Ryan Bundy, the eldest son of Cliven, is a modern-day “Joe Danby” and a certified idiot.

Ah, Saturday! I just woke up from a glorious seven-hour nap (details to follow) followed by a nice, hot shower ... and Sam is at Wal-Mart buying cole slaw and potato salad. Life doesn’t get much better than this, does it?!

There’s no such thing as too many fonts.

Good morning from the Howdygram. It’s 6 a.m. and I woke up about 90 minutes ago with a bladder emergency. The problem is, I don’t move very fast any more and by the time my brain sends out a signal that IT’S TIME TO PISH IMMEDIATELY I’m still sitting on the chaise trying to get my slippers on. Therefore, without actually saying what I’m trying not to say, a housebound senior citizen with mobility issues like yours truly can’t make it to the bathroom in a situation like this and leaves a puddle somewhere that it’s not supposed to be. And then I get depressed about it.

Unless your grandfather was an actual farmer I don’t really understand the appeal of a barnyard wedding.

I wanted to write a Howdygram post yesterday but I was overwhelmed by many other things to do. These included: 1) designing two dozen very classsy coffee mugs for The Howdygram Store; 2) napping; 3) watching half of “Deadliest Catch” with Sam because we both fell asleep; and 4) I can’t think of anything else.

Russian graphic designers and insane Siberian clip art.

Hi-de-ho from my house to yours, boys and girls! It’s 3:30 Tuesday morning and I just woke up from a truly pleasant, FIVE-HOUR after-dinner nap in the family room. Holy mother of crap. I just realized that I probably won’t be able to go back to sleep until sun-up because now I’m getting comfortable at my desk, taking handfuls of pills and kibbitzing with you. I LOVE MY DRUGS. (No, seriously. I really do.)

My left foot hurts when I walk, talk, pish and breathe. It even hurts when I eat.

This was one of the worst weekends EVER for me, pain-wise. I don’t usually start two back-to-back posts with the same section and graphic, but this time I had no other choice. Mostly I think I’m having a severe neuropathy attack — does something like this even exist? — which has made me FUCKING MISERABLE. It’s my left foot, primarily: 1) two screaming toes; 2) the arch of my foot; and 3) the entire heel, all to the extent that it hurts when I sit, it hurts when I stand, and it hurts when I walk, talk, pish and breathe. And holy shit, it even hurts when I eat!

Screaming toes are ruining my life.

It’s 7:45 Thursday morning, and I’m already having another nasty pain day today as evidenced by my official Shit-O-Meter readout (see below). The current problem is HEEL PAIN and SCREAMING TOES due to diabetic peripheral neuropathy in my left foot. If you already have miserable neuropathy pain sitting down, try to imagine what this shit feels like when you stand up and walk! I’m taking extra pain pills whenever nobody’s looking. (Kindly keep your mouth shut about this. Thank you.)

Three fucking accidents on I-30 and no rotisserie chickens.

That was one hell of a nap, people. FIVE HOURS. And for a change nothing woke me up ... NOTHING, not even FedEx ringing the doorbell with a package from Wal-Mart or a goddamn birding tweeting under the arbor on our patio. God bless naps! GOD BLESS RETIREMENT!

Unfortunately, I’m a housebound coot who can’t stand up any more to cook things.

Hi-de-ho, boys and girls! It’s 10 o’clock Thursday morning, Sam’s at work and I’m at my desk in the study noshing on Bugles, a Diet Sunkist and the last sugar-free fried pie leftover from Sunday. Stop laughing. I’ve always been into health food.

Breakfast fantasies and breaking news.

Yo. I feel pain-free and well-rested right now following a six-hour nap in the family room and a tasty, symmetrically-appealing dinner whipped together by Sam when he got home from work. This included two Costco pre-cooked Angus hamburger patties — with real melted American cheese! — flanked by teeny scoops of potato salad. Oy. Heaven.

Hey ... did you miss me?

I apologize sincerely if you’ve been hanging out in cyberspace, depressed, despondent and desperately waiting for my next Howdygram post. The fact is, I got caught up in a variety of other activities that required my attention but didn’t involve typing, which I’ll list for you below in neat, subtitled paragraphs. (I have a fondness for neat, subtitled paragraphs.) Thank you.

Please do your best to remember the Alamo.

I sure picked a hell of a day [see earlier post] to stop looking at news websites, didn’t I? In my desperate effort to stop reading stories about the bullshit Republican Party, and looking at pictures of their bullshit candidate, Donald Trump, it’s 5:30 Friday morning and I just now found out about yesterday’s terrorist attack in Nice, France. Apparently a card-carrying maniac in a rented truck killed 84 people at a seaside Bastille Day fireworks display.

Happy belated birthday, Herbie.

Yesterday would have been my father’s 96th birthday. I didn’t forget to mention it in my last post ... I just refused to deal with the grief that I only have three pictures of him — THREE! — all of which I’ve published before and I didn’t know if I wanted to bore you again with the same ones. Incidentally, if you want to know why I’m in this predicament it’s because my mother — a few years before she died and for reasons only known to her — THREW OUT EVERY FAMILY PHOTO THAT EVER EXISTED. Family vacations, my cousins’ bar mitzvahs, my grandparents, school events, my parents’ baby pictures, all of my baby pictures, you name it, they’re gone. And I didn’t find out until a month or two after mom passed away last year, when I asked my sister how we should divvy up all the family photos ... and she hit me with the truth bomb instead. I still cry every time I think about this. Even from the grave mom made me feel like garbage.

I deserve a Chipotle burrito for dinner tonight.

Know what? I’m a nervous wreck and I’M SICK TO DEATH OF POLITICS. For the last 48 hours I’ve been unsubscribing from email lists and backing away from national news websites. I don’t want to read any more about Donald Trump’s asshole V.P. picks, his feuds, his idiotic conspiracy theories and his stupid fucking rampages on Twitter. No kidding, I’M DONE WITH THIS. And I don’t want any local news in the Howdygram, either, unless it’s some home-grown bullshit here in Texas involving a fight at the Waffle House or a couple of Einsteins trying to drive off with a Wells Fargo ATM machine.

I’ll be glad to show you a substantial puddle in the front foyer that I created unexpectedly about half an hour ago.

It’s the crack of 3 a.m. and I woke up from my after-dinner nap about 45 minutes ago. I’m still tired and I’m having a very hard time keeping my eyes open, but most of the problem might be that I’m running a THREE-DEGREE FEVER — it’s 99.8°; “normal” for me is 97° — with body aches, stiff knees, chills and, once again, ZERO BLADDER CONTROL. If you don’t believe me I’ll be glad to show you a substantial puddle in the front foyer that I created unexpectedly about half an hour ago.

Where the hell is Robert Osborne?

Yo, people. In case you’re wondering how come I didn’t write any Howdygram posts all weekend it’s because I just didn’t feel like it. Also: 1) I was busy downloading more free fonts; 2) I napped more than usual; 3) Sam needed my help with a few issues; and 4) by the time I got done with items one, two and three I was too drained to do anything except design a new line of children’s lunch boxes for The Howdygram Store. A sample lunch box appears below for your possible interest. My new children’s collection includes cute beach birds, anime cartoons of boys and girls floating around with balloons, smiling jungle animals and more. All of them are personalized.

Republicans are having a lot of nervous breakdowns.

Oy. By now everybody has seen the news from Dallas ... 11 police officers were shot ambush-style — and five are dead! — after snipers opened fire on them tonight during a Black Lives Matter march downtown protesting the recent police murders of two more black men, Alton Sterling and Philando Castile. THIS IS JUST TOO MUCH. And now it’s close to home! Although I’m safely ensconced (and housebound) at Howdygram headquarters with an abundance of canned ravioli and “Columbo” reruns, Sam works in the city not too far from where all this sniper shit went down ... and I’m NOT HAPPY that he has to be in the office at 6:30 a.m. tomorrow when it’s still dark outside and the streets may still be blocked off. The following map indicates: A) Howdygram headquarters; B) the location of tonight’s police shootings in downtown Dallas; and C) where Sam works. Last time I checked the local news there were bomb squads “sweeping” all the downtown parking garages for explosives!

The Howdygram’s official Clots “R” Us Do-It-Yourself Blood Clot Clinic is open for business.

Good Thursday morning, boys and girls! It’s 6 a.m., Sam just left for work and I have nothing special planned for the rest of the day except for: 1) writing this post; 2) injecting insulin and taking piles of pills; 3) working on new designs for coffee mugs and can coolers for The Howdygram Store; 4) hunting for free fonts; and 5) testing my INR (blood clotting speed) with a finger-stabby thing and emailing the results to Dr. M.

This week’s “do” list and other silly baloney.

I seriously thought I wanted to spend all day designing can coolers for The Howdygram Store but an uncontrollable urge to type things commandeered my brain ... SO HERE I AM!

Heartfelt thanks to the lying sacks of poo at Weather.com.

Hi. It’s 11:30 Monday night and Sam is already in bed due to starting tomorrow he’ll be working FIRST SHIFT for the first time in 25 years. My schedule will be completely screwed but I’ll do my damndest to sleep when Sam sleeps and be awake when he leaves in the morning. Cross your fingers, though. It may take a while to ease into this shit. Meanwhile ... we’ve got SCARY SEVERE THUNDERSTORMS rolling through here right now with winds in excess of 60 m.p.h. and heavy rain pounding against the windows ... even though NOTHING WHATSOEVER was in the forecast! Our heartfelt thanks to the lying sacks of poo at Weather.com.

Happy Fourth to you and yours.

It’s 4 a.m. and I’m completely upside-down. I should probably get some sleep now instead of starting a Howdygram post, but this is a classic example of my critical thinking skills. The body says “sleep” but the brain says “keep typing, idiot.” So ... onward!

I always keep a handy-dandy canister of Manischewitz matzo farfel on my desk.

Happy Friday night to you and yours! I thought I’d write another blog post due to having plenty of free time AND WHY THE HELL NOT?! For the moment this is more fun than uploading lunch box designs to The Howdygram Store ... plus I’m still eating my dinner and don’t really need another nap yet.

My morning meds turned me into a groggy zombie today with floaty arms and double vision.

Good morning, people. It’s not quite 9 a.m., I just finished a couple of rock-hard Jimmy Dean sausage biscuits (definitely my fault; I nuked them too long) and I’m pleased to report that my morning meds turned me into a groggy zombie today with floaty arms and double vision. This feels GODDAMN FABULOUS and I highly recommend the drug combination listed below.