Sunday, June 16, 2024

Happy Gay Pride Month Father’s Day



This is a screenshot of a conversation my daughter recently
took part in… 

The usual procedure for Father’s and Mother’s Day at this blog is to wish the parents well, maybe play some toons or crack a rude joke. Those sentiments hold this year as well… but… we live in increasingly evil times. The old nickel goes that the best stunt the devil ever pulled was convincing us he doesn’t exist. I can assure you he does.

His evil propagates just like this: One otherwise perfectly good kid at a time. Kids just like yours. For context, in this conversation the girls (my daughter and her creepy girlfriend) - were encouraging some mixed up young lady to be a man and cut off her tits… and don’t forget to have some fun and give Dad the finger while you’re at it. 

My daughter is 39 years old. She knows exactly what she’s doing, she knows it’s wrong, and she’s doing it anyways. She calls it a win when these confused teens blow up their families. The usual way it works with sexual degenerates is that after they come out or convert, they attack their families. Usually the father. The really messed up ones go after their mothers and that’s when things get really nasty. Which explains my daughter’s creepy girlfriend. I feel for her mom. No woman deserves a daughter like that. No father does either.

There are a lot of young ladies in my daughter’s community. They have issues, they’re vulnerable and they have people like my daughter influencing them all the time and they’re everywhere. In their community, wrecking families, having daddy issues, posing as victims are a way of life. These awful women are experts at getting around mothers and fathers, undermining them and demonizing them to the little ones. The law protects them as they prey on kids. As you see here, when things advance enough, they drive a wedge into the family by confiding in mom, and swearing her to secrecy while they isolate dad and neutralize him as a parent. My daughter did it to me, her girlfriend would have done it to her father (mom stepped in and refused to play along), and they advise the younger women to do it. When Pop finds out he’s been betrayed and lost his wife and daughter, his heart breaks. Then the fun begins. Dad either cucks and bends the knee to Clown World or the family implodes when he rejects it. Many implode regardless. Either way, dad is in for a world of hurt and will not be the same man when he comes out the other side. 

When young women are exposed to this…you’ve got the devil knocking on your door, Dad. If you don’t do something about it, he’ll move in with your daughter and live right under your own roof. When your heart breaks, your daughter and her coven of spiteful girlfriends will laugh at your pain and connive among themselves on ways to make it worse. They will try and draw others in the family into it with as much drama as possible. For them - this is fun. To everyone else it’s evil…and most will refuse to see it until it’s upon them and it’s too late. It happened to me.

After the beers and BBQ today, Dad…have a quiet chat with your wife. Tell her right out front that you won’t tolerate the keeping of secrets like this that involve the kids. You have to know when this shit is setting up. If you can’t do that - you have other serious problems. Maybe you need to think it through yourself: you can go along with the herd and accept and tolerate the sin and evil that goes along with it, but let’s be honest: if you do your kid will end up doing exactly what mine is doing, which is spreading this cancer. Do you want to support and enable that? If you don’t…you’re looking at cancellation and banishment while your daughter burns down the family for yuks. These people are in their glory, burning things down. The schools, the churches, the Boy Scouts, the movies and entertainment industry. The diversity freak show is burning down our nations as we speak. No father wants to see evil in his kids. But… Hell’s bells, Dad…look at what they’re doing. The wheels are starting to come off in big ways now. 

There’s a lot of dire questions for ya, Dad. Trust me…you want to sort this stuff out ahead of time, and know where you’re going before you get there. If you don’t… Welp…you may literally find yourself staring stupidly about at laughing demons when your daughter’s tits fall off at the dinner table. HAR. HAR. HAR. 

You don’t have to save the world, Dad. Just your little corner of it.

Best of luck to you and Mom.

Happy Father’s Day

Filthie

Saturday, June 15, 2024

The Filthie Frumpette

 


Ever see those fashion/glamour pics of women wearing knitted clothing? I don’t care how pretty the girl is - none of ‘em look good in it. Mind you…I don’t know any women that can knit like that… 

One of the masculine arts is that of marriage manageMINT. Knitting is the best thing since sliced bread for your woman. The old saw about how “idle hands are the devil’s workshop” was written for women. Us guys can be happy as clams just loafing and enjoying the peace and quiet. But women gotta be busy or their mouths run away with ‘em and their hands follow…and you’ll have all kinds of trouble on your hands if you’re not careful. Knitting is a great way to shut them up and keep them busy. They’ll still talk but if ya listen to them they’ll be happy as clams too.

Usually.



Friday, June 14, 2024

Retard Olympics: The Filthie Track Star

 


Friday Ramble: Shut Up And Take The Win

The recent passing of my father is slowly becoming an established reality around here.  It’s tough for me, when people leave and there’s that hole in your life to get used to. Dads, dawgs n’ daughters hurt the most. It takes a while to get used to that empty space. There are days I feel like I could just hop on the bike and go visit… or call him up on the phone. 

Mom’s gone bonkers but for her it was a very short trip. I avoid her if I can. I walked by the other day with the Niglet and dropped in to make sure the old bitch was still alive and it went surprisingly well. Nevertheless I kept the visit short. She played with the pup, I had a quick cup of coffee and then we left. We had miles to make (which was true) and it’s always good to get out while the gettin’s good. 



Mom is like a bowl a chocolates
a carton of rotten eggs…

HAR HAR HAR πŸ˜‚πŸ‘ HAR HAR HAR!!!

So earlier in the week I’m goofing off when I should be going all out on chores, and I get sandbagged by that awful karmic wheel of justice that God built for FOWGs. It never fails!  You’ll be stealing a beautiful morn at the range, or catching a quick, restful nap in the garage or potting shed when you should be working - and something awful will happen. The dawg starts retching and vomiting on the carpet. Or a nasty unexpected bill shows up in the mail. Or you get a text from your mom. I don’t get it - ya watch on the news and there’s millionaires and billionaires committing mass murder and molesting children and flipping off the nations they’re supposed to lead…and it’s no problem! They do it with impunity! But if I play a little hookey…instant, devastating punishMINT. Every. Single. Time.
🀬🀬🀬

So mom orders me to come by. I know it’s gonna be stupid, whatever it is. So I hop on the bike and go over to take my lumps. She invites me in pours me a decaff… and then she goes to work on me: I need to grow up and sell my bike before it kills me. I gotta act my age. The stereo on my bike is stupid and loud. I’m too fat and picking up weight. I don’t pull my weight in the family and don’t come around enough. I’m not training the Niglet properly. Ten minutes later she’s on politics…Did I turn in all my awful guns to comply with Justin Turdo’s gun bans? I lied at her and then she’s busting my chops for being a dirty rotten liar…and then she gets political… so I interrupt as nicely as I can and ask her what she needs done. I end up moving some heavy statuary around in her garden. When I’m done she goes to work on me again but I’ve had enough. I say the dawg is at home and needs to be let out to pee…so I’d better get moving…

And Mom gets quiet and pissy… and hands me a cheque for $25,000.00. Apparently Pop had a small life insurance policy and she was giving me a cut. As a gift. I try to tell her it’s too much, the family doesn’t owe me a thing but that just makes for more insults so I fold it up, put it in my pocket and left. I get home, put it on the kitchen table, forget about it and go do chores. I finish up and come in…and I see that cheque on the table. I go downstairs to clean guns. The Reclusium is in shambles and needs a cleaning…

The next day I get up and look at it as I eat my breakfast. I go outside and drop the oils on the bike and the mower and give them a good cleaning. I come in at lunch and the cheque sits there, so afterward I go out and start sweeping out the garden shed. Afternoon coffee roles around, and I see the cheque…and I take the Niglet out for a walk. Mr. Hal E. Tosis around the corner has a new pup we had to meet…

Each time I look at that cheque on the table, I just see that big gaping hole Pop left. I don’t understand it, but there it is. How the two things are related is beyond me. Depositing that money in the bank will be an act of finality of some kind and I’ve just been putting it off and procrastinating for a week now. Poor mom…it must have killed her to write that cheque, HAR HAR HAR! She’ll be going bonkers soon if she doesn’t see that money go out of her account and I will be in shit again. She sticks in my craw with this too. I HATE taking money from her. She has more money than God but she expects her money’s worth, if ya catch my drift. As far as she goes… she owes me money! If I added up all the bitching, shit and abuse…GAH! Oh well, I probly deserved it all and I learned a lot from it … so maybe I’ll call that a wash and be done with it. 
πŸ€£πŸ‘

Today, I am resolved. I’m going to get off my arse, go down to the bank and deposit it. I’m going to spend it too. I’m going to do some much needed home reno stuff. The veranda looks like hell, I’d like a deck out back… maybe I’ll get a dishwasher again? Spending money is something I have to force myself to do; I am a saver by nature. 

I’m going to say a quick prayer for Pop.

I’m strongly tempted to let my Maker know that his cosmic karmic FOWG wheel is broken… but… is it? Ya never know with that Guy… or at least, I don’t.

Have a great Friday.

Filthie

North American Cougar

 



Thursday, June 13, 2024

Not Pointing Any Fingers At Anyone…

 …but this is how it happens.





Let’s be careful out there, men! πŸ˜‚πŸ‘

Why…?

 


I don’t get it. I get the big round bails…but …these?