Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
When I enjoy a book I’m reading, I like sharing passages with others. Foremost among those others is my spouse.
Unfortunately, I’m reading Dungeon Crawling Carl. I’m greatly enjoy it and I want to talk about it with my wife. But she wants to read it, so I can’t share these passages because I don’t want to spoil it for her.
It’s one of those frustrating aspects about reading.
I need to add napcurl to the flooftionary.
Filopolus (floofinition) – An animal who loves people. Origins: early 1900s, USA
In Use: “Eva was a popular filopolus, visiting with every and any person she encountered, but she was a misfloofynist when it came to animals.”
Always amazes me how I arrive home and suddenly need to urgently pee. It’s not like I was driving home and had the urge and ignored it. No, it strikes after I get into the house.
It’s not just me, either. My wife usually reacts before I do, walking into the house, greeting the cats, and then announcing, “Oh, gotta pee.”
I always wonder if it’s another case of event boundaries. Like, oh, you’re home, so you pee. Or is it conditioning built up over the years: you come home, you pee.
Don’t know. Maybe there’s something in the house air that triggers it.
Or are we the only ones like this?
Mood: coffeefied
Good day, all you misfits, miscreants, and citizens. Today is the day before Wednesday and the day after Monday, April 16, 2024. Summer is right around the corner, and then a few blocks away.
Sunny here in Ashlandia, but that was needed. Woke up to 35 F. Now it’s 51 F. Clouds pepper the eastern blue sky and smother the western sky. Gonna go below freezing tonight but we’ll lift up to 64 F before the sun leaves today’s scene.
Must mention, though, the air here smells and feels really fresh, like its never been breathed before. It’s mighty fine air.
Mom is doing well, living large at the rehab center. Tucker is recovering fabulously. I caught him setting up an ambush for Papi in the living room. Papi rounded the corner, saw Tucker and sat down to stare at him. Tucker busied himself observing the sunshine on the carpet. Both floofs’ tails flicked in that eternal signal that they’re waiting, watching, thinking.
The Neurons popped up with “All You Zombies” by the Hooters in the morning mental music stream (Trademark flashing). I’m afraid the 1982 song’s presence in the stream is politically related. I’d just finished a NYTimes column about the state of Trump’s MAGAers before his criminal trial.
This, by the way, is the criminal trial about Trump paying hush money to keep the story about his affair with Stormy Daniels. Just didn’t want to ensure you didn’t mistake it for another trial.
The trial started Monday, that is to say, yesterday. The story was written a few days ago. Trump’s supporters were happy and confident as ever that the trial didn’t matter. Dressed in red, white, and blue outfits, including onesies, or in camouflage, it was a rave event, even though much of what Trump said in his speech has been disproven as lies, false information, misinformation, or urban myths.
They didn’t care! No sirree. They are mated for life with him.
So the song, “All You Zombies”, would seem to fit because zombies are the unthinking blissed out undead in our society.
Stay pos, be brilliant, remain strong, and Vote Blue. Coffee has gone over the lips and past the gums. Here’s the music. Feel free to sing along. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 