Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Haplop (floofinition) – Happy gallop that animals do when feeling joyous or energized. Origins: 17th century obscure Floofman.
In Use: “Hearing that he was going for a w – a – l – k, Scotter grabbed his leash in teeth and set off on a haplop for five laps of the apartment.”
Floofpers (floofinition) 1. A general term given by animals to the human collective that takes care of them. Origins: Worldwide web, late 1990s.
In Use: “Have some rough experiences as a puppy, Thor remained wary of the floofpers, whether they were offering pets, treats, shots, or shelter and friendship.”
2. Anyone who takes care of animals.
In Use: “Robert had never planned to be a floofpers, but as they often say, there’s a floof distribution system, and it usually delivers the right animal to the right person.”
Mood: irasperanky
Awoke with a nostalgia for change and thought, someday. The Neurons filled in the date as Someday, October 6, 2024. Sounds like a potential novel title.
Someday is another autmer day, kicking off in the low fifties. Building on sunshine and blue skies, the final temperature measurement should sing at about 86 degrees F. Air quality is good, two, single digits to double digits surfing the teens and low twenties. Sweet air.
Less than 30 days until Election Day 2024. Vote blue.
So much news to potentially write about that I shun writing about any of it. Sumovit is so damn depressing that it pulls my thoughts down into some deep mud and I just don’t wanna be there today. Weary of the effort for now. Turning attention to other things. Like a requirement to attend another’s seventieth birthday party.
Sounds like a good thing, right? A party, yea! Cake, snacks, all that. Starts at 2 PM. Right in the afternoon’s meat.
But. The cranky bug bit me in the ass today. Think it might have happened when I was sitting on the can doing the daily. A cranky infection has spread, affecting my spirit. Gotta grit my teeth to go fete my casual friend. I have many other things I want or should be doing. As always, a balance between the do’s — must, will, want, can’t do — must be struck. Then you ride the wave of the day best you can. Fall off, get back up, start riding again.
Today’s music is “I Will Follow” by U2. Came out in 1980. Entered the morning mental music stream (Trademark someday) today. Once again, cats caused The Neuron’s choices. Talking to my floofs, I was urging them to follow me if they want their breakfast. Papi the ginger blade was eagerly willing — “Let’s go let’s go let’s go” were his reaction — but Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) seemed to be collecting flies. Finally, with some mild irritation and exasperation — let’s call it irasperation — Tucker did a slow roll stroll another direction. “Okay,” I said. “I will follow you.” And that’s when U2 kicked off with their 1980 rocker in my head.
Stay positive. Stay up on your vaccination against the cranky bug. Crankiness can spread faster than the flu. Coffee has made its grand entrance. Here’s the music. Walk away, walk away, I will follow. Cheers
Treazooms (floofinition) – The excited and happy activities, such as racing around, dancing, and singing, animals exhibit when they receive or are going to be given a treat. Origins: 21st century Internet circa 2023.
In Use: “As soon as he brought out the treat pouch, Musk (no relation to Elon) went into protracted treazooms that covered the living room, dining room, and kitchen.”
Mood: Fuzzcollecting
Another splash of autumn covers the day, this day being Friday, October 4, 2024. Skies, trees, sun, etc. Coolish warming air grazing around 61 F. Expectations that we’ll kiss upper seventies today, a few nicks down from the mid 80s felt yesterday. Tomorrow, we’re back into the eighties, riding the seesaw of seasonal change.
The cats traverse the doors in and out, liking the outdoors in sun patches, bundling themselves into loaves, moving when the sun shies away from their chosen skim of earth. Chess with sunshine, they think themselves kings, bishops at least, but the sun treats them like pawns.
The Neurons are wandering my mind’s corridors, apparently. They dust off a 1968 song and start playing it in the morning mental music stream (Trademark ancient). As breakfast makes its trip to the stomach’s acids, I question The Neurons about why this and now? This is Cream doing “Anyone for Tennis.” Now is today, 2024, a zillion plus one years removed from when I was a boy and saw them on television. Cream were on the Smothers Brothers Show and did this show. I found the video to it on Youtube. Their clothing snatches back reminders of the purple and blue paisley shirts and denim bell bottoms worn by moi in those days. Later, in my high school years, the bell bottoms would remain but the shirts would become simpler designs and colors. The hair was always long, thick, wild and curly, exasperating my divorced parents, amusing my sisters and aunts and uncles, and sometimes entrancing a girl.
Done with the mornin’ memory portion of the day unless The Neurons pull more out. They may at any given. Stay positive, test negative, be strong, and vote blue. Coffee has had its way with me. Here’s the music. Onward. Cheers
Joie de Floof (floofinition) – The intense joy or sense of vitality that an animal can deliver in a situation. Origins: France, 1889
In Use: “Gadget was a tripod but with a joie de floof that overwhelmed all in his sphere, and the videos of him soon had millions of hits.”
In Use: “After a tiring day, Duke’s singular joie de floof revitalized Dija and helped her shed the frustrations and irritations of that enforced pastime called ‘work’.”
Mood: adultuated
Autumn continues it new reign of weather, pale blue sky, bold but late sunshine, goldenish green trees. Upta 56 F now, with 80 F on the horizon. 80 F makes a fine temperature for Ashlandia. If you ever vote for the temp for this place, I urge vote 80.
Told my wife yesterday after we got some things done, “You know, as I look back on October, I’m impressed with how much we got done.” Cuz this is Wednesday, October 2, 2024.
I enjoy watching Papi. Papi is the ginger blade component of our felinious duo. Younger. Very outdoorsy. Coming in the back door, he avoids stepping on the mat. Like it’s lava. Then inside, he circles around the outside of the sofa, to the room’s far side, like he’s a scout in enemy territory. Cuts back in to the rug under the dining table. Like it’s a safe base. Talks to me from there, tail up, back arched, whiskers brimming. I make inquiries about his appetite and willingness to eat. Tail still standing like a sundial, he races alongside as I head for food prep. Gives me some vocal encouragement. Then sits. Patient. Waiting for the food. Final burp of pleased noise as his bowl lands. Sitting, body adjustments, because he must be postured just so, it’s a thing of his, he commences.
Brother-in-law’s mother passed away. 92. COVID pneumonia. She, like all of her children, including BIL, are Trump supporters. But her grandchildren are not. Sorry for the loss, etc, but my emotional sea churns with conflicting currents.
I went out with the cats and enjoyed the still fresh air. They groomed and tended to sounds while I just did breathing exercises and reflected. For some reason that only The Neurons know, Tom Petty ripped into “You Wreck Me” from 1995 in the morning mental music stream (Trademark wrecked). Could be simple association. (Ya think?) October 1974, I entered the military, October, 1995, I dished the retirement papers to the service. This song is from ’95. So. Not saying the military wrecked me. Not at all.
Stay positive and lean forward and vote blue next month. Coffee and I already rendezvoused on familiar grounds. Here’s the music, and away we go.
Floofpes (floofinition)– Internet slang. Literally, ‘floof tropes’, overused cliches and outmoded themes about animals. Origins: Worldwide Web, early twenty-first century.
In Use: “One floofpes children often heard as they grew up was that they were ‘fighting like cats and dogs’, which many of them doubt as they see videos or personally witness dogs and cats getting along very well.”
Mood: Coffeenical
Slept in, and the overfloofs allowed it. Rising ticks after 8:30, I found a comfy autumn day hunkering in. Blue sky like we’ve seen thousands of time, but is still wondrous. A full sun was encroaching, driving up the mid 50s temperature. We’re due to make a final stop in the mid 80s before the sun finishes business.
This is Saturday, September 28, 2024.
Today’s theme music overtook me from a song’s line. Yeah, unusual, right? Yes, that was snark.
I was reading Things the MAGAs Claim. A wearying trope. Turning off from that, I mentally countered, “Well, you got your reasons and lies.” As the standard morning activities continued on semi-auto-pilot, The Neurons introduced a vocalist singing “Well, you got your reasons, and you got your lies” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark streaming). Wasn’t until coffee blessed my throat that I was like, oh, hey, that’s that Tonic song. What’s that Tonic song? More coffee and I remembered, “If You Could Only See” from 1997.
I figured, oh, I had to have used that before. So, I sat and searched. Yep, December of 2020, I posted this:
I ended up with a political spin on a love song today. The song, from 1997, is “If You Could Only See” by Tonic. It came to me as I read some interview with another Republican insisting that the election is a fraud and everything must be tossed out. They don’t want a do-over, mind you: they just want Trump declared the winner. Never mind any facts that say anything about the election’s validity. Some nefarious, shadowy and powerful individual allowed Trump to be elected four years ago, let him run the country, but now said, “Oh, but enough. We will rig the election so he loses.”
Such bizarre reasoning always prompts wonder in me. Why do they so love Trump? Why do they put so much faith in unproven conspiracies? Why do they believe statements shown to be lies and fabrication?
Yeah, we have theories about it all. It brought some lines from Tonic’s song into my mental stream this AM.
Well you got your reasons.
And you got your lies.
And you got your manipulations.
That sums it up for me. Strange reasoning, reinforced by lies and manipulation. Truly, this song from 1997 is proper for this era in 2020.
Funny that the song fit my mood as Trump lost the 2020 election and declare it had been stolen from him, and now, as he runs for office again, with the GOP doing their best to steal it for him by hampering voting.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote blue. Here we, Saturday is underway. Cheers
Neofloofthic (floofinition)– Belonging to a previous animal and now outmoded. Origins: 1865, Sir John Floofbock.
In Use: “She thought that the dog’s toys were neofloofthic relics of another era when she began taking care of her daughter’s cat for two weeks but on the first day, the cat was attacking everything that the dog used to play with.”
Michael Seidel, writer 