Floofralism
Floofralism (floofinition) – 1. Theory that two or more animals coming together shape reality. Origins: 1872, United States,
In Use: “Once Marsha and Geoff added three rescue animals — one dog and a feline brother and sister pair — a positive floofralism imbued the household, with everything becoming more relaxed and the two humans feeling happier.”
2. Flooflitical floofosphy that animals of different background, habits, and behavior, can peacefully co-exist and even thrive in the same household. Origins: 1787, Sheba and Champion (pets in James Madison’s household), United States (A Floofizen’s Guide to Flooflitics).
In Use: “Jeff’s two dogs were dubious when Jeff married Lori and she brought two cats, two birds, an aquarium full of fish, and another dog, but Lori’s elderly cat, McCavity, explained floofralism to the dogs, and adjustments were made.”
Gakdar
Gakdar (floofinition) – A system of instincts and senses used to spot an animal’s vomit before it is stepped in. Origins: circa 1960s, United States slang.
In Use: “His gakdar failing, Michael walked right into a small, wet present from one of his floofs.”
In Use: “Many people living with a pet for the first time soon learn that good gakdar is a necessity.
Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts
Nothing like unwittingly stepping — barefoot — into floof gack to change the morning’s trajectory.
Unwittingly is not superfluous there, either. On the one hand, what fool would wittingly step into floof gack? Are there people out there who cry with glee, “Look, floof gack,” and step in it? Perhaps; this world has some unusual individuals in it.
But it was unwittingly because I didn’t know anyone had gacked. So the gackdar was down. No warning at all until my recovering foot found the wet squishyness under it, forcing me to keep it up off the floor while I hopped-hobbled to the bathroom to rinse it off.
At least it was on the hardwood floor, and it wasn’t a major gack, just a category one. Easy clean up, you know?
DFZ
DFZ: Deflooferized Zone (floofinition) – Space or location where an animal’s presence is discouraged. Origins: Late 1950s, United States.
In Use: “Many people who share a space with a floof attempts to create DFZs, like beds, sofas, and counter tops. But modern video surveillance systems inform them that once they leave the house, DMZs become comfort zones.”
In The Beginning
They told us we had to have skin.
Our mind pulsed against the news. We don’t know that we would have accepted the premise, were we told beforehand that having skin was a requirement.
Ca!ixha flew in over our head, red with anger. Their thoughts flew into our awareness. Anger, shock, wariness. Doubt. The overarching question, is it true? Is this needed?
My intellect sewed together the action. Having skin was inevitable. We were studying Humans. We needed to live among them, like them, to learn what it is to be them.
We swallowed this with hardship. But as I did, I pulsed in pride. I’d thought, I think, like a Human, using their constructs. ‘Beforehand’. ‘Sewing’. ‘Action’. ‘Live.’ ‘Swallowed’.
?sho7zn came in. They’d been integrating with others and informed us of greater requirements. We will eat. We will have body functions. We will be I. Me.
Human aspects were introduced to our understanding. We would have ears and tongues. The tongues would be in mouths. With teeth. Hair.
We choked down disgust as the Overreach began threading us with these Human aspects. Eyes and noses. Bones and muscles.
The weight of these things burned our sentience. We were to breathe. Hearts and lungs were given. . Nerves were threaded through us. Skin was applied.
Helplessness ached in us. Our eyes formed ‘vision’. We saw as Humans would see. Millions of us were stretched across the space, layers of us, shoulder to shoulder, feet to head, all looking up, stupidly grinning, waving our appendages. Sounds as Humans trickled in. We gurgled and cooed and giggled and farted.
The Overreach bestowed us their presence. “Now your journey will begin. You will soon each have a mother, at least in the initial stage. What happens to her and you after that will determine whether that mother will remain with you. We are with you the entire time and will gather and analyze all of your activities, thinking, and feelings so that we may learn what it is to be Human.”
Our being buzzed with thinking of ourselves as ‘her and you’ and the many shapes and meanings these words convey. We would be ‘he’ and ‘she’, ‘him’ and ‘her’. The contexts had been introduced to us but without greater substance for attachment, they’d been abstract voids. With the body now encasing us, we were beginning to grasp what it all meant. We would have sex. We would sleep.
The Overreach said, “Now, it is time to be born.”
Red lights flared around us. Cold air swamped our tiny form. Something roughly took hold of our body.
In response, we screamed.
Our Human interation had begun.
Kitfloof
Kitfloof (floofinition) Animal who always arrives in the kitchen to beg for a treat when someone goes in to get food. Origins: Circa 2020, Oregon via Internet.
In Use: “A reliable kitfloof, Tucker always roused himself when Michael entered the kitchen, slow trotting in to see what he could beg off his floofman; perhaps a few pieces of chicken (his favorite), a small cheese offering, or the chance to like the dishes after. Michael rarely failed to give him something.”
Twosday’s Theme Music
Mood: Twosdayized
28 degrees, Twosday come into the valley with sunshine, blue skies, and patchy fog. The day hovers in the liminal folds between autumn and winter, that murky zone called autner. Feels like it could get colder. Feels like clouds could march in and dump snow. But the sunshine claims it might get warmer. In fact, some forecasters insist, as they have on previous days, that today’s high will crack the fifties and stalk the upper edges toward sixty. But the valley’s stagnant air messes with the forecasting process. Yesterday’s high attained 45 F when 56 F was supposed to be the ceiling. So, I’m not planning to see 56 F today.
This stagnant air is weird. A still, windless phenomena, the chill it carries creeps through everything. You dress for much colder air and the house heating works hard because that creeping chill.
Going through the valley yesterday to shop, I saw that a thin line of brown pollution rimmed the more populated western region. Get used to that, I thought. Trump and his clown cabinet will cut regulations. “Business,” they’ll shout, and the sheeple shout, “Yes. Business first.” Business means prosperity, right? Wage increases. Profits. Bull market.
Most of the sheeple fail to understand that the government and economy worked better under Democratic control. Their limited memories don’t pull up the dark, sooty airs the United States experienced in the 1960s and 1970s before the EPA and their pesky regs came out and ordered, “Thou shall not pollute.” Nor do they comprehend the impact on health that it brings, and the reciprical effect on productivity and costs due to worker illness and absences. They don’t think that fucking deep. Or course, it’s hard to do so with Republicans bleating otherwise in a 24/7 cacophony. And it’s hard to remember and think whn your education is being hamstrung with teachings about how Jesus saved the world and climate change is a hoax, and look! Illegals! Trans! Woke! They also believe that wealthy people won’t hoard their wealth but will spread it around like fertilizer and turn everything cash green for everyone.
Yes, they are fucking fools.
Sigh. On to other matters.
We shopped at Costco. It’s been a go-to for us since the early 1990s. Our local Costco was moderately busy on a Monday afternoon. Mostly older shoppers. Ahem. Like us. As we entered and began our prowl, my wife shouted at the milling shoppers, “What about inflation?” She’s still riled up about that. I told her, “Babe, they’ve heard whispers that it’s gonna get worse. This is Doomsday shopping. They’re out here trying to get deals and soothe their troubled minds with food and toys to help them when reality crashes in.”
Being the second day of the workweek, it’s natural that this is called Twosday. Many don’t realize that the first spelling for ‘two’ or 2 was tue. Somehow, as the language and alphabet swelled into its current shape, tue became two. But the day of the week was already cemented in influential calendar makers, so Tuesdays remained.*
* Yes, that was all b.s.
Today’s music came out in 2020, while lockdown was prevalent. Being retired, I don’t work, so the song doesn’t really address me and my grips. But The Neurons called it up because I’ve been muttering to myself, “I need to get back to the coffee shop and get back to work on my writing.” Ding ding ding. The Neurons had a piece of “Work” by Pop Evil in the morning mental music stream (Trademark being worked): “All I do is work!”
Alright, coffee and I have come to an agreement. I will make it and pour it into my watering hole, and it will kick my energy up. Look up, open your eyes, and breathe deep. Time for another Twosday to be vanquished. Here’s the music. Cheers
Cyber Mundaye
Heads up, everyone! It’s Cyber Mundaye.
I know, I was taken by surprise, too. Fortunately, I saw sixteen zillion and seventeen emails alerting me to Cyber Mundaye. Deleting them, I almost forgot it was Cyber Mundaye. Fortunately, many pages that I clicked on had banners, headlines, or popups declaring Cyber Mundaye.
Thank Dog we have technology to remind us it’s Cyber Mundaye. What would we do without it?
Michael Seidel, writer 