When you get old nobody really expects very much from you, so why not go ahead and sleep through everything.

Today is day three of Sam and Marcy’s Fancy Shower Adventure, where your favorite housebound senior citizen blogger with shitty knees and a hangnail — i.e., yours truly — achieved world-class status on Wednesday as a remodeling project supervisor. This was another classic example of A Retiree’s World of Meaningless Accomplishments.

In Texas it’s apparently okay to stand up for the rule of law by ignoring the U.S. Constitution.

It’s actually happening, people! Two hard-working and seriously sweaty geniuses from Re-Bath of Dallas were here all day gutting our master bathroom with a jackhammer, making plenty of noise and lots of progress. Today they ripped out our shower, including the shower bench, the shower pan, a shitload of ceramic tiles and all the old plumbing. They also remediated some mold under the bench and behind the wall tiles resulting from a seriously shitty job last summer by Clayton and the grout people, who spent three months trying to fix a problem with discolored baseboards and didn’t realize it was caused by a water leak from the shower. (Idiots.)

Sam & Marcy’s Fancy Shower Adventure starts tomorrow!

Good morning from Agonyland, U.S.A. After a pleasant but mostly inadequate night’s sleep I’m grieved to announce that I FEEL LIKE TOTAL SHIT RIGHT NOW. This crazy skin hoo-hah on the back of my left thigh feels like a fucking THIRD-DEGREE BURN and makes it impossible to get comfortable ANYWHERE, even lying down or sitting on my squishy new office chair in the study with Diet Sunkist orange soda in a can. I want to kill somebody or take a bunch of drugs. (Drugs are my friend.)

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.)

An illustrated compendium of my action-packed Sunday.

Howdy, people. Your favorite housebound senior citizen with shitty knees — i.e., moi — would like to share an illustrated compendium of her action-packed Sunday, which will explain why I couldn’t find time to squeeze in a Howdygram post. Thank you very much for giving a crap.

Bristol Palin is a Bible-beating “family values” harpy.

Good afternoon, y’all, and welcome to the Howdygram’s Clots “R” Us clinic! I just did a monthly blood test to check my coagulation time using my very own ritzy $1,400 CoaguChek XS blood-test meter, and I’m pleased to report that my pro-thrombin (PT) time today registered at 2.5. I sent an email to Dr. M with the results. Sam and I love not having to shlep to the lab every month to have this done and it also saves us a $25 insurance copay. Plus finger-stabbing is a real gas and you should try it sometime. BLOOD ROCKS!

Romney is preparing to get creamed by another black man.

Another day, another steaming pile of HOT NEWS for the Howdygram. Oh boy, right? Today’s themes include political announcements, Marcy goes shopping and decorating dilemmas. So grab yourself a Marcytini, rip open a bag of Cheetos and get comfortable!

Why can’t I walk? Because there’s no cartilage in my knees and my bones are grinding against each other!

Holy crap ... it’s Friday! Although technically this doesn’t mean very much to a retired senior citizen person with shitty knees such as yours truly, my husband — Handsome Rootin’-Tootin’ Sam — still works for a living at a real job and loves his weekends to pieces. We have no special plans whatsoever due to another huge threat of severe thunderstorms tonight, Saturday and Sunday with hail as big as somebody’s foot, potential twisters and other very scary weather whatnots here in the Dallas metro area, as illustrated below.

What the hell was that noise?

I started writing this post at least four times today but didn’t get very far. Don’t be mad at me, okay? Crap happens! But to give you a rough idea what kind of day it’s been at Howdygram headquarters it’s my pleasure to provide the following complete rundown. Pour yourself a Marcytini, get comfortable and thank you.

I love my nuke-able bowls of Chef Boyardee fetal ravioli.

Holy crap. There’s so much to write about today I almost don’t know where to start! Maybe I’ll try organizing my thoughts into convenient subtitled paragraphs BECAUSE THIS IS MY BLOG AND I WANT TO.

Sam is so goddamn adorable I want to eat him on a bagel.

I always enjoy the promise of a shiny new day, especially when I felt like COMPLETE TOTAL CRAP when I went to bed the night before. It must be something about end-of-the-day fatigue that makes the pain in my body exponentially worse. Every night without fail I drag myself from the family room to the bedroom whining, crying, dizzy, slightly nauseated, out of breath and scaring the bejeezus out of Sam who, I must admit, has finally figured out how to cope with this quite well. Instead of trying to help me (which he really can’t) he stands a few feet ahead of me barking encouragement like a middle school football coach, such as YOU’RE ALMOST THERE! YOU CAN DO IT! GREAT JOB! ONLY A FEW MORE STEPS TO GO! Sam is so goddamn adorable I want to eat him on a bagel.