I will not show Debbie Riddle my 63-year-old crotch under any circumstances.

I’ll begin with a one-word explanation for yesterday’s Howdygram post: EXCELLENT NARCOTICS. (Okay, that’s two words.) Dr. M doubled the dose of my hydrocodone prescription a couple of days ago, and when Sam came home with the bottle from Wal-Mart yesterday morning my inaugural pill got me so fucked-up I couldn’t type, finish a sentence or remember how to spell “the.” IT WAS WONDERFUL. I eventually gave up trying to compose an article and took a series of increasingly juicy naps beginning at 11 a.m.