We’d love to water our lawn more often, except there isn’t any water.

In this post: Einstein Award, movie review, kvetch report.

Everybody’s a comedian. Enhanced Views Landscaping — the Einsteins who sprayed our yard for weeds yesterday morning when it was still dark outside — left their bill at the front door with succinct yet amusing lawn care instructions: “Water more often.”

More often? Seriously? ARE THEY DELUSIONAL? For the last three years we’ve been living in an exceptional drought with stage three water restrictions — just like everybody else in north Texas — which means we only get to water our lawn ONCE A WEEK, period. Where Howdygram headquarters is concerned, the city of Mesquite stipulates watering on Mondays before 10 a.m. ... and that’s all, folks. So “water more often” is like a sick joke. Trust me, we’d love to water more often, except there isn’t any water!

North Texas is sweatier than the Everglades today.

In this post: Hot & sticky, pain sucks, airport transportation.

And the weather at Howdygram headquarters is … HOT AND MUGGY. At 90° with 69% humidity, north Texas is sweatier than the Everglades today. All I can say is, thank God for air-conditioning, because I intend to hang out in my nice cool house eating homemade low-carb biscuits, assuming I can drag myself into the kitchen sometime this afternoon to actually make them.

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.

I tried to take a picture of my thumb lump but I can’t operate the camera with my crippled left hand.

In this post: Kvetch report, free food.

When you have arthritis like moi a forecast of rain is a forecast of PAIN. And right now I’ve got pain in spades. My joints are so stiff tonight I almost can’t move at all. A hot shower hasn’t helped and neither has vanilla soy milk with sugar-free sweet pickles — my number one favorite “go-to” snack when I’m feeling crabby or miserable. Even my hands hurt today. The fingers on my left hand all feel like they’re broken and I’ve got a huge lump on my right thumb that actually BURNS. I tried to take a picture of it for you but I can’t operate the camera with my crippled left hand. This sucks.

I love tasty gravy. I hate Congress.

I am unwell. Not sick, really, but unwell. I’ve got achy knees, a stiff right elbow, a drippy eye that’s not open all the way, a thumb lump, a smashed baby toe, chills and a body temperature of 95.4°. Put them all together and they spell C-R-A-P-P-Y. There’s not much I can do about it, though, aside from extra-strength Tylenol and whining at Sam when he’s around to listen. However, on the plus side ... I haven’t finished watching all my Clark Gable movies from yesterday and I just ordered a bunch of chia seeds and some juicy Kirkland roast beef in a can from Amazon.

Two important items of note:

1. This time I’m trying a different brand of chia seeds. They’re super cheap, they come in convenient jar with a FREE SCOOP, and you even get an extra half-pound of seeds just for fun. Yay, right? 
2. Kirkland (Costco’s store brand) is probably the best canned roast beef on the market if enjoy this kind of shit and it even comes with its own TASTY GRAVY. (I love tasty gravy.)

I’ve got another horror story from the annals of modern medicine. We found out yesterday that my adorable little mother-in-law is in the hospital, severely anemic and receiving blood transfusions due to an ulcer caused by SIDE EFFECTS FROM A PRESCRIPTION MEDICATION. These damn wonder drugs could kill you! Below is a nice photo taken a couple of months ago when Sam was in California. He’s going back for another visit in October and I already miss him.

Some breaking news from our Holy Crap, They’re At It Again department. In case you missed this, here’s the latest brainstorm being pushed by Einstein teabaggers in the House of Representatives: CUT FUNDING FOR OBAMACARE OR WE’LL SHUT DOWN THE UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT. Congress has until September 30 to pass a budget, and they think this is the best time to wage another fight — for the 41st time! — against a law that’s already helping millions of Americans, including plenty of Republicans, qualify for affordable health insurance coverage.

It’s up to Speaker John Boehner, pictured above with his signature orange spray tan, to decide if he’s going to let the useless dolts in Congress continue to play games with the federal budget. Here at the Howdygram, we’re fed up and ready to kick ass. Therefore … click the link below right now to sign a petition and LET JOHN BOEHNER KNOW THAT SHUTTING DOWN THE GOVERNMENT IS NOT A VALID ECONOMIC PLAN. Thank you.

Hey. Ever wondered what Wallace Beery would look like in drag? It’s your lucky day! Apparently Beery made a bunch of silent comedies in 1914 dressed up as a character called “Sweedie.” Feast your eyes.

Thank you for reading this.

My Sunday afternoon activities will be limited to sushi, lemonade and televised golf.

I woke up feeling not too bad this morning until I took my temperature and discovered it was 95.6°. Holy crap. To make sure somebody wasn’t delusional (i.e., me) Sam retrieved the other digital thermometer from the master bathroom, and yup, we got the same result. How can a person who’s not a cadaver have a body temperature that low? Medical science baffles me. Everything you read says I should be completely hypothermic if my temperature 95°, yet here I am, horsing around with the Howdygram and obviously still alive.

I’m also waiting for Sam to get home from Costco, where he’s loading up on tasty whatnots for the coming week, such as a big tub of fresh pineapple, “loaded” baked potato salad and sushi (for yours truly). If the price is right I’ll also ask him to bring home a gigantic package of ground chuck so I can make a nice meatloaf for dinner. He’s supposed to call when he gets to the meat department. I’m thinking that should be almost any minute.

This afternoon I’m hoping to watch Tiger Woods win the Bridgestone Invitational. He’s had quite an impressive weekend of golf — tying his lowest-ever round of 61 on Friday — and his score is currently 15 under par. GO TIGER!

Looks like it’s finally summer in north Texas. We had very reasonable and unexpectedly pleasant weather in May, June and July with occasional rain, no temperatures higher than the mid-90s and many weeks only in the 80s. August, of course, is kicking off with a bang, as evidenced by this forecast (see below) from Weather.com. Yes, people, it’s dry as the Sahara and DAMN HOT around here now, and that’s why my Sunday afternoon activities will be limited to sushi, a couple quarts of lemonade and televised golf. Is this a great life, or what?

Many thanks for stopping by today. Next time you should think about bringing a coffee cake or a few pieces of fruit.

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.

Great Britain, where 14th century Halloween costumes are a way of life.

Sometimes it’s hard to write a Howdygram post. Like today, for instance. I’m not feeling funny or creative and I’m more than a little under the weather — i.e., my right knee hurts, I’ve got chills and I think I’m developing a bladder infection. That being said, however, I do have some newsworthy crap to discuss with you, which I’ll tackle in three parts.

NEWSWORTHY CRAP, PART ONE. First up, an overdressed volunteer loudmouth showed up in front of St. Mary’s Hospital in London a couple of days ago to announce the royal birth at the top of his lungs. Tony Appleton, a town crier from the village of Romford, apparently was photographed and interviewed by American journalists who figured he was an official representative from Buckingham Palace. Although I’m sure the Brits are having a good laugh about this, it’s an easy mistake to make in a country where 14th century Halloween costumes are a way of life. I’m just saying.

NEWSWORTHY CRAP, PART TWO. Last month Sheriff Joe Arpaio, law enforcement’s racist right-wing poster boy from the great state of Arizona, sent a deputy to New York to track down a homicidal maniac named David Lee Simpson, who came to Arpaio’s attention during the Jody Arias trial for tweeting that he wanted to tie CNN’s Nancy Grace to a tree and slit her throat. Frankly, I’m not sure why there was a problem with this since most of America would probably get behind Simpson’s plan.

Simpson was eventually apprehended, however, and a search of his car turned up at least two guns as well as “ammunition, handcuffs, zip-ties, binoculars, a knife and a police radio.” This may be the first time Joe Arpaio has ever been featured in an article and not been the worst person in it.

NEWSWORTHY CRAP, PART THREE. In case you’re wondering what George Zimmerman’s been doing since getting away with the murder of Trayvon Martin, he’s still lurking at intersections in his beloved community of Sanford, Florida, and still trying to play super-hero. This time Zimmerman and another man pulled Mark and Dana Gerstle and their two children unharmed out of their blue SUV following an accident near the spot where Zimmerman shot and killed Martin. Mark O’Mara, Zimmerman’s lawyer, immediately decided to host a big press conference to congratulate “the quintessential George” but was forced to call it off after the Gerstles backed out. “The family does not want to be associated with George,” O’Mara told reporters, and after thanking Zimmerman for his help the Gerstles declined to make any public statement. I love this story a lot, people. A photo of creepy George and his creepy lawyer appear below. They should go split a large pizza or something.

It’s a few minutes past 6 and I’m contemplating dinner. Although there are are a million tasty possibilities, at the moment I think I’m leaning towards my favorite low-carb CarbQuik biscuits, a couple of nice scrambled eggs and a glass of chocolate Soy Slender soy milk.

If I feel better after dinner — go back and check out the first paragraph, plus I just discovered I’m running a fever — I’ll try to finish the last two loads of laundry, but I’m not promising anything. Right now all I want is food and a blanket. Thank you.

North Korea, the entertainment capital of the world.

For your Friday afternoon enjoyment here’s the Howdygram’s pick for music video of the month: 감자자랑 “Potato Pride,” an inspirational song about spuds from Pyongyang, North Korea, the entertainment capital of the world.  

Why potatoes? Because practically everybody in North Korea is starving to death and most are limited to a ration of one potato a day, a sacrifice that apparently excludes their expanding tyrant Kim Jong Un, pictured above, with his million-dollar yacht and team of French chefs. But for sure let’s sing about North Korea’s potatoes! We’re all so lucky to have our potatoes! Jump right in if you know the words, okay?

Here, for your possible interest, is a photo of our lovely new Lafayette Torchiere floor lamp that came a few days ago from Kirklands.com. To tell you the truth, photos don’t do it justice. It’s on sale for $79.98 but I think it’s every bit as beautiful as any $400 lamp you’ll find at Macy’s or a high-end furniture store. The glass dome is almost two feet in diameter and the on/off switch is operated by a push-button on the floor. I like to use my cane but everybody else can use a big toe.

Our only complaint was the crappy packaging. Kirklands is notorious for using the cheapest styrofoam on earth, and this was no exception. I was in the shower when Sam started unpacking the carton and I could hear him shrieking expletives from three rooms away. We wound up with styrofoam crumbs on EVERYTHING. I guess that’s why God invented vacuum cleaners.

Show of hands. Have any of you ever tried acupuncture? Sam mentioned it yesterday and thinks it might be a possible solution for all the chronic crap that’s affecting my mobility and overall quality of life, such as peripheral neuropathy, plantar fasciitis, carpal tunnel syndrome and arthritis. As a diabetic I’m not too thrilled at the prospect of additional needles, but if acupuncture can alleviate some of this pain I’d be an awfully happy camper. I’ll call Blue Cross on Monday to find out if they cover treatments or not. Stay tuned.

I’ve got a low blood sugar thing going on right now so I’d better start rummaging around for some quick food. Thank you for reading this.

World-class whining. Deal with it.

Know what? It occurs to me that I haven’t indulged in any world-class whining for quite a spell, and I might be overdue. So get comfortable.

The crap du jour is severe joint pain. The key word here is “severe,” because I’m arthritic and experience joint pain to some degree practically all the time, especially in my knees. Unfortunately, I’m convinced now that the culprit is CHIA SEEDS, because the same damn thing happens whenever I start consuming more than a quarter-cup a day on consecutive days. I was under the impression, from reading everything available on the Internet, that one of chia seeds’ many health benefits is their effect as an anti-inflammatory ... except MY reaction is the exact opposite! (Welcome to my world.)

So ... even though I was convinced that chias seeds were my new best friends, I guess I’ll have to cut back to that quarter-cup maximum and probably limit myself to three times a week. The alternative is really too painful to think about. My knees are so awful today that I don’t even want to stand up, and my hands feel like crap, too. Plus my right elbow. And don’t forget ... I’m still walking like the Hunchback of Notre Dame from a plantar fasciitis flare-up in my right heel. This alone would be enough to terrify an entire neighborhood, so I’ll just stay inside with “People’s Court” and pickles & biscuits.

End of whining. Gracias and smooches for putting up with me.

In other news, we’ve got a handyman horsing around in the master bedroom replacing our cracked bay window, Sam is barely conscious after getting home from work this morning at 6 a.m. (holy crap) and I think I might shlep my bones into the kitchen to bake a loaf of low-carb bread so I’ll have something wonderful to eat today. Thanks for stopping by and don’t forget to floss, okay?

I’ve got a jam-packed agenda that includes making and eating a nice pot of Five-Minute Stupid Soup.

Ever wake up in the morning feeling like total crap? You know, with VERY LOW BLOOD SUGAR and A POUNDING HEADACHE and CHILLS and a GREAT BIG BRUISE ON THE SIDE OF YOUR HAND from accidentally slamming it into a pipe under the kitchen sink on Thursday night when you tried to grab your stupid bucket of Cascade pod whatnots? Well this all describes me about five hours ago, after which I ate some leftovers, took a couple of extra-strength Tylenol knockoffs from Wal-Mart and went straight back to bed. Truth be told, I’m still feeling crappy. For your possible interest a full-color portrait of the aforementioned Cascade pod whatnots appears below. (These things are actually really cool and they’re probably worth an occasional bruise.)

I’ve got a jam-packed agenda today, people, because there’s lots to do at Howdygram headquarters! My projects include: 1) emptying the dishwasher; 2) refilling the hand soap dispenser in the guest bathroom; 3) making a nice pot of Five-Minute Stupid Soup; 4) eating item three; and 5) watching several consecutive Esther Williams movies that have been recording since last night on TCM. These are Thrill of a Romance (1945) with Van Johnson, Neptune’s Daughter (1949) with Ricardo Montalban and Red Skelton (no kidding), Dangerous When Wet (1953) with Fernando Lamas and Jack Carson, Million Dollar Mermaid (1952) with Walter Pidgeon and Victor Mature and This Time for Keeps (1947) with Jimmy Durante. I love Esther Williams movies.

Just in case there may be two or three of you who’ve never seen Preston Sturges’ masterpiece The Palm Beach Story (1941), you’re in for a treat because it’s showing on TCM tomorrow night at 7 p.m. Central time. The Palm Beach Story is the mother of all screwball romantic comedies, played to perfection by Claudette Colbert in the most gorgeous clothes you’ve ever seen, Joel McCrea, Rudy Vallee, Mary Astor (maybe the best performance of her career) and a supporting cast of scene-stealers that include the Ale and Quail Club, The Weenie King (my personal favorite) and Mary Astor’s boy-toy “Toto.”

My two favorite quotes from the film:

“Cold are the hands of time that creep along relentlessly, destroying slowly but without pity that which yesterday was young. Alone our memories resist this disintegration and grow more lovely with the passing years. Heh. That’s hard to say with false teeth.” The Weenie King

“That’s one of the tragedies of this life, that the men who are most in need of a beating up are always enormous.” John D. Hackensacker III

Hot damn. It’s lunch time.

Wednesday’s highlights include commotion, fake meat in a can and Nazi tea kettles.

There’s been a lot of commotion at Howdygram headquarters today, and I don’t like commotion. Frankly, I think I’m ALLERGIC to it. At the moment I feel agitated, crabby, annoyed and desperately in need of an afternoon nap, which won’t happen any time soon for the following reasons:

• Our handyman is still out back installing those solar screens which, after two full days, is obviously becoming his life’s work.
• The Schwan’s delivery doofus showed up to present us with another load of assorted frozen crapola, including the biggest frozen summer sausage I’ve ever seen. I have no doubt it could kill a person.
• Our landscapers were here to mow, whack, edge and trim all the green things that surround our home.
• The mailman pounded on the front door to drop off two packages from Amazon.
• The phone hasn’t stopped ringing. So far I’ve heard from Sam’s ophthalmologist and my podiatrist, do I want to donate old clothes to the National Kidney Foundation, can I spare 10 minutes to take a poll about my views on immigration, and glorioski ... we’ve just won a FREE ESTIMATE from Metroplex Insulated Windows!
• I’m running the dishwasher.

To cheer myself up I’ve decided to share the following videos. The first one is a comedy sketch about how to respond to a moron who doesn’t think he’s racist and the second one is just really cute, period.

Show of hands. Has anybody seen the story in the news today about J.C. Penney’s latest headache? Evidently they’re advertising a tea kettle that looks like Adolf Hitler with a stiff-arm salute. A freeway billboard in Los Angeles is creating a huge hoo-hah and Penney’s is getting lots of crap for it, starting with a snide tweet this morning from (of all people) Mia Farrow about why would anybody sell a Nazi kitchen appliance. Seriously, don’t these Einsteins have anything better to do?

It looks like we’ve got some major storms on the way. Our local forecast on Weather.com just changed to RED TYPE — twisters! Auntie Em! — with an 85% chance of severe thunderstorms and heavy rainfall starting by 7 p.m. (Oh swell. More commotion.) In the meantime I think I’ll fix myself an early dinner and watch a few “Hardcore Pawn” reruns. Tonight’s menu options are: 1) pickles & biscuits; 2) gefilte fish with no horseradish because I ran out; 3) egg salad; 4) a BLT minus the “L”; and 5) Loma Linda fake meat in a can poured over low-carb white bread with Chia Seed Pudding for dessert.

If you’d like to cast your vote for one of my five dinner options please send an email immediately because I’m awfully damn hungry right now. Thank you.

Charles Ramsey has a bright future in television.

Can you stand a little pre-dawn whining from Howdygram headquarters? I’ve got that stupid body temperature crap going on again, except this time I’m actually running a fever. It’s 100°, which technically feel more like 102° to a person like moi whose normal temperature is two degrees lower than everybody else’s. Other symptoms at the present time include: 1) body aches and joint pain; 2) a bright red heat rash all over my stomach; 3) sneezing; 4) chills; and 5) a desperate craving for lemon Jello, a coloring book and a box of crayons. In lieu of that I’ll also accept orange sherbet and a set of jacks. This happens every time I don’t feel so good. I morph into seven-year-old Marcy, sick in bed and waiting for dad to come home from work with a bunch of presents.

I just took a couple of Extra-Strength Tylenol. As soon as my body aches subside a little I’m heading straight back to bed because Sam looks mighty damn happy in there and I miss him. In the meantime you can send get-well emails here. (The previously-mentioned stupid body temperature crap is a form a diabetic neuropathy, in case you’re interested.)

After months and months of disgusting current events it’s really swell to finally see some GOOD news for a change. I refer specifically to those three young women — Amanda Berry, Gina DeJesus and Michelle Knight, missing for 10 years! — who were rescued yesterday from a house in Cleveland and their kidnappers (three brothers) arrested by police. The greatest part of the story, though, has to be this hilarious interview with the next-door neighbor (Charles Ramsey) who helped them escape. Trust me, this dude has a bright future in television.

I have to go back to bed now. Here’s hoping y’all have a happy day filled with cute kittens, hot biscuits and time to watch “People’s Court.”

Thank you for reading this.

Mexican Velveeta is the official cheese product of Club Meds.

It’s a lovely, sunny Friday here in Texas — 65° with a stiff breeze from the northwest — and as I write this post I’m trying to avoid working on edits to a client’s website for the following three reasons: 1) I don’t want to; 2) I’m hungry; and 3) I’d rather being doing this. I wish somebody would please send an email and tell me to retire already. Thank you.

I’m having another hypothermia battle today. At the moment I’m hot as hell, but when I went to bed at 1 a.m. last night my temperature was 95.4° with severe muscle and joint pain, and the cycle repeats every five or six hours. I was unconscious on the chaise in the family room when Sam left for work this afternoon and don’t remember even saying goodbye to him. Thank God FedEx is delivering my Mexican Velveeta today! There’s always something to look forward to, isn’t there?

In case you don’t know what’s going on with this “hypothermia” crapola, it’s one of the many exciting side effects of diabetes — a form of autonomic neuropathy — that results in an unregulated body temperature. My personal best was a low of 95.2° a couple of weeks ago, which technically felt like a fever of 103° except my skin was cold as a mackerel. I feel sorry for Sam watching this idiotic baloney all the time.

As long as I’m whining about medical issues I suppose I should go ahead and include the latest news from Club Meds! A couple of days ago I tried to refill my 90-day prescription for Trazodone — an antidepressant that I take as a sleep aid — and the pharmacist said the 50mg tablets I’ve been taking since last summer have been discontinued. They sold Sam a bottle of 100mg tablets instead and told me to cut them in half with Wal-Mart’s best-quality 88¢ handy-dandy pill cutter, which skillfully crushed the first four tablets into dust.

So I called Dr. M and asked if I can just take 100mg every night or does she want to prescribe something else. Turns out she thinks it’s okay if I try the higher dose even though the list of possible side effects still scares the living crap out of me. These include: 1) extreme mood swings; 2) pounding heartbeat; 3) fainting; 4) panic attacks; 5) blurred vision; 6) tremors; 7) memory problems; and 8) a painful erection that lasts six hours or longer. (I’m pretty sure I won’t have to worry about number 8.) Another possible side effect is a condition known as Palinopsia which, despite obvious indications to the contrary, has nothing whatsoever to do with hallucinations about right-wing moose-killers from Alaska. Palinopsia, in fact, is a brain disorder that causes an “after-image” visual disturbance. This actually makes sense. Palin = brain disorder.

From our Funniest Thing I’ve Read All Year department comes this story of a Twitter feud between Jon Stewart and the pompous comb-over king, Donald Trump. Trump thought he was throwing a nasty shot at Stewart by revealing the comedian’s real name — Jon Leibowitz! He’s Jewish! — prompting Stewart to shoot back with a joke about Trump’s actual birth name being “F**kface Von Clownstick.” Check out the whole article, a screenshot of their Twitter war and some hilarious reader comments here on Gawker.com.

Thank you for reading this. Have a really nice evening, okay?

More whining, more biscuits and more crapola.

So here’s what’s been happening today at Howdygram headquarters! Saturday night was seriously crappy with severely low blood sugar in the mid-40s, VERY low body temperature, chills and severe joint and muscle pain, which required sleeping, shivering and moaning on the chaise in the family room wrapped in a faux mink blanket. I’m surprised (and thankful) that I didn’t wake my spouse, who was comfortably unconscious in bed. I managed to perk up this morning, however, and talked Sam into an early lunch at Cafe Greek in Dallas followed by watching Adam Scott win the Masters at Augusta National on TV. The aforementioned chills and muscle pain came back this afternoon, however, and I’m not doing well at all as I write this post. I’m thinking I might need pickles and biscuits for dinner. Pickles and biscuits solve EVERYTHING.

For the record, these are low-carb biscuits, and I’ve got the easiest recipe on the face of the earth. I throw ⅔ cup of water and 2 cups of CarbQuik (a low-carb Bisquick knockoff) into my bread machine, process for about 90 seconds, and then drop six clumps of dough onto a nonstick cookie sheet, flatten the clumps with your fingers and bake for 15 minutes at 350°. (The biscuits, not your fingers.) That’s all there is to it. FRESH HOT BISCUITS! And they’re only TWO CARBS EACH, so a food-obsessed diabetic like yours truly can eat ALL SIX BISCUITS and not send her blood sugar into the stratosphere!

On TV tonight, for your possible interest, are the latest episode of AMC’s “Mad Men,” the season premiers of “Veep” on HBO and Anthony Bourdain’s new food and travel series on CNN, and a pair of extremely wonderful Walter Huston movies on TCM: Dodsworth (1936) and Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948).

This is so exciting I almost can’t stand it because Sam and I love Walter Huston movies. Thank you for reading this.

On a day like this whining is the only activity that interests me.

Every bone in my body hurts today. In addition to the arthritis in my knees, this time it’s also my elbows (oy, they’re killing me) and my hands, hips, ankles and lower back. I know what’s responsible. It has to be the hideously crappy weather system that blew through here overnight, dropping our temperature from 84° to 42° with plenty of wind and cold rain. I’ve been thoroughly miserable since I got up this morning. On a day like this whining is the only activity that interests me, and I’m so damn tired I can barely keep my eyes open.

Other than that, life at Howdygram headquarters isn’t bad at all for a Wednesday afternoon. My maid is cleaning the kitchen, I’ve got some fine movies on the DVR — such as New Morals for Old (1932) starring Robert Young, Myrna Loy and Lewis Stone — and if I feel motivated enough I’ll make scrambled eggs and low-carb biscuits for dinner. Nothing improves my mood quite like biscuits. Also Mongolian chicken.

Thank you for reading this.

Having a lousy evening? Stubby Kaye to the rescue!

I don’t think I need to say too much about why Kim Jong Un is the Howdygram’s latest Putz of the Week. Hell, this volatile little clown should actually be Putz of the YEAR, except I’m not feeling motivated enough to create a new graphic right now.

According to CNN.com, rhetoric from North Korea within the last hour warns “the moment of explosion is approaching fast.” Although I assume that Kim’s impoverished, hermit dictatorship may have something in its arsenal besides potatoes and snowballs, I’m inclined to believe that their escalating threats of thermo-nuclear war are just carefully-crafted horseshit designed to elicit food aid as soon as they back down.

Mazel tov, Kim. You’re a prize idiot. I also don’t like your hair and clothes.

And speaking of prize idiots, have you seen that video of disgraced Rutgers University basketball coach Mike Rice abusing his players? Rice was fired today, thank God. (No wonder everybody hates gym teachers.) Apparently the faculty is demanding termination for Rutgers’ president, Robert Barchi, who knew about Rice’s behavior months ago and simply suspended him for three games. The story unraveled when this video was shown on ESPN. Holy crap.

I’m having a generally lousy evening. I seem to be battling some kind of food poisoning, my head hurts from lack of sleep, my body temperature is way too low (95.4°) and I haven’t communicated yet with the client mentioned in my last post because I’m still too freaked out to deal with him. Worse yet, Sam won’t be home from work for at least five more hours and I miss him. A lot! I suppose the only solution is hot tea and Guys and Dolls (1955) starring Marlon Brando and Frank Sinatra and a bunch of terrific songs that get stuck in my head for weeks. As an example, here are Stubby Kaye and company singing “Sit Down You’re Rocking the Boat,” one of my favorites. And if you can stand a little personal trivia, the short dude in the dark blue suit and patterned tie to the left of Stubby Kaye is my mother’s cousin, Johnny Silver. No kidding!

Thank you for reading this. It’s movie time.

Welcome to my world.

Holy crap. My knees are absolutely KILLING me, people! I don’t know how I dragged myself out of bed this morning except my tub of arthritis-strength Tylenol was in another room so I didn’t have much choice. I went back to sleep for a couple of hours afterwards but still feel pretty lousy and I’m stiff as a board. This includes my knees, elbows, shoulders, fingers, but I think that’s all because my toes don’t hurt. (My toes are technically numb due to diabetic neuropathy, but that’s a topic for another whine list.)

All of this pain is clearly related to the fact that I’ve been under the weather for the last few days, which also might explain why I haven’t been motivated to write a Howdygram post since Saturday. My symptoms include a strangely hypothermic “un-fever” under 96° with chills and body aches, a floater in my right eye, a huge lump on the knuckle of my right thumb and a craving for a lot of cheese. You know it has to be serious when you get up in the middle of the night and order a two-pound brick of imitation Velveeta from Wal-Mart. I checked with WebMD.com but apparently the medical profession doesn’t give a crap about cheese, floaters and thumb lumps. Welcome to my world.

OMG, I just fell in love with Amazon.com all over again. I’m using “one-click ordering” now and it’s so fast it could give you a freaking nosebleed. You go straight from the product page to “thank you for your order” ... NO MORE SHOPPING CART! This means I can order mountains of crap even when Sam is in the room and he’ll have no clue what I’m doing! I just purchased four 45-oz. jars of Chunky Ragu for $18.09, which Sam enjoys with his favorite Schwan’s mozzarella sticks. This will provide enough Ragu to last through Thanksgiving.

And now for an essential product review! I’m pleased to introduce you to Carb Not Beanit Butter, a peanut butter knockoff made from roasted soybeans that’s so damn good you can eat it plain with a soup spoon. I received my first jar from Netrition.com a few days ago and I’ve been blown away. It tastes exactly like peanut butter except it has NO SUGAR, ZERO CARBS and FIVE GRAMS OF FIBER per serving! I’m a deliriously happy diabetic!

If my knees hold up I want to make a batch of Emergency Beanit Butter Cookies this afternoon and eat the entire tray for dinner with half a quart of vanilla Soy Slender, a couple of Slim Jims and a nice green vegetable. My cookie recipe follows in case you’re interested.

• 1 cup Beanit Butter
• 1⅓ cups granulated Splenda with fiber
• 1 egg
• 1 teaspoon vanilla

Preheat oven to 375°. Moosh everything together in a bowl until it comes together into a perfect soft ball. Pull off small chunks to roll into smaller balls. Flatten them in both directions with the tines of a fork dipped in Splenda and bake for 8 to 10 minutes.

God bless Beanit Butter and thank you for reading this.

I don’t want to look like a raccoon.

Yes, I know the campaign is over. Yes, I know I can finally stop wringing my hands about politics for at least another two years. But even so, it is with great pleasure that I’d like to present the following photograph of former GOP presidential candidate Mitt Romney, dressed in casual attire for weekend fun with Ann and the 1%.

From our What Happened To The Help department, here’s a photo of Mitt and Ann taken on Thanksgiving, clammy and clingy in the kitchen of one of their homes, pretending to cook a meal. FYI, I don’t like their cabinets and there’s too much crap on the counter behind them. I’m just saying.

It’s 4:15 Monday morning. You know you’re in big trouble when you wake up at this hour with SEVERE KNEE PAIN, because I always assumed that lying down should feel better than walking. But wait ... there’s more! I also have a stinging pain in my right hand, which has been frozen in the form of a claw since the day before Thanksgiving. I can’t close a fist and I can’t straighten out my fingers. (It feels like I caught a baseball bare-handed and broke all my bones.) For what it’s worth, the knee pain thing is arthritis and the crumpled hand thing is diabetic neuropathy. Nothing makes me feel better except Chinese food and Wal-Mart’s excellent store-brand arthritis strength Tylenol knockoff. The kind with the yellow label.

I got bored halfway into the New York Giants/Green Bay Packers game last night and decided to switch to some real entertainment: “Liz & Dick” on Lifetime starring Lindsay Lohan, that hyped-up biopic about Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. In a word, I thought everything about this low-budget made-for-TV movie — the script, the dialog, the sets, the performances — were ABSOLUTELY CHEESY (okay, fine, that’s two words) and Lohan didn’t look, act or sound like Elizabeth Taylor in any way whatsoever. Even her makeup sucked. Other than that, however, the movie wasn’t bad at all.

So here’s what’s happening on Monday at Howdygram headquarters: 1) Sam is getting a haircut at 9 a.m.; 2) I want homemade tacos for lunch; and 3) I’m expecting a nice UPS delivery from Netrition.com. To brace myself for the excitement I’d better go back to bed for a while because it’s nearly 6 a.m. and I’ve only had three hours of sleep. If I’m not careful I’ll look like a raccoon.

Thank you for reading this.

Bad news. Howdygram headquarters has run out of Thanksgiving leftovers.

It wasn’t really my plan to not write a Howdygram post on Saturday. I wanted to. Seriously, I did. But Saturday turned out to be “creaky” for me, arthritically-speaking, and apparently I wasted far too much time whining, taking pain medication and not moving around whenever the opportunity presented itself. It’s only six minutes past midnight and I’m already hoping today will be better. Thank you for hoping with me.

By now I’m sure everybody knows that J.R. Ewing died again. This time, though, it was actually Larry Hagman, 81, who passed away on Friday here in Texas while filming season two of the resurrected “Dallas.” Hagman is shown below posing in front of Southfork Ranch, which is actually a semi-cheesy event center now for weddings and bar mitzvahs.

I was a huge fan of the original “Dallas” series (1978 to 1991) and got hooked on the reboot when it debuted this past June. Sam doesn’t quite get it, but I think there’s something gratifying about watching miserable, dysfunctional rich people betray their best friends, cheat their business partners and destroy their relatives. It makes me feel so much better about my stiff knees.

As far as I can tell Sam and I have no plans for Sunday whatsoever, although there are a couple of good NFL games we can watch, I’ve got Ben-Hur on the DVR and I’m considering a nice pot of chicken barley soup. Visitors are welcome if you’d like to join us. Please send an email at your earliest convenience to reserve space on the sofa.

Bad news. Howdygram headquarters has run out of Thanksgiving leftovers. Sam finished the last of it Friday night after work, and I’m so depressed I might have to order another boneless turkey roast from Boston Market. In case you’ve never had one, this thing is FABULOUS. You get a three-pound chunk of solid white meat in its own roasting bag and pan that you pop into a 350° oven for 90 minutes. EVERY DAY OF THE WEEK CAN BE THANKSGIVING!

I think I should wake Sam so we can go to bed. He’s been unconscious in the family room since 8:30 last night and just slept through The Horse Whisperer (three hours) starring Robert Redford. Sam sleeps through the some of the finest movies ever made.

Thank you for stopping by.