Tag: humor

Chunkofloof

Chunkofloof (floofinition) – 1. An overweight animal. (Origins: late 1990s, early world wide web.)

In Use: “Cunning at finding and getting her treats out of cupboards (often aided by the cat), Annie Barkley quickly grew into an adorable chunkofloof.”

2. A large collection of animal toys, tools, or memfloofabilia. (Origins: 2014, “The Official Guide to the Floofiverse,” McMeowing, Barks, and Wings.)

In Use: “Most homes with pets have a chunkofloof, and I’m no exception, with a cupboard full of food, dishes, brushes, and toys for my floofhearts.”

Recent Use: “Monica shared a video of her chunkofloof, China, building up a chunkofloof of things China was stealing form the neighbors.”

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Floofuzzle

Floofuzzle (floofinition) – 1. To silence an animal through sound, motion, treats, food, or intimidation. Origins: Late floofish, the United States, early 1990s.

In Use: “The trouble with floofuzzling Flowerpuss was she was hellasmart and immediately understood that if she threw a noisy flooftrum, Beth would shower her with treats to floofuzzle her.”

2. Anything that attracts and intrigues an animal. Origins: Middle English, 1528.

In Use: “Hearing something downstairs, Titus leaped up and barked up a storm, and then stood at the top of the staircase, staring down into the darkness, tilting his head to one way and then the other, ears flopping, as he attempted to solve the floofuzzle of the noise he thought he’d heard.”

Recent Use: “Crows seem to love a good floofuzzle, and are experts at figuring things out, even using sticks as tools in their problem solving.”

3. Actions or noises which animals make that confuses others. First used in mid-1950s.

In Use: “Boldly the little patchy white tabby marched up to the giant German Shepherd and delivered a swat on his black nose, causing him to draw back, floofuzzled. The dog seemed to be thinking, ‘What is this bold little creature? How did it get into the house? And what is that smell?'”

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Eloflooftion

Eloflooftion (floofinition) – A style of speaking to an animal especially in private.

In Use: “Derek and Hercules were both substantial individuals, when alone at home, Derek always slipped into a squeaky eloflooftion that had the dog pumping his tail in zest and bark with happiness.”

In Use: “Whenever people entered the house and spotted the kittens, they inevitably told the tiny critters how cute the beings were in eloflooftion like they were talking to human infants.”

Recent Use: “Sometimes eloflooftion isn’t needed because the floof and the human both know how much they love and appreciate one another.

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Sunday’s Wandering Thoughts

My good ol’ Fitbit, which isn’t that old, actually — I’ll need to look that up — stopped working again.

First sign: at 9:15 this morning, it declared that I’d walked over 18,000 steps.

Had I been sleepwalking, I wondered? Chasing the cats, or saving them from a bear, cougar, or other beasts? Not that I recalled, and I believeI would have remembered that. So, must be something else.

Okay. I added resetting the Fitbit to my list of things to do but it was still nominally functioning, until, ‘lo, in the coffee shop, I tapped it for the time and got nada.

Well, I muttered in my mind. That sucks.

But what was really irritating was that, just a little later, as I wrapped up my reading day, I tapped my Fitbit to check the time.

Idiot! Habits are really difficult to stop.

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: super

Ahoy everyone, it’s Sunday, February 11, 2024. Here are today’s top headlines.

Ah, never mind that for now. We’ll do that later. In weather, sprinter had dashed back into the Ashlandia, with strong spring highlights overtaken weak winter elements. 52 F, with classic strong sunshine lording over bright blue, it’s a good day to do many things. Today’s high will be 58 F.

House painting continues with no issues at all. My wife and I did a walk around to see the progress yesterday, and we’re pleased. The housefloofs have adjusted the situation. Tucker went for an outside visit this morning, conducting a recce of the painters’ supplies. Not at all concerned by appearances, he then returned to the door and was granted re-entry. Papi, having seen it all now, is little bothered, dashing in and out several times with barely more than a head bob toward the painting gear, confirming, yes, that stuff is all still there. Hustling in before they returned, both cats are now retired in the house in sunny places filtered by the flimsy plastic over the windows.

As it’s super Sunday in the U.S., the day when the two NFL conference champions play a final game to decide who is number 1 and end the season, I thought I’d blink back at 1993. T’was the year the marching bands and drill teams were gently shuffled aside, and the Super Bowl pop era. Game number XXVII was being held at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, California. The Buffalo Bills, representing the AFC, faced the NFC Champions Dallas Cowboys. The Bills were there for the third straight year. They came again the next year to make it four in a row, setting a record as the first time to appear in four straight Super Bowls. Sadly, they remain winless in that realm.

For that first pop Super Bowl, they hired a pop icon, Michael Jackson. One of his songs performed that day was “Billie Jean”. Released ten years before, featuring a deep bass line and telling a story, it was and is a song the people enjoy dancing to. It’s not ranked the best Super Bowl halftime show, but it’s the first commercialized pop version. The league and network had never done anything like that. They’ve since learned from mistakes and improved the show until we’re at this point. Frankly, the shows have become fat to me and can use some simplification, but that’s me.

If you’re watching the game — or the commercials, or halftime show, as so many people do, I hope you’re entertained. I’ll watch the game and cheer the KC Chiefs in honor of my neighbor, Walt. After being a lifelong KC fan, waiting for another SB victory, he died the year before Andy Reid and Patrick Mahommes delivered the first SB win since Hank Stram and Len Dawson took them to the big show in 1969 and defeated the Minnesota Vikings and Al Kapp.

Stay strong, remain positive, lean forward, and register and vote, if you’re in a democracy and afforded the opportunity. Here’s the music; coffee has been guzzled. But first, a 1993 SB commercial break from Lee Jeans, featuring a young Alan Cumming.

Cheers

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The Writing Moment

I had a strong and productive writing session yesterday. But being so involved, my sense of time evaporated. I found myself leaving the coffee shop an hour later than usual.

I couldn’t go directly home, but had to go buy light bulbs. Finishing with that errand, I jumped into the car to head home. By now, I was an hour and a half later than usual.

My phone rang. It was my wife. “What’s up?” I asked.

“Where are you?” she answered. “You’re much later than your usual time. I’m calling to see if you’re dead or unconscious in a hospital.”

“You called to see if I was dead or unconscious?” I laughed.

She did not.

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Lights Out

Light bulbs are so like cereal, ice cream, and bread. The range of choices sprawl along store aisles like invading armies staging to attack.

It’s been a period of lights out in our house. Light bulbs retired in the last several weeks all over our house. Kitchen, stove top, office, bedroom, garage, living room accent light have all been afflicted. As each burned out, I checked pulled it and checked it out for the replacement. Several of them hadn’t been replaced since being installed in 2006, when we moved in, so we got our mileage out of them. Easiest, in theory, was the office light, which had been first to go dark.

There are actually three bulbs up there. I pulled off the shade to take a look. One was burned out; one socket was empty. The third was almost an antique: 60 watts, GE, filament, frosted white. Poor thing.

“Can we get something brighter?” my wife asked. She’s had a lifetime of vision issues and compensates by turning on every light possible. When she uses the kitchen, she generally turns on four sets of lights. Yes, four. There are ceiling spotlights, under-cabinet work lights, and breakfast bar lights. The dining room is adjacent, just on the other side of the breakfast counter, so she always turns on it on to, adding the lumens from its five bulbs. There are basically 23 bulbs of different wattage going on when she’s in the kitchen.

The only one no in use alone is the sink task light. The others’ switches are clustered together, four switches under one faceplate by the kitchen’s entrance. She just spreads her fingers, flattens her palm, and hits them all, usually simultaneously click. But the sink task light is by the sink, and she forgets it. Funny, because it’s my favorite, and the one I mostly use, usually the only one I use. Just for the record, there’s also the range top lights, which are part of the hood/fan assembly attached to the microwave’s underside. She doesn’t use them. I use them when I’m cooking or to leave a light on when we’re out of the house and returning after dark.

The office required a sixty-watt bulb. Easy peasy, right? But how many Ks should it have, and lumens? I want an energy saver but of what nature? These were things that I didn’t know that I needed to know. I ended up with 60-watt comparable LED daylight white 5000K bulbs boasting of 750 lumens. Three were installed and the shade installed. Then, click.

OMG. “Wow.” My wife sounded giddy. “I can see.”

I was overwhelmed. She often accuses me of being in the dark, scolding, “How can you see in here?” Under the force of these three bulbs, I felt that sunglasses would be suitable. And they only use eight watts of power, don’t emit much heat, and should last over ten years.

“So you like them?” I facetiously asked. “Do you want them in the bedroom?”

“Yes!”

With that done to her satisfaction, I turned to the kitchen. The ceiling spotlights, all old energy-savers, issued a duller light. “Want me to install daylight bulbs in here?”

She hesitated. “They’re awfully bright.”

Screw it; I did it. Well, there are four of them. I replaced three.

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed. “I can see. Wow. This place is really dirty.”

No, it wasn’t, but she’s fond of using hyperbole like that.

“Too bright?” I asked. They were 75-watt comparable LED spotlights rated at 650 lumens and 4800K clear daylight. Yes, indeed, they were bright. They also cost about eight dollars each but would endure for almost twelve years. Their specs also claimed their use would only cost about $.016 per year. The last coaxed doubt out of me. Surely that couldn’t be right.

After those bulbs, the rest were anticlimactic. 40 watts for the range. 35-watts LED with a G8 pin base for the under-cabinet work lights. A 50-watts soft white pin mini spotlight (L9) for the living room accent installation over the fireplace, and one of the 60-watt LED bulbs (I’d purchased a ten-pack of the FEIT offering) in the garage. In all, I installed fifteen bulbs, learned a smattering more about the world of lighting, and spent about $57 in light bulbs. But I should spend less on replacements and use less energy.

We’ll see. It was so, so different from the old days of finding a small hardware section and buying almost exclusively on their wattage. Like cereal, which now has what seems like a million choices. Or bread and all of its options over wheat, grain, multi-grain, gluten-free — well, you probably know the dealio. We’ve come a long way from sliced white bread.

Or ice cream. You better know what you want when you decide to buy ice cream in a grocery store. Low fat, dairy free, gluten free, etc. That’s just a start. Then there are sizes and flavors. Prices. Or are you going to go with other options, like frozen yogurt? Options and choices can be overwhelming.

Just like when you buy light bulbs.

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Today’s Wandering Thought

Heading into a store, I encountered a woman standing to one said, leash in hand. On the leash’s other end was a handsome but elderly golden retriever, sitting and yawning. I said good morning to her and then addressed the dog, “What a handsome, yawning puppy.”

Without a beat passing, the woman replied, “I’ll let him know what you said.”

We both burst out laughing.

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Floofgetfulness

Floofgetfulness (floofinition) – A condition where things are forgotten or not done because of an animal.

In Use: “He was planning to vacuum the living room carpet but the little kitten was deeply asleep and looked so sweet, he couldn’t bear to disturb the floof and decided he’d do it later. Then floofgetfunless slipped in, and the vacuuming was not done at all.”

In Use: “Enduring a splash of floofgetfulness, Connor left his sandwich out, giving his dog an opportunity to help herself.”

Recent Use: “Demonstrating the profound floofgetfulness of a newby puppy owner, Maurice left the puppy running free in the house while he ran to a store for a few items, and returned to a disaster zone.”

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: enthusiastic

It’s Friday, it’s Febrary 9, it’s still 2024, it’s 40 F and it’s unrelenting cloudy. Layers of clouds, deepest dark in the forefront, light gray white serving as background, all blocking blue sky and warm sun. Sprinter has yielded back to winter. High will be a sweltering 43 F.

They’re masking the house today to begin painting tomorrow. I’m surprised by the conditions they work in, cold and rainy. But if it works, it works. We have two good guys, Brad and Gary, from Rick Stevens painting doing the work. They’re thorough and hardworking, clear professionals who have mastered the processes. Fun cheering them on toward the finish.

The weather has the cats playing in-out-in, a very popular game among floofs. Papi excels. Tucker took one turn, came back in, and headed for the bedroom and sleep. Papi, though, played at least five rounds, taking time between rounds to request food and pets. He’s a sweet little stinker.

I’m late with posting today. A few weeks ago, I wrote a little bit around a prompt about someone named Darla. I shared it with a few friends. They loved it and pestered me to write more. That wasn’t in my plans but I kept thinking about it, playing out different trajectories and concepts, etc. Today I awoke with more Darla in mind. I built out a long scene and then sat at the ‘puter and typed. With a few pauses to dress, eat, talk to the painters and my wife, and drive to the coffee shop, I wrote twenty pages today. It just kept pulling me along. Love writing days like this.

Songwise, nothing was homethere until I thought about the drive to write that piece after I stopped writing. Then The Neurons punted “Got to Get You Into My Life” into the no-longer-morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks, I promise). I guess The Neurons thought the song was playing into my writing urge. Well, okay.

This Beatle song was released in 1966, when I was ten. Paul McCartney wrote it, and in this video, he performs it at the White House for President Barack Obama, Michelle Obama, and a few guests in 2014.

Stay positive, remain strong, lean forward, and register and vote. That’s all I ask, except for coffee, security, kidness to animals, etc. Here’s the music.

Cheers

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