Podiafloof (floofinition) – Animal who enjoys feet.
In use: “Many kittens and puppies begin as podiafloofs, chasing, attacking, and biting feet (and toes!), but Gracie (who refused the label of house panther, insisting instead that she be called a Nubian queen) remained a podiafloof all of her life (seventeen years), finding a foot and throwing all her weight down upon it, and then, going to sleep…” — from Confessions of a Nubian Queen by I.M. Afloof.
Dufloofcity(floofinition) – Animal behavior that seems to show they’re going to do one thing but then do another.
In use: “Many people were aware of their pet’s dufloofcity, warning before they left the house, “Stay off the sofa,” or “Don’t jump on the counter,” to which the animal replies with wide-eyed assurance that they will, and then wait to hear their people leave and go do exactly what they were told not to do.”
Efloofgelist(floofinition) – A person who seeks to convince others of animal rights and intelligence.
In use: “The Internet has amplified efloofgelists’ message by showing videos highlighting animals acting and thinking compassionately, like bears saving crows, a pit bull mothering kittens, a cat befriending a lynx in a zoo, and a cat embracing an orphaned squirrel as one of her own.”
Floofetry(floofinition) – Sonnets, odes, rhymes, and verses about animals.
In use: “One of the more famous examples of floofetry begins, ‘Oh, I wish that I will someday see, a poem as lovely as a floof, although we know most floofs are goofs, and those who live with them have the proof.'”
Floofcocious (floofinition) – 1. An animal who exhibits mature qualities at an unusually early age.
In use: “The floofcocious young puppy approached the elderly dog with surprising reserve and respect, carefully stepping around them, letting them sleep.”
2. A person who understands and empathizes with animals at a very young age.”
In use: “The child was floofcocious, bottle-feeding orphaned kittens and puppies animals by the time she was four years old, sitting and comforting old dogs and cats at animal shelters when she was five, reading them stories every day.”
I enjoy watching “Would I Lie to You?” Hosted by Rob Brydon, Lee Mack and David Mitchell lead two teams. Two guest celebrities appear on each team every show, people like Bob Mortimer (who shares hilarious tales), Jo Brandt, Richard Osmen, and Greg Davis. The team members then tell a story about something that happened to them. The other team then guesses whether it’s a lie or true. Points are awarded. Yes, it’s British. My favorite episode involved Germane Greer and cannibalism. I love how the panels and Rob really get into the premise.
I stream it on Britbox via Amazon. I’ve watched many episodes more than once, tests to see how well my memory works as I try to recall if they’re lying or telling the truth. I’m usually wrong. I don’t think that bodes well for me doing my taxes in the future.
Whenever I watch the show, I think, what tales could I share? I’ve come up with one. First, the opening statement. That’s what’s used to launch the premise and cross-examination.
I once passed out three times trying to give blood just so I could have a doughnut.
They would ask the usual questions. When did this happen? Where? How old were you?
I’d answer, “I was in my early twenties, working at a bank in Pittsburgh, PA. The American Red Cross was having a blood drive in the lobby. If you give blood, you’re given a free doughnut. I really wanted a doughnut, so I took my place in line. Then, well, as I approached, I fainted.”
For some reason, as I write this, I imagine it being spoken in David Mitchell’s voice.
You fainted, will be repeated. I’ll nod, affirming that’s what happened.
“They put me on one of the little beds they had set up and gave me some orange juice. I returned to my desk, but I really wanted a doughnut. I got back in line and fainted again.”
They would ask me, “Was this your first time giving blood? Have you ever fainted before? Do you have a history of fainting?”
It was my first time giving blood. I’d never fainted before.
The ARC again put me on one of their little beds with orange juice. After I felt better, I returned to my desk. But…
I really wanted a doughnut.
I returned to the line, worked my way forward, and fainted again.
“A third time,” people exclaim. “Boy, you really wanted that doughnut.”
“Well, it was free,” I reply, “and I like doughnuts.”
“What kind of doughnuts were they? Were they special doughnuts?”
“Were you hurt whenever you fainted?” They would ask. “When you say, fainted, do you mean that — what do you mean?” (Lee Mack is questioning me; I hear his voice.)
“I swooned,” I answer. “My vision grew dim, my legs grew weak and then buckled, I lost consciousness, and found myself being helped off the floor.”
“How long were you out?” Lee asks.
“Not long, a few seconds, maybe ten seconds, I guess.”
“Did you ever get a doughnut?”
Rob asks, “Well, Lee, it’s time to decide if he’s telling a lie or telling the truth.”
He’s lying, they agree. Nobody would get in line three times just for a doughnut. Or the ARC would give him a doughnut after the second time, to reward him for his efforts.
“It is a lie,” I tell them when the time comes. “The truth is, it wasn’t me; it was my sister.”