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?

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.)

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!

The South Pacific Marcytini is my standard recipe with sugar-free Hawaiian Punch powder mixed in.

In this post: Kvetching, drinking, shopping.

Hi, people. The big news story from Howdygram headquarters? Lowe’s called yesterday afternoon and OUR NEW WHIRLPOOL WATER HEATER (pictured at left) is finally in stock and ready for installation! All I can say is, HOLY CRAP and we’re damn lucky we weren’t having a hot water emergency around here because we waited 17 days for this thing. Lowe’s says the contractor will get in touch with us Tuesday morning to set up our appointment. Oh boy, right?

The cleanest senior citizen in town might have a tamale emergency.

In this post: Insomnia, subscriptions, Einsteins on Mars.

It’s 3:30 in the morning and I can’t sleep. Don’t nag me about this; I’ve tried, and it’s just no use whatsoever. Sam and I went to bed at 1:30, but after thrashing around for half an hour I sat up and announced that I wanted to take a nice hot shower even though nobody was listening. So here I am in the study, the cleanest senior citizen in town, waiting for my hair to dry. I’ll get through this ordeal somehow.

The only thing that might make today tolerable is a large quantity of braunschweiger.

In this post: No sleep, no holes, no nothing.

It’s damp and gray in north Texas this morning, and I want everybody to know that I’m crabby, hungry, achy, aggravated, really cold and tired as hell. It’s not easy to be all those things concurrently but I’ve always been an over-achiever. The reason for today’s distress? A SERIOUS LACK OF SLEEP (read my previous post). After hanging out at my desk half the night horsing around with the Howdygram and watching screwy videos, at 5 a.m. I finally conked out on the chaise in the family room and slept until 8:30. I look as lousy as I feel, my feet hurt and my blood sugar is too damn high.

I can always sleep on the chaise in the family room. Our chaise has ether in it.

In this post: File dumping, mayhem in suburbia, insomnia.

Now that I’m retired and my web design/graphic design business is defunct for eternity I finally decided to clean out a few folders from my hard drive that were jammed with crap I didn’t need any more. For instance, outdated email campaigns, logo ideas for ex-clients, old artwork, designs on spec for various deadbeats and project quotes for people I honestly can’t remember. However I didn’t quite realize until I clicked “Empty Trash” that about 3,200 files were involved and it would take more than 45 minutes to dump them all. As I begin this post I’m finally down to the last 200. Whoa.

Holy crap. The Professor died.

In this post: A pesty client, Dead Famous People.

So here’s the scoop from Howdygram headquarters! It’s Friday morning, 6 a.m., I’ve been awake since 4:45 and I have zero motivation to work on website updates for an annoying client in Philadelphia who thinks I’m still interested in this kind of crap. Mostly I want to tell her to take a flying leap off Independence Hall and leave me alone — HEY! I’M RETIRED! — but Sam convinced me to do the work and cash her check. (Okay. Fine. Maybe later.)

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

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

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

Insomnia, the kvetch du jour.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Boris Karloff was a well-dressed Hollywood hunk.

In this post: Insomnia, dense fog, horror movies.

I tried to go to bed at a couple of hours ago — around 1:30, I think — but when I couldn’t fall asleep I decided to get up and horse around with the Howdygram. So here I am again, annoying you in the middle of the night. Try to move on, okay?

Immersed in my favorite activity whenever I’m wide awake in the middle of the night.

In this post: Sucking TicTacs, studying Royals, breaking records.

It’s 6:30 in the morning and I’ve been awake since 4. Aside from sucking TicTacs and playing video poker, I am immersed in my favorite activity whenever I’m wide awake in the middle of the night ... visiting the royal family’s official website at www.royal.gov.uk. There are lots of lovely photos of rich people doing things, such as this image of the Queen signing a royal message to stuff into The Queen’s Baton (picture a fancy bedazzled suppository) that will travel all around Britain in a carriage before arriving in Glasgow for the Commonwealth Games. Fun fact ... the Queen has worn her hair like this since 1960.

Rich and happy tile-loving Russian seeks child bride.

In this post: Indecent proposal, insomnia.

Me again, your favorite insomniac blogger. It’s 6 a.m. and I’ve been awake since 3:45 doing nothing of any consequence, although I do have a brief news item to share! I’d like to introduce debonair Don Milisav Brzi, age 39, a millionaire Russian who’s in the market for a girl ... object marriage. Don is looking for a “child bride” age 16 to 20 (holy crap) and has created the following ad with accompanying photos to lure the perfect girl to a happy life in St. Petersburg. With fur, lots of tile and more gold than King Tut’s tomb.

Note to Senator Cruz: Good luck with that, you delusional snot-head.

In this post: Kvetch report, Senator Turd Cruz wins big.

It’s 5:15 a.m. and I’m on “dawn patrol” again today. I can’t be 100% sure, but I think the excruciating pain in my hands, knees and ankles woke me up! It’s actually so bad I almost couldn’t make it to the bathroom — a tragedy if there ever was one — and had to use BOTH HANDS on my cane to drag myself down the hall. I’m totally wide awake now after all that shlepping and moaning so you’ll probably be stuck with me for a while. Holy crap.

Wanted: A haircut, wintergreen TicTacs and a winning lottery ticket so Sam can stop working.

In this post: Kvetch report, hating Congress, new faces.

Once again I am awake in the middle of the night with burning hot hands and feet — plus stabbing pain and spazzy “electric” shocks — due to peripheral neuropathy. I’ve been back to bed three times since 1 a.m. and finally wound up on the chaise in the family room because sometimes the weight of an ordinary bedsheet is just too much for me. Unfortunately, tonight even the chaise didn’t work out. I’m exhausted, annoyed and miserable. Damn it, people ... I need sleep but I can’t get comfortable!

Ah, insomnia. Again.

I have some serious insomnia tonight, people. I tried going to bed around 1 a.m. with Sam but my hands and feet were all weirded-out with neuropathy and I couldn’t get comfortable, so I decided to park myself in the study to eat TicTacs and horse around with Howdygram. Technically I wasted the first two hours reading all the latest posts on Gawker.com and Jezebel.com (two of my favorite websites) and watching clips from last night’s Video Music Awards … particularly an outrageous performance by mostly-naked pop slut Miley Cyrus, a rich white girl with marginal talent who pretends she’s “ghetto” to get attention. Miley got what she wanted, except the attention all over the Internet today was NEGATIVE because she looked like such an over-sexed idiot. Holy crap.

From our Yup, Only in Texas department comes this story of poetic justice. It seems that a local outbreak of 21 cases of measles has been linked to Eagle Mountain International Church here in north Texas ... a mega-church affiliated with Kenneth Copeland’s prosperity gospel baloney that preaches against immunizations. All of a sudden, though, the pastor’s daughter is telling everybody to hurry up and get vaccinated ... but “The main thing is to stay in faith. Do it in faith.” Whatever the hell that means. I think it would be smarter to do it in a doctor’s office.

I really have to go to bed now. It’s after 5 a.m. and I look AWFUL. Thank you.

I am so ready to retire I can taste it.

I hate my clients. If this sounds evil and ungrateful you’d better get over it, because I’m sick of their petty issues, bogus emergencies, stupid requests, general confusion and email accounts that stop working. Hey, Einstein, here’s a wild guess ... maybe because you haven’t deleted any email since 2003 and Outlook had a brain hemhorrage?

I am so ready to retire I can taste it.

And now ... here’s what’s coming up next week on TCM’s Summer Under the Stars festival.

• CATHERINE DENEUVE, 8/12. If you enjoy French films with subtitles, this is your lucky day. Me, not so much. I have no favorite Catherine Deneuve movies because I can’t understand what she’s talking about.
• MICKEY ROONEY, 8/13. TCM is showing a lot of my Mickey Rooney favorites today. The best of them are A Family Affair (1936), the original Andy Hardy “pilot” co-starring Lionel Barrymore and Spring Byington; Boys Town (1938) with Spencer Tracy; and Strike Up the Band (1940) with Judy Garland.
• BETTE DAVIS, 8/14. Don’t miss Jezebel (1938) with Henry Fonda and George Brent; The Letter (1940) with Herbert Marshall; Now, Voyager (1942) with Paul Henreid; Dark Victory (1939) with George Brent and Humphrey Bogart; and The Man Who Came to Dinner (1942) with Monty Woolley and Ann Sheridan.
• GREGORY PECK, 8/15. Be sure to see Designing Woman (1957) with Lauren Bacall and The Guns of Navarone (1961) with David Niven and Anthony Quinn. For some reason TCM isn’t showing my two favorite Gregory Peck movies this time — Roman Holiday with Audrey Hepburn and Gentleman’s Agreement with Dorothy McGuire. I’m pissed, quite frankly, but I’m pretty sure nobody cares. Am I right?
• ANN BLYTH, 8/16. Like boring operettas with excellent costumes? Ann Blyth made a pile of them, and today’s the day to see them all on TCM, including: Kismet (1955); The Student Prince (1954); and Rose Marie (1954). Personally, I think you should skip the all the stupid singing and just watch Mildred Pierce (1945) with Joan Crawford. Trust me, Mildred Pierce is NOT a musical. (Not even close.)

I’ve got insomnia tonight. I’m guessing it’s because I took a three-hour nap yesterday afternoon and screwed up my sleep schedule. Fortunately, I think I’m finally ready to go to bed following a quick shlep into the kitchen for chocolate soy milk. Thank you for reading this.