines with a dirty look, and he flipped the hell out if us kids made more work for him trying to fix stuff ourselves. If your car or motorcycle was running like a POS, and Pop happened by - that thing would purr like a tamed kitten, fearful of invoking the wrath of the The Grand Magus Of Machines. As a kid I came literally within a hair of going after the Ford farm truck with my Mini 14. That good for nothing sonofabitch laid down and left me stranded more times than I could count, and poor Pop told people I wasn't born right because every time he looked at it, it ran just fine. I haven't bought a Ford since, and never will again. Whatever those unionized pooch screwers on the assembly line are doing.. it ain't right. Nowadays it's even worse. Pop won't do anything with engines anymore because there are so many proprietary tools, sealed assemblies, electronic modules, microprocessors and computers going on, that if you don't know what you're doing, you can get in darned serious trouble and rack up some expensive repair bills. I thought I was smart when I bought a new battery for the Dawgmobile. I went on the innernet and in seconds, I had the right battery selected for it. Since I had no idea what battery specifications were or what they meant, I decided to learn myself all about that too. I learnt that for an '08 Toyota Tacoma, they went from a group 24F to a 27F - and that was the dimensional specification of the footprint of the battery required. Once I had a handle on that I knew enough about amps and ohms already - and went down to NAPA. The goofs tried to sell me a 24F and didn't have any 27F's so I went to the dealership and bought my battery there. They tried to sell me a 27F conversion kit for an extra $35.00 but I caught that too. I was pretty impressed with my mechanical accumen at that point. When I went to put the fuggin thing in - sheesh, what a pain! They put these little plastic protectors on the terminals and it takes pure road rage to get them off! I got so damned mad I took a razor knife to them and peeled them off. Once it was in the terminals clamped up properly, but the fuggin retainer was a royal PITA. It has to fit exactly just so... and you have to hold your face right, and pray to the right mechanical gods - before it snaps into position and you can tighten it up. I know I am a tard, but good grief, it took me a half hour to get that thing in!!! Friggin Japs and their mechanical bastidry!!!! They're as bad as our domestic damnable dullards that build cars local!!!! In reality I can't gripe ... the last battery went for 12 years so it didn't owe me anything. But I'll tell ya - this is where I really, really respect our tradesmen. It's only -8C today and my hands froze solid. My dad, back in his day, would crack engines - from jet engines on down - in -30F!!! Max Ward was forever sending him up north when he was a kid to get aircraft going that were frozen up rock solid. He could fiddle with tiny screws and bolts in that kind of weather with his bare hands. I don't get it. My hands freeze up in -8C. I admit it. I am a pussy! In any event, the Dawgmobile is up and running again - and me and my faithful K9 sidekicks are ready to deploy and fight senior delinquent crime anywhere, any time! You old buggers are reminded to watch your P's n' Q's...because we are always on duty! Have a great Humpday y'all! After Dawg Patrol... I am taking my old battery down to the shop. I guess they work like beer bottles now, you get a refund if you bring the old one in! I am getting 18 bucks! Woo hoo! A veritable fortune for the penniless stubfart! Take care - and thanks for dropping in.

Are Ya Stimulated Yet...?

Guys I just don't get it. I have no idea how these people think. I guess The Bad Orange Man is in trouble because he told the Donks to shove their pork Covid recovery plan up their collective hole. He's the bad guy, apparently. The version of the story I have up here in Canada was that the document was 5000 pages long and the people that voted for it had HOURS to read it, mull it over, and decide whether they would vote for it. Regardless of your politics, in such a situation you would have to vote 'NO'. Would you sign a contract before reading it and making sure you understand it? Then I saw this pin head on Blab mouthing off about it. Why is it so hard to get needy Americans $600.00? In Canada and New Zealand, we get $600.00 a WEEK!!!! Stupid Americans!!! Not only do we get $600.00 a week, our oh-so-benevolent gubbimint is gonna restart small business - with MORE debt!
Hmmmmmmmmm. Your a small business man who mortgaged his life to start his business. You lost everything in the Covid panic. But - don't worry!!! You can take out a second mortgage on your future and try again! In a political environment where you can be shut down over the seasonal cold and flu! Line forms on the right! No pushing! No shoving!!! One at a time!!!! Our grandkids will be paying for this and hating us for it.

Apes... Together... Strong

Engineering Units

What Are These Things?

Are they knuckle pads? What is their purpose? Why would you want to bind them up like that? Back when my brother was into martial arts he had this weird beatin' board...I guess they'd punch at it to de-sensitize their knuckles and hands to toughen them up...

For Those Of You Facing A Tough Christmas...

Phil can fix anything, and recommends an attitude adjustment, HAR HAR HAR! I might add a helpful hint of my own: a lot of you are like me and regard computers and smartphones with contempt and suspicion. I know it is a cliche - but these are two enemies you want to keep very, very close. They are nothing more than elaborate power tools, and if you let them get away from you - well of course it won't go well! Respect the tool, and learn when and where to use it! During the first lockdown, our mealy mouthed swine minister decreed that the casinos, the gay bath houses and the peeler bars were safe from COVID, but the churches were not. It was the typical flip of the bird that liberals take at Christians but ours just soaked it up and took it in stride. I think the utiility is called "Zoom" or something like that. It allows groups of people to meet right over the internet in real time on their cell phone vids. The wife and her friends were talking with their whole gang and even had some of you Yanks looped in. You can do it right over the cell phone! I suppose it's like Skype or something like that only easier to set up. If you are really missing your loved ones - if ya jump on it now you should be able to get it up and running before Christmas - and you can do the same thing and loop your family together for Christmas. If you suck at computers as I do - reach out to the young ones in the family and they should have you up and running in no time flat. It's a pain - but it beats the hell out of missing the ones you love. Use your tools, folks. Don't let them use you. There is a pleasant note of rebellion up here these days - everyone is saying Merry Christmas again. I never stopped - I don't care a fig what the usual suspects think - but it is good to see others dispensing with them and their cultural fascism too. I definitely do not want to say it that way to those of you that stop by The Thunderbox on occasion, though - to you I want to say it with love, respect, and thankfulness. I wish you and yours a very, very Merry Christmas, and hope you have the happiest New Year. You certainly deserve it.

Tuesday, 22 December 2020

Too Tasteless?

Blogger Sucks

Well it looks like blogger's shat the bed again. I picked up a spammer and I'm damned if I can block it. For now all I can do is comment moderation. It'd be much easier if you could just automatically block individuals... but there doesnt seem to be a means of doing so. For now please forgive the comment moderation. I don't mind idle threats, verbal abuse and trolling... but I can't stand third world scammers.