Sam invented The Million Little Meals Diet Program for Elderly Women Who Can’t Walk Any More.

At some point in our lives everybody has to deal with loss, and for the last couple of years I’ve been dealing with loss in spades. For example, a couple of hours ago I told Sam that I don’t remember how it feels: 1) to walk to the study; 2) to take a shower; 3) to wear clothes or shoes or lipstick; 4) to drive a car … or even ride in one; 5) to feel the wind in my hair; or 6) to live without pain. As a matter of fact, I’m lying on the chaise lounge in the family room — easily the most comfortable spot in the entire house — and I’m squirming around to “adjust” my left leg because the skin on the back of my thigh is burning.

The Fourth of July should only be celebrated on the weekend when people have time.

Hey, boys and girls … I’ve had a busy day! It’s only 2 p.m., and so far I ... 1) woke up at 7:45 a.m. while Sam was still out enjoying his daily walk; 2) consumed my last antibiotic tablet chopped-up in a mound of Cool Whip; 3) took my regular breakfast-time drugs, including extended release Morphine and good ol’ ordinary Norco; 4) printed a Wal-Mart grocery list for Sam, who went to the store as soon as he got home from his walk; and 5) fell back asleep immediately after typing item #4. Holy crap.

Louie Gohmert (R-TX) is a moron, a pussy and a coward. Forgive me if I sound mean, but I will elucidate.

SATURDAY, 11:45 P.M., 6/30/2018. Hi-de-ho, everybody … it’s a hot and sticky Saturday night, and Sam and I are enjoying one of our favorite go-to action movies, The Taking of Pelham One Two Three, the original from 1974 starring Walter Matthau and Robert Shaw. We always love this movie. ALWAYS! Sam is curled up on the sofa and I’m on the chaise with a Popsicle. For the record, I’m seriously under the weather tonight. I haven’t had a repeat of that problem from yesterday when I couldn’t swallow any food, thank God, but my issues tonight are actually just as bad.

Big and little issues, an Einstein Award and another box of no-rinse shampoo caps.

I’ll bet you can’t guess what time it is. Give up? It’s 1:35 in the morning, and I’m wide awake due to a poorly-timed four-hour nap last night. You’re in luck, though, because I’ve decided to murder a couple of hours composing another Howdygram post! Woo-hoo! 

There are two things happening this week at Howdygram headquarters.

Howdy-do, boys and girls. It’s 8:45 p.m., and Sam and I are watching Life Begins for Andy Hardy (1941) starring Mickey Rooney. I guess I was badly in need of a “pick-me-up” tonight after two days feeling like shit with zero appetite. Other than that, life has been totally swell. (I think.) And in case you’re interested, here’s a photo from the aforementioned Andy Hardy movie.

I haven’t worn a brassiere since 2012, but this is basically a secret so please don’t tell anybody.

It’s been a dismal, dark and thunderstormy day ever since we woke up this morning. As a matter of fact, by 6 a.m. Sam was already seated comfortably in the garage with a full pot of coffee and the overhead door open so he could watch a line of storms roll in from the northwest. Now that Sam’s retired it’s particularly rewarding when the neighbors start leaving for work because we don’t have to. We don’t even have to get dressed! As for me, I haven’t worn a brassiere since 2012, but this is basically a secret so please don’t tell anybody.

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?!

Never trust the inmates.

Happy first day of June, boys and girls! I’ve decided to squeeze in this Howdygram post between all the heavy thunderstorms and pounding rain we didn’t get, thanks to the lying sacks of poo at Weather.com who wouldn’t recognize a heavy thunderstorm if it blew into town wearing a goddamn name tag. What a bunch of fucking idiots. When I went to bed last night we were expecting four hours of severe weather starting at 6:45 a.m. — FOUR HOURS! — and we got exactly nothing.

A backwoods halfwit lands in jail, more free fonts and another dead celebrity.

Happy Monday to y’all from the Howdygram! I meant to write this post earlier in the day but got sidetracked by two major projects: 1) I took a shower at 1 p.m.; and 2) I fell asleep on the chaise after completing item one and slept for six fucking hours. SIX HOURS! At the moment it’s 7:48 p.m. and I just started eating dinner — a bowl of Maruchan Extra Spicy Shrimp Noodles with Impossible-to-Read Instructions in Three-Point Type — plus a side order of pills and a can of Diet Sunkist.

I’m ready to weather the storm with a box of teeny tacos and a favorite Myrna Loy movie.

It’s 10:15 Friday morning and Sam is on his way to Costco for a trunkload of our favorite speedy meals. This includes teeny tacos and breakfast burritos (both pictured below), chicken flautas, little tubs of spicy guacamole and instant oatmeal cups. Although I’m pretty sure you don’t give a crap about any of this, Costco is very important to Howdygram headquarters and I, for one, wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I didn’t have teeny tacos in the house. Thank you.

I guess “toilet police” are a thing now.

Hey. Hi. It’s me again. With Sam asleep in the family room I thought I’d get started on today’s Howdygram post because I love this more than anything else on earth not counting Chinese food, a Margaret Rutherford movie and four-hour naps. But not three-hour naps.

You can’t squeeze matzo balls into an iPhone.

Last night we enjoyed our first-ever long-distance Passover seder via Face Time with my bestest friend Sandi and her adorable family in Chicago. Seriously. I highly recommend Face Time seders! Via our Windy City “team,” Howie read the Haggadah, Melissa asked the four questions in lieu of a anybody actually being a young boy, Danielle did all the cooking and everybody drank wine except Sam and me because medications. (We shared a Diet Sunkist instead.) And while we waited for Sandi, her daughters and their beaus to finish Danielle’s amazing repast, I decided to start working on a Howdygram post because I was starving and you can’t squeeze matzo balls into an iPhone.

Patty Duke’s intestine blew up.

I didn’t write a Howdygram post yesterday for one big fat reason: I DON’T KNOW HOW TO BE FUNNY WHEN I FEEL LIKE SHIT. And boy howdy, I definitely felt like shit yesterday. Just about everything hurt. In addition to two hours of intense nausea that started shortly after Sam got home from work last night, I also had pain in my knees, my neck, my right upper arm and shoulder, my left heel, all of the toes on my left foot, leaking pressure sores and raw skin on the back of both thighs ... and I’m constipated. All of these issues thrown together meant I didn’t feel like writing and I definitely couldn’t figure out how to be funny. So I bought myself the following enormous pile of fantastic yet cheap digital backgrounds from Etsy.com so I can create new and better products for The Howdygram Store. Each collection only cost 99¢! Terrific, right?

Mitch McConnell’s grandmother thinks you should elect Democrats in November.

Hello, how’s the family and shalom from my house to yours! It’s 8:57 on a pleasant Friday night, Sam is on his way home from work and I’m getting a late start with this Howdygram post because I got sidetracked by a very long and enjoyable afternoon nap that didn’t technically end until 7:15 p.m., at which time I had eat dinner IMMEDIATELY due to low blood sugar. Other than that, everything here is fucking fabulous.

Suggested drinking game keywords for tonight’s GOP debate include “dick size,” “steaks,” “liar” and “con man.”

Hi. While I wait for my morning medications to kick in I promised myself I wouldn’t begin this Howdygram post with another detailed description of my chronic pain issues, which includes relentless leaking pressure sores on the back of both thighs, a bleeding rash, arthritic knees and diabetic peripheral neuropathy in both goddamn feet. So I won’t mention them, okay?

Only in Texas ... a fistfight, threats and screaming at a gospel radio station.

I really really wanted to write a Howdygram post yesterday but got sidetracked by a large volume of important projects. These included: 1) napping twice; 2) kibbitzing with Sam; 3) spending $45 on takeout from King China in Garland; 4) designing a fuckton of fantastic and adorable new products for The Howdygram Store on Zazzle.com; and 5) I think that’s it. I also watched some wonderful teevee, such as “Keeping Up with the Kardashians” and a favorite “Columbo” rerun, the one where Ruth Gordon is a mystery writer who murders her nephew by locking him in a safe overnight while she flies to New York to accept a humanitarian award.

An ass-slapping Einstein gets arrested in Toledo.

When you’re a retired, disabled, housebound senior citizen with shitty knees and diabetes there are many, many times when you have a lousy day due to chronic pain issues, your body is falling apart and nobody thinks you should take a Norco every 45 minutes. Unfortunately, today is edging into “lousy day” territory for all of the following reasons.

I’m preparing for the “Cheetos Cleanse.”

Good morning from Foggygram headquarters in Fogville, U.S.A.

Okay, okay, just kidding. Howdygram headquarters is still located in the northeast corner of Mesquite, Texas. But if you peek out the window all you’ll see is FOG ... and it’s as thick today as OATMEAL WITH RAISINS!

My doctors are letting me down and I’m not happy.

Shalom to you and yours from my happy little corner of Texas, where four days of relentless rain have turned our region into a gigantic, never-ending auto showroom of submerged vehicles, all driven by yahoos who didn’t realize their freeway underpass was actually 10 feet under water. A smattering of representative photographs appears below for your possible interest. Bottom line: IT’S EXTREMELY WET HERE.

Instant Rice-A-Roni is an unappealing cup of tasteless, floating carbohydrates.

Shalom, yo, how’s the family and happy Saturday night from your friends at Howdygram headquarters! Sam is asleep in the family room watching Stagecoach (1939) starring John Wayne and I’m at my desk in the study trying to decide on something tasty to rehydrate for dinner because the cold leftover Five Guys hot dog that’s been relaxing on the coffee table since 1:45 this afternoon is NOT going to be enough food even with extra onions. (That was the goddamn weirdest lede I’ve ever written. Seriously.)