The New Jersey dirtbags are headed to prison.

In this post: Very important things.

This is a day full of very important things, which I’ll list for you below in no particular order whatsoever.

A BIG FEDEX DELIVERY. Today’s wonderful load of crap includes three separate shipments from Wal-Mart featuring Snyder’s honey & mustard pretzels for Sam, Hormel roast beef hash, convenient little bags of StarKist tuna, Spam, six jars of Mezzetta spicy veggies — carrots! cauliflower! celery! nuclear peppers! — and a box of Ziploc gallon storage bags. Wondering how come I buy these things online? It’s because I’ve got a variety of lousy mobility issues, I haven’t set foot inside a supermarket for about five years and Sam hates grocery shopping. So now you can stop worrying about this, okay? (Thank you.)

Yes, dear friends, there are pound cake emergencies.

In this post: DVD disaster, sunken cakes, Real Housewives.

There’s some aggravating crap going on today at Howdygram headquarters so grab yourself a braunschweiger sandwich and get comfortable.

AGGRAVATING CRAP #1. It was my big Sunday afternoon plan to watch a Hildegarde Withers murdery mystery triple-feature — The Penguin Pool Murder, Murder on the Blackboard and Murder on a Honeymoon starring Edna May Oliver and James Gleason — all from the big Hildegarde Withers movie collection I ordered last week from Amazon (see post). Sadly, about 30 minutes into the first movie on disc one THE DVD HAD A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN. The error message said “unreadable” so I had to eject the disc. (Incidentally, the swell and helpful customer service people at Amazon are replacing my DVD collection and I’ve already got my free UPS return label. I love these guys. You should be shopping there.)

I don’t mind eating cake with a soup spoon.

In this post: Edible baking disasters, Emmys, Real Housewives.

Now that I’ve successfully dodged the FBI (see previous post) it’s time to get y’all up-to-date with the rest of my Sunday activities, all conveniently listed for you below.

Starting next season, tune in for the “Real Housewives of Sing-Sing.”

The hottest news on the Internet today involves a massive federal fraud indictment against Teresa and Joe (Giuseppe) Giudice from “Real Housewives of New Jersey,” my favorite white-trash reality show. The spray-tanned bimbo (with the neanderthal hairline) and her Mafia-wannabe husband have been charged with 39 counts of bank fraud, mortgage fraud, income tax fraud, wire fraud, hiding assets from a bankruptcy court and tax evasion. It’s not likely that either of them will escape prison because the feds used the same kind of charges to finally nail Al Capone. Is this a fantastic story line, or what? Starting next season, tune in for the “Real Housewives of Sing-Sing.” Oh boy!

In case you care about this, Teresa and Joe are currently free on $500,000 bond (each), have had their passports revoked and are not allowed to leave New Joisey or New Yawk. It’s also possible that Joe will be deported to Italy since he’s not even an American citizen. Holy crapanini. Looks like the federal government finally found a way to get these two phony piles of poo off the air!

I honestly thought I was finally feeling better tonight. My fever spiked this morning at 6 a.m. and Sam wrapped me up in a couple of extra blankets to stop the chills, but by lunch time my temperature was normal and stayed there for the rest of the day. UNTIL NOW. It’s back up to 99.8°, which is substantial for moi because my normal temp is 97°. Regardless, after dinner I will force myself to fold a basket of socks and underwear because Sam’s dresser drawers are practically empty and I don’t think he should run around naked for anybody except me.

The optical department at Costco called a few minutes ago ... my new glasses are ready! This is so damn exciting I can hardly stand it. Sam says he’ll take me to pick them up Thursday morning because tomorrow’s already booked (I’ve got a 9 a.m. doctor appointment). I’ll look like a million bucks in these. No autographs, please.

It’s already 7:30 p.m. so I think I’d better haul my butt into the kitchen and seriously ponder a nice plate of grub, a tall beverage and a splash of insulin on the rocks. Thank you, as always, for reading this.

Sam would never sit through any of these for any reason whatsoever.

This is the story of Sam and his 90-hour work-week. After four consecutive days last week stuck in the office until 5 a.m., he’s been working from home almost nonstop yesterday and today. Tonight around 7 he’ll drive downtown to the office and stay until 7 a.m., after which he hopes to take some time off to unscramble and recharge his sleep-deprived brain. He also needs a large quantity of healthy food because he’s eaten practically NOTHING since Friday, not counting a couple of ice cream sandwiches and a sack of bird food. (Actually, it was trail mix.) Sam looks generally pasty, unshaven, pooped and not especially happy. If you want to send him a present or a greeting card, please write to request our mailing address as soon as possible Thank you.

As for moi, my plantar fasciitis is on the mend and my feet are feeling moderately okay today! Therefore, I celebrated by making CarbQuik biscuits for lunch, and for dinner tonight I’m considering a BLT on low-carb toast minus the L and T because I don’t have any. So I guess that means it’s just a B. With mayo. Yee-haw.

Hey. If you’re as disappointed by — and pissed off about — the George Zimmerman verdict as I am, please take a minute to sign the petition on MoveOn.org encouraging Attorney General Eric Holder and the Department of Justice to file civil rights charges. The petition actually started on the NAACP’s website but there’s so much traffic that it’s been impossible to access the page.

Doing anything delightful tonight? After Sam leaves for the office I’m hosting a TV festival for an audience of one (you know, just me), which includes: 1) this week’s exciting episode of “Real Housewives of New Jersey”; 2) The Birdcage (1996) starring Robin Williams and Nathan Lane; and 3) The Rains Came (1939) starring Myrna Loy, Tyrone Power and George Brent. Yes, I have eccentric tastes. Sue me. Also, Sam would never sit through any of these for any reason whatsoever.

For the record, The Birdcage is one of my all-time favorite movies and I chose The Rains Came in honor of tonight’s weather. Thank you for reading this.

Tune in next Sunday for beefy Mafia wannabes who own shady construction companies.

I’m curious. Does everybody like the Howdygram’s new round logo with the happy cowpoke in the middle? (That’s Sam, in case you didn’t know.) I just finished three loads of laundry and decided to treat myself to a little “design time” as a reward. Thank you for putting up with me.

I also want to wish my sister-in-law Lisa a very happy birthday from Sam and me. Mazel tov, congratulations and holy crap! In case you’re interested, Lisa, I plan to celebrate by eating an entire pot of Bear Creek hot & sour soup all by myself, mostly because you’re in California and I’m NOT.

Did anyone besides me see part one of the Real Housewives of New Jersey reunion special last night on Bravo? These five lunatics offer the clearest reason EVER for not having girlfriends, because watching them scream and bitch at each other for an hour like vicious, jealous middle-school brats actually made my skin crawl. But believe it or not, I actually felt clean, sane and normal afterwards, like I’d just finished six months of psychotherapy.

Be sure to tune in next Sunday night for part two, because this time the HUSBANDS join in, a bunch of beefy Mafia wannabes who own shady construction companies! It can only get worse, right? Oh boy!

Thank you for reading this.

The sushi tray that got away and other tales of interest.

For the thousands of you keeping track of my health issues, lab results and expanding regimen of prescription medications I’m pleased to report that I finally have an appointment for a “baseline” kidney ultrasound … 9:30 a.m. on August 28 at Baylor Medical Center in Garland.

I’m thinking about asking Sam to come with me so we can turn this into a fun outing and stop for Senior Scrambled Eggs at Denny’s on the way home. The map below indicates: A) Howdygram headquarters in Mesquite; B) Baylor Medical Center in Garland; and C) Denny’s. Please send an email if you’d like to join us at Denny’s so I can get a table that’s big enough. Thank you.

In case you’re wondering, I didn’t write a post yesterday because Sam and I were too busy eating and sleeping after a morning excursion to Costco, where we loaded our cart with the following awesome crap:

• chicken salad
• tortellini pasta salad
• a carton of charcoal-grilled hamburger patties
• lots of sliced cheese
• sliced up rotisserie chicken for sandwiches
• a tub of tasty mozzarella balls floating in olive oil
• steak flautas
• three pounds of pistachios
• a sack of crumbled bacon
• dried apricots in big, big bag
• two dozen really cute peeled hard-boiled eggs

I also wanted a party-size platter of assorted sushi (see below) but Sam managed to talk me out of it at the last minute. I recovered from my disappointment when he consented to a large quantity of PEELED HARD-BOILED EGGS, easily the most brilliant invention ever not counting cruise control and penicillin. I made us a pile of deviled eggs as soon as we got home.

From our Two-Slugs-On-A-Couch department, we watched a number of interesting movies this weekend, including: 1) Professional Soldier (1935) with Victor McLaglen and Freddie Bartholomew; 2) Listen, Darling (1938) with Judy Garland, Freddie Bartholomew, Mary Astor and Walter Pidgeon; 3) North by Northwest (1959) with Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint; and 4) Hatfields and McCoys (2012) with Kevin Costner and Bill Paxton. Numbers one through three were terrific. Concerning number four, Hatfields and McCoys was a barbaric hillbilly nightmare that SUCKED and we deleted it from our DVR less than 20 minutes after we started watching. I couldn’t even look at the screen.

I have no idea how or why this redneck hatefest was nominated for so many Emmy awards. Holy crap, who in their right mind would consider children being shot in the head with rifles — only because they have the wrong last name — to be ENTERTAINMENT. Personally, I’m much happier with fine programming like “Hardcore Pawn” and “Real Housewives of New Jersey.”

For the record, I placed my very first online order today with the National Mustard Museum store for the fine products pictured below. This website receives a Howdygram recommendation for being hilarious, clever and a genuinely fun place to spend money! The owner (and museum curator) is Barry Levenson, Wisconsin’s former attorney general, who resigned from law in 1991 to devote his life to mustard. (I am absolutely, positively NOT KIDDING about this.) Barry’s regular email newsletter (subscribe here) is just as adorable as his website. He is shown at right wearing official apparel from his Poupon U. collection. Perfect Hanukkah presents for all your favorite Jewish mustard lovers, which probably number in the thousands.

All of a sudden I have a huge craving for bratwurst. Thank you for reading this.

Sunday night escapades include a teeny can of tasty braised gluten and “Real Housewives of New Jersey.”

Sundays can be packed with exciting surprises!

Exciting surprise number one. I’m hanging out at my desk in Howdygramland following two juicy afternoon naps when an email pops up from my doctor with the results of last week’s lab work. Two important things are highly improved and looking swell (cholesterol and triglycerides), most things are normal, and other things are not so good. It’s that damn “not so good” category that’s got me flummoxed again. A number of results point to declining kidney function, so Dr. M wants me to head back to the kidney specialist for an evaluation. I was actually supposed to do this about six months ago but didn’t follow up because, as a whiny diabetic, I get really tired of medicine, doctors, waiting rooms and needles. But I’ll call Dr. Hsu’s office tomorrow, anyway, and set up an appointment so I can finally find out what needs to be done. Stay tuned for additional details and thank you for your support.

Exciting surprise number two. A colorful animated graphic on Weather.com indicates that a big line of strong thunderstorms is heading our way. Although my first gut reaction is to stand on the front lawn and scream WEATHER.COM IS A LYING SACK OF POO, this time I think they might be on to something. The sky is getting dark, the wind is picking up and birdies are running for cover. (Okay, maybe not the part about the birdies.) The bright red star on the map below denotes Howdygram headquarters.

Exciting surprise number three. It was the movie we saw last night ... Night Flight, a weird “lost classic” from 1933 starring Clark Gable, Myrna Loy, Helen Hayes, Robert Montgomery and a couple of Barrymores. My general rule of thumb is, just because a movie’s OLD doesn’t mean it’s a CLASSIC. Apparently Night Flight was pulled from circulation in 1940 because the author of the original book hated the film — after seeing it, I can appreciate his point — and it took almost 20 years for Turner Classic Movies to negotiate the rights to show it on TV. Night Flight is a story about the dangers of early airmail aviation in South America. Aside from one or two nail-biter flying sequences it’s pretty much a wasted 84 minutes of your life. Melodramatic John Barrymore as the heartless airline boss has a lot of fun chewing scenery but the rest of the A-list cast is totally wasted and almost none of them have any scenes together. Clark Gable is always stuck in his cockpit, has no real dialog but gets to make a lot of orgasmic facial expressions to show us how much he loves to fly. Robert Montgomery does considerably LESS. Helen Hayes goes berserk waiting for her husband’s plane to land so she sits at her dining room table making love to an empty chair. Depressing and disheveled Lionel Barrymore spends the entire film scratching a rash on his chest until you’re ready to kick the screen. Myrna Loy has one really stupid short monologue where she talks to the ceiling while her husband gets dressed to fly the mail at night. We probably would’ve changed the channel except we didn’t feel much like watching Bulgarian volleyball on NBC.

It’s almost 7:30 so I suppose I ought to think about dinner even though Sam just ate an ice cream cone and probably isn’t hungry any more. Maybe I’ll open a teeny can of tasty braised gluten that I ordered from AsianFoodGrocer.com and get ready for tonight’s episode of “Real Housewives of New Jersey.”

Thank you for reading this.

Yesterday.

Sunday was awesome. It was so awesome, in fact, that I didn’t even have the time or inclination to write a post about it until now. Since I’m positive you won’t be able to continue with your day until I’ve shared the minutiae, grab yourself a lemonade and here goes.

My wonderful Sunday included ...

iPad App Acquisitions. I spent a little time horsing around on the iPad App Store and downloaded the following: 1) the Internet Movie Database; 2) TripAdvisor; 3) MyRadar weather maps and forecasts; and 4) an essential little doohickey called Where to Eat that — go on, take a guess — locates restaurants so I won’t have to be without Mongolian chicken anywhere in the United States. Ever. I’m also hoping to find a GPS locator app called Gefilte Fish Finder, so if you run across anything that fits this description please let me know as soon as possible. Thank you.

Memorable Television Programming. I enjoyed six hours of nonstop Diamond Jubilee horseshit on BBC America, including the entire Thames River pagaent and a special one-hour documentary about the life of Queen Elizabeth. Pictured below are the Queen and Prince Philip with the cast of “H.M.S. Pinafore” (just kidding) in a motorboat heading to the Spirit of Chartwell barge — check out that dude on the right with the skirt and red tights — and another shot of all the essential royals squished under a screwy gold canopy because it was pouring rain and God forbid any hats should get wet.

And I’ll also include a photo of the flotilla on the Thames (see below), led by a several hundred nitwits in costume rowing their own boats. The big one out in front is the Gloriana, powered by galley slaves like Ben Hur.

I also watched Tiger Woods win the Memorial yesterday at the Muirfield Village Golf Club in Ohio, tying Jack Nicklaus’ 73 lifetime PGA tournament wins. This was a very big hoo-hah  because Tiger’s game has been mostly crappy for the last couple of years. Jack was on hand to present the tournament’s trophy, which apparently was laser-engraved with a Hoover upright vacuum cleaner. (Is it just me, or is Jack shrinking?)

Last night also included: 1) the most amazing episode of AMC’s “Mad Men” I’ve ever seen, even better than the one two weeks ago when Joan agreed to sleep with a sleazy client to land the Jaguar account for Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce; 2) the “Real Housewives of New Jersey” flying to Chicago for a gay wedding in Barrington (seriously); and 3) “Veep” on HBO starring Julia Louis-Dreyfus. The official trailer for “Veep” appears below for your possible interest. (If you like it you’d better watch next Sunday because it’s the last episode of the season.)



A Charming Late Afternoon Drive. After Tiger won his trophy Sam and I jumped into the car for a lovely Sunday drive that included (see visual aid below): A) downtown Dallas and dinner at Pei Wei; B) the entire length of Harry Hines Boulevard heading northwest to Bachman Lake; and 3) back to Howdygram headquarters in Mesquite via Northwest Highway. En route we sang several of Sam & Marcy’s greatest hits and played Who Would You Rather See Naked.

It’s lunch time at last. Thank you for reading this!

Fudge is the best crap on earth, especially when it arrives in a six-pack.

It’s my official Sunday night quiet time here at Howdygram headquarters. Sam’s out of town, I’ve watched this week’s episodes of “Real Housewives of New Jersey” and “Mad Men,” and I’m getting ready to inject insulin and take a fistful of pills. Is this a great life, or what? In case you care, for dinner I had gefilte fish with horseradish, a hunk of sugar-free cake with chocolate frosting and two cups of hot & sour soup with a bunch of cubed tofu. In that order. (Sometimes I want dessert in the middle of my meal. Get over it.)

News flash. I just subscribed to Smucker’s Sugar Free Hot Fudge on Amazon and my first six jars will be here by Wednesday! This is fantastic on a number of different levels, but mostly because: 1) it’s sometimes hard to find this product in a retail store; and 2) fudge is the best crap on earth, especially when it arrives in a six-pack.

I think I’d better straighten up the kitchen and get myself to bed early tonight. Thank you for reading this. Seriously.

Gun shows are extremely popular in Texas. I hope I never have to miss another one.

I was hoping to write a post on Sunday but somehow never got around to it because Sam and I spent most of the day either napping, eating or planning our next meal. In my view these were thoroughly worthwhile and productive activities. I also browsed around online and wound up ordering some cool wheelchair accessories on Amazon.com, which are pictured below for your possible interest.

The backpack is big enough to hold damn near anything (well, maybe not live animals) and closes with velcro; the cup holder clamps onto an arm rest of your choice. And while I’m on the subject, please allow me to make a quick comment here. In case you’ve been concerned about this, I am not an invalid nor am I confined to a wheelchair, but I do have ongoing mobility issues caused by arthritis, neuropathy and plantar fasciitis. I bought a wheelchair last week for outings and activities that might require standing or walking for long periods of time, such as a museum, a Chinese buffet, the state fair or a gun show. (Gun shows are extremely popular in Texas. I hope I never have to miss another one.)

Just in case you give a crap about this, I’ve got a haircut appointment later today at a new salon. I’d been going to Vince’s in Garland for the last few months but my stylist’s primary language is Korean and she typically misinterprets “not too short” to mean “shave my head and make me look butch.” So I think it’s finally time to move on. Stay tuned for further developments.

And now I’d better wake Sam so we can go to bed. He’s been asleep in the family room since 8:30, which allowed me ample time to watch this week’s episodes of “Veep,” “Mad Men” and “Real Housewives of New Jersey” plus two “Hardcore Pawn” reruns. Thank y’all for reading this.

If these are “real housewives,” I’m Princess Grace.

Breaking news! Season four of Bravo TV’s official trashfest, the “Real Housewives of New Jersey,” premiers tomorrow at 8 p.m. Central time. Trust me, you don’t want to miss the merry hijinks of five narcissistic, sequined bimbos — whose formal educations combined might equal one GED — and their Mafia wannabe husbands, who speak to one another with respect and affection, such as: “You look at my wife like that again and they’ll have to wire your jaw shut.” Mostly it’s great fun to watch them all spend money they don’t have, get into fistfights at family events and embarrass their children on national television. This is excellent programming and you shouldn’t miss it.

I have nothing else to report at this time except that it’s 2 a.m. and I should be in bed. Thanks a million for stopping by. Tune in later for news about my first batch of teeny pies!

Gefilte fish. The other white meat.

Oy! In honor of Passover, which begins at sundown Friday, please allow me to post the following brand new photos of my great-nephew Cooper, 3 months old, who’s the cutest little matzo ball I’ve seen in years. I think he looks exactly like his father, although I’ve never seen Greg posing in a red inner tube with booties so it’s hard to say for sure.

And now I’d like to say a few words about gefilte fish, my #1 favorite Passover weakness. I love this stuff! I sent Sam to Tom Thumb this week to pick up six big jars for me on sale at $2.99 each — that’s about 60% off — plus a stockpile of horseradish so there’s no chance I’ll run out.

The gefilte fish cupcake pictured above is real ... but not actually “dessert.” I saw the recipe online. It’s just smooshed-up store-bought gefilte fish baked in cupcake tins with horseradish cream frosting. I don’t know about you, but I find this picture strangely exciting.

For the record, my #2 Passover weakness is beet borscht, which is impossible to find anywhere in Dallas because the local Jim-Bobs have no conception of anything that’s even remotely “ethnic” unless it’s a taco. So yesterday I ordered myself two big jars — sugar-free! — from the Manischewitz website. I like my borscht ice cold with a glob of sour cream mixed in. How about you?

A quick reminder to those of you with an interest in fine television programming! The new season of “Deadliest Catch” premiers April 10 on the Discovery Channel, and the season four trashfest of “Real Housewives of New Jersey” begins April 22 on Bravo. Thank you for reading this.

Go Rangers!

Everybody around here went to bed early last night — immediately after the Rangers nailed game four of the World Series — but I hung out a little longer to watch an essential program I’d recorded a couple of hours earlier … part two of the “Real Housewives of New Jersey” reunion special on Bravo now that season three has come to an end.

For those of you who avoid this crap poop pop culture phenomenon, the “Real Housewives of New Jersey” is a reality show about five dysfunctional sequin addicts married to illiterate mafia wannabes. You can tell they’re all related by the way they talk to — and about — each other, and the reunion was a vicious, profanity-laced hate-fest that would make Jerry Springer proud. The “housewives” all wore glitter eye shadow and three quarts of lip gloss, made fake gagging sounds when they discussed each other’s husbands, and then everybody ganged up on Teresa, who deserved it, at least twice. This is truly excellent television.

Teresa is a Neanderthal and she has four equally-Neanderthalish daughters. She and her husband, Giuseppe Neanderthal, are $11 million in debt because sequins are expensive. Plus he’s facing 10 years in prison for defrauding his former business partner and for driving drunk with a fake ID.

If bimbos like this were involved in MY life I’d be first in line for the witness protection program and move to another continent. However, the reunion was so damn good I might have to watch it again. 

In other news, we’re taking mom to the Choctaw Casino today for a few hours at the penny slots and a swell buffet lunch. The buffet part is particularly important because they have a SUGAR-FREE DESSERT BAR with banana cream pie that’s so good I might even skip the entrees. The only reason we can’t leave RIGHT NOW is because there’s a dense fog event going on in north Texas. Weather.com says it’s supposed to lift by 10 a.m. but it’s awfully hard to believe them. (They lie.)

For your possible interest, below is a photo of George W. Bush throwing out the first pitch at last night’s World Series game.

Thank you for reading this.

Sometimes you have to face reality.

Let me start by wishing y’all a happy Labor Day. I started my own private celebration about half an hour ago when I refused to rinse the dishes in the sink. Sam was already in bed and I figured, screw it, they can just sit there in a pile and be crusty for a few more hours because I’d rather write this post.

And now, here’s a Howdygram slant on reality.

First, Texas’ extreme drought and blistering heat have given way to strong winds — but NO RAIN — generated by tropical storm Lee, with more than 300 homes destroyed yesterday by uncontrolled wildfires near Austin. And apparently there’s still a huge fire raging at Possum Kingdom State Park just west of Fort Worth. I wonder if it’s close enough to see smoke from here. Remind me to check after the sun comes up.

Second, here’s some BIG NEWS. “Top Chef” season 9 is currently filming in Dallas, Austin and San Antonio! Our local newspaper has reported several cast sightings around town and a number of “cheftestant” shopping sprees at Whole Foods.

I find this extremely exciting because I love “Top Chef.” Pictured above is celebrity chef and judge Buck Colicchio. I sincerely hope the contestants will be expected to cook some real Texas cuisine. I’m thinking maybe a road kill challenge, i.e., Armadillo Two Ways with a Balsamic Reduction and Deep-Fried Paws with Parmesan Grits.

And finally, even though last August I swore off the “Real Housewives of New Jersey” and promised I’d never watch this trash again, I find that I’m still strangely addicted, like staring at a train wreck. Today Bravo aired every back episode from the current season — most of which I missed by pretending not to be interested — so I finally had a chance to catch up with my favorite sequined and altogether useless hoochie-mamas from the Garden State.

Pictured above, from left to right, are Jacqueline, Teresa, Caroline, Kathy (Teresa’s cousin) and Melissa (Teresa’s sister-in-law). Kathy and Melissa are new this season. Bravo cleverly decided to add them to the cast because they both hate Teresa and can’t stop talking about her. Actually, EVERYBODY hates Teresa, and Teresa is apparently the only person who hasn’t figured this out.

Nobody’s too thrilled with Teresa’s husband, either. Or her kids.

The most important thing to know about this crew is they’re all Italian, they all live in 10,000 square foot marble mansions they can’t afford, they all drive Mercedes SUVs, drink way too much wine, and their husbands are all mafia wannabes — the kind that punch relatives at christenings, flip tables in restaurants and threaten to wire each other’s jaws shut. This is all great fun and typically occurs in front of the children. I encourage you to tune it on Sunday nights.

A quick Club Meds update. I’m pleased to report that I’ve stopped taking Niacin because I got fed up with the side effects. Dr. M had me taking a rather enormous dose every night at bedtime to try and lower my triglycerides, but I used to wake up around 3 a.m. itching like a maniac from head to toe with a prickly little rash. And after some online research I also discovered something else — a high dose of Niacin can increase your blood sugar, which might explain why I can’t get mine under control any more. According to WebMd a high dose is considered anything more than 100mg per day. I was taking 1,000.

My brain is ready to explode so maybe I should just go to bed. Thank you for reading this.

Delirium, debt and marinara sauce.

I apologize for not writing a post on Sunday or Monday. Frankly, I had kind of a lost weekend and it took a couple of days to get back into the swing of things around here. My high fever came back on Saturday night and I wound up like an amorphous mass on the couch all weekend, ate practically nothing for two days and then decided to stop taking my new diabetes medication (Onglyza) because it was probably the trigger for all this. Unfortunately, lack of food and the choice to discontinue one of my meds definitely did NOT help my blood sugar, which is now ricocheting all over the map and I have an appointment to see my doctor Thursday morning. Stay tuned.

Other than that, everything here is really good with two exceptions: 1) the debt ceiling stalemate going on in Washington; and 2) I can’t believe I have to wait five more days for the next episode of “The Real Housewives of New Jersey.”

On last week’s show Melissa and Joe had to kick out a pair of moron guests from their Christmas party. Truth is, if they kicked out ALL their moron guests they could have saved money on liquor because there wouldn’t be anybody left.

For those of you who aren’t fans, “The Real Housewives of New Jersey” is the trashiest show on television and my #1 favorite guilty pleasure. These women cook dinner in sequined hoochie-mama dresses and they’re all married to a bunch of barely-literate mafia wannabes with hair-trigger tempers who hurl tables and beat up their in-laws at banquet halls. This is truly television at its finest. Promise me you’ll tune in sometime.

I also highly recommend “Hardcore Pawn.”

And now I think I’d better eat something before I pass out. All of a sudden I have a taste for Italian. Thank you for reading this.

The best things in life are free or extremely cheap.

I’m having a really swell Monday. I’ve been very ambitious and very productive. For example, I cleaned the freezer this morning and dumped out a ton of old, unrecognizable, rock-hard whatnots I wouldn’t eat even if I was starving to death. Then I recorded two hours of “People’s Court” to watch later if I get bored because Sam won’t be home from work until daybreak tomorrow, and I’ve got a big bowl of homemade chicken salad waiting for me in the fridge. These are all excellent accomplishments. I also just discovered some good video clips of “Operation Repo” on TruTV’s website and thought I’d share my favorite. If this doesn’t encourage you make your car payment every month, nothing will.



I don’t know if you’re interested or not, but there’s a “Real Housewives of New Jersey” reunion show on Bravo tonight at 9 p.m. Actually, I’ve finally decided this series isn’t worth any more of my time and I won’t be watching after tonight’s finale. These women aren’t real, they aren’t housewives and they’re not even NORMAL. One is a former prostitute and another has the hairline and I.Q. of a Neanderthal ... and four scary little daughters who look exactly like her. But the finale tonight ought to be great because I saw a preview and the housewives try to beat each other up and do a lot of screaming and swearing. It’s a guilty pleasure, like pizza.

Poetic justice and other tales.

I’ve got two cool news stories to share with you, so here goes. You might want to go grab a lemonade or a couple of peanut butter cookies.

Cool News Story #1
Rick Norsigian of Fresno, California, who spent $45 on two boxes of glass plate photography negatives at a garage sale 10 years ago, has just had them authenticated as the lost works of iconic American photographer Ansel Adams ... worth an estimated $200 million. Adams, the best-known American landscape photographer of the early 20th century (see image below), lost his studio to a fire in 1937 and believed that most of the negatives from his early years (1919 through the early 1930s) were gone forever. This discovery of Adams’ lost photographs is being hailed as the missing link in his career. (Oy, why can’t this happen to me?)

Cool News Story #2
It has been reported that “Real Housewives of New Jersey” cast members Teresa and Joe Giudice have filed for bankruptcy. According to court documents, the Giudices are $11 million in debt and are accused of hiding assets and lying to the court about the value of others. Even worse, on August 22 the entire contents of their gaudy, 10,000 square foot gated mansion in Towaco, New Jersey, which is in foreclosure, will be auctioned to repay creditors. Items include a grand piano, two six-foot wide flat-screen televisions, massive gilded furniture, their wedding bands, a suit of armor and at least nine chandeliers. To read the entire list in PDF format, click here. (It’s a mighty impressive 13-page document. Give it a shot.)

These self-absorbed deadbeats also owe $12,000 to a fertility clinic and $5 million to Joe’s former real estate partner ... an issue that may also send Joe to jail after it was discovered that he forged the partner’s signature on fraudulent loan documents. They’ve stopped making payments on their Cadillac Escalade, and the bank has already taken their other homes in Jersey shore and Lincoln Park, New Jersey.

In light of the above, in last night’s episode Joe had the gall to present Teresa with a six-carat yellow diamond ring for their 10th wedding anniversary. I can only hope it was a QVC knockoff. And I’ll bet you thought this show was boring!

The lighter side of dental disasters.

I’m a firm believer that people can find humor in practically ANYTHING, including the fact that my front tooth fell out yesterday, post and all, and — thufferin’ thuccotash! — all of a sudden I’m talking like one of Sam’s favorite Loony Toons characters. This is in addition to another front tooth that fell out LAST month (see my post from June 8), all leading to some potentially crappy dental experiences that may be coming up shortly. And so, for your possible amusement (and my own personal distraction), take look below at a couple of photos from a fun new website we discovered ... Friends of Irony.

On Monday night’s episode of “Real Housewives of New Jersey” Danielle showed up at the police station with a couple of Italian lawyers to file charges against Jacqueline’s 19-year-old daughter, Ashley, for yanking out a handful of her hair extensions during that parking lot brawl at the country club fashion show. This was much better than any of the other story lines, such as Teresa going shopping, Danielle taking a self-defense class in case another teenager decides to grab her fake hair, and Caroline’s son Albie getting dumped from law school for being a dolt.

And while I’m on the subject, I finally figured out a few other relationships in the cast. The housewives on the right, Dina and Caroline, are sisters AND sisters-in-law (they’re married to two brothers), and the housewife on the far left, Jacqueline, is a sister-in-law, too, because she’s married to Dina and Caroline’s brother. Got that? The other two aren’t related to anybody except possibly the Gambino crime family.

Please let me know if you have any questions, and thank you for reading this.

Guilty pleasures.

I’ll begin by wishing everybody a happy and healthy Bastille Day. Celebrate the holiday in true Howdygram style ... get yourself an order of French fries and watch “A Tale of Two Cities” (the incredibly wonderful 1935 version with Ronald Colman) on TCM. Viva la France, y’all.

And now for my favorite guilty pleasure. I sincerely hope nobody is going to laugh at me about this, but a couple of months ago I got hooked on Bravo TV’s “Real Housewives of New Jersey.” I am without excuse and can’t figure out why I bother to watch, because these women are superficial, loud, Italian “Joisey” showoffs with obnoxious children, all living in gated mansions with the biggest furniture I’ve ever seen in my life. They have silicone boobs, voluminous hair extensions, wear four-inch heels around the house and go to daily nail appointments to make sure they always look their very best at the strip mall. (The entire state of New Jersey is one gigantic strip mall.) Last week they all got into a brawl at a country club fashion show and chased each other through the parking lot. It was great.

Theresa, second from the left, has a Neanderthal hairline and four hairy daughters who look exactly like her. The two on the right, Dina and Caroline, are sisters. The others apparently have no particular relationship to each other except for one common thread: everybody HATES the one in the middle, Danielle, who causes way too much trouble and always seems to be whining to a lawyer or the police about one exaggerated crisis or another. She’s actually pissed off so many people that she goes everywhere now with a bodyguard and thinks everybody wants to kill her. (She may be right.)

The show airs on Monday nights, so stay tuned for a Howdygram synopsis of each new episode. Thank you for reading this.