It’s high time to begin the Howdygram’s official New Year’s Eve festivities.

In this post: Crappy crap, pickles & biscuits, poor Sam.

I have NOT had a terrific day. The crapola started before sun-up with a variety of body maintenance issues (see previous post) followed by seven consecutive hours of intense intestinal distress, several frantic trips down the hall and half a quart of Imodium. (If this is too much information for you, get over it.) By late afternoon I felt so lousy I couldn’t even face a can of Hormel tamales for dinner so I had pickles & biscuits instead. Stop laughing.

L’chaim, y’all.

In this post: Kvetching, New Year’s Eve, a treatise on Vienna sausages.

It’s 6:30 in the morning and I woke up sneezing about 15 minutes ago. This is a good thing, actually, because I was also thirsty, I had to pee, and I just discovered that I’m having a mild hypoglycemic (low blood sugar) episode. So — for all of the aforementioned reasons — I’m wide awake, writing a Howdygram post and enjoying my first Marcytini of the day. L’chaim, y’all.

Here’s an end-of-December feel-good story.

In this post: Mental health, braunschweiger, a big win.

Let’s talk streamlining for a minute, okay? In my ongoing effort to avoid the hives and a cerebral hemorrhage, during the last 24 hours I’ve successfully “unsubscribed” myself from approximately four dozen assorted left-wing political email lists that were hounding me multiple times a day since the 2012 presidential election cycle. These included all of the following.

At no extra charge we also get the intriguing and ever-delightful Omar Sharif.

In this post: Sunday diversions, the jelly beans from hell.

It’s been another weird and sleepy day here at Howdygram headquarters. For the most part I’ve only managed to stay awake long enough to open a can of Dinty Moore beef stew and watch half of Lawrence of Arabia (1962) starring the late Peter O’Toole. (In reality this is even stranger than it sounds.)

Sleep is a healthful alternative to falling down.

In this post: Saturday sleep overdose, food news, a product review. 

I know this might be the understatement of the century, but I think today was the laziest day of my entire life … and we’re talking about more than SIX DECADES here. Need proof? I slept until noon, ate lunch with Sam, decided it was time for a nap and conked out on the chaise in the family room for another three and a half hours with Around the World in Eighty Days (1956) starring David Niven. Truth be told, I’ve been fatigued lately due to diabetic autonomic neuropathy — which includes being short of breath and getting dizzy — so sleep is a healthful alternative to falling down.

McDonald’s hopes you remembered to tip your masseuse.

In this post: Urgent emergency crap, McDonald’s fails.

Apparently the nationwide UPS and FedEx holiday delivery fiasco isn’t quite over yet, as I have two mysteriously missing packages that were due to arrive today. One was shipped FedEx from Wal-Mart in Albany, New York, but can’t seem to get itself out of Ohio; the other is an Amazon package that’s been stuck at the UPS sort facility in Fort Worth since Tuesday. Let me be perfectly clear about this: both shipments contain URGENT EMERGENCY RATIONS and I WANT MY URGENT EMERGENCY RATIONS NOW! This includes cans of Dinty Moore Beef Stew, La Choy Chow Mein in various flavors, two jars of Wal-Mart’s knockoff Arthritis-Strength Tylenol and a large jug of McCormick Spaghetti Sauce Mix. All are pictured below for your possible interest.

Mazel tov to creepy Edward Snowden. Hope you’re enjoying your first Russian winter.

In this post: The Great Pizza War, a retirement milestone, Snowden’s accomplishment.

I forgot to include an important issue in my post earlier today: OUR LOCAL PIZZA HUT WAS CLOSED ON CHRISTMAS EVE. Closed! Therefore I would appreciate a considered explanation of Pizza Hut’s corporate policy and/or a FORMAL APOLOGY regarding why these yokels refused to make a thin crust with extra cheese for the only Jewish residents of Mesquite, Texas. I consider this an outrage! This is politically incorrect! PIZZA HUT IS AT WAR WITH JEWS IN TEXAS! Thank you, have a nice day and oy.

Everybody knows that spooky crap happens all the time on the Internet.

In this post: Weird shit and spooky crap.

I didn’t write a Howdygram post yesterday because Sam and I enjoyed a non-holiday celebration of naps, food, movies and joyous slugdom. (Mostly because we’re Jewish.) However, please allow me to wish y’all a happy day-AFTER-Christmas, and I hope you snagged a pile of thrilling presents and ate enough indigestible fruitcake to sink a freakin’ battleship.

Merry Christmas from the Gefilte Fish Squad at Howdygram headquarters.

In this post: The ongoing imaginary war on Christmas.

Happy Tuesday, people! I’m here to make good on the promise in my last post by introducing the Howdygram’s latest Putz of the Week honoree. Meet Congressman Doug Lamborn of Colorado, another religious Republican manure-for-brains fighting back against the imaginary war on Christmas. With a comb-over, no less.

I’ve never tap-danced in my entire life.

In this post: Frozen solid, couch picnic essentials.

I’m almost too cold right now to type the word “hypothermia” because my body temperature is 94.8° AND I’M SHAKING. It doesn’t seem to matter that the house is 72° inside and I’m wearing the warmest fluffy robe I own. Holy crap, people. This really sucks. And in case you’re wondering what the hell is going on, my low body temperature issue is one of the many symptoms of diabetic autonomic neuropathy, where nerve damage sends wrong signals to (and from) the brain. This is also why I get lightheaded, short of breath, lose my balance, have difficulty swallowing and had to stop tap-dancing. (I might be kidding about tap-dancing. I’ve never tap-danced in my entire life.)

Tonight is Christmas Eve. This is no big deal to Sam and me for any reason whatsoever.

In this post: Insomnia, Tuesday shopping, holiday favorites.

It’s 6:20 a.m. and I don’t know why I’m hanging out in the study at this hour of the morning. I woke up at 5 for my middle-of-the-night senior citizen bathroom adventure but couldn’t fall asleep again when I went back to bed, so here I am … armed with a keyboard and ready for trouble. Shopping always helps kill a little time so I just ordered the following fine products from my friends at Amazon: 1) a gigantic jug of tasty McCormick Italian herb spaghetti sauce seasoning mix (all you do is moosh it up with canned tomatoes); and 2) Sparkle Dent for the whitest dentures in North America. I’m not sure they actually sparkle, per se, but this stuff is pretty damn AMAZING.

Today’s holiday treat: 45 minutes of “Gladys Knight Sings Shitty Christmas Songs” on a continuous loop.

In this post: Holiday weather, many happy returns, menu options.

In case you’re planning a holiday visit to the Dallas area to eat barbecue, drink beer and pet the cattle, I’m pleased to offer the following EXCELLENT WEATHER FORECAST through December 28. It would have been nice also to include December 29, 30 and 31 but my screen shot tool didn’t reach that far. I know you’ll forgive me. Carry on, people.

Drive-by Christmas cards and a visit from Schwan’s.

In this post: Bah humbug, pleasant frozen whatnots.

As I write this post Sam is embarking on a post office “drive-by” to mail our six Christmas cards. I realize we’re probably a week late with this activity, but it’s apparent that nobody really gives a crap about Christmas cards any more since we’ve only received TWO this year ... and both are from people I don’t even know. (Sam’s co-workers.) Therefore, here’s a big fat Howdygram PHOOEY to all you humbugs out there and a Merry Festivus to one and all.

Disappointment and braunschweiger.

In this post: Crappy merchandise, a dinner dilemma. 

The verdict is in, people. MY CRAPPY NEW OFFICE CHAIR IS GOING BACK TOMORROW. What a total disappointment after waiting three months for this damn thing on back order, then watching Sam assemble and disassemble it three times today trying to figure out why the angle of the seat (which isn’t adjustable) tilts so far forward that a handicapped senior citizen like yours truly has to put excessive pressure on her already-lousy knees to keep from sliding onto the floor. Holy mother of crap.

My new office chair is creating a lot of negative hoo-hah.

In this post: Chair fail.

If you’re like me, you might need a little something to cheer you up right now.

Nothing relieves pain like a can of beef stew.

In this post: Unexpected naps, cheap eats.

It’s two hours before sunrise at Howdygram headquarters and I’m wide awake, the end result of two long and unexpected naps on Saturday, the second of which ended around 9 p.m. — Sam actually slept until 11:15 — followed by a ridiculously late dinner at midnight. Obviously we’re both upside-down but we don’t give a crap. We sleep when we’re tired and we eat when we’re hungry. AMERICA!

Cottonelle Clean Care with Very Stupid Ripples is ruining my life.

In this post: Water from the sky, bad toilet paper.

It’s a dark and crappy Saturday morning due to substantial very cold rain all around the Dallas metro area. For your possible interest the map below indicates: A) Howdygram headquarters in Mesquite; B) Hong Kong Royal in Carrollton where we can’t go for dim sum today because it’s too far, too cold and too wet; and C) the location of our favorite Costco in Rockwall. (We’re not doing Costco today, either.) I, for one, plan to stay indoors with Sam, The Bishop’s Wife and a can of Hormel tamales.

Please feel free to drop in if you’re hungry because I’ve got a lot of fantastic snacky crap.

In this post: Shipping nightmares, snack attacks. 

UPS and FedEx are a total disaster right now in the Dallas metropolitan area. Deliveries are late, rescheduled, misdirected and then vaporize. Yesterday FedEx didn’t deliver the office chair I’d been waiting for (on back order) since September so I checked online around midnight to see if they rescheduled it. I find out the package had been “delivered to front door” at 11:45 p.m. so I open the front door and guess what: NO DAMN PACKAGE. It’s past midnight when I finally reach somebody at FedEx to rip them a new one, and the customer service agent puts me on hold and sends a text message directly to the delivery driver. Two hours later I hear a truck engine idling outside and my carton mysteriously shows up at the front door ... at 2 o’clock in the morning. Holy crap.

I find it ironic to have a toothache but no teeth.

In this post: Crap held hostage, a Putz of the Week.

There’s something amiss right now at Howdygram headquarters. UPS and FedEx have totally loused up their pre-holiday deliveries, and all the packages I was expecting yesterday and today have been rescheduled until tomorrow (hopefully) for no apparent reason whatsoever. The online tracking information simply says “EXCEPTION.” Really? An exception to what, exactly? You’re holding my damn crap* hostage! I WANT MY DAMN CRAP AND I WANT IT NOW!

Sam is overworked.

In this post: Just come home already.

It’s almost 5 a.m. here. I just woke up for my middle-of-the-night senior citizen bathroom adventure and discovered that Sam isn’t home from work yet! I called his office (no answer, which is very weird) and then his cell phone, which is when I find out that Sam is jogging across downtown Dallas on foot trying to deliver a hard-copy document proof to a client who’s staying at the Ritz. AT FIVE IN THE MORNING, PEOPLE. He was out of breath, his legs are hurting, he’s crabby and he’s exhausted.

I’ve been sitting on a broken chair since mid-summer. My butt deserves much better treatment than this.

In this post: A tardy office chair, too many maracas, ongoing drought.

I’ve been trying to write a Howdygram post since 9 o’clock this morning but haven’t been able isolate any interesting topics or assemble the necessary sentences. I don’t know if I’ve got enough motivation now, either, but it’s 12 hours later and what the crap, I’ll just give it my best shot. Each paragraph will have a title so you’ll know what’s what, okay?

I’m a retired senior citizen now and this is probably all the excitement I can stand.

In this post: Exciting options for retirees, heavy lifting.

It’s 3:45 p.m. and here are my options for the rest of the day: 1) take another nap; 2) eat things; 3) clean up the kitchen because my maid comes tomorrow and I don’t want her to think we’re slobs; 4) items 1, 2 and 3 followed by watching The Thrill of It All (1963) starring Doris Day and James Garner; and 5) folding underwear. If you think my life sounds boring you’d probably be right, except I’M A RETIRED SENIOR CITIZEN NOW and this is probably all the excitement I can stand ... not counting a hot shower and tonight’s season premier of “Hardcore Pawn.”

In the early stages of hypoglycemia it’s a lot like being inebriated.

In this post: Hypoglycemia, Internet groceries.

I woke up half an hour ago in the middle of low blood sugar episode. I can always tell what’s going on even if I’m still half asleep because all of a sudden my knees don’t hurt, which is due to my brain powering down from a serious lack of glucose. This is not a wholly unpleasant feeling, mind you. In the early stages of hypoglycemia it’s a lot like being inebriated. Unfortunately, in the later stages it’s a lot like being a cadaver. I guess you can’t have everything.

Amazon’s shopping fairies sometimes drop the price when you’re not looking.

In this post: Condolence call, shopping diversions.

There isn’t very much to write about today because I never do anything interesting unless you give a crap about laundry, so I’ll begin this post with a brand new Howdygram feature!

Sam has changed his name to Mister Productive today.

In this post: Wider is better, meet Mister Productive.

It’s entirely possible that some of you may not be aware that the Howdygram is 20 pixels wider today. While this might be no big deal to you whatsoever it’s a very big deal to me because 20 extra pixels can change a person’s life, and as soon as I think of a few examples you’ll be the first to know. Meanwhile, in case you don’t quite know what 20 pixels looks like you can check out the red box in the illustration below.

I’ll risk damn near anything if unlimited egg rolls are involved.

In this post: Dense fog, giant pies. 

Here’s some breaking news on Saturday afternoon from your friends at Howdygram headquarters! We’ve just decided NOT to drive all over town looking at Christmas lights tonight because it’s too cold and damp outside and also because Sam wants to spend some quality time with the gigantic apple pie he bought this afternoon at Tom Thumb. So I won’t feel left out I purchased the following essentials today from a variety of my favorite Internet retailers. I ordered 100 insulin pen needles from Wayfair.com, a foamy soap dispenser thing from Amazon and McCormick Brown Gravy on eBay.

“Millionaire Matchmaker” is a Howdygram favorite.

In this post: Folding socks, matching millionaires.

I regret to report that very, very few of you have volunteered for the Howdygram’s Friday the 13th after-hours sock-folding party.

Okay, technically none of you volunteered, but there’s still plenty of time to do the right thing. Click here to reserve your spot now! As a bonus, we’re serving a large volume of nutritious yet tasty snacks — canned Vienna sausages, soy milk, low-carb rye bread and dill pickles — with your choice of a quality Doris Day movie or last night’s episode of “Millionaire Matchmaker” on Bravo. Thank you in advance for your valuable participation.

Favorite holiday films and corny Christmas hoo-hah.

In this post: TCM holiday movie schedule.

Those of you who read the Howdygram regularly know I’m a big classic movie fan. I love the good ones, the cheesy ones and practically any genre you can think of except for chainsaws and gladiators. That said, December is a great time to watch TCM because I love holiday movies AND because they do a retrospective montage thing of all the famous faces who died that year. Click here to check out the montage on TCM’s website. (I tried to embed the video but it screwed up the rest of my post formatting.)

Nothing says “Happy Birthday Baby Jesus” like an outrageous waste of electricity.

In this post: Kvetching, raining, laundry and lights.

I’ve got another kvetch report to share in conjunction with my standard list of ongoing complaints that includes shitty knees, shitty feet and a terrifyingly low body temperature. Now I can add SHOULDER PAIN ever since I woke up yesterday with a really sore right shoulder like I just pitched an extra-inning baseball game. Ow, damn it.

UPS drivers are a bunch of whiny little girls.

In this post: Constipated deliveries.

So here’s the thing. Apparently UPS’s distribution facilities in the Dallas/Fort Worth area remain seriously constipated due to last week’s ice storm. Package deliveries, including two of mine, are backed up all over the damn place, so UPS has reassigned 2,000 extra employees — let’s think of them as human suppositories — from across the U.S. to get things moving again. Stuck somewhere in the backlog are my glass stacking canisters from Anchor Hocking and Sam’s new underpants from Amazon. Both deliveries should have been here on Tuesday. In a word, I’m REALLY CRUSHED. (Okay, two words.)

Deadbeats, milestones and dinner.

In this post: Clingy clients, a farewell to Ovation Creative.

For the record, even though I’m collecting Social Security now (see earlier post) it doesn’t really mean I’m 100% retired since a handful of desperate clients are choosing to hang on till the very bitter end. I assume this is because they love me, although the feeling is NOT reciprocal and I’d be overjoyed if they all just disappeared already.

Is this some kind of warped right-wing Tea Party anti-shopping conspiracy?

In this post: Coordinated cows, consolation prizes.

Yup, I did it again. I updated the Howdygram’s banner this afternoon and decided to throw a nice color-coordinated cow up there for added visual appeal in case you’re partial to livestock. (You’re welcome.)

Holy crap, everybody! It’s here! It’s here! It’s here!

In this post: It’s here.

I just checked our bank balance. My first Social Security check was deposited this morning, and now it’s official:

I’ve just discovered my new favorite cheap canned meat: Armour Vienna Sausages.

In this post: Recalls, a Wal-Mart addiction, Vienna sausages.

I’ve been receiving frantic emails today from the Amazon Product Safety Team with news that Abbott has recalled a bunch of their popular FreeStyle Lite glucose test strips due to lousy results when used with older-model FreeStyle blood glucose meters. So far I’ve received six emails (one for each purchase, I guess) except none of this actually applies to me because I don’t have an older-model meter. Also because I used up those test strips at least nine months ago.

Listen up, Caribou Barbie. Go roast a moose for Christmas dinner and leave the rest of us alone.

In this post: Everybody’s favorite Putz.

Sarah Palin, vapid mouthpiece of the religious right, made a claim today on the Christian Broadcasting Network that “angry atheists” are trying to “abort Christ from Christmas” and “threaten the American way of life.” Because apparently Baby Jesus was one of the Founding Fathers.

Insomnia, the kvetch du jour.

In this post: Guess who can’t sleep ... again.

This will be a stupid blow-by-blow description of a day without sleep. Welcome to my world.

MONDAY, 6:47 A.M. I’ve been awake all night. All damn night. I’m not sure I can pinpoint the reason, but it’s most likely a combination of electric shocks in my feet (diabetic peripheral neuropathy), heel pain (plantar fasciitis), mild indigestion, a general feeling of overall shittiness and the fact that I’m not even tired. I tried to go back to bed twice and even stretched out on the chaise in the family room ... but no luck. So I figure I’ll just stop whining and wait until I finally get sleepy. I guess you can’t win ’em all, right?

Exciting crap for the week ahead.

In this post: Deliveries, dough, refunds, frozen fog.

Here’s the exciting crap that’s coming up this week at Howdygram headquarters!

DELIVERIES. On Tuesday and Wednesday we’re expecting: 1) Shirataki noodles, spicy sauces, canned straw mushrooms and a box of tofu from Asian Food Grocer; 2) Jimmy Dean Country Gravy mix, a shower cap, toilet paper, butt wipes and a bottle of DaVinci vanilla syrup from Wal-Mart; 3) my lovely new ecru bedspread from Brylane Home; 4) underpants for Sam from Amazon; 5) four nice glass stacking canisters from Anchor Hocking; and 6) fluffy memory foam slippers from FootSmart. All of these purchases were illustrated for you in earlier posts, but in case you don’t remember them please click here, here, here and here. Thank you.

I’m sorry if this post was boring. They can’t all win a Pulitzer.

In this post: Practically nothing.

SUNDAY, 6 P.M. We’re still ice-bound in north Texas and I can’t think of anything to write about. I’ve basically been sitting around the house like a slug since I got out of bed this morning with the exception of an afternoon nap on the chaise, during which I reclined for four hours under a fake mink blanket named Mister Furry. I didn’t even bother with a normal lunch and opted instead for insulin and potato chips. (Don’t call the diabetes police. I had a craving, okay?) I honestly don’t know if Sam ate anything at all today, although I vaguely remember watching him toast a bagel. Or maybe that was yesterday.

Welcome to “ground zero.”

In this post: Freezing fog, empty shelves.

For at least the next several days north Texas will be ground zero in the Zombie Ice Storm Apocalypse. We’re currently experiencing FREEZING FOG until 9 a.m. Sunday morning, which is depositing EVEN MORE ICE on top of the inch we’ve already got. Freeways and surface streets are virtually impassable and about 200,000 residents are still without power ... including most of NorthPark Center, Nordstrom, the Apple Store and Keller Hamburgers. Breaking news on our local NBC affiliate says Whole Foods has been ravaged and you can’t even find a box of freakin’ SALTINES. For the most part, supermarkets are empty all over town because deliveries can’t get through.

The Howdygram’s official Ice Storm Survival Guide.

In this post: A frozen wasteland, amusing diversions.

In case you’re wondering why I didn’t write a Howdygram post yesterday, Sam had to work from home because his office was closed due to the entire Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex being entombed in half an inch of ice, so I decided to give him a day of privacy in the study without pestering him.

Waiting for the ice storm from hell.

In this post: Bedding 101, dire warnings, crap weather.

I’m having an issue with hot hands and feet tonight — diabetic peripheral neuropathy again — so I thought I’d hang out in the study for a while and post a picture of the new bedspread I ordered this afternoon. In case you’re interested I didn’t buy the coordinating pillow shams for three reasons: 1) you really don’t need them with a bedspread; 2) they’re generally annoying; and 3) king-size sham stuffers are too heavy to lift with my nerve-damaged hands. Therefore I’ve decided to make our bed the “old-fashioned” way ... with our regular bed pillows folded underneath the spread. Click here if you have a problem with this. Please feel free to offer a detailed explanation.

Introducing Addison Elizabeth.

In this post: Happy faces.

Hey, people, I almost forgot! Here are the first official photos of my teeny new grandniece, Addison Elizabeth, who was born on November 26 to my niece Melissa and her husband Tom. Also included here is big brother Tyler, 5½, who’s apparently getting a huge kick out of all this.

Marshall Field’s was the best damn department store God ever created.

In this post: Remembering Frango Mints.

Know what? FedEx will deliver my sugar-free Russell Stover chocolates ANY MINUTE NOW, and I can hardly wait! This time I included two bags of their French Mints because I’m hoping they’ll remind me of the unforgettable Frangos I used to buy at Marshall Field’s — THE BEST DAMN DEPARTMENT STORE GOD EVER CREATED — a million years ago when I lived in Chicago. (I still dream about Frango Mints. Also Italian beef sandwiches.)

I have the most phenomenal husband on the planet.

In this post: An ode to Sam.

I have, without a doubt, the most phenomenal husband on the planet, and I don’t say this just because he’s 6'5", debt-free and deliriously entertaining. To prove the first part of my opening sentence I am proud to list Sam’s Wednesday morning accomplishments.

Starvation is not a possibility.

In this post: Winter storm warning, emergency provisions.

WEDNESDAY MORNING, 5:45 A.M. Today Howdygram headquarters — actually, the entire Dallas metro area — will experience a last desperate blast of fake summer when our afternoon high hits 81°. This won’t last long, though. By mid-day tomorrow the temperature will be 32° with a 100% chance of significant sleet and freezing rain that’s forecast to continue through Friday night, at which time the temperature bottoms out at 22°. That’s even cold enough for hell to freeze over! Fortunately, we’re well-supplied with emergency provisions here because Sam stocked up on winter storm essentials yesterday at Wal-Mart: 1) two large lumps of braunschweiger; 2) margarine; 3) zero-carb heavy cream; 4) spicy little Jimmy Dean sausage patty whatnots; 5) blueberry Clif Bars; and 6) my prescription refill for Spironolactone. 

I use a cane for balance and walk with a gait like Godzilla.

In this post: Kvetch report, storm forecast.

That pitiful sound you hear in the background is my screaming knees. This has been a productive yet physically challenging day for Queen Kvetch of Howdygramland, involving two loads of laundry, ironing, pantry reorganization and stacking the dishwasher, an activity that I hate almost as much as emptying the damn thing. In case you’re new around here, I am a mostly-friendly senior citizen with MOBILITY ISSUES. A lot of them. These include arthritic knees, plantar fasciitis in both feet, muscle weakness in my lower back and legs, diabetic peripheral neuropathy (nerve damage in my limbs) and autonomic neuropathy that makes me lightheaded and short of breath. I use a cane for balance, walk with a gait like Godzilla and usually can’t stand for more than five minutes at a time. Holy crap, right?

Slippers from FootSmart are recommended for “feet with issues.”

In this post: Happy feet, new connections.

Take a guess what’s new today at Howdygram headquarters. Give up? SLIPPERS! I usually shlep around here year-round in my bare feet but a FootSmart catalog that came in today’s mail convinced me to take a closer look at the cuties pictured below. They’re recommended for “feet with issues” — i.e., plantar fasciitis, swelling and diabetic neuropathy — and made of squishy microfiber terry with REAL MEMORY FOAM FOOTBEDS and have traction soles in case I decide tap dance outside on the snow and ice. Even better, they only cost $24.99, come in huge sizes (I’m a 12 wide) and I ordered them in black. (I order everything in black.)

Rick Santorum, America’s self-appointed Birth Control Führer.

In this post: Another scary forecast, another Putz of the Week.

It’s a lovely, clear Monday night in north Texas, about 55° at 9:30 p.m., and the lying sacks of poo at Weather.com are again attempting to convince us that a TERRIFYING WINTER STORM WITH ICE is on the way. This time there’s a big orange Special Weather Statement warning about freezing rain Thursday night, freezing rain and sleet on Friday, and another potential round of wintry crap on Saturday and Sunday. However it’s worth noting that Weather.com hasn’t provided an accurate forecast for the Dallas metro area since 1983. I hate those people.

Hypoglycemic delirium and Cyber Monday adventures.

In this post: Hypoglycemia, Cyber Monday, a focus on accents.

I’m just coming out of another scary low blood sugar episode. About 45 minutes ago I woke up to go to the bathroom and knew something was completely screwed when my knees didn’t hurt (my knees ALWAYS hurt) and I had a craving for chocolate, French fries, an onion bagel with braunschweiger, sweet pickles and Hunan Shrimp all at the same time. My blood sugar tested at 47; four tasty tropical fruit glucose chewables from Wal-Mart saved the day. I like the pink and yellow ones.

Who wouldn’t want a case of Hormel tamales delivered by helicopter?

In this post: Amazon does it again.

Hi, people. While Sam is asleep in the family room watching My Favorite Spy (1951) starring Bob Hope I’ve decided to hang out here with the Howdygram until it’s time for my next meal, which most likely will be SOON judging from the noise in my stomach. I’m considering a variety of different menu possibilities, but right now at the top of my short list are Five-Minute Stupid Soup and Marcy’s Low-Carb Mock Matzo Balls. (Point of interest: When you throw in mock matzo balls, Five-Minute Stupid Soup actually takes 40 minutes.)

I have a leaky bladder and seriously congested nasal whatnots.

In this post: Kvetch report, a special delivery.

SATURDAY MORNING, 5 A.M. I’ve got a kvetch report to share with y’all. I woke up about 20 minutes ago because my feet were annoying me (it’s diabetic neuropathy in case you need to know) and I couldn’t breathe due to seriously congested nasal whatnots. I’m also really really thirsty but I don’t feel motivated enough yet to shlep myself into the kitchen for a Marcytini. Maybe in a few minutes. We’ll see.

Meet Josh Romney, son of the eternally-creepy Mitt.

In this post: What a Putz.

I’ll begin my post tonight with the Howdygram’s latest Putz of the Week award. This time it’s entitled trust-fund dickhead Josh Romney, son of the eternally-creepy Mitt, who wants everybody on earth to know he’s a HERO.

Why I love Amazon.com.

In this post: Black Friday insanity.

Now that we’ve finished scraping the crud off last night’s dishes it’s time to acknowledge the REAL purpose of Thanksgiving weekend.

See Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in under 10 seconds.

In this post: The real Santa Claus, a Thanksgiving Day confession.

Yee-haw and HAPPY THANKSGIVING, people! Although I’ve run through the Howdygram’s entire holiday menu in a couple of previous posts I’ll include it again for you now in case you give a remote crap about this: 1) a Boston Market turkey thing that you have to bake for 90 minutes; 2) a small definitely-NOT-worth-the-price container of Boston Market’s spinach casserole; 3) a box of turkey Stove Top stuffing; 4) a can of Ocean Spray cranberry sauce; and 5) gravy. From a jar.

Have a perfect Thanksgiving. Seriously.

In this post: Happy Thanksgiving from the Howdygram.

Here’s a heartfelt Thanksgiving wish from your pals at Howdygram headquarters! May you get the drumstick you’ve always wanted, an extra ton of stuffing, a seat next to your favorite cousin and double marshmallows on your sweet potato casserole.

The Corleones are probably the only family on earth that’s more dysfunctional than yours.

In this post: Another Howdygram public service.

As a Howdygram public service, here’s what to watch on TV tomorrow to avoid helping in the kitchen or talking to annoying relatives. For the record, I never bother with American Movie Classics — way too many commercials! — but it might be worth the trouble on Thanksgiving for The Godfather and The Godfather: Part II because the Corleones are probably the only family on earth that’s more dysfunctional than YOURS. (All times listed are Central.)

Download your free Hanukkah latkes!

In this post: Free latkes, an Amazon speed record, God bless Sam. 

Happy Hanukkah from the Howdygram! To help get the party started this year we’re pleased to offer a FREE DOWNLOAD OF HOMEMADE LATKES from our house to yours.

Sam doesn’t enjoy ptomaine poisoning as much as I do.

In this post: Homemade feasts, celebrating mom.

Happy Tuesday afternoon, Howdygramsters! As I sit here pondering what’s for dinner tonight I’m struck by the fact that Thanksgiving is right around the proverbial corner and I don’t have a craving for turkey yet. This year — just like every other year — we’re picking up a nice heat-it-yourself turkey breast from Boston Market on Town East Boulevard (see image at right) and I’ll make the rest of our feast from scratch all by myself. This includes homemade Stove Top stuffing from a box, a can of Ocean Spray cranberry sauce and a jar of tan gravy. This is followed by a whole pumpkin pie for Sam with a fork and a can of Reddi Whip.

Shopping on Amazon doesn’t require lipstick, wearing a brassiere or leaving the house.

In this post: Holiday food-fest, another AT&T fiasco.

Sam is on his merry way to Costco as I write this post, armed with a list of essential crapola to keep our faces entertained during the four-day Thanksgiving weekend. I specifically refer to:

1. Brownie Brittle*
2. Salt & pepper pistachios
3. An industrial-size slab of lox
4. “Loaded” potato salad (sour cream! cheddar cheese! chives!)*
5. Sushi
6. Jalapeño hummus
7. Frozen Angus burgers
8. Excellent breakfast burritos*
9. Fully-cooked microwave bacon

The fine art of self-medication.

In this post: Miserable dickheads in the news, a hypothermic personal best. 

I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of living in Pottersville. There are way too many evil, hate-filled people in the news these days. Take, for example, Everest Wilhelmsen, pictured at right, the miserable dickhead who runs the Christian American Patriots Militia and believes his group “has authority to shoot Obama, i.e., to kill him” due to “his willful violations and alienation of our Constitution, constant disregard for our peaceful protests and corruption of all the three branches of government.” This statement was posted on Wilhelmsen’s Facebook page the same day that a crowd of right-wing hatemongers, conspiracy theorists and gun crackpots rallied in a park near the White House screaming for President Obama to voluntarily leave office “or else.”

Groceries from unlikely websites.

In this post: A Howdygram face lift, sleetless in Mesquite, unlikely groceries.

Holy crap. Can we talk? Once again — for at least the bazillionth time — those lying sacks of poo at Weather.com got it TOTALLY, COMPLETELY AND ABSOLUTELY WRONG. After three days’ advance warning of a life-threatening winter storm in the Dallas metro area with “substantial ice,” “up to two inches of sleet” and “trecherous conditions” — all forecast to get underway by 1 p.m. on Saturday — the only precipitation we’ve had all weekend was light rain that started about two hours ago. The red star on the map below indicates Howdygram headquarters in Mesquite. As you can see, the pink icy crap is nowhere near us.

Ice is more than enough, thank you. We don’t need any stinking snow.

In this post: Winter storm warning, threats of soup.

Breaking news! The latest winter storm warning has forecast up to two inches of sleet and freezing rain here in the Dallas metro area starting mid-day today and continuing through mid-day Monday. Tuesday looks shitty, too, and starts out with SNOW as an unexpected bonus. Ice is more than enough, thank you. We don’t need any stinking snow. Our three-day forecast from Weather.com appears below for your possible interest.

Cheesy movies and fake Asians.

In this post: Movie reviews, Kennedy beats Reagan. 

It’s almost 1 a.m. and Sam is asleep in the family room watching 55 Days at Peking (1963), a big-budget semi-historical epic that attempts to tell the story of China’s Boxer Rebellion of 1900. I’ve never been able to sit through this thing in its entirety — almost three hours long — because they’ve got Caucasians with taped eyes playing most of the major Asian parts, Charlton Heston as an arrogant U.S. soldier with enough over-the-top swagger to give you a nervous breakdown, and Ava Gardner doing the same breathless, mumbling, hypersexual shtick from every movie she’s ever made. (Here, we’re supposed to believe she’s a Russian baroness.) Others in the cast include David Niven with terrific outfits and Flora Robson as the empress of China (seriously). For added Far East authenticity the movie’s theme song is performed by Andy Williams.

We have enough toilet paper, TicTacs and Coke Zero to last a month.

In this post: Freezing.

I almost didn’t write a post today. This is mostly because: 1) Sam and I have been asleep almost nonstop since mid-morning enjoying consecutive naps in a variety of rooms; 2) the weather sucks; and 3) I think that’s all.

Rick Perry, the gun-loving, abortion-hating secessionist.

In this post: Speedy deliveries, politics from hell.

Oh boy, everybody! UPS and FedEx deliveries are showing up SO DAMN FAST these days it’s making my head spin! I ordered Sam’s Vitamin D yesterday from Costco.com and it’s already on the truck for delivery this afternoon. My Subscribe & Save crapola from Amazon is arriving today, as well — one day early — and if that’s not enough to give an old lady a brain hemorrhage, our new platform bed frame and bedskirt are being delivered, too! ALL ON THE SAME DAY!

A winter storm is closing in on Howdygram headquarters.

In this post: Too much weather, plenty of “Columbo.”

Hello, people. It’s 9:30 Thursday night and I spent most of the day involved in a variety of routine activities. For instance, I: 1) made homemade Hanukkah and Thanksgiving cards for young relatives and old friends; 2) ordered a lot of Vitamin D capsules for Sam from Costco.com; 3) slept through Goodbye, My Fancy (1951) starring Joan Crawford and Robert Young; 4) kept an eye out for UPS because shitty weather is moving in and I don’t want today’s deliveries to get pummeled with hailstones; and 5) I can’t think of anything else. An explanation for #4 follows for your possible interest.

Sam and I don’t celebrate much of anything around here.

In this post: Dismal weather ahead, too pooped for pizza, Hanukkah’s coming.

In my last post I know I promised you more news and general horseshit, however it’s already 9 p.m. and I really can’t think of anything else unless you’d be interested to know that: 1) I’m so damn tired tonight I can hardly keep my eyes open; 2) UPS just delivered a crate of Lou Malnati’s pizzas; 3) there’s a cold front coming on Saturday; and 4) ONLY SEVEN MORE DAYS UNTIL HANUKKAH.

Sex and Brownie Brittle can solve damn near anything.

In this post: Dysfunctional bedding, terrifying bedskirts, exciting Wednesday purchases.

You may recall a couple of years ago when we had to return a brand new (defective) $2,700 Beautyrest king-size bed after a humongous dent developed in the memory foam. Know what? The expensive Sealy Posturepedic we bought to replace it has developed a mystery hump down the middle and — as an added bonus — on Monday I apparently busted a spring in the foundation on my side of the bed, resulting in a thunderous CLUNK every time I get in.

Hawaii’s Tom Brower: Another sociopath disguised as a public servant.

In this post: Sociopaths in the news, kvetch report, women who stare at shoes.

Another day, another frustrating pain. This time it’s my SHINS, people. They’re killing me, even when I’m not walking or standing. They also hurt when I sit if there’s any pressure whatsoever on my legs. According to WebMD.com and the National Institute of Health this is yet another entertaining side effect of diabetic peripheral neuropathy. About half an hour ago I emptied the dishwasher, loaded some dirty dishes and washed a frying pan. By the time I was done I wanted to blow my brains out.

Sam to the rescue.

In this post: Club Meds, reverse insomnia, flying cheese.

Bear with me while I kvetch for a few minutes, okay? I had an insane night of fitful sleep that eventually rendered me unconscious on the chaise in the family room from 8:15 this morning until shortly after 12 noon. Sam was probably convinced I’d been drugged by foreign agents. I tried twice but COULD NOT WAKE UP. Around 12:30 I finally began speaking in sentences, staggered into the kitchen to make Sam’s sandwich for work and unintentionally launched a pound of neatly sliced pepper jack cheese across the room when the Ziploc bag crapped-out. At this point crying was the only option left because my legs were killing me, I was still mostly asleep and I knew I couldn’t achieve grand-scale cheese retrieval without professional help. (Translation: Sam to the rescue.) But that’s not all, folks. My body temperature is 95.2°, my fingers feel like icicles and I’ve got a craving for GRILLED CHEESE AND SWEET PICKLES.

More high-quality entertainment from the Howdygram.

In this post: The Ritz Brothers go slumming.

Yes, people, it’s me again. Sam called about an hour ago to let me know he’d be working late again tonight — until maybe 2:30 a.m. — so I’ve decided to kill a little time with the Howdygram, a Marcytini and a low-carb chocolate bar.

In our continuing effort to provide high-quality family entertainment the Howdygram is pleased to offer two excellent video clips of the incomparable Ritz Brothers from a million years ago. In the first, the narrator is Mel Brooks; the man behind the desk is Adolphe Menjou; the scene is from The Goldwyn Follies (1938).

It won’t be today and it won’t be tomorrow, either. It’s also not looking so good for Wednesday.

In this post: Medical necessities, Zimmerman in the news, a Putz of the Week, Jesus had B.O.

Three big things on a Monday afternoon.

BIG THING #1. I had my routine quarterly appointment this morning with Dr. M. Everything was good except she’s trying to talk me into a “chemical stress test” (done with an I.V. rather than a treadmill) because I have a pile of mobility issues and also because I’m at-risk for heart disease due to diabetes, high blood pressure and weight. At the moment my head is still stuck comfortably in the sand so I told her I’d think about it.

BIG THING #2. An hour after I got home the lab called to tell me I should come back to have one more tube of blood drawn because they forgot. I told them good luck with that. It won’t be today and it won’t be tomorrow, either. It’s also not looking so good for Wednesday.

BIG THING #3. I’m hungry.

Writing a Howdygram post is the only way out of my neuropathy hell. Also William Powell movies.

In this post: Neuropathy hell, William Powell, Thanksgiving giveaway.

Thursday night was one of the miserablest — so miserable I don’t even give a crap if that’s a real word or NOT — nights in recent memory, where I didn’t actually go to bed AT ALL. Around 6:30 in the morning I finally dragged myself to the family room and slept on the chaise until 9, hung out in the study with Sam until he left at 10:30 to pick up my insulin prescription and a load of dry cleaning, and then headed back to the chaise, where I remained unconscious until shortly after 3. I totally missed lunch — HOLY CRAP! — and I don’t remember saying goodbye to Sam when he left for work at 1:15.

Enter to win Sam & Marcy’s Stupid Thanksgiving Giveaway.

In this post: Craving a turkey-flavored gumball?

It’s late, Sam just got home from work and I really didn’t plan to write another Howdygram post tonight, but I wanted to announce our first-ever STUPID THANKSGIVING GIVEAWAY, where three fortunate Howdygram readers will win themselves a tin of valuable and tasty THANKSGIVING GUMBALLS just in time for the big holiday! Each tin includes an assortment of three unforgettable flavors: Turkey, Cranberry and Pumpkin Pie. (I guess you’re on your own if you need gravy.)

The town of Milford blew up yesterday.

In this post: Today’s finds, crappy feet, Chevron makes a boo-boo.

It’s the middle of the night and my feet hurt (again) so I decided to horse around with the Howdygram until I’m ready to go back to bed. To keep myself occupied in the meantime I just ordered three very cute cotton knit turtlenecks — white, yellow and pink — at 25% off with free shipping. FREE SHIPPING! And because it looks seriously stupid to display a hunk of summer flowers on your front door in the middle of November, I also ordered a winter wreath on sale from Kirklands.com that’s NOT “ho-ho-ho,” a Christmas bow on steroids or a gigantic poinsettia. (I hate poinsettias. You can ask anybody.)

Today is World Diabetes Day.

In this post: Diabetes has a holiday, TV news, crustless pizza, an adorable toddler.

First, before I forget, I’ve got a Howdygram public service announcement to share with you. This is WORLD DIABETES DAY, an event commemorated annually on November 14 by the International Diabetes Federation (IDF). The IDF’s campaign is designed to draw attention to issues of paramount importance to the diabetes world and keeps diabetes firmly in the public spotlight. In other words, stop eating crap like THIS or you’ll end up with miserable feet and a refrigerator full of insulin. (I speak from experience. Thank you.)

A Joan Rivers plastic surgery retrospective.

In this post: A change of face, a full life.

I don’t know if you’re a fan or not, but here’s a Howdygram retrospective on nearly five decades of Joan Rivers’ plastic surgery. Joan celebrated her 80th birthday in June and I think she looks amazing even if you almost can’t recognize her any more.

Sam and I are trying to eat our old frozen crap before investing in new frozen crap.

In this post: Exhaustion, frozen adventures.

I feel miserable right now after three measly hours of sleep. I’m cold, I’m crabby, my brain is stuffed with cotton balls, my knees are killing me and I’m too damn tired to EAT. Something’s seriously wrong with me when I’m too tired to eat. To tell you the truth, all I really want to do is collapse on the chaise in the family room with my faux mink blanket (his name is Mister Furry) EXCEPT we’re expecting our biweekly Schwan’s delivery this morning at 11:30, Sam is out running errands and I have to stay awake long enough to answer the door and shove our chicken thingies and mozzarella sticks in the freezer.

We’re definitely not gourmets. We’re not even picky.

In this post: Fragrant knockoffs, a first freeze, Sam & Marcy plan Thanksgiving.

Howdy. It’s the middle of the night — 4:13 a.m., to be precise — and we’re having our first official freeze right now in north Texas. The house is nice and warm, Sam is asleep, and I’m parked in the study sucking TicTacs and marinating myself with the new perfume oil roll-on thingies I got in the mail yesterday from FragranceShop.com.

Rob Ford is bigger than you and threatens to murder people.

In this post: Poor Toronto, Louie Gohmert rides again, anticipating loot.

I desperately want to write a Howdygram post today but I can’t think of a topic or a clever opening line or even a joke. Therefore, I’ll begin with the following glamour shot portrait of Rob Ford, the alcoholic, crack-smoking mayor of Toronto, Canada, one of North America’s most beautiful cities.

Haunted by the ghosts of carbohydrates past.

In this post: Hypoglycemia, special deliveries, a Putz of the Week, a movie review.

I woke up from a nice, long nap around 4:30 this afternoon and for no valid reason whatsoever discovered that my blood sugar had plummeted to 50. FIFTY! Why the hell would this happen, when I injected a calculated dose of insulin at lunch time? Am I being plagued by demons? Haunted by the ghosts of carbohydrates past?

Life as we know it will resume tomorrow.

In this post: A Costco emergency, groundbreaking news from Amazon, celebrating veterans.

While Sam is on his way to Costco for emergency supplies — breakfast burritos, potato salad, frozen hamburgers, sushi and a sack of pistachios — I’ve got a HUGE ONCE-IN-A-LIFETIME ANNOUNCEMENT to share with you. According to news reports this morning, Amazon has hooked up with the U.S. Postal Service to begin DELIVERING CRAP ON SUNDAYS! They’ll start right away with New York and Los Angeles, then expand to Dallas, Houston, Phoenix and New Orleans in 2014. I’m so excited I could have a brain hemorrhage!

Marina Oswald shops at Wal-Mart.

In this post: Celebrity shoppers.

As we approach the 50th anniversary of John F. Kennedy’s assassination you may be interested to know that Lee Harvey Oswald’s widow, Marina, is a grandmother and retiree who lives in Rockwall, Texas with her second husband. She’s 72 years old and shops at Wal-Mart. I’ll bet she also shops at the Rockwall Costco — the finest Costco in the United States — which means Sam could bump into her sometime buying cheap toilet paper or Brownie Brittle. Holy crap, right?

I’m finally done with my now-former deadbeat client from hell.

In this post: Divorcing a client, re-sheeting a bed, throwing pillows.

As I write this post Sam is at the post office mailing a large, joyously evil envelope to my now-former deadbeat client from hell in California. Her elusive “overnight check” — the one that missed four deadlines since October 1, got lost in the mail twice and took five weeks to get here — finally arrived yesterday via UPS and is on its way back to her today. Unopened.

She doesn’t know it yet, but WE’RE DONE. And I’m one giant leap closer to retirement!

Sam will be so excited to find $4.5 million in our checking account!

In this post: Blender entertainment, lemon curd, a Hanukkah windfall, the perfect Patty Melt.

Hi. I’m hungry. While I decide what’s for dinner tonight I think I’ll bake myself a lovely low-carb crustless cheesecake, which is an easy recipe that you throw together in one convenient bowl with an immersion blender. You can also use a regular blender, but the immersion thing is more interactive and provides substantial entertainment value. I don’t get to use mine often enough. (Damn.)

The truth about Wal-Mart’s finest-quality $20 microfiber sheets.

In this post: A microfiber bedtime story. 

I hate my sheets. This is the second night in a row I woke up hot as hell at 4 a.m., and I know these sheets are the reason why. And it’s unfortunate, too, because they’re Wal-Mart’s finest-quality $20 microfiber sheets — that’s not a typo: 20 bucks for a set of king-size sheets! — and to the touch they’re soft as silk and light as air. Too bad the damn things don’t BREATHE.

November 4 was the absolutely final no-more-horseshit deadline.

In this post: The client from hell (again).

Like nuclear waste, some deadly slime never goes away ... and my client from hell is certainly one of them. You may recall her never-ending sack of excuses lies regarding money she owes for website hosting dating back to October 1. Since that time:

OCTOBER 11. Her money order gets lost in the mail. She’s confused. She promises a replacement by the 15th.

OCTOBER 17. The replacement check doesn’t arrive. She’s VERY upset about the U.S. postal service. I take her website offline for non-payment.

Here’s Joan Crawford in “Torch Song” … the “Reefer Madness” of musicals.

In this post: The sponge chronicles, “Mammy Dearest.”

Sam is working late tonight so I decided to kill time by expanding my Subscribe & Save list on Amazon. I just added tasty Hi Lo Vanilla Almond low-carb cereal and a six-pack of Scotch Brite ever-popular scrubby sponges. The blue ones. Last time I tried Scotch Brite’s hipster “Greener Clean” scrubby sponges — the beige ones made from recycled crap — and I hated the damn things because they break apart into annoying little fibers and smell to high heaven.

I’m buying new shoes for Sam this week.

In this post: Pre-holiday shopping, wonderful feet.

There’s not much to do around here when Wal-Mart’s website is down. According to a news report they had a technical glitch this morning that dropped the prices on some of their most expensive products (cameras, projectors, electronics, etc.) into the single digits, and frenzied online shoppers had a collective brain hemorrhage snapping up bargains and posting the deals on social media. Apparently everything was sold out in a matter of minutes. In my case, I was only trying to buy a jumbo jar of Imodium but the website was completely offline by then. When I decided to kill some time on ABCNews.com I found out what happened. I guess Black Friday came early this year. Holy crap.

It’s the big time for Terrell, Texas.

In this post: Brawls and truck stops.

There’s breaking news tonight from Texas! Apparently Plano police arrested two 17-year-old boys after a fight broke out at a popular Whataburger restaurant on Coit Road Friday night following the Plano and Plano West high school football game. It’s not clear what caused the brawl — just a wild guess ... maybe the team that lost? — but the following video from a cell phone camera captured some of the fun. You will be pleased to know that no underage French fries were injured in the mêlée.

One more thing.

In this post: Complete “Columbo,” classic Kors, annihilation for the client from hell.

So here’s the thing. When you drink half a gallon of sugar-free Hawaiian Punch 30 minutes before you go to bed you can bet the farm that you’ll wake up by 3 a.m. to pee. And so it was. Except instead of going back to bed I decided to horse around online for a while and ordered the complete set of “Columbo” DVDs — starring the unforgettable Peter Falk — from Amazon at a really-cheap-for-Christmas discount price of $52.49 with free shipping. Holy crap, I’m so damn excited I practically can’t stand it! (Don’t tell Sam, okay? I want to surprise him.)

Never allow the lying sacks of poo at Weather.com to deter you from your civic obligation.

In this post: Pins and needles, still kvetching, propositioned in Texas.

Oh boy! Sam came home from Wal-Mart this morning with two cartons of my favorite insulin syringes! In case you ever want to send me a present that’s appropriate for just about any occasion, the kind I use are 1 mL/cc, 29-gauge, 12.7 mm needle length, and Wal-Mart sells them cheap in boxes of 100. Thank you for your kind consideration.

Crappy side effects, epic naps, gefilte fish and retro sex.

In this post: A message to Texans, diabetes sucks, historical erotica.

3 A.M. I’m parked at my desk with a headache and a nice tall Marcytini. Sam and I went to bed at midnight but I woke up two hours later with a miserable wet rash all over my body thanks to another battle with hypothermia. This is is a very crappy side effect of diabetic autonomic neuropathy and usually ends with a rash whenever my body tries too hard to generate its own heat. So I decide to take a shower at 2 a.m., and now I have to hang around until my hair dries because I don’t want the blow dryer to disturb Sam. It’s always something. Holy crap.

Relief efforts are underway. The Red Cross is requesting beer and barbecue sauce.

In this post: Casino capers, earthquake relief, the Duggars make me sick.

Even though Sam and I enjoyed our drive to Oklahoma this morning, this actually turned out NOT to be a very good day for me at the Choctaw Casino for the following reasons: 1) I woke up with crappy joint pain even though I had more than enough sleep and felt not too bad otherwise; 2) my taste buds were virtually nonexistent today — blame it on diabetic neuropathy — and everything on the buffet had NO FLAVOR WHATSOEVER including the pea salad and sugar-free pie I’ve been obsessing about for the last two months; and 3) I lost $40 at the penny slots. FORTY BUCKS! You have to be awfully damn lame (not to mention SERIOUSLY UNLUCKY) to pull off a stunt like that. On the plus side, however, the scooter rental was pleasant as hell and Sam won an excellent jackpot at the Cash Wizard slot machine!

Tomorrow we get to cross the Red River and moo at lots of cattle.

In this post: Shopping options, time travel.

Good news, people! It’s still my birthday for three more hours, which means there’s still a decent window of opportunity to send a present. I suggest Amazon.com. Thank you.

Do not screw with Cheetos!

In this post: Dye jobs, a birthday lament.

It was a big win for well-intentioned Einsteins who spend their time petitioning corporations to make processed food slightly less poisonous, because Kraft announced on Thursday that they’ll begin removing dyes from their frighteningly-orange macaroni and cheese.

Before you have a brain hemorrhage about this, however, please note that Kraft’s semi-empty gesture will only remove Yellow 5 and Yellow 6 dyes from SpongeBob Squarepants, Halloween and “winter shapes” mac and cheese. This announcement from Kraft will surely thrill the nutjob over-protective moms who are petitioning Mars, Inc. to remove the dyes from M&Ms because they cause hyperactivity in children. Here’s a thought: maybe you should feed your hyperactive kids LESS SUGAR!

Yes, friends, I’m one of “those people.” I don’t answer the door for trick-or-treaters.

In this post: Still Halloween, a birthday wish-list.

In Texas, “above average” is a five-star sushi review.

In this post: Happy Halloween, goodies from Costco, the drought goes on.

First, happy Halloween. Second, Sam is on his way to Costco as I write this post. Today’s list includes practically all of our regular favorites, such as: 1) an industrial-size package of surprisingly excellent lox; 2) sushi; 3) two kinds of sliced cheese; 4) breakfast burritos; and 5) two extra-large sacks of chocolate chip Brownie Brittle so Sam can bring one to work today for Halloween. Incidentally, Costco’s sushi is definitely above average, but please remember that I live in Texas and “above average” is a five-star sushi review here.

Seriously, nobody else sells wasabi lip balm.

In this post: Sweets for Sam, great gifts from Archie McFee.

As a quick update to my last post, Sam finally got home this morning at 8:15 after 18 consecutive hours at the office. He was in surprisingly good spirits — the project apparently went well — but holy crap, nobody gets paid enough to work hours like that! Sam slept on and off until 2:30 this afternoon, ate some leftover pizza, showered and went back to work around 3:30. As a bonus the big Halloween surprise I ordered for him on Amazon showed up via FedEx about half an hour before he left ... TWO BAGS OF BRACH’S FALL FLAVORS CARAMEL CANDY CORN. Sugar solves everything.

Worship at the Church of the Giant Weenie.

In this post: Weenie worship, more slave labor.

Mazel tov to the Christian Science Society of Dixon, Illinois, who built a church that looks like a great big phallus with testicles when viewed by Google Earth from outer space. I’ll bet it wasn’t intentional but it’s definitely outrageously adorable. Holy crap, right?

I’ll make you a grilled cheese sandwich if you’ll screw in a light bulb for me.

In this post: Slave labor, fashion and fragrance, living in the dark.

Sam just called to tell me he’s working late tonight. In official “Samspeak,” however, this means he’ll be in the office ALL NIGHT LONG (and all by himself) until first shift comes in at 7 a.m. To drown my disappointment I decided to buy the following cute charcoal gray wool poncho because my birthday is Friday and I’m figuring ... what the hell, why not?

Murder and mayhem in Terrell, Texas.

In this post: First aid, a preponderance of socks, murder and mayhem.

Here’s something I’ll bet you didn’t know about me: I LOVE TEENY BAND-AIDS. You know, the ones that are no bigger than a return address label. They’re always the last Band-Aids left in the box because nobody can ever figure out what the hell to use them for, but I think you should hang onto them forever in case you get a microscopic injury such as a hangnail or small-calibre gunshot wound. This has been a Howdygram public service announcement. (You can thank me later.)

We’re doing a caffeine-fueled happy dance this morning at Howdygram headquarters.

In this post: Cheap caffeine, Sam has a toothache.

It’s 9 a.m. Tuesday and Sam is on his way to the dentist. First, however, he has to stop at Wal-Mart because I’m running low on Coke Zero — holy crap and God forbid — and he needs one can of Folgers to tide him over until our gigantic coffee order arrives on Thursday from Amazon. In case you’re interested, about half an hour ago I bought 12 cans of Folgers Hazelnut (Sam’s favorite) for only $58, and that’s MIGHTY DAMN CHEAP, people. We’re doing a caffeine-fueled happy dance this morning at Howdygram headquarters!