Ambfloof (floofinition) 1. An animal who enjoys making surprise attacks on others.

In use: “Kittens are particularly pleased with being an ambfloof, pouncing on others without warning, and some never outgrow the habit.”

2. Animal tactic of surprising another by springing out on them from a concealed position, without warning.”

In use: “Although nine years old, Tigger remained fond of the ambfloof, so a warning sign was put in the foyer, warning all who enter the house.”


Paintfloof (floofinition) – 1. A helpful animal who wants to be involved with every painting project.

In use: “As soon as he got out the painting supplies, Tucker, who’d been deep asleep in the other room (he’d stolen in and checked), became a paintfloof, hurrying in and sitting down in the middle of everything.”

2. Animal who often seems to be posing for a portrait.

In use: “Coolly majestic and remote, with a deep, long-distance stare, Quinn always seemed to be posing for a painting, but the little paintfloof rushed off whenever a device was pointed his way.”

3. Animal who appears to be painted or colored with paint.

In use: “The classic paintfloof has to be Pepé Le Pew’s romantic lead, the poor little black cat who always ended up with a white stripe down her back, causing him to believe that she was also a skunk, like him, and causing him to fall deeply in love.”

Saturday’s Theme Music

Something disturbed my memories’ deepest levels. Don’t know what, but into this morning’s musical stream comes an oldie. We’re talking early sixties, when I was four or five.

Of course, I’d heard this song throughout the sixties. Played in movies, television, and on vinyl via Mom’s Magnavox high-fidelity stereo, I’ve heard this song sung by Judy Garland, Nat King Cole, Dean Martin, Louie Armstrong, and more.

The version I knew best, though, was Frank Sinatra. I heard him sing it hundreds of times in my childhood. Mom sang along as she washed dishes in the sing and cooked dinner. Later in life, I surprised people with my various imitations of people singing this song, including and especially Frank (although I was also very partial to the Jimmy Durante version, too — he had such a unique voice and style).

Enough, right? Here’s Frank Sinatra with “You’re Nobody til Somebody Loves You” from 1962.

Anyone else know it?

Two Cities Underwater Dream

Two cities had been built underwater. No, not in a dome. They were undersea but in the open.

No one yet lived in them. Shiny and new, rich with skyscrapers, monorails, and modern architecture, multiple parks and roller-coasters were also visible. Finished as mirror images, only one would exist when it was all completed. The final stage of completion was set to begin.

I was excited. I wanted to live in those cities. I marveled at the water. Amazingly pristine, I could see forever. To live in one of those cities, whichever one was chosen, seemed special. Come on, I urged, finish the city. Open it.

Enrico Colantoni, an actor, was sent out to finish the process. He was to match pieces, like a giant jigsaw, to one of the cities. That would bring it to life and banish the other one. Then people would be allowed to enter it. Fingers crossed that I could enter.

As Colantoni picked up the first huge piece and studied it (a red roller-coaster on tracks at an amusement part), talking to himself, everyone (including me) was pounding on glass windows and yelling advice at him, telling him where to put the piece, something that we were able to clearly see out there, from a distance.

A heavy, repetitive thud interrupted the proceedings. As all paused to wonder what that was, a muffled voice said, “What?”

Much more sharply, a second voice said, “It’s over. He’s called it off.”

“What? muffled voice answered.

“He changed his mind. Stop.”

Disappointment swept me. Who changed their mind? What was going on?

The dream ended.

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