An American horror story about drugs.

In this post: Just say NO.

Hey, I’ve got a modern American horror story for you and it has nothing whatsoever to do with ghouls, chainsaws, an alien invasion or Republicans. The subject tonight is DRUGS. Ready? Sam wanted to pick up my new prescription cholesterol medication this afternoon at Wal-Mart so I called ahead to ask about the price, and when the pharmacy assistant told me the co-pay is $274 for a 30-day supply — after I had a nervous breakdown — I calmly replied, “FAT CHANCE! TAKE A HIKE! NO WAY! GOOD LUCK WITH THAT! WHEN HELL FREEZES OVER!” Incidentally, this was my new prescription for Welchol, the medication Dr. M prescribed on Thursday with pills as big as South Dakota (see previous post). I’m assuming they’re made from Black Hills gold or maybe plutonium because nothing else on earth could make a stupid cholesterol drug so insanely expensive. Holy crap.

Our home phone voice mail stopped working on April 11 and we didn’t even know it.

In this post: Kidneys, outages, Howdygram 2.

I’ll begin with the results of this week’s lab work, okay? Dr. M sent me an email Friday evening and the news is swell, especially finding out that MY KIDNEY FUNCTION IS NORMAL following three years of slow but steady decline. In case you’re wondering, I never really detected a problem with my kidneys in any way whatsoever because the “decline” was something that only showed up in blood tests. Nevertheless, if anybody wants to help me celebrate please send an email at your earliest convenience and I’ll order Chinese food.

Muzzlestroking ammosexuals plan a rally at Home Depot.

In this post: Grout people, skeeters, dipshits.

I promised to come back tonight, and here I am. Please hold your applause, okay?

First on my list is an update on our never-ending remodeling project in the master bathroom, dragging on forever at the hands of the grout people. I won’t rehash the entire nauseating story in any detail tonight, so if you want to know more please click the following links to all of my earlier posts: click click click click click click click click click and click. And now here’s the aforementioned update. Clayton, leader of the grout people, and Tim, the main dude from Binswanger Glass, were here at Howdygram headquarters on May 22 to diagnose the leak in our shower and arrange for Tim’s company to handle the repair ... but that was the last time we heard from either of them. We found out this morning that Clayton gave Tim the WRONG PHONE NUMBER, so every time he tried to call me to set up an appointment he left the message on somebody else’s voice mail. I WANT TO STRANGLE THESE PEOPLE.

Oscar Mayer pickle & pimiento loaf is the meal of a lifetime.

In this post: Oscar Mayer, emergency fundraising.

I just enjoyed the MEAL OF A LIFETIME, people ... Oscar Mayer pickle & pimiento loaf on toasty low-carb hotdog buns with folded American cheese singles! This was actually an outrageously late lunch at 4 p.m. because I napped until 1:30 and then forgot to eat for a couple of hours after Sam left for work at 2:15. But minutiae aside, I seriously believe that Oscar Mayer pickle & pimiento loaf is becoming my favorite go-to meal because it’s so damn delicious and appropriate for every occasion including birthdays.

My new cholesterol pills are as big as South Dakota.

In this post: Improvements, medical recap, a Thursday bloodbath.

Ready for a gigantic news flash? For the last 24 hours I’ve had an uncontrollable urge to create Howdygram 2 with all the popular wit, charm and content as my current blog except we’d have a whole new look and a WHITE BACKGROUND because I’m so sick of beige I might have a stroke. Plus ... the old Howdygram (this one) would have a link to the new one in case you forget to bookmark the URL.

So what’s the time frame for all this hoo-hah? Well ... Sam will be in L.A. visiting family for nine days in the middle of June so I thought I’d try to launch the new blog while he’s away. This is monumentally exciting for me, people, so please stay tuned for additional developments and tell your friends, okay?

Say goodbye to Ralph Hall, the only member of Congress who knew Bonnie & Clyde.

In this post: Old goats, lousy chickens.

Yo. I’m tired, and here’s why. Sam and I hung out in the family room until 3 a.m. watching old Bob Newhart reruns, I woke up at 5:45 for my middle-of-the-night senior citizen bathroom adventure and couldn’t fall asleep when I went back to bed so I thrashed around for about an hour, annoyed Sam, couldn’t get comfortable and eventually wound up here in the study reading the latest baloney on Gawker and Jezebel. Trouble is, I’ve got a doctor appointment this morning at 10 and that’s just about the time I need a solid morning nap if I don’t sleep well the night before. Sucks to be me, doesn’t it?

“I don’t want to be a cold-blooded killer of police officers” would be an excellent campaign slogan.

In this post: Shopping extravaganzas, a duo of douchebags.

Aside from braunschweiger sandwiches and afternoon naps the most fun a senior citizen can have at Howdygram headquarters is SHOPPING, so I began yesterday with a modest extravaganza on Amazon that included a foaming soap pump for the master bathroom, a pair of 28-inch telescoping backscratchers for yours truly and The Inspector General DVD starring Danny Kaye. It just doesn’t get much better than this!

There’s no better way to remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice than to buy a bunch of crap on sale.

In this post: Memorial Day, on this date in history, muu-muus.

We never made it to Hong Kong Royal yesterday for dim sum. I had to settle for grilled cheese on low-carb white bread with sugar-free sweet pickles because I was asleep almost all day — just like Saturday — and couldn’t talk myself into wearing a brassiere for any reason whatsoever, including shrimp dumplings. I felt like a first-class sloth and loved every minute of it. How’s your three-day weekend shaping up?

For a limited time ... free high-class Obamacare bumper stickers!

In this post: Insomnia, barfy images.

4:13 A.M. It’s the middle of the night and I can’t sleep again, although this time I think I’ll blame my predicament on way too many Saturday naps. There were THREE. (Oy.)

It’s not every senior citizen who gets two Sausage McMuffins without begging.

In this post: Food.

Pictured above is McDonald’s world-famous Sausage McMuffin — the Howdygram’s all-time favorite breakfast sandwich not counting braunschweiger on low-carb white toast with sweet relish — and Sam is on his way to McDonald’s RIGHT THIS MINUTE to grab a pair of these fine babies for me. Actually, he goes on a doughnut run every Saturday morning and stops at McDonald’s for me on the way home, but I’m thankful just the same. It’s not every senior citizen who gets two Sausage McMuffins without begging ... AND I DON’T EVEN HAVE TO PAY FOR THEM! Holy crap, am I lucky or what?

Kesha Rogers is a fake Texas Democrat campaigning for President Obama’s impeachment.

In this post: Crappy shoes, crappy food, a crappy candidate.

Before diving into the subject du jour — RAMPANT AND SCARY FOOD POISONING — I’ll begin this post with a quick review of the atrocious fake suede mules for huge feet that arrived yesterday from Roamans.com. Please bear with me for a minute while I try to describe them accurately for you, okay? The “faux suede” is actually TEXTURED CARDBOARD, the pretend buckle is plastic, the entire base of the shoe is rock-hard styrofoam with a sprayed-on black rubber edge, and the insole is an artificial cork material with edges so sharp you could surgically remove multiple toes. Sam shipped them back for me first this morning along with a snotty note that began with the words “HOW DARE YOU CHARGE MONEY FOR CRAP LIKE THIS.”

Invasion of the grout people.

In this post: Remodeling disasters, spray-painted savages, a USDA recall.

I’ll begin with a lede sentence you’ve seen here before in various iterations: Howdygram headquarters was invaded this afternoon by grout people AND glass people! Clayton, leader of the grout people, and Tim, representing Binswanger Glass, conferred together adjacent to Sam’s favorite toilet and managed to figure out, after two months of inept repairs, exactly where, why and how the shower in our master bathroom continues to leak puddles onto the stone floor. They made plans for another overhaul — hopefully for the last time — after Memorial Day. I am simultaneously excited, hopeful, skeptical, despondent, mildly nauseated and irked. I’ll need therapy by the time we’re done with this. Or at least a lot of braunschweiger.

TCM’s 72-hour war movie marathon starts Saturday before sun-up.

In this post: War movies remembered.

Now that I’m a retired person with a limp who collects Social Security it’s not always easy to know for sure what day of the week it is or if a holiday’s coming up. For instance, I never would have remembered this is Memorial Day weekend except for: 1) Sam’s announcement today at lunch (i.e., “YEE-HAW! THREE DAYS OFF!”); and 2) TCM’s 72-hour war movie marathon starting Saturday before sun-up. To help you navigate TCM’s offerings I’ve decided to list my personal favorites for your possible interest. Check your local listings for times, okay?

I feel like a whole new senior citizen since I stopped taking Fenofibric Acid last week.

In this post: Socks, side effects, Happy Meals.

If you turn up the volume for a minute you’ll be able to hear that it’s LAUNDRY DAY at Howdygram headquarters. As I write this post there’s a load of Sam’s socks in the washer and a mountain of my favorite robes, caftans and stretchy lounging attire spinning around in the dryer. I can do these entertaining “housewifey” things today because I feel like A WHOLE NEW SENIOR CITIZEN since I stopped taking Fenofibric Acid last week, an evil cholesterol medication (see previous post) that tried to murder me with pain. I have an appointment next week with Dr. M and I’m pretty sure she’ll be frustrated by this latest development because I need something to help lower my cholesterol. Unfortunately, during the last four years I’ve had to discontinue every available drug due to HORRIBLE SIDE EFFECTS that included such gems as severe muscle pain and tenderness, muscle weakness, muscle cramps, exhaustion, joint pain, difficulty breathing, itching, unintentional weight gain and uncontrollable urination. I can hardly wait to find out what’s next.

Families and children do not want deranged gun fetishists eating burritos in the next booth with high-powered rifles.

In this post: Food, guns, dickheads.

Damn. Sam just called to let me know he’s still stuck at the office and probably won’t be home until after midnight. This means I have to endure BOREDOM and NOBODY TO SCRATCH MY BACK for at least another 45 minutes, which is a mighty depressing thought. In the meantime maybe I’ll eat things because lots of food can solve almost anything ... except possibly obesity.

Do you ever pause to appreciate the devastating simplicity of genuine morons?

In this post: Missing mules, crappy service, morons.

Show of hands. Do you ever pause to appreciate the devastating simplicity of genuine morons? This morning I submitted a customer service contact form on Roamans.com because the FedEx tracking number they provided on May 16 for my new fake suede mules for huge feet (see right) isn’t producing any results whatsoever. The error message appears below.

Shopping is the perfect antidote to miserable national and international news.

In this post: Shopping sprees.

In case you’re experiencing a negative sensory overload — like yours truly — from endlessly miserable national and international news, the Howdygram would like to recommend the perfect antidote: SHOPPING ONLINE FOR CHEAP BUT WONDERFUL CRAP. Today I engaged in the following mini-therapy sprees. First up: Wal-Mart.

Nothing says “get well soon” like teeny tacos.

In this post: Costco emergency.

I woke up in the middle the night with a low blood sugar episode. And if that’s not lousy enough, at 4:30 a.m. I almost choked to death on a glucose tablet (they dissolve in your mouth like gigantic SweeTarts) and then coughed myself into a migraine headache by 5:45. I ask you, who the hell needs this? Thank God Sam is already on his way to Costco because nothing says “get well soon” like TEENY TACOS. The rest of Sam’s emergency shopping list includes: 1) a great big tub of tortellini salad with salami; 2) chicken tamales; 3) raspberries; 4) a box of frozen cooked Angus burgers with tasty grill marks; 5) salt & pepper pistachios; 6) whole mushrooms in a jar; and 7) breakfast burritos. Not everything is pictured below because I didn’t feel like it. Try to move on, okay?

I never thought it would be such a huge hoo-hah to find a comfortable and reliable place to sit down.

In this post: Grout people, seating issues.

Clayton, leader of the grout people, dropped in this morning to assess the latest crisis with the shower in our master bathroom. To help him better understand where the current leak is coming from Sam jumped into a Speedo, turned on the water full blast and sat on the bench in the shower until a visible little puddle began to form on the bathroom floor. It was pure genius. Clayton realized that his crew didn’t re-hang the frame and glass correctly four visits ago so he volunteered to hire REAL GLASS PEOPLE to redo it from scratch sometime next week.

Tens of millions forget to show up for Operation Putzfest.

In this post: Grout people, Cliven Bundy, Operation Putzfest.

Okay, first I have to apologize for lying in my last post. Clayton, leader of the grout people, called about half an hour ago to ask if he could come over tomorrow instead of today because TRAFFIC and RUSH HOUR. Plus he knows Sam isn’t home tonight. Wise move. Clayton obviously realizes I plan to beat the living crap out of him and he thinks Sam would stop me. (He’d be wrong, by the way.)

The grout people have to come back today. Would anybody mind if I killed them?

In this post: Diabetes bargains, caulking cretins.

It’s almost 3:30 in the afternoon here and my Friday is finally beginning to take shape. Let me see if I can sum it all up for you, okay?

HUNGER. I haven’t eaten since breakfast but I don’t expect you to feel sorry for me or anything because I’ve got leftover egg foo young and one egg roll.

A LOW-CARB SHOPPING SPREE. My Friday afternoon shopping spree included the following essential products from Netrition.com. This is my first time trying Walden Farms’ zero-calorie Russian and thousand island dressings and I’m hoping they’re just as good as Walden Farms’ cole slaw goo. (Their cole slaw goo is OUTSTANDING.)

Dialysis ... what every diabetic wants for Hanukkah.

In this post: The Death Pill, Sausage McMuffins.

About yesterday. I tried like the devil to write a Howdygram post — and failed miserably — because I had so much excruciating pain in my legs I couldn’t even sit at my desk. Once again I’m positive it’s my cholesterol medication that’s doing this. For a couple of years two “killer” statin drugs — Atorvastatin and Pravastatin — caused the same problem, so Dr. M switched me to Fenofibric Acid about five months ago. Here at Howdygram headquarters, however, Fenofibric Acid is frequently referred to as THE DEATH PILL because I’ve developed all of the following side effects: 1) severe muscle pain and tenderness; 2) stiffness; 3) muscle weakness; 4) exhaustion; 5) joint pain; 6) unintentional weight gain (it couldn’t be the Cheetos, right?); and 7) uncontrollable urination. And if that’s not crappy enough, the muscle pain can launch a VERY serious condition called rhabdomyolysis, in which muscle tissue tears away from the bone, muscle fibers enter the bloodstream and you wind up with acute renal failure. Dialysis ... what every diabetic wants for Hanukkah.

The right wing loves America so much they want to overthrow its Constitutionally-elected government.

In this post: Dietary needs, crackpots.

Apparently seven Internet trolls are really upset that I referred to Second Amendment activist Kory Watkins as a dipshit in a couple of recent Howdygram posts (click here and here) so I’ll be a gracious blogger and apologize for offending them. Kory Watkins is not a dipshit. KORY WATKINS IS A STUPID POO-POO HEAD WITH AN UNATTRACTIVE HAT. Is that better? Is everybody happy now?

This might be a fine time to continue kvetching about my health.

In this post: Kvetch report, trolls, mysteries, big pizzas.

Since I really don’t have anything specific lined up for today’s Howdygram post I’m thinking this might be a fine time to bring back a favorite, time-tested topic: KVETCHING ABOUT MY HEALTH. For instance, my complaints du jour include: 1) severe muscle pain/fatigue in my shins, calves, thighs and lower back; 2) my body temperature is 95.4°; 3) a hangnail; and 4) I can’t think of anything else. To tell you the truth, items 1 and 2 make me want to lie down in the family room wrapped in Mr. Furry (my very fluffy faux mink blanket) and watch Margaret Rutherford movies in the dark until Sam gets home from work because it hurts too damn much to stand up or walk. Plus my digestion isn’t so good right now.

Our lawns, trees and reservoirs are laughing at the sky.

In this post: Thunderstorms, return of the dipshit.

That sound you hear? THUNDERSTORMS! Big, fat, juicy thunderstorms with heavy rain and wind and lightning and garbage can lids twirling down the street. This is GLORIOUS, people! We’re expecting another three or more inches of rain by the time this weather event ends tomorrow afternoon. Our lawns, trees and reservoirs are laughing at the sky. The red star on the following map indicates Howdygram headquarters.

Here’s a portrait of my new Alera Merix 450 Series heavy-duty ergonomic mesh chair for big butts.

In this post: Storms, seating, haircuts.

The big hoo-hah around here today is RAIN. More accurately, this should be RAIN AND HEAVY THUNDERSTORMS FOLLOWED BY FLASH FLOODING AND A COLD FRONT. At 8:45 a.m. water is already pouring out of the sky and the lying sacks of poo at Weather.com tell us to expect a lot of intense weather for the next 36 hours. For once in my life I think I actually believe them! The teeny red star on the following map denotes Howdygram headquarters.

My uterus fell out in 1990. No regrets.

In this post: Mothers, gridlock, movies.

It’s 7:15 Sunday morning and Sam is still asleep, so I’d like to take a minute to wish y’all a very Happy Mother’s Day if you’re a mother. If you’re NOT please scroll down to the next section at your earliest possible convenience. (Incidentally, I am not a mother and never wanted to be. My uterus fell out in 1990. No regrets.)

I wonder if rich people own chain saws.

In this post: Rainfall totals, William Holden.

I have some absolutely swell news to report from Howdygram headquarters, drought-wise. The storm system that plowed through the Dallas area on Thursday deposited 5.11 inches of rain and the level of Lake Ray Hubbard Reservoir rose by 8 inches. THAT’S REALLY HUGE, PEOPLE. Apparently they’re expecting the reservoir to rise even more with the runoff from area creeks and tributaries, which are all above flood stage right now … especially Duck Creek, which is practically right around the corner and runs through Mesquite and Garland. I’M SO DAMN HAPPY I COULD SLAP AN ARMADILLO! For your possible interest the map below indicates: A) Howdygram headquarters; B) Duck Creek; C) Lake Ray Hubbard Reservoir; and D) our favorite Denny’s at I-30 and Belt Line. We like their Senior Scrambled Eggs.

Meet Kory Watkins, the ultimate Texas dipshit.

In this post: Fun food, a Texas dipshit, naps.

Know what? Sam did a Costco shlep this morning, which means: 1) great big packages of our favorite teeny tacos and breakfast burritos; 2) a tub of squishy mozzarella balls floating in tasty oily crap with green things (I think the technical name for this is “marinade”); 3) really, really good chicken tamales in GENUINE CORN HUSKS; 4) raspberries; and 5) Brownie Brittle. Forgive me if I sound hysterical but I love this crap. I really do. Sam also had instructions to stop at our neighborhood Wal-Mart for a trunk full of emergency Coke Zeros (I ran out yesterday and had a brain hemorrhage) and four jars of teeny whole mushrooms in salt-flavored preservatives because CRAVINGS.

Weather.com is a useless sack of poo.

In this post: Twisters, rants.

I’ve decided to report today’s activities with an easy-to-follow timeline because there’s so much going on around here I almost don’t know where to start. Thank you.

I injected a pint of insulin for dinner and ordered a pizza. It was worth it.

In this post: Sirens, weather, toilet paper, Russians.

In case you’re been wondering what’s been going on around here I’ll provide a thorough Wednesday retrospective from the bowels of Howdygram headquarters.

What does a retiree wear to an aneurysm screening? I might need a new outfit.

In this post: The tamale cure, depressing invitations.

Sometimes it sucks to be me. Yesterday, for the first time ever, the pain in my right hand was so intense I COULDN’T TYPE A HOWDYGRAM POST. Since today isn’t really much better, either, I’ve decided just to eat a can of Hormel tamales — a trusted, medically-approved remedy for diabetic peripheral neuropathy — and press on. For the record, my fingers won’t bend and my hand stings like all the bones are broken. Imagine catching a speeding baseball bare-handed. I think you get my drift.

Don’t forget to turn out the light when you’re done here, okay?

In this post: Egg rolls, Robert Wagner.

It’s 1:45 Tuesday morning. Sam won’t be home from work until maybe 5 a.m. so I thought I’d try to squeeze in one more quick Howdygram post before I go to bed. We’ll see how long I last. I didn’t get much of a nap yesterday so I’m mighty tired right now. Try not to make any unnecessary noise.

Welcome to another chapter of Sam & Marcy’s Adventures in Inadequate Remodeling.

In this post: Another leak, another Putz.

Hey, boys and girls. Believe it or not, Clayton and his crew were back again today in their never-ending quest to repair the shower leak in our master bathroom ... THEIR SEVENTH ATTEMPT IN THREE WEEKS. Each time they show up we can’t use the shower for at least 48 hours afterwards due to wet caulk, grout and paint, and today they’re actually leaving us with a high-velocity fan turned on full-blast so everything dries as fast as possible because Sam and I are ready to start strangling people. In case you’re interested, Friday’s all-day repair went south last night when we turned on the shower and wound up with a substantial puddle on the bathroom floor and a crack in the brand new drywall. Please stay tuned for the next chapter of Sam & Marcy’s Adventures in Inadequate Remodeling. Thank you for your support.

Has anybody tried Amazon’s cool new Prime Pantry service?

In this post: Blizzards, Prime Pantry, jigsaw puzzles.

It’s a really hot spring day today in north Texas … 93° with lots of bright sunshine and gusty winds. I’m comfortably situated in the study horsing around with the Howdygram and Sam is working his way through the the Dairy Queen drive-thru buying an “extremely chocolate Blizzard” (his words exactly). I didn’t go with him because DIABETES. Also there was zero motivation to wear shoes and a brassiere.

We really don’t give a crap about Kentucky, derbies, horses, races, roses or yahoos in hats.

In this post: Derby day, Tyson’s lied, fast food news.

Here’s some late-breaking news from the Howdygram Sports Desk: CALIFORNIA CHROME WON THE KENTUCKY DERBY. Sam and I didn’t actually watch because: 1) after lunch we fell asleep in the family room with Another Thin Man (1939) starring William Powell, Myrna Loy and C. Aubrey Smith; and 2) we really don’t give a crap about Kentucky, derbies, horses, races, roses or yahoos in hats.

Maybe the next special committee will investigate dinosaurs on Noah’s Ark.

In this post: Benghazi.

It’s been my fondest wish for quite some to do an all-Benghazi post for the Howdygram, and this, my friends, is it!

In a statement yesterday Speaker of the House John Boehner called for yet another investigation into the Republican-promoted “travesty” of a 2012 attack on the U.S. diplomatic outpost in Libya. Boehner said: “Americans learned this week that the Obama administration is so intent on obstructing the truth about Benghazi that it is even willing to defy subpoenas issued by the standing committees of the people’s House. These revelations compel the House to take every possible action to ensure the American people have the truth about the terrorist attack on our consulate that killed four of our countrymen.”  

Grab a jar of Hellmann’s and celebrate Cinco de Mayo!

In this post: Mud pits, Cinco de Mayo.

Hey there, people. I’m waiting for Sam to get home from work and thought I’d share a short video of a really cute local NBC news doofus trying to cover a story about the drought in north Texas and how our local lakes have all turned into mud pits and boaters are having nervous breakdowns. He’s actually reporting from the lovely Lake Ray Hubbard Reservoir, which is about five minutes east of Howdygram headquarters. Unfortunately the video’s embed code isn’t working (I’ve been pasting and re-pasting the damn thing for 15 minutes) so just use the following link:

Texas is run by a financial terrorist who also happens to be really, really stupid.

In this post: Food delivery, palpatations, Governor Hairdo.

As I hang around waiting for my Friday evening delivery from Artizone.com — baloney with olives! homemade tamales! bean salad! sliced turkey! — I thought I’d overshare some crap from yesterday when I experienced two exciting new symptoms of autonomic neuropathy, which is defined as follows by the National Library of Medicine:

Autonomic neuropathy is a group of symptoms that occur from damage to the nerves that manage everyday body functions, such as blood pressure, heart rate, sweating, body temperature, bladder control and digestion. Autonomic neuropathy is most frequently caused by diabetes.

We still don’t know what’s responsible for The Dinty Moore Dumpling Incident.

In this post: The shower saga continues, flying dumplings, Jane Powell.

There are so many EARTH-SHAKING HOT SCOOPS today at Howdygram headquarters I almost don’t know where to start. Maybe the best approach would be to separate everything into neatly-typed, indented sections for your reading pleasure. I hope you’ll consider turning off your phone until you’re through here to avoid interruptions and distractions, okay? Thank you.

I want to hide in the family room with Myrna Loy movies and braunschweiger for the rest of my life.

In this post: Old Pencil Neck.

My final Howdygram post for the month of April will focus on three distinct and important topics: 1) another Putz of the Week; 2) I’m running the dishwasher; and 3) I can’t think of anything else. The first item appears below; items 2 and 3 should be self-explanatory. Thank you.

Schwan’s home delivery is frequently my only contact with the outside world.

In this post: William Powell, canned shrimp.

It’s Tuesday morning, 7 a.m., and I’ve been awake since 4:45 doing practically nothing except catching up on current events via assorted news websites. Also shopping. I just ordered a box of AA batteries plus the following DVDs from Amazon because they’re very old and very hard-to-find Philo Vance mysteries starring William Powell: The Greene Murder Case (1929) with Jean Arthur and Eugene Pallette and The Benson Murder Case (1930) with Natalie Moorhead and Hopalong Cassidy (William Boyd). Oh boy, people. I LOVE THIS STUFF!

The secret to a happy marriage is lunch meat.

In this post: Lunch meat, intolerance.

Sometimes life is fraught with disappointment. Last night while I was waiting for Sam to get home from work I desperately wanted a BLT except I didn’t have any L or T so I just ate B on low-carb toast with mayo.

Which brings me to my next point: THE SECRET TO A HAPPY MARRIAGE IS LUNCH MEAT. This morning Sam went shopping at Wal-Mart and brought home two packages of Oscar Mayer Pickle & Pimiento loaf just for me. This is a man who knows how to touch my heart, and it usually involves cheap processed meat.

Stupid crap from the mouths of Republicans.

In this post: Stupid crap from Republicans, easy egg salad, good movies.

I’ll begin my post tonight with more of the Howdygram’s intensely popular progressive political commentary. This time: STUPID CRAP FROM THE MOUTHS OF REPUBLICANS. Trust me, there’s enough material to fill a 24-volume encyclopedia but I’ve narrowed it down to a few of my favorites. Thank you, and here we go.

I got all dressed up with shoes and a brassiere.

In this post: A new low, musical memories, baloney with olives.

Sunday got away from me, people. Following a severe low blood sugar episode Friday night during which — how can I put this delicately? — I was minutes away from a HYPOGLYCEMIC COMA, I spent most of Saturday and all day Sunday indulging in copious amounts of sleep because that’s how a body responds to shitty diabetic experiences: WITH TOTAL EXHAUSTION. However we did have an opportunity to enjoy a couple of fine movies this weekend: Hans Christian Andersen (1952) starring Danny Kaye and The Muse (1999) starring Albert Brooks and Sharon Stone.

You can never own too many teeny bowls.

In this post: Household hints, a mascot makeover, nuts for Mom.

There’s not much to report from Howdygram headquarters this evening. Our severe overnight weather forecast has fizzled to drizzle, Sam is soundly asleep in the family room watching Gunga Din (1939) starring Cary Grant, Victor McLaglen and Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., as British soldiers romping through colonial India, and I’m here to share the usual assortment of entertaining tidbits, hot tips and clever crap. Let’s begin, shall we?

Vote for this douchebag or he’ll maybe shoot his cannon at the White House.

In this post: Artisans, douchebags on parade.

It’s a pleasant but slightly clammy Friday afternoon here in north Texas as I wait for my first-ever grocery delivery from the grocery delivery people at Artizone.com. In case you missed my post from a week ago, Artizone is like a fancy farmers market with home delivery and I discovered them online by accident. A happy accident. My first order will be here between 6 and 8 p.m. and includes a pound of hard salami, a pound of baloney with sliced-up olives in it, two pounds of mixed bean salad in cilantro dressing and a bag of Brussels sprouts. I’m hungry and I’m hyperventilating! Pictured below for your possible interest are a few of Artizone’s assorted artisans, all located here in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. (I’d be willing to bet money that Big Al owns a pickup and a shotgun.)

Glorioski, I love my life.

In this post: Texas rocks, John Wayne stinks.

While I hang around waiting for Sam to wake up I just read an article on CNN Money about cities where home prices are hitting new highs. Although home values in most markets nationwide are still down about 13% from their pre-recession peaks, housing in seven major cities has recovered — and then some, according to Zillow. And, of the seven cities on the list, FOUR ARE RIGHT HERE IN THE LONE STAR STATE: Dallas, Houston, San Antonio and Austin. Holy crap, y’all!

Order from Wal-Mart. It’s always nice to have new things.

In this post: Retirement, real mayonnaise, grill marks.

Oy, people, I finally did it. A couple of hours ago I emailed my website clients to announce that I’m discontinuing all remaining aspects of my business by the end of this year and they should hire designers immediately to build new websites for them. This is a big fat “HOLY CRAP” moment for me. Finally ... no more needy pests! No more baloney! No more chasing deadbeats for money! 

Killing time with a low-carb Grape Nuts knockoff.

In this post: Elbow surgery, fake Grape Nuts.

A couple of really important remarks. First, in my last post I lied about watching tonight’s episode of “Hardcore Pawn” because I just found out there’s no episode of “Hardcore Pawn” on TV tonight. I don’t understand why not, but it is what it is. What the hell.

To my 12 remaining clients: it’s time to move on and leave me alone.

In this post: Dumping clients, pickles & biscuits, a shitty movie.

Here’s some big news from the world of Marcy’s Retirement! About an hour ago I started composing an email announcement to my 12 remaining clients that I’m closing down what’s left of my website design business by the end of this year so it’s time for them to move on and leave me alone. Why now? Because I received an email this afternoon from a client in South Carolina (he owns a custom bakery) who wants to expand his website with six new pages, four million cupcake pictures and an online ordering system. After I said hell no, fat chance, take your business somewhere else, it occurred to me this was an absolutely perfect opportunity to let all of my clients know what I plan to do. Last June I stopped accepting credit cards and all new business; now I’m finally ready to end everything else. I’m so excited I might have a brain hemorrhage. With apologies to Martin Luther King, FREE AT LAST! FREE AT LAST! THANK GOD ALMIGHTY I’M FREE AT LAST! (You get my drift.)

Happy Earth Day. We’re killing ourselves.

In this post: Earth Day, a contemptible Putz.

I’ll begin this morning with a big fat HAPPY EARTH DAY to Howdygram readers all over the planet. Even though I’ve never been a rabid “tree-hugger,” during the last few years it’s become perilously apparent that we’re killing ourselves with poisoned oceans, lousy air, melting polar ice, rising sea levels and extreme climate change. I’m actually relieved to be 62 years old because I know I won’t be around when we run out of fresh water and oxygen.

A new level of Tea Party horseshit, courtesy of South Carolina.

In this post: What a putz.

It’s really late and Sam will be home from work soon but I wanted to dash off another quick Howdygram post for a couple of excellent reasons: 1) I promised to; and 2) I’ve got a damn good Putz of the Week to share with you!

It’s time for a new season of psychotic crab fishermen freezing to death on the Bering Sea.

In this post: Changes, canned ham, crab fishermen.

I’m excited to begin a new week with a gigantic announcement: I’VE DECIDED TO USE A DARKER SHADE OF BROWN FOR THE CONTENT OF MY HOWDYGRAM POSTS! In case you don’t believe me or can’t remember what the old shade of brown looked like, here’s a convenient side-by-side illustration to share with your friends and relatives.

Important Easter news and unexpected tacos.

In this post: Peeps, Jesus, commandments, surprise tacos.

I didn’t think I’d ever stay awake long enough today to write a Howdygram post, but guess what, people ... I was wrong and here I am! I’ve got a couple of Easter-related items of interest to share with you tonight. First up, here’s a video of a moron trying to eat 100 marshmallow Peeps in two minutes. Too bad nobody bothered to film his diabetic coma afterwards. Holy crap.

A quick primer on insulin injections.

In this post: Gourmet groceries, too many needles.

Glorioski, everybody … you’ll never believe what I just discovered: GOURMET GROCERIES FOR HOME DELIVERY RIGHT HERE IN DALLAS. I never thought the Lone Star State could feel so cosmopolitan! The website is called Artizone.com and it’s just like shopping at Central Market except you don’t have to fight for parking or wear a brassiere! Artizone sells products from artisans all over the Dallas/Fort Worth area at pretty amazing prices, and home delivery only costs $5.95. I decided to test the water with the small order pictured below: organic Brussels sprouts, imported hard salami, olive loaf and two pounds of bean salad with onions in a cilantro vinaigrette. Delivery is one week from today even though I’M STARVING RIGHT NOW. Is this exciting, or what?

The Howdygram’s guide to your John Wayne viewing party.

In this post: Celebrating the Duke.

As promised in an earlier post I’m proud to present TCM’s schedule for their first-ever John Wayne Film Festival, neatly-typed by yours truly because I had some time to kill. There are a few movies I haven’t seen but (believe it or not) I think I’ve seen MOST, so please feel free to use the Howdygram’s color-coded key to help you plan your viewing party. You can thank me later.

The day that got away.

In this post: Sleep, shopping, a movie review.

I’ve really outdone myself this time, people. A few minutes ago I woke up from my first-ever SEVEN-HOUR NAP. There was a short lunch break in the middle for a can of Hormel tamales and a brief yet pleasant conversation with Sam, but I remember nothing else about Thursday, April 17. Somebody stuffed my head with sawdust when I wasn’t looking. HOLY CRAP. And I mean this sincerely.

Never turn your back on a speeding train.

In this post: Deliveries, orders, teenage morons.

This has been a relatively uneventful day, not counting a very juicy three-hour late morning nap, lots of teeny Don Miguel tacos for lunch and our biweekly delivery of tasty frozen whatnots from the nice people at Schwan’s, which included the two products pictured below.

I almost ordered Schwan’s Onion Rings, too, but changed my mind at the last minute since I’m pretty sure we don’t have any extra room in the freezer right now due to too much food. Sam and I have to eat faster.

Anti-feminist Phyllis Schlafly says men won’t marry well-paid women.

In this post: Sleep, an anti-feminist fossil, Aaron Sorkin.

So far this has been a really strange day. Sam and I woke up shortly after 7 a.m. about 15 minutes apart, and by 9:15 we were both sound asleep in the family room watching an entertaining mystery called Murder on a Bridle Path (1936) starring Helen Broderick and James Gleason. When I finally woke up at 12:30 Sam had switched to Around the World in Eighty Days (1956) starring David Niven. These are both excellent napping movies and we highly recommend them.

Wishing you a Happy Passover. And “yo” from Moses!

In this post: Passover.

Thank God I’m retired because technology makes me sick.

In this post: Headaches, horseshit, brain damage.

I’m not exactly sure how to write this post. At the moment I’ve got a migraine headache resulting from a major brouhaha today with my website hosting company, Web.com. I’ll try to explain what happened without screaming. In case you need a definition, a “brouhaha” is a regular garden-variety hoo-hah with significant additional hysterics.

We eat a lot of food around here.

In this post: Costco, kids and technology.

It’s a dark and dismal Monday morning here in north Texas, and while I’m here in the study enjoying my first Marcytini of the day Sam is on his way to Baylor Medical Center for routine lab work and then to Costco for an assortment of excellent crap. Today this will include: 1) Don Miguel teeny tacos; 2) Sam’s favorite breakfast burritos; 3) lots and lots of pistachios; 4) tasty Foster Farms frozen chicken patties; and 5) an industrial-size sack of fully-cooked bacon.

Celebrating Sunday. Thunderstorms, baloney and great crap on TV.

In this post: Blackouts, baloney, thunderstorms, a train wreck.

It’s 4:30 in the morning and Sam and I woke up about an hour ago. This is what happens when a person takes too many naps! In my case, though, it resulted from a huge hypoglycemic (low blood sugar) crisis at lunch-time yesterday when I practically blacked out followed by such overwhelming fatigue that I slept on the chaise for SIX HOURS. By the time I woke up — around 6 p.m., I think — the whole day was shot to hell.

Groceries for Jewish people who like to eat.

In this post: Gefilte fish, film festivals.

Happy Saturday morning from your friends at the Howdygram! We’re expecting an overcast, windy day here with temperatures in the low 80s and a 60% chance of severe thunderstorms on Sunday. This is perfectly swell with Sam and me because we have no real plans whatsoever except for cleaning out the garage, making tacos for lunch and picking up my 12-jar case of Mother’s gefilte fish tomorrow night from a snooty house in an Orthodox Jewish neighborhood in north Dallas. In case you’re interested, Howdygram headquarters is indicated by a red star on the map below; the gefilte fish and arrow point to the aforementioned snooty house. (I’m not joking about the snooty part. The houses are all less than five years old and 6,000+ square feet with four-car garages. These are RICH PEOPLE.)

Another dose of twisted right-wing crap.

In this post: Warped Einsteins, right-wing fetus worship.

I wrote so many posts yesterday — FOUR! — that I didn’t really think I’d have much to say today, but you know what? I was wrong! So here I am, fingers on the keyboard, all limbered-up and ready to go, ready to write another round of truly screwy horseshit. Thank you for showing up today. Before I forget, however ... I’m cold, I’m hungry and my knees hurt, and I might have to duck out for a few minutes to eat dinner because it’s already 6:30.

Things I can’t do any more.

In this post: A serious kvetch report.

I don’t want you to assume that I’m depressed, whiny, negative or defeated, but the list of things I can’t do gets longer every day due to complications and side effects from arthritis, diabetes and a smorgasbord of prescription drugs. Here’s my “can’t do” list as of 11 p.m. on April 10, 2014.

Fighting back against the GOP’s budget from hell.

In this post: Remodeling, the GOP budget, mealtime favorites.

In case you’re dying of curiosity, our shower remodeling crew showed up this morning at 8:30 and they’ve been hard at work ever since not counting a break for lunch. I haven’t even had an opportunity to see what’s going on because they’ve had the bathroom door closed all day so they wouldn’t disturb me. (I was asleep on the chaise in the family room for a few hours watching cheesy monster movies.) It’s currently 6:25, and I have a hunch they’re almost finished because I think I smell paint!

Plans for the Howdygram Gefilte Fish Festival are finally taking shape.

In this post: Gefilte fish.

Oh boy, people! I just got an email from the KC Kosher Co-Op to let me know they’ve got a bunch of unclaimed and highly-discounted Passover groceries from last week’s delivery in Dallas and I should tell them ASAP if there’s anything I want. AND THERE IS! I wrote back right away and called dibs on a 12-jar case of Mother’s gefilte fish (pictured below) for only $4 a jar. In case you’re not a gefilte fish aficionado, that’s a STEAL! Pickup is set for Sunday night between 8 and 11 p.m. at the co-op’s regular drop-off location, which is a snooty mansion in north Dallas near George and Laura Bush’s house. Looks like plans for the Howdygram Gefilte Fish Festival are finally taking shape. (All I need now is an industrial-size drum of horseradish.) Mark your calendar!

A few important things to know on Thursday.

In this post: Thursday events, appreciating Texas.

It’s 6:25 Thursday morning, and here are four things you need to know today:

1. Clayton and Ricky, our chucklehead remodeling team, will arrive sometime between sun-up and 8 a.m. to start working on the shower in our master bathroom. However from prior experience (see previous post) I’ll assume that 10:15 is a safer bet.
2. I’m definitely having baloney and American cheese on low-carb white bread for lunch. My baloney of choice is always Oscar Mayer even though they spell it B-O-L-O-G-N-A. Nobody in their right mind should spell baloney like that.
3. You should watch and/or record the following movies today on TCM: The Lady Vanishes (1938) starring Margaret Lockwood and Michael Redgrave; Happiness Ahead (1934) about an heiress and a singing window washer starring Dick Powell and Josephine Hutchinson; and The Bad and the Beautiful (1952) starring Kirk Douglas and Lana Turner.
4. The state of Texas is HUGE. Details follow.

The art of George W. Bush is a paint-by-numbers project for retired war criminals.

In this post: Equal Pay for Women, crap art.

I forgot to mention in my last post that useless Republican hacks in the Senate pretty much told America’s working women, who still only earn 77¢ for every dollar earned by men, to drop dead today by killing the Equal Pay for Women bill.

Who the hell starts a remodeling project at dinner-time?

In this post: Emergency groceries, waiting for Clayton.

I’ll begin with a brief synopsis of Sam’s emergency grocery expedition to Wal-Mart this morning, which included braunschweiger, Oscar Mayer bologna, a bag of shredded mozzarella cheese and several dozen two-liter bottles of Coke Zero. Because a senior citizen needs her Marcytinis.

Conspiracy theorists are paranoid schizophrenic poop-heads.

In this post: Disruptions, Einstein Award, upcoming events.

Our remodeling contractor (Clayton) will be here tomorrow at 11 a.m. to take apart the shower in our master bathroom and repair the damage from a water leak behind the marble bench. I’ll try to be as brave as possible about this, but I usually have a nervous breakdown if something disturbs my privacy and afternoon nap. Clayton and his helper will be here Thursday, too. I might have to blow my brains out.

Progressive Minnesota, where science teachers don’t have to believe in science.

In this post: Remove Office, a Minnesota pinhead.

We’re enjoying a sparkly, windy spring day here in north Texas and I’m inside trying to delete most of Microsoft Office from my Macintosh hard drive. I launched a tool in my Office folder called “Remove Office” that’s been pretending to search and locate files for the last 20 minutes with no results whatsoever except for an irritating barber pole status bar. However I’ve learned one important thing from this experience: I hate “Remove Office” as much as I hate Office.

I wish I could choke Microsoft Word and throw it off a bridge.

In this post: Dumping, deleting. 

Happy Dump the Crap Day, everybody! I’m streamlining my hard drive today with some hard-core spring cleaning, and I got started about an hour ago by “uninstalling” five really huge Adobe Creative Suite applications that were loaded on my Mac for free by a consultant a few years ago. I never used any of them for a variety of reasons, but mostly because I had zero motivation (or need, either) to horse around with complex software for professional film and music editors. At the moment I’m deleting a demo solitaire game that hasn’t worked since 2008 and Quark XPress 6.0, which is probably about 12 years old. The status bar on my screen started at 18,698 files and after 45 minutes we’ve pared it down to 13,842. Holy crap, I’m not convinced I’ll live long enough to see the end of this.

Tonight’s agenda includes insulin injections, cheesy movies and laundry.

In this post: Sign the petition, cheesy movies.

Good evening, fellow activists! (If you’re NOT a fellow activist please humor me, okay?) I’m excited to announce that the Senate has passed an extension of unemployment benefits, and now the only thing standing between millions of out-of-work Americans and this urgent safety net is the weirdo douchecanoe pictured below.

Mickey Rooney died yesterday at age 93 even though practically nobody realized he was still alive.

In this post: A powerhouse, a Putz.

Hey, did you miss me yesterday? I decided to take a day off from Howdygrammin’ and spent my entire Sunday in various stages of sloth ... sleeping, eating, watching old movies and occasional combinations of all three. Monday, though, started off with more promise, waking up at 5 and spending the next three hours at my desk swallowing pills, drinking flat leftover Coke Zero from last night and sneezing.

Happy birthday Wrigley Field.

In this post: Dead blondes, Wrigley Field.

It’s a dismal, drizzly Saturday afternoon at Howdygram headquarters and Sam’s asleep in the family room watching Forbidden Planet (1956) starring Walter Pidgeon, Anne Francis, Leslie Nielsen and Robby the Robot.

Why bother rinsing spoons in the sink when you can just buy more?

In this post: Kvetch report, announcements.

I don’t feel well today, and I’m going to tell you why whether you really want to know or not. Got that? Good. The complaints du jour are as follows: 1) my body temperature is only 95.4°; 2) I’m peeing way too often; 3) my heels hurt; 4) my right hand feels like it’s broken; 5) my balance is off; 6) I’ve got muscle weakness in both legs; and 7) holy crap, isn’t that enough?

Sam and I always select our frozen crapola as a couple.

In this post: Costco, a Friday agenda, Doris Day.

It’s 10:30 Friday morning as I write this post and Sam is headed to Costco for our favorite weekly provisions, such as: 1) teeny chicken tacos; 2) breakfast burritos; 3) a lot of fresh blackberries; and 4) frozen crapola to be determined. For the record, Sam promised to call from the frozen food section so we can select our crapola as a couple. I haven’t been to Costco for a long time and don’t know what’s what any more.

I want weather and I want it now.

In this post: No weather, Dubya reappears.

Hello, people. It’s Thursday afternoon in north Texas and we still don’t have any weather even though the lying sacks of poo at Weather.com still insist we’re on the radar for severe crap of one form or another. Tornadoes, I think. That’s horseshit. A news tidbit on the Dallas Morning News’ website says an isolated storm passed across Denton — about 58 miles north of Howdygram headquarters — about an hour ago and dumped some hail in the parking lot at Texas Woman’s University. Big deal. I’m not impressed by this in any way whatsoever. I WANT WEATHER AND I WANT IT NOW. Thank you.

Today’s forecast: a disinterested thunderstorm at 7 a.m.

In this post: No weather in Texas, snow in Newfoundland, kvetch report.

I was excited to post the following severe crapola map indicating some actual weather for north Texas, but unfortunately I just found out that the lying sacks of poo at Weather.com were just kidding and we’re not really expecting any weather today at all except for a possible disinterested thunderstorm at 7 a.m. Holy crap, people, that’s not enough water to rinse the lint off your driveway! The teeny green star denotes Howdygram headquarters.

Three things and a new Putz of the Week.

In this post: Our shower remodeling hoo-hah, a new Putz, dinner ideas.

Three things!

FIRST THING. It’s official, people. The Great Shower Remodeling Hoo-Hah has been scheduled for Wednesday, April 9. As I mentioned in yesterday’s Howdygram post, we found out that water has been sneaking behind our marble shower bench for quite some time, so our remodeling dude — Clayton — will dismantle the glass shower enclosure, remove and clean the tiles, take apart the marble bench, replace the entire structure with new supports, sheetrock, mouldings, baseboards and paint, inside and outside the shower. Clayton says it’s a two-day project, which is damn good news because commotion really gets on my nerves and leeches valuable time from my afternoon naps.

Happy April Fool’s Day from the Queen and Donald Trump.

In this post: Scary crap, remodeling, dried fruit, Doris Day Day.

Believe it or not I spent most of the morning trying to figure out something clever to post for April Fool’s Day, but I came up short except for this ... and I apologize profusely if it scares the living crap out of you.

Tonight’s dinner includes low-carb hot dog buns and Stevita imitation cherry Kool-Aid.

In this post: Get covered, free food.

First and foremost, please pay attention to the following urgent graphic from the White House and President Obama. Thank you.

Somebody please get these Chinese families some therapy.

In this post: Reality, Easter bunnies.

My special request for Monday, March 31: WILL SOMEBODY PLEASE GET THESE CHINESE FAMILIES SOME THERAPY. They’ve been flying back and forth from China to Malaysia for THREE WEEKS (don’t any of them have jobs?) with signs, banners and matching “drama club” tee shirts to scream obscenities at exhausted Malaysian officials for the March 8 disappearance of MH flight 370. To sum up their nonexistent grip on reality, here’s a quote from Wen Wancheng, 63, whose only son was one of the passengers: “They’re all still alive, my son and everyone on board! The plane is still there, too! They’re hiding it!” Holy mother of crap.

All we need to beat Russia is a very cool president. And Wall Street.

In this post: Braised camel turds, strangling Putin.

We did it. We did lunch on Saturday at Cafe Greek in Dallas. We always enjoy the food, and the price for their buffet is really swell, but the overall ambiance is two rungs lower than a state-run mental institution and the owner — we call him the “Grim Reaper” — is a rude, non-verbal grumpyface who sits with his back to the dining room playing with an iPad. Even worse, THEY NEVER HAVE ANY CUSTOMERS and we don’t know how they keep their business open. Cafe Greek is situated in a busy strip mall in a popular part of town, the parking lot is always packed with cars, yet at 12 noon on a beautiful spring Saturday the only diners — besides Sam and me — are a pair of joyless middle-aged women at separate tables sending text messages. (Not to each other.) Cafe Greek can’t possibly be a money-making enterprise, but as long as they let me eat unlimited baked fish with sesame seeds for $9.95 I don’t give a crap about their bottom line. And Sam loves the desserts.

Maybe we’ll go for a ride today. I’ll even wear a brassiere and shoes.

In this post: Quakes, bags, dumplings.

I just read on CNN.com that Los Angeles had a 5.1-magnitude earthquake last night followed by a bunch of smaller aftershocks. The quake’s epicenter was in Fullerton (in Orange County) but shaking was felt all over the region, including the Hollywood Hills, Rodeo Drive, beautiful downtown Burbank and the usual list of snooty stores and restaurants. Also palm trees. Sam and I have a lot of family in L.A. and we both hope you’re all okay and nobody’s bathroom mirror fell off. EARTHQUAKES ARE SCARY.

This is a perfect opportunity for Texas diners to switch to Chinese.

In this post: Bustling activity, a citrus dilemma.

Howdygram headquarters has been bustling with SENIOR CITIZEN EXCITEMENT today, as evidenced by the neatly-typed list that appears below.

I WOKE UP AT 2:45 A.M. In case you give a crap, I had aching shins — glorioski! something new! — plus chest pains from being hunched over in a weird position and burning hot hands with stabby electric shocks due to diabetic peripheral neuropathy. The best remedy was to drink a South Pacific Marcytini — this is a regular Marcytini with some sugar-free Hawaiian Punch powder mixed in — and diddle around at my desk until I felt like a regular person again. I went back to bed at 4:15. (Sam didn’t know I was gone.)

Pringles, the pre-chewed grease chips in a can for morons who play with their food.

In this post: Healthcare.gov, duck lips.

A couple of things before I forget! First, President Obama personally asked me to post the following important announcement because you only have FOUR DAYS LEFT to enroll in the Affordable Care Act for 2014. THE DEADLINE IS MARCH 31 AND THIS IS A VERY BIG DEAL. Please remind everybody you know, okay?

A new appliance and an easy homemade old people’s potato salad recipe.

In this post: Washing things, eating things.

That sound you hear in the background? Yes, it’s LAUNDRY DAY again at Howdygram headquarters! At the moment I’ve got towels in the dryer and a load of socks and whites spinning in the wash. I honestly can’t imagine anything that’s more entertaining on a Thursday afternoon except for refilling my pill sorter or possibly a nap.

Yes, friends, there are haircuts in hell.

In this post: Style guide.

So here’s the thing, fashionistas. Next time you’re having a bad hair day you should think of life in North Korea, the garden spot of Asia, where monster-in-chief Kim Jong-un has established MANDATORY HAIRSTYLES for men and women. Women may choose from any of the 18 fashion-forward cold war haircuts pictured below.

Learn how to make Sam’s favorite marinated salad.

In this post: Good things to eat.

My project du jour? Making a huge tub of cucumber & onion salad because SAM LOVES THIS STUFF and he requested it last night when he got home from work. My recipe is an old standard (I learned it from mom) with four basic ingredients: cucumbers, onions, vinegar and sugar. However I like to use two kinds of onions (red and white) and due to having diabetes I prefer granulated Splenda to sugar. A sprinkle of dill is nice, too. (Also black pepper.)

Sam will be heading to Wal-Mart this morning to load up on ingredients and I’m so excited I typed out my grocery list at 5 a.m.

I’ve been hacked.

In this post: Generosity, suspension, canned goods.

I’ve got some breaking news for those of you following the tale of my wayward shipment from Netrition. Today they RESHIPPED MY ENTIRE ORDER from back on March 11, not just the contents of the one damaged carton that UPS returned to them. Holy crap, everybody … we’ll be PACKED TO THE RAFTERS here with duplicate pumpernickel, hot dog buns, cookies, pasta sauce, chili, sugar-free fake Kool-Aid drink mixes and chocolate bars! That’s about $150 worth of free food! I’m sure the customer service Einsteins at Netrition think they’re being generous, helpful and accommodating, but WHERE THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO PUT THIS STUFF? Our pantry is already jammed with — among other things — Hormel tamales, Spam, Vienna sausages, Loma Linda fake meat and teeny cans of ham floating in mystery juice that arrive regularly in caseloads from Wal-Mart and Amazon. Please don’t tell Sam about this yet so I can make a plan. HEY! WANT TO COME FOR DINNER?

Oscar Pistorius is a douchebag and other important things for Tuesday.

In this post: New red, important things.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but as of 3:45 Monday afternoon — and for no apparent reason whatsoever — I started using A DIFFERENT SHADE OF RED for the Howdygram’s accent color! Although I’m pretty sure nobody except me gives a crap about this, in case you can’t tell the difference (or don’t know what I’m talking about) the following example will absolutely knock your socks off:

Cheese doesn’t make any noise.

In this post: Misinformation, quiet sandwiches.

Boy, did I ever screw up. Do you remember that UPS tracking debacle from one of yesterday’s posts? I was confused. Apparently UPS returned my damaged carton — the one I was supposed to receive on March 17 — to Netrition, and it’s on the truck for delivery today in upstate New York, NOT here at Howdygram headquarters in Mesquite, Texas. So, I just sent an email to Netrition’s customer service team and asked them to please re-ship my order IMMEDIATELY and stop horsing around already before I have a nervous breakdown.

Marie Osmond looks like a drag queen.

In this post: Stinking checks, Heckle & Jeckle.

The long, tedious shlep to complete retirement presses on. This morning, for instance, I’m sad to report that my few remaining website clients are still lousing things up and giving me a brain hemorrhage. Second-quarter web hosting payments are due tomorrow, and seven of them — SEVEN! — haven’t bothered to send me their stinking checks yet. They all received two nicely-written reminder emails in March (one with an invoice attached) and none of them even bothered to respond. Are any of those weasles still alive? Looks like things will have to get ugly around here again. Late fees! EVERYBODY HAS TO PAY LATE FEES!

Movies you shouldn’t miss.

In this post: Another movie list.

Holy crap, I almost forgot to post the following list of upcoming excellent movies on TCM that you shouldn’t miss. Five films on Wednesday are part of TCM’s Mary Astor Month festival.

Sunday night doldrums highlighted by bathing in the sink.

In this post: Redelivery, baby Sam, Plan B.

Hey, remember the damaged box from my last Netrition order (see previous post, paragraph titled “Sucky Reason #3”) that UPS never delivered on March 18? The tracking information on UPS’s website reads like “War and Peace” — check out the screen shot below — but apparently Netrition finally reshipped everything from upstate New York for overnight delivery TOMORROW. Wow, people, that’s one damn expensive shipment, considering the carton contains nine really heavy glass quart bottles of DaVinci sugar-free flavored syrups plus three boxes of chocolate bars, three bottles of sugar-free Thai chili sauce and a jar of Stevita sugar-free fake cherry Kool-Aid drink mix!

God willing and weather permitting I might clean out the freezer tonight.

In this post: Screaming, organizing, dining.

Know why I love the Howdygram? I CAN TYPE IN ALL CAPS* WHENEVER I WANT AND NOBODY’S ALLOWED TO GIVE ME ANY CRAP ABOUT IT. Caps are liberating. Try it sometime. It feels like you’re SCREAMING AT THE WORLD, and lately there’s plenty to scream about. For instance:

1. Sam had to go to work today. On Sunday!
2. Russia steals Crimea; NATO says Moldova is next (see below). Romney blames Obama.
3. Missing airplanes.
4. Killer mudslides.
5. Exploding helicopters.
6. An oil spill in Galveston Bay.
7. The ebola virus is rampant in Guinea.
8. Tiger Woods misses the Arnold Palmer Invitational.

I can hardly wait to scorch my Ball Park Smoked White Fat-Free Turkey Franks!

In this post: Overtime, kitchen gadgets, celebrities.

Here’s some sad and pathetic news: SAM HAD TO GO TO WORK TODAY and probably won’t be home until 4 a.m. This sucks, right? Fortunately he managed to squeeze in a three-hour nap after lunch — actually, we both did — so at least I know he’s not feeling like a zombie. To amuse myself in Sam’s absence I immediately ordered an adorable stainless steel toaster oven from Wal-Mart for $39 ... the exact same brand and model that Amazon sells for $156. Click here to see for yourself! I’M NOT KIDDING!

We love Costco.

In this post: Moaning, shopping, remodeling.

3:15 A.M. Know what? I feel so thoroughly miserable right now I almost can’t use my damn keyboard! I woke up half an hour ago with a substantial fever and severe joint and muscle pain, and Sam heard me moaning when I got out of bed and helped me shlep into the study so I can sit here rocking back and forth like a large turnip. He also brought me a Marcytini from the kitchen with a mountain of ice because my hands feel like they’re on fire and I like holding the glass.

It’s amazing how you can talk yourself into eating insane crap when you have diabetes.

In this post: Shirataki on sale.

In case you don’t have anything productive to do tonight here’s a hot tip from our Happy Homemaker department! Zero-calorie shirataki noodles are 10% off through March 28 at Asian Food Grocer, and if you love this crap as much as I do you’ll drop everything RIGHT NOW and buy yourself a bunch. Asian Food Grocer has the best prices on the Internet plus cheap flat-rate shipping. I just ordered some Skinny brand shirartaki angel hair noodles and shirataki rice.

I’m picturing various scenarios where Sam hoses me down in the back yard with our new power washer.

In this post: Hosing off, excellent things from Amazon.

It’s official. We have an appointment with The Grout Doctor on Tuesday, and the crew will be here between 8 and 9 a.m. to recaulk and regrout the shower in our master bathroom. I should be excited as hell, but unfortunately this whole hoo-hah is turning out to be an unexpected inconvenience. Clayton — our personal grout physician — asked us not to use the shower on Sunday or Monday or for 48 hours after they finish the work. That’s FIVE DAYS, people! This isn’t a big crisis for Sam because he can shower in our guest bathroom, but I can’t because I’ve got serious mobility issues, there’s nowhere to sit down (the shower in our master bath has a marble bench) and I don’t want to fall over, start crying or have a nervous breakdown. At the moment I’m picturing various scenarios where Sam hoses me down in the back yard with our new power washer. (Don’t tell the neighbors.) Holy crap.

Breakfast will probably be a couple of Tylenol over-easy with toast.

In this post: Kvetch report, Hackneyburgers.

It’s 5:15 a.m. and welcome to the pre-dawn Howdygram. I woke up about 40 minutes ago with severe joint and muscle pain all over my body and decided to check my temperature. Yup, I’m running a fever of 99.2°. Stop laughing, okay? That’s REALLY HIGH when a person’s normal temperature is 96°, such as yours truly’s, and explains why I feel like crap and why I’m drinking a big lemonade with a ton of ice. Thank you.

Today’s hot topic: caulk and grout.

In this post: The Great Dallas Jampocalypse, a grout emergency.

Hi, guys. Before I address today’s hot topic — caulk and grout — I thought y’all might be interested in a couple of photos from a massive traffic jam yesterday in north Dallas ... an event The Dallas Morning News has dubbed the “jampocalypse.” What you see here are the eastbound lanes of I-635, also known as the LBJ Freeway, backed up from a five-car wreck at Skillman Avenue. Cars, trucks, vans and pickups driven by authentic Texas yahoos are seen here headed in two directions on the same side of the freeway, doing wheelies on the grassy knoll (Texans are fond of grassy knolls), attempting three-point turns in traffic lanes and backing up on the shoulders. Being a housebound senior citizen definitely has its advantages.

Chocolate chip cookies to the rescue.

In this post: Killing time.

It’s 4 a.m. and I should be in bed right now. Unfortunately a hypoglycemic episode woke me from a sound sleep about 45 minutes ago — it always amazes me when that happens! — so I decided to sit around with a box of chocolate chip cookies until I feel steady enough to go back to bed. At this point, though, I think I might hang out in the study for a little while and wait for Sam to get home from work. I hope it’s SOON because he’s supposed to start work tomorrow morning at 11 (instead of 2 p.m.) and won’t have time to get any sleep.

Dallas has a lot of millionaires, such as the Ewings of Southfork Ranch.

In this post: Sam, millionaires, braunschweiger.

Sam is working late tonight or he would have been home two hours ago. Yes, his hours are insane. If you’re wondering what the hell he does for a living, I’ll simply say that Sam is a senior project manager in the financial print industry, and his job involves helping corporate clients prepare and submit to the SEC confidential transactional and compliance documents related to IPOs, mergers, acquisitions and other fancy whatnots like quarterly and annual financial reports. He also answers the phone.

Magic plumbing fairies came over last night.

In this post: Easy fixes, a kvetch report.

I’ve got some incredible news. A team of MAGIC PLUMBING FAIRIES came over while we were sleeping last night and fixed the problem with our new Whirlpool water heater!

After this thing was installed on Monday we weren’t getting any pressure in the shower in our master bathroom and the temperature was pooping out to lukewarm before we were halfway finished. Sam left a voice mail for the installation team from Lowe’s, and they called back to explain that a new water heater can sometimes cause sediment to get stuck temporarily in the trap behind the shower (who knew?) and cause the problems we were having. This morning, though, everything was COMPLETELY BACK TO NORMAL all by itself with plenty of scalding hot water (Sam enjoys the “lobster” effect) and pressure like Niagara Falls. And then we swapped our shower head with the guest bathroom ... JUST FOR FUN!

However, if this is unnecessarily confusing — or if you simply don’t give a crap — please feel free to move along to the next paragraph. Thank you.

I think the Affordable Care Act is a much better deal than cheap corndogs.

In this post: Healthcare.gov, National Corndog Day.

Before I forget, a very important deadline is coming up for the Affordable Care Act, and Michelle Obama has asked me to post the following reminder on my blog:

Low pressure, a frownyface and hysterical hair.

In this post: Tuesday sucked, a Nutella knockoff.

For the record, Tuesday pretty much sucked around here for the following reasons:

SUCKY REASON #1. Something is weird with the new Whirlpool water heater that was installed on Monday. We’re not getting good water pressure in the shower in our master bath and the heat dwindles down to lukewarm before we’re half finished. Sam called Lowe’s and asked for the installers to come back and troubleshoot because we’re freezing to death and crabby.

A story of fear and self-loathing in Texas. Also pumpernickel.

In this post: Nice weather, GOP bullshittery.

Hi, people. It’s a a lovely, sunny, 80° Tuesday afternoon in north Texas, just the kind of adorable weather we wish we’d have all year round instead of triple-digit heat from June through September when you can’t touch your car door handles, think about going out to lunch or even enjoy your own patio with shorts, lemonade and a Fred Astaire biography. Please let me know if this makes any sense to you because I’m awfully confused right now.

Mothers ... don’t let your sons grow up to be bronies!

In this post: Bad decisions.

It’s still St. Patrick’s Day and I still don’t care.

Real bread is better than sex or a William Powell film festival.

In this post: St. Patrick, late installation, real bread.

It’s time once again for the western world to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, that beloved Irish holiday commemorating the patron saint of beer. Although Sam and I are not Irish and seriously don’t give a crap about St. Patrick’s Day in any way whatsoever, we’ll do our part to not be old crabasses about it and eat something green today with lunch. I’m thinking olives.

Bruce Jenner and Macaulay Culkin. What the hell happened to these people?

In this post: Marshmallow bunnies, hot water, mock celebrities.

Shalom y’all. It’s the crack of dawn at Howdygram headquarters and I’m shopping for sugar-free marshmallow Easter bunnies on Russell Stover’s website while I wait for Sam to wake up. I’ve got a plan to jump in the shower about 30 minutes from now because there’s an installation crew coming over at 8 with our new Whirlpool water heater, and once they get started in the garage we won’t have any hot water for a few hours.

Breaking news from our Buy This Crap Fast Before the Price Goes Up department.

In this post: Hypoglycemia, hot dogs, emergency coffee, North Korea.

5:25 A.M. Oy. I’ve been awake for an hour and I’m a mess. My eyes are watering, I’ve got a nasal drip and my blood sugar is SCARY LOW (50) so I’ve been binge-eating Wal-Mart glucose tablets (the raspberry ones) for the last 20 minutes. I wish I had a Marcytini but this would involve a round-trip to the kitchen and I’m not sure I can walk that far because HYPOGLYCEMIA. So I’ll annoy you instead.

Today has been a whirlwind of senior citizen excitement.

In this post: Rain, baloney, bargains, speedy meals.

I don’t believe it, people. IT RAINED HERE TODAY! As a matter of fact, it rained HARD for several consecutive hours and, as I write this post, I can still hear thunder somewhere in the distance. (It’s probably heading into Arkansas.) The following screenshot from Weather.com was taken about an hour ago. The big red star in the middle denotes Howdygram headquarters. Everything here is really, really wet right now.

I have no idea whatsoever how insulin syringes and incontinence supplies connect to St. Patrick’s Day.

In this post: Diabetic leprechauns, Chinese food porn.

Glorioski. I just got an email promoting a “Luck o’ the Irish” sale at DiabetesSupplies4Less even though I’m not Irish, I’ve never been Irish, I don’t intend to be Irish and I have no idea whatsoever how insulin syringes and incontinence supplies connect to St. Patrick’s Day. Therefore, to celebrate not being Irish I just ordered three boxes of FreeStyle Lite diabetes test strips from eBay because they have no leprechaun clip art and better prices.