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.