He got out his free weights today. They were the ‘Jack Lelane’ brand, given to him as a gift in another dimension. He theorized they would make a perfect material to fence the Roomba in and out of where he wanted it to clean.
He was right.
TMFF
TMFF (floofinition) [pronounced ‘timfuf] – Shorthand or slang which means Too Much Floof Fur.
In use: “He looked at the sweater he wanted to wear and mentally noted, TMFF. It’d take time and effort to get all that cat and dog fur off it. The sources watched with smiles at his feet, as if saying, ‘See what we gave you? You’re welcome.'”
Wednesday’s Wandering Thought
He wondered which of them had fallen out of love first. He believed that he did. He felt like she was always verbally abusing him and emotionally bullying him. He had a list of trespasses against her. She probably had one for him. The best thing to do is not keep a list, but there it was. They were so much alike, and they both always made lists.
DSSF
DSSF (floofinition) – [Pronounced] dissif. Slang, text shorthand for ‘Didn’t sleep, sick floof’.
In use: “When she didn’t show at coffee, everyone wondered what had happened to her. Then Judy received a text, “DSSF – Bounce”. Judy translated for the others, “K didn’t get any sleep because her dog, Bounce, is sick.” K was always so devoted to everyone, but especially animals.”
The Writing Moment
Two writing moments which he really enjoyed happened today. One was a stimulating story idea. It landed without any warning in his head, blowing his mind in multiple ways. Excited, he wrote it up. Something to do later. Ideas for novels and stories were always landing but this one felt really special. He didn’t want to forget it.
The second moment came as he wrote in the novel in progress. His character’s situation and the character’s thinking resulted in a sentence which made him laugh out loud at the coffee shop table.
Yes, it was a fun writing day. Cold and wet, with rain turning to snow and back again, but terrific fun. Coffee done, it was time to shut down the writing like crazy for the day.
Floofspur
Floofspur (floofinition) – Prodding or activity by an animal or person to do something for an animal or to provide something to an animal.
In use: “A classic floofspur is the cat that wakes up before its people and demands that the people rise to feed them now!”
A Black and White Cake Dream
This dream was compact, busy, and brisk. My wife and I were at a school. Both of us were adults. She was a guest while I was taking classes.
The school was an old dark red brick building. Tall and austere, ivy grew up the sides. My class was small, and we were the school’s only class. A large brick walking path went around the school, sometimes weaving round bushes as it did.
My wife was happy being there and I was having a good time. I had two instructors, both female, and older than me. The primary teacher was an attractive woman just a few years older than me, a brunette who was tall and shapely. The course’s end was near, so students and teachers were familiar with each other. My wife would pop in and see how it’s going and then hurry off to some social activity. I was fine with all this.
At one point, I said in French to another student that my name is Michael. He, jokingly replied in broken French that he didn’t know what I was saying because he didn’t speak French. I told him that I didn’t, either. We had a good laugh.
Final papers were due. I found myself rushing into class at the last minute. I didn’t know the subject and the other students began explaining to me what was expected to be turned in. I panicked, thinking that I hadn’t done it, but they reminded me that I had, and told me what I’d written. One of them even had a copy of this. All this flabbergasted me.
The teacher came in and announced in a smiling, friendly way that the course was done and that we’d all passed. There would be a party and everyone was invited. I went to find my wife. When I found her, she was already with a few other students. She knew about the party and ended down the winding path through the bushes to go to the school’s other entrance. I chased after her. Hearing me running after her, she started laughing and running. I passed her.
We reached the other entrance and entered. The attractive teacher was there. She and my wife talked about and then the instructor said that she would be serving cake. I helped her set up tables and chairs and wheeled a television on a cart in for her. She and I were talking throughout, and she began flirting with me. I was flattered but taken aback.
Her flirting grew, but then she left. Everyone sat down with cake, which was a black and white whipped cream cake, with long shaved chocolate curls on it. I was the only one without any. I saw that there was another piece over the television and went over and got it. The teacher entered and asked me what I was doing. I explained that I didn’t get any cake, so I’d taken the last piece. She replied, “I cut everyone a piece and served it. I served enough for everyone, and I served it all. There was none left.”
I answered that I didn’t receive any and then looked at my plate. It was empty except for some whipped cream and chocolate curls. I said, “Did I eat my cake? I don’t remember eating it.”
I looked over at the cake by the television. None was left. I was puzzled and troubled about what had happened.
Then, abrupt dream shift, I was just out walking on the path by myself at dusk when I encountered the instructor. She flirted with me, and then gave me a hug, kissed my cheek and said, “You did very well. See you later.”
I answered a little abruptly, “I can write, but I’m not one of those who can write brilliant, flowery prose.”
Starting to walk away, she turned back to me and answered, “Oh, don’t worry. That’ll come.”
Dream end.
Monday’s Wandering Thought
It’s very odd. The coffee shop has two restrooms. Each has a button-cypher lock. The code for each is the same. It’s written on the menu board in the coffee shop and it’s on labels on both doors. It never changes, but inevitably, people go up to the counter and ask for the restroom combination each day.
Monday’s Theme Music
Spread the alarm. Monday has breached the walls. Save yerselves.
Dawn came in a bit before seven. Sunrise came after the way was cleared, arriving to clear blue skies at 7:42 this morning. The temperature has sprinted up to 45 degrees F and will go all the way to 62 F. The Cedar Creek fire is now in its third month but it’s 68% contained. We don’t smell the fire in our sector any longer but I’m sure others are still enduring it, and I feel for them. Sunset will be at 6:06 PM, so set your alarms. It’ll be October’s last.
We used to go trick or treating after dark when I was a child. In fact, that was one of Mom’s stipulations for when we could begin: “It’s not even dark yet.” These days, darkness is an enemy of the event. Most trick or treating is done in more controlled environments. Schools, stores, and malls have joined the Halloween proceedings. We didn’t buy any treats this year. We’ve bought in the past and generally ate it ourselves in the nights after the goblins and monsters’ cries have faded into November. So we don’t do that no more. Kind of miss it but also, c’est le vie.
After reading emails and the mail last night, The Neurons started playing “Money (That’s What I Want)” by The Flying Lizards (1979). Totally understandable. Almost every entity sending emails and missives in my direction are asking for money. Subscribe to this or that. Buy more of this. Get a new one of that, and replace that other. You need more! Donate to me — we need money to stay free. So, yeah, no surprise that Der Neurons brought up “Money (That’s What I Want)”. Les Neurons could have gone multiple directions with this. Could’ve just fired up Pink Floyd’s song, “Money.” “Money (That’s What I Want)” has been released as a Motown hit, a moneymaker by the Beatles, a cover by the Stones, and, of course, The Flying Lizards.
The Flying Lizards’ rendition is a twist against the others, throwing out a simple tune with a bald, straightforward delivery: “Give me money. That’s what I want.” They’re not truly singing it, just deadpan presenting it. That’s why it works so well for all these money requests that inundate my existence. Take Pfizer, for example. They were heroes, one of several, coming up with COVID-19 vaccines. Now they want money so shots will be over one hundred dollars each. Don’t worry, insurance will cover it. No insurance? Oh, no, that’s not good. But Prizer is a corporation. They exist to make money, right?
BTW, has anyone done a new cover of this song recently? Seems like it’s overdue.
Well, you know the routine. Holds even for Mondays, even on October’s final effort. Stay positive, test neggy, etc. Coffee is in the morning’s collection plate. I’m gonna help meself to some. That’s what I want.
Have a good one. Here’s the tune. Cheers
Floofcontent
Floofcontent (floofinition) 1. An animal who helps others relax or become less anxious or nervous.
In use: “Maurice is a big dog with a huge bark and an even bark. The floofcontent knows the power of his voice, though, and often softens it to a gentle sound, and loves nothing more than laying down and letting people and animals sleep on and with him.”
2. State achieved from being with an animal, especially a pet, and letting go of fears, worries, depression, and anxiety.
In use: “Aster was the best rescue ever in Karla’s mind. Whenever anything got her down, a visit with her pet made her floofcontent. Without her fur buddy, she was certain that she would have lost her mind or killed herself or someone else by now.”
