I hope 2016 is amazing and filled with wonderful things. (Such as lots of fresh shrimp.)

Before Sam and I get down to the business at hand on New Year’s Eve — six Thin Man movies, fresh shrimp and a bucket of cocktail sauce — I wanted to write a quick Howdygram post so you won’t think I’m dead or ignoring you.

More great new fonts with swashy stuff, curlicues, ornaments and doodads.

Hoo boy, guys ... great news: I’ve got MORE FANTASTIC NEW FONTS for you today! All of them were free downloads from BeFonts.com (my new favorite website) and some of them even include fancy extras like swashy stuff, curlicues, ornaments, doodads and lots of alternate capital letters. In case you want any or all of these for your own collection I’ll include download links after the graphic. (You’re welcome.)

A knee-slapping Christmas video from the goofballs at Sooshi Mango.

Hi. It’s me again, perky, well-rested and nestled at my desk at 5:25 in the afternoon surrounded by all of my favorite things ... the Howdygram, diet ginger ale, lots of kleenex and a bottle of prescription painkillers. It just doesn’t get much better than this, does it?

Surviving an EF-4 tornado and a siren serenade.

It’s the day after the night from hell. While the western half of Texas was slammed with a blizzard that dropped 16 inches of snow, here in the Dallas area we had 11 twisters that touched down last night in the dark, serenaded by tornado sirens screaming from every direction. The biggest one was a mile-wide EF-4 (see photo below) that missed Howdygram headquarters by only a few goddamn blocks. No kidding, people, it’s enough to make you shit your pants. I will also include a video from YouTube.

Spring rolls, fried pies and flying monkeys. It’s Saturday at Howdygram headquarters!

Good evening and howdy from “Tornado Alley” in beautiful northeast Texas! Tonight and tomorrow the Dallas metro area is expecting a fuckton of VERY SCARY WEATHER that includes severe thunderstorms, wind, hailstones, twisters, flying monkeys and up to five inches of rain. There’s really not much we can do to prepare for a hoo-hah like this aside from tying down the patio furniture and watching It’s a Wonderful Life (1947) starring Jimmy Stewart, Ward Bond and Mr. Potter with a large volume of sugar-free fried pies from Fuel City in Mesquite. Frankly, I’m goddamn excited about all this even though we presently have an actual TORNADO WARNING in effect for the next half-hour because something huge and frightening just touched down in suburban De Soto, about 15 minutes from Mesquite as the monkeys fly. There is a vast quantity of lightning and thunder and it looks like we might have to hide in the storm shelter.

The Howdygram would like to wish you and yours a very merry everything.

I thought I’d start your day with a HOWDYGRAM EXCLUSIVE ... just in case you’ve been wondering what’s underneath Donald Trump’s stupid hat.

Very presidential, Marco. You worthless twat.

It’s 4:50 a.m. and I’m waiting for a jumbo-sized dose of painkillers to kick in so I can go back to bed and get some real sleep for a change. I woke up about 40 minutes ago for my middle-of-the-night senior citizen bathroom adventure and realized I was also in AGONIZING PAIN from my shitty joints, shitty swollen and sensitive legs (I have cellulitis) and the shitty sores on the back of my thighs. The following Shit-O-Meter report illustrates my point.

We’re a pair of latke-lovers who don’t celebrate Christmas.

Happy Wednesday night to you and yours. It’s already December 23 — mark your calendar! — and only two days until Christmas just in case you’re a doofus who hasn’t bought any presents yet. Sam and I have no worries whatsoever in this department because: 1) Santa sucks; 2) we don’t drown things with tinsel; 3) we don’t buy presents for goyim; and 4) we’re a pair of latke-lovers who don’t celebrate Christmas. GET OVER IT ALREADY!

I need pain meds, a nap, my chaise lounge, a good movie and the ceiling fan.

Let’s catch up a little, okay? I’ve got two really important things to share with you tonight.

Jeb Bush is happy that his campaign is circling the drain. Because now for sure he’ll get to be President.

Good morning, shalom, howdy-do and what’s cookin’ from your friends at Howdygram headquarters! It’s almost 10 p.m. and I’ve been busy tonight mostly browsing for new fonts — oy, I’m so goddamn addicted! — in addition to eating a tasty little instant mashed potato cup, taking a variety of drugs and participating in my monthly Clots “R” Us do-it-yourself blood clot clinic.

That’ll do, pig. That’ll do.

Some days start off a lot better than others. This morning, for instance, I woke up at 5:15 with a headache, low blood sugar and intense pain from those disgusting pressure ulcers on the back of my thighs. However life began to improve as soon as I hauled myself into the study for a teeny tub of Idahoan instant mashed potatoes, a can of diet ginger ale and an abundance of prescription painkillers ... after which I discovered a new website — BeFonts.com — packed with thousands of amazing TOTALLY FREE FONTS that I’ve never seen before. For a retired graphic designer like yours truly who’s also disabled and housebound, fonts are the best distraction on earth not counting William Powell movies ... and there’s no such thing as too many!

Name-calling is escalating at the GOP kindergarten.

Know what? Aside from a four-hour nap after lunch I’ve been tweaking the Howdygram non-stop since 7:45 this morning! My latest round of changes includes exciting new sidebar graphics and the return of an old favorite (Pee Wee Herman), slightly smaller sidebar titles, a new copyright graphic, a whole new tagline and an updated “the” for the Howdygram’s banner. All are illustrated below for your possible interest. Thank you for giving a crap about this.

I never leave the house, I don’t have any friends and I don’t drink. Hell, I don’t even wear shoes.

It’s 9:30 p.m. and I’ve got 90 minutes to spend with you if I want to finish this Howdygram post before Sam gets home from work. I’m up to the challenge. I’ve got a nice hot cup of Wal-Mart tea and a full bottle of Norco. God bless drugs.

A great big “howdy” to you and yours. Please wipe your feet and stay awhile.

To be perfectly honest with you I wasn’t planning to write a Howdygram post today because I’ve been a sloth since 11 a.m. and haven’t felt much like doing anything except sleep, design a belated birthday card for my brother-in-law David and eat things. Now that I’ve accomplished all three goals with astounding success I figure why not give typing a shot as well, so here I am. A great big “howdy” to you and yours. Please wipe your feet and stay awhile.

The Great December Pee-Pee Incident and other Wednesday night distractions.

Yup, it’s me again, but this time I have no yooge news stories, no major health issues to report, no pressing political bullshit, no shopping adventures — not counting a cool new font that I actually paid real money for — and no pictures to share. In other words, this Howdygram post is about ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. I am the Jerry Seinfeld of bloggers!

Donald Trump and Canadian Ted Cruz have the most punchable faces in the GOP.

Something is seriously wrong with me this afternoon. I’m at my desk in the study, extremely thirsty, drifting in and out of consciousness, nodding off, knocking my cordless mouse on the floor three times and fantasizing about going to bed for a long nap. However an even better place would be the chaise in the family room because at least I could enjoy one of my favorite sleeping movies, such as The Rains Came (1939) starring Myrna Loy, George Brent and Tyrone Power or The Kennel Murder Case (1933) starring William Powell and Mary Astor. I have a large variety of excellent sleeping movies stored on our DVR. I highly recommend this. Please let me know if you’d like a list of my movie suggestions, okay?

Morans with cardboard guns and victims drizzled with ketchup. Introducing the Austin Massacre of 2015.

There’s exciting news this morning from Howdygram headquarters. I just made my first-ever reservation on Mesquite’s senior citizen transit service! Now I can ride to my doctor appointment next Tuesday in a fancy little bus with an elevator and stay in my huge new bariatric wheelchair, and Sam won’t have to rupture any vital organs trying to maneuver it — and me — in and out of our car. Be sure to check back with us afterwards for a full report, okay?

You don’t have to be a clever senior citizen with marginal math skills to recognize a good deal!

It’s Monday night here in north Texas and your favorite blogger is MULTI-TASKING. I’m typing a Howdygram post, eating a bag of Mountain House freeze-dried Rice & Chicken for old women with disabilities and brewing a pleasant mug of Wal-Mart tea ... ALL AT THE SAME TIME! In case you’re interested, Wal-Mart tea is exactly the same as Lipton tea except a lot cheaper. Lipton sells 50 tea bags for $3.48. That’s 7¢ per bag. If you go with Wal-Mart’s Great Value store brand you’ll get 100 tea bags for $2 ... or 2¢ per bag. You don’t have to be a clever senior citizen with marginal math skills to recognize a good deal!

There’s another Republican playground brawl coming up this week.

Our big rain hoo-hah ended this morning before sun-up, having dumped nearly 2.75 inches on the Dallas metro area in about four hours with plenty of wind but no storms or hailstones. Mostly we slept through it all except for one particular episode around 3:30 a.m. when it got so fucking windy I thought our solar screens would get sucked off the house. They survived, and now we’re looking at a week of mild and sunny mid-December weather that should make most of the United States jealous unless you live in Florida or southern California. The following screen shot forecast from Weather.com proves my point.

Republican leadership wants to launch a secret “draft Romney” campaign at the 2016 GOP convention.

You may be interested to know that I’ve just survived a weird and frequently shitty Saturday during which the good and the bad included: 1) intense pain; 2) two exquisite four-hour naps to distract me from item number one; 3) a box full of Fuel City tacos for lunch with hot sauce and a sugar-free fried pineapple pie; 4) sleeping through two episodes of “Columbo”; and 5) I can’t think of anything else. It’s presently 11 p.m. and I’m considering a very late dinner because there’s a big thunderstorm coming and my stomach is making unintelligible noises. Lobster ramen and Voortman’s sugar-free Almonettes come to mind. Please let me know within the next 15 minutes if you’d like to join me. An email will suffice. Thank you.

Saturday in Texas. Thunderstorms, torrential rain, maybe a tornado and spotty hailstones.

Happy early Saturday morning from Howdygram headquarters, where I’ve got a cup of water nuking in my teeny new desktop microwave and a fuckton of exciting news to share with anybody who gives a crap. Do you give a crap?

Paste-eating cretins in Texas plan a mass shooting demo with cardboard weapons.

Today is officially upside-down and completely fucked up, and I’m afraid it’s all Sam’s fault. He had a two-hour 9 a.m. dental shootout this morning at the Sunnyvale Not O.K. Dental Corral, and as soon as he left I was feeling moderately crappy due to pain and parked myself on the chaise in front of the TV, at which time I immediately fell asleep. As in COMPLETELY UNCONSCIOUS. I remember nothing whatsoever until Sam wakes me at 1:30 to ask if I need any lunch, meds or injections before he goes to work.  

Whether you’re planning to dress a gunshot wound or just play “mummy,” gauze bandages are a thoughtful gift.

Eureka, people, last night I finally discovered what’s the number one STRONGEST PAINKILLER IN THE WORLD. And it’s free, it doesn’t have any side effects like unwanted hair growth or diarrhea, you don’t need a prescription and there’s no such thing as an overdose. Give up?

If at first you don’t secede, try, try again!

So here’s the scoop. On Saturday a cotillion of right-wing yahoos in the Texas legislature failed to pass a measure that would have asked voters to decide whether or not the Lone Star State should secede from the rest of the U.S.A. According to the bill’s sponsor, voters would have been faced with a non-binding “yes” or “no” survey question on the upcoming March ballot. The proposal had been a hot debate among members of the state’s Republican party, which is run by assholes that spew some extremely scary shit.

Strange holiday gift ideas from the weirdos at Wayfair.

So what’s the big news from Howdygram headquarters? It’s 11:52 p.m. on the first night of Hanukkah, and in lieu of latkes I’m humming a rousing chorus of “Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel” and eating an Idahoan instant mashed potato cup. (Shut up. It’s the best I can do.) Here’s wishing y’all a happy, happy Hanukkah from Sam and me and the entire staff of Howdygram headquarters. (Okay, both of us.)

You can never have too many cold meat forks!

I frequently whine about my pain issues in the Howdygram. It’s unavoidable; there are days when pain completely takes over my life and I can’t focus on anything else except once in a while Cheetos. Last night, however, my misery hit a repulsive new “high” and included all of the following shit: 1) plantar fasciitis in both heels made it fucking impossible to stand up; 2) stabbing pain in both knees; 3) an ache in my right hip; 4) broken and bleeding skin (from pressure ulcers) on the back of both thighs; 5) difficulty breathing; 6) watery eyes; 7) a cramp in my right shoulder and upper arm; and 8) intestinal difficulties bordering on a nuclear holocaust. As a result this was my official Shit-O-Meter reading when I dragged myself to bed last night at 11:30. (Regular Howdygram readers will know that was unusually early for me but I was too damn miserable to stay awake.)

FedEx just delivered my goddamn wheelchair.

You’ll have to bear with me for a while. I’m busy eating three amazing fried pies from The Original Fried Pie Shop, a featured vendor at Mesquite’s newest designer truck stop and food mall, Fuel City. A couple of hours ago Sam did a drive-by at Fuel City and came home with a box of tacos and three sugar-free fried pies, which we’ve been stuffing relentlessly into our mouth holes without coming up for air. This seems like an appropriate activity while we wait for FedEx Freight to deliver my Drive Medical Sentra Extra-Wide Bariatric Wheelchair for Big Butts. Please pass the napkins.

Fried pies are a Texas culinary tradition.

Hi, y’all, from the Howdygram headquarters nerve center! It’s 2:15 a.m., Sam’s in bed and I’ve got a swell middle-of-the-night cup of Lipton tea heating up in my tiny new microwave. I have the best-equipped study in Texas, people, I swear to God. This room has EVERYTHING.

Everything’s bigger in Texas ... especially the douchebag that runs our state.

It’s 8:30 a.m. and Sam just went back to bed. He’s on vacation this week and can do whatever the hell he wants, whenever the hell he wants to do it, and this seemed like a perfect opportunity to grab another hour or two of sleep. I could use more, too, come to think of it, but I think I’ll take my nap in the family room because I’m still having an ongoing affair with a chaise lounge from Macy’s, pictured below for your possible interest.

What everybody wants for holiday gift-giving. Overpriced light fixtures!

It’s 4:55 p.m. and Sam is unconscious in the family room after a hectic day that included a hot shower and a muffin. I can’t actually 100% verify that second activity, however, because I was in bed attempting to recover after Sam applied TriDerma Intense Fast-Healing Cream to the back of my thighs and it burned like hell for about 20 minutes. For those of you who’ve been following along with my ongoing “skin issues” ... I have pressure ulcers. FUCK PRESSURE ULCERS! I won’t go into too much detail here in case somebody’s eating breakfast. (You’re welcome.)

Einsteins walk among us.

I rarely (if ever) begin a Howdygram post with a sentence like this, so brace yourself: MONDAY WAS A DAY FROM THE PIT OF HELL, peppered with the misdeeds of Einsteins far and wide. Here’s the complete rundown in neat, subtitled paragraphs. I will attempt to type and consume an Idahoan instant mashed potato cup simultaneously because it’s never too early to practice for the senior citizen Olympics.

My doctors are letting me down and I’m not happy.

Shalom to you and yours from my happy little corner of Texas, where four days of relentless rain have turned our region into a gigantic, never-ending auto showroom of submerged vehicles, all driven by yahoos who didn’t realize their freeway underpass was actually 10 feet under water. A smattering of representative photographs appears below for your possible interest. Bottom line: IT’S EXTREMELY WET HERE.

Holy shit. Gino’s East pizza!

I wasn’t really planning to write another middle-of-the-night Howdygram post but my joints are killing me, I’m totally wide awake and there’s nothing else to do ... so what the hell, it’s your lucky day!

Yup, it’s still raining here.

It’s 11 p.m. on a really wet Friday night, and here are the top stories from Howdygram headquarters!

To the rescue: Marcy’s World-Famous Senior Citizen Thanksgiving Bowl.

So it’s 1:15 a.m. on the day after Thanksgiving — known to Americans far and wide as BLACK FUCKING FRIDAY — and I’m here to provide a complete rundown of my favorite food-centric holiday in real words. First, however, you should know that it’s been pouring here since mid-afternoon yesterday and the current map from Weather.com clearly illustrates what’s what right now. The yellow and orange thunderstorms are moving due east in the general direction of that teeny red star, which denotes Howdygram headquarters along with an actual photograph. The big hoo-hah will begin here in about 15 minutes.

Yee-haw! It’s Thanksgiving!

Good morning, how’s the family and HAPPY THANKSGIVING from your friends at Howdygram headquarters! While Sam and I wait impatiently for our turkey pick-up time at Boston Market, I will use this opportunity to announce that a shitload of rain is heading our way — four whole days of it — kicking off the festivities with a line of thunderstorms around 3:30 this afternoon. And the entire Dallas metro area is already under a Flood Watch due to our pathetic creeks spill over their banks even if somebody just spits at them.

I’ll just have to continue gasping, fainting and farting until I can reach my cardiologist.

Happy day-before-Thanksgiving to you and yours! I’d be interested to know how you celebrate this holiday, such as what are your favorite things to eat, do you cook, are you alone, are you wearing underwear and what’s for dessert. Thank you. Here at Howdygram headquarters we observe Sam & Marcy’s Annual Untraditional Thanksgiving Hoo-hah with an overpriced heat & serve turkey dinner for six from Boston Market — a nice easy-to-carve turkey breast, stuffing with fetal vegetables, mashed potatoes, tan gravy and a sack of gentile dinner rolls — followed by an undetermined number of William Powell and Myrna Loy movies while wearing bathrobes. If you think this sounds goddamn wonderful, you’d be right!

Don’t tell Sam that my new wheelchair is being delivered tomorrow on a 104-pound pallet.

There’s something seriously wrong with me today because my brain is fogged-in. After taking my 8 a.m. dose of Norco I’m slurring my words, I can’t hold a thought, I want to take a nice hot shower but I’m not sure I can walk all the way to the master bathroom, the toes on my right foot are numb and I want a couple of Schwan’s corn dogs for breakfast. I can’t explain any of this but thank you for paying attention.

I’m a goddamn mess. But I’m a happy goddamn mess.

It’s Monday, people, and I’m deliriously happy to start a fresh new week at Howdygram headquarters ... mostly because I can’t believe I survived a thoroughly miserable pain-filled Sunday during which I limped, moaned, kvetched, cried, shlepped and whined while consuming as many prescription painkillers as possible. GOD BLESS DRUGS. And although I swore to Sam I was feeling much better today, the truth is I’m only feeling somewhat better. The skin on the back of my thighs is hyper-sensitive and bleeding, my heels are killing me and my knees are stiff as a board. I’M A GODDAMN MESS. But I’m a happy goddamn mess. Here’s my most up-to-date Shit-O-Meter reading for your possible interest.

Instant Rice-A-Roni is an unappealing cup of tasteless, floating carbohydrates.

Shalom, yo, how’s the family and happy Saturday night from your friends at Howdygram headquarters! Sam is asleep in the family room watching Stagecoach (1939) starring John Wayne and I’m at my desk in the study trying to decide on something tasty to rehydrate for dinner because the cold leftover Five Guys hot dog that’s been relaxing on the coffee table since 1:45 this afternoon is NOT going to be enough food even with extra onions. (That was the goddamn weirdest lede I’ve ever written. Seriously.)

Fuck shoes and fuck brassieres.

Y’all will be pleased to know I’m feeling greatly improved today, which is very good news (for me, at least) and an encouraging sign as we head into another lovely north Texas autumn weekend ... even though I never leave the house, which would involve wearing shoes and a brassiere. FUCK SHOES AND FUCK BRASSIERES. Thank you.

All of a sudden the Howdygram is intensely popular in India. I have no idea why.

This has been a day of phenomenal accomplishments despite feeling pretty much like TOTAL SHIT since Sam left for work this afternoon. Today’s whine list includes all of the following.

For Republicans, Syrian refugees are the “new Ebola.”

I am so fucking sick of the bat-shit crazy Republicans that I’ve decided to try and write a news-free Howdygram post today, in protest. What’s causing today’s misery? A few headlines have included: 1) Turd Cruz challenging the president of the United States to a fight on American soil because Turd feels insulted; 2) Republicans want to turn away all Syrian refugees, conveniently forgetting that American bigots did the same thing to Jews fleeing the Nazis before World War II, resulting in six million deaths in concentration camps; and 3) ill-informed jackass Chris Christie tells CNN he refuses to believe that the Paris terrorists were European nationals and not Syrian refugees — which has already been proven — and blames President Obama because he didn’t set up a Syrian “no-fly zone,” even though ISIS doesn’t have an air force.

Donald Trump the real estate genius has just reinvented concentration camps.

Hi, people. I hope your day is swell so far. It’s 10 a.m., Sam is at Wal-Mart buying assorted tasty crap from a list and I’m hanging out with you and the Howdygram. Also drinking a can of Diet Sunkist soda because sometimes a girl needs faux vitamin C.

Amazon really fucked me up today.

Know what I love even more than a three-hour afternoon nap? THIS: Writing a post for the Howdygram. It’s therapeutic, creative, soul-cleansing and excellent goddam entertainment for you and the family, providing you’re all over the age of 17 and don’t mind a few swear words and left-wing political commentary. You get my drift.

Has your wee-wee ever looked like bayou sludge with alligators in it?

BIG FAT NEWS FLASH FOR EVERYBODY: It’s 2:30 Monday morning and I have another Shitty Mystery Fever! I woke up about an hour ago after a brief nap in the family room and BLAMMO ... I was shivering, I had body aches, my joints hurt like hell and I smashed a toe on the corner of our coffee table. (The smashed-toe incident has nothing whatsoever to do with a low-grade fever but I thought I’d throw it in because PAIN.) To cheer myself up I’ve decided to sit here at my desk in the study and entertain you for a while, okay?

The time Elizabeth Taylor and Rock Hudson scared me to death in the family room.

I woke up this morning after insufficient sleep and had no idea what day it was. NO FUCKING IDEA. For a few minutes this was maybe the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me, even scarier than the time I was asleep on the couch and woke up watching Giant — the scene where Jett Rink (James Dean) in old-man makeup gets so drunk at his own testimonial banquet that everybody walks out and leaves him alone to throw chairs and chew the scenery — and five of his guests (Elizabeth Taylor, Rock Hudson, Carol Baker, Chill Wills and Jane Withers) peek their faces through the door to see what the fuck is going on. I woke up from a nap with that “peeking” scene on the TV screen and hallucinated they were all peeking into the family room at ME. I started shrieking “GO AWAY!” until I realized I was freaking out at Rock Hudson and still half-asleep. Whoa.

I design all of the Howdygram’s graphics myself because I’m annoyingly creative.

Happy Saturday from Texas, guys. It’s 9:45 a.m., I’m on my second cup of tea, Sam is still asleep, and I want to share the following graphic because I’m so sick of the violence and misery I just want to PUKE already.

Please try not to eat any broken plastic if you can help it. And while you’re at it, try not to eat SpaghettiOs, either.

Good evening from Texas! The time at the tone — beep! — is 6:50 p.m., the temperature outside is a pleasant 56°, and dinner — a bag of Mountain House freeze-dried Noodles & Chicken for senior citizens — is rehydrating on my desk. While I wait for my food I’ve got several important things to cover in this post. One or two are deadly serious, others are mostly retarded bullshit. So let’s get started, shall we?

Runaway cows invade Mesquite, Texas.

Holy cow, people — and I mean this literally — I’ve got TWO HUGE AND JUICY NEWS STORIES for you today, and neither of them have anything whatsoever to do with Republicans for a change.

I want a nice hot meal once in a while without pestering other people.

It’s 3 a.m. and I’m in the study rehydrating a bag of Mountain House freeze-dried Biscuits & Gravy for senior citizens because I’M STARVING TO DEATH and this is the blandest food I can eat at this ridiculous hour and still go to bed afterwards without belching myself into the next county. I’m waiting for Sam to get home from work. He’ll probably be here by 4:30 if I can stay awake that long. We’ll see.

I don’t think I should be deprived of Sam’s feet more than two nights in a row.

Well, fuckity fuckity fuck! It’s 7:45 Wednesday night and Sam just called to let me know he’ll be at work again for the third night in a row until 4 o’clock in the morning. I HATE THIS. I want Sam to come home right now to eat snacks, watch a couple of William Powell movies and get some decent sleep. As for moi, I JUST WANT TO PLAY WITH SAM’S FEET. I don’t think that’s too much to ask, do you? I’m a desperate senior citizen with health issues and I don’t think I should be deprived of Sam’s feet more than two nights in a row.

Happy holidays, goddamn it.

Good morning and HAVE A REALLY HAPPY VETERANS DAY to all of you camo-lovers out there in Howdygramland! The only real military veteran I ever knew close-up was my father, who served in World War II. Here he is — looking very adorable at age 23 — in London in 1943 as a lieutenant navigator for the Army Air Corps.

Does Starbucks really hate Jesus, or are they just anti-reindeer?

It’s Tuesday evening here at Howdygram headquarters and I’ve been avoiding tonight’s GOP clown car debate due to the high risk of nausea if I have to listen to those shitbags again. Instead I’ve decided to write a nice post, answer a couple of emails and finish eating what’s left of a one-pound bag of Sweets & Beets® that Sam bought a few days ago at Costco. As the name implies these are sweet potato and beet chips (seriously), unsalted, colorful, very crunchy and mostly void of flavor. I could live without them but there’s nothing else to eat right now. What the fuck, right?

Jeb Bush admits that all lives don’t matter. He would gladly kill Baby Hitler in his crib.

I’ll begin this Howdygram post by showing off my BRAND NEW FREE FONTS, all downloaded this morning from a few of my favorite websites. If you want any or all of ’em for your own personal collection I’ll include links below the graphic so you can download them. Incidentally, a few of these fonts include multiple styles (especially Rubik and Milasian Circa), lots of alternate letters and other fancy-schmancy features. Check them out, okay? I LIVE FOR SHIT LIKE THIS. As a retired graphic designer the focus of my golden years involves creating terrific birthday and Hanukkah cards for my friends and relatives, so I still feel compelled to continue expanding my font collection because CREATIVITY. Get it?

Marcy the Movie Maven recommends ...

Hi, people. Before I forget, please allow Marcy the Movie Maven to recommend a bunch of terrific films this week because TCM is offering tributes to Edna May Oliver (November 9) and William Powell and Myrna Loy (November 10) in addition to a few good Norma Shearer whatnots from the early 1930s (also November 10). Ready, set ... RECORD!

Check out The Ben Carson Shrine to Psychotic Neurosurgeons Who Want to Rule the World.

Good morning, dear readers ... happy Sunday, shalom, what’s new and how’s the family! It’s a cool fall morning here at Howdygram headquarters, and I’m considering a nice toasted low-carb “everything” bagel for breakfast for the following three reasons: 1) I’m hungry; 2) I really like bagels; and 3) you can’t stop me. It’s only 5:57 a.m., however, so I’ll have to wait until Sam wakes up because I’m a senior citizen with mobility difficulties and can’t stand up in the kitchen long enough to tackle the various components of simple food preparation. Seriously.

I just bought myself new transportation due to unplanned ass expansion.

This is the biggest hoo-hah EVER, people! Sam let me buy my own belated birthday present today ... a brand new “SENTRA” BARIATRIC WHEELCHAIR by the wonderful people at Drive Medical who know how to build fancy transportation for large handicapped senior citizens! I ordered it this afternoon from Amazon and delivery is expected sometime next week. A nicely-detailed diagram appears below for your possible interest.

My favorite book: “Touch Typing in Two Weeks for Creative Young Children with Irritating Mothers.”

After eight years in the “blogging business” I honestly don’t know what I love most about the Howdygram — typing it, composing it, designing it or creating really cute always-changing shit for the right sidebar. Believe it or not, I’ve been producing weird crap in one form or another for other people to read — i.e., illustrated homemade magazines, comic books, short stories, newsletters and an early draft of a book: “Memoir of an Escaped Dental Patient” — ever since dad gave me a Smith-Corona manual typewriter for my seventh birthday with a typewriter case, two ribbons and a how-to manual titled “Touch Typing in Two Weeks for Creative Young Children with Irritating Mothers.” It was cheaper (and probably more effective) than therapy.

Y’all hold a good thought for us. These clowns are the Lone Star State’s future legislators.

Hello, friends. It’s 8 p.m. Wednesday night and I’m parked at my desk in the study pondering what I should do next. I can continue typing, which is always a favorite fun activity for me, or I can haul myself into our luxurious remodeled shower, shpritz myself with soap and water for half an hour and emerge smelling EXCELLENT. Door number two sounds like my best bet since smelling excellent is always an attainable goal for senior citizens.

“Mr. Peepers” has ended his presidential campaign.

If you thought I wasn’t going to write Howdygram post today you’d be dead wrong, obviously, because here I am at my desk in the study with a can of diet ginger ale, writing today’s post! If you want to know why it’s taken me all day to get around to this, we can blame it on the chaise lounge (pictured below) in our family room. I fell asleep at 3:15 this afternoon and woke up at 7:45. Oy, right?

At last ... a public service announcement that doesn’t involve E. coli, salmonella or Listeriosis!

Yesterday was my 64th birthday. Therefore:

Happy birthday to me, 

Happy birthday to me, 

Happy birthday dear mee-eee,

Happy birthday to me!

Look out for low-flying skull-shaped asteroids.

I’ll open this post with the usual bullshit: MARCY’S WHINE LIST. After spending nearly all day asleep on the chaise in the family room — from 10:30 a.m. when Sam left to retrieve two prescriptions at Wal-Mart until 4:45 this afternoon — I eventually woke up with an exploding bladder, a pounding headache, low blood sugar and stiff as a board due to missing three doses of pain medication. Now that I’m conscious and upright I’d like to add these additional complaints to the aforementioned list: 1) the hypersensitive skin on the back of my thighs is raw and bleeding again; 2) my low-grade fever is creeping back up; and 3) I just yanked a hangnail.

Fuck Halloween.

Good morning, how’s the family and “boo” from Howdygram headquarters. It’s Saturday, October 31 — Halloween — my least favorite day of the year because this is such a goddamn stupid holiday whenever it involves anybody over the age of 11. Yesterday, for instance, Sam went to the dentist to have a molar extracted and the dentist and all of his office staff WERE WEARING HALLOWEEN COSTUMES. He said Dr. Villarreal, who’s about 27 years old, was dressed as one of the Mario Brothers. And as Sam was leaving the receptionist actually asked him what he was “going as” for Halloween.

Campbell’s Bean with Bacon soup is one of the major joys of life. Try it.

Hello from the bowels of Howdygram headquarters, where I’ve been sick for TWO WHOLE DAYS with a raging fever. Mostly I’ve been drifting between the bathroom, bed, my desk in the study and the chaise in the family room ... whining, bitching, moaning, shivering and being altogether NOT VERY HAPPY. I don’t have an appetite but it’s almost 7:30 p.m. and I’m thinking I’d better rehydrate a Mountain House freeze-dried entree for senior citizens just to keep my blood sugar stable.

I’m loaded with fever germs today so why don’t you just drop off a big bag of snacks at the front door.

I hope Thursday is starting off better for YOU than for ME, because I’ve still got that fever hoo-hah going on. It was 101.2° when I woke up this morning at 4:45 to pish, and even though it’s down a little now I still feel like TOTAL CRAP. Other symptoms include no appetite, watery eyes and an overwhelming desire to watch my favorite David Niven movies, which is a good thing because I’ve got several to choose from on our DVR. These include Bachelor Mother (1939) with Ginger Rogers, Please Don’t Eat the Daisies (1960) with Doris Day and Around the World in 80 Days (1956). I’d invite you to come over and watch with me, but I’m loaded with fever germs today so why don’t you just drop off a big bag of snacks at the front door and we’ll call it a day.

Will somebody please email me a bowl of hot chicken noodle soup and a coloring book with 48 crayons.

Oy, people, I feel so goddamn lousy right now I don’t think I can type! I woke up from an afternoon nap about 20 minutes ago with every joint in my body completely locked-up and screaming in pain, I’m running a substantial fever — no kidding, 100.8° is very high for me because “normal” is 97° — I have zero appetite and I feel so limp I want to CRY. I don’t know what I want to do right now aside from binge-drinking hot tea and popping large doses of Norco. Once the meds kick in I’m considering suicide a nice hot shower, maybe shaving my pits and another nap.

Be sure to tune in to tonight’s clown car debates for comedy gold. It doesn’t get much better than this.

It’s 8 o’clock Wednesday morning. While I wait for Sam to nuke my breakfast — a juicy Schwan’s Sausage, Egg & Cheese biscuit on a paper plate — I’m parked at my desk in the study nursing on a can of Diet Sunkist while I program two weeks of fabulous movies to record on our DVR. (Programming your DVR online is one of the best features of AT&T U-Verse.) A few of my selections include ...

This is your last chance to send me a present for my birthday.

This is it, people ... THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO SEND ME A PRESENT FOR MY BIRTHDAY, which is November 1. You’ve got four stinking days left to find a way to put a smile on an old lady’s face. Please review Marcy’s Birthday Wish List and send an email if you need my shipping address. Thank you in advance for your overwhelming generosity.

Gift ideas just in time for Hanukkah.

Greetings and salutations, Howdygramsters! While I sit here digesting a bag of Mountain House freeze-dried entrees for senior citizens and pondering the next phase of my Monday evening activities — a hot shower, cookies and a nap come to mind — I thought I’d produce my second post of the day and kill a little time. You’re welcome.

An ode to drugs, “Columbo,” frozen food and Sam. (Not necessarily in that order.)

There are a million things wrong with me tonight, and that’s a conservative estimate. They include: 1) severe joint pain due to not taking my meds five hours ago while I was asleep in the family room watching “Columbo” DVDs; 2) a persistent low-grade fever; 3) pain in my left heel; 4) chills, body aches, a nasty rash and a relentless yet aggravating urge to pish, all the result of item number two; 5) a dull headache; and 6) shortness of breath. Put them all together and you get FUCK THIS SHIT!

Jeb Bush is uninspired, rude, deflated and demented with a shitload of entitled privilege.

Happy Sunday morning to you and yours from the crew at Howdygram headquarters! Sam is driving around town doing errands and I’m holding down the proverbial fort with a can of Diet Sunkist. As soon as my latest round of pain meds kick in I’m planning on a nice hot shower to try to rinse off yesterday’s Miserable Day of Illness and Agony during which my Shit-O-Meter reading hit the number 10 mark more than once. My complaints included: 1) severe joint pain due to heavy thunderstorms and an approaching cold front; 2) a low-grade fever; 3) a rash; 4) gas pains; 5) a headache; 6) nausea; and 7) I can’t think of anything else. Plus Sam dropped a wad of brown gravy on the family room carpet. My day was hell.

Welcome to Stormageddon.

Because I’ve received so many emails and inquiries from Howdygram readers today I’ve decided to write a weather-related post due to the intense Stormageddon that’s going on around here. For starters, our freakishly wet weekend began last night around 10 p.m., pummeling us with noisy and powerful thunderstorms all night long as well as all day today. So far we’ve had almost five inches of rain at Howdygram headquarters in Mesquite ... and we’re just getting started! Here’s a screen shot of the rainfall totals from WFAA-TV here in Dallas as of 5 p.m. Friday afternoon. (FYI, “Dallas Love” refers to Love Field Airport.)

Yesterday’s Benghazi comedy was an 11-hour commercial showcasing Hillary Clinton’s presidential qualifications.

Hi, kids. What’s shakin’ at YOUR house today? I’m rehydrating a bag of Mountain House freeze-dried Scrambled Eggs with Ham & Peppers — the perfect protein-rich breakfast for senior citizens with mobility issues! — while Sam and I enjoy Friday morning thunderstorms with lots of really swell and welcome rainfall.

Wonderful fluffy shit from HSN, just in time for all your Hanukkah shopping!

Once upon a time Sam went to Costco and I stayed home with a bucket of unfolded socks and underpants. (That has to be the best lede sentence I’ve ever written.) In case you’re wondering why I stay home, Sam always goes to Costco alone for the following excellent reasons: 1) it’s faster and cheaper without me; and 2) I’ve got a variety of mobility impairments that make shlepping and shopping difficult, annoying and uncomfortable. Our shopping list today includes chicken flautas, teeny tacos, spicy guacamole cups, Cape Cod chicken salad with smashed cranberries, sliced roast beef for sandwiches, grapefruit cups, and a box of frozen Angus pre-cooked hamburger patties with genuine grill marks.

Introducing Rootin’-Tootin’ Sam’s Wild West Toenail Clinic.

I feel compelled to write a second Howdygram post today due to very juicy incoming weather for the weekend and the pending launch of our exciting new Rootin’-Tootin’ Sam’s Wild West Toenail Clinic. There’s so much news I can hardly stand it!

I can’t believe nobody ever complained about three bimbos bathing in Hooterville’s water supply.

I’ve got millions of things to tell you today, people. MILLIONS! It’s enough to make a blogger’s brain explode with excitement! (Not really. Occasionally I lean towards hyperbole.) But I’ll begin my post with today’s Shit-O-Meter reading because the news is pretty damn good. This is due to two extended and unexpected naps on Tuesday and six hours of uninterrupted sleep overnight.

Hey there, gullible shoppers, Hayneedle is having a “yooge” dining room sale!

Good morning, hi, howdy-do, shalom and how’s the family! I’m deliriously thrilled to report that summer might finally be over here in north Texas, as evidenced by the decidedly non-summery forecast from the meteorology goobers at Weather.com.

Mazel tov. Caitlyn Jenner has morphed into an elderly, self-absorbed Kardashian.

It’s 2:30 Monday afternoon, Sam is on his way to work and I’ve got a bag of Mountain House Noodles & Chicken for hungry senior citizens rehydrating on my desk here in the study. Sam usually makes lunch for me before he goes to work but today was a little different, as both of us were exhausted and unconscious until well past 1 p.m. and I was too discombobulated (isn’t that a fabulous word?) to make any intelligent decisions about food. That’s why I love these Mountain House things. Just add boiling water and you’ve got AN INSTANT TASTY MEAL! Plus, if you eat right out of the bag, like I do, you don’t even have to rinse any dishes afterwards. Life is amazing, isn’t it?

“Storm in a Teacup” is on TCM this week. Bring over a box of Lorna Doones and let’s watch together, okay?

Good morning, happy Sunday and shalom from Texas, y’all. I’ll begin this post the same way I begin many of them: WITH A GODDAMN PAIN REPORT. Here for your possible interest is my latest Shit-O-Meter reading.

Sign the petition! Tell NBC to dump Trump as guest host of “Saturday Night Live.”

It’s 8:30 Friday morning and I’m waiting for Sam to deliver my breakfast from the kitchen. This includes two Schwan’s corn dogs, a tall glass of Diet Sunkist with ice and a couple of napkins. Slaves are good.

Hey, you. I need a toe truck.

You may have missed this breaking news story on CNN, but about an hour ago I began my sleepy Thursday morning with a devastating and thoroughly unanticipated life-threatening injury. I bumped the big toenail on my left foot as I slid into a fluffy memory foam slipper using slightly more velocity that usual and wound up in a scene from M*A*S*H*. It was a fucking BLOODBATH around here, people, and I had to wake Sam to wrap my toe in toilet paper and say nice things to me.

The Little Slobster. Everywhere he goes he leaves a trail of dirt, crud, rust, paint, grease, crumbs, shit and spackle.

Good afternoon, dear readers, and a deliriously happy Wednesday to you and yours! Because I’ve got several million unique and moderately interesting news items to share with you today I’d better begin immediately or else I’ll fall asleep. Thank you for putting up with me.

It’s time to stop the fairytales and tell the goddamn truth about Columbus Day.

I love the “blank canvas” of a composition page when it’s time to work on a brand new Howdygram post. At this point I can go ANYWHERE, and I usually surprise myself, although today I’m suffering from a new kind of tsouris and I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to sit here typing. To cut to the chase: I’M ZONING OUT. Every few minutes I drift into a dense fog, can’t focus my eyes and start blinking like a maniac to try and stay awake. My only remedy would be a nice tasty freeze-dried Mountain House entree for senior citizens about an hour from now, for dinner. I’m considering either Chili Mac or Noodles & Chicken. If you’d like to voice your preference please do so IMMEDATELY by clicking right here. (Thank you.)

Oh my God, I just belched. I can go to bed now!

I’m having a very, very lousy night. I wanted to go to bed at the same time as Sam two hours ago (at midnight) except: 1) I’ve got severe pain in my chest due to an inability to belch like a truck driver; 2) my eyes are watering; 3) the skin on the back of my thighs is raw and bleeding again; and 4) I think that’s enough. To amuse myself while I wait for a good belch and an opportunity to take my next round of Norco I just designed a cute new mousepad for myself and ordered it from Zazzle. (It beats crying.)

Texans are ready for fall. Please send some as soon as possible.

Howdy-do from Texas, everybody! It’s another unwelcome and thoroughly unnecessary hot and sticky summer day in the middle of October, which also happens to be our fourth consecutive month with NO FUCKING RAIN. Here’s a look at the week ahead courtesy of Weather.com. Texans are ready for fall. Please send some as soon as possible.

A closer look at Dr. Ben Carson ... neurosurgeon, presidential candidate and putz.

Oy, I did something really, really dumb. I accidentally took two 10 mg Norco tablets a little while ago, and now I’m drifting into a dense, hopeless fog of pea soup and peanut butter. I would “live blog” this descent into a Saturday night drug-induced coma but I’m afraid I’ll stop typing mid-sentence and scare everybody half to death. Holy shit, I feel weird.

Greg Abbott is planning to roll back the state’s handicap access regulations ... and he’s a paraplegic in a wheelchair!

While Sam heads off to Wal-Mart to pick up potato chips, potato salad, sugar-free Jell-O cups and a couple of prescriptions — DRUGS! I NEED MY GODDAMN DRUGS! — I will stay behind to maintain law and order at Howdygram headquarters. (You have no idea how rowdy it can get around here. Seriously.)

A waste of time, a waste of energy, a waste of gas and a waste of breath mints.

I can sum up this morning’s appointment with my kidney specialist, who I hadn’t seen in almost two years, as follows: WHAT A GODDAMN WASTE OF TIME. My primary care physician never told Dr. Hsu why I was coming to see her, so she had to assume it wasn’t a big deal or she would have received a call and a fax about it. What the fuck? So Sam and I sat and kibbitzed with Dr. Hsu for six or seven minutes, a phlebotomist drew a tube of blood for no apparent reason whatsoever, and the doctor’s parting words from the doorway were: “Stop at the reception desk on your way out. I’d like to see you again in a year.”

Oy! Time marches on!

It’s a crazy-busy Wednesday morning here at Howdygram headquarters! We’re running the dishwasher, Sam is getting ready to throw a load of sheets into the washing machine and I’m seriously considering a chicken salad sandwich for lunch today on rye bread or Seasoned Meat Slabs for Senior Citizens with Grill Marks and Low-Carb Pasta Rice. I’m so excited in advance I can hardly stand it!

Note to parents: Do not raise entitled assholes. Thank you.

Yo, everybody. As I write this post I’m being bombarded by weird noises from the laundry room while an energetic service technician named Ricardo performs a routine tune-up on our GE Profile gas dryer (pictured below) and sucks stray lint from the vents and hoses. I’m told this is a really swell thing to do every couple of years, which makes sense. It’s definitely cheaper than buying a new dryer.

Donald Trump believes that entertainment value and ratings make him the savior of America.

I think it would be swell if South Carolina sent us an inch or two of rain because we haven’t had any measurable precipitation here since the second week of June. And please let me repeat this in case you’re not paying attention: IT HASN’T RAINED HERE SINCE THE SECOND WEEK OF JUNE. The only reason the local authorities still allow us to shower and flush the toilet is because we had a 20-inch deluge back in May that filled the reservoirs. Other than that, we’re fucked. And there’s nothing in the forecast, either, as you’ll note on the following graphic from Weather.com. Summer temperatures, zero rain, lots of sun. We could croak from the boredom here already.

Do not buy your dining room set from a website. You can thank me later.

Hello, and I’ve got EXTREMELY SHOCKING NEWS on this balmy Sunday night at Howdygram headquarters: I HAVE ZERO PAIN WHATSOEVER. I would NOT joke about this! After starting so many posts with annoying chronic pain updates I’m pleased to announce NO PAIN tonight. I’m not sure how long this will last, mind you, but it’s sure nice to know I can get ahead of it now and then. For your possible interest here’s my latest Shit-O-Meter readout.

Shut up and deal with it.

It’s amazing how much I don’t feeling like writing a Howdygram post when I’m dealing with physical pain. I apologize if I whine, but there are times I can’t help myself so you’ll just have to SHUT UP AND DEAL WITH IT. This morning, for instance, I’ve got stinging and burning skin issues on the back of my thighs that never seems to end unless I lie down on the chaise in the family room or find a comfortable position in bed. Otherwise it ABSOLUTELY SUCKS. I apologize if you’re sick of hearing about this. (Seriously.)

Sam is coming home today.

It’s 9:20 Friday morning and Sam comes home from California today. THIS IS A VERY BIG DEAL! To celebrate the occasion I injected insulin, ate a bag of Mountain House freeze-dried Biscuits & Gravy for senior citizens for breakfast, and tried (and failed) to make the bed because there’s a limit to what a handicapped old woman can do with a cane in one hand. Also I wasn’t very motivated.

Pay attention to your credit cards, people.

I forgot to include this juicy moronic tidbit in my last post so I thought I’d do another, okay? This time I want to discuss Jon Ritzheimer, the Muslim-hating militia asswipe in Arizona who’s really just a great big man-baby pussy. Ritzheimer and his pals (his pals are the ones in camo gear) like to show up heavily armed at local Mosques — at prayer time — occasionally decked out in “FUCK ISLAM” tee shirts, so Jon can sob on YouTube about getting unfair Facebook death threats and scream “THIS IS TERRORISM IN AMERICA!” while he sets up a GoFundMe page to grift Americans for $10 million so he and his family can relocate and hide out in luxury.

Note to Wayne LaPierre: There’s blood on your hands again, asshole!

Remember in my last post when I ruminated about maybe feeling better later in the day after consuming a large volume of my favorite prescription painkiller? It didn’t happen, people. I’ve had enough continuous doses of Norco since 7 a.m. Wednesday to sink a battleship ... BUT I STILL FEEL LIKE SHIT. Fortunately, my maid dropped in around 1 p.m. to make sure I’m still alive here and brought a bag of McDonald’s; I may feel lousy but at least I’m eating well. In case you’re interested, as much as I love them I honestly didn’t think I could face another day of those Mountain House freeze-dried entrees for senior citizens.

Drugs are amazing.

Know what I hate? Waking up wracked with pain after a lousy night’s sleep. This was just about one of the worst nights I can ever remember even though I actually felt not too bad when I went to bed at 3 a.m. I wish somebody could tell me what the hell happened between 3 and 6:45! At the moment I’ve got a whole whine list full of pain-related shit going on — everything from plantar fasciitis to sensitive bleeding skin to gas pains to a low-grade fever with aching joints — and I’m EXHAUSTED from lack of sleep. With any luck I’ll type this post really fast and then haul myself into the family room for a multi-hour nap on the chaise before my maid shows up at 1 p.m. for a pre-arranged visit to check on my welfare and make sure I haven’t fallen down in the family room with a bowl of chili and need four paramedics with a moose sling to help me get up.

Just fix my goddamn email and let’s move on.

Hi. It’s almost midnight and I’ve been considering what time I should go to bed. It probably doesn’t matter, though ... I’m always interrupted after four hours for a middle-of-the-night senior citizen bathroom adventure and wind up right here at my desk to horse around with the Howdygram. I guess it’s your lucky day after all!

I want my little plastic cup back.

It’s a pleasant, mostly cloudy Monday morning here at Howdygram headquarters. At 8:05 a.m. I’ve already been awake for nearly three hours due to a hypoglycemic (low blood sugar) episode that woke me from a sound sleep with a variety of irritating warning signs. These include not being able to breathe, double vision, shaky hands, dizziness and a severe craving for sugar. Just another sparkling day in Diabetesland, where I lead a jam-packed life filled with insulin, needles, chronic kidney disease and neuropathy pain.

Here in America, Mr. Rouhani, we just want to throw up.

Yes, dear readers, it’s me again. I have nothing else to do tonight because I took a nap on the chaise in the family room after dinner with the remote on my stomach and when I woke up the remote had vanished. I’m assuming it fell and wound up under the chaise, but I’m a disabled old lady with a lot of chronic pain and mobility issues who can’t get down on the floor to look for it. Fortunately ... my maid is coming over tomorrow on a pre-arranged visit to check on my general welfare, and remote retrieval will top her list of very urgent things to do. A few other very urgent things are listed below.

America will never survive the horror of gay Doritos.

It’s 6:15 Sunday morning and I didn’t sleep very well last night. My ongoing low-grade fever broke more than once and left me clammy, unhappy and irritated with soaking wet hair. An hour ago I finally gave up trying to sleep because I also couldn’t breathe — a frequent bonus from my heart condition at no extra charge — and decided to relocate myself to the study for drugs, a cold soda and food. As I write this post I’m rehydrating a bag of Mountain House’s freeze-dried Breakfast Skillet for handicapped senior citizens that includes hash browns, scrambled eggs, sausage, colorful flecks and onions. THIS IS DAMN GOOD STUFF (especially those colorful flecks!) and I’m awfully glad I’ve got two dozen bags of Mountain House freeze-dried whatnots in the study so I won’t starve to death while Sam is out of town. All I have to do is add boiling water.

If you need any additional evidence that Donald Trump is full of shit, here you go.

It’s shortly after 6 p.m. Saturday evening, Sam is in California AND I’M NOT. As I write this post he’s driving around North Hollywood in a brand new Mustang convertible — with the fucking top down and a loud radio! — while I’m trapped alone at home in north Texas, writhing in pain with irritated, bleeding thighs. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?

Bobby Jindal is a confused conservative “moran” on steroids.

Howdy-do and happy Saturday from the bowels of north Texas! I thought I’d get started on a Howdygram post while Sam is packing for his trip to California, which commences about two and a half hours from now when his flight takes off from Love Field. For your possible interest the following map indicates: A) Howdygram headquarters; B) Love Field airport; C) the State Fair of Texas in south Dallas, which is a major hoo-hah today full of people eating funnel cakes and deep-fried manure on a stick; D) Sam works here; and E) George Dubya Bush’s house in the snooty Preston Hollow neighborhood.

It’s time once again for the State Fair of Texas.

Today’s the day, people! This was opening day for the State Fair of Texas right here in Dallas. In case you’re interested in shlepping to the Lone Star State for cattle judging, a ride on the Tilt-A-Whirl and a couple of classic corn dogs, please note that the Fair runs from September 25 through October 18 and there are lots of opportunities to get in really cheap or free. These include …

Getting carried away is the story of my life.

In case you didn’t recognize us, THE HOWDYGRAM HAD A MAKEOVER LAST NIGHT! Holy crap, people, this was so much fun I almost had a cow. We’ve got a NEW BANNER, NEW COLORS and some NEW GRAPHICS. I know this is probably insignificant in the grand scheme of life, but I spend a lot more hours staring at this blog than you do ... so every little change is FUCKING HUGE. I’m especially excited about the new text color — gray was getting on my nerves — and the wood-textured banner. Seriously. I was hoping to work on all this while Sam is in California (he leaves tomorrow morning) but I got so carried away I couldn’t wait. Getting carried away is the story of my life.

Dumbass McBullethead doesn’t have enough dough to fill his car with gas.

Happy Wednesday morning from your pals at the Howdygram. After a thoroughly forgettable Day of Fever, Nausea, Joint Pain, the Hangnail from Hell and General Sickness all day yesterday I’m pleased to report that I feel substantially better today even though it’s only 9 a.m. and you never can tell what could go wrong by lunch-time. (No, I’m not an optimist. Deal with it.)

News from Clots “R” Us, Howdygram headquarters’ do-it-yourself blood clot clinic.

Oy. Happy Monday, everybody, from hot and sticky Texas. I just woke up abruptly from an after-lunch nap and I’m not feeling so good in any way whatsoever. Maybe I should put together a comprehensive whine list so you’ll know what the fuck is going on around here.

You never realize how big your house is until you can’t walk any more.

I’m having “mouse issues.” My wireless Apple mouse is skipping, getting stuck, locking up, acting jerky and generally driving me insane. I almost ordered a new one last night from Amazon for $65.99 but decided to hold off for a while until I try a variety of other remedies. First up, at Sam’s suggestion, DITCH MY VERY OLD MOUSE PAD — even though it’s really adorable with his baby picture on it — and just use the mouse on the surface of my desk. I guess it’s worth a shot. Stay tuned for further developments but please feel free to continue your usual Sunday routine in the meantime. (Thank you.)

Mike Ditka has an eight-inch sausage.

Oy, what a nap. I just spent SIX GLORIOUS HOURS on the chaise in the family room without moving a muscle. While this might sound like a really good idea, there are also a bunch of negatives: 1) I didn’t get any lunch; 2) I never took any of my lunch-time meds; 3) I missed two doses of my prescription painkiller; and 4) when I finally woke up I HAD TO PEE LIKE A RACE HORSE. (Probably Secretariat.) In any event, it’s good to be alive.

Be careful what you choose for a snack.

Do you ever wonder who reads the Howdygram besides you? The answer is, LOTS OF PEOPLE! In case you have a few fucks to give, within the last 48 hours the Howdygram has welcomed international visitors from: Budapest, Hungary; St. John’s, Newfoundland; Canterbury, United Kingdom; Mexico; Burnaby, British Columbia; Berlin, Germany; New South Wales, Australia; Oran, Algeria; Melbourne, Australia; San José, Costa Rica; Hobart, Tasmania*; Newmarket, Ontario; Petaling Jaya, Malaysia; Parañaque, Philippines; Nassau, Bahamas; East Sussex, United Kingdom; and Fajardo, Puerto Rico. *Birthplace of Errol Flynn.

Dear Barstool Palin: Go shoot a few mooses and STFU.

I am grieved to report another very, very shitty night’s sleep, maybe the worst experience EVER. I seem to be going through another episode of intense chronic pain and it even hurts like hell to toss and turn in bed. I would’ve just gotten up and migrated into the study. Unfortunately it hurts like hell to WALK, too, so I laid there like a sweaty zombie and MOANED OUT LOUD FOR FOUR FUCKING HOURS.

Thrilling highlights from the second GOP presidential debate.

It’s 5:15 a.m. and I’m upside-down. I fell asleep on the chaise in the family room last night around 11 p.m. AND I JUST WOKE UP. Going to bed at this point is futile because I’m totally wide awake and I’d rather write a Howdygram post now, anyway. Is this your lucky day, or what?

Ridiculous love scenes on film: Dustin Hoffman tries to make a sexy-face at Vanessa Redgrave’s chin.

Hello. It’s 6:45 Wednesday afternoon and I’m running a low-grade fever. The only “plus” is, at least now I know why my joints feel like shit. I’ve been aching more than usual for the last couple of days and woke up this morning feeling like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz. The only thing that could make me feel better — aside from a large dose of prescription painkillers — is Chinese food. I was hoping to try a hole-in-the-wall on Gus Thomasson Road called Mr. Teriyaki (somebody left a full-color menu with pictures taped to our front door) except I just found out online THEY CAN’T PASS A HEALTH INSPECTION. Thank God for the Internet! Therefore I’ll have to fall back on my two favorite Chinese restaurants, China City and King China. Of the two, King China has an edge because they have a lot more vegetable dishes like Szechwan String Beans. I LOVE SZECHWAN STRING BEANS!

Even diabetics get attacked by a sweet tooth once in a while.

I was supposed to have an appointment this morning with my cardiologist, Dr. Singh, pictured at right in his best hat. It was just a routine six-month checkup thing to make sure my meds are working nicely (they are) and I’m still alive (I am). I do have one heart-related complaint, however: I’M ALWAYS SHORT OF BREATH. This began a few months ago as an occasional side effect ... and now I have to deal with it almost all the time. I have atrial fibrillation.

I’m definitely in favor of not washing a dish. Ask anybody.

Sam and his brother David — he’s visiting for the weekend! yay! — are in the kitchen eating waffles and coffee, and I’m in the study with an ice cold Diet Sunkist soda and Mountain House scrambled eggs in a bag with bacon. No kidding, people, these Mountain House freeze-dried whatnots are OUTSTANDING. It’s probably more economical to buy the giant gallon cans of this shit but then you’d have to wash a dish afterwards. I’m definitely in favor of NOT washing a dish. Ask anybody.

More senior citizen food reviews and the Howdygram’s new five-chopper rating system.

Happy Friday night to you and yours from the editorial staff at Howdygram headquarters. Sam and I just spent most of the evening hanging a huge arrangement of Marks family photos in the study. It took a couple of weeks for me to scan, restore, print and frame them; Sam did a stellar job hanging them all. What a good-looking bunch of people! Included here are siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, parents, grandparents and a swimming pool.

A salmonella outbreak has been linked to attractive 10-inch cucumbers imported from Mexico.

See? I didn’t forget to write a Howdygram post today after all. I’m right here at my desk in the study with a great big icy glass of Diet Sunkist orange soda. And before I forget, HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO SAM AND ME. Yesterday was our ninth wedding anniversary! If you want to send a check or a present please contact me immediately for our shipping address. Thank you in advance for your generosity.

What the fuck ... I’m retired!

I’m not having an especially terrific week. The biggest issue — as usual — is PAIN, this time involving my shitty knees, my shitty feet, my shitty recurring rash and stiffness in my shitty right shoulder and upper arm. THIS SUCKS, PEOPLE. And adding to this mess is an ongoing problem with shortness of breath. Basically I drag myself around the house whining, crying, swearing like a sailor and gasping for air ... probably the most repulsive sight on God’s green earth not counting Donald Trump.

Let’s get a pizza and celebrate.

Hi. It’s me. I just realized I forgot to write a Howdygram post on Friday — horrors! — and then let Saturday slip away from me, too. I am without excuse, I suppose, not counting chronic pain, extra naps, horsing around with Sam and enjoying a first Face Time experience with my best girlfriend in Chicago who thinks I still look like I’m in high school. (Apparently she wasn’t wearing her glasses.) Anyway, I’ve got a variety of topics and news updates to share with you tonight so I’m thinking I’ll just do my favorite neat little indented paragraphs with subheads. Thank you.

Two things: 1) I went to the doctor this morning; and 2) I just saved us $25,000.

Happy Thursday afternoon from Howdygram headquarters! This has been a day of remarkable accomplishments for yours truly, which I’ll list for you below in neat subtitled paragraphs, with photos and illustrations whenever possible. Thank you.

Barstool Palin, America’s shriekiest serial unwed mother, weighs in on the “Denali” brouhaha.

It’s a HUGE WEEK around here for this hungry senior citizen, because all the Mountain House freeze-dried meals I ordered from Wal-Mart and CampSaver.com will be arriving via FedEx today and tomorrow! You may remember my Howdygram post from August 29 when I explained that Sam will be out of town for a few days at the end of this month and I’ll be on my own for meal preparation ... but that’s NOT a good thing because my overall mobility is so fucking shot to hell now that I can’t stand up long enough to nuke two corn dogs. That’s when I Googled and discovered Mountain House freeze-dried entrees for campers senior citizens. Just pour hot water into the foil pouch, zip it shut, wait a few minutes and PRESTO BLAMMO ... real food with gravy! I ordered all of the following entrees this week in addition to a set of plastic salt & pepper shakers and a lightweight measuring cup for my desk in the study in case I can’t haul my ass into the kitchen. That’s a very long walk when you’re dealing with pain issues. I’m not kidding, either.

Useless and befuddled Rick Perry has made one last desperate attempt to be Jesus.

Know what? Every Monday there’s an element of “separation anxiety” around here when Sam goes back to work after the weekend. I get depressed because Sam is fun, cute, entertaining and attentive plus I love playing with his toes. When he’s not here I have to fill my time with the Howdygram, kvetching, folding socks, ordering an occasional pantry essential from Wal-Mart and one or two naps with a movie. It’s a nice life.

My quadruple-whammy Sunday.

I feel like CRAP this morning. It’s actually been kind of a quadruple-whammy. I woke up at 5 a.m. in a puddle of perspiration and couldn’t catch my breath, the result of a fairly substantial fever and a severe low blood sugar episode. I sat in the bathroom eating glucose chewables until I started to feel steady again and then popped one of my prescription painkillers because it’s got Tylenol in it. While I wait for it to kick in I’m also dealing with pain in my knees and heels plus raw skin on the back of both thighs. It’s like winning the weekend agony lottery. LET’S SLAM THAT POOR OLD BROAD WITH EVERYTHING ALL AT ONCE! So here for your possible interest is the latest Shit-O-Meter report. Oy.

Go make yourself a cheese sandwich.

Shalom, happy Saturday, what’s new and how’s the family from your friends at Howdygram headquarters! I’ve got a shitload of exciting topics and snide remarks to share with y’all today, so go make yourself a cheese sandwich and let’s get started.

Hot damn. It’s Monty Woolley Day on TCM!

We’re winding down the month of August and Turner Classic Movies’ juicy annual SUMMER UNDER THE STARS festival, featuring a different overpaid big shot’s films every day of the month. For the next five days TCM is celebrating Monty Woolley, Ingrid Bergman, George C. Scott, Gary Cooper and Shelley Winters, all pictured below for your possible interest.

Disgraced Confederate lard queen Paula Deen has joined the cast of “Dancing with the Stars” for season 21.

Hello, friends. Although I’m not having a swell day, pain-wise, by any stretch of the imagination, I thought I’d fill some time with a Howdygram post because my faithful readers are starting to foam at the mouth and wonder what the fuck happened to me. The answer? I’m alive. I’m regular. I’m drinking a Diet Sunkist and trying to strategize how to prepare my own dinner before Sam gets home from work because I’m hungry. And I’ve still got my sense of humor.

Buy Jackie O. knockoffs and cheap reproductions of the Tzar’s crown jewels for $29.95 a month.

Before I leap into some of the Howdygram’s more popular features — jerks, Internet deals and politics — please put up with me while I do some whining. I’m not having a good day, pain-wise, and as I write this post all of the following are giving me serious grief. I have: 1) a low-grade fever that’s causing more joint and muscle pain than usual; 2) a headache; 3) pain in my left heel from plantar fasciitis; 4) raw skin on the back of both thighs; 5) a dying, screaming nerve on the outside of my right thigh that’s so painful even AIR makes it hurt; 6) a disgusting heat rash all over my stomach resulting from item one; and 7) shitty cuticles. On top of all that I’M REALLY HUNGRY RIGHT NOW and Sam won’t be home from work for at least two more hours. (Sam cooks for me. Stop laughing.) GOD BLESS PRESCRIPTION PAINKILLERS.

Another momentous week at Howdygram headquarters.

In case you’re wondering where I’ve been and what have I been doing, please note that I didn’t have time to write a post on Sunday due to: 1) no inspiration; 2) a serious shortage of rejuvenating naps; 3) hanging out with Sam; 4) installing the latest round of meaningless Howdygram design tweaks; and 5) I can’t think of anything else. Just deal with it, okay?

Drive-by insults can make you feel like you’re changing lives and contributing to democracy.

Good morning, people, and happy Saturday to you and yours! It’s 7:30 a.m., Sam is on the mend, I’m stuffed with corn dogs and life is good here at Howdygram headquarters. I”ll begin by showing off my three newest free fonts for your possible interest.

The time at the tone will be 4:28 a.m. (Beep.)

I’m not having an easy time here. Poor Sam is FUCKING MISERABLE with head-to-toe poison ivy blisters and I had my own very bad day with chronic pain that included knees, heels, feet, hands, raw bleeding skin on the back of my thighs, a migraine headache and screaming nerve endings. Sam manages to sleep through his misery but I can’t. I tried for two whole hours to fall asleep in bed but eventually gave up and hauled my ass into the study. I can always find distractions on the Internet. The time at the tone will be 4:28 a.m. (Beep.)

I’m zoned out and Sam has poison ivy.

I’m so zoned out on prescription painkillers today I keep dropping my cordless Apple mouse on the floor. Unfortunately, the damn thing is really slippery and impossible to pick up with my long-reach grabber whatnot so I have to whack it into one of my memory foam slippers first. It’s always something, isn’t it? Shit.

I spilled scalding hot soup on my chest today at lunch.

In the spirit of not having anything whatsoever to do and it’s probably a little too early — i.e., 8:50 a.m. and Sam is on his way to the optometrist — for my first nap of the day, I thought it might be fun to share the eight new deep fried finalists (see below) in this year’s Texas State Fair Big Tex Choice Awards.

I hate lab tests, especially when the phlebotomist can’t find a fucking vein.

I know you’ll forgive me for not writing a Howdygram post over the weekend. I didn’t feel very creative or inspired and there wasn’t really any big news to report except that I ordered the following new throw pillow from Wal-Mart. It’s for our new leather sectional that’s being custom-made by The Leather Sofa Co. right here in Dallas. (It’s supposed to be ready by the end of August. Keep those fingers crossed, people.)

Does everybody pee in the shower?

You know what? As a housebound senior citizen with crap knees, diabetes, fucked-up skin issues and a load of chronic pain I realized today that my life is basically an endless stream of minutiae.

A federal court tells nuns to eat a bag of dicks and fill out their goddamn forms.

Holy crap, what a wild and crazy day packed with unforgettable events here at Howdygram headquarters! The complete list appears below for your possible interest.

Protect yourself against Satan with potato soup.

Ready for some huge news? I’m really hungry right now and might consider making my own goddamn dinner tonight instead of waiting until Sam gets home from work at 9:15. Or I could order something, which is faster, tastier and involves zero manual labor. Maybe Chinese! With SHRIMP DUMPLINGS and EGG ROLLS* and HOT & SOUR SOUP and EXTRA SOY SAUCE!

Typing is my whole goddamn life aside from Sam.

Hi. I’m soooo zoned-out right now on prescription painkillers that I’m not sure I remember how to type, and I’ve been typing since I was seven years old when my cousin Bobby taught me how to use the “shift” key to get capital letters on the old manual typewriter in his parents’ basement. I hope you don’t think I’m kidding, because I’m not. TYPING IS MY WHOLE GODDAMN LIFE ASIDE FROM SAM.

My toes run the world.

It was really only a matter of time. I guess it had been eight months or more since I smashed a perfectly innocent toenail into a table or chair and attempted to bleed to death. Last night at 8:15 as I was heading into the master bathroom for a wonderful hot shower, the base of Sam’s huge heavy chair in the study attacked the middle toenail on my right foot and smashed it to smithereens, resulting in an inordinate amount of blood due to I take Coumadin (a blood thinner) and simple injuries become a very big hoo-hah because my blood doesn’t clot. Welcome to THE GREAT TOEPOCALYPSE.

Luxury showers by fake candlelight!

THIS IS A MOMENTOUS DAY AT HOWDYGRAM HEADQUARTERS. No, my caps key isn’t stuck; there’s just no other way to emphasize that today is a big fucking deal around here and I want to tell you WHY.

Introducing our fantastic new tape dispenser with a bonus built-in pencil cup.

Heat has to be the big story today because WE’RE FRYING TO DEATH IN TEXAS. Holy crap, check it out for yourself. Relentless triple digits, no rain in sight and enough humidity to make it feel like a third-world country. THANK GOD FOR CHERRY POPSICLES AND CENTRAL AIR. Thank you.

“Making Machine-Gun Bacon with Ted Cruz” by the biggest asshole in the universe.

It’s 9:30 Tuesday morning. Sam just got back from a variety of important errands — complete details appear below — while I stayed home at Howdygram headquarters, holding down the proverbial fort with a Marcytini and a bathrobe.

Ken Paxton could lose his job as a state official and have to stop lawyering for the rest of his life.

Holy crap. I can’t believe I forgot to show you my latest shopping conquest! They’re small glass bathroom canisters by InterDesign that measure about 3½" wide by 5" tall, maybe the same size as a can of soda except for the short one, which isn’t. I ordered FIVE of these cute little hoo-hahs from Amazon ... two with bronze lids (see below) for the family room and for my nightstand in the master bedroom, and three with chrome lids for the bathrooms. Aside from being relatively cheap they’re also exquisitely useful. I’ll fill three with emergency glucose tablets because I’m diabetic, one with Q-Tips, and I’ll use the short one as a classy denture cup. I’M SO EXCITED I CAN HARDLY STAND IT. (Stop laughing immediately.)

I ate Costco chicken salad for lunch plus Jell-O.

Sunday was a very large deal at Howdygram headquarters for all of the following reasons.

I love karma. (I also love Cheetos.)

I couldn’t write a Howdygram post yesterday for several large and thoroughly acceptable reasons: 1) we just finished remodeling our house and I spent all day staring at it; 2) naps; 3) Sam and I purged every closet in the house and stuffed several thousand bags for Goodwill; and 4) I think that’s enough. Thank you for not being a pest about this.

We’ve had only .18 inches of rain for the entire month of July. Oy.

It’s another hot and sweaty day here in Texas. At 10:30 a.m. it’s already 94° with 50% humidity. Unfortunately, a decent chance of thunderstorms originally forecast for tomorrow is now totally kaput ... which means we’ve had only .18 inches of rain for the entire month of July. Oy. That’s way below normal (even for Texas) and REALLY FUCKING NOT SO GOOD.

Chef Boyardee mini ravioli is an excellent meal when you have no other immediate options.

I’m pleased to report that Howdygram headquarters is finally nearing the end of its big summer remodeling hoo-hah! Re-Bath of Dallas was here this morning to install the glass shower enclosure in our master bathroom and Gary-the-Handyman painted the family room, installed recessed lighting in the laundry room, ate lunch, repaired a stress crack on the living room ceiling and tried to find my missing towel rings.

I’m fed up and finished with the entire herd of raging assholes in the 2016 Republican clown car.

Yo, everybody. I want to begin this post with some SHOCKING SUMMER WEATHER NEWS from hot and steamy Texas. Check out the following four-day forecast and you’ll see we’re expecting a COLD SNAP and STORMS on Friday with frigid two-digit temperatures and the first rain we’ve had since a May/June deluge that left most of the Lone Star State underwater.

Free fonts always cheer me up.

I’m not having a very swell day today. My complaints du jour include: 1) shortness of breath; 2) my feet keep falling asleep; 3) I’ve got raw skin on the back of both thighs that sometimes bleeds for no reason; 4) knee pain; and 5) I can’t think of anything else. Frankly, I’d rather be in bed for a nice, juicy late afternoon nap than writing a Howdygram post right now. We’ll see what happens. If I disappear for a couple of hours I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out.

Nobody in their right mind wants to smell like Beyoncé or Jennifer Lopez.

It’s Sunday, and I’m starting my day exactly like every other cranky senior citizen in the United States of America. With PRESCRIPTION PAINKILLERS, an ice cold DIET SUNKIST ORANGE SODA and a JIMMY DEAN BREAKFAST BISCUIT on a paper plate with a couple of Vanity Fair napkins (the good kind). Seriously, can life get any better than this?

In Sunnyvale you can enjoy the welcome sound of mooing seven days a week.

Hello from hot and sweaty Texas, where we’re in the midst of a typical extended summer triple-digit no-rain extravaganza. In other words, IT’S JULY, STUPID. Thank God for sugar-free popsicles and air conditioning. It’s 7 p.m. as I write this post and Sam decided to go for a drive through Sunnyvale, the sprawling suburb of mansions and cattle ranches across the street from Howdygram headquarters where you can enjoy the welcome sound of mooing seven days a week.

The Howdygram has another “new look.”

I’ve had one hell of a week around here due to TWO BIG HUGE THINGS. First, there’s been UPHEAVAL and REMODELING and STARTLING COLORS and AMAZING CABINETS IN THE LAUNDRY ROOM and SHINY HARDWARE! Gary-the-Handyman didn’t finish our remodeling hoo-hah on Friday as originally planned and will be back on Tuesday with more paint, extra overalls and a fresh supply of dropcloths. Projects still left to do include: 1) paint two red accent walls in the family room; 2) repair a stress crack in the living room ceiling; 3) attach handles to the cabinets in both bathrooms and the laundry room; 4) install towel rings and towel bars in both bathrooms; 5) recaulk and regrout the tub/shower in the hall bathroom; 6) install a recessed light fixture on the laundry room ceiling; and 7) repair and paint minor drywall fuckups in the master bath and laundry room.

The smell of latex paint gets me sexually excited.

I meant to write a Howdygram post yesterday but it just didn’t happen due to I got a little too wrapped up with our amazing summer remodeling hoo-hah. Gary-the-Handyman is making excellent progress and he should be done with BOTH BATHROOMS today, which is a mildly depressing thought because the smell of latex paint gets me sexually excited. (I thought you’d want to know.)

News flash! Adorable Sam bought our new family room furniture this morning!

This is a HUGE WEEK for Howdygram headquarters, guys, and it’s filled with an exciting list of MOMENTOUS SHIT and THRILLING ACTIVITIES!

Sam wants a big squishy “man-chair.”

As if there wasn’t already more than enough hoo-hah around here dealing with multiple summer remodeling projects, yesterday Sam dropped a bombshell: HE WANTS NEW FAMILY ROOM FURNITURE. AND HE WANTS IT NOW. Holy shitsky, people. More decisions.

I finally decided on paint colors after a week of hand-wringing, hysteria and emotional torment.

Howdy, howdy and howdy! It’s a blistering hot Friday afternoon here at Howdygram headquarters but I’m cool and comfortable in the study with a Diet Sunkist, half an Atkins low-carb Nutty Fudge Brownie — even at the peak of freshness these shitty things always taste STALE — and a creative urge to write a nice juicy post before my next nap. For the record, this sums up the life of a retiree with mobility issues: FINDING INTERESTING WAYS TO FILL THE TIME BETWEEN NAPS.

George H.W. Bush’s retirement hobbies include breathing, sitting and collecting socks.

Good morning, people. It’s hot as hell here in Texas and completely typical for July. At this time of year I’m perfectly content to be a housebound senior citizen with mobility issues because nobody wants to go outside, anyway, due to the following two-week forecast. Unfortunately, it fails to show the humidity (about 55%, like a fucking swamp) and the heat index (unbearable). Plus there’s no rain in the forecast whatsoever.

Even if you don’t see anything going on, something is probably really going on maybe.

Hello from Loonyland! Today is a VERY IMPORTANT DAY for several very large and exciting reasons!

Look out for Barber Foods’ stuffed Diarrhea Surprise chicken breasts.

It’s the middle of the night and I just got out of bed feeling like SHIT SHIT SHIT, as indicated on the Shit-O-Meter graphic posted below. No kidding, guys, EVERY BONE IN MY BODY HURTS, the skin on the back of my thighs feels like third degree burns, I’m congested, my eyes are watering and I can’t figure out how to get comfortable. I just took two Norco tablets; as soon as they kick in I think I’ll try lying down on the chaise in the family room. Until then I guess you’re stuck with me.

Today’s Internet deal? Genuine pink tape that won’t rip out your body hair.

This has been an awesome Saturday here at Howdygram headquarters, highlighted by: 1) a very pleasant lunch; 2) a very pleasant afternoon nap; 3) a really fun and satisfying crafty labeling project for the kitchen and pantry; 4) shampooing my hair on the toilet (details follow); 5) sending Sam to Costco and Wal-Mart; and 6) I can’t think of anything else.

Wow. Just, wow.

As a handicapped senior citizen with shitty knees who practically can’t walk any more I’m embarrassed to admit that I haven’t peeked into the master bathroom since the crew from Re-Bath of Dallas started working on Tuesday. Yesterday, however, was different. When they left at 4 I decided to drag my ass a little farther than usual to check on their progress, and holy crap, people ... THE BATHROOM IS EXQUISITE. It looks like something you’d see on the cover of “Snooty Houses” magazine with a gigantic master bath that’s actually BIGGER THAN MY FIRST APARTMENT. I’m so goddamn excited my head might explode!

When you get old nobody really expects very much from you, so why not go ahead and sleep through everything.

Today is day three of Sam and Marcy’s Fancy Shower Adventure, where your favorite housebound senior citizen blogger with shitty knees and a hangnail — i.e., yours truly — achieved world-class status on Wednesday as a remodeling project supervisor. This was another classic example of A Retiree’s World of Meaningless Accomplishments.

In Texas it’s apparently okay to stand up for the rule of law by ignoring the U.S. Constitution.

It’s actually happening, people! Two hard-working and seriously sweaty geniuses from Re-Bath of Dallas were here all day gutting our master bathroom with a jackhammer, making plenty of noise and lots of progress. Today they ripped out our shower, including the shower bench, the shower pan, a shitload of ceramic tiles and all the old plumbing. They also remediated some mold under the bench and behind the wall tiles resulting from a seriously shitty job last summer by Clayton and the grout people, who spent three months trying to fix a problem with discolored baseboards and didn’t realize it was caused by a water leak from the shower. (Idiots.)

Senator Lee Bright thinks public employees should take a stand against sin in South Carolina. (Really.)

What can I say about a perfect Tuesday? We’ve got a 50% chance of rain, a crew of bathroom remodelers are pulling apart our old shower with a jackhammer, I got a fantastic deal on new cabinet hardware from Amazon and I’ve just decided what to eat for lunch: CHEF BOYARDEE MINI RAVIOLI WITH A WAD OF PARMESAN CHEESE!

Sam & Marcy’s Fancy Shower Adventure starts tomorrow!

Good morning from Agonyland, U.S.A. After a pleasant but mostly inadequate night’s sleep I’m grieved to announce that I FEEL LIKE TOTAL SHIT RIGHT NOW. This crazy skin hoo-hah on the back of my left thigh feels like a fucking THIRD-DEGREE BURN and makes it impossible to get comfortable ANYWHERE, even lying down or sitting on my squishy new office chair in the study with Diet Sunkist orange soda in a can. I want to kill somebody or take a bunch of drugs. (Drugs are my friend.)

Glue Dots are the best invention ever invented in the history of inventing things.

Happy Independence Day, y’all, from Howdygram headquarters in the great state of Texas! Sam and I are celebrating today with our little family’s favorite holiday traditions: Myrna Loy movies, an afternoon nap, hot dogs from Five Guys and picking up prescriptions at Wal-Mart before they get pissed off and put them back into stock. Oh boy! GOD BLESS AMERICA!

Cliven Bundy says Rand Paul promised to make Nevada a “sovereign state” if he’s elected President.

Hi there, Howdygramsters. I’m feeling bouncy, bright and relatively pain-free after a full day of juicy extended naps! Unfortunately, it’s 2:35 a.m. Saturday, I’m completely wide awake and slightly clammy even after a pleasant shower about an hour ago. Holy crap, right?

There’s no better way to cheer up a miserable spouse than by investing in prepaid cremation services.

Shit shit shit SHIT SHIT! I don’t know what the hell’s going on here today, but — just like yesterday — my pain level is practically off the charts and I think I’m having a nervous breakdown. In case you want specifics, here’s a complete list of today’s complaints: 1) I’m nauseated; 2) I have a periodic migraine; 3) the skin on the back of my thighs feels like somebody set it on fire; 4) my heels and knees are killing me; 5) it hurts to sit, it hurts to walk, it hurts to breathe, it hurts to move, it hurts to eat corn dogs; 6) I’m short of breath; 7) I’m clammy; 8) I’m dizzy; 9) I’m disoriented; 10) I hate everybody; and 11) I even hate YOU. (Don’t take this personally. I’ll probably like you again after I take two or three prescription painkillers.)

Barstool Palin is a pathological liar.

Hello, shalom, what’s new and how’s the family? Sam is still enjoying his week of “staycation,” and it’s another hot summer day here at Howdygram headquarters with zero rain and a high of 95° in case you give a shit. Today’s activities will include: 1) a healthy breakfast of Schwan’s corn dogs and a can of Diet Sunkist orange soda; 2) a phone conference with our attorney at 9 a.m. to discuss miscellaneous crap related to our will; 3) probably a couple of naps; 4) our maid will be here after lunch; and 5) FedEx is delivering my Wal-Mart butt wipes today. In other e-commerce news, last night I got my 12-pack of lobster ramen bowls and two boxes of Bausch & Lomb wipey towelette things (see below) from Wal-Mart, and yesterday’s new orders included toothpaste for Sam and a chrome over-the-cabinet towel bar for the master bath from Wal-Mart and Amazon, respectively. (This is an OUTSTANDING towel bar, people. We have one in the kitchen.)