Telephloofny(floofinition) – A person who speaks to animals in conversation as if they’re having a phone conversation with them. Origins: Oregon, United States, 2024.
In Use: ‘Taylor didn’t now when she became telephloofny — was it because of her mother — maybe — but as she went through the house, dressing, eating, cleaning, she spoke with her cats, dog, birds, and fish, telling them her plans, rejoicing over a change of the weather for the better (“Sunshine and blue skies, and look at you all, already in position to enjoy it”), finishing by asking each, “Do you have any special plans for the day? Digging up a plant? Just floozing?”‘
Feeling a hungim, I went out and picked up breakfasts burritos — egg, cheese, and potatoes — from our local Market of Choice. A ‘hungim’ is a ‘hungry whim’ for the uninformed.
I’m just trying to keep the language moving forward, or movfor, if you will. Hey, come on, how do you think they emerged with words like ‘yesterday’ in the past?
Now I’m back to drinking my blafee. Yes, black coffee. Cheers
Flooftaposition(floofinition) Positioning of two or more creatures in close proximity that highlights their differences in demeanor, form, or markings. Origins: 2024, worldwide web.
In Use: “Kittens or puppies rambunctiously cavorting around a stoic and patient mother is one of the classic flooftapositions familiar to people.”
In Use: “The flooftaposition of floofchievous ferrets playing around their calm feline brother has captivated the Internet.”
Wind and clouds dominate Ashlandia’s Monday morning, where it’s 38 degrees F. Blue sky and sunshine have worked their way into the scene. At least the rain has stopped. Snow tops ranges and trees located over 3500 feet, offering us some wintry scenery. December 16, 2024, winter solstice is rushing our way.
We went south into higher elevations yesterday. Up there in elevation, down there on the road, the snow accumulaiton over 3,000 feet looked like six to eight inches. This was eight miles from our place, a twelve minute drive. My wife and I agreed, it was nice to visit the snow and admire the beauty of the white dusting the tall pines over the craggy white-topped mountains bathed in sunshine and backlit with blue sky, but leaving that icy scene behind was also nice.
Over in Europe, governments are losing votes of confidence. France already went; now Germany has joined them. Just to lift my spirits (please note the sarcasm), I read a NYTimes opinion piece, “A Mild Defense of Lara Trump”.
Fair enough. But before anyone gets super sniffy about Lara Trump’s fitness for high office, I feel I should remind everyone of Tommy Tuberville.
Honestly. Whether defending white supremacists or blockading hundreds of military promotions for months, the gentleman from Alabama has not exactly covered himself in glory. And when it comes to sycophancy, it’s hard to imagine Ms. Trump would be much more pliant than Mr. Tuberville, who recently declared that it is not Republican senators’ job to vet Mr. Trump’s cabinet picks. So much for “advice and consent.”
But no need to dogpile Mr. Tuberville. When it comes to jelly-spined Trump toadies, he is not alone in the Senate. Josh Hawley? Ron Johnson? Mike Lee? In so many ways, the coin has already been devalued.
Yes, let’s start a cheer *snark*: Lara Trump is not the worse senator in a chamber full of crappy voter decisions. That’ll cheer us up.
The Neurons surprise me by introducing with a poem learned in high school. William Wadsworth, of course, because that’s who I mostly learned in that era. Syliva Plath, Edna St. Vincent Millay, ts elliott, Billy Collins and others came later.
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
That’s all I wanted to remember: ‘The world is too much with us, getting and spending’, and ‘for this, for everything, we are out of tune.’
That’s my feeling today. I’m an guitar set aside, gathering dust in a closet. My strings and frets are worn, and I feel out of tune.
Despair not, for Der Neurons immediately introduced a song to the morning mental music stream (Trademark sagging) to address my feelings.
I’m singing this note cause it fits in well with the chords I’m playing.
I can’t pretend there’s any meaning hidden in the things I’m saying.
But I’m in tune.
Right in tune.
Yes, it’s the Who, one of the bands of my youth, coming through with “Getting in Tune” from 1971 and their epic album, Who’s Next? The present is just an echo of the past, isn’t it?
Ah, maybe I just have a case of the Mondays. I offer this Office Space clip for elucidation.
Let’s get on with this. Coffee, stat! Here we go. First, the music. Cheers
Flooftente(floofinition) – Friendly cooperation or informal alliance between animals or species. Origins: 1908, France.
In Use: “Although competing for treats and attention, Indigo and Blue soon realized flooftente would aid them, a deal sealed when the cat broke into a cupboard and delivered treats to the dog.”
Floofskirt (floofinition) – 1. Manuever to go around an animal. Origins: Internet, United States, 2024. Derived from ‘tree skirt’: cutting a wide swath around a tree to avoid knocking off ornaments.
In Use: “Unfamiliar with cats, Penny did a wide floofskirt around the calico, but the little thing saw her and ran up with an excited meow and loud purrs. Within seconds, Penny discovered she was under a floofspell and took the little critter home.”
2. A swath an animal takes around people, creatures, or objects it deems suspicious.
In Use: “Seeing the new shoe on the floor, Artie stopped dead, gave it a long inquisitive stare, and then executed a floofskirt and trotted across the living room.”
We made Christmas crock pot candy today. I’m employing the marital we. I put Christmas confection on them and found containers to house them until they’re bagged up. My wife did the actual work. She blames me in part for them. She said, “I have to make something to exchange with Lori. She’s going to make that biscotti that you like and bring it over. I need something to give to her.”
Yes, I have a bad habit of effusively thanking people for whatever baked goods they share with me. Folks take that to heart. Thereafter, I’m delivered biscotti, banana-nut bread, zuchinni loaves, peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, grape pie, fudge, and brownies. I know, it’s an American tragedy.
We’re also going to a Swedish smorgasboard, so something was needed as a hostess gift. My wife decided the Christmas crock pot candy would work because we gave them out before, and the husband and wife told my wife how much they liked it.
Michael Seidel, writer 