Super Bowl Sunday is America’s annual showcase of brain-damaged gladiators.

It’s the wee hours of Saturday morning, I feel surprisingly okay and not like a zombie, and I’m here to do some Howdygrammin’. It’s your lucky day!

Every time you vote Republican, an asshole gets its wings.

There are a bazillion interesting things to write about today if I can stay awake long enough to write them! My new meds — Gabapentin, Eliquis and Metoprolol — have definitely made a clear and compelling difference in my ability to compose cogent sentences and sometimes I can’t even get my fingers on the right keys. Please bear with me. I’m a wreck.

Save a pretzel for the gas jets!

First of all, boys and girls, please check out the following screen shot of Howdygram headquarters’ local forecast yesterday on Weather.com and cry into your Cheerios. It just doesn’t get more swell than this even if you live in Florida, southern California or Oz.

Breaking news: I can’t stay awake long enough to microwave a stinking can of tamales.

There are THREE OFFICIAL REASONS why something is seriously wrong with me, and they are outlined for you below in neat, titled paragraphs.

Sarah Palin. What the fuck is she talking about?

Hello from Howdygramland. It’s late afternoon and I’m attempting to stay awake between naps with a Marcytini to keep me company. I have to admit, I’m loving my new pain medication because it totally knocks me out. God bless Gabapentin, people. I LOVE THIS SHIT.

Introducing Marcy’s Easy French Dip and Fast Jus for Senior Citizens with No Rolls and Crippled Knees.

I’ve got THREE FASCINATING THINGS to share with y’all today, but I’ll begin with our glorious four-day forecast here at Howdygram headqarters. It’s an especially nice forecast for this time of year and an early Valentine’s Day present from the National Weather Service, particularly when you consider the life-threatening blizzard-of-the-century that’s heading for New York City. Please check it out below and wave like a maniac if you agree with me. (Thank you.)

Ernie Banks was goddamn adorable.

While Sam is at Wal-Mart picking up prescriptions I’ve decided to hang out in the study and write this Howdygram post. I don’t think I’ll be able to finish it, however, due to my morning meds making me feel loopy and inebriated AND I NEED A BIG NAP.

I treated myself to a fun new fashion accessory today. It’s the Handy-Dandy Senior Citizen Leg-Shlepper!

Hi, people. This is a happy day at Howdygram headquarters due to finally taking a new prescription medication — Gabapentin — that really relieves a lot of my pain. I FEEL LIKE A DIFFERENT PERSON. Gabapentin also makes me sleepy, sluggish, blurry and slow, but I can live with that. I have nowhere to go, I don’t drive, I’m not entered in a race and nobody gives a shit if I’m cockeyed.

Kill me now. I haven’t slept since Tuesday.

THURSDAY, 7:15 A.M. I hope you don’t think I’m joking about this because I’m NOT. I can’t get comfortable, I can’t fall asleep and I’m not even especially tired. Trouble is, when I don’t sleep I run into all kinds of unexpected health issues, such as elevated blood sugar numbers, increased pain in my legs and a severe lack of motivation to make soup. I’m pretty damn miserable right now and the weather outside isn’t helping much because it’s 39°, windy and pouring rain. For your possible interest the teeny red star on the following map denotes Howdygram headquarters but don’t bother to zoom in because I’m crabby, my hair is a mess and I don’t feel like waving to you or to anybody else. Thank you.

At last, I have a new and exciting medical condition!

Let’s talk about getting kicked in the shins, okay? This morning’s appointment with Dr. M lasted THREE FUCKING HOURS and included a lot of waiting, lab work, more waiting, a flu shot, more waiting, an EKG, more waiting, a consultation with the cardiologist (Dr. Singh) and the diagnosis, at last, of a new and exciting medical condition — ATRIAL FIBRILLATION — that we’ll begin treating immediately with two new drugs, Coumadin and Metoprolol so I won’t have a stroke and scare the shit out of Sam. This is in addition to another medication that Dr. M prescribed — Gabapentin — to help relieve my never-ending pain from diabetic neuropathy. Regarding follow-up, in two weeks I have to see Dr. Singh at his office in Rockwall for an echocardiogram, so I guess this means I officially have a cardiologist now. (Personally, I’d rather have a new TV.) Holy crap.

This is why God invented wheelchairs.

It’s 5 a.m. and I’m wide awake. This doesn’t exactly piss me off, however, because I enjoyed three seriously intense naps on Tuesday, the last one ending at sometime after midnight while Sam and I watched Roman Holiday (1953) starring Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck. I guess there’s only one real downside to being awake right now: I can’t go back to bed if I get tired because I’ve got an appointment with Dr. M at 8:45. Also I’m having a hypoglycemic episode. (It’s always something, isn’t it?)

President Obama’s State of the Union address is a very big hoo-hah and you shouldn’t miss it.

Hi, guys. It’s Monday night, I’m suitably rested, fed and showered, Sam will be home from work sometime during the next half-hour and I’ve got an exciting announcement to share with you: I’VE GOT A WHOLE BUNCH OF NEW FONTS! I realize that I pretended to kick my addiction back in 2013 but I hope you’ll understand that I flat-out lied about it. I’ve been collecting fonts since 1986 and I guess the damn things are in my blood. For the record, most of these were free but I actually paid money for Extra! Extra! and Doran Comics during Comicraft’s New Year’s Eve sale because what the hell, why not? Seriously, if Sam doesn’t mind, why should you?

Senatorial chicken-hawk Lindsey Graham is our latest Putz of the Week.

This has been a subdued and peculiar day around here highlighted by a number of sequential naps in various rooms of the house, interesting movies, occasional food and no motivation to write a Howdygram post until about five minutes ago. In case you’re looking for specifics, the interesting movies were The Master of Ballentrae (1953) starring Errol Flynn and Roger Livesey, Ruggles of Red Gap (1935) starring Charles Laughton and Roland Young, and For the Defense (1930) starring William Powell and Kay Francis; the occasional food included a Sausage McMuffin for breakfast and a smattering of teeny tacos from Costco between naps during the afternoon. At the moment I’m mighty hungry and considering a variety of options, nearly all of them featuring a substantial quantity of pizza.

We have no plans for Sunday whatsoever except for rinsing off a bunch of dishes in the kitchen sink.

Truth be told, Saturday wasn’t so hot around here. I was in a semi-shitty mood throughout the morning due to an unexplained migraine the night before, I had a crappy overall level of knee pain all day long, and then, just for fun and at no additional charge, sometime around midnight I smashed my right foot into the bathroom door jam and split a toenail. To make matters worse, the erroneous meatballs I received yesterday from Artizone [see my last post] were REPULSIVE. For the outrageous price of $12, the vendor — who deserves to be FLOGGED — gives you eight spongy little one-inch meatballs floating in a a puddle of cheap pasta sauce. If I actually had to pay for that crap I would’ve demanded my money back. Even half a cup of parmesan cheese didn’t help.

The true story of missing meatloaf and a tin of complimentary fuck-up potatoes.

This turned out to be not such a hot day, Artizone-wise. They delivered my food order [see previous post] right on time, just like always, except today was fraught with disaster. I’ll back up and start at the beginning so you’ll know what’s what, okay?

The best cheap and perfect snack combo ever invented.

I apologize for not writing a Howdygram post yesterday but I was asleep in the family room all day, resulting from two nights of severe insomnia and outrageously shitty knee pain due to not getting any rest whatsoever. I am presently feeling much better, although please note it’s 5:15 a.m. and I might force myself to go back to bed with very little advance notice. (If I suddenly stop typing you’ll know why.)

I hate Randy Weber and I hate his stupid ass-face.

Tuesday was an odd yet mostly uneventful day here at Howdygram headquarters. Sam had a doctor appointment first thing in the morning — during which he was diagnosed with the final throes of a mysterious flu-ish virus and a rather severe case of stress — followed by a quick trip to our local Wal-Mart Neighborhood Market for a short list of urgent provisions that included two prescriptions for yours truly, English muffins, sugar-free Jell-O cups in our favorite fruity flavors and teeny bottles of Coke Zero for my mini-fridge in the study. I also wanted braunschweiger but they didn’t have any. I am, as expected, fucking despondent.

The state of Texas is overrun with elected shitheads.

In case you believe that insomniacs like yours truly lead an inspirational secret life, at four o’clock in the morning there’s absolutely nothing to do except sit at my desk in the study with the Howdygram and a teeny bottle of diet Mountain Dew. Also a thermometer due waking up for no reason about 15 minutes ago and I don’t think I feel well. There’s nothing for you to worry about, however, because I don’t feel well at least once a day.

Yes, people, we’re a multi-thermometer family.

It’s 5:30 Monday afternoon and I’d like to send my best wishes from Howdygram headquarters, where Sam has been certifiably not conscious in the family room since we finished lunch at 11:30 this morning. He’s still pretty damn sick with whatever he caught in California last week — today is Day Six already — and this morning his temperature was 95.8°, which we checked twice with different thermometers. (Yes, people, we’re a multi-thermometer family.) I just hope Sam wakes up in time for his doctor appointment tomorrow morning.

Marcy’s Law: Every new purchase immediately deserves another to keep it company.

He’s here, people. Sam got home from California last night around dinner-time — sick, clammy and exhausted after a draining day of travel. Airports are shitty enough when you’re healthy; add flu and a fever to the agenda and you’re a guaranteed wreck. Sam stayed home from work today and I’m guessing he might be home for the rest of the week. Keep an eye on the Howdygram for occasional health updates. Thank you.

World-famous psychopath George Zimmerman was in the news again last week.

It’s just past midnight on Sunday morning, there’s a cold steady rain outside and I’ve got a huge announcement: SAM IS COMING HOME TODAY! He’s been in Los Angeles since January 2 for my mother-in-law’s funeral and stayed the whole week to spend time with his siblings. He’s also been sick and bedridden since Wednesday with a miserable flu-ish virus and finally started eating a few things again on Saturday. I know he can’t wait to jump into his own bed with his own pillow. THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE CRAP. The red star on the following map denotes Howdygram headquarters. If you zoom in I’m the attractive senior citizen eating a sugar-free Russell Stover marshmallow Santa.

Mitt Romney is considering a third attempt to flip-flop his way into the White House.

I know your winter weather is probably shittier than ours in Texas, but we’ve got cold steady rain on the way tonight and most of the day tomorrow ... and cold steady rain SUCKS in the aches-and-pains department. Weather.com thinks we also have a chance for ice accumulation overnight but I don’t believe it because the temperature isn’t supposed to drop below 35°. None of this really matters, however. I’m not leaving the house NO MATTER WHAT and Sam — who’s still in California and still really sick — will take a Super Shuttle home from the airport tomorrow afternoon provided he’s well enough to travel. (I’ll believe it when I see it.)

Somebody should tell Sam to eat a bagel.

It’s been more than seven hours since I’ve heard from Sam and I’m definitely scared. He’s sick, people. REALLY, REALLY SICK. I don’t think he’s been out of bed for two days except to pee — which is wishful thinking on my part — and I’m pretty sure he’s not eating anything, either. The only “up” side, if there is one: Sam will be home tomorrow (Sunday) and already has a Tuesday morning appointment with Dr. M for a routine checkup, so if he’s not any better by then maybe she can prescribe something and tell him to have a bagel.

I need to jump in the shower because I’m freezing to death again. No, you can’t watch.

I was rattled out of bed way too early again this morning with hypoglycemia. If you’re into details, my blood sugar was at 52 — and that’s PRETTY DAMN LOW — so I’m parked at my desk with a bottle of Wal-Mart store brand glucose thingies (fruit punch flavor; my favorite) and thinking about how much I’d rather be in bed. Since it’s already 8 a.m., however, I might hang out here for a little while in case Sam calls on Face Time because he’s REALLY REALLY SICK, he’s still in California and I want to make sure somebody’s taking care of him.

TCM is spotlighting Neil Simon in January.

It’s 2:30 a.m., I’m freezing to death and as soon as I wrap up this Howdygram post I’m going straight to bed because IT’S REALLY WARM IN THERE. Two nights ago I added a second blanket and it’s making a huge difference. I don’t wake up as often, I don’t wake up shivering and I don’t have to pee every 60 minutes. This is definitely a win-win. Also, I actually feel RESTED for a change.

There’s good news and bad news today at Howdygram headquarters.

The GOOD NEWS first: I THINK I FINALLY GOT ENOUGH SLEEP. In case you’re interested, I slept until 7 this morning, went back to bed at 9:30, slept again until 1:15, ate lunch, stretched out on the chaise in the family room at 2 and slept again until 5:15. I feel ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE, which is Marcy-speak for “considerably less rotten than yesterday.”

It’s sixteen fucking degrees outside.

Let’s talk Thursday, shall we? It’s 8 a.m. here at Howdygram headquarters and the temperature outside is SIXTEEN FUCKING DEGREES. It’s so cold I wouldn’t even open the front door if somebody delivered Chinese food! And although that might be a massive exaggeration, to keep it all in perspective I’d like to share this photo of Chicago, where it’s substantially below zero this morning and THE WAVES ON LAKE MICHIGAN ARE FROZEN SOLID. Holy crap.

Happy birthday Elvis! Woo hoo!

You know when you don’t feel well how everything you do tends to get REALLY FUCKED UP? That sentence just described my Wednesday PERFECTLY. If you’ll review my last post for reference, I was expecting our Schwan’s delivery doofus this morning at 11:15 because he’s been dropping off our biweekly order of frozen whatnots at 11:15 for more than three years and never varied from this schedule EVEN ONCE. Until today, of course! Today, because I was so goddamn exhausted from zero sleep I could barely stand on my own two crappy feet, GARY WAS AN HOUR AND A HALF LATE. Not only did I have to shelve my nap, I also had to postpone lunch due to not being able to inject insulin if there was a chance the doorbell would ring and I wouldn’t have time to eat, so my soup turned into a pot full of pasty cold sludge, my blood sugar got low (again) and I had a splitting headache from PRACTICALLY STARVING TO DEATH.

I wish somebody would come over as soon as possible to empty the trash for me.

Here, in neat, well-ordered paragraphs, is a comprehensive list of every fun activity that’s on tap today at Howdygram headquarters. Thank you for putting up with me.

If Texas wants an official state hat, we also deserve an official state jackass.

While I spend the balance of my week hacking away at the World’s Largest Meatloaf I’d also like to address a momentous news story belching forth today from the heart of the Lone Star State. Specifically, a local lawmaker has filed a bill to make cowboy hats THE OFFICIAL STATE HAT. State Representative Marsha Farney, a Republican from Burnet, Texas, filed the bill on Monday.

Three huge news stories featuring skanks, food and weather.

Yo from Texas. I’ve got THREE HUGE NEWS STORIES to share with y’all today, so grab yourself a Marcytini and a couple of sugar-free Russell Stover marshmallow Santas and get comfortable!

Howdygram confidential: Here’s what’s happening today.

It’s 9:30 Monday morning, and my darling mother-in-law Belle will be laid to rest today at Mount Sinai Memorial Park in the Hollywood Hills. Sam, who’s representing both of us, has been in California with his brothers and sisters since Friday and will deliver part of the eulogy. Here’s Sam’s favorite picture of his mom, probably taken in the early 1970s. (I just uploaded the same photo to mom’s funeral notice page on Mount Sinai’s website.) Mom died in her sleep early New Year’s Day. She was 82.

Maybe I could try knitting pot holders for fun and profit.

I greet you from the bowels of Howdygram headquarters, where I’m doing my best to spring back to life from the longest nap since Rip Van Fucking Winkle. After being jolted awake again this morning with a raging case of hypoglycemia — and barely two stinking hours of sleep — I conked myself out in the family room at 9:45, slept until 3:30, hauled myself straight into bed and slept another 90 minutes. That’s MORE THAN SEVEN HOURS, people! At this point my schedule is so insanely convoluted that I think I’ll just give up and look for a work-at-home graveyard shift job for insomniac senior citizens who eat marshmallow Santas. Maybe I could try knitting pot holders for fun and profit.

The Dallas Cowboys have achieved a temporary level of semi-greatness that deserves to be enjoyed with a lot of pizza.

A couple of hours ago I was stretched out on the chaise in the family room for a lovely late-night nap when I got sidetracked by an incoming call from Sam, which I missed due to not being able to drag my ass to the phone in time. When I called back maybe 90 seconds later he’d already silenced his iPhone and gone to bed. Therefore Sam is asleep and I’m wide awake. Welcome to my cockeyed world. Damn.

My big Saturday night hoo-hah includes a hot shower, a volume of food and movies.

Following a hypoglycemic episode this morning that jolted me out of a sound sleep I decided to kill a little time by ordering a bunch of excellent food from Artizone, a local virtual gourmet farmer’s market WITH HOME DELIVERY. I ordered all of the following from various vendors: 1) a pound of pimiento cheese; 2) four gorgeous stuffed peppers with red sauce; 3) a turkey meatloaf with spicy things in it; and 4) a cheesy stuffed baked potato. Incidentally, with regard to that last item, I’m a firm believer in the following basic medical principle: IF YOU INJECT ENOUGH INSULIN YOU CAN EAT DAMN NEAR ANYTHING.

My jar of red pepper flakes disappeared.

Hi, people. It’s 3:30 in the morning and I have no idea why I’m sitting at my desk. I went to bed at midnight EXHAUSTED and woke up for no reason whatsoever three hours later. Or it could have been the huge thunderstorms that rolled through here all night with buckets of torrential rain. (Definitely NOT typical January weather for north Texas.) For your possible interest I’ll post a current snapshot from Weather.com; the red star denotes Howdygram headquarters. (Don’t bother zooming in; I don’t feel much like waving right now.)

Sam has only been gone for six hours and I already hate this very much.

Boy, what a day. Sam is on his way to Los Angeles for his mother’s funeral as I write this post, but from the minute we woke up this morning at 7 — actually, HE woke up; I never went to sleep — it was nonstop pandemonium in Howdygramland trying to reschedule all the last-minute travel arrangements we made for him last night before bed. For those of you might give a crap, here’s the basic timeline.

It can only be uphill from here, right?

By 11:30 this morning Sam figured it was safe (late enough) to call his relatives on the west coast to wish everybody a happy new year. He started with his adorable little mom, as he always did, at her assisted living apartment in Sherman Oaks, California, except a stranger answered her phone, and when Sam asked to speak to mom, the stranger — a nurse — told him MOM HAD JUST DIED IN HER SLEEP.

We’ve got freezing rain moving across our area right now.

Going to bed at 2 a.m. sounded like the right thing to do but turned out to not be such a hot idea. I guess I wasn’t tired enough, thrashed around for about 40 minutes and then migrated back into the study. It’s 4:15 and here I am. Lucky you.

I hope 2015 is wonderful for you.

Sam is conked out in the family room watching In the Good Old Summertime (1949) starring Judy Garland and Van Johnson, there are celebration firecrackers — or maybe gunshots, since this is Texas after all — popping somewhere in the distance, but I couldn’t go to bed tonight without first saying THIS to each and every one of you.