Bazooka bubble gum made me what I am today: a toothless diabetic.

Welcome to Friday night in Howdygramland. There’s not much to report at this hour except that I’m slightly hungry, very cold and severely despondent that Bazooka bubble gum has decided to ditch its 60-year-old comic strip inner wrap for something “more relevant” to today’s kids. (Maybe a free condom or extra rollover minutes?) First Twinkies disappear, and now this!

For the record, Bazooka bubble gum was an important part of my childhood and, in large part, made me what I am today: a toothless diabetic.

For news a little closer to home, I’d like to announce that Dallas is really, really weird. Apparently city planners are busy preparing for next November’s BIG EVENT, to be known henceforth as “The 50th.” At a media hoo-hah last week Mayor Mike Rawlings said, “The name is simply The 50th.”

In case you haven’t figured out what The 50th is, it’s the fiftieth anniversary of John F. Kennedy’s assassination. Which is a lot like calling Thanksgiving “The Thursday.”

Mayor Rawlings offered the following remarks: “The entire country and world will be looking on Dallas this time next year, November 22, 2013, 50 years later. First let me discuss what we are going to accomplish with this event. This is an event to honor the remarkable life, legacy and leadership of President John F. Kennedy. Solely that, and nothing more. Secondly, the tone is very important. We want to mark this day remembering a great president with a sense of dignity and honor.”

HOLY CRAP.

Seriously, I hate to break these bad tidings to the mayor, but Dallas will NEVER be remembered for John Kennedy’s life because John Kennedy never lived here. He had no relatives here, he wasn’t educated here, he never held office here and he never had any “dignity and honor” here. HE WAS KILLED HERE. The world remembers Jackie’s pink suit, Lee Harvey Oswald, Jack Ruby, the grassy knoll, the damn School Book Depository and Parkland Memorial Hospital. By refusing to acknowledge the obvious — the assassination — the mayor is setting us up to look like a bunch of delusional yahoos. Which really isn’t much of a stretch, since we’ll probably all show up at The 50th with a six-pack, a hound dog and a Stetson.

I think I’d better grab myself a nice hot shower before I freeze to death and some dinner before I starve to death. I apologize if this sounds too theatrical, but it’s my blog and I’ll write whatever the hell I want.

Have a nice day, okay?