Go suck tumbleweeds, Governor Perry.

In this post: Victory for women, a Halloween surprise, hating my clients.

I’ve got some damn exciting news to share with y’all. A Federal judge has struck down Texas’ draconian new abortion law that would have closed nearly every abortion clinic in the state. It was supposed to take effect tomorrow but U.S. District Judge Lee Yeakel ultimately decided that Texas could not place unreasonable new restrictions on doctors performing abortions or throw additional obstacles in the path of women seeking abortion services. I have only one comment for Governor Perry: YEE-HAW AND GO SUCK TUMBLEWEEDS, YOU MISERABLE MISOGYNIST!

Boris Karloff was a well-dressed Hollywood hunk.

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

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

NorthPark Center is the biggest hoo-hah in Dallas for high-end shopping.

In this post: Not going out, not staying awake, not watching the Cowboys game.

We almost went someplace today until I changed my mind at the last minute. For the last couple of days Sam and I had tossed around a few ideas about an outing to snooty NorthPark Center in Dallas — I haven’t been to a mall in years! — with lunch at P.F. Chang’s near the south entrance. This could have worked out beautifully if I hadn’t accidentally slept until 11:30, thereby destroying any feasible opportunity to find a parking spot and get seated in the restaurant in advance of the Southern Baptist after-church horde. In other words, I really screwed us up.

Please don’t get too close. I’m not wearing a brassiere.

In this post: Adventures in snacking, an epic nap, wayward thunderstorms.

It’s very late Saturday afternoon and I just woke up from an unexpected nap of truly epic proportions. For instance, shortly after lunch I decided to put my feet up for a few minutes (famous last words) but remained unconscious for nearly THREE HOURS while Sam roamed through the house doing God knows what. At the moment I’m feeling pretty damn good but slightly hungry, the latter of which I’ll address momentarily with some low-carb Lowrey’s microwave pork rinds and a can of my new Cheap Generic Jalapeño Cheese Dip from DollarTree.com. These are pictured below for your possible interest.

Appreciating the hidden dangers of cheap canned meat.

In this post: Amateur surgery.

Hi, people. It’s 5:30 a.m. and I’m wide awake for no apparent reason. I got up about 40 minutes ago for a middle-of-the-night wee-wee and decided I was having way too much fun to go back to bed. Actually, I think my blood sugar might be low, but since I’m still conscious and typing let’s all try not to panic.

Note to Congressman Pete Sessions: Next election I look forward to ending your obvious misery.

In this post: Birthday clubs, casino scooters, vindictive old white men.

This, dear friends, is always my favorite time of year. Because I painstakingly remembered to sign myself up for all kinds of valuable “birthday clubs”: 1) stores, websites and restaurants are drowning me with emails and coupons for discounts, free shipping and piles of free food I can’t eat; 2) my dentist sent a postcard for free teeth-whitening (what a comedian; I wear dentures); and 3) and a scam outfit called Lake Pointe Advisory Group has invited me to a free senior citizen seminar so I can “learn to protect your retirement wealth.” (Here’s a thought ... if I don’t go, I can protect it from THEM.)

The entertaining Civil War, 20th Century Fox style.

In this post: More clients from hell, Civil War entertainment.

Holy crap. My clients, again.

Another one sent me a frantic email this morning: “I see our website has been removed. Did we miss something? Do we owe you money? I don’t understand what’s happening!”

So I write back and tell her yes, your website is offline, and yes, you owe me money. I’ve been sending you emails SINCE THE FIRST WEEK OF SEPTEMBER to alert you to your fourth quarter web hosting payment that was due on October 1. I unpublished your website on the 15th for nonpayment and you now owe me a shitload of dough, including a $20 late payment fee and a $50 labor charge to relaunch your site. YOU ARE SUCH A DAMN PEST. PLEASE GO AWAY, STOP ANNOYING ME AND LET ME RETIRE ALREADY!

Maybe those weren’t my exact words, but they’re really close.

Curing immobility with all the bells and whistles.

In this post: Immobility, innoculations.  

Today was a day that will live in infamy but has nothing whatosever to do Franklin Roosevelt, Pearl Harbor, the Japanese air force or bombs. This was the first day I’ve been out of the house since I drove Sam to the airport back on October 5. And this is also a classic example of what happens to a person when they have crappy mobility: YOU NEVER GO ANYWHERE. Thank God I love Howdygram headquarters or I’d probably blow my brains out.

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

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

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

I have to wash a frying pan.

In this post: Mopping up, praying for retirement.

Sam is working late tonight. My main focus for the next couple of hours will be basic kitchen organization, because my maid will be here tomorrow afternoon and I always feel compelled to straighten up the house before she gets here. This typically includes loading stray dishes into the dishwasher, cleaning off the countertops and I also have to wash a frying pan. A woman’s work is never done.

Pastor Kevin Swanson is a putz extraordinaire.

In this post: Another putz, an all-time low, Sam to the rescue.

How low can you go? I almost found out this morning when I injected mealtime insulin at 11:15 and then forgot to eat lunch. The result? A hypoglycemic episode of epic proportions.

Sam was ready to get into the shower when I staggered into the kitchen, sat down on a stool and shrieked his name two or three times. I’m shocked that he heard me, but thank God he did, because all of sudden he’s galloping into the room like a beautiful gazelle clutching a bottle of my favorite tasty glucose tablets from Wal-Mart, the ones with assorted tropical fruit flavors like banana, coconut and pineapple. (I don’t know what the pink ones are.) In a nutshell, SAM SAVED MY LIFE. Or, at the very least, he avoided the obvious challenge of hoisting me up off the floor if I’d actually passed out. And I was very, very close. Holy crap, people.

The Great Bathroom Disaster of 2013.

In this post: Naked cleanup, costumed kittens, percussion tap.

It began with a simple crash last night around 8 p.m. while I was in the study wasting time online and Sam was still unconscious in bed after working 44½ hours of overtime on Saturday and Sunday. I thought the noise came from the kitchen, such as dishes breaking or possibly crap falling off a pantry shelf, but after looking around for a few minutes we couldn’t figure out what happened. So I moved on to Plan B — what the hell, why not take a shower — and that’s when we discovered the disaster. There, on the floor of our shower stall in the master bath, were the remains of a large soap and shampoo dispenser (pictured below) that had vaulted to its death from the wall along with three quarts of slimy foaming goo on EVERYTHING.

Embracing a time-honored senior citizen tradition.

In this post: Anticipating Sam, Marcy’s Birthday Wish List.

I woke up this morning at 5:30 a.m. for a time-honored senior citizen tradition — i.e., a middle-of-the-night pee — when I realized, sadly, that SAM WAS STILL DOWNTOWN AT THE OFFICE. No kidding, people ... he worked 44½ hours of overtime this weekend and didn’t come home until first shift showed up around 7 a.m. He went straight to bed the minute he walked in even though I suggested Brownie Brittle and Cool Whip for breakfast.

“Come September” includes Sandra Dee and Bobby Darin at no extra charge.

In this post: A Rock Hudson triple feature.

This will probably be my final post of the day. I recorded three adorable Rock Hudson comedies tonight and figure I should use this opportunity with Sam working until sunrise to watch as many as possible before I pass out. They are Come September (1961) with Gina Lollobrigida, Lover Come Back (1961) and Send Me No Flowers (1964), the latter two with Doris Day and Tony Randall. As a bonus — and in case you give a crap — Come September is filmed on location in Italy and includes Sandra Dee and Bobby Darin at no extra charge. (I wouldn’t joke about this.)

When Sam comes home I want to play with his feet.

In this post: Missing Sam, spy thrillers, leftovers.

Holy crap. It’s 6 p.m. on Sunday and I’m bored to death. Sam has been downtown at work since before breakfast (he left when I was still asleep) and probably won’t be home until sun-up on Monday. I have no idea how he does this, but I know it can’t be healthy not to go to bed for 24 hours and exist on a diet of trail mix and leftover pizza. I miss him. When he finally comes home I want to play with his feet, although I’m sure he’ll kill me for saying this. To amuse myself in the meantime I’m watching movies and thinking about things I can eat.

A top-flight horror movie with the biggest demon you’ve ever seen.

In this post: Sunday crapola, demons from hell, introducing Ethel.

It’s 4 a.m. and I’m wide awake. There’s not much to do around here in the middle of the night except for horsing around with the Howdygram so I guess you’re stuck with me for the time being. Sam is asleep, fortunately. He worked 18 hours on Saturday (most of them downtown at the office) and will probably have to work all day today, too. He’s not eating much, either.

And now for our latest movie review! Curse of the Demon (1957) starring Dana Andrews and Peggy Cummins is a top-flight horror movie from noted director Jacques Tourneur.

Set in England, the story features mad scientists, devil worship, snooty houses, a visit to Stonehenge, the biggest demon you’ve ever seen, people getting hypnotized, scary shadows, somebody getting electrocuted, appointment books with missing pages, a nice car, wind, a séance with singing, train rides and zero wardrobe budget because the leading lady wears the same tacky coat in every scene. Sam and I loved this movie, although technically I was the only one who stayed awake all the way through. Sam fell asleep shortly after the singing séance.

My low-carb Mock Matzo Balls are fluffy little beauties in your favorite soup.

On October 13 I posted a simple little recipe for easy low-carb dumplings that you can cook in a pot of soup or stew. After a brief period of intense experimentation in the Howdygram test kitchen I’d like to announce a recipe revision, as shown below.

• 3 cups CarbQuik low-carb baking mix
• ½ cup zero-carb heavy cream
• ½ cup water
• 3 extra large eggs, beaten

Blend all ingredients in a big bowl until you have a nice soft dough. Add a little extra water one tablespoon at a time if the dough is too dry. Drop dough by spoonfuls onto simmering soup (or stew). Cook for 10 minutes uncovered and then 10 minutes tightly covered. No peeking, okay?

Amazon loves me and I love them right back.

In this post: When Saturdays suck, understanding Amazon.

It’s late Saturday afternoon and Sam is at the office. I hate sentences like that, because Sam should be hanging out here at Howdygram headquarters on Saturday afternoons with a cheesy movie on TV, such as The Mask of Fu Manchu (1932) starring Boris Karloff and Myrna Loy or It Came From Outer Space (1953) starring Richard Carlson, Barbara Rush and Russell Johnson. Both films are currently recorded on our DVR. In case you give a crap, Russell’s big break came years later as the Professor on “Gilligan’s Island.” In this part, though, an alien with a giant eyeball turns him into a zombie telephone repairman with a voice like the drive-through at Jack in the Box.

The love affair continues.

In this post: Bagels and buns (part two).

It’s almost 11 p.m. and Sam is working late tonight, so I thought I’d hang out with the Howdygram for a while and keep y’all company. I guess the biggest news is, UPS delivered my low-carb bagels and hamburger buns from Netrition right on schedule (see previous post), and you know what? THEY’RE FAN-FRICKIN’-TASTIC. Only two carbs each. TWO CARBS!

Bagels and buns, bursting forth.

In this post: Crime and punishment, bagels and buns, future shock.

Finally … a MoveOn.org petition that’s near and dear to my heart! This one recommends a charge of sedition — including arrest and trial — against the House GOP for conspiring to extort the President, the American people and United States government into abolishing the Affordable Care Act. Sedition is a felony, and the definition appears below. (FYI ... “force” doesn’t refer only to physical violence.) You’ll feel terrific after you sign this petition ... even if nobody ever gets arrested.

If two or more persons in any State or Territory, or in any place subject to the jurisdiction of the United States, conspire ... by force to prevent, hinder, or delay the execution of any law of the United States ... they shall each be fined or imprisoned not more than 20 years, or both.

The World’s Best Vice President delivers muffins to the EPA.

In this post: Happy Halloween, Joe Biden delivers, Sam’s decadent desserts.

Here’s a hot one from the great neanderthal state of Florida, home of the legendary George Zimmerman.

Authorities in Palm Bay say Ron Nielson, 50, and his wife were assembling a burning cross as a Halloween prank when the gasoline vapors ignited due to insufficient ventilation and set Nielson on fire. A neighbor heard the explosion and found Einstein sprawled out in a ditch covered in burns. Police say he was also intoxicated.

You know times have changed if a well-intentioned white boy can’t even burn a cross without lousing it up! Too bad he forgot to wear his white hood for protection. (I’m just saying.)

The Choctaw Casino has a frozen yogurt machine with sprinkles.

In this post: Kicked to the curb, Choctaw Casino.

Howdygram headquarters is doing a happy dance! Tea party Republicans were kicked to the curb last night when they lost their unwinnable battle against President Obama and the United States of America, and I’m pleased to offer the following chart as evidence:

And so ... Federal employees can return to work today and our constipated government will finally move its collective bowels. Quite frankly, if I never see Ted Cruz’s face again it’ll be too soon. What an arrogant POS.

Tea party putz attempts to defend himself against outrageous hypocrisy.

In this post: Putz of the Week, pot roast, Subscribe & Save.

Howdygram headquarters smells like pot roast. It’s been in the oven since 6 p.m. (about 45 minutes ago) and the fragrance is driving me crazy. Incidentally, this is a Schwan’s pot roast, and the nicest hunk of frozen meat you’ll ever buy. You should try it. Thank you.

For the time being you’ll have to keep up with the horseshit in Washington, D.C., all by yourself.

In this post: Schwan’s, foreign food news, miscellaneous crapola.

I woke up hungry this morning and I’m still hungry right now as I write this post. I suppose I could shlep into the kitchen and find something to eat — what normal people do when they’re hungry — except I’m waiting for Schwan’s to show up with our biweekly load of frozen whatnots! Our friendly, uniformed doofus will be here about an hour from now (usually by 11:30) laden with corn dogs, teeny tacos and omelets. Yay, people! A photo of Schwan’s teeny tacos appears below for your possible interest.

Take the quiz. Where do you land on the ideological spectrum?

In this post: Take the quiz, wet weather, having a chocolate attack.

Yes, people, in case you haven’t figured it out by now ... I’m a bleeding heart liberal. That’s as far left as a leftist can get. If you consider yourself politically savvy, there’s an interesting little online quiz sponsored by Esquire/NBC News that will show you where you land on the ideological spectrum between left and right. My results were no surprise whatsoever because I’ve been a pro-choice progressive for decades. The link to the quiz appears below my results.

Rich and happy tile-loving Russian seeks child bride.

In this post: Indecent proposal, insomnia.

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