PB2 looks and tastes like something you’d scrape off the bottom of your shoe.

Today’s pet peeve. Products that get phenomenal reviews online but turn out to be total crap. I refer specifically to PB2 and PB2 with Premium Chocolate, overpriced powdered peanut butter products that are sold mostly by Internet retailers — or in health food stores — to idiots like me who get sucked in by five-star reviews. “PB2 with Chocolate tastes just like a Reese’s peanut butter cup!” No, actually, it doesn’t. It looks and tastes more like something you’d scrape off the bottom of your shoe. I bought one jar of each flavor last week during a visit to Sugarless DeLite in north Dallas.

PB2 is marketed as a healthy peanut butter substitute with 85% less fat and calories and “all the flavor of real peanut butter” when reconstituted with ordinary tap water. Horseshit. You wind up with gritty, inedible slime that tastes best when you shovel it into the garbage disposer. I couldn’t eat even one spoonful, and that’s a depressing investment at $7.49 per jar.

And now for something completely different. During a brief shopping junket yesterday at Tom Thumb I bought myself a jar of SUGAR-FREE SWEET PICKLES, as pictured below. My favorite way to eat sweet pickles is with a grilled cheese sandwich and chocolate milk. Other dining options include: 1) skip the grilled cheese and just eat them with chocolate milk; 2) chop them up in tuna salad; or 3) that’s probably about it.

These Mt. Olive No Sugar Added Sweet Gherkins are teeny, crunchy and sweet but not quite sweet enough, so feel free to dredge them in Equal.

In case you’re interested, my haircut turned out GREAT this morning! I went to Salon 2000, the biggest salon in Mesquite, which apparently must be quite a distinction because they mention it constantly. Salon 2000 is a little more expensive than salons I’ve used in recent years but at least I didn’t come home with a shaved head. Plus, Tiffany gave me a couple of free Redken samples. I love free Redken samples.

And now I think I’ll mosey into the kitchen to rustle up some grub for Sam and me. Thank you for reading this.

Living the good life. Free cookies, funeral planning and a hearing aid test.

It’s been a while since my last pet peeve outburst, but here goes.

Today’s pet peeve. I’m sick of multiple exclamation points and crackpot clients, and my current example combines them both. A couple of hours ago I got an email from a client named Janice that made no sense whatsoever. Here it is, copied and pasted, with her original typos intact. I should preface this by mentioning I hadn’t heard from her for more than two years.

“My Zumba instructor is employeed through Zumba Inc. he is an character on one of the DVD Rush Videos, he drives me crazy, hes great, I want him to contact you so bad for branding material and website! Because I love you!!!! His name is Jason, maybe you can send him some material to look at and tell him I recommended him to you! I showed him by business carts last night! He is so talented!!! But if no one knows you exist if doesn't matter! Jason is a dery humbled, God fearing Christian that will needs exposure. He is on video with Beto who invented ZUMBA!!!! THANK YOU!!!!!”

This woman scares the living crap out of me. She not only can’t type, she also can’t spell, can’t punctuate, can’t think and can’t conjugate a coherent sentence. I want to slap her senseless.

And now for something completely different! This must have something to do with my advancing 60+ age group, but lately I’ve been receiving pathetic ads in the mail. Today it was a free seminar on the topic “Funeral Advantage Program Assistance for Seniors” and a coupon for free cookies and a hearing aid test at the Mesquite Senior Center. In case you’re interested, I also qualify for Meals on Wheels now. I wonder if they deliver Mongolian chicken.

Thank you for reading this.

I don’t care what anybody says. The dust bowl is lousy entertainment.

I just escaped from the family room where Sam is watching The Grapes of Wrath, the most wretched, joyless and demoralizing movie on God’s green earth. The first ten minutes are enough to make me suicidal but most of the time I can’t even get past the CREDITS.

The Grapes of Wrath (1940) is based on John Steinbeck’s novel about destitute Oklahoma sharecroppers forced off their land by meanies during the “dust bowl” (in the early 1930s) and how they shlep to California crammed in a Beverly Hillbillies truck to look for work as migrant farm laborers. Grandma and Grandpa are lucky enough to die along the way but everybody else eventually gets to pick oranges for 2½¢ a bucket while being tormented by evil cops and snotty vigilantes, and if you bruise any of the fruit they HANG YOU. Okay, maybe not, but it’s definitely terrible with no sanitation or running water, everybody’s starving, and poor Tom Joad (played by Henry Fonda), who spent the best years of his life in prison, is always on the lam from one sheriff or another because he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer and everything he does — even the good stuff — turns out like crap. Henry is third from the left in the photo (above). I can’t remember the name of the goat.

Click here to purchase this sparkling comedy from Amazon.

Today’s pet peeve. Pointless concepts like “Navy pilots.” I mean, why would a person join the Navy to fly? Isn’t this basically just as stupid as “An RKO Radio Picture”?

I guess that about wraps it up for tonight since it’s time to head back to the kitchen to wash a frying pan and make a sugar-free banana cream pie. Due to the late hour, however, I’ll probably just eat the last piece of cake and make my pie tomorrow.

Thank you for reading this.

I think I finally figured out the big attraction at Mount Everest.

I’m pleased to report that the Howdygram has welcomed visitors from the following countries all within the last 48 hours: India, Singapore, the Netherlands, Japan, British Columbia, Nepal, Scotland, Ireland, South Africa, Australia, France and Argentina. To tell you the truth I have a really hard time picturing a dude in Nepal appreciating the finer points of the Howdygram, such as when I’m describing the joys of matzo farfel. Seriously.

Today’s pet peeve. Companies that want to shove me into a grave. Just because I’ve already collected my pension, walk with a cane and qualify for senior citizen discounts everywhere I go doesn’t mean I’m even remotely interested in promotional offers for CREMATION SERVICES AND PREPAID FUNERALS. Holy crap. I’m 60, not 90. Stop it!

Here’s what I just bought on Amazon.com: Dreamfields low-carb elbow macaroni, which is a brilliant innovation for diabetics like me. I just ordered six boxes.

A whole serving of Dreamfields has only 5g of carbs (as opposed to 45g for regular pasta) and there’s no difference whatsoever in taste or texture. Bottom line ... unless you’re trying to “carbo-load” before swimming the English Channel you should really be eating Dreamfields. I love this stuff.

And now I think I’ll try to take a quick afternoon nap until it’s time to sit in the window waiting for UPS to deliver my Bear Creek vegetable beef soup mixes. I’m hungry and plan to make one for dinner. Thank you for reading this.

A pair of pet peeves before breakfast.

Hello, howdy, happy Saturday and what’s for breakfast? I woke up really hungry and would probably ask Sam to shlep us over to Denny’s but it’s a little too cold outside (29°) to leave the house for a plate of food, even if it’s Senior Scrambled Eggs. We love their Senior Scrambled Eggs!

And now, please grab yourself a bagel and get comfortable. I want to unload for a minute.

Today’s pet peeve. I’m sick of Gabrielle Giffords. She was in the news again yesterday because the Navy named a COMBAT SHIP after her, and I want to know why anybody in their right mind would think that’s even remotely appropriate. What the hell for? She’s a POLITICIAN, for God’s sake, and she survived a gunshot. Big deal. Couldn’t the Navy dig up the names of a few deserving Medal of Honor winners who actually, you know, served in the MILITARY? The media and government are so obsessed with her — and she’s so over-saturated in the news — that I’m reacting to Giffords now like she's KIM KARDASHIAN. And that, dear readers, is the kiss of death.

Thank you for allowing me to spew. And I mean this most sincerely.

Today’s other pet peeve. Human skeletons who get hired as fashion models. We’ve all seen pictures of anorexic models, but Ioana Spangenberg (see below) beats them all. She’s a Romanian bag of bones with a freakish 20-inch waist that can’t possibly be for real. Spangenberg insists she eats three meals a day — please, give me a break — but a person who consumes solid food just can’t look like this. Holy crap, my wrists are thicker than her THIGHS! She says her husband thinks she’s gorgeous, and that’s certainly swell and wonderful, but any reputable fashion house or magazine that hires Spangenberg should be run out of town. She’s not a model, she’s a HANGER.

I’d better mosey into the kitchen and rustle up some grub. Thank y’all for reading this. I’ll try to be back later, but no promises.

What the hell ... I’ve got a nice big pantry, a cool husband and an American Express card!

Ever had a food craving you can’t explain? I have them all the time. Today, for instance, I desperately need CANNED CARROTS, so thank God I actually have two cans in the pantry. I pour off the liquid and eat them cold, right out of the can, sprinkled with two packages of Equal and several shots of — don’t gag — I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter spray. Other frequent cravings include: 1) a grilled cheese sandwich with six green olives; 2) banana pudding; 3) gefilte fish; 4) mushroom gravy on almost anything; and 5) baloney on white bread with one slice of American cheese.

Today’s pet peeve. Mazel tov. I just saw a news item that supermarkets have started phasing out their self-checkout lanes because almost nobody uses them any more. Sam actually likes these annoying things; I don’t. I figure if I want a job as a grocery store cashier I’ll apply for it and get some benefits. Back when gas stations first introduced self-service pumps in the early 1970s they offered customers a DISCOUNT if you didn’t need full service. Why should any of us scan and bag our own groceries so the market can save a few bucks on payroll? Technically, however, the reason for the phase-out is because supermarkets discovered that do-it-yourself checkouts haven’t saved them any money at all since they’ve had to hire extra staff to assist all the Einsteins trying to “play store.”

A Howdygram public service announcement. McDonald’s Shamrock Shake is back for a limited time and there’s even a convenient yet stupid shake locator service available at www.shamrockshake.com in case you’re interested, thirsty and unconcerned about consuming large quantites of heavily-sweetened artificial green dye. Enjoy your crappy beverage and have a nice day.

Products I can’t find in Texas. Mostly it’s anything Jewish that I’ve always been able to buy in a supermarket elsewhere in the United States. Gefilte fish is available occasionally depending on the time of year, except it sells for $10.99 a jar here and I’m pretty damn sure that’s a rip-off. Products I miss routinely include potato pancake mix, matzo farfel, matzo meal, skinny egg noodles and Yahrzeit candles. Therefore, please allow me to rave (again) about Amazon.com, the world’s best source for practically anything your local stores don’t stock. I just ordered the following two hard-to-find essentials.

The only minor drawback is that you have to buy THREE family-size cans of potato pancake mix and SIX cans of matzo farfel, but what the hell ... I’ve got a nice big pantry, a cool husband and an American Express card!

I’m ready for those canned carrots now. Thank you for reading this.

Cute babies, Clorox bleach and thanks for nothing, John McCain.

Here’s what I do at 4 in the morning when nobody’s looking. I order a large bottle of Maja cologne from Overstockperfume.com, a bigger and better roaster from Amazon.com and a couple of gallon jugs of Clorox bleach from Wal-Mart.com. The bleach was an especially nice bargain at $1.98. This time I’m trying that fancy-schmancy “Clean Linen” scent.

Today’s pet peeve. All of a sudden everybody is deifying SOLDIERS, and I don’t get it. Personally, I think we can blame pasty-faced screwball John McCain for this baloney because he got the ball rolling during his 2008 presidential campaign. McCain spent so much time glorifying members of the military — I even saw him cry talking about General Petraeus — that I was ready to barf in camouflage all over the TV. And I remember nutjob Sarah Palin screeching during one of her speeches that “John McCain knows how to win a war!” (Actually, Sarah, he doesn’t. He knows how to be a P.O.W.)

Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad there are people who volunteer to join the military. I just can’t understand why it’s such a big hoo-hah and why we have to elevate soldiers to the status of demi-gods. Restaurants, retail stores, schools, major league sports, special event venues, airlines, car dealers and cruise ships give them discounts, freebies, honors, upgrades and extra courtesies ... but I think policemen, firefighters, Chinese food delivery dudes and the Howdygram editorial staff deserve free crap and upgrades, too, because we all provide such essential services. I’m just saying.

And now I’d like to share some heartwarming family photos. First up is my niece Melissa’s little boy, Tyler, who’s 3½ years old. Is this guy precious, or what? These were taken just before Christmas last year.

And here’s baby Cooper, one day old, posing with his father’s hand in the upper photo and with his mom, Allison (Melissa’s younger sister), in the one below it. These were taken about two weeks ago.

By the way, we didn’t go to Denny’s this morning for Senior Scrambled Eggs but I’m okay with that because I know they won’t run out and there’s always Saturday and Sunday. Thank you for reading this.

Losers in the news and why you shouldn’t eat Underwood Deviled Ham.

This will probably be a post about lots of nothing special. I’ve got a list of potential topics and a few images to share, but my motivation will depend on what time I start to poop out and if Sam is coming home before sunrise or not. There’s really no way to know about Sam, because he’s got a huge hoo-hah project going on at the office and I haven’t heard from him since he pulled out of the garage at 3:15 yesterday afternoon. Let’s hold a good thought, okay?

Today’s pet peeve? Just because news websites aren’t bound by the same space limitations as print publications doesn’t mean we’re willing to read PILES OF MEANINGLESS CRAP. In addition to Todd Palin’s earth-shaking endorsement of Newt Gingrich and Chaz Bono’s upcoming trip to Belgrade to buy himself a shmeckle, I refer to the following “news stories” I found during the last 24 hours:

• Obscure former actress Kristy McNichol has “come out” as a lesbian to help teens who are bullied for their sexual orientation. Since Kristy hasn’t appeared on TV since 1995 there’s not a teen on earth who even knows who she is ... so what’s the point?
• Despicable Casey Anthony releases a video to show off her new blonde hair, glasses and nose rings.
• A 21-year-old Iranian man wound up with a permanent erection after having “good luck with your journeys” and the letter “M” (his girlfriend’s initial) tattooed on his penis.
• Desperate D-list celebrity and “Dancing with the Stars” flop Kate Gosselin will hostess a party on a Royal Caribbean cruise and sell autographs to her fans. Kate Gosselin has fans?

I couldn’t find a photo of the stupid Iranian dude’s penis. (Sorry.)

In breaking news, the Wall Street Journal reports that Hostess, beloved Texas-based maker of popular polyester lunchbox snacks, is filing for chapter 11 bankruptcy because they owe their vendors more than $50 million. It’s too soon to know whether or not Twinkies and Ding-Dongs will emerge unscathed so the Howdygram recommends stockpiling your favorites TODAY.

And finally, does anybody remember Mason Reese, that funny little kid back in the mid-1970s who did all those cute TV commercials for Dunkin’ Donuts, Raisin Bran and Underwood Deviled Ham? Here’s a photo of Mason today for your possible interest and amusement ... living proof that nobody should ever eat deviled ham under any circumstances.

It’s almost 1 a.m. and I still haven’t heard from Sam, so maybe I’ll mosey into the family room and watch last night’s episode of “Hardcore Pawn.” If you’ve never seen this program I highly recommend it. It’s about a Jewish family’s gigantic pawn shop in Detroit’s inner-city area, and the customers that come and go are a collection of loudmouths, lunatics and homicidal maniacs you really don’t want to miss. This is TV at its finest and even Sam is starting to enjoy it. My favorite part is when security has to throw out one of the aforementioned homicidal maniacs. (This happens a lot.)

My very best regards to your family. Thank you for reading this.

Behold ... “gefilte fish for goyim.”

I’m running on empty today and I can’t figure out why. I had more than enough sleep last night in addition to a two-hour nap that ended at 3 p.m. just in time to watch Sam leave for work. However, I need a little extra energy to tackle the mountain of laundry waiting for me so I’m thinking I should scrounge up something fun to eat, such as frosted cake and leftover egg foo young. (I have a really nice life.)

I have a question for you. What the hell is wrong with baloney? Baloney is basically a hotdog on steroids that’s mighty wonderful on white bread with two slices of American cheese. Sam completely disagrees, makes a face and says baloney is “gefilte fish for goyim.”

Please post a comment or send an email if you’re a baloney fan so I won’t get too despondent about this. Baloney is good. Nobody should hate on baloney.

Today’s pet peeve. Idiot clients who make me resend email attachments over and over and over because they can’t figure out how to retrieve them on a Blackberry. I just went five rounds with a bozo bridal consultant in South Carolina who kept writing back: “I didn’t get the attachment.” This is YOUR problem, Einstein, not MINE. Figure out how to use your stupid phone and stop wasting my time.

Today’s other pet peeve. Deadbeats. And I refer specifically to one client in particular who’s been making me crazy for THREE YEARS and can’t pay her bills under any circumstances whatsoever. Her credit card is rejected every time a quarterly web hosting payment is due and I wind up with another lie from her growing arsenal: 1) my purse was stolen; 2) a scam just wiped out my bank account; 3) my house is in foreclosure and I can’t pay you; 4) I’m out of the country and don’t have my bank password; 5) I need to feed my family first; and 6) I’ll have to get back to you on (pick one) Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, tomorrow, tonight or next week. She’s officially out of second chances. If she can’t cough up her quarterly hosting payment by the end of the day tomorrow I intend to shut down her website. To tell you the truth, I haven’t been this excited about anything since I discovered sugar-free halva on Amazon.com.

Incidentally, despite evidence to the contrary, I have NOT turned into a cranky old poop-head even though I just hung up on a telemarketer from the Mesquite Lions Club and wrote two rather intense paragraphs about pet peeves. I’m just an attractive and opinionated senior citizen with zero patience for morons, dimwits, jerks, frauds and Einsteins. Thank you for reading this, and I sincerely hope you’re having a wonderful day.