Nepflooftism (floofinition) – Favoritism given to one floof over others.
In use: “Although cats, dogs, and pig shared Shari’s domicile, her nepflooftism kept her Cockatoo a happy bird.”
Thursday’s Wandering Thought
His eyebrows had transmorgified once more. As a youth, he had pleasant eyebrows — two clean, mildly arched lines populated with fine, neat hairs. Later, his eyebrow hairs thickened and a unibrow developed. He didn’t much mind the unibrow because he was often favorably compared to another unibrower, actor Tom Selleck, a flattering comparison. His forties found his unibrow’s center fading. Meanwhile, thicker brows appeared. A wild bramble of hairs took over. Suddenly the comparisons shifted from Selleck to the Soviet leader, Brezhnev, or television commentator Andy Rooney.
Those brows faded and changed, too. Now his brows had taken on another actor’s look, developing a Sam Waterston flip, where the eyebrows darkened and thickened again, but pointed up.
Like his eyebrows had their own life and pursued their own style. He wondered what they were going to do next.
Thursday’s Theme Music
“Out in the fog, the fog dancers begin moving. They only appear when it’s foggy. The thicker the fog, the more fog dancers there will be. They want humans to come out, walking in the fog, so the fog dancers can grab them and make them one of their own. If you become a fog dancer, you’ll dance for the rest of your life and never see sunlight again.
“That’s why I don’t go out in the fog.”
I don’t remember this, as I apparently did it on a whim, but my sisters insist that I told them this story when I was about twelve. My three youngest sisters said the fog terrified them for years. They said that I also said that adults know about this and that’s why they don’t go out into the fog. It worked well because Mom would always say, “Oh, I don’t like the fog,” and shiver whenever she looked out and saw fog.
As I said, the sisters claim that I told them this, and I don’t doubt them. Sounds like me. I think of it today because pretty deep fog is out there. Some trees and bushes look like fog dancers.
Remember the movie, The Fog? The sisters said that as soon as they heard of that movie, they remembered my tale.
It’s December 22, 2022. Just three days before the C holiday. And then, boom, the after Christmas shopping rush begins. It’s nutty.
36 F out there today, with timid sunshine squirming through the fog. S’posed to rain today. That’s the weather rumor. 49 F is to be our high before the sun peters out of the valley at 4:42 later today, just seven hours and five minutes after the sun kicked over the eastern mountains.
Got “Rockafeller Skank” by Fatboy Slim from 1988 occupies the morning mental music stream. I know exactly when The Neurons turned it on this morning. I’d raised the blinds, looked out and saw the fog. The Neurons responded to this by opening, “Right about now, the funk soul brother, check it out now, the funk soul brother.” Fog and funk. Sure, makes sense. I think The Neurons are losing it on some days, but I enjoy the song. Not many lyrics and easy to learn. I had a friend a few years after this song was released who always insisted, “That’s not really music.”
Stay positive and test negative.
Michael Seidel, writer 