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.