Please note that no actual stir-frying ever occurs at Howdygram headquarters.

Yo, everybody. It’s Sunday afternoon, and I hope this finds you healthy, safe and pleasantly quarantined wherever the hell you may be. Sam and I, of course, have barricaded ourselves here at beautiful Howdygram headquarters, a charming subdivision that’s neatly nestled between genuine cattle ranches — and genuine cattle! — here in the Dallas metro area.

Former Cubs second baseman Glenn Beckert died on Sunday.

It’s 6 a.m. Sunday morning. I just woke up but have no idea whatsoever when exactly I fell asleep. It’s pretty much the same story day after day after day … huge, inexplicable spans of very sound sleep* wrapped in my big fleece blanket, soaked and overflowing wee-wee pads, frequently shivering, aching legs that I’m scared to move without Sam’s help, lots of pills to take, the incessant sound of rushing air (through my cannula) that destroys my nostrils and the ability to hear things!

I’m having those burning bladder spasms again, every time I pee.

Good morning. It’s Monday, 4:28 a.m., and I just finished (at last!) taking all of my bedtime medications. Sometimes I can really get off-schedule. I take a million prescriptions every day, and unless I’m completely prepared to swallow a large volume of pills I tend to put it off. (Like right now, for instance.)

Here’s a short list of Howdygram-approved movies coming up on TCM.

Howdy-do from Howdygram headquarters! Sam and I just finished watching one of my favorite screwball comedies from the 1930s, Merrily We Live (1938) starring Constance Bennett, Billie Burke and Brian Aherne.

I can still name everybody in my fourth grade class (almost), even Herbie Rotfeld.

SATURDAY, 11/16/2019, 8:13 P.M. I’m wishing y’all a pleasant Saturday evening from Howdygram headquarters. Sam is in the kitchen fritterin’ around with my dinner — baked mozzarella sticks with pasta sauce — even though I’m not really convinced I’ll be able to eat that.* My stomach has been “churning” and generally upset since I woke up this afternoon at 4 p.m, and after a round of medication I’m still not feeling any better … except for the fact that I feel completely empty and need some food, pronto pronto pronto.

Happy birthday, Robin!

Sam and I are unwinding after a pleasant day of Errol Flynn movies. He’s asleep on the sofa (Sam, not Mr. Flynn), and I’m enjoying a couple of Otter Pops and a big tumbler of sugar-free lemonade. In case you give a crap, the aforementioned Errol Flynn marathon included Dodge City (1939), Santa Fe Trail (1940) and They Died with Their Boots On (1941), all with Olivia de Havilland. Personally, I think They Died with Their Boots On — a very fictionalized version of Custer’s last stand — is probably Flynn’s finest movie.

I need a Xanax, an anti-nausea pill and a meal replacement shake.

Hey. Happy Thursday, everybody. We’re expecting colder temperatures today and a shitload of RAIN — up to three inches! — which is actually pretty good news, as we’ve been stuck in a drought for the last six months and three inches of rain will fill up the reservoirs. In case you’re interested, although I can’t imagine why you would be, our reservoir is lovely Lake Ray Hubbard in nearby Rockwall, a source of summertime entertainment for boating enthusiasts and local water-starved Texans. The following map indicates: A) the Lake Ray Hubbard Reservoir; B) Howdygram headquarters, which is about four miles east of the lake; C) our closest Wal-Mart superstore; and D) China City, where Sam always buys my favorite hot and sour soup to-go.

This month’s catheter change was another total disaster.

Hi, everybody. It’s 12:03 a.m. Thursday morning and I’m finally getting around to the Howdygram. I’ve been on a brief hiatus due to a large volume of unexpected sleep, assorted digestion difficulties and an abundance of wild news emanating from our nation’s capitol. In case you’ve been hiding under a rock for the last few days, I think the treasonous orangutan in the White House is finally on his way out … and hopefully on his way to prison. Glory hallelujah!

According to a body language expert, Donald Trump wears shoe lifts to increase his height.

I’m past the crisis now, so it’s safe to make the following statement: TODAY WAS ONE OF THE LOUSIEST DAYS OF MY LIFE.

Apparently the world doesn’t already have enough sticky shit.

Know why I love Wednesday? I GET MY DRUG REFILLS ON WEDNESDAY! Or, actually, every other Wednesday. When you get your medical care from a hospice you have to request your prescription refills every other week — insane, right? — and in my case, Happy Drug Day always falls on a Wednesday. This would include 15-day refills for Amitriptyline, Metoprolol, Trazodone, Gabapentin, Furosemide, Xanax*, Tolterodine* and Hydrocodone.

I spend my days luxuriously now ... eating TV dinners, ice cream and Otter Pops.

Yo, people! It’s late Wednesday night — just a few minutes before midnight — and I thought I’d sneak a little time away from creative projects for The Howdygram Store.

Let’s pour a shot of Bailey’s Irish Cream and wait for the other shoe to drop.

I finally fell asleep this morning at 5 a.m., just about the same time that Sam left for his daily sunrise walk in the woods at Samuell Park. Sounds romantic, doesn’t it? Sam calls sunrise a “religious experience,” so he’s there nearly every day — even when it’s only 45° outside — to worship the moon, the stars and the brilliant colors at dawn. Judging from the photos he brings home, I totally get it. Here’s one of his latest.

Michael Cohen will testify today before the House Oversight Committee … at last!

Shalom and best wishes from Howdygram headquarters! It’s a dark, overcast day here in Texas … the first of many that we’re expecting over the next couple of weeks, as illustrated by the following screen grab from Weather.com. For now our daytime temperatures are “mild,” but that’s using general standards for March weather in North America. For Texas, this is awfully goddamn COLD.

Consider spending spring break at the Alamo this year. It can be as much fun as Disney World.

Happy Friday, everybody. It’s a few minutes past 5 a.m., Sam is getting ready to go for his morning walk in the woods, and I’m trying to decide whether or not I’m hungry. (Quick decision: I am.) Fortunately there’s some lovely and interesting leftover food in the fridge right now, specifically: 1) a very juicy Sam-made cheeseburger; and 2) one slice of pizza.

My night-time guilty pleasure? A whole Sara Lee cheesecake and a soup spoon.

This has been a weird yet profoundly productive day for your favorite bedridden invalid. My activities have included: 1) designing two mugs and four thrilling new greeting cards for The Howdygram Store; 2) one long nap; 3) brushing my hair twice; 4) eating a small plate of mozzarella sticks with pasta sauce; 5) watching three fine movies … She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1949) starring John Wayne, The Court Jester (1955) starring Danny Kaye, Basil Rathbone and Angela Lansbury, and Anchors Aweigh (1945) starring Gene Kelly and Frank Sinatra; 6) getting overheated and asking Sam to turn on the air-conditioning; and 7) eating a Hostess Ding-Dong.

Sam tried to wake me up Friday morning and almost couldn’t do it.

THURSDAY, 1/24/2019, 10:15 P.M. Wow. I’m definitely sick, y’all. About an hour ago, while I was enjoying this week’s episode of “Top Chef,” I realized I was feeling lousy, achy and hot as an iron … so I took my temperature and WHAMMO, it was 99.6°. And that’s substantial for me, because normal is usually 96°. I FEEL LIKE SHIT RIGHT NOW and my symptoms include all of the following: 1) a raging fever; 2) my hands and feet feel like they’re on fire; 3) the temperature under my boobs is probably 212° and hot enough to fry latkes; 4) muscle aches; 5) “electric shocks” in my thighs and feet from diabetic peripheral neuropathy; 6) a headache; 7) a muscle twinge in my back; and 8) a desperate craving for Pepperidge Farm Coconut Layer Cake, the last of which is pictured below for your possible interest.

Classic Donald Trump: “The buck stops with everybody.”

Happy Sunday night from Howdygram headquarters. As I write this post I’m stretched out on my hospital bed in the family room and Sam is nearby, napping on the sofa. He looks incredibly comfortable. And we don’t give a shit that it’s winter.

Please let me know if you’re making any plans to remember the Alamo this year.

It wasn’t my plan to write a Howdygram post tonight, but I’ve been through a roller-coaster ride of emotional turmoil today that deserves an explanation. So … here I am.

Seriously, I’m forced to make sounds that would terrify Bigfoot.

Yo. It’s a few minutes past 9 p.m. and I’ve had a rather restless evening so far. I’m still struggling with incessant burning pain from a stubborn UTI, although relief should be kicking in shortly because I finally started taking a new prescription today: Pyridium. It’s designed to work in tandem with an antibiotic to relieve some of the worst symptoms of a kidney infection, i.e., burning pain so fucking intense that I’m forced to make sounds that would terrify Bigfoot. Jesus!

I’m sick of the pain.

THURSDAY, 11/29/2018, 9:40 A.M. Good morning, y’all. It’s a beautiful, balmy Thursday morning here in north Texas! Sam is on his way to Costco, and I’m home alone with the TV remote and a big glass of iced tea. What could be better than this?