Mr. Floof(floofinition) – Originally from Arizona, Mr. Floof was a Floof Angeles-based American floof rock (flock) band formed in 1982. Although credited with several hit songs, success was fleeting, and they disbanded in 1990.
In use: “One of Mr. Floof’s most successful songs was “Broken Floofs”, based on the Kahlil Floofbran book by the same name.”
So the classic editor is moved, not gone, the WP blog tells me. What a compromise mess. They sent me an email telling me it was done after the fact. Fairly, they may have sent an earlier heads up that I missed. Once again, I’m not a WP happy camper.
Though it’s witless Wednesday, I’m not going to address POTUS 45 and the GOP, save this item. They’re just too SMFH witless.
For some reason, my wife drifted into the living room and turned on the telly. This was about five PM. We usually turn on the local news at six PM for weather and wildfire updates. COVID-19 updates have been added to the menu although the net updates are way superior to the TV updates. My spouse was laughing through an old show, “Sliders”. I entered to check what was going on. (Television watching and laughing in the afternoon? This is highly suspicious.) Commercials began. She said, “This is the lawsuit channel.” We then saw four ads for suing, for Catholic Church abuse, the Boy Scouts of America, mesothelioma, and asbestos damage. What a world what a world.
I desperately ‘need’ a new office chair. Got rid of the old thing in Feb, then, COVID. Been doing time with dining and folding chair. This spoiled writer’s butt has mentioned its dissatisfaction several times. In June, I began shopping them online, then…broken arm in July. As I’d be the one carrying, lifting, and putting the chair together, I felt holding off was prudent. Been this long, right? Probably order one after I shift casts. I’ll likely buy through Costco. A, cashback. B, a forgiving return policy and easy process.
Got my coffee, you know? Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.
The night was lively with energetic, positive dreams. When dreams like these take place, I hope and wish that they’re prophetic. Although I’m an optimist, I believe they’re overflow from my attitude, not the future.
My attitude does fluctuate. I can swing from hopeful to despairing faster than a hummingbird’s heartbeat.
At least one dream featured background music as U2’s “Red Hill Mining Town” was played. A few stanzas were prominent:
We’re wounded by fear Injured in doubt. I can lose myself You I can’t live without. Yeah, you keep me holdin’ on In Red Hill Town. See the lights go down onÖ Hangin’ on You’re all that’s left to hold on to. I’m still waiting I’m hangin’ on You’re all that’s left to hold on to On to.
BTW, did anyone else’s WP give you a change — an improvement, they’ll probably tell you — changing your block editor? Gotta fix it again, not difficult, but annoying. Don’t need another cause for teeth gnashing, thanks.
Here’s the music, from 1991. Not fond of this video. Hadn’t seen it before today, but it leaves me cringing with its sense of studied drama.