Stubfart Range Report
Well I hit the range on Tuesday and absolutely stunk out the club with my marksmanshit. It’s time to get serious about the upcoming 2026 hunting season. There’s none of this shite about bagging up and shooting off the bench and chronographing loads and measuring groups with the calipers anymore. It’s time to be a rifleman again. At 100m, offhand, I shot 5 out of 10 into the lethal kill zone on a deer - which is about 4 to 6 inches in diameter. The other 5 were scattered all over the target which indicates to me a lack of concentration, trigger control and follow through. That’s okay - I can work with that - for a start. I can tell that I’ve pooched the shot even before it hits the target, and roughly call where it landed before formally checking it in the spotting scope. From the crossed ankles sitting position at 100m all ten were in the kill zone. At 200m I got 6 out of ten in… but I don’t think I will try the little 223 at that range…? I don’t trust it has the horsepower at that range for a clean kill… even in the kill zone. This all will improve. It just takes trigger time. I had so much fun with the li’l Tupperware rifle that I never even got to my .22 rimfire before I had to pack up and go home. Ferg and Hannah were at home and had to go out to pee and walk. I seriously need a couple days just to shoot and shake hands with guns I haven’t fired in years.
The pond beside the range is just drier than a bone. There were a couple mud hens and mallards out on the ice by the beaver lodge, and about 250 yards away on the other side of it… a big mangy old moose was foraging. I think it is going to be a tough year for the game… but whadda I know?
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Friends N’ Neighbours: The Kids Are Not Alright
I’m watching one of the younger men at church getting ready to walk off a financial cliff - again. B married poorly when he was a young man and got raped in family court. He lost his small trucking company, his house, truck, etc etc. He remarried and he’s spending like a drunken sailor. His new/old house needs repairs, his adopted kids need everything, and his ex wife is dragging him into court again. In Alberta alimony apparently stops when the kids turn 18. In Morontario, it continues if the kids go into secondary education or university. His kids took out loans to go to school, they no longer live at home with the old lady but she is dragging him into court anyways as a “Hail Mary” in hopes of getting more money out of him. Apparently there are all kinds of holes in her argument, B’s lawyers say it’ll get thrown out when it goes to court… but it’ll cost him upwards of $5k in legal fees to get his ex out of his wallet and out of his life. But he wants to buy a new motorcycle (and he lectures me on why his choice of bikes is much better than mine). He wants to buy guns that are all much better than mine, and an RV that’s much better than mine… “and by the way, Filthie… Can you be a sport and drive me to the lawyer’s office downtown…?” Apparently his shit box car was broken down again. I wasn’t lying when I told B I had a dental appointment today.
😂👍
I don’t mind about his sanctimonious lectures about my poor choices in life… he’s an expert and knows more about everything than I do… but Hell’s bells… I may be retired… but I have better things to do than be his driver. He’s taken to using me for his errands and I’ll be a good sport. Up to a point. I went to the dentist today, and B will need to maybe get his car fixed.
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Friends N’ Neighbours
A lot of kids are struggling these days. I stole this one off of Joe in Eaton Rapids. Thankfully it appears to be AI slop, and Magic is actually good with his son… even if he is a bit of a froot. I was initially fooled by it as he was. It punched me right in the guts because of my own history with my militant lesbian daughter. After years of estrangement… I finally came to a peace of sorts with what happened. All the perps are long gone, a few bad actors in all that dramatic chaos are dead and others may as well be. I realized I hadn’t thought about my daughter in some time. Some of the sorrow and anger came trickling back but I pushed it down. The only thing my shitlib idiot enabling in-laws got right about that family feud is that at some point, kids gotta do what they’re gonna do. And your job as a parent ends; when it does, you can either go along for the ride, or not. I opted out; my daughter was moving into a degenerate lifestyle and had adopted all the inverted morals and ethics that went along with it. I hated it, I tried to talk and reason with her… but like B… she was an expert, she knew it all, I was wrong about everything. And at this point of her life was where I got off. It was a good call, as hard as it was. I didn’t want to be on that bus when it went over a cliff. I got out of that abusive relationship permanently and remarkably lightly.
Some are not so lucky. All a dad can give… is everything. And there’s a fine line between giving kids what they want and what they need. I think back on my idiot in-laws, scolding me and telling me that kids have to make their own decisions and we as parents HAVE to support them. (Funny how that never applied to them…). Do you support your kids when they are about to train wreck their lives? Do you support them when they are going to destroy themselves? How do ya know which is which? All dads can do after a certain point is take their lumps. From where I sit… given the current state of wokeness, feminism, faggotry and all the other facets of Clown World… I don’t recommend it. I’m throwing up a few prayers for Tiny and his fam. Some of us’ll have to sort this bullshit out in the next realm I guess. It ain’t right, but maybe theses things look different from a higher perspective than mine.
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Tobacca Road
My tobacco sprouts came up… finally. I had a jar of dried out pipe tobacco that doesn’t smoke very well. I also had a bottle of Caribou Crossing whiskey that is so smooth… it’s actually pretty plain. The meter said 65% relative humidity on the tobacco which should have been good… but to me it just seemed dry and bland. So I got a tiny shred of paper towel, soaked it in the whiskey and then threw it in with the ‘baccy. The relative humidity is now 75%… and it smokes like a dream. I may just assign that bottle to tobacco restoration and other emergency medicinal purposes.
Hope your week is going well, fellas. And spare a prayer for those having a rough one.
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