Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Floofligious (floofinition) – Manifesting faithful devotion to animals or an animal.
In use: “In times of strife, many people shrink from the world’s bad news and become floofligious, attending their fur friend’s desires and needs, and often placing those needs and desires above their own, because without those beloved companions, the world would be much darker.”
Collective Floof (floofinition) – A floof rock (flock) grunge band originally from Floofbridge, Georgia. Formed in 1992, they released their first album in 1995. Certified triple-platinum, it remains their best-selling album.
In use: “Collective Floof has had several mainstream number one hits in the UFA, including “Floof Declaration” in 1997, which was their fifth number one song.”
Cat number two was the first encountered. He began the dance.
Number two is number one in his eyes. We don’t know what he calls himself. We call him Boo. Sometimes he answers to that.
Seeing me slack-jawed with fading dreams moving zombie-esque from bedroom through hall, Boo said, “Mrr.” Mrr, I think, means, “About time,” “Feed me,” “Good morning,” or “Hello.”
He was in a sitting position. Standing, he began singing, “You can go this way, you can go that way.” Thinking he knew which way, he shifted his body that direction to inhibit my passage and bend my will to his.
Feigning left, I slipped right. One cat passed. Not liking it, Boo sang out.
Cat number two, referred to as Tucker (but as adept at ignoring his name as Boo) was sitting just beyond Boo. Responding to Boo’s talking, Tucker said, “I got him.” Standing, he said, “You can go this way, you can go that way,” and moved to cut me off.
A deftly executed double feint was executed by me, an impressive move by a sleep-lusting, coffee-hungering moving catatonic human, though not easily. Tucker is a wily veteran and countered each movement, singing on as he did, “You can go this way, you can go that way, you can go this way, you can go that way.”
This is why Fatboy Slim’s 2001 song, “Weapon of Choice”, is today’s theme music. Naturally, I’ve spooled up the Christopher Walken dance version. It’s a little fun, a repeat, but worthwhile.
Here’s the music. Wear your masks, please.
Floofphile (floofinition) – Person who is enthusiastic about animals.
In use: “The Internet may not have given birth to floofphiles, but videos of kittens, puppies, baby hippos, birds, lambs, goats, and so on, certainly encouraged a growth
Floofy Danger (floofinition) – Seattle-based floof rock band. Formed as a duo in 1992, they became a quartet in 1994 and released their first album. The group disbanded in 2009.
In use: “Floofy Danger’s best known song for most is “Litter Box Sitta”, which charted well for the band in 1997.”
Floofcall (floofinition) – 1. The sound people make to call animals or their pets.
In use: “Studies show that clicking their tongue or making a kissing noise are the most common floofcalls used in America.”
2. A video conference call dominated by animals.
In use: “I apologized for my cat taking over my screen during a Zoom, but then sixty percent of the people said their cats were also with them. In a moment, all the screens were cats, making it a perfect floofcall.”
3. A telephone call to check on an animal’s health.
In use: “After she put Chef Eddie in for surgery, she waited all day for the floofcall that came, telling her that her dog was okay.”
4. The sound an animal makes to attract attention from people or other animals.
In use: “Most people know the floofcalls that their animals make and what they mean: a special bark, meow, whine, or chirp informing their people, feed me, pet me, play with me, or take me for a walk.”
Three out of five dreams. It sounds like one of those old commercials about dentists and gum.
Of my five remembered dreams last night, two were intriguing but don’t pester my brain as the others do. The last one was downright depressing.
In the first of the three, I’d come to have a new Aston Martin roadster. Gorgeous car, ticketing out to a quarter million dollars. Deciding to keep it, I forged documents to show myself as the owner. Then I drove it around, showing it off.
People were admiring. I basked in it. Young friends asked for rides. I obliged, turning off traction control and shredding expensive tires with smoky burnouts.
Then…I started wondering, what’s going to happen? How will this end? They company will realize that the documents are forgeries. I thought, I need to get it back to them, and began crazy plotting to do that.
I assign this dream to the imposter syndrome surfacing yet again.
The second dream, brief, was amusing and sardonic.
I was in a large warehouse sort of building. Pale green, it was well-lit. Several others were with me. As we walked around and looked around — the dream provided no excuse for this setting — someone said, “What do all those buttons and switches do?”
And I, still looking up at the ceiling, answered, “Try them and see. That’s what I always do.”
Yeah, see? I always press my own buttons.
In the third dream to be discussed, I was leaving one overseas location to go home. I don’t think I was in the military…at first.
Ah, yes: confused identity. Still fall back on identifying myself in the military as who I am.
There was a gathering first…for someone else, another, who was younger. I supported that, giving gifts. I had a collection of things I wanted to keep together. Some many things were happening in parallel, all became a hasty rush. Going to leave — because it was time — someone gave me a pile of shredded docs and torn papers.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“That stuff you wanted to keep because it was important.”
I was incredulous, of course. “It’s all destroyed.”
“But it’s all there.”
They thought was a joke.
I tried shaking it off. Champagne was there.
“Let’s have champagne to celebrate my friend.” I picked up the bottle and unwrapped the cork, then popped it off. It discharged with tired energy, barely emitting a pop and shooting off about six feet. So dismaying.
Champagne foamed out. I stoppered it with my thumb. “We need glasses.” All started searching for something to pour the champagne in. No drinking glasses could be found. We improvised with paper cups that we made.
Then I was off to leave. You ever see the show, “Burn Notice”? Bruce Campbell plays Sam Axe in it; he sometimes employs a fake identity, Chuck Finley.
Well, here was Bruce as Sam, saying he was Chuck, accompanying me to the checkpoint.
I’m in an Air Force uniform now, last in light. An old guy is checking me through. You put your name onto a clipboard and sign it, then produce your document. He was looking for a form 126. I didn’t have my form 126. I searched and searched. I had it earlier; now it was gone.
“Then you can’t go in,” he said.
Sam Axe to the inspector, “Come on, buddy, can’t you cut him a break?”
The inspector just looked at him.
Sam tried again. “You know who he is?” He indicates me. “You don’t want to piss him off.”
I pulled out my wallet, the one purchased in the Philippines long ago. I still have it, it’s lovely, but I don’t use it. In the dream, it started falling apart in my hands. “My wallet,” I said. “I bought this in the Philippines when I was young.”
The inspector graced me with a sad headshake and walked away. Sam said, “Well, I tried.” He handed me clothes and walked off.
I was in my uniform. I would change now. I removed my Air Force trousers and put on the new trousers. They were about two feet too long and way too large at the waist. They also emitted a weird black dust.
Sighing, I removed them, intending to put my uniform back on. A tour group of women arrived, talking about books, as I was changing. “One woman said, “Sir, you need to leave. You’re in our way.”
Ouch. Dream end.
I half-awoke with dreams drifting through my head. Grey morning light dully lit the room. A cat could be heard puking in the other room.
Ouch.
Floofhole Surfers (floofinition) – American floof rock (flock) band formed in Floof Antonio, Flooxas, in 1981. Incorporating hardcore punk and psychedelic elements, they failed to achieve major success until the mid nineties. Their best known song is “Floofper”, which charted well in 1996.
It’s another feline inspiration today. Laying in bed, a cat had wedged himself between my arm and my ribs and was purring like mad. As I gradually awakened and stroked him into a higher purring gear, I chuckled to myself and muttered soto voce, “A cat is what I got.”
That line quickly morphed along the 1996 Sublime tune, “What I Got”. So here it is.
Floofump (floofinition) – 1. A person who appears or is slovenly because they’ve been attending animals or indulging in an animal’s behavior to the detriment of their own appearance.
In use: “Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she realized she’d become a floofump, neglecting to dress (and clean the house — or brush her teeth and hair) because her newest cat was asleep on her lap.”
2. A noise someone emits when an animal unexpectedly jumps on them.
In use: “He was in the recliner, watching a ballgame, about to open a beer, when Harvey jumped up onto his belly, causing him to grunt, “Floofump,” in response.”
3. Slang or casual reference to an animal umpire.
In use: “The dogs and cats gave her no problems; it was the dog and the bird who forced her into the hated role of floofump, ruling their behavior out of bounds and sending one or the other into the penalty box.”
Michael Seidel, writer 