Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

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

Thursday, 19 January 2017

Filthie's Antique Chit Show


I have gun fever again. A hundredn'twennyfive years ago our ancestors were transitioning from muzzle loading front-stuffing black powder guns to suppository guns that load from the rear - or the breach! At first they were ultra-manly, ultra-retro single shot cartridge guns with graceful lines that appealed to our forefathers - and today they appeal to their great and great-great grandsons. Specifically, I have fallen in love with the Martini-Henry chambered for the obsolete 577/450 round.

There are certain challenges in making these old guns live again... a feasibility
study is underway as we speak.

My great grandfather may have carried a rifle just like this in his youth. Family lore has it that he was a bit of a scoundrel. It was a common scam of the peasant class in Edmonton, England in those days: you took The King's Shilling (Enlistment) not once - but twice! I dunno how that worked but in the days without computers, one could apparently enlist under one name and then later, do it again under another and you could even get away with it for awhile. He probly got an extra squid, or a bob or a farthing a week under the scam until the bean counters caught up him. Apparently he was even remanded in the Tower of London whilst he awaited the Judge's pleasure in court! The story goes that he got off lightly because of the grinding poverty in his family and community - and was sentenced to a lenient couple years of back breaking public service hard labour rather than prison. That was a good deal for cons in those days and he worked his sentence off and flew straight after that. My uncle even showed us a picture of him once - he had jet black hair, a ridiculous Victorian era mustache and a happy look to him. We marveled as we looked at it - I have his nose and jaw line and ape-like austrolapithacene brow line. (At least I did - too many years of soft living and good food have rounded me out a bit)...


In any event I am scouring the internet and curio/relic stores and pricing out dies, sourcing brass,  bullet moulds and all that junk - and I end up getting side tracked by all the other cool junk and antique floatsam and jetsam of people long gone from our world.

I love old tins. These are Ovaltine Energy Tablets and Gorges Grouse decided to help himself
and gobbled the lot!
Now he's stuck to the ceiling and the Missus is poking at him with a broom handle and
trying to get him down because she wants to go to China-Mart! It's gonna
take a putty -knife to peel him down from there! Hopefully the tablets wear off

Serves him right I suppose. Thankfully all is not lost: I was able to procure some Nigger Hair Pipe Tobacco, some Snake Oil From Mars, and some camphorated radioactive toothpaste for Chicken Mom. Why, I am finding useful gifts for all my internet friends! Rest assured, I will find something that is just perfect for you too!

I'm finishing up in Fort Mac today and driving home... it's been pretty quiet. The oil boom has gone bust and tough times are on the way. I may not get off the ground with this project but even so - it has been a great way to pass the time!

Have a good Thursday and watch out for falling Grouse.  :)

Wednesday, 18 January 2017

Last Day In Fort Mac - No Ravens Today...

Oh sure, there's tons of ravens around but none of the singers I have been running into earlier this week. I saw one today up on a lamp post that just squawked and pooped on my head and flew away without any song notes or sound effects.

Hmpfff! That's better!


I went out to take a friggin' walk by the friggin' reservoir,
A-wishin' for a friggin' quid to pay my friggin' score,
My head it was a-achin' and my throat was parched and dry,
And so I sent a little prayer, a-wingin' to the sky.

And there came a friggin' raven and he walked upon the waves,
And I said, "A friggin' miracle!" and sang a couple staves
Of a friggin' churchy ballad I had learned when I was young.
The friggin' bird took to the air, and spattered me with dung.

I fell upon my friggin' knees and bowed my friggin' head,
And said three friggin' Aves for all the friggin' dead,
And then I got upon my feet and said another ten.
The friggin' bird burst into flame --- and spattered me again.

The burnin' bird hung in the sky just like a friggin' sun.
It seared my friggin' eyelids shut, and when the job was done,
The friggin' bird flashed cross the sky just like a shootin' star.
I ran to tell the friggin' priest --- he bummed my last cigar.

I told him of the miracle, he told me of the Rose,
I showed him bird shit in my hair, the bastard held his nose.
I went to see the bishop but the friggin' bishop said,
"Go home and sleep it off, you sod --- and wash your friggin' head!"

Then I came upon a friggin' wake for a friggin' rotten swine,
By the name of Jock O'Leary and I touched his head with mine,
And old Jock sat up in his box and raised his friggin' head.
His wife took out a forty-four, and shot the bastard dead.

Again I touched his head with mine and brought him back to life.
His smiling face rolled on the floor, this time she used a knife.
And then she fell upon her knees, and started in to pray,
"It's forty years, O Lord," she said, "I've waited for this day."

So I walked the friggin' city 'mongst the friggin' halt and lame,
And every time I raised 'em up, they got knocked down again,
'Cause the love of God comes down to man in a friggin' curious way,
But when a man is marked for love, that love is here to stay.

And this I know because I've got a friggin' curious sign;
For every time I wash my head, the water turns to wine!
And I gives it free to workin' blokes to brighten up their lives,
So they don't kick no dogs around, nor beat up on their wives.

'Cause there ain't no use to miracles like walkin' on the sea;
They crucified the Son of God, but they don't muck with me!
'Cause I leave the friggin' blind alone, the dyin' and the dead,
But every day at four o'clock, I wash my friggin' head!

Nobody Is, Kid. Nobody Is....

You weren't born to be mistreated
And you weren't born to be misguided
You were born to be loved
You were born to be loved

Years ago when my estranged daughter cut us out of her life, she did it in a way that left pretty much everyone in the family broken hearted and angry. This is what queers do if you disagree with them, and this is why people hate and loathe them even if they are no longer permitted to say so in public. I don't care about any of that; I will speak my mind as I see fit. It was a painful learning experience for me as well: there are times when taking crap off people - even family - just isn't right and you have to stand up, stick to your guns and most importantly - make sure they stick to theirs if they want to get stupid about it. Words are like bullets, and this old bastard no longer has any intentions of standing around while shitlibs shoot at his feet and demand that he dance to their tune.

For several years I didn't know if my daughter was alive or dead until one day I decided to put my grief and anger and hurt aside and start studying queers scientifically and clinically. I found a closed, passworded forum where parents of troubled homos could speak honestly and freely about their kids and problems without the usual screeching lynch mobs of social justice warriors, politically correct scolds and censors. It has since been found and shut down but I talked to some really great people and they helped me out during a tough time in my life. One lady was a surgeon at some posh clinic in NYFC with an estranged gay son. Another was a full bull colonel in the army and others were just working bums like me. I was shocked to learn that queers in these situations pretty much all act alike. Who woulda thunk it? Stereotypes arise for a reason I guess - but these people predicted my daughter's behaviour patterns and coached me on how to deal with her years before we even coined the terms for social justice warriors, the snowflake generation and cry bullies. One of them told me that it was okay to be worried sick about my daughter and suggested that I could track her and keep tabs on her through this wonderful new thing called the internet. (I was flabbergasted - doing so didn't even occur to me). So I did a web search and poked around and found her blogs and lord - after that I wished I hadn't. You get to see how manipulative, deceitful an deluded these kids are and it left me in a state of complete despair. When she found out I was doing that she scrubbed herself off the internet completely and shuttered her blogs - I think she was deeply embarrassed and ashamed - and she damned well should have been, but that's water under the bridge. 6 or 7 years worth now.

She has a little art blog now - I'm pretty sure it's hers, I just found it - where she posts her work anonymously and yaks with her friends and it is all very harmless (if not a little bizarre) for the most part. She probably doesn't know I've found it. And - like me, she likes to post music once in awhile. Apparently she likes the crooners too.

You weren't born to be mistreated
And you weren't born to be misguided
You were born to be loved
You were born to be loved

Reading your kids is like looking in a fun-house mirror; there's a cadence to her words and a logic to her flow of thought that looks exactly like mine and it makes me smile... and then will it change radically away from any perspective I might have and sometimes it's delightful. Other times, not so much. There was a time I wished by all the stars that we could share life's rocky road or at least have our paths run parallel but that isn't going to happen. There's too much time and space between us. She has her fate, it lies far from ours and it still leaves me a little bummed out sometimes. It serves me right, I shouldn't be reading her stuff. Maybe a part of her looks back on what happened and regrets the way things turned out? I hope so, because I know I do. Perhaps we still have that in common at least. That'll have to be good enough.

Nobody is 'born to anything' in our country,  our lives and fates are what WE make of them. 2017 lies directly ahead! One foot in front of the other, Filthie! As for you - play the cards you're dealt with courage and humour. And most of all...

Don't look back.

Have a good Hump-Day all. I'm off to work!

Tuesday, 17 January 2017

Fort Mac Shipyards

The chinook continues, +5C today. I will take it!!!
This is the Clearwater River that feeds into the Athabasca and is right
beside Ft. Mac.

Another musical raven. This one was smaller than the one I
met yesterday and sounded like a buggered up
pinball or pachinko machine. He just sat up there, clinking, tinkling and plinking
to himself.
They are homely birds that sound wonderful.

The Radium Scout has been a landmark around Ft. Mac forever. I think
it used to be part of the town's lifeline back in the day
when Ft. Mac was accessible only by river boat and bush planes.

I dunno what this one does. Another river boat?

What a wonderful job working on this boat must have been.
It looks like it was assembled by pikers like us - and probably was.
As you can imagine, Alberta's maritime tradition isn't on
par with a coastal province.

The Fort Mac shipyards open up to the public in May. It might be worth a motorcycle trip once the seasons change and the ice comes off the roads.

Oh dammit. Lunch is over - back to work! Have a great Tuesday, all!

A Man's Rifle Shouldn't Be Uglier Than The Man Himself

These were the words of visiting scholar emeritus, Gorges Grouse upon seeing my range rifle which I now call "Robbie".

That's the Robinson Armament XCR-L Keymod Designated Marksman Rifle.

I admit Robbie is pretty damned ugly to look at. This gun drove me crazy trying to work up a load for it and I was seriously starting to despair until last weekend. Behold: powder charge in grains on the left, group size on the right, all fired at 100 yards.

2.250" OAL
IMR 3031 

23.7 GR 1.018"
23.9 GR 0.177" (FLUKE)
24.1 GR 1.156"
24.3 GR 0.671"
24.5 GR 0.393" FLUKE?
24.7 GR 0.396"

That's a chit house Nosler bulk bullet burning progressively larger doses of IMR 3031 gun powder! That is accuracy darn near worthy of a United States Marine, never mind a gun club stubfart like Yours Truly! I'm trying not to get excited because sometimes flukes happen and maybe I just had a lucky day on the range. I am going to repeat this test ASAP to confirm the results before I get officially happy about it.

I got taken into the boards on another blog for this gun - some of the folks saw no reason for owning a high capacity semi-auto and I didn't make a stink about it because most of them were elderly seniors that didn't know what they were talking about or what is involved.

I admit that part of the reason for me owning this gun is as it's value as a raised middle finger to the liberals that infest the gov't and the RCMP. I don't trust those a-holes farther than I can throw them and you shouldn't either. Sadly - our RCMP are now easily as or more corrupt than any other police force in North America. But the real reason I own a high cap gas gun is actually because of one of these:

This WAS my gun. A heart stopping elegant Ruger No.1 single shot
in .25-06.
A "once in a lifetime" gun that outshot guns costing three times as much.

Back in 1999 I found a sweet Ruger No. 1 on the used gun rack. I was new to the sport and Baloney Bob helped me wring it out and work up a load for it: An 85 grain Nosler BT on 58 grains of IMR4350! I still remember the load to this day. For range work I dropped that down to 54 grains and that beast would print group after group after group .75 MOA (3/4" groups at 100 yards) or less, all day long. For years, I shot that gun and impressed even Baloney Bob with it. Soon I was shooting better than he was. For 14 years, pound after pound of gunpowder went down that gun's gullet and finally, one day... the groups started opening up. The velocities fell off. A trip to the gunsmith and a look with the bore scope confirmed the worst: I had burned the throat out on the old girl. Oh sure, you can rebarrel them and I seriously thought about it - but that's a crap shoot. There is no guarantee that your new barrel would shoot as well as the old one. I gave it to Flapz' son and bought a black rifle for my range work. .223 is cheap to shoot and cheaper to reload - and if I ever burn the barrel on Robbie I will just loosen the bolt at the front of the receiver, pull and twist - and slide the barrel out and pitch it in the garbage! Reverse that procedure to install a new one. No gunsmith required! A new one is only $600.00. Cheap brass, cheap bullets, easy to reload, and fun to shoot - all that, plus: guns like Robbie offend liberals and stupid people! Ya gotta love it! Plus - on top of all that - it is a lot easier to say goodbye to a mass produced gas gun like Robbie than it is for a faithful and handsome gentleman's gun like the big Ruger. My heart broke when the gunsmith gave me the bad news about that gun and I still feel a twinge of sadness when I think about it. BAH! Old men and their toys!

Getting back to Gorges and his comments about how a rifle shouldn't be uglier n' its contraire:

The full length rifles are going cheap at Tradex Canada for $500.00 and up!
In the manly 577/450 black powder round!
The full length service rifles are a lot friendlier and easier on the shoulder
than these carbines are.
If I can find a good one at a reasonable price I may consider it. The
brass is obsolete and has to be fabbed by hand from brass 24 guage

Be still my beating heart.
Tradex has these in .50-70 but they are all in pretty rough shape.
If I can find a good one at a reasonable price...I may go with this instead.

Now that Robbie seems to be coming along, another manly single shot rifle is definitely in the works. (I need to be properly equipped for when I go on safari in Africa with world famous author and adventurer, WL Emery). But in a nutshell, that is my gun strategy: a gun designed for a high rate of fire for range and play - and a friendly, gentlemanly single shot for duties in the field and around the campfire. Rest assured I WILL find another single shot, it may or may not be uglier than I am... but shopping and hunting is half the fun.

See ya at the range.

The Irishman's Dilemma

So, you're left with the classic Irishman's Dilemma...

"Do I eat the potato now - or do I let it ferment and drink it later...?"
- Mallory Archer

I'm not Irish but to be honest - I'm stumped by that one too...

Monday, 16 January 2017

Off To Fort Mac...

Home of Big Oil.

Apparently Cow Cnut   Hanoi Jane   Jane Fonda was up here telling everyone why they should stop raping the environMINT and all find new jobs... presumably in Hollywood where they could prostitute themselves to the leftist cause the way she and Neil Young have. Surprisingly, the old bitch got out without getting pelted with rotten tomatoes.


This is the morning sun rising on the hotel beside the gas
station at Deadwater

The prestigious BW Bandy Bed N' Breakfast by Boyle -
and a nice sunrise

We're chinoking up here in koobasaw country. Temps are all over the board this time of year in northern Alberta, we can easily get sub -30C in Jan/Feb but today the truck says +2C and I am just a smidge south of Fort Mac.

This little bugger was hopping around beside the roadside pissoire
a half mile from town.

Actually he wasn't that small. This guy would have prolly been a smidge smaller than King Charlie Of Coopville. Unlike crows that caw, ravens have a deep melodic 'croak'. Folk tales and hogwash from my ancestors have it that these birds can mimic like parrots do and I could well believe it - this guy hopped around beside my truck and trilled like a cell phone. You can tell by the way he acts that he cons the truckers and travellers for treats on a regular basis.

Welp - the road calls! Have yourselves a great Monday.

Sunday, 15 January 2017

Been There, Done That...

... bought the tee shirt.

That is Zoe Quinn. Xhe doesn't want to be a man, xhe doesn't want to be a woman - she just wants to be a victim that we all have to feel sorry for.

You can bet Zoe's parents are proud. She's
two years younger than my daughter.

Welcome to my daughter's tribe: Sexually disturbed, offended by everything ... and lost in the world. At least she's not doing nudies on the internet - I hope. How do you help somebody like this? Do you feed their psychotic behaviour? Do you challenge it? Do you medicate it? Or do you throw away your morality, ethics and common sense and pretend that this is healthy behaviour for a young lady - and submit to it?

A lot of people seem to think so. According to Wiki, she's a hapless victim of internet trolls and monsters. Wiki is infested with politically correct social justice wankers that WOULD say that. Just for giggles I checked her out on Infogalactic and they made much less reference to all the harassment she supposedly suffered. I'm still wondering how you bully someone over the internet. If I don't like all the rotten things BW says about me I don't have to read his stuff! Even a kid should understand that!

It blows my mind how we got here too. Anyone with an IQ above freezing will tell you that if you go around picking fights and provoking people - you're not a victim if somebody turns around and kicks your butt for it. And the people enabling and encouraging this - I don't think we are mainstreaming degenerate sexual conduct so much as all out mental illness.

When my own daughter went off the rails I found myself in the worst possible place a parent could be. I couldn't help my daughter because that would be seen as an actionable hate crime in today's society, and I couldn't live with myself lying to her and telling here that she is a beautiful, wonderful person when she was actually a hateful, angry and bitter young woman.

They start young.
I dunno how many times I looked into
a little stormy face like this and wondered,
"Is this normal?"
Once in awhile I could see it...but jeez louise...all the time?

This is my theory, from the out house where the toilet seat is freezing cold, and the TP is kept in a coffee can. As a child my daughter was moody and rebellious and quite frankly - a little unlikeable. When she went to school she graduated into being a progressively more aggressive and infuriating little shit until one day in grade three - I had had it. The time outs didn't work. The groundings didn't work. The teacher at school was giving me hell because my daughter wouldn't behave in class. My in laws were undermining me by letting her off her non-coporal punishments. I got the lickin' stick out, gave them all the finger - and tanned that girl's hide the same way my Dad did when I was a kid! And wonder of wonders - she straightened up and flew right after that. She got good marks. She made a few friends. Then in high school, she just went weird. She was always in her room on her computer and only came out for meals or to play video games - it was the only time I could get her to talk. But she got super marks at school and then she moved out and was gone. She came back from university with the same problems Zoe has. As I read her email where she 'came-out' it brought back memories of that little screaming face... and I was flummoxed.

I think they're born this way. It's possible she was born normal and then I dropped her on her head or she fell off her bike or something - but I think she came into this world with a chip on her shoulder and I will bet she leaves with it too. I don't think that we are mainstreaming degenerate sexuality so much as we are mainstreaming mental illness.

Well, as these kids go off the rails to whatever fates and futures that await them I am heartened that all is not lost. Infogalactic came about as a result of the usual liberal ass hattery involving 'narratives', 'political correctness', historical revision etc etc etc. (In other words, lying and deceit). Infogalactic is an effort in getting honesty out to those of us that need it, and keeping the facts straight. One has to admire the kids involved and the integrity with which they're taking their mission. If we could get all our kids to manage their information according to those 'seven canons' - everyone would be further ahead.

Friday, 13 January 2017

What Is Trump Gonna Do?

Long story short - he's going to try and make as many people accountable as possible. That is going to mean some very unpleasant decisions for some very unpleasant people.

America (and Canada) - now have entire communities and generations addicted to welfare. Welfare and The Dole dehumanize people - it kills their ambition and drive and instills an unhealthy sense of entitlement. That is why the fake news coming from the media won't report any of these violent anti-Trump protests, and tries to whitewash them. That is why it is violent Trump supporters causing all the problems in the fake news.

These people are like animals for the most part. Even the threat or possibility of ending the gravy train has them rioting, burning, looting and murdering. They don't know how to fend for themselves and they don't want to learn. It's the same as tourists feeding the animals in the national parks. They become dependent and when the food supply is gone - they react violently when they begin to starve.

Our kids can't afford to buy homes or start families. The second they're born, they are on the hook individually for $300k or more in unfunded liabilities for social programs. We've created some very serious, dangerous monsters and one day we will need to confront them - or they will  bankrupt us.

I think a lot of people expect Trump to make America great again at no expense to themselves. I think they are in for a very rude surprise. I would gun-up if I were you because until those monsters are trained and learn to fend for themselves...they are going to be very, very dangerous.

Sex Education For Old Farts

Occasionally Unca Bob over at the Treehouse tries to give the younger fellas better advice on the fairer sex and matters of the heart than they would get from the sewer so-called 'Manosphere'. He does alright for the most part - but like all old farts, his world has come and gone and the behaviours, the morals and ethics that he espouses - have gone with it. He maintains that the innate nature of men and women are what they are and we are the same critters our ancestors were in Roman times and even earlier.

I agree with that up to an extent. The human animal is what it is, and like all animals, they tend to perform and exist in certain predictable ways. But beyond that - we are capable of some serious jack-assery that leaves me wondering how in hell it is that we haven't wiped ourselves off the face of the earth sometimes. The world and women that Bob loved and dated are long gone and is nothing like what the kids face today. On a couple of occasions I smugly chided him for being clued out of the times. (I wasn't too smug; the world and women of my youth are receding in the rear view mirror too).

I am fortunate in that some of my readers are very high class people. They are the best of the best: they're land owners, tradesmen, respected (and lovingly disrespected) elders, working men and women - the kind of folks that may not be filthy rich - but good folks with strong manners, and iron clad bullet proof morals and ethics. You two know who you are, HAR HAR HAR!!!

WARNING: What follows is, what I'm hoping - is a dirty joke fit for rig pigs, fire fighters, Marines, Sailors, and hare-lipped retards like Yours truly. Decent folks with a sense of morality will really want to give what follows - a solid, deliberate miss.

At first I roared with laughter! That kid has a sense of profanity that is almost inspirational! When he lectures, I am picturing barrels FULL of rutting, capering gibbons and primates! HAR HAR HAR!!!
Oh man - this is AWESOME! The comedy and rudeness are at almost lethal levels!

And once the novelty of the grade 8 humour finally blew out... I started to think. Good grief... is it really that bad out there? Is this what has become of our daughters? If so, good lord...our sons... I'm asking because I don't know. My own daughter chose a degenerate sexual lifestyle and we no longer speak. I see stuff all the time by 4th wave feminists with what can only be described as poisoned minds. I see the pain and hurt in the Manosphere everywhere. I used to sanctimoniously chide Bob for not understanding the feral liberated modern woman - cripes, I underestimated her by orders of magnitude myself, if this is common.

When I'm at the rod n' gun club we pick on the young guys all the time and I like to take part by heaving a dramatic sigh and rhetorically asking my fellow cranks, "Who is gonna take care of us when we turn 65?" (And of course the little shits always make some rude comment that Darwin or Murphy will get us first). If this is the new normal - and the divorce stats back that up - are the lights even going to be on when I turn 65?

Is Darwin coming for us all?

Thursday, 12 January 2017

Filthie's Thursday Speakeasy

So it's Thursday today and pretty much all of us got paid. So - whaddya do on payday? Why, ya go to the bar, slam some toxin - and gamble!

I've already been cleaned out! We had a poker game going in the storage room and Gorges Grouse is cleaning up! Alberta Premier Rachael Notely, the chief of police, the vicar, WL and BW and Quartermain were all still in when I left ... but I will wager Gorges cleans all of them out before the night is done. I think he's cheating but can't complain because I was too - didn't help any...

I should just shut the bar down and re-open as a casino. Uncle Bob, Wirecutter and some other rubby-dubs are shooting dice in the back alley. It's only a matter of time before the guns and knives come out and then it will get REALLY interesting! HAR HAR HAR!

Speak of the devil! Was that Gorges' 44 magnum going off in the back room? Or Quartermain's .38? Whatever, duty calls! I will either be putting a body into the dumpster or running one down to the hospital ER! While I'm gone - enjoy some appropriate music, and everyone keep your hands where everyone else can see them!

Wirecutter threw a seven, Uncle Bob said
he threw eight...🎵🎵🎵

Music for Friday too!

I think I saw Rachael wearing a 'Make America Great Again' hat in this

Wednesday, 11 January 2017

Mutual Of Omaha's Wild Kingdom!


Welcome to Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom! Join me, Glen Filthie, as we stalk and hunt the most fearsome and vicious of dangerous game with world famous author, adventurer and explorer - WL Emery! Today we'll be hunting the African Cape Buffalo....!!!

Oh my...EWWWWWW! Some aspects of motherhood are
common across all the species....WL and I will pass on this shot
out of gentlemanly sportsmanship and compassion for the calf...

Ohhh.....GAAAAHHH!!!! Gross!
Think ya can give the poor buff a pass on this one WL? Maybe shoot the damned bird instead?
Now we know why the African Cape Buffalo is so mean and dangerous!
I don't blame 'em one bit!

Looks like the animals aren't going to cooperate with us today folks. Instead of a thrilling hunt, we seem to be getting a disrespectful scat show!!! I'm sorry everyone!

Let's clean things up a bit and change the subject! Maybe we should have some tasteful classical music, and see how masterpiece big game rifles and shotguns are made for big wheels like Earnest Hemingway, WL, and Yours Truly!

Who woulda thunk that cheese-eating surrender monkeys
could produce elegant firearms for elite sportsmen
like us?

Yannow I'm old enough to remember when portions of Africa were still largely unexplored and mysterious. Every Sunday the stubfarts from Mutual Of Omaha would come on TV and wrestle small tame gators and large snakes for the cameras. The tribesmen were always a hoot, I still remember laughing with Pop when some Oogah-Boogah with a bone through his nose got a spear in the ass from a rival tribe. Sometimes Africa was a very dangerous place to be back then. Today it's ALWAYS dangerous depending on where you are and who you're dealing with. I remember Colonel Jeff Cooper railing at a young couple who wanted to cross the continent on motorcycles - and he told them not to do it! Not surprisingly they were murdered and their adventure was cut brutally short.

Sadly, the Dark Continent is pretty much no longer a mystery. It was better back in the good ol' days when a kid with an imagination could imagine lost cities of gold, talking apes and fearless hunters and explorers adventuring into their realms. With all the mystique gone, the real Africa becomes a dirty, vile continent with little to nothing to recommend it.

Un Chapeau Le Filthie


Didn't know I was bilingual, didjya? Ya thought I was a simple, ignernt red neck Albertan like BW Bandy or somethin'.

 Well ya shouldna thunk it!!!

This is my country hunting estate in Large Hole, Alberta. Or it will be if I ever wine Lotto 649...!  That is my dream these days. A small cabin in the woods, away from the noise and fetid air of the city...

Your Privilege Is Fine, Boys. Check Your Manners And Chivalry...

Watch your manners!!!

Watch the reaction!

BW is checking to make sure his fly is zipped. Bob and Quartermain stop talking and think: "Did I say something rude that I shouldn't have? Did I disrespect somebody accidentally?" Uncle Bob does a double take to see if HE's done something stupid. All us guys are culture conditioned to freeze up and run a self diagnostics to make sure we haven't acted rudely or unchivalrously - and it's killing us. Not only us, but our communities nations.

It's the stuff of historical legend: at a formal diplomatic function for Britain's elite power brokers and diplomats, an angry harridan, puffed up with her own self importance, set upon Prime Minister Churchill and said, "If you were my husband, I'd put rat poison in your tea!"

"Madame - if YOU were my wife, I'd drink it!"

HAR HAR HAR! You'd probably just get a mild case of the Hershey Squirts from it too, you alcoholic old bastard!!! HAR HAR HAR! How I wish we had men of this wit and calibre today! I believe they call devastating responses like this "rejoinders". But the point of that is this: Winston didn't miss a beat. The second that cankle beaked off at him he was right back at her and said a number of things without actually saying them. In effect, he said, " I'm smarter than you, I'm faster than you, and I am not going to take any of your bullshit." All the lady and her detractors could do was gawp and fume! You take a man like that seriously.

Awhile back I got in a chit fight with a similar mealy mouthed blogger that said rotten things about me, my wife, our family and Christians. And right on cue, I froze up and ran that self diagnostic while I tried to fathom why this guy hated me, why he would lie about me and lie about Christians. And so the rotten wood burned and smoldered under my scalp as I tried to process that and decide on what to do about it - and decided to let it slide. He was a grumpy old man! He was a military vet! He was disabled and in a wheel chair! Ya can't mouth off at a guy like that! It's unchivalrous and unsporting!

And so, the mealy mouthed old bastard kept mouthing off and I vapour locked. My programming got in a poop loop! I have to be sporting and gentlemanly! This guy was an absolute shit! He took a few more cheap shots and finally the smoldering rotten wood in my brain box flamed into life! Why was I putting up with this shit? The fact that I was using restraint meant nothing to him - he saw it as weakness and stupidity. As I said in an earlier post, I went to Red Alert, armed the forward phaser array, put the deflector shields on full - and went to war with him. I spent about a week doing to that stupid old bastard the same things he did to me: I made bogus assumptions about him as a person and his history, and then I mocked him and insulted him based on that - on his blog and mine. The tempest in a tea pot raged for about a week until he whined "I'm a better man than that! Why are you treating me like this?!?!?" He was utterly shocked that anyone would treat him this way. It was probably the first time anyone ever called him on his bullshit. Months ago he was whining about how his readership was tapering off and that is how it usually goes - people don't want to fight, they want to be nice ... and when they confront a mean sleazy person - they walk away without saying anything. That is the exact WRONG thing to do.

So I explained it to him. "You don't know anything about me, you have no proof at all for the rotten things you've said, and although I'm not perfect - I'm smarter than you, I'm a better man than you, and I am not gonna take your bullshit. If you think you are a better man then ACT like it".

After that I felt bad because all that was true. It made me feel guilty because I was picking on some dummy in a wheelchair who was what he was, and maybe I shoulda just shut my pie hole and taken my lumps.  Even wrote a post about it.

Can you imagine my surprise when I saw this:

"I did one thing I regret. I should have kept my opinion to myself about another man's family problems. I don't know the whole story and should have remained silent. I do regret that and I am sorry I said anything about it. As far as everything else I have said here, I stand by it. It is my opinion and I am entitled to my opinion the same way Mr. Filthie is entitled to his.  I sincerely hope that his family circumstances change for the better and he can reconcile with his daughter someday."

LINK (He's probably going to take that post down but whatever).

An apology? Somewhere in that old derelict - there is still a spark of a man of worth. At least for a for a few brief moments - he was a better man - but I had to beat the stuffing out of him first! You're welcome, by the way, Rat! (Of course it was temporary, after that he was beaking off about how eeeevil Christians like Gorges Grouse were burning books, goose-stepping around the bonfire and enslaving women, HAR HAR HAR!) Good lord - and this guy votes. Again - whatever.

Earlier this week Maryl Streep used an awards ceremony for arts and entertainment to beak off at Donald Trump.

Donald Trump had the unmitigated gall to call this fat old bint 'over rated'.
I would agree.

This turd brained shitlib is screaming about Donald Trump making fun of a shitlib reporter selling fake news.

Hey Maryl and Gimpy - awhile back four niggers caught a white
retarded man and tortured him for two days. Your media buddies are still
turd polishing that one as they try to sanitize it. Or they're censoring it.
You got off pretty light, I would say... kinda hard
to complain about harassing the disabled when you are
a bald faced liar that won't do a thing when it happens to others

HAR HAR HAR! HAR HAR HAR!!!! I dunno what's funnier - Donald mocking the liberal morons of the nation - or their outrage at it!!! HAR HAR HAR! They're clutching at their pearls and falling into swoons of outrage because the a president pointed out that he was smarter than they are, and he's not going to take any more of their chit.

This is my message today: being nice, courteous and respectful to mean, deliberately stupid people is not morally right. They're using that to take advantage of us and they are hurting us, our families and our nation now. Europe is flushing itself down a very politically correct toilet... and these idiots want the same for Canada and America. They'll do it too, if nobody stands up to them. We don't have to show up to every fight we are invited to - but there comes a time when that 98 lb. weakling deserves the beating he gets. Having a vagina or a disability does not entitle you to treat people with contempt or derision. And - as Maryl and her gimp reporter friend are finding out - you can no longer hide behind your phoney victim cards anymore than The Rat can hide behind his wheelchair and service record when I beat him up. 

I don't care what you call it - I might say it's God, you might call it some grand cosmic Karmic Wheel... but I believe that in this world, more often than not, what goes around comes around. I have this sinking feeling that in the days ahead, regardless of our politics - most of us (at least half) - are gonna get what we have coming as that big ol' wheel comes round.

Good luck to you and keep yer stick on the ice.

Saturday, 7 January 2017

Rifle Review: Robinson Armament

Any squaddies around here? What in hell is a 'designated marksman' anyways?

Robinson Armament developed the XCR-L Keymod Rifle a couple years back and advertised it as a rifle for the 'designated marksman'. I am a civvie; when you call somebody a 'marksman' I figure we are talking about snipers like Firehand and Wirecutter. Aaaaand I woulda thunk that would mean a rifle capable of above average accuracy.

Tim at the rod n gun club is my brother-from-another-mother. He's short, fat, bald, and RUDE. (Okay, no he's not rude, he's a gentleman) and he lent me his XCR-L for a few rounds. This was about five four or five years ago and I was shooting all the time. I took the rifle and put on a clinic for the boys that left them all (me included) champing at the bit to go buy one for ourselves.

Oh boy.
This gun might make sense - but only if you're Canadian.

I got mine for just under 3 grand. That's a lot of money for a rifle and you Yanks are probably wondering what in hell is wrong with us Canukistanis for shelling out coin like that on a rifle like this. Lemme explain: our gubbermint is infested with fwenchmen, faggots, feminists and fools PLUS the usual incompetent idiots you guys have. They put the AR15 on the restricted list - but through their typical idiocy a few similar guns got through - and this was one of them. They're non-restricted which means the gubbermint doesn't track them the same way they do with pistols. That's a big deal here in Canada.

Is this thing a viable replacement for the AR15?

No. For three grand you can get a top tier AR that will shoot circles around it.

Is this a 'designated marksman's rifle'?

No. So far bulk factory ammo is coming in around 2 MOA off the bags and my handloads will bring that down to around 1.2 MOA. Some groups go sub MOA, some open up - I figure that is a good average. That is pretty average performance for a LOT of money spent. I got so damned mad, I threw it in the gun safe and forgot about it and bought a Springfield M1A match gun! And so it languished in the safe until I noticed it again and decided to get serious and actually wring the gun out.

Little chilly at the club today.... but oh so beautiful with the frost on everything...

I am just a smidge short of sub-MOA accuracy with Berger VLD match bullets.
That is a premium (expensive) bullet. Groups really open up with the
cheap stuff.
You can just barely see the frost on the stock where I snuggle up to it. That is
just condensation from my breath.

Shooting a proper benchrest technique might tighten up the groups a tenth of an inch or two... but over all this gun is a disappointment for bench shooting. But oooooohhhh.... the story changes when you go offhand! Your mileage will vary on this - but that rifle sits in my hands like it was born there. I can smack iron gongs with this beast from the positions as well as I can with any AR15! I dunno why that is - but there it is. I can shoot this gun better offhand than I can with a precision AR. And really, performance and accuracy aren't that bad for a shit house low profile barrel. Getting heavy bull or target barrels to shoot is easy - not so with the slim sporter and military barrels! It's controls and ergonomics will wipe the matt with the AR15 (and again, that is a matter of opinion - your mileage may vary).  My official comment is this: for the money you will easily get a better AR15. BUT: with the same R&D and after-marketing - I will bet this beast would be a better rifle. This is a piston gun and not a gas impingement system like the AR has. Much cleaner and easily as robust. I still have some tweaking and tinkering to do too and we'll see how that shakes out. Today was cold and windy and not the best for precision accuracy testing either.

I've been coming to this club for ... shoot - 30 YEARS now...
It's a beautiful piece of property...

This is Firebase Filthie. I almost killed Flapz
here when we did some winter camping and he got really cold. Shoot - that was almost 20 years ago too! WOW.
When we got back to town he promptly ordered some proper cold weather
camping gear.
Now that I'm older my blood doesn't run as hot and thick as it used to.
Still might try an overnighter here, soon though.
Cabin fever is setting in and it's only January...

Try and stay warm this weekend folks. She's a little windy out there...

Friday, 6 January 2017

The Old-Man-O-Sphere: Still Learning Things The Hard Way

One of the manly arts that is no longer taught in our institutions or our families is that of ‘conflict management’.

It’s one of the essential qualities in a leader which is why I am not a manager. I am normally aware of this flaw in my character and usually can stifle it or compensate for it – but not always. The manosphere often confuses the fighter with the manager and nothing could be further from the truth. Street fighters get old and become cranky old stubfarts – or they get killed, I suppose.

Uncle Bob and I disagree on the concept of the so-called ‘alpha-male’ but that is a matter of definitions. He sees the definition as being that commonly put forward in the manosphere where the Alpha Man is aggressive, smart, and tough and displays what Bob calls ‘The Dark Triad’ personality traits. He holds this stereotype in contempt, as do I.

I define the Alpha Man differently. These guys are aggressive, smart and tough – but they are also compassionate and truthful as well. They will often take charge and control of a social setting and nobody will object because they are fun and interesting to be around. When there is a problem, he is usually there first with an answer. He’s not only in control of his surroundings, he is in very firm control of himself and focused on his mission. Think of your average Navy SEAL, or the Rangers, Marines, etc – those guys are definitely fighters but they are THINKERS first – or at the very least, their leaders are and they try to instill that in their junior officers. They don’t go around looking for fights. They’re probably a lot like Uncle Bob, in fact. Yannow – I can (and have) said pretty much anything over at the Treehouse as do the other chimpanzees that drop in there to visit. Like the squaddies, Bob doesn’t get excited or revved up at offensive viewpoints. He doesn’t really go out looking for a fight but he is prepared for one if necessary. When the chit starts to fly, Bob just shrugs, hunkers down and laughs as the simian combatants shriek and splatter each other with rotten food and dung. Then he’ll calmly refute or agree with whatever chimp is in his graces and eventually The Law Of The Jungle will re-assert itself until he comes up with some other controversial viewpoint. He’s one of my regular stops on the internet and should be one of yours too! Leaders don’t lose their chit.

Recently I got into another food fight with another blogger. I’ve had issues with my modern progressive family that I won’t re-hash. Suffice it to say there was some fallout that left my family broken, with enough painful scarring to go around for everyone. My wife sought solace with the church and it works for her – they stress family and community values that my modern liberal family never had. I support her decision and may take it as my own one day. Long story short, one of my former readers hates Christians with the heat on 1000 suns, and he made it known in no uncertain terms, what he thought of me, my wife, and Christians in general. And he gave it to me with the whole nine yards! And that is where I made my mistake.

I battened down the hatches, I spun the guns around and I let HIM have it! “Why you sanctimonious, hare-lipped cripple bastard! Beak off about my wife??? How about we talk about YOUR failings and YOUR flaws?!?!” And from there on out, everything went to hell and it was game ON! If I ever met the man in question, he probably would have spit in my eye, and I would have given his fat, wheelchaired ass a short fast run down a long flight of stairs! HAR HAR HAR! ((Then the question for the blogosphere would have been “Is this a justifiable HOMO-cide or not?”)…and I dunno if it is worse to go with judges like WL and Quartermain or with a jury of my peers, HAR HAR HAR!)).

I’m not going to rehash a blog war; that’s not my point here. The point I would like to make is that this is the classic test for a real leader. When that blogger opened up on me and my family I responded emotionally – which may or may not have been justified, we will probably never know. Had I been a REAL leader and Alpha Man… my response would have been much different. Instead of opening fire and letting the hogs of war slip – I should have held my mud and thunk about it about it instead! Why is this guy attacking me? It would have taken two seconds! Had I taken the time to think and ask questions, a lot of childishness would have been prevented.

New commenter “Caddie” comes to the rescue: it’s obvious to you but went right past me because I had skin and ego in the game and once that happens, you end up with two idiots fighting with their danders up and neither of them is gonna get what he wants. Caddie thinks (and I agree) that the fellow in question is not very happy with himself.  Done! End of story, file it in the “No Shit Shylock” folder! It's as plain as the nose on your face.

This is why I am not a high rolling executive. This is why Uncle Bob lives in a 5 Star Treehouse and drives a Lotus. This is why Donald Trump flies in a jet that makes Airforce One look like a fly by night crate fit for flea bag shoe-shiners. These guys can THINK, usually a couple steps ahead, with their noggins rather than their guns. In the mean time I sit here with an idiot, covered in chimpanzee chit… and darned if I can’t start to see the humour of it too! Sticks and stones lose their momentum and impact if you know and understand the monkey throwing them. Dodging them becomes a piece of cake too. Stop laughing Bob, or I’ll clean myself off on your drapes!!!

What follows is optional reading. Everyone has a story, good or bad – and I am going to take a shot at that of my Christian-hating blogger. I don’t know a thing about this guy, or whether what I say is true or not – so some very large grains of salt may be required. It’s all guess work, but I will bet I come close on at least some details. Some of you younger guys might find it amusing.

Back in the 70’s America (and Canada) were a different place. The nation was at the height of its industrial/economic might. Jobs – good jobs – were everywhere. In those days, childish hippies went to university to smoke dope and take mickey mouse courses. When they graduated, they often took a year off to bum around Europe and ‘go find themselves’. Even stupid kids could find work. They became janitors, factory line workers, manual labourers and clerks and they made good money too – or at least enough to afford a modest home with all the trimmings. Corporations had not yet been bled dry by unions. And – in those days, if you were too dumb to do any oth that, it was as John Kerry once said – you went into the military. The cool kids like Alan Alda of M*A*S*H defined America’s ideas of the military at the time.

Every organization has it’s shirkers, slackers and malcontents and some of them were so skilled at playing the system and gaming their superiors, that it was actually CHEAPER and easier to pension them off. They caused so many head aches and problems for their fellow employees and superiors that getting rid of them at any cost looked like a viable option! You just can’t fire dummies that work for gubbermint or unions – to fire them your case has to be iron clad and bullet proof or you open yourself and your department up to law suits. The slackers and turdies knew this and how to take advantage of it too: disability scams became a means of early retirement for many of them. Today’s young men will grind their teeth in incredulous rage – they have their hands FULL trying to get good jobs while these hucksters can’t be bothered with the ones they have – but the scams actually worked well for everyone in a roundabout way. Our boy, in my hypothetical story, files a bogus disability claim. His superiors tip off the doctors and, eager to be rid of him, rubber stamp the papers, bid him a fake and fond adieu – and then - other than the next generation of tax payers – everyone wins. Our boy goes into retirement, his previous employers hire a responsible adult and everyone moves on.

The problem with retirement is that although you may be set for it financially – you have to be set for it psychologically as well as financially. What are you g\oing to do with all that free time you have now? It’s a serious problem – even for those that have gone into ethical retirements. Too often, men don’t give near enough thought to that and get lost in the financials. If you don’t have something to fill the time, you start living in your own head – and I think that might be what our boy here did. Maybe he’s pissed his life away, he’s coming up on that long dirt nap with no time left for a do-over or a mulligan, and he has nothing to show for his time. Maybe it’s left him bitter? Who knows?

Put yourself in that man’s place, and contrast that with your average well adjusted Christian in a similar position: he’s raised his family right, his kids are well adjusted adults ready to assume their responsibilities, raise kids of their own, and assume the old man’s duties when he’s gone. He’s at peace with his Maker and his soul, and can go over The Great Divide with the comfort of knowing he’s done all a man can ask of His son. As for our boy? He is going for a long dirt nap, with nothing more than a sigh from his relieved relatives who will be happy to be done with him.

Hey – it’s just a story that I pulled out of my butt, it may describe that man to a ‘T’ or maybe I missed by a mile. I seriously hope I’m wrong about all that. But it’s a couple of sobering thoughts for us guys to ponder as we go into the weekend. Do you have any fights you should walk away from? Are you ready for retirement? What are you going to do? How do you want to cash out when YOUR time comes? The time to think about that is NOW. Prolly it's a good time to DO something towards that too.

When I die I am probably going to be caked in excrement, with the smiling corpses of my arch enemies nearby. Maybe the less I think about that - the better…

Have a great weekend boys. See ya in hell! HAR HAR HAR!

Scrubbing The Scrubbers: Adios, MSN

Good lord.

The story's all over the internet: Four niggers captured are retarded white man and tortured him on film as they screamed racist insults at him, berated Trump and they cut him up a little. The usual politically correct chit show ensued. Black police chiefs went on the TV and said "Dey's just chillen, goan ta go ta collage won day... and dey just done sumpin' stupid...." Black baboons got prime media focus as the Dindu Nuffin crowd crawled out of the wood work. Last I heard, law enforcement and the judiciary are being forced almost at gun point to proceed with this as a 'hate crime'. They are essentially protesting that stupidity is a valid legal defence for niggers. Sorry, no links, most of the social media have scrubbed the vids and the pics of the four sullen gibbons responsible, but a few computer geek sharpies managed to do screen and vid captures and are posting them on blogs and more reputable internet news sites.

And yes, I AM using the 'n-word'. It applies and as far as I'm concerned the white racists are actually RIGHT about a few things and the black ones are pretty much wrong about everything. Deal with it.

Every day my web homepage comes up as MSN news. Yesterday the story was front and centre on it. Top stories usually stay for a day or two and then recede as they become outdated. This story lasted for a couple hours and then got scrubbed. Swept under the carpet. Sorry folks, nothing to see here, keep moving!

To the media slobs at the New York Times, The Globe and Mail, the Toronto Star... chit like this is why you can't sell a newspaper, or subscriptions or advertising. In the case of MSN, there is a race war brewing right under their noses and they replaced the story with one that has cute kittens in it. I took an extra 5 minutes today to figure out Windows 10 and replaced MSN's homepage with Bing.

Maybe it's just as well they scrub it because we all know how this one will shake out. For those persons of colour that can't read, I suspect the story will go same way all the others have: