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.)