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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Here's some giant fuzzy-wuzzy hugs coming your way. I hope everything settles down soon.


Hey kiddo--

It seems like the older parents get, the more insane they get as well. I'm convinced it's a bad mix of hormone fluctuation, wrinkles, and retirement (or knowledge of impending retirement). All I can say is, I've been there, and playing the referee, the friend, and/or the counselor to the 'rents sucks balls.

Big Ones.



Hey, Polly--just keep doing what you need to do. It's all o.k. We're here when you're ready.


My friends rock.

anne arkham

*Big hug*

The Golden Child

if you ever want something from dad, just start and end the conversation by talking about the dog.

me: (baby voice) "ooooooo heeeeeeyyyy lucy bug! lookatha lucy dawg! HEEEEEEE come here lucy lemme give you some scratches"

dad: "go see price lucy! get him! get the boy!" (dad proceeds to slap my chest saying "boy" hoping lucy will learn my various nicknames like jack did)

me: "heeeeeee...uh dad i need 200 dollars for new shoes...heeeee! bug what're you doin??? do you know how to sit lucy???"

dad: "i'll have rachel do it tomorrow but what is it for....OF COURSE SHE KNOWS HOW TO SIT I TRAINED HER"

simple as that.


So right. So very right.

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