Anti-tyranny Texans want deep fryers and soda machines back in public schools.

Holy crap, it’s Thursday! The highlights of my day so far have included: 1) a four-hour nap on the chaise from 7 a.m. until lunch-time; 2) eating Costco teeny tacos with Sam; 3) another four-hour nap from 3:15 until 8:30 tonight; and 4) I can’t think of anything else. (Seriously ... I can’t.) I guess I was exceptionally tired today as there’s no other explanation for spending eight hours on the chaise. Just another milestone from A Retiree’s World of Meaningless Accomplishments.

What the hell was that noise?

I started writing this post at least four times today but didn’t get very far. Don’t be mad at me, okay? Crap happens! But to give you a rough idea what kind of day it’s been at Howdygram headquarters it’s my pleasure to provide the following complete rundown. Pour yourself a Marcytini, get comfortable and thank you.

Meet Kevin Calvey, an unhinged Republican state representative from Oklahoma.

Shalom, hi-de-ho and good afternoon to you and yours! I’m recovering from a juicy four-hour nap — FOUR HOURS! SERIOUSLY! — on the chaise in the family room and figured the best way to snap back to reality is to write a nice Howdygram post. So here I am with limber fingers, a tall Marcytini and plenty of words. I hope you’re having a very swell Tuesday.

I love my nuke-able bowls of Chef Boyardee fetal ravioli.

Holy crap. There’s so much to write about today I almost don’t know where to start! Maybe I’ll try organizing my thoughts into convenient subtitled paragraphs BECAUSE THIS IS MY BLOG AND I WANT TO.

We have a twister watch with basketball-size hail and a 70% chance of flying monkeys.

Hi, guys. It’s already Sunday night and I’ve been trying, in one way or another, to write this Howdygram post since sometime before breakfast. I’m not exactly sure what’s been holding me back aside from disinterest, lack of motivation, running out of ideas and a powerful proclivity for naps. In any event, here I am at last. All yours!

Lieutenant Governor Dan Patrick is a God-botherer who lives in a very dark and dreadful world.

It’s 5:30 in the morning and I’ve been awake since 4, although I’m pretty sure this is no big deal to you in any way whatsoever. Never mind, okay? Let’s do a Putz of the Week instead!

Thunderstorms are attacking Howdygram headquarters.

Today’s the BIG DAY, people. Today’s the day ABC airs Diane Sawyer’s special two-hour exposé about Bruce Jenner to discover the SECRET TRUTH about his long hair, poofy lips, French manicures and JIGGLY NEW BOOBIES! Check your local listings; here in Dallas the interview airs at 8 p.m. and I know you won’t want to miss it.

Do we look like we just fell off a turnip truck?

It’s 4:45 p.m. and so far I’ve survived Triple Whammy Thursday with no additional whammies to report at this time, thank God. My temperature is holding steady at 99° (I can live with it) so I’ve been amusing myself with cart-stuffing at a few of my favorite web stores as I plan to redecorate the kitchen after we have our cabinets refaced. This will include a large black kitchen étagère that measures 74" by 48" by 18" and a number of excellent black wicker storage bins in assorted sizes. I LOVE THIS STUFF. (It’s all from Wal-Mart because the prices on Amazon were higher.)

It’s Triple Whammy Thursday at Howdygram headquarters.

Welcome to Triple Whammy Thursday at Howdygram headquarters, where the world’s best blogger (me) has been dealing with a lot of serious crapola this morning. And here’s my list for your possible interest.

We’re expecting seriously severe weather tonight due to fast-moving frontal things.

Shalom and howdy-do from the vast expanse of north Texas, where we’re expecting SERIOUSLY SEVERE WEATHER tonight due to fast-moving frontal things, cold air aloft, stalled downdrafts, anxious hailstones of monumental proportions and other fancy-ass meteorological concepts in which I am not well-versed. But it’s all on the way, people. Trust me.

Happy Birthday Queen Elizabeth.

Holy crap, guys ... I completely forgot to announce a very important birthday today in case you’re looking for a reason to eat cake! The Howdygram would like to send its very best wishes to Queen Elizabeth — the number one royal of them all — who’s celebrating her 89th birthday. I’ll bet she and Prince Phil ordered a few caviar pizzas tonight for the kids and grandchildren. (Tiaras optional.)

Blue Bell Creameries takes an “unprecedented step” and refuses to continue selling poisoned ice cream.

Hi, people. Welcome to Tuesday morning at Howdygram headquarters, where I’m attempting to deal with heavily overcast skies, severe pain in my left knee and the following tragic news: A TOTAL WORLDWIDE RECALL OF BLUE BELL ICE CREAM.

Sam is so goddamn adorable I want to eat him on a bagel.

I always enjoy the promise of a shiny new day, especially when I felt like COMPLETE TOTAL CRAP when I went to bed the night before. It must be something about end-of-the-day fatigue that makes the pain in my body exponentially worse. Every night without fail I drag myself from the family room to the bedroom whining, crying, dizzy, slightly nauseated, out of breath and scaring the bejeezus out of Sam who, I must admit, has finally figured out how to cope with this quite well. Instead of trying to help me (which he really can’t) he stands a few feet ahead of me barking encouragement like a middle school football coach, such as YOU’RE ALMOST THERE! YOU CAN DO IT! GREAT JOB! ONLY A FEW MORE STEPS TO GO! Sam is so goddamn adorable I want to eat him on a bagel.

I don’t care if Florida sinks and I don’t give a shit about spotted owls.

Good morning, shalom, pass the soy sauce and how’s the family! We survived a night of wild storms here at Howdygram headquarters that included an awesome feast from King China accompanied by heavy rain, thunder, lightning and powerful swooshy wind with no basketball-size hail. (Thank God for no hail. Nobody needs hail.) To celebrate the day after another crazy Texas storm I would like to post all of the important events currently filling my agenda. In case you give a crap.

Last time I went to a baseball game Oscar Mayer Smokie Links were 35¢ each and Cokes were a quarter.

When it rains around here it really POURS ... and I’m not talking about the four-hour line of intense thunderstorms that blasted through here last night. (In case you’re interested, no, we did NOT get any basketball-size hail.) Actually, I’m referring to REMODELING PROJECTS here at Howdygram headquarters. While we’re still waiting for our second estimate for kitchen cabinet refacing — a project that will probably cost about $8,500 with all the cool extra doo-dads we decided to throw in — I realized last night that the shower in our master bathroom is having leak and grout issues again.

Senior citizens can be excellent multi-taskers when necessary.

I want to apologize to Sam in giant type for scaring the living crap out him this afternoon.

Today’s intense pain requires a large volume of Chinese food and a Shit-O-Meter update.

Because my day has been a never-ending bombardment of excitement, decisions, leftovers, crappy naps and missing weather I thought it might be fun to take an in-depth look at Thursday so you’ll know what the hell I’m talking about.

A handy-dandy walker tray lets rickety senior citizens transport their food.

Yo from Howdygram headquarters. I’ve got a couple of hot stories to share with y’all this afternoon so I guess I’d better get started!

Dumbo takes a gulp.

I meant to include this Putz of the Week in last night’s Howdygram post but I wound up a little too zoned-out on my prescription painkiller (God bless Norco!) and crawled into bed instead. For three hours.

Sam has a nervous breakdown whenever he sees me eating out of a can.

There are TWO HUGE NEWS STORIES today from Howdygram headquarters. If this interests you, please continue reading immediately.

Nobody really gives a crap about fancy-ass oil-rubbed bronze drawer pulls.

And so it begins! The Howdygram’s 2015 Kitchen Cabinet Remodeling Hoo-Hah will commence Tuesday morning with a visit from a Home Depot design specialist. I’m looking for a dark wood veneeer finish (right now we have maple) with the addition of a corner storage unit because you can never have too many shelves for your Hormel canned tamales. However, Sam thinks we should skip the cabinet hardware because nobody really gives a crap about fancy-ass oil-rubbed bronze drawer pulls or brushed nickel knobs. And they would probably wind up costing a million dollars, anyway.

Aaron Schock, the hot male nipple-having former congressman from Illinois, has been told to “pay up.”

Yo everybody. It’s 6:29 Sunday morning, Sam is asleep, I wish I had a can of Chef Boyardee Beef Ravioli and I THINK I’M STONED. God bless prescription painkillers! I took one at 5 a.m. when I woke up; I’m due for another at 9.

Tweaks, fonts, walker accessories and an overabundance of low-carb pasta rice.

Friday was HOWDYGRAM TWEAK DAY around here, which explains why I was so damn busy achieving a bunch of design updates that I didn’t have time to publish an actual post. My split personality as a Retired Graphic Design Person Who Takes as Lot of Naps popped out a little while ago and pestered me into making a variety of minor and altogether pointless changes to the Howdygram for no reason whatsoever. As illustrated below, these include a new font (Berthold Block Extra Condensed) for the banner, the sidebar titles, the navigation buttons, the copyright block at the bottom of the right column and the Putz of the Week ribbon. (I also increased the size of the post titles by one stinking point. Good luck noticing that one.)

Barry Manilow revealed today that he gay-married his long-time manager in 2014.

I’ve got all kinds of good news for you this afternoon, so let’s get started, okay? I’ll do my popular subtitled paragraph format to help you keep track of what’s what. Thank you.

Today is the first day of the Masters at Augusta National. If you want to come over I have a lemon pound cake.

It’s 7:30 Thursday morning and I regret to report that I think my shitty mystery fever is back. I’ve been shivering for the last hour and a half and my entire body hurts like I was hit by a city bus. I DON’T NEED THIS, PEOPLE. I’m almost afraid to tell Sam. Don’t blab, okay? I’ll take a bunch of pills and see how I feel in a couple of hours.

The Miserable Exploding Bladder Incident and other senior citizen news.

Howdy, people. It’s 5:45 Wednesday morning and I’m sitting bolt upright at my desk still somewhat freaked-out by a bad event yesterday evening before Sam came home from work. I had a nice nap in bed from 4:30 to 7:45 p.m., and when I woke up I realized I had to pee. Let me phrase this differently for emphasis: I THOUGHT MY BLADDER WAS GOING TO EXPLODE. So I put on my robe, slide into my slippers, shuffle into the master bathroom and BLAMMO, I can’t make it to the toilet and I can’t even make it into the goddamn shower. So I kick my slippers across the room — quite an achievement for a handicapped old broad with a cane — and just let go. All over the floor. Thank God for the gigantic decorative bath towel attractively draped across the side of the tub! I covered my puddle, sat down on a bench and tried to remember when the hell did I turn into such a big, helpless baby. (I’m still working on it.)

I’ve always believed I was raised by wolves in the forest.

I’m going to type this post at tip-top speed because it’s 4:30 a.m. AND I HAVE A MILLION THINGS TO TELL YOU! (Years ago I was clocked at 125 words per minute ... so you’d better hang on.)

Celebrate your infirmities with the nice folks at Amazon.

Yo, earlybirds. It’s 7 a.m. Monday, Sam is asleep and I’m hard at work in the study, purposefully pondering a pip of a pre-dawn purchase from Amazon. (See what I did there?) In summary, I’m considering a two-button fold-up walker with front wheels, a handy-dandy walker basket and a quad-tip cane, all manufactured by Medline and pictured below for your possible interest. I’m EXCITED about this. There must be something wrong with me.

It’s almost time to watch Dorothy and the Scarecrow squirt oil on the Tin Man.

From the nice Jewish couple here at Howdygram headquarters to goyim everywhere ... A VERY HAPPY EASTER TO YOU AND YOURS and may you have a lifetime of chocolate eggs and plenty of fluffy rabbits! (I have no idea what I’m talking about. Is any of this weird crap in the Bible?)

The shitty mystery fever returns.

I lost a whole day yesterday. At 9 a.m. — about an hour after finishing my Thursday Howdygram post — my temperature skyrocketed to 103 and I got attacked by chills, joint and muscle pain and a pounding headache. As a result I dragged myself — wailing in pain and scaring the living crap out of Sam — back and forth from the bathroom to bed for the rest of the day and all night long. A couple of hours ago my shitty mystery fever finally broke and I found myself sprawled out in bed in a puddle of whatever secretes from the pores of a senior citizen in situations like this. Below was yesterday’s Shit-O-Meter report.

The fine citizens of Texas treasure every opportunity to flush our toilets, rinse our dishes and launder our socks.

Good morning, everybody. The time at the tone — BOINNNG! — will be 6:30 a.m. and all’s well here at Howdygram headquarters. We’re expecting a high today of 85° but no rain until Sunday, at which time several consecutive days of rain and thunderstorms are in the forecast ... providing the lying sacks of poo at Weather.com aren’t making it up to look important.

I am deeply fond of Wal-Mart.

Good morning! I’m pleased to report that it’s 6 a.m. and I’m feeling EXCELLENT. Nothing hurts, all the aches and pains I had last night are gone, I’m sufficiently doped-up on my favorite prescription painkiller and as soon as Sam is awake I’ll start pestering him to nuke me a couple of those adorable Jimmy Dean breakfast croissant things he bought this week at Costco because I’m starving.