Infloofpacitate
Infloofpacitate (floofinition) – Movement, positions, or activities limited by an animal or animals’ presence. Origins: Early Common Floof Era, from Middle Floofish. First noted use in England, circa 600 CE.
In Use: “Many people find themselves infloofpacitated by an unwillingness to disturb a furry friend napping on their body”
Saturday’s Theme Music
Mood: sunspired
It’s arrived at last, Saturday, May 11, 2024. Those who have been waiting for this day can let their breaths out. It’s here.
Sun is here as well, gleaming off metal and glass, raising hopes that spring and winter has passed. Not for Mom, though; she prefers winter’s cosy parameters, disliking the heat and humidity that summer ladles out once it’s in control.
All is not perfect out there. White clouds are fronting the hazy horizon. It’s a comfortable, even refreshing 53 F now. But — you knew it was coming — the weather masters inform us that rain will be here in three hours. So precise, aren’t they? Our high won’t eclipse 60 F. Meanwhile, my wife told me that they’d squeaked past 80 F back in Ashlandia.
I watched a lot of “Trump on Trial” with Mom on MSNBC this week. Man, they love discussing the details on those shows, trying to spin, what does it all mean? They emerge with titillating ideas about whether each witness was positive or negative for Trump, the defense, and the prosecution. They’re giddy over what Cohen will say.
But wait, there’s more! There are two witnesses next week. Who will it be besides Cohen? What does this mean for the trial? It is fascinating theater. I’m more interested in the outcome.
Listening and watching, I do wonder what’s going on in Trump’s head. He looks like crap. I wonder what the jurors are thinking. Will they buy the idea, one, that Trump didn’t pay any attention to these $35,000 checks he was signing from his personal account because he was too busy, that he had no idea what they were for?
Can the jurors agree that there was no sex at all? That’s it’s just a con job by Stormy Daniels?
Is it conceivable for the jurors to conclude that Cohen came up with this on his own, that Trump was totally clueless and uninvolved?
Well, there are people who think the Earth is flat.
Weezer is riding the morning mental music stream (Trademark buried). The song is from 2005, “Perfect Situation”. The Neurons introduced it after I rhetorically inquired of myself this morning, am I insane? That dovetailed with the song’s opening lines, “What’s the deal with my brain? Why am I so obviously insane?”
Stay fresh and regularly bathe. Also, be positive and stay strong. Aaannnd, Vote Blue in 2024. I’m drinking coffee now, and it’s good going down. Yeah, baby.
Here’s the music video. Cheers
Thursday’s Theme Music
Mood: Rockstalgia
Another day has come our way, this one called Thursday, the ninth month of May.
Lots of clouds cover the Churchill Valley in PA where I’m located. Temperature has peaked at 64 F. Rain was forecasted but hasn’t shown up. Sitting on the covered back porch, listening to birds making their declarations, is a mellow, soul-clearing practice. Add a cup of hot black coffee and I feel synchronized with my existence.
I went to a concert last night. This was put on at a local high school and featured my nephew, Joey, son of my youngest little sister. He plays the trumpet. It was a jazz ensemble, and an entertaining evening. That was his last high school performance, as he graduates this month, so I was pleased to attend.
Coming out of the high school after the concert just after 8 PM, I fell in love with the softly turning indigo sky. Green grass surrounds the school. Freshly cut, the smell filled the air and carried me back. The Neurons responded by plugging a 1975 song into the morning mental music stream (Trademark suspended). “Green Grass and High Tides” by the Outlaws began last night and played a little longer this morning after I rolled out of bed. It’s a rousing southern country rock song.
Be safe and positive, remain strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has been sipped on for a few hours. Not very good stuff, but beggars, you know. Here’s the music video. Cheers
Thursday’s Wandering Thought
I’m visiting Mom, and staying at her house. I used her washer and dryer to wash my clothes this morning, informing her after the fact.
She looked at me. “You washed your clothes?”
“Yes, Mom.” I mean, wasn’t that what I just said?
Then Mom, born in 1935, just out of the hospital, asks me, her almost 68-year-old son, “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have done it for you.”
I guess as her child and only son of five children, she will always want to take care of me.
Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts
Just more first world blues, but I’m bummed out by those automatic toilets which flush while I’m still doing my business. Then, when I do finish my biz, it doesn’t flush, forcing me to search for the magic button to make it happen.
I mean, what exactly is that thing sensing when it flushes and doesn’t? Or is it just messing with me?
Apfloofrition
Apfloofrition (floofinition) – A rare or unusual appearance of an animal.
In Use: “People enjoy sharing photos and videos on Flooftube of apfloofritions, particularly cats showing up in their house, when they don’t own a cat!”
Lightning in a Box Dream
A lightning storm ruled for about an hour during the night. I listened to it. Then, when I slept, I dreamed.
I was alone somewhere, standing on a surface. Under the surface, clearly seen by me from the side via a weird dream dual perspective, were outlines of boxes. The outlines was in bold black. The boxes were white inside. Empty, was my take. They weren’t attached and were haphazardly arranged.
Although it was a clear blue sky, lightning flashed. I began thinking. With bizarre dream logic, I decided that I could catch the lightning. So, the next time it flashed, I reached up and caught the bolt, easy as grabbing a string.
Next, with dream logic, I thought I should put this lightning into a box. Then I can use its energy later.
While I thought myself right, I learned by trying that most of the boxes would not take the lightning. They weren’t large enough, or were the wrong materials, even though all were the same black outline empty white things to me.
One larger box attracted my attention. Buried in the fourth level down, I thought, that’s the perfect box, just what I need. Finding a slot in the land beneath me, I fed the lightning down into my chosen box. It took the lightning and then immediately rose one level.
I concluded, okay, catch more lightning, feed it to the box, and the box will rise to where I can grab it. Meanwhile, in the dream, I’m thinking, that’s pretty cool that I can catch lightning. I also realized, wait, instead of just ignoring the other boxes, I should re-arrange them. If I do, I can create a structure that amplifies the lightning’s power for me.
That’s what I did. As I progressed, the boxes’ black outlines changed into red, green, blue, yellow, etc. The lightning box became a brilliant white gold as it filled. The dream finished with me looking down on the box as it rose above the others and began available. I felt quite powerful and satisfied with myself, as though I’d done something to complete myself.
Michael Seidel, writer 