Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Flooface (floofinition) – The facial expression that people don while addressing animals.
In use: “Squatting down to the speak to the large dog, she raised a hand, finger extended for him to smell, put on an inviting flooface, and adopted a comforting tone of voice to earn his trust.”
Dieting? Gaining weight, losing weight? Beer, marijuana, coffee, wine? Brain? What’s this about?
Floofedge (floofinition) – Surface marred or disfigured by an animal’s repetitive use.
In use: “The bathroom door jamb had a blackened floofedge where the paint was wearing thin, where the cats liked to stand and rub their chins while talking to him when he was on the can.”
Time for a little Neil Young. Call out to him for being naturalized as a U.S. We used to live in the same neighborhood, broadly speaking, on the California coast. A friend was his primary supplier, so the story goes. A little club wasn’t far where he liked to play for small crowds with no announcement, so the story goes.
1989 saw him bring out “Rockin’ in the Free World”. The song provides so many mocking lines drawing attention to our cultural hypocrisy:
We got a thousand points of light
For the homeless man
We got a kinder, gentler,
Machine gun hand
We got department stores
and toilet paper
Got styrofoam boxes
for the ozone layer
Got a man of the people,
says keep hope alive
Got fuel to burn,
got roads to drive.
Yeah, that’s rocking in the free world. That Trump used the song during his POTUS campaign without irony nauseates, but then the Trumplicans bastardize the meaning and intention of everything that they touch, subverting without sparing, heavy of hand and cruel of ideas.
I’m part of the hypocrisy in my comfy white land, something the feeds my perpetual self-damnation. Too weak to walk away from the cushiness, I’ll just do some marchin’, protesting, donating, and votin’, hoping to change things, even though that’s not been working for lo’, these many years since Bush I.
Guess I’ll just keep rockin’. Pour a little CBD into my coffee, please. My joints are hurtin’. “I try to forget it, any way I can.”
Today, I applaud St. Seata.
Like St. Asphalta, St. Seata was originally a human who became a saint who attained a godlike presence by fulfilling others’ needs as expressed through prayer. St. Asphalta was all about cars, transportation, and traffic; you appeal to St. Seata for sitting issues. Sometimes, in mass transportation, such as trains and commercial airlines, St. Seata and St. Asphalta work together to address people’s prayers.
St. Seata’s origins stretch back into the caves of antiquity and are known through ancient cave paintings discovered in Europe. One of the first human cave dwellers, others often came to St. Seata’s cave and asked, “Hey, can you fit one more in there?” St. Seata always found a way to oblige.
As with many of the ancients, St. Seata fell out of favor for a period as organized religions and wealth dominated the seating scene. He eventually made a comeback via as major disasters like the great fires of London and Chicago, or wildfires, typhoons, hurricanes, and earthquakes that took down populated areas. As space and safety became scarce, people found themselves appealing to find a place to sit.
Entertainment has fortified St. Seata’s presence. People looking for tickets to events such as soccer and football games, the Olympics, music concerts like the Beatles, etc., draw him forward to help them with their pleas for seats, too. St. Seata tries to help them all.
My prayer to St. Seata was for a much less dire situation. Sunday morning, and I was late to the coffee shop. Spotting the full parking, I worried about getting a seat where I could sit with my coffee, plug in the ‘puter, and do my writing thang.
St. Seata obliged with my second favorite space. Thank you, St. Seata.
Floofboozle (floofinition) – The act of cheating one animal by another animal.
In use: “The treats were set on the ground in front of each canine. The three were arrayed with the smallest dog, a terrier, in the middle of the two big retrievers. When the signal was given, the terrier raced forward, grabbed all three treats in his mouth, and hurried off, floofboozling the others of their goodies.”
Related: Bamfloofzle
Coldpaw (floofinition) – Gesture with paw animals use to stop humans from doing something.
In use: “She was petting her cat’s back when he gave her a look and coldpawed her.”
In use: “Calling her friends and their friends, they quickly organized a sip celebrating wine, cheese, chocolate, and Friday.”
So, you know, grocery shopping, and hungry. Lunch had been a few hours before, and light and healthy, and maybe a little sparse. Browsing the aisles, doing our standard shopping circuit, sampling foods, eyeing others’ carts to see what they’re buying, and judging them and ourselves for what we’re buying and not buying.
I’m hungry but skinny me is in charge of shopping today, along with healthy wife, two idealized versions of ourselves who examine everything with eyes and mind toward weight and good health. It’s a good thing, innit?
Meanwhile, unhealthy me is noticing, look, they have cake! Look at that cake! Oh, and that cake. And suddenly it seemed like everybody in Costco had a cake in their cart. I escaped Costco without a cake, though. On to Trader Joe’s. Back to get some healthy non-fat yogurt! See, it’s right there, by the CAKE and DONUTS. And breads.
We ogle the cake and donuts and talk about Trader Joe’s need to sell single donuts back there, that you can buy and eat, right there. They’re not, so we pass, moving on to the breads, which we fondle for freshness, sniffing them through the package while talking about good how they are.
I don’t speak of my cake desire to my wife the entire time. The cake desire has acquired the specific shape of carrot cake. Yeah, it’s my favorite, especially if it’s spicy with raisins. That’s like, yeah, orgasm. But I don’t pursue cake, don’t speak of it, etc.
Of course I dream of it. There’s cake everywhere in my freaking dream. I’m in a hallway with cake. I’m being offered cake, being told by a woman wandering, “Take whatever you want.” Every time that I go to get a piece, some event diverts me. I awake wanting cake for breakfast.
Which, while thinking of yesterday, talking to my rumbling stomach today, and reviewing my dream as I pursue my healthy oatmeal breakfast, brings the musical group, Cake, to mind, so here’s “Long Skirt/Short Jacket” (2000) just cuz I like it.
And, you know, cake. It’s a humorous video, listening to people’s comments about the song as they listen. Cheers
