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.

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!

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.)

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.”

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.

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 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.

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.

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.”  

I want to hide in the family room with Myrna Loy movies and braunschweiger for the rest of my life.

In this post: Old Pencil Neck.

My final Howdygram post for the month of April will focus on three distinct and important topics: 1) another Putz of the Week; 2) I’m running the dishwasher; and 3) I can’t think of anything else. The first item appears below; items 2 and 3 should be self-explanatory. Thank you.

The secret to a happy marriage is lunch meat.

In this post: Lunch meat, intolerance.

Sometimes life is fraught with disappointment. Last night while I was waiting for Sam to get home from work I desperately wanted a BLT except I didn’t have any L or T so I just ate B on low-carb toast with mayo.

Which brings me to my next point: THE SECRET TO A HAPPY MARRIAGE IS LUNCH MEAT. This morning Sam went shopping at Wal-Mart and brought home two packages of Oscar Mayer Pickle & Pimiento loaf just for me. This is a man who knows how to touch my heart, and it usually involves cheap processed meat.

Stupid crap from the mouths of Republicans.

In this post: Stupid crap from Republicans, easy egg salad, good movies.

I’ll begin my post tonight with more of the Howdygram’s intensely popular progressive political commentary. This time: STUPID CRAP FROM THE MOUTHS OF REPUBLICANS. Trust me, there’s enough material to fill a 24-volume encyclopedia but I’ve narrowed it down to a few of my favorites. Thank you, and here we go.

Vote for this douchebag or he’ll maybe shoot his cannon at the White House.

In this post: Artisans, douchebags on parade.

It’s a pleasant but slightly clammy Friday afternoon here in north Texas as I wait for my first-ever grocery delivery from the grocery delivery people at Artizone.com. In case you missed my post from a week ago, Artizone is like a fancy farmers market with home delivery and I discovered them online by accident. A happy accident. My first order will be here between 6 and 8 p.m. and includes a pound of hard salami, a pound of baloney with sliced-up olives in it, two pounds of mixed bean salad in cilantro dressing and a bag of Brussels sprouts. I’m hungry and I’m hyperventilating! Pictured below for your possible interest are a few of Artizone’s assorted artisans, all located here in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. (I’d be willing to bet money that Big Al owns a pickup and a shotgun.)

Happy Earth Day. We’re killing ourselves.

In this post: Earth Day, a contemptible Putz.

I’ll begin this morning with a big fat HAPPY EARTH DAY to Howdygram readers all over the planet. Even though I’ve never been a rabid “tree-hugger,” during the last few years it’s become perilously apparent that we’re killing ourselves with poisoned oceans, lousy air, melting polar ice, rising sea levels and extreme climate change. I’m actually relieved to be 62 years old because I know I won’t be around when we run out of fresh water and oxygen.

A new level of Tea Party horseshit, courtesy of South Carolina.

In this post: What a putz.

It’s really late and Sam will be home from work soon but I wanted to dash off another quick Howdygram post for a couple of excellent reasons: 1) I promised to; and 2) I’ve got a damn good Putz of the Week to share with you!

Anti-feminist Phyllis Schlafly says men won’t marry well-paid women.

In this post: Sleep, an anti-feminist fossil, Aaron Sorkin.

So far this has been a really strange day. Sam and I woke up shortly after 7 a.m. about 15 minutes apart, and by 9:15 we were both sound asleep in the family room watching an entertaining mystery called Murder on a Bridle Path (1936) starring Helen Broderick and James Gleason. When I finally woke up at 12:30 Sam had switched to Around the World in Eighty Days (1956) starring David Niven. These are both excellent napping movies and we highly recommend them.

Another dose of twisted right-wing crap.

In this post: Warped Einsteins, right-wing fetus worship.

I wrote so many posts yesterday — FOUR! — that I didn’t really think I’d have much to say today, but you know what? I was wrong! So here I am, fingers on the keyboard, all limbered-up and ready to go, ready to write another round of truly screwy horseshit. Thank you for showing up today. Before I forget, however ... I’m cold, I’m hungry and my knees hurt, and I might have to duck out for a few minutes to eat dinner because it’s already 6:30.