Floofingent

Floofingent (floofinition) – A decision or activity conditional on an animal’s mood, activity, behavior, or decision. Origins: 15th century, Middle Flooflish, borrowed from Middle Froof & Medfloofal Latin.

In Use: “Invited out for a holiday dinner, Bob hedged, telling others that his cat seemed down, so his attendance was floofingent on her.”

In Use: “Barb’s acceptance of men in her life was largely floofingent on her dogs’ reaction to the guys she brought home. If the dogs said no, the relationship was done.”

Sa’day’s Theme Music

Mood: Drowsaday

I slept in today. Three aspects drove it. One, my foot was cranky for rest, two, the night’s weather, and three, my bed was seductively warm and comfortable.

Foot/ankle continues getting better but I press to improve. That sometimes backfires. It’s a two-step, you know, step forward, step back, step forward, step back.

The night weather, though, holy stormy, Batman. Wind was busy when we went to bed. Rain was dumping. Few hours later, I awoke to distinctive moaning and a freight train sound. My youthful tornado experiences mumbled to my sleepy mind, “That sounds like tornado.” I checked the time – 5:05 – and rumbled out of bed and to the outside doors. Looking for tornado funnels, of course. In the dark. Hello.

Papi was out. That dumbfounded me. I checked his back patio condo. His usual refuge, it was disconcertinhly empty. Rain was spraying through the covered patio, because the wind was shoving it sideways. So it wasn’t the safe harbor that it normally was. Given that, I pelted back to the front door. See if Papi was cowering around there. Nope. I did some calling and whistling. No Papi. Repeated that in the back. Watched, waited, wondered.

Back to bed. The wind dropped the moan and its freigh train imitation. Serenity settled over the darkness. Whap, whap, whap. Papi’s familiar rap carried from the front door. I hustled out there to bring him in.

His fur was dry.

To end the tale, I fed Papi and returned to be ’bout 6:25. Settling in, I elevated my foot. Tucker found my hand and rested his head on it. Sleep hit me over the head. When my awareness next resurfaced, the timepiece’s digit were showing 9:45.

Pretty out there today, Saturday, December 21, 2024. Everything is wet but drying. Nothing in my vision’s field is wind-disturbed. Sunshine and a cloud-marbled blue sky rocks the valley. Temp of 46 with a few degrees left until we touch the high. That might be deceptive; I just watched an elderly-appearing guy making his way up the hill past my house. Wearing a light jacket with bare hands, he yanked the zipper up as far it would go and pulled his hands up into his jacket sleeves.

Today’s morning mental music stream (Trademark snoozing) occupant is Willie Williams with “Armagedeon Time”. Came ’bout from mind mutterings while listening to the wind and hoping the homeless and animals were all safe. But with lyrics like, “Lot of people won’t get no justice tonight” and “lots of people won’t get no supper tonight”, the song is a fitting tune to herald the coming year and concerns about GOP willingness cut up the nation’s social safety net.

BTW, this is it, shortest day of the year in the northern hemy. Take a few days but the days will cease their early sunsets and begin curving toward more hours of sunshine. Feels really needed as we end the tumultuous 2024.

Got coffee, had brekkie, and ready to boogie. Here’s the music. Merry solstice, ya’ll. Cheers

Friday’s Wandering Political Thoughts

Billionaire Musk has launched a new era of misinformation under cover of the Trump administration. Barrelling through the truth with loads of misinformation and lies, Musk has already overtaken PINO Trump as the liar in chief.

MPS offers the deets on Musk’s lies as he torpedoed the federal spending bill, forcing the Federal government to the edge of shutdown. Yes, that’s the growing power of this unelected billionare over the GOP, who worship money and greed over everything else in heaven and hell. MPS acknowledges they’re sharing their information from Axios. One big warning that should be heeded:

“The problem Congress faces,” a Trump transition source says, “is that Elon now has an army of people reviewing every word of every bill — and he’s gonna amplify the crazy sh*t in there.

Yes, that’s Musk, amplifying the crazy. Let’s all build him a rocket and shoot him off this rock before he destroys it.

Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

Jingle Jangle.

It’s a Trader Joe’s offering for the holidays. Basically, dark and milk chocolate is poured over pretzels, nuts, popcorn, caramel corn, etc. Some tiny pseudo milk-chocolate and dark-chocolate Reece’s Peanut Butter cups and faux M&Ms are thrown in.

Reading about it — a man bought fifty of the tins to give as gifts because he found it so good! — my wife thought that she would buy some for friends. But first, you know, being a good gifter, she thought we needed to try it out. We did that last night.

At first, yum. That’s good dark chocolate but what is it that it’s covering? We thoroughly tested and tasted, sampling everything. “Really sweet,” she said.

“It is really sweet,” I agreed. “I’m feeling a little sick.”

She nodded. “Me, too.”

I cut the sweetness with water and urge myself, stop eating. But the damn stuff was addicting. Finally, stomach in full rebellion against more, I ceased.

“I don’t think we’ll give that to anyone,” my wife announced. “It’s just too sweet for everyone we know.”

I agreed. Then I wondered, what are we going to do with the rest of a tin of Jingle Jangle?

I bet it goes good with coffee.

Thursday’s Wandering Political Thoughts

I checked out the Borowitz Report. Andy has created his own Project 2025. Quoting him,

The Heritage Foundation has inspired me to create my very own Project 2025—and, unlike their 900-page dystopian fever dream, mine can be summarized in one sentence:

I’m breaking up with the oligarchs.

The following billionaires have cynically chosen to throw in with Trump. Consequently, they all deserve a boycott in 2025. (Note: I’m aware that there are many other oligarchs worthy of being shunned. Consider this a starter kit.)

Andy lists Elon Musk (a natural number one in this exercise), Mark Benioff, Jeff Bezos, and Mark Zuckerberg. It’s a worthy starter kit. I laud all of his choices.

I gagged over Andy’s comments about Benioff, though. Benioff, as Time Magazine’s owner, wrote in support of Trump as the Person of the Year: “This marks a time of great promise for our nation. We look forward to working together to advance American success and prosperity for everyone.”

What a tone-deaf idiot. The divisive Trump and his merry band of billionaires are going to advance ‘success and prosperity for everyone.’

Sure. Go sell that garbage on Mars. I know many unthinking Americans bought that cheap brand of recycled cheerleading but some of us have been paying attention. In true Orwellian fashion, Benioff has redefined ‘everyone’ as wealthy, white, and male.

People, you shoulda voted blue. You’re gonna reap what you sowed. Let me tell you, it ain’t gonna be ‘success and prosperity’ for everyone.

Telephloofny

Telephloofny (floofinition) – A person who speaks to animals in conversation as if they’re having a phone conversation with them. Origins: Oregon, United States, 2024.

In Use: ‘Taylor didn’t now when she became telephloofny — was it because of her mother — maybe — but as she went through the house, dressing, eating, cleaning, she spoke with her cats, dog, birds, and fish, telling them her plans, rejoicing over a change of the weather for the better (“Sunshine and blue skies, and look at you all, already in position to enjoy it”), finishing by asking each, “Do you have any special plans for the day? Digging up a plant? Just floozing?”‘

Monday’s Wandering Political Thoughts

We’re had the person of the year and the word of the year. There’s also been the song of the year and different performers of the year, and declarations about the book of the year. But after another school shooting [1] and the 2024 election results, maybe we need the question of the year. Could be, “What led to this?” Or, “What happened?”

I vote for the more classic, quintessential question, “Why?”

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