Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
FAIS (floofinition) – Internet slang which is shorthand for ‘Floof-Activity Interrupted Sleep’, an expression used to convey why people are tired or did not receive a good night of rest.
In use: ‘Despite a hefty cup of caffeinated latte, Barb kept yawning, finally apologizing, explaining, “FAIS. My puppy and cat decided to play tag at three AM, and then a bear started going through people’s trashcans, which made every dog in a square mile join the barking.”‘
Summer is continuing its lo-key approach to June, or is it the other way around? It’s 68 F now in Ashlandia, where the animals are wild and the drivers are crazy, to which the cats say nothing because they’re busy strolling, washing, napping, just enjoying what’s come. Good philosophy.
Today is Sunday, June 25, 2023. We’re expecting a lofty temp of 84 F to descend on Ashlandia before the sun calls it a day. Probably have thunderstorms. Had some more yesterday, followed by rain last night. This was after Alexa informed there would be no rain. Yesterday she warned me that it would probably rain between 6 and 7 PM today. Now she’s denying she ever said. Calls to mind some politicians. Show them a video of them saying what you claim and they sit there shaking their head, denying they said it, and try to shift the subject. Greasy monkeys.
I checked ‘On this day in history’ on Bing to see what happened. The second entry was about June 24, 2023. The next search result brought up a result May 12, ‘the aftermath’. But fourth, from Encyclopedia Britannica, was Michael Jackson’s death, and Farah Fawcett’s passing. He was 50 and she was 62. The Korean Way also started on this day in 1950, just five years after World War II ended. Sort of reminds me of Russia attacking Ukraine.
I have “Call Me The Breeze” by JJ Cale in the morning mental music stream. Believe it or not, but that came about after I opened the back door and felt the morning the breeze. “What a nice breeze,” I told the cats. “You guys feel it?” Neither cat replied, but The Neurons had awakened from their walking nap and said, “Playing ‘Call Me the Breeze’ by JJ Cale.” The song is relaxed, fine fare for a fair morning. Others have covered it and had hits with it, but I enjoy Cale’s original from 1972.
Stay pos, and be sure you test the water before you just go leaping in there. Slow down and smell the coffee. Think I might put that on a bumper sticker.
Here’s the music. Cheers
When he settles for a nap
The floof comes along
Sniffing to confirm his identity
Verifying he’s still alive.
The floof settles in
And then settles again
And again
Draping a paw over his chest
Pushing a furry head against his cheek
Taking too much room
Rendering him captured and immobile
As he relaxes and sleeps.
Awakening stiff but refreshed
He reminds himself again
Sleeping with a floof is the best.
He had a rogue eyebrow hair. It curled up and away, refusing efforts to make it fit with the rest of his eyebrow. With a suppressed small sigh, he cut it back. He’d learned years ago that once an eyebrow went rogue, it needed to be trimmed. Don’t pull it, though, no. All kinds of things could happen if you pull it, including a gray – or worse, a white – replacement hair growing in, or nothing replacing it at all, leaving you with smaller and small eyebrows.
Simplefloof (floofinition) – 1. An animal with few needs or worries.
In use: “Rocky was a simplefloof, happy with a toy, some kibble, and the company of humans or other animals.”
2. An animal whose foolish behavior or silly personality is often the subject of repeated stories for others’ amusement.
In use: “A sweet simplefloof, Peaky loved playing with a rubber worm but despised how it felt and tasted. She’d bat the toy across the room, then wash her paw before galloping over to the toy again. Whenever she picked it up in her mouth, she immediately dropped it, shaking her head. Yet, she’d pull the toy out of her little toy chest whenever it was put away.”
The water wheel turns and drops us into Saturday, June 25, 2023. June, precious boys and girls, is reaching the end of its walk. 2023 is over halfway through its life cycle.
Summer has arrived in Ashlandia, where the rock is old and the musicians are young. 59 F now, 84 F is within our reach if we but try — as if we can make it happen. Maybe we could but it’d need a collective will, and this isn’t the era of collective will. Small collective wills emerge to turn events but overall, we disagree on how and where we should direct our collective will.
Thunderstorms yesterday. My wife reported that she was outside reading in the back when they arrived. Tucker was to one side, in the yard, napping. Rain splattered down. She hurried in. Tucker didn’t even stir. Papi was already in the house, asking, “Did you hear those boomers? Wake me when it’s over.” He then stretched out in the dining room, where he was when I arrived. Wasn’t asleep, though. Nah, not when boomers are thudding and rumbling.
Sunrise today is about 5:33 AM in Ashlandia, and we’ll see the sun’s tail end at 8:52 PM. Only a matter of seconds difference from the ‘longest day of the year’ experienced on solstice, which is about the sunlight hours and not the day’s length, right? Can we all agree that the day remains roughly 24 hours? Today is 23 hours, 59 minutes, 59.9993680 seconds, if you’re wondering. h/t to timeanddate.com
I watched the first episode of “My Life As A Rolling Stone” last night. That one focused on Mick Jagger, one of the primary song writers, lead vocalist, and frontman of the band. Naturally The Neurons became very excited. “Oh, I know this song! And this one, too. And I remember this one.” Can’t say which is my favorite Rolling Stone ditty but “I Can’t Get No (Satisfaction)” is memorable for waking up my sleeping rock ‘n roll sensibilities waaayyy back in the mid 1960s, when I was getting more understanding ’bout who I was. So the song is logged into my morning mental music stream today where it hums ’round and ’round. The selected video epitomizes rock ‘n roll, too, with a large screaming crowd, Mick and the boys in strange attire, balloons dropping on everyone, and a fan rushing the stage only to get clocked by the guitarist, Keith. And the song played on.
Stay pos and keep being your fetching self. Coffee has been served for the faithful. Let’s get ready to ride. Here’s the music. Cheers
He wondered and worried, would hotel rooms begin emulating air travel pricing, monetizing everything? He wondered if there would be a day when he reserved a room but that doesn’t mean he has a room – just like buying an economy airline ticket or even rental cars (see Seinfeld for more). He can imagine going online to rent a room and being offered upgrades. Ten more dollars for both a bed and chair in the room on top of what you’re paying for a preferred floor and location, size, and view. Twenty-five more for pillows, sheets, and blankets. Go for the Deluxe Room Plus – it includes complimentary coffee and a television, just fifty dollars more.
As we slept, the overlords declared, “This will be Friday, June 23, 2023. Let us see how they take to the change.” So far as I can tell, the reality shuffle didn’t to anything to me, other than that flash in the night when the date and time was established. When you think about it, moving billions of people to another reality is impressive, especially as it takes so little energy and effort. They siphon off less than a quarter teaspoon of the needed energy off of every individual being shifted. Leaves a few people feeling groggy, sure. That’s why the overlords introduced us to coffee.
It’s a warmish June morning, 53 F right now. Heading up the scale to 80 F today. Thunderstorms were being mentioned yesterday when the weather they talked about the forecast. That word left their vocabulary now. Probably because they weren’t expecting the reality shift. Few usually are.
I was chatting with friends the other night. One is an unbridled cat fellow. The other is the father of a daughter who fosters. That’s what started the entire chat; she’d sent pix to him of her new foster. She’d already had a little singleton she was bottling feeding and bringing along. This week, another singleton was introduced so the poor little fellow has a play and cuddle buddy.
Remembering this convo this morning prompted The Neurons to inject David Bowie’s “Cat People (Putting Out Fires)” from 1982. A little rock, techno, and glam folded together, it was written for the movie, Cat People. Wouldn’t say the song is a ‘usual’ Bowie recipe; he frequently reinvented himself. No telling what he would come up with the next time a song or album was released.
Fire up your corporeal being. Stay pos. Drink some coffee, tea, etc., right? Something to light the body and spirit’s burners. Here’s the music. Liftoff.
Michael Seidel, writer 