Momentous Howdygram tweaks for the New Year.

At the moment I’m so tired I feel paralyzed. I tried to nap this morning after an early lunch — late breakfast? — of braunschweiger on low-carb pumpernickel except I kept waking up on the chaise every few minutes for no reason. Finally around 1 p.m. I decided to check my blood sugar, and sure enough ... IT WAS VERY LOW, and your brain won’t let you sleep through hypoglycemia. Which means now I’m being clobbered with a double whammy of exhaustion ... severe lack of sleep coupled with trying to rebound from a blood sugar low. Basically, I just want my maid to go home already so I can take another nap!

You don’t need any other excuse to stay home and eat braunschweiger.

I’m thirsty, hungry, sleepy and cold ... but instead of my usual mid-morning whine-o-rama this post will focus on the following putrid weather forecast for Howdygram headquarters. The only upside to disgusting weather like this is YOU DON’T NEED ANY OTHER EXCUSE TO STAY HOME AND EAT BRAUNSCHWEIGER. We’re all going to freeze to death.

Coming soon to Mesquite: World-famous gas station tacos!

It’s a few minutes past 2 a.m., Sam just went to bed and I’m here in the study with a Marcytini, a small platoon of Russell Stover sugar-free marshmallow Santas and the Howdygram. Welcome to my world. I guess you’re stuck with me.

Childhood memories, winter soup inspiration and another dead celebrity.

Let’s begin today with celebrity news, okay? Apparently German-born actress Luise Rainer has passed away at age 104 of natural causes, because when you’re 104 even a hangnail could kill you. Until today she had been the oldest living Oscar-winner who wasn’t dead yet.

Rick Perry is the Howdygram’s 2014 Putz of the Year.

Welcome, boys and girls, to the Howdygram’s first-ever Putz of the Year Award! Our honoree for 2014 will be no surprise whatsoever if you’re a regular around here, since Governor Rick “Hairdo” Perry of Texas has been our Putz of the Week more often than any other right-wing asswipe on the planet. Behold his official magazine cover!

Happy New Year. Don’t freeze your ass off.

As if I needed another reason not to leave the house, we’re expecting some genuinely repulsive winter weather around here for New Year’s. The repulsive forecast pictured below includes repulsively cold temperatures starting NewYear’s Eve, SHITTY FREEZING RAIN on New Year’s Day and even more shitty rain on January 2. Plus, as an extra bonus at no additional charge, January 3 is lookin’ mighty shitty, too. Therefore Sam and I hereby announce our firm holiday plans to STAY HOME AND EAT A LOT OF FOOD, and to help prepare for our face-stuffing adventure Sam is already on his way to Costco with a neatly-typed list of favorites. Please pray for teeny tacos. They were out of them before Christmas.

Even if I watched “Ben-Hur” a thousand times I don’t think I could ever find fault with a single minute of it.

Warmest greetings from slumberland, where your celebrated Howdygram editrix has been gloriously semi-conscious since breakfast this morning. Translation: I’M FINALLY GETTING SOME GODDAMN SLEEP. Following my weekly Sausage McMuffin I went back to bed at 9 a.m. and slept until 12:30, ate a memorable lunch from Five Guys and conked out in the family room from 1:15 until 5, successfully sleeping through Murder at the Gallop (1963) starring Margaret Rutherford, Chocolat (2000) starring Juliette Binoche and Judi Dench, and The Muppets Take Manhattan (1984) starring Gregory Hines, Joan Rivers and a pile of puppets. THIS HAS BEEN A GLORIOUS DAY, enhanced even further by my favorite weekly cold leftover hot dog still waiting for me in the family room with extra pickles. Life doesn’t get much better than this, people. It just doesn’t.

If you sleep during “Jezebel” you can wake up to Henry Fonda’s face.

Yo and how’s-the-family from the vast winter wasteland of north Texas, y’all. The temperature outside has plummeted (damn, I love that word) into the 30s, I’m achy, drippy and crabby, I have a low-grade fever, I’ve been peeing a little too frequently and — most of all — I THINK I’M FREEZING TO DEATH. My hands feel like ice and I want Sam to light the fireplace. I can’t think of anything else that would warm me up right now except pizza or a pot of homemade soup, but since it’s already after 9 p.m. and I don’t feel well enough to screw around in the kitchen, somebody please order me a pizza. Thank you in advance for your overwhelming generosity.

Saturday morning comedy: Ella and Stella pantomime “Silent Night.”

Because there’s nothing quite like musical comedy to beat those post-holiday blues, the Howdygram is pleased to offer this unforgettable video clip of twins Ella and Stella Brown pantomiming “Silent Night” as sung by Perry Como. I’m dead serious. (Note: I don’t think they’re wearing shoes.)

Every single thing I bought from Amazon this year, reviewed.

In an effort to provide my readers with the most useful Howdygram experience possible, I will now review and rate every fucking thing I purchased from Amazon in 2014. Incidentally, this list does NOT include my monthly grocery orders from Amazon Prime Pantry because I’m pretty sure nobody cares how often we order Ziploc bags, butt wipes or paper towels. (You’re welcome.) Word of caution: This is the longest post in Howdygram history.

Tomorrow is another day. We will eat again.

It should come as no surprise to anybody that sleep is restorative. The more you get, the better you should feel ... especially if you start out feeling like total shit. Christmas Day was the perfect case in point for me, as I was quite under the weather first thing in the morning but then felt progressively less repulsive after two extended naps, the first from 10:30 a.m. to 4 p.m. and the second from 4:45 to 8:30 p.m. Due to my bizarre sleep schedule, however, I didn’t have an opportunity to eat the uninterrupted shrimp prophesied in my previous post nor did Sam and I consume any part of the Costco meatloaf and mashed potatoes I’d indicated in the “Tonight’s Dinner” feature in the Howdygram’s sidebar. The disappointment has been devastating, but tomorrow, as they say, is another day. WE WILL EAT AGAIN.

Enough shrimp can cure damn near anything.

Ready for the Howdygram’s official Christmas Day Kvetch Report? My complaints du jour include all of the following: 1) severe pain in my left knee; 2) muscle weakness in my left leg; 3) burning and “electric shocks” on the soles of my feet from diabetic neuropathy; 4) plantar fasciitis in my left heel; 5) crumpled-up hands from nerve damage and arthritis; 6) a headache; 7) low body temperature; 8) nasal congestion and watery eyes; and 9) a hangnail. In light of the above I plan to limit today’s activities to sleeping, watching holiday movies and eating as many shrimp as possible.

Happy Christmas. Sam and I hope you get a ton of fantastic loot and zero fruitcakes.

It’s 4:30 in the morning and I should be in bed, so sleep is my one and only goal as soon as I finish this Howdygram post. I know you’ll understand if I keep it brief ... but first I’d like to wish you A Really Happy Christmas if you’re of the goyishe persuasion. Sam and I hope you get a ton of fantastic loot and zero fruitcakes.

We’re all just elf-loving pagans at heart, right?

I’d like to begin this post with an extra-special Christmas Eve message to our pal Gayle in Michigan, who’s stuck in bed, sick as a dog with pneumonia and barfing her way through the holidays. Sam and I hope she’ll be up and around as soon as possible so all that brand new food from Trader Joe’s won’t be a total waste.

Costco ran out of teeny tacos. This is an outrage.

Merry Almost-Christmas Eve to my loyal and goyishe Howdygram readers! Sam kicked off the festivities this morning with trips to Wal-Mart to pick up prescriptions, to the dentist to find out why the hell they’re not sending him a bill and to Costco to purchase a large volume of our favorite tasty crap, including lots of ready-to-eat Tex-Mex things, grapefruit cups and maybe muffins. Unfortunately, after a brief Face Time interlude Sam just informed me that Costco ran out of our essential teeny tacos — THIS IS AN OUTRAGE! — so he’s substituting a tub of shrimp salad and a great big meatloaf entree with mashed potatoes. I am holding down the fort at home in the meantime with help from a regiment of Russell Stover sugar-free marshmallow Santas.

Product recalls just in time for Christmas. Ho-ho-holy crap.

The Howdygram would like to alert you to a few scary product recalls just in time for your holiday gift-giving adventures. If you already have one of these gems under the tree you might want to consider Plan B, such as breakfast at Denny’s and a couple of Russell Stover marshmallow Santas.

I’d vote for a “Governor Rick Perry ’72 Dr. Pepper Machine.” Wouldn’t you?

With your permission I’d like to provide an update to a news item from my December 16 post about Texas’ Governor Rick “Hairdo” Perry, the longest-serving and most-warranted Putz of the Week in Howdygram history. Apparently the Perry-appointed regents at Texas A&M University had announced a plan to honor their most famous and divisive underachieving grifter by renaming the school’s iconic Academic Building the “Governor Rick Perry ’72 Building.”

Fuck you, North Korea.

It’s 4:45 Monday afternoon. I crawled into bed for a nap just before Sam left for work at 2:15 but only managed to sleep for 45 minutes. While this is definitely a very shitty situation, I’m pleased to announce that the excruciating pain in my left leg has finally subsided somewhat, and I’m pretty sure I’d be able to conk out successfully on the chaise in the family room if I decide to shoot for another nap before dinner. Hold a good thought, okay? I hope to be unconscious within the next half-hour.

Sam went to the post office to mail a medium-sized thing.

Yo, everybody! This will be another achy, crappy, spaced-out day for yours truly due to unrelenting knee pain and only getting two hours of sleep (barely). It’s so bad that even Russell Stover sugar-free marshmallow Santas have no appeal. I’M DOOMED. All I want to do today is eat my leftover Long John Silver’s fish whatnots from Saturday and attempt to pass out on the chaise in the family room. In case you give a crap, it’s presently 10:30 a.m. and Sam is gallavanting around town doing some Monday morning errands, which include picking up prescriptions and a trip to the post office to mail a medium-sized thing.

Merry Hamburger Day to one and all. L’chaim!

In case you don’t have any meaningful activities planned for today I’d like to make a couple of suggestions, okay? First, this is NATIONAL HAMBURGER DAY and there’s still plenty of time for an appropriate celebration involving food and napkins. Sam had mentioned picking up Five Guys for lunch except (unfortunately) it’s already 3:45 in the afternoon, I just woke up from a four-hour nap and the closest meal at this point in time would be dinner. Those of you who think I just blew an opportunity, please raise your hand.

Agreeable fish, late soup and way too many naps.

Saturday at Howdygram headquarters is always an interesting mix of sloth, gluttony, expectation, disappointment and latent creativity. Pour yourself a Marcytini and I’ll explain, okay? (Take your time. I can wait.)

Recommendations from the Howdygram’s surgeon general.

I’m pretty much at a loss to explain this, but it’s 1:45 Saturday afternoon and I just woke up from a nap with ANOTHER DAMN HYPOGLYCEMIC EPISODE. This is happening at least once a day for the last couple of weeks even though I’m injecting less insulin at night and at mealtimes to try and avoid it. MAYBE I SHOULD EAT A BUCKET OF FRENCH FRIES! (Okay, just kidding.) While I occasionally enjoy the out-of-body experience of clammy inebriation that accompanies the earlier stages of hypoglycemia, it can also be a quick and scary evolution from “low” to “diabetic coma.” At the moment I’m just “low” but should probably consider eating food before this gets any worse. My blood glucose is 56. I HATE DIABETES.

There’s always a silver lining, people.

So here I am at 6 in the morning feeling way too crappy to sleep because I can’t get comfortable in bed when my knees and legs hurt like this. To distract myself during the last several hours, therefore, I’ve been tweaking colors in my Howdygram sidebar graphics and fondling the Russell Stover sugar-free marshmallow Santas I received yesterday from my girlfriend Gayle. There’s always a silver lining, people. ALWAYS.

Hanukkah does not involve Baby Jesus in any way whatsoever.

Because nobody probably gives a crap about this except me, I’d be willing to bet you and your loved ones haven’t noticed the monumental changes I made to the Howdygram tonight. Give up? I lightened the gray text in the posts and switched to a darker shade of blue for the headlines and links. (There was no particular reason for any of this. I think I was bored.)

Low blood sugar makes me feel inebriated and I write really strange Howdygram posts this way.

Hi, people. How the hell are you? It’s 5 in the afternoon and my blood sugar is way too low again, but I figure I’ll just ride with it for a while because low blood sugar makes me feel inebriated and I write really strange Howdygram posts this way. So sit back and enjoy the show before I have to shlep into the kitchen to make dinner.

I’m having severe side effects and didn’t even know it.

It’s an altogether rotten Thursday morning here in north Texas, about 44° with drizzle, low clouds and fog. Right off the bat I think you should know that I REFUSE TO LEAVE THE HOUSE TODAY, although that’s a rather pointless declaration since I never leave the house, anyway. It’s presently 9:30 a.m. and Sam is at the dentist getting his teeth cleaned. (All of them.) For your possible interest the following map indicates: A) Howdygram headquarters; B) the dentist’s office; and C) McDonald’s at Belt Line on the I-30 service road where Sam buys my Saturday morning Sausage McMuffin.

It’s time for the latest chapter of “Sam Goes to Costco.”

I didn’t want to write another whiny middle-of-the-night Howdygram post, but what the hell ... it is what it is. My knees hurt, my feet are full of electric shocks and I haven’t been able to fall asleep even though I tried. Whenever this happens I always migrate into the study, yank a teeny bottle of Coke Zero from the mini fridge and sit at my desk so I won’t flop around in bed and annoy Sam. So that’s why I’m here in case you’re wondering. It’s 4 a.m.

Happy Hanukkah to you and yours.

First of all, Happy Hanukkah to you and yours from ABSOLUTELY EVERYBODY at Howdygram headquarters. This would include: 1) me; 2) Sam; and 3) I think that’s it. May your holiday be filled with latkes and applesauce!

Finding the cheapest gas in Texas.

Know what happens when I’m cold? THIS.

Our latest Putz of the Week is Kory Watkins, an anorexic douchebag in a combat fedora.

Yo from Howdygram headquarters, people. It’s Sunday night and I just woke up from another extended nap to write a quick post before I join Sam in the family room for popcorn and a couple of our favorite movies. The popcorn is Pop Secret; the movies are The Talk of the Town (1942) starring Jean Arthur, Cary Grant and Ronald Colman and The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer (1947) starring a whole bunch of fabulous people such as Cary Grant, Myrna Loy and Shirley Temple. I LOVE SUNDAY NIGHTS!

Do not trifle with me, people. I’m an Amazon Prime member.

It’s 6:55 Sunday morning. The house is quiet, Sam is on his way to McDonald’s to buy me a Sausage McMuffin and I’ve got A STEAMING PILE OF AMAZING NEWS to share with you! Here goes.

Senior citizens should never ignore a craving for greasy fish.

It’s 3:30 Saturday morning. I tried to go to bed at 2 with Sam but I never fell asleep because I’m feeling especially crappy right now. My current complaints include: 1) foot pain; 2) shin pain; 3) a repulsive wet rash in various locations on my body; and 4) I think that’s enough. If I get really tired at some point I might migrate to the chaise in the family room, but for now I’ll just hang out here with you. Thank you for putting up with me.

Weather.com is like a psycho middle school boyfriend who only tells you shit he thinks you want to hear.

Yo! Sam was out and about this morning with a “honey-do” list while I held down the fort here at Howdygram headquarters. Fort-holding-down demands no particular skill whatsoever and usually only requires not spilling my Marcytini, staying awake and answering the phone if anybody calls. And in case you’re interested, Sam’s errands included a drop-off at the dry cleaner, driving past the post office to mail our holiday cards and a trip to Tom Thumb for sugar-free Jell-O cups, teeny bottles of Coke Zero for the mini-fridge in the study and a juicy, ready-to-eat turkey breast (see below) on sale for $8.99. Yum, right?

A mental hospital is the perfect address for gun rights activists.

Know why I didn’t write a Howdygram post yesterday? BECAUSE I DIDN’T WANT TO. Actually, I might be lying a little. I really DID want to but I got caught up in a bunch of other baloney that included all of the following: 1) blowing off my 9:30 a.m. appointment with Dr. M due to getting zero sleep the night before and feeling like total shit; 2) designing, printing and addressing our Hanukkah and generic nondenominational unoffensive seasons greetings cards; 3) a four-hour nap directly related to item number one; 4) a late afternoon hypoglycemic episode; and 5) watching Wednesday’s recorded episode of “Top Chef,” during which Adam got eliminated for serving the judges squeaky uncooked shrimp and George rejoined the cast after a sudden death cookoff against Katie, who made a clearly lousy braised rabbit.

Rick Perry’s views on income inequality in Texas: “We don’t grapple with that here.”

It finally happened, guys. I HAD A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN TODAY. Trying to catch up after another sleepless night I was attempting my daily early afternoon nap in the family room ... and THE GODDAMN PHONE WOULDN’T STOP RINGING. There were three calls in a row less five minutes apart — all PRE-RECORDED BULLSHIT about Life Alert or senior citizen crap — until I started shrieking for Sam to disconnect the phone before I rip it out of the wall and throw it through a plate glass window. As soon as he figured out how to silence the ringer on both cordless handsets I slept until 4 p.m., uninterrupted. It was GLORIOUS.

Old age isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be, people.

Hi, guys. I’ve had a fun-filled, jam-packed day that included a juicy nap immediately following lunch with Sam, cleaning out two big cabinets in the study and ordering some fun crapola from Amazon. The fun crapola is pictured below. First, a big package of nice 24-lb. Epson inkjet paper for my new Epson inkjet printer and a package of fancy-ass foil-lined A7 envelopes to go with my holiday cards. I always make my own.

This might be an excellent moment in time for Tiger Woods to consider a few other career options.

I’m not a multi-tasker and it’s always been really hard for me to do more than one thing at a time. Such as RIGHT NOW, for instance. After Sam went to bed a couple of hours ago I had an overwhelming creative urge to horse around with the Howdygram but also thought it might be a fine time to install the new Epson WorkForce 3640 printer/scanner drivers and utility software on Sam’s iMac, which is practically the same as my iMac except a lot fewer fonts and he’s got crumbs on his keyboard. Also coffee.

My Epson WorkForce 3640 printer could be my new best friend.

It’s late Sunday night, Sam is in the family room — unconscious, probably — watching The Lemon Drop Kid (1951) starring Bob Hope and Marilyn Maxwell, one of our favorite holiday movies. Actually, I love Bob Hope in just about anything with the exception being 1956’s The Iron Petticoat co-starring Katharine Hepburn, a atrocious stab at a cold war comedy that makes Attack of the Crab Monsters look like Ben-Hur. Earlier tonight we also watched The Man Who Came to Dinner (1942) starring Bette Davis, Monty Woolley and Ann Sheridan. A large volume of popcorn accompanied these activities.

Saturday night included spectacular goyishe Christmas lights and a pleasant trip to Eatzi’s.

Here’s some huge, juicy breaking news from our Guess Which Senior Citizen Finally Hauled Her Creaky Ass Out of the House department! Sam and I actually drove into Dallas last night and looked at some spectacular goyishe Christmas lights in the Highland Park neighborhood. Here are a few samples in case you give a crap.

Cheap Epson photo paper is nothing at which to sneeze in any way whatsoever.

You might not believe this, but I never got around to writing a post yesterday because the entire day was packed with too many other compelling things to do! For instance: 1) a really wet shower with hot water; 2) lunch; 3) a three-hour nap; 4) dinner; and 5) watching Sam sleep through two fine movies. These were: White Cargo (1942), a hilariously atrocious misery festival set in 1910 on a sweaty African rubber plantation starring Walter Pidgeon, Richard Carlson and Hedy Lamarr; and Advise & Consent (1962), an Otto Preminger drama/mystery/thriller gem about bullshit in the U.S. Senate starring nearly everybody in Hollywood.

I’m having a perfect Thursday. Homemade soup and a Hayley Mills movie.

Hi, guys. It’s a dark and dismal Thursday afternoon at Howdygram headquarters with no activities of any interest whatsoever except a BIG FAT POT OF HOMEMADE SOUP. Today I made Easy Beef Leftover Thanksgiving Turkey Vegetable Soup for Senior Citizens, and I’m pleased to report there’s enough for a guest if you’d like to drop in for a few minutes with your own spoon. SOUP IS THE BEST FOOD ON EARTH not counting Russell Stover sugar-free marshmallow Santas and once in a while braunschweiger.

Our latest Putz of the Week is a right-wing Texas legislator who wants to invalidate federal laws.

It’s 1 a.m. on Wednesday morning and Sam is in bed. I’d be in bed, too, except I spent all day Tuesday unconscious in the family room. This was thoroughly pleasant but seriously unproductive, although I did spring back to life in time for dinner and a creepy old movie on DVD. We watched The Old Dark House (1932) starring Boris Karloff, Melvyn Douglas, Gloria Stuart, Raymond Massey and Charles Laughton, a weird and scary atmospheric thing directed by James Whale, who did the original Frankenstein (1931) and The Invisible Man (1933).

Glorioski and holy crap, people! Marcy bought a printer!

Hot on the heels of The Pointless Shitty Envelope Adventure of 2014 [see post] I decided a couple of hours ago to request a divorce from my four-year-old pain-in-the-ass Epson WorkForce 635 printer for failure to perform at any level whatosever. The nice white A7-size envelopes I ordered from Amazon — to replace the grainy “grocery bag” envelopes that jammed nonstop on Sunday — arrived this afternoon, and they won’t feed into this damn thing, either. Plus the entire printhead is out of alignment now and everything that actually prints is TOTALLY COCKEYED. So ... I paid a quick visit to Amazon, read a few thousand customer reviews and ordered myself a brand new Epson WorkForce 3640. GLORIOSKI AND HOLY CRAP, PEOPLE! MARCY BOUGHT A PRINTER!

Errands, seasonal appetizers and two fine actors doing comedy.

You know what sucks? When it’s 4:30 in the morning and you can’t fall asleep even though you’re so tired you can’t keep your eyes open. Like RIGHT NOW, for instance. I’m not sure why this is happening for the third night in a row, but I might decide to haul my body to the chaise in the family room any minute now because I always sleep like a rock on the chaise. (If I stop typing all of a sudden you’ll know why.) In the meantime I’ve been Googling friends from the past to amuse myself, with the unfortunate outcome that several of them are DEAD. Holy crap, right?