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Darkly Dreaming Demographic.

Where weird shit hits bizarre fans.

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Knife collecting

Chapter 14″Legendary Weapons” (Raw)

Bonjour chaps and chappetes, or all the three people that read this shit. As you may have noticed I haven’t posted for a while. I’m not sorry, life and my day job has been on top of me like a horny silver back that thinks my ass is full of bananas. And I went on holiday, I know woe is me, I went to Barbados to drink drinks with tiny umbrellas in them. Also been doing a lot of baking and cooking like a manwife but that’s neither here nor there.
Well I’m back on track now for a couple of months so I should be posting regularly again until July. As you can see, got a new raw chapter of GS and a new edited chapter which I’ve yet to work through but I will. Also got a lot more money at the ready, what with all the day jobbing so I can afford a lot more chapters to be professionally edited and maybe a few more knives to review so hold out for that.

Without further ado I’ll get on with schlocking the new chapter. Lots of lovecraft in this one, lots of action. It’s a pretty fun set up to probably the most fucked up action/gore wise the entire book goes into. So it was pretty fun to write, a lot of my heart and baby batter went into it and I hope you enjoy it. As usual for copyright/paranoia purposes this is just an excerpt and you can check the full chapters in order on inkitt linked below.

Chapter 14

~

An obnoxious beam of light perforated the dry dusty dark. Translucent fingers of light fumbling over burnt play mats and wooden toys. Simple wind up toys melted and disfigured by a burnt out fire. Frilly petticoats of little cotton dolls, singed beyond repair. Cheap plastic action figures curled into a praying position by a burst of intense heat. Grey and black ashes making a shifting carpet of despair. The light brisk morning air breezed through the holes in the roof of the burnt out nursery.

Bodies strung nonchalant from the buckling ceiling of the single storey building. The beams of which were melted and twisted. But remained the only thing keeping the building together. The bodies, some of which were burnt, most of were not. Fresh looking ones, some with biker gear indicating how disposable they were, some without. Their heads crushed or missing or pulled apart like soft pizza dough.

The bodies swayed in the delicate breeze, suspended by their feet to the steel beams in the ceiling. Exposed as they were by the collapsing asbestos tiles. Tied there with skipping ropes and belts and ties and anything on hand. Clear tape and shoe laces worked well. Despite the noisey crinkling sounds it made as the bodies swung.

As the bodies parted, swinging free. An inhuman gargantuan figure appeared. Hunched over a toybox turned altar for some obscure obsession.

Whispering, whispering, hoarse whispering. A sudden shrill whistling sound. Followed by sharp clap and a low rumbling shook the foundations of the building. Tossing up sickly plumes of grey and black dust and ash.

“It’s time Lamby.” Jeff said as he picked up the plush lamb off the toybox altar and shoved it gracelessly into his fanny pack. Zipping it up litigiously, he began to walk out of the crestfallen building.

~

TJ lay on his back on the floor of his living room, his eyes open but seeing nothing. The room spun around and he felt black wings circling. The ceiling fan getting closer and closer and he couldn’t move. He was frozen in place, a three hundred pound greasey paper weight staring into nothing.

“TJ can you hear me? We don’t have time for this.” Sunday knelt at his side, pushing the coffee table off at a jaunty angle making a loud screeching noise. “TJ, I need you to wake up” She took one of his sweaty hands and cupped it in her cold palms. “I need you.” She placed his large hand with its chubby digits on her chest. And delicately probed her humble breast with the large clumsy instrument. “Shit if that didn’t work” She said as she dropped his meaty forearm onto the carpet.

“I didn’t tell you anything about myself. I know this isn’t the best time.” She turned around on the floor to sit beside him. Lifting her knees up to rest her forearms on and cradle her head as she spoke. “But I get it, it hurts, I know that more than anyone.” She turned her head away from him, resting on her forearms across her skinny knees. Her face becoming drawn and moist “Losing someone, sucks, fuck that sounded dumb.” She laughed at herself as she sniffed back a few tears.

“I came from a town just like this, it wasn’t exactly like this, close enough.” She lifted her head up and looked at the catatonic TJ. She smiled as she wiped her nose on the sleeve of an old disturbed hoodie she found in the closet. “I was pretty normal, went to school, most of the time, went for walks, took out the garbage.” she took a sharp inhale of breath.

“My parents died when I was really young. Me and my brother spent most of our childhood in foster care. Oh yeah forgot to mention, I have an older brother, Adam, Adam Evens. That’s my last name, Sunday Evens, pleased to meet you.” She said as she smiled reaching over to shake TJ’s limp hand before dropping it back down onto the carpet.

“He pretty much raised me, taught me how to fight, don’t know who taught him. Taught me how to fix cars, I’m pretty handy with a blowtorch. That was the first job he got, worked in a body shop. As like an apprentice to this skeezy old fuck who was always trying to pick me up. I was like fourteen, he wasn’t a bad old guy, just kind of a freak” She looked straight at the wall “Aren’t we all?”

“It was hard, but we made it, we were something close to happy. Didn’t have anyone to tell us to get up or go to bed or do our homework, but we did it. We had to, we were all we had in the world, an island in a sea of shit.” She slid her forearms off her knees putting her hands on the side of her calfs and began to squeeze them tight.

“Then all this shit happened, exactly like this. The zombies, then those weirdoes appeared. Started rounding people up, they took him, he tried to protect me, he died.” She squeezed her calves even harder, digging her fingers into her legs. “I swore, I fucking swore, to god or odin, or Krishna, that I would never, NEVER! Let anyone protect me ever again.” She bit her lip and kept her eyes locked forward. Her heart started to race her breathe became heavy and laboured. “I would use people, I would become a freak, I would kill, but I would never let anyone die to protect me.”

She turned to TJ who hadn’t moved an inch other than deep rhythmic intakes of breath.

“Didn’t hear a word I said huh?” She sighed “It’s probably for the best”.

~

Thanks for checking it out, tried to get a little heart more than meat in this one. Give a little glimpse into the character of Sunday. Anyway if you liked the excerpt don’t forget to check out the full chapter on inkitt and to read the corresponding chapters.

Chapter 14

Peace out!

Spyderco Delica review

This knife was a bit of a weird fascination for me since before it I wasn’t a huge fan of folding knives and I’d never even heard of Spyderco let lone would I ever be able to admire their unique beauty.
They’re odd looking knives but they’re so iconic and functional that you have to respect the craftmanship and utilitarian nature and the subtle curves of an effortlessly elegant knife such as a spyderco.
I became fixated on this knife in particular after I saw what was close enough to it in a punisher comic.

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I really loved the idea of such a small nimble deadly little knife like that taking on someone with a machete. That sneaky way you can open it without looking using the spyder hole. Finding the edge alignment just right, waiting for the moment they’re close enough for you to launch one quick strike before they can even raise their knife. The serrated blade cutting evenly and quickly.
The knife is tiny, its probably the smallest folder I own since I collect just for show, so I like bigger flashier folders not so much utilitarian edcs. But something about it’s vicious utility and the idea of such a small knife being so deadly like a spider bite really intrigued me and I had to have one similiar.

The delica is the closest I could find, the blade may be a little rounder, the knife from the comic is more like a smaller version of the spyderco police which has that little top unsharpened swedge. But I never really liked the police and I wanted a three inch hide away type knife and there was something that irked me about having the word POLICE on the side of my knife, and I wasn’t really feeling the stainless steel handle scales.So the delica fit perfectly.

JQqP4eN.pngThe delica 4 is just under 3 inches of serrated cutting mini-samurai sword haha. Made with beautiful vg-10 all the way from seki city japan. The only knife I think I have from seki city so far.

Black frn handles, a tight back lock, and 4 way pocket clip. Its a really snug grip in the hand, weighs almost nothing. I’ve had this knife in my pocket and completely forgot it was there. It chokes up really nice and favors, due to the size, a forward filipino knife grip. That’s like a forward sabre grip with the thumb on the back of the knife. It has some really nice jimping so it stays perfectly still for cutting.

The blade itself is very strong and ridiculously sharp, the serrations are probably the sharpest serrations I’ve ever encountered, kicks coldsteels ass cold haha. Once you have the edle alignment right this little thing cuts like no other knife I’ve ever owned, it’s scary smooth cuts.

Overall I just love how small and compact it is and how much deadly power you can get from such a delicate knife. If you need it for household shit as an everyday carry I’d recommend it, it carves through cardboard and plastic like it’s possessed, it cuts anything. And I wouldn’t be that hard pressed to use it for defence if I was inclined. Not home defence, I’d probably go for the more traditional baseball bat, my personal favourite the cold steel brooklyn shorty. But if you were in a country that allowed legal carry of lock knives under 3 inches, I’d say take this.

Not if you’re fighting the punisher though, fuck that shit haha.RBRLwo2.png

Review of the Benchmade Harley Davidson LFK

That’s ‘LARGE FOLDING KNIFE’. I know what you were you thinking, you were thinking it stood for ‘fucking’ well now it does, because I say so.

I thought I’d do something a little different, haven’t done a knife review in a while and this has been a nice little show piece for me for a long time. I’ve done these big shiny “zombie killer” knives now I want to bring it down to a nice ‘little’ and I use that word lightly, folding knife.
I know some people have their issues with benchmade and a lot of their knives I think are overpriced but their quality can’t be beaten in my opinion, but never before did one of their knives really jump out at me, until the Harley Davidson LFK.
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Look at this thing, it’s fucking huge!

I can barely fit it on the internet haha. It’s a big folding knife, you get a few of these kicking around and they’re usually ridiculously expensive and completely useless (Cold steel looking at you).
Because they have these big flashy blades but because it’s a folding knife it has to have this big clunky handle for the knife to fold into. Now you’re realising that, you’re looking at the LFK if you’re a knife guy thinking “Wtf? Where does the blade go?”.
I know, take a second look, the blade is longer than the handle, what sort of witchcraft is this you ask? Of course folding knives have to fold into the handle so the handle has to be longer than the blade to make sure the cutting edge is fully covered when it goes in your pocket. So that you don’t need to go home and wash the blood out of your underpants.
This knife is a little different, it actually has this little plastic fin that comes out of the handle when you fold the blade back to cover the tip and top portion of the knife that overshoots the handle.

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The fin in question.

Now you might be thinking, “That’s kind of dumb, what’s the point of that? Why not just make the handle longer”. Well if you’re familiar with knives and centrifugal force you’d understand that how a knife moves in the hand is relative to the length and shape of the handle. So a big long clunky handle limits your range of motion, slows down strikes and basically gives you less control over the blade tip. If you were using it in wood working or bushcraft it would be annoying, if you were using it in a last ditch effort to defend against a zombie you’re worm food buddy haha.
I can’t say I’d reccomend taking on the undead with a folding knife but you could do worse than this big fucker measuring something in the ball park of five inches (would have been good to get the specs up in hindsight haha) that’s huge for a folding knife. Any bigger than that and you’re entering ridiculous territory of; “Why not just get a fixed blade?”
Essentially this a folder that moves and feels in the hand, just like a fixed blade of the same size. The grip is this rubbery substance (could be rubber, worst knife reviews ever haha) and it just sticks in your hand like glue. The blade came sharp out the box, shaving sharp. It locks up nice with the standard liner lock, so fuck you lefties like me, gotta close it with two hands unless you flip it like I do it. The finish is beautiful, it comes in black but I went for the satin because it’s just a lovely looking knife.
It’s very well made, you can open so fast with that big blade, it swings out like an automatic, it’s just so well made, it opens like a dream and you just have this huge beast of a knife coming out to great you. I mean if crocodile dundee had been held up with this he may have had pause to think.
That’s a lot of blade to walk around with in your pocket, so the question is; “Do you really need all that blade in your pocket?” and the answer is no not really. If you’re using it as an everyday carry or just for folding knife stuff like light bushcraft, you’d be fine with a four inch or lower knife. You could be just as happy with a little spyderco knife like a delica, that would do everything this could do and maybe more due to it’s size.
If you really wanted or needed a knife this size you could just get a fixed blade and not have to worry about that plastic fin snapping which is a massive worry I have about this knife and why I would never use it outdoors unless I really had to.
Also you know on a practical level it’s just easier to clean a fixed blade knife if you were gonna use to hunt or skin animals or something as barbarous as that and not like me who just puts them on a nice shelf to collect dust and show to his mates haha.
For a folder it’s impressive I give it three zombie dicks out of five for it’s potential zombie murder and if I couldn’t carry a fixed blade for some reason and I wanted it for personal protection (if that was legal in the uk or it was the zombie apocalpyse) I would still probably use my spyderco military to be honest haha.
Don’t get me wrong, I love this knife, it’s beautiful and well made, but for me it’s more of a good show piece, a good talking piece. It’s impressive and it comes in this nice little pouch with a belt loop (which is great because the pocket clip isn’t reversible, another fuck you to lefties like me haha) so you can take the pocket clip off all together and just hold it like any other fixed blade.
Overall I love it, but it stays on the shelf.10100sbp.jpg

Green Sunday Chapter 2; This Charming man (Edited reupload)

Here it is finally, after much faffing about over the holidays I finally managed to sort this out and get back on track with the editing and continuous writing of this literary monstrosity. I’m already about 40k into it and I see no end in sight, it’s almost beaten my first secret novel which will never be revealed except for exclusive rights to the movie and merchandise haha. I can dream.

 

As always if you liked this chapter or you’re new to the story and want to go back to the start head on over to my inkitt page for the complete story in a neat order and in a format that I’m sure can be read on all manner of magical devices, wiggets and wablets and magic hats and scrolls I’m sure.

Green Sunday Chapter 2

An old TV, sitting on a greasy-looking shelf, played in the background in a local greasy spoon diner on the edge of town. The diner was alive with the sounds of knives and forks sword-fighting; people taking deluxe bites out of reasonably priced burgers, and washing them down with complementary milkshakes.

“The Pudgiwara Corporation today said they were very sorry for dumping the one thousand tonnes of toxic waste in the bay and they said they’d never do it again.” The news anchor furrowed his brow sincerely before moving on to the next segment. “In other local news, a young boy of fourteen was arrested after a prank backfired outside his suburban home. The boy, who is yet to be named for legal reasons, was tricked by his friends into believing that another biological outbreak, similar to that of the one in Arkham, Louisiana, was underway. Police state that the boys school friends wore make-up and ragged clothing and pretended to be the undead. The boy fearing for his life retrieved his 22. Calibre rifle he received for his third birthday and slaughtered them all in his back yard”

“Hahahahahahahahahaha!” Incongruous laughter broke out. It seemed that all the knife and fork sword fights ended abruptly. But the laughter went on regardless as the story played out.

“The fourteen year old boy then, fearing for the fate of his family, went into his suburban home and strangled his entire family to death with a draught excluder”

“Hahahahahahahahahahaahahahaha!” A dirty hand, topped with dirty, chipped nails, scooped up a clod of hamburger meat from a steel bowl as he laughed.

“What’s going on out here?” A fat sweaty man in an apron, and not a lot else, came out of the back. A confused look on his face, he stood next to a middle-aged redhead waitress with a face like a leather riding saddle.

“Some crazy guy. All he ordered was a bowl of raw hamburger meat. He’s just been sitting there eating it. Then he just started laughing,” the middle-aged woman said, her face wrinkling up in places never before thought possible.

The fat man’s sweat patches grew under his apron. He started to look like he belonged in a sauna or in a tropical plant house as he breathed heavily.

“The boy is currently under observation at Hellspass psychiatric hospital.” The man’s laughter began to run down like the motor of a car sliding into park. A greasy hand touched the arm of his salvation army coat and the slow come-down took a sudden bump.

“Hey, buddy, you’re freakin’ people out. Can ya keep it down? People are trying to eat,” the fat chef said, in an apologetic tone, as he furrowed his brow into painful ‘v’s, which seemed to stretch all over his slippery bald head.

“What’s that?” the man said without turning his head. A chunk of unchewed hamburger meat fell from his mouth onto the semi-clean counter. He turned his bloodshot eyes in his skull.

“I said-”

“I heard what you said.”

“Huh?”

“I just can’t tell what I’m looking at.” He picked his teeth with a dirty nail and sucked his gums, dislodging raw meat.

“Look, buddy, we aint looking for no trouble. I think you better just pick your sorry ass up and leave – right now!”

“Did you make this?” The strange, homeless guy squeezed the hamburger meat in his hands, letting it ooze through his bony fingers. He had shoulder-length mousey brown hair, with a long beard completing the homeless chic. His features were thin and gaunt, dark eyes hidden under heavy lids. He wore a long, olive drab army jacket that went all the way down to his ankles, hiding the fact that he was wearing plastic bags tied with string around his feet instead of shoes. To complete the ensemble: a threadbare shirt and pair of pants that looked like they’d gone missing from an old people’s home washing line. Printed across the front of the jacket was a name written in bold dark green lettering. ‘CARPENTER’.

“What’cha talking about, buddy? That’s raw hamburger meat. Aint nobody ‘made’ it. Drifters like you don’t belong here; it’s time for you to move on now!”

“You know, I used to be just like you”

“Get ou-!” A glob of hamburger meat cut off the chef mid-sentence. The slimy, gelatinous meat by-product got into his eyes and nose. It felt like a fist made of lumpy snot hitting his sinus wall. He felt disorientated, giving the dishevelled man ample time to kick a bar stool. The chef fell forward as the stool hit his shins, tripping him. Carpenter rose like a jack-in-the-box on angel dust from his stool to slam the chef’s dirty face into the counter.

He pressed the chef’s face into the off-colour lime green diner counter, spreading blood and raw meat and spit all over it. The chef strained as he began to get light-headed, his skull pressed against the hard surface.

“You know it’s rude to interrupt someone when they’re eating.” Carpenter squeezed the chef’s head with his forearm against the counter. The veins on the chef’s head stuck out like rail-road tracks, pumping hot kitchen grease. Carpenter took his other hand and ran his finger up from his face taking up some of the hamburger meat. Getting under his nails, he sucked his finger.

He took the pressure off and sat back on his stool like he got up to get the salt. The chef stuck to the counter with blood and sweat and hamburger meat. Peeling off, his unconscious body hit the linoleum floor of the diner like a sack of dried hams. He parted stools and chairs and brows as he fell. The diner fell silent. Food went unchewed in open mouths; coffee cups shook; babies continued crying; the dishevelled man went back to watching the news and laughing.

If you liked what you read of this excerpt, follow the link below to read the rest of the chapter on inkitt.

Cheers.

Green Sunday Chapter 2

Kabar, Big brother in black

Back after a hard christmas, hard on my guts and my wallet, but one that wont be soon forgotten. I really thought I could blog and write and do all that stuff and have a life during christmas, how foolish I was. But back here I am again, back in black with only my second knife review, the kabar big brother in black.

I got this knife after some ‘unpleasantness’ I had in regard to my local law enforcement combined with my neighbours inability to mind their own business and love of stretching the truth. They took everything that might harm a toddler from my house, everything remotely gun or knife shaped just so they could feel like they got a good haul. After that I was feeling a little deflated in regards to the state of freedom and privacy in britain, as without a constitution it seems like the police can do pretty much anything they want. And if a man can’t test huge knives in full tactical gear and skull mask in his own back garden what’s the point in having your own back garden?

Needless to say I felt a little ‘deflated’ in the trouser department, so I set out not to be defeated and got right back on knife centre and bought the biggest meanest knife I could find within my price range and a voila; I found the kabar big brother.

Eventually after much complaining about the orwellian tactics used by my local police to my mp I got all my knives and my computer back (big brother took it just to make sure I wasn’t a terrorist or a peadophile,thus I can assure you all I am not guilty of any terrorism or child buggery or anything to that effect, nice of them to let me know eh).

It took awhile but the kabar big brother (just now realising what a coincidence that name is in regard to the situation that lead to me buying, although not at the time) in my hand, stashed under my bed, made me feel a lot safer for the coming zombie apocalypse.

I dare say this knife alone could do a fair job of fending off the zombie hordes. The first kabar I ever bought, I liked the look of the classic usmc but had heard mixed reviews so I wanted something a little more impressive looking. The big brother is essentially a huge version of the classic usmc, with a whopping blade just over eight inches in length, it’s a hefty large knife/small machete.

With any kabar knife you get I believe over a hundred years or so of knife making expertise and it shows despite seeming a little common place today, a little more mainstream than a handmade knife.

The blade is as I said huge but it’s not thick and bulky, it’s actually rather light and delicate and it makes for excellent movement in the hand and a very sharp edge out of the box. The serrations on the back as I’ve heard with most kabars are useless, almost just for display or maybe notching or some other bushcrafty type thing, an alternative to toilet paper perhaps. Completing the blade is a very sturdy clip point making an almost false edge on the back swedge of the blade.

The handle is probably my favourite part, it’s rare to get such a good grip on such a large knife but due to the weight of the blade, the shape of the tang and the handle material being some kind of rubber it makes for an almost adhesive grip even without gloves. The round metal pommel also lends a little more balance as well as the ability to see the end of the tang.

The guard is a thin and pointless and I’ve heard they’re prone to come loose but that doesn’t really bother me for the price, it was about £80 with shipping and duty and all that. It’s no handmade ancient japanese swords with magical runes but it gets the job done and it looks really nice and comes complete with a lovely leather sheathe.

Overall I really like it, I think if holding this knife in your hand doesn’t make your balls grow, nothing will. It’s just a big knife that swings really nicely and cuts very well. It’s also one of the few knives I’ve seen tested on the youtube channel zombie go boom. They pitted it against ballistic zombie skulls and it did as well as any knife it’s size could, decapitation in two hits if I remember correctly.

So if you want a knife that could probably cut someone head off in two hits but also looks really nice, is really light and probably nimble enough to be used for any number of bushcraft tasks I’d pick myself up one of these.

First proper blog back, mini-rant in there, that’ll do.

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First knife review; Tora tora tora!

I was a little hesitant to write a knife review, mostly because what the fuck has it got to do with writing? Nothing really, I just like it and I know what you’re thinking; ‘Oh so you’re a school shooter?’ I can’t tell you why I like knives any more than someone can tell you why they like collecting stamps.

It probably ties in with my obsession with the zombie apocalypse, of which I know isn’t coming, but at one point I sort of did. I haven’t always been sane and don’t really claim to be now, or even that there is such a thing to cling to. A little Lovecraftian? Yeah maybe.

Nevertheless I still fantasise about zombies ravaging the world for some reason. I wrestled with this a long time, I know it’s a little sad and childish but I did really fear that it would happen and I started collecting knives preparation. I literally almost breathed a sigh of relief when I bought my first cold steel gi tanto, so sad ha-ha.

But I remember when I had a dream about zombies and I started to realise that what I really needed was a crossbow or a gun or something but then I realised that that would take all the fun out of it and also be more than I was willing to pay. I realised that I realised it was just a fantasy and I didn’t really think it would happen because otherwise I would get a crossbow or learn to use a bow or something but I didn’t. I just wanted to collect cool knives and display them. It was a way of using cognitive dissonance to justify my collecting of something I liked, like I wasn’t just collecting shiny things like a magpie, I was assembling an arsenal to survive.

I used to watch these shows like doomsday preppers and I realised I wasn’t like these people, I didn’t really think it was going to happen, my brain wasn’t as broken, I didn’t feel the need to horde food or learn to eat bark or something, it was just a hobby not a way of life or an actual reality.

But it still intrigued me and wanting to understand and satirise that mentality is what drove me to start writing Green Sunday, not another zombie apocalypse story but one that tried to get into the heads of the people that actually want this. I didn’t want to write another zombie story as just a framing device for some pointless drama, I wanted to get into and satirise the minds of people not too dissimilar from myself and try to understand the fascination with zombies and more broadly the end of the world.

Ok rambled enough, bullshit ceased, now for the review for the;

Tora WW2 1/2nd Battalion Kukri

This isn’t my first Khukri/kukri/Khukuri? Fuck it, big shiny leaf shaped knife! I was kind of ambivalent towards them since being a zombie film lover I’d see their love affair with the knife and being a little contrarian hipster fuck I naturally rejected them and samurai swords and anything else lots of people liked and poopooed them. But then someone bought a samurai sword and I fell in love with Khukris after watching an episode of ultimate warrior and I’d been going through this phase and still am of loving anything WW2 related that can be used to hurt people. Pretty much anything that resembles something that killed Nazis interests me. I would collect some Nazi stuff too just for balance but it’s either a tacky replica or a ridiculous expensive antique, there doesn’t seem to be a happy medium of knife makers making quality replicas, could be the stigma I guess, guilt by association or some such silliness.

So I shopped around and I skimmed through condors and your cold steels and all manner of KLO’s (Kukri like objects), my brother has the cold steel Kukri machete and it’s functional but nothing special. I hovered over the condor and kabar but I kind of wanted something really authentic so… I bought a Khukri house. Now I know if you’re a seasoned knife collector or a Khukri lover that was probably a punch line. But I liked some of their designs and they had great prices for knives that were actually handmade in Nepal, not china or Taiwan or America, actually from their country of origin.

When I got hold of it, I quite liked it, it was a little heavy for a ten inch knife but I liked it, seemed nice and tough, I thought, ‘shit if it’s blunt I could just throw it at them’. So I was happy with that. But after a while I stumbled on Tora and realised what a twat I was.
And now holding a tora in my hand I understand the extent of my twattishness. When I first picked it up, it felt like I was picking up a piece of a downed alien space craft, made from some eldritch unknown metal. It was so unbelievably light for a twelve inch ww2 replica kukri. I was amazed by how light and agile it was.
It made me realise how pointless the Khukri house knife was in terms of its use, it’s over built with the full integral tang and the thickness of the blade and it makes it cumbersome to a point where it becomes almost unusable when you go above ten inches. Those two features are purely to sell it to American tourists who want some big knife and see the tang when really having the tang visible all the way through the handle doesn’t denote the quality of the knifes construction. So I’m not trying to shit on Khukri house and as a collector they make handsome knives and I will definitely buy from them again because they go beyond the standard replicas and make their own styles which I love.
But if you want real quality replicas, a real Khukri made to the specification of world war designs of authentic Khukris I’d go with Tora.

The blade came fairly sharp but to be frank, Khukris are like axes in how they chop, it’s all leveraging of the blade angle, it doesn’t need to be hair shaving sharp to cut, but I appreciate a little bit of an edge. The mirror polish is lovely, the sheathe is very nice quality, well stitched, I remember with the Khukri house one I could see where it was glued but it’s still functional.

The blade feels great in the hand; it has a partial tang, so the handle isn’t bulky like the Khukri house Kukri. I think the wood handle is a slippery and it takes a little practice to get the edge alignment right for cuts. But as you can see I’m a weirdo who likes ruining his expensive knives by wrapping the handles in masking tape, I’m just too lazy to use paracord and I think tape works better and I think it looks cool but I’m a retard so don’t listen to me ha-ha.
Overall the knife is great quality, I noticed a bit of a bend at the hilt but it’s to be expected from a handmade knife, it doesn’t really affect the knife; it just irked the perfectionist that lies within.

I think what amazed me the most about the Tora is something that just caught me off guard and that was the point; it actually has a functional point. Which is something I had come to expect was not something you could get with a Kukri, which is why most of them don’t come with hilts or any form of guards because they’re not knives that are meant for thrusting (Which is sort of interesting since most people seem to think they originate from the Greek kopis which has a really extensive guard for stabbing… yeah it’s the 300 sword… philistines ¬_¬).

I was pleasantly surprised that it was actually quite pointy, I’m sure it’ll come quite a shock to those hapless pumpkins.

The only negative points I could say about it is the waiting list, you have to wait quite a while to get hold of one because they make them in batches and also they use parcel force, I think it was, and they’re about as useful as an arsehole on your knee. I’d have preferred something like ups or FedEx but as it stands I’m very happy with it and I would recommend it to anyone.

I haven’t actually taken it out and whacked a tree with it and I don’t plan to (well I hacked the shit out of the box, but that’s because my daddy didn’t hug me enough as a child), but it makes a beautiful addition to my collection and I hope to get many more, salary willing.IMG_20150922_112518IMG_20150922_112521IMG_20150922_112525IMG_20150922_112537IMG_20150922_112603

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