Introductions

 

"Okay Chief! Comms should be up!" Viktor said. "How's the sat doing Sally?" 

"Everything nominal Vic," Sally was on comms for initial contact, as the station would be running its communications through the satellite they'd originally planned to deploy. "Configuring the sat was easier than we thought! Any time, Chief!" Everything was jury rigged but would have to do until proper comms were set up with the newcomers.

The Chief harrrumppfffed and keyed the mic. "This is the ISS to unknown vessel - could you please identify yourselves and your intentions? You are in a great deal of trouble - this is controlled airspace and you just about killed yourselves and us, and wiped out a multibillion dollar facility in the process! What country are you out of? Your presence here is causing a hazard!”

There was a brief burst of static and some garbled truncated voice... and then the newcomers came in loud and clear. "Hey guys!!! Hey - sorry for the scare a couple days back. Our helmsman is a hare lipped redard and can't tell his left from his right at the best of times, and the idea of clockwise vs counterclockwise is beyond him -" in the background, some guffaws and heckling came in over the radio.

The Chief paused, at a total loss for words. He was literally pole axed, with his mouth half open. He looked at his shipmates in total bewilderment. Slowly his face turned a light shade of purple.

" I REPEAT. IDENTIFY YOURSELVES AND STATE YOUR INTENTIONS!" he thundered. "You've violated our airspace, you illegally moored yourselves to this station - MOORED, not docked - and your presence here is causing international tensions that could lead to gunfire unless you can start coming up with answers! WHO is in charge over there?!?!?"

Sally reached over and cut the Chief off and killed the radio. "Chief, there'll be time enough for that. You're no good to us if you have a stroke. Use some diplomacy! Or go lay down and let Vic do the talking."

The Chief pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to ward off a migraine. The radio crackled and came to life again."Do we have a boss here, guys?" In the background a discussion broke out. "No we don't! And because Bob is a fucken retard... looks like you're up Pete!" someone said. More chortling and guffaws came in over the speakers. The Chief looked like he was about to explode. Carefully he fought to bring himself back under control.

"Who. Are. You..." he choked.

"You can call me anything you like if you’re a tax collector - but my friends call me Pete," the speaker said. In the background someone called out "Pete The Meat! He can't be beat!" More guffaws and laughter crackled over the speakers.

The astronauts on the ISS tried to stifle smirks and chuckles. The Chief looked like he had gone catatonic. Vic gently cut the radio and nudged him aside. "May I, Chief? You look like you need a BIG drink..."

"Hey guys, Viktor Kuznetsov here, cutting in. Mission Specialist, Systems - glad to meet ya! So - why are you guys out here? What can we help you with? Over."

"Hi Vic!" A number of voices responded in childish unison. " Shaddup you lot! I'm on the damn radio! Be quiet! Pete here again, Vic. Sorry for the noise! And... hey - sorry for scaring everyone and being a pain. We're just a bunch of old farts and we came out here specifically NOT to be a nuisance to anyone… and do what we want without getting hassled by the bureaucrats and scolds back on the ground! Errr... looks like we kinda shat the bed on that one... but we're piddling around with recreational space flight and trying to keep ourselves busy without getting in the way."

Vic sat back, genuinely amused. Sally leaned in over him and keyed the mic. "Hey guys - Sally MacRay here, Payload Specialist - no problem! All's well that ends well, right?'" she lied smoothly. "You'll have to forgive us - we've never met recreational astronauts before. It's a historical first, I guess? That's an odd hobby for anyone. How did you fellas get out here? And why did you moore up with us? We have a TON of questions for you: HOW did you get out here? There's no engines on that thing we can see... WHY are you here - as in here, moored up with us? Over."

Like a gaggle of children, the greeting came back followed by everyone talking at once. "Hi Sally" the happy newcomers called in unison. Again, Pete cranked at his crew. "For the last time - shut your damned gobs! One at a time!!! Can it, you morons!" There was a pause and some further muffled conversations and curses. A loud smack and a grunt of pain was heard. "JEEEEZ...!!!" someone groaned in pain.

Vic made sure the mic was cut. Solemnly he declared "Sally, Chief... I think we're dealing with The Three Stooges..." The Chief got up. "You deal with them them, Vic? I have things to do and need to get some rolaids... and fuck those guys..." .

****

"We don't want to be a pain, you guys... but the reason we wanted to hook up with you is that we *think* we have a revolutionary new propulsion technology and - we'd like to sell it! The problem in our country is that the gubbimint fart suckers will steal it if we try to sell it, and if they don't... their cronies and fart catchers will. We wanted to bypass the bureaucrats, grifters and fart catchers and deal directly with the big players. Ideally we'd like to sell to the Americans. That's the big reason we snuck up on you guys the way we did." Pete said. "We are hoping you might be able to put us in touch with President Trump and/or Elon Musk so that we can do a deal and get out of everyone's hair. Is there any chance you kids could tee up a conference call for us? We have something here that we genuinely think is worth their time - and yours!"

Vic and Sally paused and stared at each other, dumbfounded.  

****

GAB:

****

“Okay guys - word’s in from ground side: were to cooperate with our geriatric friends across the way. The higher ups want proper comms with them too. Vic, Sally and Kenji - you’re up. The Whitehouse wants to talk to these guys as does everyone else. We want audio and visual… and we’ll need to slave it to our systems here. We don’t want these guys talking to Chairman Xi or Putler behind our backs. Any feasibility problems with that, Vic?”

“Not a problem Chief. We have just what you’re looking for in spares, complete with freq hopping and encryption hardware. The only problem might be the lockout…If I’m lucky we can tackle that through the firmware. Gimme about an hour and a half…?”

The Chief nodded. “Good - Sally, Vic… check your suits, and prep ‘em. Looks like you might have to go over there and do an install and social call too. I’ll get them on the blower when everyone’s ready. Are we good to go? Any questions?”

Later that day the ISS got their first view of their new neighbours.

An old man leered out from the monitor screen. “Hey guys! Pleased to meet ya! I’m Pete!” An argument broke out, with the men anll talking ant once - and the camera then focused on the crew. Pete introduced his team from left to right. “So - that big fat mutt on the left is Chains. He’s the Mission Welder, Plumber who has his hands full keeping us and the O2 in, and the vacuum out.. Next over, that obviously retarded cretin is Finless Bob. He invented the propulsion systems and does our piloting and helps out Chains when he has to. Finally… that’s my Dad, Pete Senior. He’s our passenger and Super cargo.”

“Ya forgot someone, Pete.” Chains gestured at something off camera. 

Pete The Meat reached up and brought down a sleeping, curled up orange tabby cat. “Sorry everyone! This is Stinky Pete. We had to bring him along because he doesn’t get along with kids and he bit and scratched the Grandkids.”

The men beamed as the crew of the ISS formally introduced themselves, the women fawned over Stinky Pete, and welcomed them to the ISS as if they were honoured guests. At length, the Chief shooed everyone away and then addressed the old men.

“Okay fellas! Glad we could help you out! The President and his advisors have agreed to a conference call tomorrow at 10:00 am MST. Is there anything else we can do for you before we sign off for the night shift?”

“We’re good sir! And thanks for the assist on the radio equipment! If we ever see any of you groundside - we’d love to buy ya a coffee!”

The Chief signed off and smiled. The old guys didn’t belong out here… but he liked having them around. They weren’t half bad once you got used to them. He worried about their safety.

Already The Wrong People Are Asking The Wrong Questions

 

You know the rules. Nobody knows nothing in the first 24 hours. Near as I can tell it’s been close to 18 hours and still… theres no info on the pilots.. Just saw the crash footage. The plane came in too steeply and was either going to slow, or mechanical/pilot failure made it impossible to flare the aircraft on landing.

Who knows. Maybe DEI flunkies built the airplane. Maybe Darwin or Murphy decided to have a little fun? Maybe shit just happened?

We may never know…

War Maps: Gather Round Men

 Smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em everyone. Grab a coffee and go read. While you’re reading…let me unfurl this big map while you’re filling yourselves in. We’ll need some paper weights to hold the corners down - JL, can you put your sidearm on that corner of the map over there? I’ll put my ashtray over here, Chutes’ll put his coffee mug over there… Cederq? Seriously? A butt plug? GAH… okay on that corner over there… and let’s see what we got, here:

Hrrrrrrmmmm.

If something like this goes into effect I’ll be in either Jefferson or 

Saskratchmebum?

Doesn’t matter to me, I’ve been a man without a country for

40 years now….

Well? Didjya read it? Whadda you think? Being Yanks, you probably haven’t given it much thought. I’m of a mind to dismiss it too, at this point. Everything is very, very preliminary at this point but we all should be interested or at least concerned. The fact is that Canada is a very broken country and has been for most of my adult life. Ordinarily I’d look at all this with some approval and give it a thumb’s up. As long as nobody does anything stupid it could work. One thing is clear. Canada HAS to change. But the gov’t of Canada CAN’T change. Not at this point. Even if they wanted to, they couldn’t. 

If I were to take this meeting of deplorable, fringe gathering of fascists, racists, homophobes and chauvinists seriously, I’d advise extreme caution. If we were to do this… there are some realities that I fear John may have misunderstood or even gotten wrong in his poast. If you look at where Morontario and Queerbec used to be on that map… you’re basically looking at carbon copies of California and New York. The human trash there makes leaders like Gavin Newsom almost a certainty. Do you need more creeps like that? Further out into the Maritimes they’re much the same, perhaps marginally better? Half those fuggin clam diggers and cod gobblers are welfare bums. If you blow this you’ll have morons vooting for Bidens and vegetables until the continent collapses under the weight of its own stupidity. In fact - stupidity IS their number one export from the eastern provinces.

Something like this might be better done very slowly and in stages. If Ibwere advising Blumpf I’d recommend the first incursion be into Alberta. The majority of us are much like Montana or Texas in our outlooks and growing numbers of us are fed right up with the faggotry from the east. Saskatchewan and Manitoba can come on once the teething problems are worked out. But from Ontario east? The country is a moral and intellectual write-off. Those assholes dont understand the value of money, of customers or of allies. They are largely the reason the country runs this way. They will need to suffer their consequences before they’ll have the wisdom, humility and gratefulness to be worth a damn. I wish I were wrong about that. As Blumpf noted… they have nothing you need. At least … for now.

BC. What a truly sad case. The most beautiful real estate is on the lower mainland, and the socialists have built a dump on it. It’s infested with pakies, chinks, red niggers, and druggies. What is it in Hongcouver, JL? The lower east side? It looks literally like the set off The Walking Dead. Hunched over druggies shamble about or just stand in place - their minds destroyed by drugs. Like areas of San Francisco…it’s an open air drug den. Northern BC is touch and go. But Hongcouver is a veritable bastion of perversion, degeneracy and failure. Were it up to me I’d build a wall around Hongcouver, nothing goes in, nothing comes out…and I’d fill it up with water. 

The North? Very thinly populated, mostly pissed up drunks and natives for the most part.they won’t be a hindrance, but they won’t be of any use either. Theres gold and uranium and I think possibly heavy earth elements there… setting up mining operations would be a piece of cake in a normal country.

Western Canada, starting in Alberta would be my bet. And after driving that wedge into Canada, I’d tariff the effing shit out of what’s left. 

Comments? Exceptions? Alternatives? As we discussed, everything is very preliminary at this point. But if we get a protracted trade war… this place is going to look like Cuba or the Ukraine if we aren’t careful, and that won’t be good for anyone.

I think a lot of the problem comes from people

thinking that education bestows wisdom.

All education is not necessarily GOOD education, and a lot of

of our worst problems have come right out of

our universities.

An Oversight: .458 SOCOM

Back on the oddball AR thread we briefly touched on some a the other interesting chamberings. I might be tempted to dabble with the 6.5 Grendel… but some a the others brought up the .458 SOCOM. I personally wouldn’t even consider it - for me it poses the exact same problems as the new 338 ARC: it calls for big heavy jacketed bullets, and that means big $$$$. Compounding my personal problems with it: I have a 45-70 rolling block, a 45-75 Winchester bottleneck, and I think someone ran off with my 45-70 Marlin Guide Gun. I  *think* Flapz got it and then his son stole it from him in turn….😂👍). I already have a bevy of big thumpers… and the idea of pipsqueak variant out of my AR squirt gun didn’t really appeal to me. But… not so fast, Filthie!

Ahhhhhhhh.  Perfect!!!

 

A compact variable is the proper way to top

off the AR! 

😊👍

That beast’d be right at home in JL’s

RCMP patrol car…

But then BCE sent me this on the email.

“Had me (past tense) the same .458 SOCOM.  I wanted to (at the time) have the BIGGEST round available for the AR Platform.  I used to load my own, but bought for the home defense factor the Black Butterfly Maximun Fracturus rounds, a 260gn Hollowpoint which acts more like a hand grenade when it hits... vidya here…”

.458 SOCOM.

BFYTW!!!

Tiny continues:

Sold it b/c as said $5-7 a round was a bit spendy

Check out the vid.
The .458 SOCOM was fucking retarded and developed by and for Special Forces who wanted a HUUUUGE round for one-hit kills during night time raids on the Haj in close quarters combat when 5.56mm had too much over-penetration for the mud-and-brick houses in both the Stan and Iraq.  9mm and .45 is good, but they wanted "Moose-Killing" level sized boolit so when they shot someone with it, it'd blow them the fuck up while still being subsonic and suppressed.

Just some 'squaddie' FYI on that 'un for you.”

Holy shit!!! There’s gonna be a metric TONNE of hurt n’ hate on one a those! That’s only a 260 grain bullet so the trajectory might just be half decent out to 200 yards? But - alas…AR’s dont do well with cast lead and their filthy lubes, so I’m told. Even if they did - you’d need gas checks, I think? 

Obviously this is not a round for the gun club duffer. But it’d be hell on wheels if you’re after rag heads, Russians or dog robbers! The recoil wouldnt be that bad either…it might be an excellent round for the cops to consider, maybe…? 

SO - okay. There are actually TWO interesting odd ball calibres for the AR.  I stand corrected!

Final note: I guess Tiny can’t poast here because all he gets is an error message when he tries. As far as I know - my blog isn’t set to flag or mute anyone. If anyone else is experiencing problems - please shoot me an email and let me know! I don’t censor the comments generally speaking except for the spammers. Sometimes I get thumb fingered when I try to publish the comments and I’ve had a few - including my own - accidentally go into the spam bucket. 

Your comments, as always, are sincerely appreciated .

Filthie

 

Bum Fights

 

Up here in Canukistan the sportzballers are all bragging that the Canooks beat the yanks like rented mules. Take THAT, you stupid Americans!!!  

Funny how this works, ininit? We all need to boycott products made by the evil capitalist American pig dogs… but…hockey? Great Caesar’s ghost!!! We ALL gotta go shell out $75.00 for tickets, and go cheer our brains out for the home team… and maybe get in a fight in the stands or out in the parking lot….

😂👍

Stupid places filled with stupid people, I guess? The ol’ nickel about avoiding crowds may apply here.