Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Kinefloofics (floofinitions) – The branch of floofatics concerned with floof activity and motion without reference to the causal forces.
In use: “When a new floof comes around — either as a casual visitor to the property or introduced as a new floofhold member — it’s natural for the other floofs as well as the humans to apply kinefloofics to understand what the new booger is like.” – Excerpt from “Once Upon A Floof; The Relationships Between Humans and Animals”
Acflooftion (floofinition) – the process of adding animals or materials associated with animals, such as food, toys, and furniture, to a location.
In use: “With one floof, little sign of acflooftion is usually noticed, but as more animals join the household, acflooftion accelerates, with more food and water bowls seen, along with toys, pet doors, and things like beds.”
Floofnoulli’s Principle (floofinition) – A principle of floof culture which states that the increase in a human’s stealthiness when they’re preparing, getting, or consuming food directly relates to its tastiness or desirability, and a floof must therefore use more energy to try to get their share of the food as quickly as possible.
In use: “Although apparently asleep, Daisy heard the subtle kitchen sounds. Instantly recalling Floofnoulli’s Principle, she leaped from sleeping position to dead run, sliding to a stop in the kitchen in front of Lisa, who was just about to eat a potato chip.”
Parroof (floofinition) – ‘Parrot Floof’: an animal or bird which enjoys resting on people’s shoulders.
In use: “Barry became known as Parrot, because the parroof was always seeking to rest himself on Klein’s shoulder, which wasn’t bad when Barry was a puppy barely larger than Klein’s hand, but more daunting when the Tibetan Mastiff achieved his full growth.”
We got you Wednesday here. *wince*. July 5, 2023. Back to work, ye scurvy dogs. 2023 is more than half gone. On the bright side, you have less than half left. *wince* Time is running up on you. You, me, and the rest.
Gonna be 97 F today. *wince*. Good thing it’s Wednesday. Meeting with friends to indulge in some cold beer. We’ve divided between the light and the dark sides. The light side will be partaking of an IPA while the dark side is going for ale, because it’s summer, and some of them don’t like their beer too dark in the summer.
Ah, such strange dreams this morning in the dark hours. *wince*. Don’t know what they meant, if anything. We had root beer floats with friends on their deck last night, another of our traditions. We usually watch fireworks with them. I’d rather not have the fireworks. Animals and environment don’t need that kind.
Fireworks were illegal this year in Ashlandia, where the bus doesn’t go all the way uptown and the children are chauffeured. Too dry and hot. Still beset by drought. Yet, there will be some who will set off their fireworks cause, ‘Merica. Freedom. Tucker didn’t mind them. Papi, though, hid out for hours. He’s okay this morning but he wasn’t a happy floofy last night.
Today’s music is “Stranger Blues” with Steve Miller and Peter Frampton. Just cause I like the sound, and not because of something said last night, causing The Neurons to start playing it, where it still plays in the morning mental music stream.
Stay pos, be chill, and don’t let the boogerheads get you down. Coffee is served, sir. Here’s the music. Enjoy, please.
Cheers
She: “I need to wash those front windows. The cats got fingerprints all over them.”
He, who might take things too literally: “Fingerprints. Really?”
I dreamed I was traveling through space. My house and its lot had been lifted away from the Earth, and there we went, soundlessly zooming through space. After thinking in the dream, is that what’s happening, I was given a distant perspective that confirmed, yep, there I go, with the house, wife, cats, and yard.
I pointed it all to my wife, calling to her as she did something in another room. All I had no idea what our destination was and had questions — was I onboard a larger ship, and who launched us like this — I enjoyed being out there. I was exactly as I now am, as was my house and yard. I saw this from a temporary external position, as though I needed to see it, before returning into my body. Settling behind my desk in my home office, I resumed my typing.
I awoke abruptly. In panic, I thought, where are the cats? Where are Tucker and Papi? Did I put them out? OMG, did I put them out in space? But if I put them out into the yard, wouldn’t they be safe, because it’s — it’s — wait.
Confusion mounting and taking over, I stumbled away from bed, thinking, where am I now? What should I do? If I open the door, would it — what would happen? But —
I’d been in space. But wasn’t that a dream? Or was I now dreaming? Neurons regrouping, we agreed with a laugh, being in space was the dream. Reality was that I was home, securely part of the Earth. But I went out and found the cats, ensuring they were really okay, just in case, you know, and then gazed up at the stars and moon for a few seconds with recollection of the dream.
Floofuency (floofinition) – Human’s ability to communicate with, understand, or empathize with animals. People with floofuency are often known as whisperers, i.e., horse whisperer, dog whisperer, cat whisperer, etc.
In use: “Some thought Mick’s floofuency came from living with many animals during his life, but in truth, his floofuency emerged when he met his first cat, a tabby the family adopted and named Tiger.”
This is it, the final countdown, the last rodeo of the June 2023 season. Today is Friday, June 30, 2023. We blast off into July, 2023 tomorrow. To mark it, the weather directors have punched our temps up into the high nineties. Decent humidity, though, the kind that isn’t felt, but nor is it dry.
Had a wild dream night. Local scamper floofs A & B, commonly known as Tucker and Papi awoke me at 4:46 AM. Tucker did the awakening, tapping my hand with a claw until I began petting him. He wouldn’t be denied. Drifting through half-warm thoughts, I began working on my novel in my head. Finally fell asleep and dreamed, interweaving novel fixin’s with dream fixin’s. Papi then was in, eating — crunch, crunch — which, yeah, great, but then, he cried because he wanted out, and Tucker was a few feet away from the pet door, outside, watching, and Papi just don’t trust Tucker. He finally escaped because Tucker came in through the pet door, leaving the opening on the other side unguarded, letting Papi make a break. I put this altogether by hearing a noise, raising my head, peering, observing, and then lowering my head and trying to return to sleep. Reprised the dream/writing cycle, got interrupted by Tucker vigorously employing his scratching pad, returned to dreaming/writing, and then Tucker came back to request more finger action.
Writing while in bed trying to sleep is never good for me. I get into it, it excites me, and The Neurons won’t back down, and then the muses move in and provoke The Neurons. Then, though, then, the muses began playing Eddie Money, “Think I’m In Love” (1982) in the morning mental music stream. Six thirty came so I got up, opened windows and doors, and welcome a cup of coffee into my life.
Opened openings to combat the coming heat. We have air and it works fine but I’m not an A/C person. Dislike them in stores, restaurants, movie theaters, and the house, Just feels so damn chill to me. Rather sweat a bit. But most Americans seem adverse to sweating. One of those peeves for me.
So, here’s Eddie Money and the band. Let’s raise a toast to June’s final day. My toast has butter and grape jelly. BTW, you know how hard it is to get organic grape jelly these days? Most of ’em are loaded with high-fructose corn syrup, to which, as a progressive, I say, no thanks. Oh, well. Stay as pos as you can. Cheers
