Recording, watching and (sometimes) writing about old movies are a yooge part of my life.

Another day, another digestion nightmare. Ready for this? I had a lovely plate of artistic eggs yesterday morning for breakfast (thank you, Wolfgang) that took 12½ hours to finish traveling through my esophagus. I’m awfully tired of all these rotten infirmities! I almost starved to death — with a pressure in my chest like I’m having a fucking heart attack — until I could finally swallow again and take another bite of food. (Sam eventually baked some mozzarella sticks for a late dinner.)

Wolfgang Marks, my brilliant chef-in-residence, made me a cheeseburger tonight.

Hi. Me again. It’s 10:37 Thursday morning and I just finished two recorded TV shows that Sam always refuses to watch with me … “Project Runway All-Stars” and “The Real Housewives of New Jersey.” (Trust me, I fully understand his objections.)

Chives! Sour cream! Bacon bits! Butter!

My sleep pattern is a fucking MESS. It’s almost 5 p.m. and I’m EXHAUSTED, but that’s because I only had slightly more than four hours of sleep yesterday and woke up at noon. I know I shouldn’t whine about this due to being retired and I can grab more sleep any time I want, but Sam and I are on completely different schedules right now like ships passing in the night. I also have some significant PAIN ISSUES to complain about today. Specifically, my tailbone aches, I’ve got burning skin on the inside of my left thigh and I’m having insane electric shock spasms in my toes and heels due to diabetic neuropathy. Also in my thighs. This is extremely horrible. And then I hear the news that serial felon O. J. Simpson convinced a parole board to release him from prison — FOR FUCK’S SAKE … WHY!? — and Senator John McCain has brain cancer.