Whether you’re planning to dress a gunshot wound or just play “mummy,” gauze bandages are a thoughtful gift.

Eureka, people, last night I finally discovered what’s the number one STRONGEST PAINKILLER IN THE WORLD. And it’s free, it doesn’t have any side effects like unwanted hair growth or diarrhea, you don’t need a prescription and there’s no such thing as an overdose. Give up?

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.)

You can never have too many cold meat forks!

I frequently whine about my pain issues in the Howdygram. It’s unavoidable; there are days when pain completely takes over my life and I can’t focus on anything else except once in a while Cheetos. Last night, however, my misery hit a repulsive new “high” and included all of the following shit: 1) plantar fasciitis in both heels made it fucking impossible to stand up; 2) stabbing pain in both knees; 3) an ache in my right hip; 4) broken and bleeding skin (from pressure ulcers) on the back of both thighs; 5) difficulty breathing; 6) watery eyes; 7) a cramp in my right shoulder and upper arm; and 8) intestinal difficulties bordering on a nuclear holocaust. As a result this was my official Shit-O-Meter reading when I dragged myself to bed last night at 11:30. (Regular Howdygram readers will know that was unusually early for me but I was too damn miserable to stay awake.)

What everybody wants for holiday gift-giving. Overpriced light fixtures!

It’s 4:55 p.m. and Sam is unconscious in the family room after a hectic day that included a hot shower and a muffin. I can’t actually 100% verify that second activity, however, because I was in bed attempting to recover after Sam applied TriDerma Intense Fast-Healing Cream to the back of my thighs and it burned like hell for about 20 minutes. For those of you who’ve been following along with my ongoing “skin issues” ... I have pressure ulcers. FUCK PRESSURE ULCERS! I won’t go into too much detail here in case somebody’s eating breakfast. (You’re welcome.)

Donald Trump the real estate genius has just reinvented concentration camps.

Hi, people. I hope your day is swell so far. It’s 10 a.m., Sam is at Wal-Mart buying assorted tasty crap from a list and I’m hanging out with you and the Howdygram. Also drinking a can of Diet Sunkist soda because sometimes a girl needs faux vitamin C.

Has your wee-wee ever looked like bayou sludge with alligators in it?

BIG FAT NEWS FLASH FOR EVERYBODY: It’s 2:30 Monday morning and I have another Shitty Mystery Fever! I woke up about an hour ago after a brief nap in the family room and BLAMMO ... I was shivering, I had body aches, my joints hurt like hell and I smashed a toe on the corner of our coffee table. (The smashed-toe incident has nothing whatsoever to do with a low-grade fever but I thought I’d throw it in because PAIN.) To cheer myself up I’ve decided to sit here at my desk in the study and entertain you for a while, okay?

I don’t think I should be deprived of Sam’s feet more than two nights in a row.

Well, fuckity fuckity fuck! It’s 7:45 Wednesday night and Sam just called to let me know he’ll be at work again for the third night in a row until 4 o’clock in the morning. I HATE THIS. I want Sam to come home right now to eat snacks, watch a couple of William Powell movies and get some decent sleep. As for moi, I JUST WANT TO PLAY WITH SAM’S FEET. I don’t think that’s too much to ask, do you? I’m a desperate senior citizen with health issues and I don’t think I should be deprived of Sam’s feet more than two nights in a row.

Happy holidays, goddamn it.

Good morning and HAVE A REALLY HAPPY VETERANS DAY to all of you camo-lovers out there in Howdygramland! The only real military veteran I ever knew close-up was my father, who served in World War II. Here he is — looking very adorable at age 23 — in London in 1943 as a lieutenant navigator for the Army Air Corps.

Check out The Ben Carson Shrine to Psychotic Neurosurgeons Who Want to Rule the World.

Good morning, dear readers ... happy Sunday, shalom, what’s new and how’s the family! It’s a cool fall morning here at Howdygram headquarters, and I’m considering a nice toasted low-carb “everything” bagel for breakfast for the following three reasons: 1) I’m hungry; 2) I really like bagels; and 3) you can’t stop me. It’s only 5:57 a.m., however, so I’ll have to wait until Sam wakes up because I’m a senior citizen with mobility difficulties and can’t stand up in the kitchen long enough to tackle the various components of simple food preparation. Seriously.

I’m loaded with fever germs today so why don’t you just drop off a big bag of snacks at the front door.

I hope Thursday is starting off better for YOU than for ME, because I’ve still got that fever hoo-hah going on. It was 101.2° when I woke up this morning at 4:45 to pish, and even though it’s down a little now I still feel like TOTAL CRAP. Other symptoms include no appetite, watery eyes and an overwhelming desire to watch my favorite David Niven movies, which is a good thing because I’ve got several to choose from on our DVR. These include Bachelor Mother (1939) with Ginger Rogers, Please Don’t Eat the Daisies (1960) with Doris Day and Around the World in 80 Days (1956). I’d invite you to come over and watch with me, but I’m loaded with fever germs today so why don’t you just drop off a big bag of snacks at the front door and we’ll call it a day.

This is your last chance to send me a present for my birthday.

This is it, people ... THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO SEND ME A PRESENT FOR MY BIRTHDAY, which is November 1. You’ve got four stinking days left to find a way to put a smile on an old lady’s face. Please review Marcy’s Birthday Wish List and send an email if you need my shipping address. Thank you in advance for your overwhelming generosity.

Gift ideas just in time for Hanukkah.

Greetings and salutations, Howdygramsters! While I sit here digesting a bag of Mountain House freeze-dried entrees for senior citizens and pondering the next phase of my Monday evening activities — a hot shower, cookies and a nap come to mind — I thought I’d produce my second post of the day and kill a little time. You’re welcome.

Wonderful fluffy shit from HSN, just in time for all your Hanukkah shopping!

Once upon a time Sam went to Costco and I stayed home with a bucket of unfolded socks and underpants. (That has to be the best lede sentence I’ve ever written.) In case you’re wondering why I stay home, Sam always goes to Costco alone for the following excellent reasons: 1) it’s faster and cheaper without me; and 2) I’ve got a variety of mobility impairments that make shlepping and shopping difficult, annoying and uncomfortable. Our shopping list today includes chicken flautas, teeny tacos, spicy guacamole cups, Cape Cod chicken salad with smashed cranberries, sliced roast beef for sandwiches, grapefruit cups, and a box of frozen Angus pre-cooked hamburger patties with genuine grill marks.

Hey there, gullible shoppers, Hayneedle is having a “yooge” dining room sale!

Good morning, hi, howdy-do, shalom and how’s the family! I’m deliriously thrilled to report that summer might finally be over here in north Texas, as evidenced by the decidedly non-summery forecast from the meteorology goobers at Weather.com.

Hey, you. I need a toe truck.

You may have missed this breaking news story on CNN, but about an hour ago I began my sleepy Thursday morning with a devastating and thoroughly unanticipated life-threatening injury. I bumped the big toenail on my left foot as I slid into a fluffy memory foam slipper using slightly more velocity that usual and wound up in a scene from M*A*S*H*. It was a fucking BLOODBATH around here, people, and I had to wake Sam to wrap my toe in toilet paper and say nice things to me.

The Little Slobster. Everywhere he goes he leaves a trail of dirt, crud, rust, paint, grease, crumbs, shit and spackle.

Good afternoon, dear readers, and a deliriously happy Wednesday to you and yours! Because I’ve got several million unique and moderately interesting news items to share with you today I’d better begin immediately or else I’ll fall asleep. Thank you for putting up with me.

Texans are ready for fall. Please send some as soon as possible.

Howdy-do from Texas, everybody! It’s another unwelcome and thoroughly unnecessary hot and sticky summer day in the middle of October, which also happens to be our fourth consecutive month with NO FUCKING RAIN. Here’s a look at the week ahead courtesy of Weather.com. Texans are ready for fall. Please send some as soon as possible.

Donald Trump believes that entertainment value and ratings make him the savior of America.

I think it would be swell if South Carolina sent us an inch or two of rain because we haven’t had any measurable precipitation here since the second week of June. And please let me repeat this in case you’re not paying attention: IT HASN’T RAINED HERE SINCE THE SECOND WEEK OF JUNE. The only reason the local authorities still allow us to shower and flush the toilet is because we had a 20-inch deluge back in May that filled the reservoirs. Other than that, we’re fucked. And there’s nothing in the forecast, either, as you’ll note on the following graphic from Weather.com. Summer temperatures, zero rain, lots of sun. We could croak from the boredom here already.

Do not buy your dining room set from a website. You can thank me later.

Hello, and I’ve got EXTREMELY SHOCKING NEWS on this balmy Sunday night at Howdygram headquarters: I HAVE ZERO PAIN WHATSOEVER. I would NOT joke about this! After starting so many posts with annoying chronic pain updates I’m pleased to announce NO PAIN tonight. I’m not sure how long this will last, mind you, but it’s sure nice to know I can get ahead of it now and then. For your possible interest here’s my latest Shit-O-Meter readout.

Just fix my goddamn email and let’s move on.

Hi. It’s almost midnight and I’ve been considering what time I should go to bed. It probably doesn’t matter, though ... I’m always interrupted after four hours for a middle-of-the-night senior citizen bathroom adventure and wind up right here at my desk to horse around with the Howdygram. I guess it’s your lucky day after all!