Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude
Old World Solutions To New Age Sewage Problems

Wednesday, 28 September 2016

Good Morning Dick Face

Poor bugger. I know how he feels. Once I went on a three day bender and passed out behind the goat shed on PP's farm. While I was out some wank drew a big cack on my forehead (I think it was Chicken Mom that did it, to be honest) and everyone laughed at me for months afterward.

I've been (mostly) sober ever since!


Couldn't post yesterday. Uncle Bob fired up the short bus for the stupid kids, loaded us all on and took us on a field trip to a military museum.

It took Quartermain the better part of the day to sound and cipher it out for the rest of us, but eventually he figured it out.

The largest battleship ever put to sea, the Japanese mega warships of the Yamato class, carried armor up to 26-inches thick. While no Iowa class battleship ever fought a Yamato, a section of 26-inch armor plate for these Japanese beasts was found at Kure Naval Base after World War 2. Settling a great historic ‘what if’, the plate was shipped to the US Naval Proving Ground in Dahlgren, Virginia and in tests, was shot at by a 16-inch/50cal armor-piercing round. The results? Zipped right through it like butter. To ensure bragging rights, the armor is on display at the US Navy Museum just in case anyone asked to see the math.

So I asked Wirecutter what a 16-inch/50 cal armour piercing round was, and he told me it was prolly a 16" artillery round necked down to .50 cal. Then Stackz. O. Mags started perving out and wanted to place an order for gun chambered in it.

I just shook my head. Those guys are so fuggin dumb: if anyone ever actually DID make a shell like that, it undoubtedly would launch its projectile at supra-relativistic velocities and a fella could theoretically end up shooting himself in the back with it yesterday!

Well! That pissed Stackz off, and he told me I was full a chit so we tried to get hold of some obscure bum in England named Stephen Hawkings who supposedly knows all about time, space, mathimatrics n fizicks.

So far he hasn't returned our calls.

Monday, 26 September 2016

There's No Humbuggery About It, Really

Here in the blogosphere we are blessed with the voices of our elders. Some are real treasures because they've gotten old but they haven't lost their youth. I've got WC and CM up on the blogroll for that exact reason. They've got all the miles I have plus some - but they're still in the game with the same zeal and zest of a teenager. Teenagers (the good ones) don't care about profit margins, spreadsheets and investment/return ratios - they put in 110% and anything that comes back is good enough - and maybe worth even MORE investment. They're always doing something. Other folks, when they get old - get mean and stupid. Then they wonder why they're lonely and nobody wants to be around them. I don't want to be like that.

Recently I discovered Mom over at Mom's Scribbles and I swear I can hear the voice of my Grandma when she speaks. She's a different stripe of cat - she is older and engaged and still in the game too, but she has a lot of practical common sense to pass along and she knows how to do it in a friendly, entertaining manner. She's clean and respectable all the way too. I suspect she would take that for granted, but that's a rare thing these days. She's going up on the blog roll when I get the time.

I also have been searching for a proper mature male role model that I can aspire to be and emulate when I finally grow up. Uncle Bob and Quartermain are out - I'm probably not supposed to be hanging around senior delinquents like that. BW's about the same age I am and he probably shouldn't be hanging around me come to think about it. (I maintain he is just as corrupted and incorrigible as I am but most adults would probably disagree).  Pickin's are slim!

Then I discovered Gorges. How do ya pronounce that? In any event, he is thumbing his nose at most charities and social organizations that formerly did good work and for all the right reasons.

It broke my heart when he started talking about the Scouts. He's absolutely right and hardly anyone younger than he is would have the balls or courage to admit it. As the father of a warm, beautiful daughter that later became and angry, bitter lesbian social justice warrior...all I got to add is that if there were anything GOOD about political correctness, homosexuality/equality/social justice in our lives and organizations ... I would have found it. God knows I looked, but the only way any of that bullshit flies is if you deny reality and throw away your morals and ethics in the process. I am lucky I suppose, in that I'm old enough to know the cost of doing that and refuse to do so... largely because I was influenced by better people in better times. Are queers any happier now that they have gay marriage? Are blacks any happier with bigger welfare checks, affirmative action and Obamaphones? The fuckers are rioting in the streets now!

I like Gorges' common sense and his refreshing honesty - and he'll be going up on the Toilet Roll shortly too.

Mondays Are Like Tha- Oy!

Saturday, 24 September 2016

Saturday Morning Steam For Chicken Mom

Oh man. This is Valhalla!

Or - it would be for me, I can imagine her poor hubby doesn't need the extra hassles that go along with a steam powered shop with all the other chores he has to do! But - back in the day, if the intrepid farmer wanted to get anything done - it was steam or manual labour! This would have been the height of luxury!

Can you imagine the fun and mayhem us guys would have in this shop? I would be happy to stoke the boiler up, set down beside it with a cup of tea and just watch the machines work.

Ya know what I love about this though? You crash a CNC machine - and you're in really deep trouble! You'll need a specialist out to diagnose and repair it and you are gonna be down for days. But this stuff here? It was meant to be worked on and maintained.

Back when I worked at the Alberta Research Council we had some dirty old kraut of a tech that bent instrument tubing like an artist. He was probably the son of Werner Von Braun or even Adolph Hitler himself because if you got a blockage anywhere on something he had worked on - and had to take it apart...good luck! Making things maintainable is a skill we have deliberately thrown away in the 21st century. Machines go down - it's a rule like death, taxes and the common cold. Why in heck aren't we building our machines to be repaired? They shouldn't require a specialists either! Computers can diagnose themselves, they can damned well tell the layman what's wrong and how to fix it too! It's only algorithms and programming.

I wonder if I can get a job apprenticing in that shop...?


Goddammit. I keep getting sick! That's twice now in one summer! Jeez Louise.

Last night I cut a fart so bad it woke me up and I think it knocked the wife out. Then at 3:00am I started to fart and didn't finish until 4:00! Then, finished with the gas...the squirts came. GAH!! We're doing some home reno work so we have no spare bedroom for me to sleep in.

I wanted to go fly today but I think the Crapcopter will be grounded until my guts settle down. This is the last time I eat anything outta the garbage cans behind Uncle Bob's Treehouse.

Friday, 23 September 2016

Filthie's Speakeasy

It's Friday. I'm wiping down the bar with the consummate skill developed over years of long practice. The usual crowd is here and I idly ponder the regulars as I go about my work. Uncle Bob has had it - he used to be able to knock them back in the day, but now? A half a quart of Bell's - and his head hits the bar and off he goes to La-La Land. I should call the cops and have him thrown in the piss tank but he actually prefers to sleep it off behind the dumpster in the urine-soaked back alley. Quartermain and I will drag him out at closing time and make sure he has some cardboard to sleep on and a ratty blanket to keep him warm.

Whatever. This is the glamourous night life to which I'm addicted.

Three guys walk in. Not cops - I can spot them a mile away... but maybe G-Men? They gotta be, what with the sun glasses and dark suits. They scope out the dump, nod at each other and then one of 'em starts talking into his wrist. Then he comes up and orders a Shirley Temple.

"Seriously?" I said.

"Just do it," the guy says. Great. A Shirley Temple? What is that anyways? My customers drink gasoline and lighter fluid! What are ya gonna do? So I start mixing up something fruity and gay when this black dude walks in the door.

"Who's the spade?" I ask.

"Seriously?" the spook responds. "Whatever," says I, and go back to mixing up something that might or might not be a Shirley Temple. As I work though I notice the guy has a parrot on his shoulder. Perfect conversation opener, right?

"Hey Pal," I said, nodding at the parrot - "that is pretty cool! Where did you get him?"

And the parrot goes, "Africa! They're all over the place!"


Sadly, this is what passes for humour at Filthie's speakeasy. But rather than conversing about unsavoury people who aren't fit to shine shoes in a whorehouse - let us concentrate instead on tonight's issue at hand: Whose the world's coolest female musician? I have to ask because WC and CW seem to think this woman has a shot:

If you could somehow manage to speed up Old Slowhand - he might
sound something like this.

I'm gonna throw this one in because I have a thing for the bass too, and cool young ladies.

Maybe not as talented at Kinga...?

Tracy has my vote but I don't know if she's
eligible. She might have retired...

Just a couple to pave the way for the weekend. My vote, as always, goes to Tracy.