Floofumbra (floofinition) – a housepet that shadows you from a short distance.
In use: “The little Corgi was a floofumbra, following him from space to space in the house, but stopping at the entries to watch and guard him from across the room.”
Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Floofumbra (floofinition) – a housepet that shadows you from a short distance.
In use: “The little Corgi was a floofumbra, following him from space to space in the house, but stopping at the entries to watch and guard him from across the room.”
Floofathon (floofinition) – a housepet’s race around the house, usually on an erratic course, and often at bewilderingly high speeds, typically lasting for several minutes, and usually with uncertain origins or causes; something (such as an event, activity, or session) characterized by a housepet’s great concentrated effort.
In use: “In an impressive floofathon that lasted over an hour, the four cats gathered at the window and watched the noisy little sparrows at the bird feeder.”
What about the speed of love? she asked.
Raising his eyebrows, he laughed. You can’t measure love’s speed.
Why not?
Love is beyond classic physics and quantum mechanics. Love exists in a reality of its own. Time bends love, and love bends time, and if you try to understand that, you’ll bend your mind.
She said, The Rolling Stones said time is on our side.
The Rolling Stones were wrong. Time doesn’t take sides.
I’m returning to a favorite topic, the speed of time, because I’ve discovered more about about it.
The speed of time is not universal. As everyone knows, according to the School/Work Principle, time’s speed isn’t constant. When you’re waiting for the school or work day to end, time not only slows, but sometimes goes backward, forcing you to repeat several minutes. Some movies, are like that, too.
Learning of this, the NFL manages to employ this in their football games. The last two minutes of an NFL game often takes as long as most of the rest of the game. My wife can attest to that. She’s endured it. “When are we leaving?” she asks.
“As soon as this game is over.”
“How much is left?”
“Not much.”
That waffling, of course, warns her. “How much time is left?” she asks.
“It’s the last two minutes of the fourth quarter.”
“Okay, I’m going to go bake some cookies.”
Using that as a basis for my research, I confirmed that traffic-jam time drags almost as slow as the final two minutes of an NFL game, or the last ten minutes of work or the school day. Shopping time remains the slowest of all, though. Even the NFL has not been able to slow time like shopping will do. Figuratively speaking, shopping time can literally last an eternity. I’ve endured several election cycles while I’ve been shopping. I found that having a Fitbit helps deal with shopping time. It doesn’t change the rate of speed, but I can get a couple of million steps in while I’m walking around, waiting.
Waiting in line time is almost as bad as shopping time. I’ve had clothes wear out while I’ve been standing in line to pay for my purchases, especially at Costco. Costco cashier lines exist in a weird time zone of their own where time gets very sluggish. I’ve spent hour-minutes in line, gazing at what others have bought and comparing them to our purchases.
On the other end of it, I’ve discovered some periods of time that pass quickly. Sleep time is very fast. I don’t know how many times I thought, I’ll just sleep for a few more minutes, and then close my eyes, and, snap, forty minutes have elapsed.
Writing time is frequently often as fast. I have three hours to write, I think, and a cuppa coffee. Then I begin, and the next thing I know, writing time is ended, and I still have coffee.
Which is sort of weird. Coffee time by itself seems to flow at an ideal pace. That’s not true for all beverages. I can tell you, beer time goes fast. Sit down to have a beer, and next thing you know, it’s hours later.
I watched some NFL wildcard weekend on Saturday and Sunday, then went to see Veep on Sunday, returned home, and watched the Golden Globes.
I think the Golden Globes can learn a few things from the NFL. When San Diego was beating Baltimore, I knew it was the fourth quarter, and so many minutes remained. As Baltimore drove and scored, tension grew because the score was getting close, and they were running out of time.
That’s not really germane.
What I want the Golden Globes to take from the NFL is how much time is left to the presentations. They could have a little clock counting down on a scroll on the bottom, along with what movies and stars have taken what awards so far.
Sure, the G2 could also break their broadcast into quarters, too. I wouldn’t have a problem with that. That would give the hosts some more talking points. I could imagine Oh saying last night, “That ended the first quarter, Adam, and we haven’t still heard anything about the big movies and stars.” Adam could reply, “Yes, but there’s still time, Sandra. There’s still a lot of presenting and awards remaining.”
Then we could have a decent halftime, with a recap by Variety and ET analysts about who won so far while we all go to the restroom and get something to eat and drink.
Just sayin’, y’know?
Floofmotic (floofinition) – of or relating to common housepets, especially their speech.
In use: “When it came to her pets, she took a gothic, floofmotic approach, dropping to her hands and knees to bark, purr, whine and mew.”
Archfloof (floofinition) – a perfect example of a housepet, such as a cat, dog, or bird.
In use: “She, petite, clean, quiet, and loving — except when birds or squirrels rushed past in a noisy flurry outside, or she got into the catnip and acted a little crazy — was the archfloof of domesticated felines, happily living from can to can and treat to treat, snuggling up to her lady at night, comforting the woman with a brush of whiskers, a kiss of fur, and a whisper of purrs.”
Yeah, I’m going to really explore the space this time. Looking forward by looking back. It’s a quantum thing.
Floof-de-lis (floofinition) – a housepet in a position among lilies.
In use: “His Yorkie delighted in hiding in the backyard lilies like a floof-de-lis, a trait that endeared the little rescue dog to him.”