Never give a Jewish dwarf exercise equipment for Hanukkah.

Everything in the news is pretty disgusting these days. We’ve got hysteria in the Middle East, royal titties on magazine covers across the globe, Twinkies going bankrupt and fringe nutjobs like Paul Ryan calling President Obama “an extremist.” That being said, the only articles I allowed myself to read online this morning were Dear Abby and a photo retrospective of Florence Henderson’s hairstyles from “The Brady Bunch.”

L’shana tovah, everybody! Sam and I ushered in the first night of Rosh Hashanah with a pot of Jewish chili and two crappy films: 1) Along Came a Spider (1970) starring Suzanne Pleshette and a lot of orange furniture; and 2) The Wasp Woman (1959) directed by shlockmeister Roger Corman and featuring Susan Cabot plus a lot of other people nobody ever heard of.

Please allow me to swing off on a screwball tangent for a minute to discuss the aforementioned Susan Cabot, whose actual life and death were stranger than anything Roger Corman dished out in his drecky horror movies. Apparently Cabot’s son was a dwarf named Timothy Scott Roman who, following years of emotional abuse, bludgeoned mom to death with a barbell in 1986 while she slept. At trial the court found him mostly nuts due to taking an experimental growth hormone for 15 years that didn’t work, and teeny Tim wound up with three years of probation and a cash fine more appropriate for a speeding violation. In addition — here’s the best part — Cabot apparently had a torrid love affair with King Hussein of Jordan in 1959 that ended when he found out she was actually Jewish. Cabot’s real name was HARRIET SHAPIRO. Holy crap.

I can hear Sam slamming cabinets in the kitchen so I think I’ll go join the fun. Thank you for reading this.

Our new favorite restaurant features forks, happy servers and perfect brown rice.

While Sam is half-asleep in the family room watching Alfred Hitchcock’s Strangers on a Train I thought I’d do a little Howdygrammin’ and review a terrific restaurant at the same time. Sam and I had an early dinner tonight at Thai Star, an adorable little spot in Addison (far north Dallas) with the most incredible Thai cuisine EVER. We got there a few minutes before the doors opened at 5 and customers were already standing around outside waiting to get in. Now I know why.

I ordered a chef’s special called Kapow Tilapia served on a plate shaped like a great big fish; Sam had Thai Sweet & Sour Chicken on a normal plate not shaped like a fish. You get to choose your level of “heat” on a scale of 1 to 5 — I’m a 4 and Sam’s a 3, in case you’re interested — and everything includes a fork, a happy server and a perfect mound of brown rice. I’d also like to mention that the décor is awfully damn cute, too, like eating inside a little grass hut. We’re definitely planning to go back. This would be an excellent place to take houseguests except we never have any. (Incidentally, that’s a hint.)

Holy crap, I need some dessert bad. Thanks for stopping by.

I wonder if I can boost my Google ranking by typing “royal titties” in really big letters.

We didn’t make it to the Choctaw Casino today after all. I’m not noticeably hysterical and/or despondent since Sam promised we’d get there next weekend instead and — glorioski! let’s eat! — we’re going out for an early dinner around 4:30. At this point we still have no clear idea where that will be, however, and high-level negotiations are currently in progress. So far the other side (i.e., Sam) has expressed zero interest in buffets or anything that’s located downtown. I’m leaning towards Thai food in Addison. Stay tuned for additional developments. In the meantime, you have approximately one hour to email your suggestions. Thank you.

Last night’s Howdygram post — titled “A pair of very royal titties in the news” — is apparently making a big fat splash in cyberspace. So far we’re receiving top-tier results on Google for the search phrase “royal titties,” attracting a huge list of new visitors from Great Britain, New Zealand, the Netherlands, India, Guam, Germany, various cities in Canada and locations throughout the United States. I wonder if I can boost my Google ranking by typing “royal titties” in really big letters. Let’s give it a shot, shall we?

royal titties

Thank you for reading this. Tell your friends, okay?

The Great Twinkie Bailout of 2012.

I woke up two hours ago with a song in my head, a screwy yet catchy thing called “Oh What a Horse Was Charlie” from the movie Going Places (1938) starring Dick Powell, Louis Armstrong and a horse. Ronald Reagan had a non-singing bit part that included two (too many) lines of dialog.

The plot is actually really stupid and really funny at the same time. Powell is a sporting goods salesman who attends a snooty steeplechase event pretending to be an Australian jockey (seriously) and gets conned into riding a wild horse named Jeepers Creepers in the big race. Poor Louis Armstrong — already a huge international star at this point — is badly cast as a stable boy who serenades the horse, obviously the studio’s attempt to introduce Johnny Mercer’s big hit song (“Jeepers Creepers”) and humiliate Armstrong at the same time. Here, for your possible amusement, is a video clip in case you think I’m making this up.


Before I forget ... happy new year from your pals at the Howdygram! I always make an effort to keep track of the basics even though Sam and I are not religious or observant except for matzo balls. For instance, I know that Rosh Hashanah begins tomorrow at sundown (mazel tov) and Yom Kippur is September 25 and 26.

Breaking news from the world of cheap and tasteless snacks! Apparently Hostess Brands, teetering on the edge of demise, has asked a bankruptcy judge to force the baker’s union to accept a revised contract with substantial cuts in pay and health benefits so Twinkies and Ding-Dongs can live a long and happy life at the expense of 18,500 employees.

Personally, I never cared much for Twinkies. Even as a kid I thought they tasted like polyester. My favorite was always Hostess SnoBalls, but that was half a century ago before the marshmallow chewed like rubber and nobody dyed the damn things pink. Maybe somebody should put this company out of its misery already.

I think I’ll go back to bed for a while and annoy Sam. Thank you for reading this!

A pair of very royal titties in the news.

Yo, everybody! It’s been a dark and dismal non-rainy day here in Howdygramland. I’ve managed to fill my time with a lot of nothing and didn’t even get an afternoon nap. So far my only productive activities have included watching “People’s Court” and half a Dick Powell movie, baking low-carb banana bread and taking pills. It’s a full life.

Because we always have such a good time doing goofy crap together, there’s a very strong possibility that Sam and I might be heading back to Oklahoma tomorrow for lunch at the Choctaw Casino (with sugar-free pie!) and another stab at the penny slots. This is thrilling on a number of different levels, such as: 1) it’s an older crowd and practically everybody has a cane except Sam; 2) we get 50% off the lunch buffet with our Player’s Club cards; and 3) they have Coke Zero in their free soda machines. Now I ask you, does it ever get better than that?

From our Holy Crap, Not Again department, just three weeks after Prince Harry scandalized the world by partying naked in Las Vegas with intoxicated people he didn’t know, a pair of very royal titties are making news today, splashed across the front page of the French gossip magazine “Closer.” Buckingham Palace confirms that the Duchess of Cambridge was photographed topless on a private patio at a private rented residence in France by a jerk on a highway with a telephoto lens. The royal family intends to sue.

Just a thought, but it might be a really good idea for younger members of the royal family to discontinue all manner of naked frolicking unless they’re AT HOME IN A LOCKED ROOM. I’ve lived almost 61 years and relatively few people have ever seen (or wanted to see) my titties. I’m just saying.

Thank you for reading this.

We’re still mopping up the mess from the last “entitled frat boy” who occupied the White House.

Sam is working late so I’ve decided to horse around with the Howdygram to kill a little time. Mostly I want to rant about Mitt Romney because I seriously can’t stand him and it feels great to show my claws once in a while. Below for your possible interest are a couple of great photos and several now-famous Romney quotes. The point is, people, we’re still mopping up the mess from the last “entitled frat boy” who occupied the White House (remember George W.?) and can’t afford to make the same mistake again. Obama 2012!

“Don’t try to stop the foreclosure process. Let it run its course and hit bottom.”
Trying to defend banks kicking people out of their homes.

“We have a lot in common. I should tell my story. I’m also unemployed.”

Speaking to unemployed people in Florida. Romney’s net worth is more than $200 million. 

“He [Obama] says we need more firemen, more policemen, more teachers. Did he not get the message of Wisconsin? The American people did. It’s time for us to cut back on government and help the American people.”

At an Iowa campaign event in June 2012.

“I saw the young man over there with eggs Benedict, with hollandaise sauce. And I was going to suggest to you that you serve your eggs with hollandaise sauce in hubcaps. Because there’s no plates like chrome for the hollandaise.”

Posing for a photo with the owner of a New Hampshire restaurant.

“I believe in an America where millions of Americans believe in an America that’s the America millions of Americans believe in. That’s the America I love.”

“We buy American. [My wife] drives a couple of Cadillacs.”

Campaigning in Michigan, February 2012.

It’s almost 1 a.m. and Sam just called to tell me he’s finally on the way home, which means it’s time to sign off and end my Howdygrammin’ for tonight. You’re welcome to hang around for a while if you want but turn off the light when you’re done. Thank you for reading this.

It doesn’t take much to make me happy. Just ask Sam.

I completely forgot to include a product review in my last post. It’s for Schwan’s Garden Vegetable Omelets that come six in a box, and I tried one for the first time this morning. I really wasn’t expecting to like frozen eggs but these were EXCEPTIONALLY GOOD. You just nuke the silly little thing for 2½ minutes and blammo, you get an instant no-carb breakfast filled with crunchy veggies and cheddar cheese! My only complaint? They’re not big enough! So I hunted around online and just discovered that Jimmy Dean makes frozen breakfast omelets that weigh twice as much as Schwan’s, so I’ll probably ask Sam to check them out next time he’s prancing through Tom Thumb. (Just kidding. Sam hasn’t pranced for decades.)

Remember those bad-ass thunderstorms we were supposed to get by 6 p.m.? As expected, the lying sacks of poo at Weather.com didn’t exactly nail their forecast. After wasting everybody’s time all day changing the cold front’s arrival time from 6 p.m. to 7 p.m. to 8 p.m. to 9 p.m., now they’re predicting that we won’t actually get any rain until midnight. Yeah, right. Fat chance. I should give up on these peabrains altogether.

As a consolation prize I think I’ll order Mongolia chicken from China City and watch tonight’s episode of “Project Runway.” It doesn’t take much to make me happy. Just ask Sam.

Holy crap. I love flat-rate shipping!

Oy, what a deal! I just discovered a cheapo new source for my favorite DaVinci sugar-free beverage syrups. I used to buy directly from DaVinci’s website at $7.99 each until I found them for $4.95 at Lollicup.com, which would have been really swell if Lollicup’s insane shipping charges didn’t eat up the savings. Perseverance definitely pays off, though, because today I found out that Netrition.com, my favorite diabetic low-carb mecca, carries the entire line of DaVinci syrups (dozens of flavors!) for $4.95 FLAT-RATE SHIPPING. Glorioski! So I ordered ten bottles — lime, raspberry, watermelon, vanilla, two banana, two blueberry, two peach — plus a squeezy thing of reduced sugar Heinz ketchup and a big fat jar of Smokin’ Joe Jones no-sugar-added “Taste of Mississippi” barbecue sauce. That’s a lot of tonnage to ship for $4.95. Yee haw!

In other news, the lying sacks of poo at Weather.com are forecasting three days of substantial rain here in the Dallas metro area, starting around 6 p.m. tonight with a cold front and several hours of thunderstorms. I’ll believe it when I see it, of course, but in the meantime it’s a pleasant little fantasy. We need the water.

Thought y’all might enjoy the following photos borrowed from Friends of Irony. Be sure to check out their website for more fun crap like this.

An afternoon nap and a Margaret Rutherford movie would be really awesome right about now. Thanks for stopping by. Seriously.

Does Taco Bell take credit cards?

When all else fails, eat. That’s been my life’s ambition since age two, when I first figured out I could consume a meal with mom and dad and toddle downstairs afterwards to my grandparents’ apartment for a second helping of everything. I’m told nobody got wise to me for a number of years, but by then I was just another short little addict desperate for a fix. Nothing’s really changed.

Since waking from my nap a couple of hours ago I’ve been trying to avoid a wide range of disturbing current events — exploding embassies, Mitt Romney’s face, the birth of Levi Johnston’s latest spawn — and the answer, as always, is I NEED TO EAT SOMETHING. Therefore I’ve decided I’ll either make a big pot of Bear Creek hot & sour soup or drive to Taco Bell for a bag of cheap burritos. Maybe both. Does Taco Bell take credit cards?

Pictured above, left to right, are Taco Bell’s Crispy Potato Soft Taco — holy crap! are those TATER TOTS? — with melty pepper jack sauce and the Bacon Cheddar Gordita Crunch with mushy meat and a substance that looks like Thousand Island creeping out under the lettuce. I’m so excited I can hardly stand it.

Just in case you’re trying to figure out what to watch tonight on TV I’d like to recommend “Top Chef Masters” on Bravo. This is basically the same as regular “Top Chef” minus the drama, since these contestants are actually accomplished professionals who choose not to look like whiny, competitive idiots on national television. I guess it makes perfect sense that I’d preface these remarks with my opening tirade about food.

Damn, I’m hungry. Thank you for reading this.

Attractive labor-free eggs and zero carbs.

It’s Tuesday afternoon in Howdygramland. Sam is at work, a load of underwear is dancing in the dryer and sometime this afternoon I’ll bake my first loaf of low-carb banana bread because my new nonstick pan just arrived from Amazon.com. Holy crap. Is this exciting, or what?

I might also bake rye bread today for Sam. He loves rye bread, and I’m feeling especially generous and kind-hearted this afternoon. (Translation: I don’t really have anything else to do except fold underwear.)

From our Two Slugs in Residence department, Sam and I enjoyed a first-rate movie this morning about the Russian revolution: Knight Without Armor (1937) starring Marlene Dietrich and Robert Donat as a pair of refugees eating stale bread and running through the woods in stolen coats. She’s actually an escaped countess with perfect makeup hiding from the Bolsheviks and he’s an officer for the other side; after they fall in love, everybody ends up being the enemy. This was definitely all very well done, and the fact that Sam managed to stay awake for the entire film should be testimonial enough.

Breaking news! I just ordered myself a couple of extra sorter bags for my awesome Seville Classics rolling laundry cart. A girl can never have too many sorter bags! Seville Classics makes the best laundry crapola on earth and prices on their own website are even lower than Amazon’s. The Howdygram thinks you should buy something from them.

Incidentally, tomorrow’s biweekly and unusually huge delivery from Schwan’s will include an old favorite (Quick-Bake French Fries) and something I’m trying for the very first time: Garden Vegetable Omelets. You get six in a box for about $10 — with cheese! — and they nuke in only 90 seconds. As a lazy senior with diabetes and a variety of mobility issues, this product promises attractive labor-free eggs, a hot meal and zero carbs. Definitely a win-win if they’re actually edible. (Stay tuned.)

And now, alas, it’s time to empty the dishwasher, continue my laundering activities and preheat the oven for banana bread. Don’t be jealous. Thank you.

Hamper-shleppers and volunteer sock-folders are welcome throughout the day.

Today, for your possible interest, is my wedding anniversary. Since Sam won’t be home from work until 10:45 I decided to celebrate by myself with grilled cheese and pickles. After-dinner festivites included rinsing a few dishes, redesigning the Howdygram’s banner and graphics for the second time in a month and watching one of my favorite Margaret O’Brien movies: Lost Angel co-starring James Craig.

Even though it’s getting late, there’s still time to: 1) send Sam and me a happy anniversary email; 2) call us before midnight to say howdy; or 3) wire a large amount of cash to our Wells Fargo checking account.

Tomorrow I get to spend most of the day doing laundry. Visitors with coffee cake, professional hamper-shleppers and volunteer sock-folders are welcome throughout the day. Please get in touch as soon as possible to secure your preferred time slot and thank you for reading this.

Forty dollars is nothing to sneeze at.

Breaking news: My shuffling days are over. I can no longer get up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night with my eyes closed. When you’re 60 years old with arthritis and neuropathy this once-simple activity requires a number of important and sequential steps, including: 1) turning on a light so I won’t get dizzy; 2) grabbing my cane, my robe and my trifocals; 3) shlepping down the hall to the bathroom without smashing my toes on the bench at the end of our bed; 4) accomplishing item 3 in reverse; and 5) glancing at the clock before I get back into bed and realizing I’ve been gone 22 minutes, at which point I’m wide awake and wondering if there’s any leftover chocolate pudding in the refrigerator and why not write a Howdygram post while I’m at it.

It’s hell getting old.

Sam and I had a wonderful day at the Choctaw Casino! The buffet today was actually a BIG BRUNCH HOO-HAH with lots of fun and exciting things to eat. Wonton soup with excellent wontons! Guacamole! Nice tamales! Lox and bagels! Eggs! Omelets! Tubs of bacon! Tuna salad! Biscuits! And (of course) SUGAR-FREE LEMON MERINGUE PIE! Afterwards we won some encouraging dough at the penny slots, returning home with a nice little profit of $40. This is nothing to sneeze at. Our favorite lucky slot machines are pictured below for your possible interest.

From our Only in Texas department comes the story of the Braken Bat Cave Meshweaver, an eyeless (i.e., blind) spider that’s been on the federal endangered species list for the last 12 years. Apparently somebody spotted the aforementioned blind spider a few days ago in a hole near San Antonio where the Texas Department of  Transportation was rebuilding an underpass at Route 151. “Yo, Jim-Bob, stop the back-hoe! I found me a stupid spider with NO EYES!” Seriously?

Naturally, our neanderthal GOP governor Rick “Einstein” Perry (see below) has no problem halting a $15 million highway project to protect the habitat of a crappy little spider while continuing to deny Planned Parenthood’s health care services to 200,000 poor women who need prenatal care, cancer screenings and birth control. (It’s pretty clear which species ranks higher in Texas.)

Hey, Einstein, here’s a news flash for you … TEXAS HAS ENOUGH INSECTS. Just go ahead and squish the little bastard. He’s blind. He’ll never know who did it.

I need to watch a movie now. Thank you for reading this.

Saturday in Howdygramland includes lots of food, lots of naps and Humphrey Bogart.

Yo, everybody, and happy Saturday night! Following a lazy afternoon of consecutive naps Sam and I enjoyed a terrific dinner at Cafe Greek in Dallas, drove through a bunch of different neighborhoods just for fun and then came home to collapse and watch TV. We’re definitely feeling stuffed, lethargic and generally pooped but plan to rebound FAST for our trip to the Choctaw Casino tomorrow. We’ll be on the road by 9:30 a.m.

Cafe Greek is pictured above for your possible interest. They’ve got cute Greek décor and a well-stocked buffet full of excellent Greek food — moussaka, gyros, crunchy sesame fish slabs, spanakopita, chicken, stuffed grape leaves and a huge variety of cold Mediterranean things and marinated doodads — plus a couple of Greek desserts floating in Greek honey that left Sam weak in his thoroughly non-Greek knees. Service, however, was nonexistent. Two crabby owners sat at a corner table bickering in their native language and pretty much ignored everything and everybody else until Sam finally had to walk his empty glass into the kitchen for more water and ice. Fortunately, it wasn’t a very long walk and they gave him a lot of ice. (Ice is good.)

At the moment I’m considering a nice hot shower followed by a bowl of sugar-free cherry pie filling and a couple of Humphrey Bogart movies. We’re halfway through The Big Sleep and then I’d like to watch Key Largo in honor of hurricane season.

Thank you for reading this. Feel free to come back any time.

Marcy’s speedy cream of mushroom soup.

Hello, people! I thought I’d post my favorite cream of mushroom soup recipe in an effort to try and keep my mind off how crappy I feel tonight due to a BIG COLD FRONT that’s rolling into town. There’s no other explanation for the pain in my back and knees. Holy crap.

So here’s my recipe. It’s easy, there aren’t a lot of ingredients, you can throw the whole thing together in about 15 minutes if you’re motivated and (the best part) it tastes way better than anything that comes in a can.

• 4 tablespoons butter
• 3 to 4 cups rehydrated freeze-dried mushrooms (see below)
• 6 tablespoons CarbQuik
• 32-oz. container chicken broth
• 1 cup unflavored Almond Breeze almond milk
• ½ teaspoon salt
• Black pepper to taste

Melt butter in a large saucepan and sprinkle in the the flour, stirring until both are incorporated into a paste. Add the mushrooms and chicken broth and heat to a simmer, stirring frequently until thickened. Stir in the half & half, salt and pepper. Simmer for about 10 additional minutes and pour into dark brown soup bowls (required).

Let’s discuss freeze-dried mushrooms for a minute, okay? I buy mine from Shelf Reliance. This is an amazing product to keep in your pantry and I’ve usually got two gigantic cans hanging around for gravy, omeletes, soup and whatnot. They practically last forever, rehydrate in three minutes and you’d never know they weren’t fresh from the supermarket. Please try these. You can start with a little sample pouch if you’re not ready to invest in the big #10 can. Thank you for reading this.

The Howdygram’s fall Gefilte Fish Festival is on hold indefinitely.

I would like to thank President Obama for last night’s inspirational acceptance speech at the Democratic National Convention, which was actually a whole lot better than the “home run” described by pundits on MSNBC ... the President hit this one into the stratosphere. I recorded last night’s entire session (six hours) so Sam can watch it over the weekend. I don’t think he’ll need a box of Kleenex, however, because he’s not a weepy geezer like yours truly.

Breaking news! A brand new Trader Joe’s — our first in the Dallas metro area — opened this morning in Plano at the northeast corner Park and Preston. I’m expecting to show up there one day next week when they unlock the doors at 8 a.m. armed with a cane, poison darts and a foghorn, the recommended tools to help determined seniors navigate the throngs of socialites and Escalades.

The map above indicates: A) Howdygram headquarters; and B) Trader Joe’s in Plano. I’ve already got my shopping list. Let me know if you need anything (click here) and I’ll be glad to pick it up for you.

Our mailman dropped off a disgusting package this morning ... a soggy, smelly mess of a box bound in heavy plastic with an apology note plastered to the top. Inside were THREE SHATTERED JARS OF GEFILTE FISH swimming in broken glass and rancid liquid. I held my breath to snap the following photos, wrapped the box in a double garbage bag and asked Sam to eject it from the house.

Amazon.com has agreed to refund my money but can’t replace the order because they ran out of product so, for obvious reasons, the Howdygram’s fall Gefilte Fish Festival is on hold indefinitely. To cheer myself up I just ordered a large box of insulin pen needles.

I downloaded another pile of free fonts this afternoon and thought I’d share them here for your possible interest:

I think I’ll make homemade cream of mushroom soup now and watch “People’s Court.” Thank you for reading this.

Weepy geezers rule!

I wish somebody would explain why I always cry watching the Democratic National Convention. I cry during the Pledge of Allegiance, I cry when I see people in the crowd with stupid hats, I cry during video introductions and I cry (a lot) during speeches. This might have something to do with getting old, because I noticed Joe Biden crying tonight when his son Beau was speaking at the podium. Personally, I think all of us weepy geezers need to stick together.

Sam just called to tell me he’ll be working late tonight. I’m not thrilled, of course, but everybody likes extra moolah once in a while and now I’ll also have an opportunity to watch all of “Project Runway” before he gets home!

I forgot to ask Sam for an ETA. (It’s okay. I like surprises.) Thank you for reading this.

Fatty Arbuckle, happy Democrats, normal sonograms and let’s order a pizza.

As I write this post I’m typing comfortably from my BRAND NEW CHAIR (click here), the perfect accessory for advanced Howdygrammin’ and other sedentary endeavors! Sam assembled it this morning when I was at the nephrologist’s office. Which, by the way, brings me to my next item of interest. LAST WEEK’S KIDNEY SONOGRAM WAS NORMAL. This is very good news. Let’s order a pizza!

The map above indicates: A) Howdygram headquarters; and B) Dr. Hsu’s office next to Baylor Hospital in Garland. They have really big elevators.

Please excuse me for a minute while I rip the telephone out of the wall. I just had four calls in a row from different numbers but nobody was on the line when I answered. I HATE CRAP LIKE THIS. I think somebody must have deleted the national Do Not Call Registry because all of a sudden our phone is ringing day and night with calls from every irritating organization on earth plus lots of hang-ups and dead connections. Why can’t these people GO AWAY and LEAVE ME ALONE? Very truly yours, Marcy Garbo.

I’ll try to write an additional post later today but I’m not promising anything. At the moment I’ve got a full schedule that includes: 1) eating a large quantity of cheese and Vlasic sugar-free bread & butter pickles; 2) a nap; 3) approximately four hours of the Democratic National Convention; and 4) two episodes of “People’s Court,” tonight’s episode of “Project Runway” and one or more Fatty Arbuckle silent comedies.

By the way, I hope you didn’t miss last night’s festivities at the DNC because President Clinton and Elizabeth Warren delivered sensational speeches. (Especially Clinton. I’m a huge fan.)

The main hoo-hah starts tonight during prime-time when we get to see the big acceptance speeches (Obama and Biden) and a billion Democratic balloons. Promise me you’ll tune in for the main hoo-hah and thank you for reading this.

I’ll bet nobody at Advanced Kidney Care of North Texas remembers who the hell I am.

For those of you wondering about the results of last week’s kidney ultrasound, I’m seeing Dr. Hsu tomorrow morning at 11 to find out what’s what. Although I’m pretty sure there’s nothing to worry about, one of the following two statements is probably true: 1) Dr. Hsu’s assistant wouldn’t give me the results by phone because I haven’t set foot in their office since last fall; and 2) I’ll bet nobody at Advanced Kidney Care of North Texas even remembers who the hell I am. Stay tuned for more information but please feel free to continue your normal routine in the meantime. Thank you.

I think I’ll make some pudding* and watch the Democratic Convention until it’s time for this week’s episode of “Top Chef Masters.” Thank you for reading this.

*Jello Instant Sugar-Free Vanilla with cinnamon and raisins. Stop laughing.

Happy birthday, Egg McMuffin.

I’m looking at an insane forecast on Weather.com. The high temperature here will be 104° every day until Saturday, at which time it plummets 20 degrees into the mid-80s with no explanation, no rain, no storms, no nothing except for an obvious “cold front” that sneaks into town with no fanfare whatsoever. I was hoping we’d at least get a few juicy thunderstorms and I’m pissed. I’d write a letter if I could figure out who’s responsible for this travesty.

So is everybody watching the Democratic Convention this week? I like the coverage on MSNBC and managed to hang in there for about five hours last night, recording the best speeches for Sam so he could watch when he got home from work. The highlights (for me, anyway) were Deval Patrick and Michelle Obama, both delivering the speeches of a lifetime. I think Deval Patrick’s oratory is right up there with Ted Kennedy’s (damn, I miss him) and Michelle was so spectacular I sat all by myself cheering, crying and clapping with a bowl of soup on my lap. I also found time to squeeze in yesterday’s episodes of “Hardcore Pawn” and “People’s Court.” It’s a full life.

Just in case you haven’t been to a good party lately, please note that McDonald’s iconic breakfast slider, the ever-popular Egg McMuffin, is officially 40 years old! In some ways I find this hard to believe; in other ways I don’t give a crap. I buy knockoffs from Schwan’s that taste fine, microwave in less than two minutes and you don’t have to wear shoes or waste half an hour at the drive-through.

In other news, I’m expecting three exciting UPS deliveries this afternoon! These include: 1) a new desk chair for Howdygram headquarters; 2) six Hodgson Mill bread machine mixes in Sam’s favorite flavor (rye) because I love him; and 3) a replacement electronic kitchen thermometer so I won’t screw up the yeast. Tomorrow I’m expecting two large boxes of Lactaid chewables from Wal-Mart (yes, friends, on top of everything else I’m also lactose intolerant) and a crate of eagerly-anticipated low-carb crapola — coffee cake! cherry pie filling! whole wheat bread machine mixes! — from Netrition.com. If it wasn’t so damn hot outside I’d wait on the front doorstep.

I just realized I haven’t eaten lunch yet. I don’t know about you, but I think this is scary.

Pie is serious.

Yo everybody. Before I go to bed I thought I’d let you know that Sam and I will celebrate our wedding anniversary next weekend with a nice drive to the Choctaw Casino in Oklahoma, where we’ll win an armload of dough at the penny slots (I can dream) and eat lunch at the buffet with sugar-free pie. My favorite is the lemon meringue. It’s so damn good I might skip the entrees altogether and just do pie. I’m not kidding. Pie is serious.

I don’t really know why I thought it was so important to tell you about this, but what the hell. Thank you.

Too bad I can’t order us some cooler weather from Amazon. They sell everything else.

Let’s start with a quick review of today’s lunch excursion, the Blue Goose Cantina in Addison, where Sam and I dined on dry, microwaved leftovers (rock-hard tamales for Sam, rubbery chicken enchiladas for me). And that was the good part! Our waitress, who never bothered to introduce herself (no kidding), was abrupt to the point of being RUDE. Although the restaurant was barely one-third full when we got there at 11:30 she delivered our check with the entrees and never spoke to us again except to ask “Is everything all right?” before we even had a chance to taste the food. And then came the big HOLY CRAP FAUX PAS when Sam handed her the little leather folder with our money inside and she asked if he wanted change. VERY BAD MOVE. If I don’t want change, I’ll tell YOU. Bring back my money, Einstein!

To their credit, however, the Blue Goose had good salsa and cloth napkins. (Big deal.)

As a follow-up to my recent post about this year’s fried food competition for vendors at the 2012 Texas State Fair, the Howdygram would like to congratulate the winners of the Big Tex Choice Awards. Abel Gonzales, who won the Best Taste award, created Deep-Fried Jambalaya; Butch Benavides won Most Creative for Fried Bacon Cinnamon Rolls. They posed below for a publicity photo earlier today although I have no idea which one is Gonzales and which one is Benavides. I’d like to express my thanks to the Dallas Observer for their fine reporting. The State Fair opens on September 28,

For your possible interest the following is a list of additional new food offerings that didn’t make it into the finals:

• Cup of Trash. Pinto beans, northern beans, burger meat and rice topped with onions, cheese and tomatoes. Isn’t this really just leftovers?
• Deep-Fried Baked Potato. Crispy fried French fries wrapped in foil, split open and filled with butter, cheese, sour cream, chives and bacon bits. Beef and barbecue sauce are optional. Huh?
• Deep-Fried Chicken and Waffles. Chicken breast dipped in waffle batter, fried and dusted with sugar. On a stick. 

I feel sick.
• Deep-Fried Red Velvet Cupcake. Red velvet cupcake filled with cream cheese, fried, covered with more frosting and topped with a fried chicken wing. Now I REALLY feel sick. Who the hell eats chicken and frosting?
• El Dogito on a Stick. Spicy sausage with cheese and jalapeños, wrapped in a tortilla and fried. Not bad.
• Fried Cotton Candy. Pink cotton candy lightly battered with funnel cake mix,  quick-fried and dusted with powdered sugar. And drizzled with insulin.
• Fried Cow Patty. They didn’t really fry poop. It’s fried chocolate cake batter with chocolate pudding and chocolate whipped cream. So it will intentionally look like poop but won’t taste like poop. Thank God.
• Fried Sugar. Sugar cubes are dipped in pancake batter, fried and doused with caramel sauce. There’s just no end to this, is there?
• Chocolate Candy-Coated Bacon. Fried bacon dipped in chocolate and rolled in candy sprinkles. When did bacon become the god of everything? I don’t get it.

Gourmet food options aside, here are four significant reasons why I will NOT be going to this year’s State Fair:

1. Dallas County is still worried about West Nile virus and mosquito infestation at the fairground’s lagoons.
2. Dengue fever, also carried by mosquitoes, is migrating north from Mexico.
3. Swine flu is making a comeback! Elderly fairgoers — I guess I’m in this category now — and very young children are being warned to steer clear of livestock exhibits.
4. Parking sucks.

One final thought. We’re still in the middle of an unwelcome early fall heat wave here in north Texas, as evidenced by Weather.com’s forecast through Friday:

Too bad I can’t order us some cooler weather from Amazon. They sell everything else. Thank you for reading this.

Somebody should invent TicTacs for insomniacs that come in a padded box.

It’s the wee hours of Monday morning, Sam’s still asleep and Howdygram headquarters is bathed in silence except for the occasional rattle of TicTacs.

This actually brings me to my first brainstorm of the day. Somebody should invent TicTacs for insomniacs that come in a padded box.

Browser bulletin! To those of you using a Mac with the latest version of Safari I apologize if the Howdygram has started looking stupid. It seems that Safari no longer recognizes certain features of Blogspot’s layout software and I can’t figure out how to fix it. The date above every post and the footer below my signature are supposed to be 9-point type, and both are displayed correctly if you use Firefox, Chrome or Explorer. In Safari, though, they appear about three times larger. I’m guessing Apple is retranslating layouts to be compatible with iPads and iPhones, but right now I’m looking at this situation like an irritating glitch. As a result I stopped using Safari 6.0 on my Mac a few weeks ago and switched back to Firefox.

Humor me for a few minutes while I review a couple of surprisingly good Warren William movies that we watched yesterday ... The Match King (1932) with Lili Damita and Arsène Lupin Returns (1938) with Melvyn Douglas.

The Match King definitely was a curiosity. I thought the plot was way too evil to be fiction and it turns out I was right. This movie tells the true story of Ivar Kreuger — played by Warren William as “Paul Kroll” — who was the Bernie Madoff of the 1920s. Kreuger operated an enormous international Ponzi scheme that defrauded cash-poor governments by exchanging bogus loans for a manufacturing monopoly on matches. Seriously! In the process he stole, he lied, he blackmailed, he cheated friends, he hired spies, he sent innocent men to prison, committed others to mental hospitals and even murdered someone. Kreuger’s world fell apart in 1932 when he sold $40,000,000 in counterfeit Italian government bonds on Wall Street and eventually jumped to his death from his office window in Sweden when authorities started closing in. HOLY CRAP.

 Arsène Lupin Returns was a fun adventure in suspense with Melvyn Douglas in the title role as an international jewel thief; Warren William played the insurance detective on his trail. The terrific supporting cast included a lot of familiar faces (to me, anyway) such as Monty Woolley, Virginia Bruce, Nat Pendleton and John Halliday. My one complaint: the running time was only 81 minutes! (I can never get enough Melvyn Douglas.)

Maybe I should think about going back to bed for a few hours so I’ll be awake when it’s time for lunch! We’re trying another Tex-Mex restaurant today from the Best of Dallas list, this time either Mattito’s or Blue Goose Cantina. A review will follow. Thank you.

Big trees and dead Texans.

It’s been another quiet day at Howdygram headquarters, featuring naps, homemade tacos for lunch and a nice drive to Braum’s in Terrell for ice cream, which we ate in the cemetery across the street because when it’s 101° outside we’d rather park underneath big trees surrounded by dead Texans.

Breaking news! The Howdygram’s Fall Gefilte Fish Festival begins September 10, which (coincidentally) is also the same day my Manischewitz order from Amazon.com is scheduled to arrive. All are welcome to attend; advance reservations recommended. B.Y.O.H.*

*Bring your own horseradish. We’ll supply the napkins.

We watched a clunker of a movie last night on TCM. I was ready to delete it immediately after the opening credits but Sam urged me to keep watching for a while. Former silent screen star Richard Dix plays a sullen yet boring character named Earl Conrad in The Whistler (1944), a gritty film noir that starts with a decent idea for a story but gets loused up by stupid narration, too many dark alleys, an unseen (and unexplained) phantom whistling in the dark and plot twists that make no sense whatsoever. For instance, why would Earl decide to pay a hit man $10,000 to kill himself instead of just committing suicide like normal people? How did Earl’s wife end up in a Japanese prison camp? And, most importantly, why did Earl’s secretary have such fluffy hair? Holy crap.

I guess it’s time to think about dinner. Thank you for reading this.

It’s hot as hell around here.

While we wait for China City to deliver our Saturday night sack of tasty whatnots I thought I’d write a quick Howdygram post so I can share an important video from the Obama/Biden campaign. Please ... forward this to everybody you know. Thank you.



It’s been hot as hell around here for the last several days with a lot more to come well into next week. In this case “hell” can be defined as triple-digit temperatures, sun that’s bright enough to fry an armadillo and zero rain. Know what’s even worse? The stack of catalogs on my desk for winter coats, Thanksgiving home décor, down comforters and Christmas cards. HOLY CRAP.

Please send an email if you want to come over and watch movies with us tonight. Your choice! Thank you for reading this.

It’s safe to assume we’re not going out to lunch today or we’d already be there.

It’s Saturday, and Sam and I appear to be taking turns at slugdom. I went back to bed this morning from 8 until 10:30, and half an hour after I woke up Sam decided it was his turn. It’s currently 12:30, he’s still unconscious as I write this post, and I suppose at this point it’s safe to assume we’re not going out to lunch today or we’d already be there. In the meantime I’ll consider gefilte fish.

This provides an excellent segue into the following Jewish news flash. I just bought myself FOUR BIG JARS of Manischewitz gefilte fish (pictured below) on Amazon.com for $19.99 with free shipping! What a steal! Rosh Hashana is coming, so TELL YOUR FRIENDS! These are the same 24-ounce jars that sell for $10.99 each at the supermarket except not really in Texas because the yahoos around here are into guns and pickup trucks.

Maybe we’re geeks, but Sam and I love to check out the Howdygram’s visitor statistics, which tell us which cities, states and countries you live in, which browsers you use, how long it takes you to read a post and what you’re wearing. (I might be kidding about that last part.) But I think the most interesting stats are the FIVE MOST POPULAR GOOGLE SEARCHES that bring new victims to the Howdygram on a daily basis! They are:

1. Paula Deen plastic surgery
2. Ugliest world leaders
3. Madonna’s nipple
4. Heckle & Jeckle
5. Marie Osmond looks like a drag queen

The closest runners-up are Underwood Deviled Ham, the Whataburger font and Aunt Barbara Tupperware party. Seriously.

Holy crap, I need some food. Thank you for reading this.

Holy crap. It’s already September.

Life is moving too fast for me. Two months from today I will be 61 years old, which happens to be same age as Aunt Bee during the first season of “The Andy Griffith Show.” This is even scarier than it sounds, but — thank God —  there are a number of important differences. I don’t have gray hair, I don’t own an apron, I don’t have a secret recipe for fried chicken and my best friend isn’t an old pickle-puss named Clara.

I just realized that it’s been an awfully long time since my last installment of the Holy Crap Gallery, so here’s a little treat for the first day of September. At 62 I think Twiggy looks a lot more like Aunt Bee than I do. I’m just saying.

I hate diabetes. It’s nearly 4 a.m. and I’ve been up for the last two hours with hot hands and feet, the same damn neuropathy issues I had last night, although tonight’s episode isn’t quite as severe. This is such is good news that I might need a cheese sandwich to celebrate. (I’ve been hungry since midnight.) Thanks for stopping by. Turn out the lights when you’re done, okay?