Paul Revere and the Floofs

Paul Revere and the Floofs (floofinition) – Floof rock (flock) band originating in Idaho, who achieved considerable floofstream success in the 1960s and early 1970s.

In use: “One of Paul Revere and the Floofs was the song “Floof Like Me” in 1966.”

An Erotic Dream

It began with a friend and a table set for a formal dinner. 

The dream friend was no one I recognize from life. Although all friends in the dream, none are real existence folk, unless we’re getting into alt dimensions and existences. I may know them there. Yeah, maybe the dream was reality bleedover. What a life I must live over there.

I was happy, going to this engagement. A few minutes early, I arrived first. The table was sage green. Set up outside, in a driveway, the fine china, crystals, and linen looked beautiful on this table. Side tables offered food and drink.  The host, a young, well-groomed blonde man, was pleased to see me and took me around, explaining the courses. Then, showing off the wines, he said, “I have a wonderful white wine. Here, taste.” He poured some into crystal stemware.

With him watching and smiling, I sipped. “This is amazing.”

“Isn’t it? For dessert, there’s cherry surprise.” He offered me a spoonful of it.

I was impressed. “Fantastic.”

Others arrived. An announcement was made: “We need to change locations.” The table, with all the food and wine disappeared. Others arrived asked, “Where is everything?’

Knowing exactly where to go, “It’s over here. Come on, follow me.”

I led them around the corner to where the table was. A brunette white woman in a navy skirt and white blouse said, “This looks wonderful. Is there any wine?”

I replied, “Yes, he has a wonderful white.” I poured her a glass.

She sipped as I watched. “Oh, that’s delicious,” she said. “What’s for dessert?”

“Cherry surprise,” I answered, turning away. “I’ll get you some.”

“Okay, I’ll watch your rear.” She squeezed my butt.

Startled, I turned and faced her. She began kissing and feeling me. Then she began undressing me. I was reciprocating. Then —

Well, I’m stopping there.

I’m not that kind of writer.

Sunday’s Theme Music

Cleaned up, shaved, cats fed, I sought the next things: what’d I need now? Coffee, water, a trip to the beach, my arm mended, the rona virus ended, a cold bevvie with my friends, a publishing contract…

“Dial it back, laddie,” I decreed. “Talkin’ ’bout here and now.” My mind reiterated my needs, building on them…

Such contemplation about what I need often collapses into what I want. Got air. I needed food and water. We can expand it into the hierarchy of needs., of course, but I’m addressing basics.

Yeah, it was too much for too early. Retreating from myself, I made coffee and breakfast, and invited the Stones in to perform “You Can’t Always Get What You Want“.

Blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: