Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

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

Friday, 30 September 2016

Friday Night Rite Of Passage


From time to time Unca Bob expounds on the importance of Rites Of Passage (note the caps). These are life's events that mark milestones or transitions of great import - and are so important, that in some cases they should be ritualized and celebrated. He's right when he says we no longer observe the importance of them - and that it hurts us.


So who's Right Of Passage is this, anyways? One is tempted to say it belongs to the boy. He's about to form one of the most important bonds of his boyhood and assume responsibility for the mutt. The mutt will repay the boy tenfold for his investment.

But there's prolly one in there for the man too. Giving your son or grandson a dog is no small decision. Only a responsible elder can take up such a question and resolve it the way it should be.

I would like to think it went well for these three.

Poultry Problems Plague Park People




When chickens attack!

There's no need for alarm everyone! Charlie and The Gang are enroute now and will take this vicious bird into custody and restore order soon! Everyone stay calm and in doors until the authorities have had a chance to deal with the issue!

Friday F-Tards: Industrial Slovenliness 101







It's a crappy cell phone pic but if ya look over into the next yard, you can barely see a blue garbage can on the right with a green fork lift behind it.

Ya know how when the kitchen garbage can is full, you just stomp the pile down to compact it so ya don't have to empty it? And hope you aren't the poor slob that has to empty it when it becomes impossible to squish it down any more? That is what the guy on the fork lift is doing! He slung up a massive concrete traffic barrier - and he lifts it up and drops it repeatedly in the garbage bin to cram every last morsel into it as deeply as possible! HAR HAR HAR! Then, when some poor schmuck has to empty it ... he's gonna need a crow bar to pry all the garbage out! HAR HAR HAR! Awesome! What kind of idiot does something like that? You would have to take the time to sling up the concrete barrier, and bugger around at the garbage can for a half hour. What is the waste management company gonna do when they can't dump it?

It's called an industrial trash compactor, morons. Sheesh!

Judged By The Company We Keep


In an effort to appear more respectable I often hang out on the fringes of the cool kids and pose as an active member of their little cliques. It doesn't work; I remain deplorable and disreputable for the most part - and people looking on might (rightfully) question the judgement of the cool kids when they have me in their midst.

Oh well. Sucks to be them I suppose.

The usual preamble applies: my opinions, sense of humour (or lack thereof) in no way reflects the views or opinions of the scholars that appear on the Toilet Roll. Say what you want about me - but the people that appear on my blogroll are all first rate folks that you can set your watch and warrant to. I have many flaws - but my taste in bloggery is second to none, and I will not trifle with phonies, poseurs and low quality intellects.

Gorges and Mom don't know me from a hole in the ground - but I know and love them and the way they write. If you haven't sampled their blogs - that is a mistake you need to fix ASAP.

Thursday, 29 September 2016

Of Frogs And Flags


They must have decoder rings, seekrit handshakes and probably a glee club too! It's official: the bedwetters, pissers and moaners at Social Justice Central (errrr... the ADL....the Anti Defamation League)...have added another hate symbol to the list!


Congratulations to Pepe The Frog!
Keep up the good work son!


I've been wondering about Pepe. If you're old and stupid like me you've probably seen this cute little fella around the internet and when he does show up (say - at a Trump rally) the Usual Suspects lose their shit! As an old fart I would watch this and just smile... but it bothers me to be disconnected with the times, so I did a little digging.

Here's the story: apparently he's your typical harmless cartoon character that starred in an innocent cartoon strip a couple years back. I've never seen him - but again, I'm old and live under a rock. The story is that a bunch a ignorant, mean, hatey racists started posting pics of him supporting their cause and he went from a children's cartoon character to being Adolph Hitler personified.

Ya just can't stop when the comedy is on 'MILD'. I did some more digging and found out that the guys who were using wholesome cartoon characters to spread hateyness - were pretty much everyday slobs like you and I. And all the hatey things Pepe was doing?



I don't see anything inappropriate here. Stuff
like that is standard behaviour in places like San Fransico, Hongcouver
and Toronto! Are those Chelsea Clinton's panties...? GAH!
Apparently this is the stuff of hatred. My question is - against whom?

I guess Pepe belongs to the Bad Kids now. You know - the same kind of scoundrels that fly flags like this:


I can see why this offends. It is reminiscent of better times and better people. It
makes angry stupid people feel bad about themselves.

The closest thing we have to that here in Canada is the Red Ensign. The difference between us Canukistannies and you Yanks is that our dummies up here are too damned stupid to feel bad about themselves, and the vast majority of them are so fuggin dumb - they think they're smart! Most of them wouldn't know what to make of the flag of our grandfathers.


Canada fell to the forces of political correctness and liberal ass hattery long ago. I see the people driving this bullshit and I really feel for you Americans. But sadly there's just nothing to be done. Nowadays when some idiot threatens me with their potentially hurt feelings - I hurt them anyway. Awhile back I had an old senior reader come on my blog and say a bunch of nasty things about my wife and her friends because they were Christians. Ordinarily - we let stuff pass because we don't want to rock the boat or offend anyone. But I made it a point to trek over to that old bastard's blog and give it right back to him in spades. He was shocked. When he whined that he was offended I just said "Who cares?" He didn't like that - but he finally shut his hole.

I figure if a bunch of socialists, marginal idiots and sexual degenerates are going to be proud of who they are, I will too and if they don't like it they can go pound sand. It's time to push back.

Bull Pup Porn

Bullpups - for guys that can't let go of NERF...

I'm one of those gun geeks that goes for unconventional guns as well as regular ones. It doesn't get much more unconventional in the gun world than bullpups. They've been around for decades and the Euros went for them whole hog, but out west here... they don't sit well with a lot of gunners.

I don't have much experience with them. I bought an Israeli Tavor rifle - same as those two that are second and third down in the pic. I carefully reloaded for it and shot it for a few years ... and that was enough for me. My impression of them is that they are an excellent fighting gun or a fine noise maker for the run-n-gun crowd.  Accuracy was right on par with your average service rifle. I never got comfortable behind that gun though - and figure that if I'm gonna shoot a mouse gun - might as well shoot the true blue AR15. I bought one of those chopped stubbies and play with it but that isn't 'my' rifle either. Right now 'my' rifle is a Springfield Armoury M1A. Old school, not very cool - but it works for me.

A Couple A Queers

...barged in on our Home Economics class at Retard School yesterday and noticed we were all learning everything we needed to know about baking. BW was covered in flour, PP got his nose caught in a mixer, and WL had fallen asleep under the table. They were so impressed with us that they asked our teacher, Mrs. Chubster, if she could have the class bake a wedding cake for them.

She said sure! It would be a great way to learn us all about diversity, acceptance and political correctness! We'd all bake a cake and the queers could pick the winner and we could all go celebrate ourselves.


I got a strap and a three day suspension for this.
Some rot about racism and that they aren't even a cake or gay enough.
Hell's bells! They're cupcakes, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.



Wirecutter got a spanking and expelled for inappropriate baking. I
can see it - that is definitely NOT a cake...
but otherwise I see no problems. Oh well, screw him, he's white and
male so he obviously deserves his punishment!

The rest of the class did little better. Turns out we're ALL racists, bigots, homophobes, sexists and other perverts and losers and that everything we do, right down to and including breathing - is offensive!

Who knew?

Thankfully we had one success. Quartermain saved the day with his Social Justice Warrior Bundt Cake - in all the frooty colours of the rainbow!



Have a good Thursday, y'all! Don't forget to shame us for our foolishness!  ;)

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!

Holes



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...?

Ugh...

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!"

HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR!

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.

Culture Corner: Friday Ode To Joy In Glock Minor




Well as far as music goes - that settles the 'revolver vs. auto' argument. I personally think it woulda sounded better in .45 major. Have a good Friday...

I Dunno How They Did It


The level of trust and teamwork required to do something like that is not readily apparent to folks that have never been around horses. While I am no equestrian athlete and never was - we had hobby horses when I was a kid and I did a little bit of riding.

The horse is a funny critter. They are not as loving as cats and dogs and any bond you form with them is much, much different. I think the bonds I formed with them resembled the bonds between humans much more so than the bonds between a human and a dog.

I sometimes think idly that the world would be a better place if we threw out our cars and went back to horseback and walking.


Only In The Sick, Twisted Mind Of A Woman




Only a woman could do something as unconscionable as this.

Which is why, when Uncle Bob, Quartermain, and Wirecutter start rolling around on the ground whimpering and gasping - I will be the last one they suspect! HAR HAR HAR!

Wednesday, 21 September 2016

Wednesday Sound Effects



When I was a kid the sun rose and set on the guys that produced MAD Magazine. I don't think you could even come close to running a crew like that today what with political correctness and all. Some fag or hairy chested femcnut would have a bird at that kind of humour nowadays. Let there be no doubt for the younger crowd though: the cartoon artists at MAD were all pretty much certifiable and us kids loved them all in spite of it!

Little kids really get off on slapstick humour and I was no exception. Poor Pop couldn't get ANY work outta me if The Stooges were on. Pop didn't watch much TV and I remember him almost spitting in disgust as he watched those morons as the capered about on TV! And he sure as HELL had no patience for my MAD Magazines. He threatened to cut off my allowance if I kept buying them but by then my Mom and brother found out about MAD and they would buy them if I didn't! Pop was forced to resign in defeat.

Awhile back Wirecutter ran an article on his blog about some chick that butted out her cigarette in her boyfriend's eye - and he was horrified. FAH! That was kid stuff to Don Martin over at MAD.


Just as that was kid stuff to Don, so were our shop classes where we experienced our first industrial accidents, and intramural sports where we got beat up after school.


A true visionary, Don Martin foresaw and lampooned the rise of epidemic, chronic obesity and Orca Winfrey decades before they became problems. HAR HAR HAR!


Likewise, Don predicted the development of Obamacare too.


But the sound effects. The wonderful sound effects. Only a kid knows what a coke bottle to the side of the head sounds like: THADOOONT!!!! HAR HAR HAR! Or sounds of common culinary mishaps us kids commonly had in the kitchen.



Comedy gold for a 9 year old! Or for a 52 year old knucklehead that refuses to grow up! So today, seeing as how it's Hump Day - I am going to mix things up: Guess what is making THIS special sound effect:

Awk-squeeeeeeek! Awk-squeeeeeeek! Awk-squeeeeeeek! (Answer below)
























Keep yer stick on the ice. Fonebone (and Filthie) are watching you!




Ladies And Gentlemen: We Are At DEFCON 1


The unthinkable has happened! May God have mercy on us all! Perhaps that isn't enough? I suppose it falls on me. I will take responsibility for this act, before Congress and before God.

Scramble two F16's out of the Aleutian Islands. Target is COOPVILLE. Repeat: Target is COOPVILLE. Confirm receipt of message and execute Priority 1 21 September 2016



Goddammit. We better do Japan again too.

Boomer SSBN USS MICHIGAN: authorization and authentication codes to follow. Target multiple warheads 1 through 4 on Tokyo, 5 through 10 on Nagasaki - and fire the rest at Ottowa, Washington and Tofield!

JFC. I am gonna need a .45 to get that damned ear worm out. And before anyone says it - screw you too!!!

It may not look like it to the bed wetters and snivellers... but this is a mercy we do this day...

Tuesday, 20 September 2016

Which Explains The Need For Licensed Concealed Carry And A Ban On Moslems




A Dimension Of Sight And Sound...


Ooops! Sorry everyone! It's only your average fine day in Coopville...

True North



Lookit the tats on that kid! The TATS, you fuggin pervert, not the ti - errrrrmmm...
Yannow I think I am hanging round guys like Quartermain and Uncle Bob
too much. It's corrupting my mind. I used to be a nice guy with a personality as clean
and pure as the driven snow...
But now I think I'm turning into a pervert too!
Donuts and coffee are part of the Canukistani national identity
and I've perverted both! Tuesday is off to a great start!

A Dangerous Faggot Indeed...


This is what that pebble looks like as it lightly, quietly skips down the mountainside - in stark contrast to the thundering, massive landslide to follow.

As I've said before, I am right in line with the Alt-Right when it comes to their enemies. We're talking about the sexual degenerates, the greasy elderly hippies, and the unemployable Marxists and socialist types and their ilk. It's the guys I have to ally with that give me the creeps. I think Milo is more a bitchy faggot than a dangerous one... but you go to battle with the people you have, not the ones you want. I am no fan of queers - but that kid is speaking to his peers... and I gotta admit his message resonates with me too. I personally think the election is all over. Hillary is going to lose and she damned well deserves to - as do the shit birds that support her.

My mother is an arrogant bitch of a liberal and I can just hear her sneering at the kids in that audience too. She would make fun of the fact that most are probably cellar dwellers with no jobs, no homes, no prospects and no families - because they're lazy, stupid and unambitious. She said things like that about me 30 years ago and today the old bitch says it about her grandsons - and the next time that stunned bint goes off like that I am going to make a point of telling her to shove it up her fat ass!

When you look at the kind of people that critique our young men like that - most are like my Mom. My mother got a grade 12 education. She learned to type and got a job as an assistant secretary in an elementary school. She stayed there for 14 or 15 years, had the summers off - and thought she worked hard. Then she got transferred into Family & Social Services in the County and did another 15 years there. She made more money but had to trade the long summers off for Golden Fridays. Not bad for a high school graduate, if you ask me! Today she enjoys a posh retirement in a huge house with a gold plated pension that her great grandchildren will be paying for. She thinks she's hard done by sometimes and that she deserves more because she worked so hard for all those years!!!

The young men in that audience are royally and utterly fucked because of selfish boomers exactly like my mother. Even when corrected for inflation, any house they buy today will be three to five times more expensive than the ones the Boomer generation bought back in the 60's and 70's. Thanks to sexual equality and discriminatory hiring practices, those kids will have a devil of a time finding a job, and their wages will be much lower thanks to a glutted job market. On top of that, we are headed into a financial meltdown. It's not a matter of 'if' - bue 'when'. It will be on their watch, the math tells us that much.

I watched the young men applauding in that vid - and they have no futures unless somebody, somewhere pulls some strings or they know somebody that can. I hate the boomer generation for what they've done - but my generation is no better. We could have built that wall, we could have kicked politicos like Barkie Obutthole to the curb - but we let a bunch of stupid, marginal people tell us what to say and think and now?  Here we are. Yannow... most normal people want to leave a better world for their kids. What in hell is going on with these liberal assholes?

The next time you want to laugh at or ridicule our young men - take a step back and think about who raised them, who betrayed them and who robbed them of their birthright. You can't keep good men down and when these guys finally have had enough and reassert themselves - there's a lot of stupid people that are going to regret treating them like shit.

Monday, 19 September 2016

Update From The World's Smallest Hangar

Awhile back I was trying to do a DIY multirotor drone called a Y6 - meaning it had the 'Y' configuration with 6 motors. The problem is that the guys that engineered the kit pooped the bed on the motors and props - long story short, I couldn't build the machine I wanted with the materials supplied. I even went on a number of internet forums and once everyone was familiar with what I was trying to do - they concluded it couldn't be done either. The guys that offered the kit were gobsmacked and embarrassed.

No big deal - I am a rotor hound so I just tore it all apart, resoldered and reconfigured the flight computer and went back to my tried n' true V Tail multirotor.


We've got an updated video camera, a massive 6400mAh battery
and some other heavy lift technologies going on this time.


I lost the last one with a runaway drone. No big deal, it came down in the middle of an unpopulated forest - but the drone was lost with all hands. I felt really bad about it because I had developed some serious skill with it and gotten sort of attached to it. I was going out in winds with it and having a ball with the challenges that go along with that. But crashing in this hobby is a fact of life - which is why you always fly out in the sticks away from people and animals.



You can see the distinctive V Tail configuration
from behind. This thing can turn on a dime - and stop to pick the dime up too!
The Minion is riding on the LED voltage indicator.

I took it up for a quick hover test yesterday and it seemed to do well but I had some really awful wind - and my skills have atrophied. Might go out tonight and give it a whirl... The V Tail is aerodynamically inefficient and wasteful of power (or energy, if ya wanna get technical) - but it can spin on a dime unlike the tricopters with their fragile tail servos that always come apart in a crash.


The Minions stand ready to invade your privacy - or die trying!

This one isn't as visually appealing as my last one - that one looked like it had been stolen right out of the Edwards Air Force Base (except for the Minions riding on it, of course). Whatever - it's something to fly when a guy has 10 or 15 minutes of time to piss away.

Yannow it just amazes me too - and maybe even bugs me a bit: when I was a little gaffer I would watch the big kids and adults playing with RC stuff - and I would be entranced. All my friends were the same too, we would have been hassling the pilots and watching the machines and loved every minute of it. But kids today? They just go "Meh." Then they start texting on their phones. I just want to grab them and shake them sometimes! Here I am, showing off my flying skills - and they couldn't care less! JFC, kids! This thing has a programmable PID microprocessor based flight controller on it! How COOL is that?!?!?

And they just yawn. "Can you please FOAD, Mr. Filthie? I'm trying to text my friends...."

Fuggin kids these days! There's not a damned bit a good in any of 'em!!! Why - I'm strongly tempted to give those little shits the frowning of their wretched lives!!!


Dadgummit!!!!
When I was a kid we LIKED remote control toys!
I want a prune juice!


UPPER Update: She flies! She flies!!!!!

Gun Porn


A couple of nice flinter duelling pistols.


I'm trying to get Uncle Bob to keep a couple of these over the fireplace at the Treehouse. That way, when Bob or Quartermain or some other gibbon starts saying rotten things about me or my neocon friends - we have a constructive way to settle the argument!

Few people these days understand the complexities of flintlock weapons. Just getting these damned things to shoot every time you pull the trigger is an acquired skill. It isn't hard - but you have to pay very close attention to your priming powder and your maintenance. You have to watch the shape of your flint and periodically 'knap' it provide a reliable spark. Although Hollywood neglects facts in favour of drama - in days of old, if you were boarding a ship or attacking a fortress - if you carried pistols - you carried a lot of them!  Whereas the boys practice clearing jams and misfires today - in The Dayse Of Olde - if you had a misfire you flipped the iron end for end - and used it as a bonker to club your opponent to death with. Those would have been for commoners though - these fine duellers here are meant for gentlemen - guys like us that hang out at the Treehouse!

If you haven't got any black powder guns - you need to jump on that! These guns are every bit as much fun as modern guns, if not more so! They are addictive too - so I'll just point that out. If you buy a pistol, you are going to need a rifle too! They aren't that much money - so go ahead and indulge yourself! Take the money out of the kid's education savings fund, and tell the wife I said it's alright if she b*tches. A man has to have priorities in life - and a good blackpowder gun should be one of yours! 


The Big Problem With The Alt-Right

I look at the current political landscape and she's something of a mine field. I don't tolerate the gold digging victim classes or the political correctness that enables them. I actively discriminate against them covertly and overtly depending on the situation, and I make judgement and distinctions. I see a very real difference between black people and niggers and will say so when I feel the situation warrants it. In the eyes of Hillary Clinton and stupid people - that makes me a racist. I don't care, I will not submit to the tyranny of political correctness anymore and that's final.

I've watched the rise of the Alt-Right with mostly approval - a lot of those guys are just like me: they've been marginalized and penalized because they're white and male, and supposedly privileged. Even though we've never been involved with slavery, racism or discrimination - the only way to level the playing field and make everyone equal is to discriminate against guys like me. I've been insulted, passed over for promotion, mocked and ridiculed simply because I don't agree with leftists or accept them as my equals. Fact is, none of those assholes are fit to shine my shoes - and that's a fact. I refute the racist/sexist/homophobe labels because to be honest - I hate all leftists equally and will not bow down or submit to them and their bullshit. If I can't attack them overtly I undermine them covertly - and trust me - I can play as dirty as they do! And I do!

Being an equal opportunity hater is what gives me pause for thought with regard to the Alt-Right. Like them I hate and loathe leftists of any stripe... but with the Alt-Right...I have grave misgivings about my "friends". Some of these guys are fuggin nutters and actually are racists. Just get them going about (((eeeeeeevil joooooos))). Far as I'm concerned a leftist joo is just as despicable (and deplorable) as a white or black one.  If you want to fire someone out of a cannon because he is an idiot leftist - I have no problem with it. If you want to fire someone off a catapault because he's a joo - well I DO have a problem with that. And that is the problem with the Alt-Right: if I want to see the leftists run out of town on a rail - a political alliance with them is the only way.

I'm going along for now but I would like to warn The Usual Suspects that later on down the road, if this unsavoury alliance devolves into a fight about who the Useful Fools are and how to dispense with them - they may not like the results.


Friday, 16 September 2016

Friday Wind In The Wires: The Bowers Fly Baby


The Bowers Fly Baby is one of the most beautiful home builts a fella could ask for. This one was up over at Barnstormers awhile back. Might even still be there.


This one is a straight forward rudimentary build that
evokes images of the old Navy PT19's.

Construction is wood and fabric, with build time estimated at around 1200 hours for a scratch build. It is such a popular homebuild now that specially ordered kits can cut that time in half.


Propulsion provided by a 75~100 HP Lycoming or Continental.
Fuel burn rate is a miserly 4~6 gallons/hour

Pikers like yours truly are often drawn to homebuilts not knowing what they're getting themselves into. Most people that start these projects don't finish them because you have to learn the skills involved. You will be doing close tolerance work with wood, metal, engines, instruments, etc etc. An experience builder will often need years to complete a project like this.


A business like, orderly VFR instrument layout

This is a project that is reserved for the old fart that has mastered engine mechanics and has built up years of experience with tools. A build like this WILL challenge him and keep him off the street - often for years. Sometimes they become labours of love where these men will build the aircraft not for themselves - but for the next owners. They are often donated to flying clubs and museums and are built from the finest materials available, and made as perfectly as human hands can make them. Even so they can often be bought for ridiculously low prices. This one's going for 8 grand. Damn - I wish I had a farm and a grass landing strip...

As always, the buyer MUST beware. These wood and fabric planes MUST be hangared when not in use, preferably in a heated hangar. If they are subjected to constant temp and humidity changes the wood may begin to rot and if that happens - it's time to scavenge the parts and send the wooden airframe to the dump or fire pit.

If you have the skills to build, and prefer your aviation Al Fresco - this is a bird to consider.


Vintage Nose Art.

Redefining Failure As Success: Bill Clinton Is Still An Asshole


A couple of fags pat themselves on the back and liken themselves to Donald Trump with their supposed abilities to supposedly turn failure into success. Errrrrrrrmmm.... sure, fellas. Right. Oh, and hey - pull my other finger - it has bells on it!


How do I know Trump has mastered the skill of converting humiliation into energy? The signs are all there. For example…

Trump has entered one high-risk business after another, guaranteeing that he would experience a large number of setbacks, failures, and humiliations. People don’t run toward humiliation unless they know they can convert that negative energy to fuel. When you see someone succeed across multiple unrelated fields, that’s often a sign of a Master Persuader who feeds on both success and failure. You are watching Trump do exactly that, right in front of your eyes. He has converted every “gaffe” into news coverage. He eats bad news and converts it into fuel.

Many of you have watched me do the same thing. You’ve watched as I jumped fields from corporate America to cartooning. Then I became an author of business-related books. I opened two restaurants that didn’t work out. I tried lots of stuff that failed miserably. Now I’m talking about the presidential election. What do all of those things have in common?

I risked public humiliation in each case.

And in each case, lots of people told me “Keep your day job.” On a typical day, dozens of strangers insult my body, my personality, my brain, my integrity, and lots more. Like Trump, I consume it as fuel. And it is a learned skill.

You might have noticed that both Trump and I are quick to attack anyone who attacks us. Observers tell me I shouldn’t do that, because it makes me appear thin-skinned. Observers tell Trump the same thing. But observers are missing one important thing: We use the critics to refuel

If you were an alien from another planet, and you observed a lion killing a gazelle, you might think that lion was angry at its prey. You might think the lion was insulted that the gazelle was using its watering hole. What did the gazelle do to deserve that treatment? Is the lion being thin-skinned?

Trust me when I tell you that sometimes the lion is just eating.


Well aren't these fellas something? Ya can't stop 'em!!! They will take your hatred, convert it into energy and prevail!!! People love that image. Fact is that when it comes to persuasion Scott and Vox are pretty good at hoodwinking stupid people too.

So was Bill Clinton.

When the Monica Lewinsky case first broke I thought it was a frame up and a hoax. Okay - when you're done laughing at me - allow me to explain! My thinking was this: At the time of the scandal ol' Wilhelm Von Blow Job was at the height of his career. He was rich. He was handsome. He was powerful. Although I hated him on general principles as a liberal and couldn't respect the man, I had to respect the position of POTUS and the code of conduct just like everyone else. And here was the mainstream media telling me that such a man would risk a career, his job, a possible prison sentence, and global humiliation - to get a gummer from an overweight intern...? HAR HAR HAR! Not even a liberal would be that stupid! C'mon! And of course, when it panned out, yeah, suffice it to say I learned a few things about Master Persuaders and self proclaimed alpha males. But the learning wasn't over yet. Not by a long shot.

Bill's done, I thought. He's proven himself to be a philandering piece of shit. He's violated any number of written codes of conduct and as many unwritten ones. He let down his family, his wife and his nation. He has to be impeached or resign for lying under oath. And what happened? Stupid people circled the wagon around Clinton and said, "Yo, Bill! You da man, you sly old devil! Why, you're a lady's man!" Well, I was just FUBARed. The feminists went quiet as church mice. Monica was hounded in the press as a home wrecker. Hillary was set up as a victim. And Bill was celebrated and envied. The double standards were obvious: sin and vice are only sins and vice when the other guy does it! Insult was added to injury when conservatives let them get away with it and backed down whenever a fight loomed because liberals might call them sexists!!!! They didn't stand up to Obutthole because he might call them racists!!! While idiots like Michael Moore wondered what happened and where his country went - I started to wonder what planet I was on. What in hell happened to these people? Why were they doing stuff like this? They came out of nowhere, and suddenly they were everywhere. Divorce stats ran away, we stopped calling them broken homes and started calling single moms heroes, feminists and vibrants turned the workplace into a political minefield or a living hell... Clinton just seemed to set a whole lot of bad shit off at once. And the media! JFC! With a wink and a smirk, Ol' Slick Willy coyly told us that he smoked pot in school - but didn't inhale. The fags in the press swooned and fell in love.

And for me? The dumb ass Gen X kid with the wrong skin colour, the wrong morals and ethics, the wrong reproductive equipment..? The kid that thought a chad would never sit in the Oval Office? I was told to shove my white privilege up my ass. I was barred from the good jobs which my parents enjoyed, but now had to go to vibrants that couldn't speak English, and stressed out women that ran on anti-depressants. I was told that to get the same job my father got with a grade 10 education, I needed to spend at least four years in university first.


What's going to happen when these cankle blossoms hit the job market?



The difference between Scott n' Vox, and Donald Trump is that The Donald can persuade smart people too. Vox? He does okay with acne scarred cellar dwellers and younger kids that have been thrown into the workplace and then told to get out because they have nothing to offer. He's bitter and cynical just as most of his fans are. I admit to being bitter and cynical, but I'm smarter than Vox is and I see what he's doing. It's the same thing Bill Clinton did back in the 80's, same shit, different pile. Scott Adams? He's smarter than Vox too, but he appeals to stupid people that shape their opinions with political cartoons and comic strip characters. His analogy bears repeating:

Trust me when I tell you that sometimes the lion is just eating.

Trust me when I say this, boys. When the game warden pulls the trigger on the feral lion that is decimating the gazelle herds and threatening livestock and African villagers and farmers - he isn't angry either. He's often dealing with a threat he deeply wishes that he could have avoided. Is Trump's success due to his abilities as a negotiator and a persuader? Or is it a by-product of the blow back against the Clintons and their base of entitlement and welfare slobs, and their sexually disturbed social engineers? Welp - they've been using hate, anger and fear for fuel too. Today Hillary Clinton is an object of hate and ridicule and she deserves it. Trump is going to wipe the matt with her in the next election.



I dunno but if you run on hate, derision and humiliation, and dare
and defy it for too long...this is how you'll
prolly end up...



We'll see how it works out for 'em in the election I suppose. I strongly suggest you Yanks stock up on high cap magazines, guns and ammo. The predators today are welfare and entitlement slobs, grievance mongerers, and their enablers. If it makes ya feel any better as they take ya down - it's nothing personal. They're just trying to eat.




Thursday, 15 September 2016

Contrasting Cats: Unsinkable Sam & Sinkable Sam



I love cats and always have. The dumbest cats in the world are usually long haired black and white ones. It is no coincidence that Sylvester The Cat is black and white because he is as dumb as a post too. I have not been able to discern whether it is the colour or the length of hair - but I am firmly convinced that one or both of those genotypes is genetically linked to stupidity. If Sam had any smarts he would have enlisted in the Air Force, HAR HAR HAR!




This eerie pic must be 'Sinkable Sam'. The author suspects
that the cougar fell through the ice on the creek - and drifted to this
final resting place.

Cats supposedly fear and loathe water. These guys above perplex me a bit because their behaviour conflicts with everything I know about it.


I began my scientific studies of cats back in the 60's.
My first test subject behaved exactly as I thought he should.

Obviously more study is required.

Wednesday, 14 September 2016

BZZZZZZZZZZT!!!! WRONG...!!!!


The correct answers are:

"Anything that goat says about me is a damned lie!"
and
"Somebody! Please delete my browser history...!!!!"

True North


Yanks: Identify this fat headed fwench fart sucker correctly
and be eligible to win
a fun filled trip for two to Tofield Alberta!
Contest is not open to Canadian citizens, kittens, or
small, dead animals...
No whispering from the Peanut Gallery!!!!

Made It...

It's hump day. My week is half over. Yay. Today I started driving at 7:30 and finished at quarter to five. I drove from Grande Prairie in the North western part of Alberta over to Fort Mac in the north east corner of the province. 7-1/2 hours driving time, not counting breaks to drain my lizard and chatter with clients on the cell.


Fall is setting in up here. It was bright and sunny though,
and there were odd treats along the way like this little dip into the valley
carved by the Little Smokey River.



The other day I was day dreaming about an oak panelled office with
humidors on my desk, hot secretaries, and leather blotters...
But who needs that? Here I flaunt my status
on the corporate scrotum pole by making use
of the classy executive washrooms a little bit out of
Slave Lake.
No peons please! BW and Uncle Bob can use the bushes!


The first hour or two aren't bad. The last hour or two are murder.
Life on the road.


Downtown Athabasca. Possibly the prettiest
downtown urban centre in Alberta...


The weather was flawless. The autumn leaves are spectacular.
Wirecutter often jokes about brainwipes with their faces glued to their
cell phones and he is absolutely right. A beautiful setting like this -
and pretty much everyone who had stopped in was on their damned phone.
(Even I did it for a bit).


Overlooking the Athabasca River...


The last 200 clicks up to Fort Mac sucks. It's all trees and highway and that's it. Things are slow up here... but there are still glimmerings of life. It's too bad my schedule sucks because it is a nice time of year to be in Northern Alberta. I hope to make it home on Friday...but may have to stay one more night. Yeesh, I'm tired already and still have half the week left!

Must be getting old!

Contrasting My Elders

I'm a bit of a people watcher of sorts. I'm very specific about the people I like to watch though. I'm not a Diversity Hound - I have no interest in the sexual freak shows, the UFO's, cultural dregs and extraterrestrials that infest urban cosmopolitan areas like Whyte Ave in Aaaaaaadmontin. I like to watch more or less regular people. The most fascinating regular people tend to be older.

Some people... maybe most... get stupid when they get old. I shouldn't lurk there, the man is as dumb as a post, lives in a tax-payer funded bubble of entitlement and sanctimony, and thinks Hillary Clinton would make a great president.


Apparently this urban outdoorsman is
the product of Christian family values and an
indifferent gubbiment that
refuses to step up and care for him.

EDIT: Okay! Alright, already! Yes, by Thunderbox standards, the Rat has an IQ of 23 and is therefore eligible to claim the coveted title of Scholarl Emeritus. He's fighting a noble battle with bad meds, chronic pain, a failing intellect and advancing age. I try to respect him but sometimes the old bastard just gets the best of me. There but for the grace of God go I, I guess. Like all oldsters of this type, visits should be kept very short and sweet.

---------------------

I love Coopville! Coopville is ruled by two Rhode Island Red chickens:  King Charles and Queen Maude. Chicken Mom and her husband are their loyal servants and are responsible for keeping the Kingdom fit for royalty and maintaining the palace coop and grounds. The place always looks like a million bucks, and when they aren't felling trees and landscaping - they are repelling invasions of wild turkeys and deer.

Some days at work are just hairy for me. The bugger of my job is that the harder I work, the more trouble I get in and the more work I create for myself and everyone else. Everyone is pissed at me because of it (except the company owners) and sometimes - a quick trip to Coopville just soothes my soul. The servants at Coopville are always doing something worthwhile and meaningful. When they dig a stump outta the ground - it gets hauled away to the dump or burned and it's gone. I endure the same hassles every day trying to get feckless fuckwits - that are dumber than that stump - to do their jobs. I have to beg, plead and threaten to get them to do their jobs and even if I succeed - they will still be there tomorrow doing the same unproductive chit they're doing today! Ya can't trust them either; just because they say they're going to take care of something or do something, it doesn't mean they'll actually do it. You have to follow up afterward and make sure they've done it, or start fighting with them all over again if they haven't.


CM, her husband and their farm take me back to my own childhood growing up in the rural farmlands. I wish my lords and masters were chickens too, HAR HAR HAR! There are days when the turkeys are too much to bear, HAR HAR HAR!!!


His Royal Highness, King Charles Of Coopville.
Hard work and good humour seem to be the order of the day
in His realm.




I think it would be really easy for a fella to over-stay his welcome when visiting Coopville.


------------------------

I just discovered Mom. Like CM and her husband - the lady is always doing something. Maybe I'm imagining it but from what little I've read, this lady is ruthlessly frugal and practical in her daily affairs, fiercely independent, and warm and intelligent when company drops in.

When women gossip they cluck, cackle and chatter and create an unholy racket. The best thing a man can do when women flock together like that is fire up the chainsaw, or the mower or the motorcycle... and rev it up good n' loud - and go do something useful. My mother and her hens used to do that and the could create estrogen powered intellectual vacuums that left me wanting to open my wrists and bleed myself out, HAR HAR HAR!

When ladies speak - quite often they sound like Mom. They're worth listening too, and a fella just wants to top up his coffee cup, set down and listen in while pretending not to. When I was a kid my grandmother and wife would often talk about the same stuff Mom does. They're scholars in the womanly arts and a fella would be wise to learn from them what he can. Like Mom, my Grandmother knew all kinds of life hacks: which cleaners were best for certain problems. Food prep tricks and short cuts that make life better and easier. Example: years ago we were out fishin' and Big Jeff produced a fry pan that hadn't been cleaned in centuries and had gunk and chunt baked onto it - I think some of it actually fused with the metal on a molecular level. It was disgusting - but it was the Official Camp Fry Pan and it was that or nothing. My Gramma would have shot him (and his friends just for being there) - to see a good pan treated like that. I can't remember what she used to clean fouled pans  - I've since forgotten. Was it Liquid Plumber? Tide? Whatever - ya soaked a pan like that in a sink full of water and the right cleaner - and that gunk comes off like magic. A lot of dish soap manufacturers claim their cleaners will do it but I've never seen it. All I do remember is that once we got home, I called Gramma, got educated, and then I cleaned The Official Camp Fry Pan up clean and bright as new. Big Jeff was stunned. (Of course, the next year it was gummed back up again because the stupid bugger wouldn't keep it clean).

That's the impression I get from Mom - that a fella can learn things from her that no man could teach 'em!

Whatever - I'll just sit over here with my coffee and let the world go by - and Mom and her distinguished guests will never notice me. Carry on ladies, and pretend I'm not here!


If you have some elders in your life, maybe today would be a good one to call them up out of the blue or drop in.

Tuesday, 13 September 2016

Dammit. Advice To Younger Shooters...


I've got gun-fever again. I'll be fine for a couple years - then I just have to buy a new one just because. Nine times outta ten it goes into the gun locker and collects dust. I have a whole passel of rifles I need to sell off and get rid of because I just don't shoot them anymore. As a friend once put it - I feel a need to 'de-clutter' my life, and as far as guns go - that means thinning out the herd and only keeping the ones I shoot and a few that hold sentimental value.

But today at lunch time I went into the neighbourhood purveyor of death and destruction and saw one of these:

That's the Chiappa lever gun in .45 Long Colt




It's a pistol caliber carbine that shoots the same cartridge as my new Ruger wheelgun. The last time I saw one of these, the Outhouse Gang were hooping it up on the rifle range with theirs. The old farts hooted and hollered and jeered and cheered as they shot at gongs going out to 200m. They missed a lot of those long range shot - but they hit on a bunch of 'em too! The guns themselves aren't much bigger than a Daisy Red Ryder BB gun and they shoot like a house afire! I've wanted one ever since... and like I say, there's one down at the gun shop a couple blocks from here. $1200.00 and it comes with one of those flip-up Lyman tang sights. As you can see the thing is colour case hardened in the manner of the antique originals. As a reloader I can bark up the .45 Long Colt to approach ballistic performance to that of a .44 Magnum... but as an old fart that shoots for fun and that's it... some patty-cake target loads with cast lead bullets would be right up my alley.

The hell of it is - I have gotten old. My goddamn eyes just can't handle iron sights anymore. They blur and I can't focus them. But - if my eyes were as clear and bright as they were a couple heart beats ago - I would go down to that shop first thing in the morning and buy that little rotter - cash on the barrel head! What a fun gun for the kids - big noise, big smoke - and cheap ammo!

Which brings me to my sage advice for youngsters. Younger shooters like flashy guns with high power optics and bells and whistles and doo-dads and gizmos. If any kid asked me for my opinion - I would tell them to learn how to use good iron sights - and do so as much as possible! They're funner than all get-out, and the time will come when your eyes go like mine and ya won't be able to see shit unless it hits you in the face!