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

In this post: Weird shit and spooky crap.

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

Merry Christmas from the Gefilte Fish Squad at Howdygram headquarters.

In this post: The ongoing imaginary war on Christmas.

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

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

In this post: Bah humbug, pleasant frozen whatnots.

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

Favorite holiday films and corny Christmas hoo-hah.

In this post: TCM holiday movie schedule.

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

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

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

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

Holiday greetings from the Howdygram!

Shalom, ho-ho-ho and Merry Christmas from your pals at Howdygram headquarters! Sam is asleep and I’m waiting up for Santa with TicTacs, a Marcytini and an assortment of individually-wrapped sugar-free Russell Stover chocolates. Marshmallows are my favorite, but I ran out of those last night so I’m currently working my way through a bag of truffles. The caramels are next.

There’s a ton of crappy weather on the way. A big fat cold front is scheduled to roll in around 6 a.m. with wind and horizontal rain changing over to snow by late afternoon when the temperature plummets into the 20s. We’re not expecting much snow accumulation — probably an inch or less — but that’s still considered a major winter weather event around here and the city of Dallas already has its plows on standby to clear the roads of all those terrifying flurries.

Sam and I watched a cringeworthy TV miniseries rerun last night on Encore ... a wannabe Biblical “epic” called Noah’s Ark from 1999 starring Jon Voight and Mary Steenburgen. Aside from the fact that nobody apparently bothered to research any actual Bible passages for this convoluted mess, the script, comical score and acting were so appalling that 45 minutes into the movie I thought I was watching a Monty Python spoof. The voice of God reminded me of Tony Randall; Noah’s three sons are British delinquents who fly kites.

Incidentally, the dude on the right pretending to be Captain Jack Sparrow is F. Murray Abraham as “Noah’s best friend Lot.” The producers failed to grasp that Lot doesn’t appear in the Bible until 300 years after Noah’s death, and he wasn’t a pal or a pirate, he was a descendant.

Lot also didn’t wear pink velvet sweatshirts or an eye patch. HOLY CRAP.

Part two is on tonight, so stay tuned for an in-depth review of the big flood. (No pun intended.)

In case you were worried that I didn’t download any additional new fonts yesterday, I’ll put your mind at ease. Here they are!

It’s 2:15 a.m. and there’s a huge thunderstorm plowing through here. I’ll include a weather map for your possible interest so you can see what’s going on. The pink pin with an asterisk denotes Howdygram headquarters. If you zoom in, I’m the senior citizen in a blue bathrobe with glasses.

Just between us, I don’t know how Sam is sleeping through this hoo-hah because he loves storms and usually jumps out of bed at the first rumble of thunder. (Maybe I’ll wake him up. He won’t get mad if I bring a muffin with me.) I wonder if Santa has been delayed.

Thank you for reading this.

Hey! Where’s Santa?

Christmas News Flash. Sam has been unconscious almost nonstop since 2:30 yesterday afternoon. He stayed awake long enough to eat dinner and briefly discuss the weather, then he slept through two excellent movies, migrated into the bedroom and I haven’t seen him since. Maybe if I start singing Christmas carols he’ll wake up and keep me company. It’s raining and I’m really bored.

Incidentally, I’m having a major issue again with my Firefox browser (see original post). It started locking up on me about two hours ago and I’ve had to “force quit” at least half a dozen times. I reloaded the software from Firefox’s website with no luck and even tried Sam’s secret trick — using the Mac’s Time Machine feature to restore an earlier version — and that didn’t work, either. I’m so fed up I’ve switched to Google Chrome and just spent 45 minutes transferring 14 folders of bookmarks. Holy crapola, what a time waster.

Hot news from campaign 2012 indicates that blowhard presidential wannabe Donald Trump (see right) has bolted from the GOP to consider running as an independent candidate. (Writing that sentence gave me acid reflux.) This dude is a loudmouth self-promoter who’s been pandering to right-wing extremists and acting like a media clown with no tangible principles, foreign policy knowledge or understanding of the issues. Just because Trump can buy his way into the media and self-fund his own candidacy doesn’t make him a viable independent. Bottom line ... there’s absolutely nothing about Donald Trump that’s remotely electable, even if he shaves his head.

With that said, I guess I’ll head off to bed now and dream about sugar plums hideous comb-overs. Smooches to one and all from the Howdygram!

God might be driving a FedEx truck.

A couple of hours ago I’m really hungry and standing in the pantry hunting around for something to eat when the doorbell rings. It’s 8:30 p.m. and pitch black outside. Sam asks if I’m expecting anybody. I reply, “You’re kidding, right? We don’t have any friends.” He opens the door and it’s FedEx, magically delivering a stunning gift basket — from one of my clients in Virginia — stuffed with A BIG PILE OF AMAZING, READY-TO-EAT CRUNCHY THINGS. The timing was eerie, providential and absolutely perfect.

I found this photo on the shipper’s website. Posing here are a bag of kick-ass pretzels and peanuts spicy enough to make your nose run, queso dip, salsa, hot sauce, tortilla chips, guacamole seasoning and chili mix. The basket itself is awfully nice, too, although I’m not sure what I’ll do with it yet. Right now my main concern is consuming as many snacks as possible — as quickly as possible — before I starve to death. (I haven’t eaten anything since we had lunch at the casino.)

I need to eat something. Thank you for reading this.

Sam and Marcy’s interesting day.

It began with a freeway adventure on our way to the Choctaw Casino surrounded by dozens of blinking “oversized load” vehicles and gigantic trucks — seriously, the biggest damn trucks I’ve ever seen in my life — hauling JET AIRPLANE WINGS at least half a block long. Considering the size of their cargo they all moved along at a pretty decent clip, and Sam and I arrived at our destination just in time for lunch before the rest of the senior citizens shlepped into the buffet line. And because inquiring minds want to know, yesterday’s featured sugar-free pie was lemon meringue.

Sam was clearly our big winner at the slots. He ended the day $70 ahead and recouped everything we spent, including gas and lunch.

For the gamblers among you who might be taking notes, the Howdygram’s two favorite slot machines are Sirens and DaVinci Diamonds. We highly recommend both because you get bonuses and free spins with great background music. Also, Sirens has the best payout (and the best light show) when you get five-girls-in-a-row with the purple hair. Their boobs even start to glow. Next time I’ll bring a seat restraint for Sam so he doesn’t jump off the stool and scare people.

We’ve got two very fun things planned for today!

Fun Thing #1. Sam promised to hang some wall decor that’s been sitting in the closet for the last couple of months, mostly because he loves me and hopes I’ll stop pestering him.

Fun Thing #2. Tonight before dinner we want to drive around looking at Christmas lights. The best neighborhood in Dallas is always Highland Park starting at Preston Road and Armstrong ... certifiable mansions with lights done by professionals. (Translation: zero inflatable Santas.) We bring along Altoids and Wheat Thins so we won’t starve to death.

Thank you for reading this. I’m not joking.

No pretzels and the sweaters from hell.

Lucky you … I’m wide awake at 2:30 a.m., posting another intriguing entry to the Howdygram with a nice, tall Marcytini to keep me company. A bowl of pretzels would be swell, too, but we don’t have any in the pantry and I’m way too old for a middle-of-the-night snack run to Wal-Mart. Plus it’s 34° outside. I may be hungry, but I’m not crazy.

And now, something from the Howdygram’s Why It’s Great To Be Jewish department ... classic examples of designer Christmas fashions for goyim. I’d be willing to bet the models posing below also have neon reindeer and inflatable spinning Santas on their front lawns, just like our neighbor across the street.

I should think about going to bed now. Our handyman, Gary, is coming over later today to do a couple of projects for us — such as re-caulking the shower in the master bathroom — and it would be really nice if I didn’t need an afternoon nap because I stayed up all night writing about pretzels, Christmas sweaters and caulk.

Incidentally, there are only 11 more days until Hanukkah, so please stay tuned for my official wish list. Thank you in advance for your generosity.