Captain Parmenter died on Saturday.

Happy Sunday night from Texas. y’all. I’ve had a mostly-abyssmal day that included: 1) relentless burning pain from the world’s shittiest urinary tract infection; 2) a panic attack; 3) getting very sweaty for no reason; and 4) not enough to eat even though Sam let me have a slice of his private apple pie. (Yes, he has private apple pies!)

Thanksgiving is meaningless for us now as a “foodie” holiday. Blintzes, anyone?

Know what’s really fucked-up? I was just online Googling random shit in the middle of the night and decided to click a link to a website about the early warning signs of Multiple Sclerosis. Incidentally … NEVER DO THIS, dear readers, because you’ll always find a way to convince yourself that you’ve got whatever deadly disease — and designer drug — they’re selling today.

I’ve been dicking around with the Howdygram again.

So here’s what’s going on around here, organized in neat little subtitled paragraphs because I’m compulsive about things like this.

Strange holiday gift ideas from the weirdos at Wayfair.

So what’s the big news from Howdygram headquarters? It’s 11:52 p.m. on the first night of Hanukkah, and in lieu of latkes I’m humming a rousing chorus of “Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel” and eating an Idahoan instant mashed potato cup. (Shut up. It’s the best I can do.) Here’s wishing y’all a happy, happy Hanukkah from Sam and me and the entire staff of Howdygram headquarters. (Okay, both of us.)

Yup, it’s still raining here.

It’s 11 p.m. on a really wet Friday night, and here are the top stories from Howdygram headquarters!

Happy Hanukkah to you and yours.

First of all, Happy Hanukkah to you and yours from ABSOLUTELY EVERYBODY at Howdygram headquarters. This would include: 1) me; 2) Sam; and 3) I think that’s it. May your holiday be filled with latkes and applesauce!

A nicely-written timeline of Wednesday, November 12. Hang on for the wild ride.

We’ve got a very cold, very overcast, VERY windy afternoon here in north Texas. Specifically, it’s 39° with the wind gusting to 38 m.p.h., creating a totally perfect reason to hibernate with a nice big plate of kishka, Russell Stover sugar-free marshmallow Santas and Torch Song, the 1953  “cult” classic starring Joan Crawford as a desperate, ball-busting, middle-aged Broadway star with an outrageous Technicolor wardrobe who chews scenery and stomps her way through musical numbers like a Clydesdale in fishnet stockings. If you think I’m kidding, check out this video. It’s Joan — in blackface, if you can believe it — with her voice dubbed by India Adams. (Too bad you can’t dub that atrocious dancing.)

I’m requesting a motorized chaise lounge on wheels for Hanukkah this year.

I knew it was just a matter of time. Last night I got a frantic phone call from one of my ex-clients who’s having a brain hemorrhage from the shitty customer service at Web.com, the miserable company that continued hosting her website after I retired a few months ago. Web.com apparently never credited her September hosting payment, shut down her website and email, and now they’re demanding a password in order to reinstate her service ... except NOBODY EVER ASKED HER TO SET A PASSWORD when we transferred her account back in June. Since I no longer have any connection whatsoever to Web.com — thank God! — I really didn’t know what to suggest, so I decided to give her my old administrator password and told her to give it a shot. I  have no idea if this actually worked or not but I seriously don’t give a crap. I’M RETIRED, DAMN IT. I’M NEVER ANSWERING THE PHONE AGAIN FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.

Emergency underpants and Hanukkah suggestions.

In case you’re interested in buying me some useful presents this year for Hanukkah I’d be very pleased to receive new knees, new feet and a new pancreas due to arthritis, peripheral neuropathy and diabetes, respectively. The first day of Hanukkah is December 16 so there’s more than enough time to start Googling replacement body parts. (Amazon would have the best prices but I don’t know if they carry knees.) Thank you in advance for your generosity.