Let Get Flicked

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What is a Fuzzball?


  • One question I hear more than any other is What's a Fuzzball??" Allow me to explain:

    A Fuzzball is a 30-year-old fallen debutante who lives in Houston, TX with a bossy dog and an even bossier parrot who she SWEARS is the reincarnation of Napoleon Bonaparte.

    A Fuzzball prefers animals to most people, because people can really suck sometimes.

    A Fuzzball loves music, ALL music ALL of the time. If she's not listening to it, then she's singing it.

    A Fuzzball has a mad love for all things British, especially their actors.

    A Fuzzball is blissfully happy in a bookstore, preferably one with good music playing in the background. If you look under a Fuzzball's bed you'll usually find an entire library of books that she has dropped there after falling asleep reading.

    Fuzzballs are usually incurable romantics, ridiculously optimistic, and bent on making the world a happier place.

    Your typical Fuzzball will probably have a completely bizarre sense of humor. Just go with it, it will take you to funny places.

    You should also be aware that Fuzzballs are giant nerds. Seriously. Science fiction, computers, the whole shebang.

    Fuzzballs are also budding photographers. They love looking at the world through a lens and finding new ways to be creative.

    Oh...and you can also look for a Fuzzball in one of the best movies ever made. ;)

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Comments

SuzanH

Man. I MARRIED a frat guy. Although he (and his frat) were less of that stereotype than others at school. And their sport was volleyball (They had a beach volleyball court in their front yard. In Michigan.) rather than basketball.

But the uniform? I think they just had one closet full of clothes that they all shared.

Ah, memories.

Laura Jeanne

oh the memories of Fratania. of course, way back when, when the Fuzzball and I were in the college bubble, there was much less pastel. Think mid 1990's... post-Nirvana grundge, but pre-Lacoste revival.

Golden Child's prose is making me long for the days of Fratania and Sororityville, when life was much simpler. No billable hours, no obnoixious opposing counsel, no overbearing unreasonable partners.

Back in Fratania and Sororityville, the biggest stressor was finding a Frat Boy or Pledge to dig to the bottom of the trash can of ice and crappy beer to find a Keystone Light. (I mean really! I was the President of my sorority, NO WAY was I reaching my arm all the way in there nor was I drinking crap beer like Milwalkee's Best that was on top!) We spent our time debating whether it was really inappropriate to drink in our letters, and worrying about the impact of the new alcohol policies instituted on our tiny campus.

Those were the days when the Fuzzball was affectionately named "Snow White" by our dormmates for her wide-eyed observations of Fratania.

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