No Regrats
We were chatting at the Saturday cigar club about life regrets. I’da thunk I’d have a veritable laundry list of them, given the antics of my fake and gay retarded fambily… but I was just astonished to find that I no longer do. Either I am retarded too - or I’ve gotten so bloody senile that maybe I lost my list of ragreets somewhere…? And maybe… I’m better off without it? It really is true… time changes and heals everything.
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But … They’re NICE People!!!
It’s high summer up here in Northern Alberta. The heat and the mosquitoes are terrible. I’m lucky because I’m so smelly and gross, that the bugs don’t bite me. But my poor wife… she gets bit and gets horrible big red welts. Even with copious amounts of bug dope. We were up north about 40 or 50 miles camping on our fall hunting grounds. We had lots of people with us including 6 dogs. It was non-stop pandemonium.
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That’s my new dawg. He’s getting buggered - by his father! That’s his real mom and dad in the pic! He’s a disgrace to the regiment, and no bones about it! FFS! To his credit, though - he put the run on his fudge packing father … and then tried to hump his mother! What a revolting little chit! He just HAS to be a liberal.
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Some people joined us the second day out. A couple lesbians. With a son. “But they’re nice people Filthie! You watch your damned mouth!” Flapz told me before they arrived. Had I known they were going to show up I probably wouldn’t have gone. One was reasonably pretty and presentable. The other was a scrawny tattooed bull dyke … and maybe it’s just me… but the bulls creep me right out. In their stead they were courteous, polite and discrete - unlike my retarded gay daughter. But the boy…ughhh. He’s being raised in ‘the long house’ by substandard parents and it shows. He’s already a mess and sounds like a flimp. I held my tongue and my nose when they talked about his psychological and behavioural problems… not my monkeys, not my circus.
But I hear the millennials and zoomers always idly day dreaming about the Day Of The Pillow… where they supposedly rise up and smother us wretched old boomers in our beds because we are responsible for this fallen world and all their woes and failures. I always say “go for it, kids! But remember - YOUR kids will live by your example… and when you are old and vulnerable… they are going to either take a chainsaw to you or put you through the wood chipper!” HAR HAR HAR! Even with the heat, the bugs and the perverts… it was good to get out. All my gear worked well and I have no complaints.
The wife’s small but complete camp kitchen
is rigged for foul weather
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Farts & Crafts: To Hell With Lanyards!
Well… I hate to say it… but this kid hit the nail right on the head:
I went through my paracord phase. I might make a hat band yet… but beyond that, I’m just done with paracord. But otherwise, I have come to hate the stuff. Lanyards and handle wraps made sense during the cold, long winter months when I was bored and hiding down in the Reclusium with all my plunder and hobbies. But out in the real world…these damned things are just a nuisance. I’ll keep a couple 25 or 50 footers in my stores … but otherwise I’ll leave it to the squaddies.
Nowadays I am infatuated with nylon webbing and strapping. Cordage has it’s place, but webbing is infinitely stronger than paracord, there’s no intricate knots and loops to learn, and you can do anything ya need to do with some cheap plastic buckles and sliders. My home made nylon slings are a smash hit with my friends and make great cheap gifts. Then I found some cheap Chinese cobra style buckles and started making belts. I love these things. One of my pet peeves in retireMINT life is long range dawg patrols. I get an hour or two out, and by the time I get home my bladder is bursting and I’ll be on the verge of losing containment, if ya catch my drift. Every second counts as I race to the pissoire to relieve myself… and these buckles almost blow apart with a gentle squeeze. But once the emergency is over ya buckle back up… and they stay buckled. I think ya get two for 20.00 bucks on Amazon and they’re great for casual, non-critical applications. But… if you’re suspending loads and working with tension and weight… a real cobra buckle will set ya back close to 100 bucks. That’s because they are designed to hold serious load tension and still effortlessly come apart. If you haven’t seen these yet… you need to look into them.
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Otherwise… that’s it for now. I thought I’d check in and catch up. But before I go - did any a youse guys get suckered and go see that latest Hollywood production of The Odyssey? I had to laugh when they loaded the cast up with troons and race swapped the nogs in! My sources are saying it’s not a woke film… but it still sucks. It’s long and boring, supposedly. I suppose if you’re a cinema geek and get off on lighting, dialogue and imagery it’s alright? But if you are looking for entertainment… prepare to be disappointed. Again..
I seriously miss the old days when we could still tell a story. The Odessey is a 2700 year old classic… and the fags of Hollywood STILL messed it up! Way to go, guys!
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Thanks for stopping by to check in on me, we’ll talk again soon.
Cheers,
Filthie
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