Sam is a 24/7 caregiver, nurse, chef, vaudeville comic (don’t ask) and launderer.

Yo, people. Welcome to Thursday night at Howdygram headquarters, where Sam is napping on the sofa nearby and I’m wrapped up in a fleece blanket on my hospital bed with a big glass of sugar-free peach soda and a bowl of pitted Greek olives.

“White Cargo” is the sweatiest movie ever made.

Happy Saturday morning from bright and sunshiney Texas. I started my day with a fistful of drugs and a few squirts of FloNase while Sam shuffles in and out of the house doing his springtime weed patrol thing. Just another typical weekend at Howdygram headquarters. I’m not joking.

Happy Pesach to our Jewish friends and relatives.

It’s barely Thursday morning, just a few minutes past 1 a.m., and those “killer thunderstorms” we were expecting 10 hours ago finally decided to roll in. They’re LOUD, and I swear I can hear hailstones … although I’m sure they’re not as big as baseballs because baseballs would make a lot more noise than this. These have to be teeny hailstones, maybe the size of nipples. And in case the lights go out I’ve got some emergency essentials within arm’s reach: 1) a gigantic high-beam flashlight that could double as a lethal weapon; 2) a battery-powered oxygen generator; and 3) a box of Hostess Suzy-Qs. Woo-hoo!

Dark urine is caused by dehydration. I need to drink a lot more water.

It’s just past 8 a.m. and we’ve got another dark and dismal morning here, this time with a dense fog advisory. This doesn’t affect my life in the slightest, though, as I’m a handicapped old coot who never leaves the house … unless it’s the occasional ambulance ride when I’m anxious to pay an unexpected visit to the hospital. All that aside, however, I thought I’d share today’s “do” list with you: 1) contact my nurse practitioner (Antonia) at Baylor HouseCalls to discuss the color of my pee; and 2) I can’t think of anything else.

Remember Bernie Madoff? I hope his teeth fall out the day before Thanksgiving.

It’s Easter Sunday, 2:45 a.m., Sam is asleep and I’m enjoying Hormel Compleats meatloaf and mashed potatoes with tasty brown gravy because my stomach was really empty and Hormel’s little airplane-sized meals are just enough to fill me up in the middle of the night. Personally, I think this is the best variety Hormel makes ... not counting their chili with beans.

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.

Happy Pesach from Sam, Marcy and Moses, y’all.

Please allow me to wish y’all a very happy Passover, okay? Even though Sam and I aren’t especially observant — okay, fine ... we’re not observant AT ALL — Passover has always been one of my favorite Jewish holidays because the whole family can get into the swing of things, such as asking the “four questions,” hiding (and subsequently finding) the matzo, opening the door for Elijah while keeping an eye on the cat, taking turns reading from the Haggadah, chugging wine and so on. Plus you get to eat HORSERADISH AND MACAROONS!

The shitty mystery fever returns.

I lost a whole day yesterday. At 9 a.m. — about an hour after finishing my Thursday Howdygram post — my temperature skyrocketed to 103 and I got attacked by chills, joint and muscle pain and a pounding headache. As a result I dragged myself — wailing in pain and scaring the living crap out of Sam — back and forth from the bathroom to bed for the rest of the day and all night long. A couple of hours ago my shitty mystery fever finally broke and I found myself sprawled out in bed in a puddle of whatever secretes from the pores of a senior citizen in situations like this. Below was yesterday’s Shit-O-Meter report.