My new cholesterol pills are as big as South Dakota.

In this post: Improvements, medical recap, a Thursday bloodbath.

Ready for a gigantic news flash? For the last 24 hours I’ve had an uncontrollable urge to create Howdygram 2 with all the popular wit, charm and content as my current blog except we’d have a whole new look and a WHITE BACKGROUND because I’m so sick of beige I might have a stroke. Plus ... the old Howdygram (this one) would have a link to the new one in case you forget to bookmark the URL.

So what’s the time frame for all this hoo-hah? Well ... Sam will be in L.A. visiting family for nine days in the middle of June so I thought I’d try to launch the new blog while he’s away. This is monumentally exciting for me, people, so please stay tuned for additional developments and tell your friends, okay?

I never thought it would be such a huge hoo-hah to find a comfortable and reliable place to sit down.

In this post: Grout people, seating issues.

Clayton, leader of the grout people, dropped in this morning to assess the latest crisis with the shower in our master bathroom. To help him better understand where the current leak is coming from Sam jumped into a Speedo, turned on the water full blast and sat on the bench in the shower until a visible little puddle began to form on the bathroom floor. It was pure genius. Clayton realized that his crew didn’t re-hang the frame and glass correctly four visits ago so he volunteered to hire REAL GLASS PEOPLE to redo it from scratch sometime next week.

Don’t forget to turn out the light when you’re done here, okay?

In this post: Egg rolls, Robert Wagner.

It’s 1:45 Tuesday morning. Sam won’t be home from work until maybe 5 a.m. so I thought I’d try to squeeze in one more quick Howdygram post before I go to bed. We’ll see how long I last. I didn’t get much of a nap yesterday so I’m mighty tired right now. Try not to make any unnecessary noise.

Happy birthday Wrigley Field.

In this post: Dead blondes, Wrigley Field.

It’s a dismal, drizzly Saturday afternoon at Howdygram headquarters and Sam’s asleep in the family room watching Forbidden Planet (1956) starring Walter Pidgeon, Anne Francis, Leslie Nielsen and Robby the Robot.

I’ll probably never spend any actual money again on fonts for the rest of my life.

In this post: Changes, spring rolls, mustard-mania.

Know what? I just realized there have been THREE BIG FAT CHANGES at Howdygram headquarters since I retired last June and discontinued my web design/graphic design business. (Ovation Creative, remember?)

Let’s have a couch picnic with the Olympics.

In this post: Italian fashion, Chinese food.

Here’s some fashion news courtesy of our The Best Thing From Italy Is Still Pepperoni department. On Thursday night designer Jeremy Scott showed his first collection for Moschino at Milan Fashion Week, inspired by food wrappers, an ode to Sponge Bob Squarepants and a Chanel-style McDonald’s uniform for cheeseburger stylists ... complete with tray and visor. I wonder if any of these are available in plus sizes because I’d sure look hot at the Mesquite Senior Center in that Sponge Bob romper! A variety of representative runway photos appears below.

Ted Cruz thinks President Obama is “forcing gay marriage on all 50 states.”

In this post: Sam, avoiding King China, Putz of the Week.

Welcome to day two of Sam’s trip to California, where apparently he’s charming the Depends off all those adorable little “eightysomethings” at my mother-in-law’s assisted living facility in Sherman Oaks. Sam has been eating with them once or twice a day in the community dining room and interacting with others as he accompanies mom on her walker junkets up and down the hall.

Frankly, none of this surprises me. Sam is probably the sweetest sweetheart on the planet and EVERYBODY KNOWS IT. I just hope he can tear himself away long enough to fly home to Texas on Sunday because I miss him like crazy. Thank you.

When Sam isn’t home there’s nobody to talk to and I can’t play with his feet. And by the way, Happy New Year.

In this post: Happy New Year, missing Sam.

If you figured I didn’t write a post today because I’ve been laying around with a hangover from New Year’s Eve, this must be your first visit to the Howdygram. I am a slow-moving retired senior citizen with a cane, diabetes, various other health issues and a closet full of maintenance drugs. Truth is, I didn’t write a post today because I got involved in a long afternoon nap followed by the last half of That’s Entertainment: Part III from last night on TCM. And by the way, before I forget ...

I’ll risk damn near anything if unlimited egg rolls are involved.

In this post: Dense fog, giant pies. 

Here’s some breaking news on Saturday afternoon from your friends at Howdygram headquarters! We’ve just decided NOT to drive all over town looking at Christmas lights tonight because it’s too cold and damp outside and also because Sam wants to spend some quality time with the gigantic apple pie he bought this afternoon at Tom Thumb. So I won’t feel left out I purchased the following essentials today from a variety of my favorite Internet retailers. I ordered 100 insulin pen needles from Wayfair.com, a foamy soap dispenser thing from Amazon and McCormick Brown Gravy on eBay.

Insomnia, the kvetch du jour.

In this post: Guess who can’t sleep ... again.

This will be a stupid blow-by-blow description of a day without sleep. Welcome to my world.

MONDAY, 6:47 A.M. I’ve been awake all night. All damn night. I’m not sure I can pinpoint the reason, but it’s most likely a combination of electric shocks in my feet (diabetic peripheral neuropathy), heel pain (plantar fasciitis), mild indigestion, a general feeling of overall shittiness and the fact that I’m not even tired. I tried to go back to bed twice and even stretched out on the chaise in the family room ... but no luck. So I figure I’ll just stop whining and wait until I finally get sleepy. I guess you can’t win ’em all, right?

Sam doesn’t enjoy ptomaine poisoning as much as I do.

In this post: Homemade feasts, celebrating mom.

Happy Tuesday afternoon, Howdygramsters! As I sit here pondering what’s for dinner tonight I’m struck by the fact that Thanksgiving is right around the proverbial corner and I don’t have a craving for turkey yet. This year — just like every other year — we’re picking up a nice heat-it-yourself turkey breast from Boston Market on Town East Boulevard (see image at right) and I’ll make the rest of our feast from scratch all by myself. This includes homemade Stove Top stuffing from a box, a can of Ocean Spray cranberry sauce and a jar of tan gravy. This is followed by a whole pumpkin pie for Sam with a fork and a can of Reddi Whip.

The fine art of self-medication.

In this post: Miserable dickheads in the news, a hypothermic personal best. 

I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of living in Pottersville. There are way too many evil, hate-filled people in the news these days. Take, for example, Everest Wilhelmsen, pictured at right, the miserable dickhead who runs the Christian American Patriots Militia and believes his group “has authority to shoot Obama, i.e., to kill him” due to “his willful violations and alienation of our Constitution, constant disregard for our peaceful protests and corruption of all the three branches of government.” This statement was posted on Wilhelmsen’s Facebook page the same day that a crowd of right-wing hatemongers, conspiracy theorists and gun crackpots rallied in a park near the White House screaming for President Obama to voluntarily leave office “or else.”

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.)

Yup. A secret race of lizard people runs the world.

In this post: Crackpots, conspiracies, teeny egg rolls.

On Monday I posted about the “Truckers Ride for the Constitution” protest/rally/convoy heading to Washington, D.C., this week to be stupid, block traffic and arrest several Congressmen and President Obama for treason. Yesterday the group’s organizer, Earl Conlon, admitted it was all bullshit from the start and just a hoax to irritate the “mainstream media.” However rival organizer and former country singer Zeeda “Einstein” Andrews has claimed exactly the opposite and promises the protest is moving forward as originally planned. Andrews was interviewed this morning by Louisiana radio station WAFB, where she revealed that Truckers Ride for the Constitution has “warring factions” like the Hatfields and McCoys and says that Earl Conlon is a phony, a jackass and a pretender. “Earl has never been authorized as a spokesperson,” Andrews told WAFB. “As a matter of fact, he’s not even riding in the convoy.” It seems that Zeeda Andrews is a roadkill stew of right-wing hysteria, Islamophobia and crackpot conspiracy theories.

Thank God I’ve always got green olives and chocolate soy milk on hand for emergencies.

In this post: Celebrating incontinence, shopping Schwan’s.

I have to admit, it’s an unexpected surprise to be conscious right now. After only two hours of sleep last night — no, that’s not a typo — I’ve had a strange and incoherent day, drifting between interconnected naps and a small, forgettable quantity of nourishment sometime around 11:15 a.m. I think it was half a cup of egg salad and part of a low-carb biscuit leftover from Sunday, but maybe I just imagined it. I know my blood sugar is only 57 right now, though, which means whatever I ate for lunch wasn’t nearly enough. Thank God I’ve always got green olives and chocolate soy milk on hand for emergencies.

Glucose tablets. I need glucose tablets!

In this post: Desperately Seeking Szechuan, the fashions of Thom Browne.

Howdy, foodies! In case you’re curious, last night’s dessert got derailed temporarily. I didn’t have a chance to bake that low-carb cake with the mountain of white fluffy frosting (see previous post) because first I had to: 1) make biscuits and chicken salad for dinner; 2) eat biscuits and chicken salad for dinner; 3) clean up the kitchen; 4) take a nice hot shower; and 5) complete all previous items within a specific time frame in order to participate in a Marks family conference call at 9 to talk about Sam’s mom considering a move to assisted living. (Looks like she’s definitely going to do it. Smart decision!)

This has been a night of frightening food cravings.

That movie I watched last night — Sincerely Yours (1955) starring Liberace and Dorothy Malone — was FABULOUS. Maybe I’m just a sucker for Liberace, but I’ve always thought he was hilarious, genuine and entertaining as hell. I saw him in concert at the Las Vegas Hilton in 1980, back when he dressed in pink fox fur and arrived on stage in a glittered Rolls Royce. Here’s a clip of Liberace from Sincerely Yours for your possible interest. (He was still pretending to be “straight” in those days.)

This has been a night of frightening food cravings. My dinner, which lasted almost two hours, included (in this exact order): 1) hot & sour soup; 2) chia seed pudding; 3) jalapeño shrimp from China City; and 4) Beanit Butter and apricot jelly on low-carb toast smothered with Splenda. I’ll consider it a miracle if I’m not throwing up by midnight.

WTF? George Zimmerman was found NOT GUILTY. American justice is insane.

I don’t think I can write any more tonight. My head hurts, my feet hurt, I’m having a spasm in my left hand and I think I need to watch something funny on TV. Maybe White Cargo (1942), a hilarious drama about hateful men working at a sweaty African rubber plantation at the turn of the 20th century starring Walter Pidgeon, Richard Carlson and — last but not least — Hedy Lamarr as a spray-painted, sex-starved native tart named Tondelayo. Cinema at its finest.

We’re expecting a lot of weather over the next few days! Apparently there’s a dumbass storm front moving across the United States in the wrong direction — i.e., east to west — that’s expected to bring thunderstorms and heavy rain to the Dallas area. Glorioski, people ... rain in Texas! The stormy crap is expected to start Sunday (along with much cooler temperatures) and continue through the end of the week. A screen shot of our forecast from Weather.com appears below in case you think I’m making this up.

Thanks for stopping by. Don’t forget to turn out the lights when you’re done here, okay?

Drugs that cause leg cramps and other useless information for seniors.

Show of hands. Is anybody besides me sick of all the email from AARP? I get at least one a day — usually it’s more like three — packed with uninspired and meaningless crap written by a staff of eager twentysomethings who think they know what’s really important to seniors. Trust me, sweetie, I’m not interested in your favorite TV shows, the latest antioxidant news or tips for choosing comfortable shoes. And I’m especially not interested in AARP’s new job search feature, which is essentially an oxymoron. Jobs? Why in hell would retirees be searching for jobs? WE DON’T NEED NO STINKING JOBS!

Other hot topics featured in AARP’s recent emails include:

• “America’s 5 Happiest Cities” (Madison, Wisconsin? Seriously?)
• “Raquel Welch: Beyond the Cleavage” (Holy crap.) 
• “9 Exciting Winter Salads” (“Exciting” and “salads” don’t belong in the same sentence.) 
• “Bean Soups Can Keep You Warm” (Only if you pour them on your lap.) 
• “Drugs That Cause Leg Cramps” (Next: Emails that cause migraines.) 
• “Dips You Can Feel Good About” (I never met a dip I didn’t love.) 
• “How To Avoid First Date Disasters” (Easy answer: Just stay home with a battery-powered toy.) 
• “Do You Have Pre-Diabetes?” (Nice try, but I already have REAL diabetes.)

The Howdygram is thrilled to report that a proposed referendum to allow casino gambling in Texas is beginning to pick up steam. According to State Senator John Carona, big casinos, race tracks and Native American groups have agreed to support his constitutional amendment allowing 21 casinos across the state and development of a Texas gaming commission. He says Texans currently spend more than $3 billion every year at casinos in Louisiana, Arkansas and Oklahoma, so why not keep all that dough right here in the Lone Star State to create jobs and revenue. Do you know what this means? PENNY SLOTS AND SUGAR-FREE PIE CLOSER TO HOME! Glorioski!

I just ordered a nice big dinner from China City, although I’ll bet you’re not as excited about this as I am. (It’s okay. I won’t be upset.)

Euless rhymes with clueless.

It’s been two whole days since my last post, and so much time has elapsed that I almost don’t know where to start! I’m guessing the best solution would be a chronological list of activities, so here goes.

Thursday. Sam and I had a swell breakfast at Denny’s with Senior Scrambled Eggs followed by a visit to the Dallas Museum of Art, where we viewed lots of ancient South Seas tiki statues with big penises, Renaissance paintings, 2,000-year-old earrings and a gallery of modern art that included chairs, dinnerware from Macy’s and a plastic wall unit. Our car alarm went off in the underground garage.

Friday. We wanted to eat lunch at Main Street BBQ in Euless — they have a brisket buffet and all-you-can-eat pickles! — but our plans turned to crapola when their lot was so packed we couldn’t find anywhere to park. So we used our GPS to zoom in on a Chinese restaurant about two miles away, a hole-in-the-wall called Uncle Chen’s in a nondescript strip mall that probably didn’t serve more than half a dozen walk-in customers a week because their business is almost 100% delivery. Our meal included mediocre hot & sour soup with plastic spoons and no napkins, shrimp with snow peas for Sam and shrimp egg foo young for me that was amazingly reminiscent of the Cantonese-style egg foo young I used order at Nankin Restaurant in Skokie in the mid-1960s. Uncle Chen’s was extremely clean and they have good parking and free egg rolls. We’d probably go back if it wasn’t so damn far.

A photo of Uncle Chen’s appears below followed by a map that indicates: A) Howdygram headquarters in Mesquite; and B) Uncle Chen’s in Euless. Euless rhymes with clueless.

We’ve also been enjoying some classic old movies this week, such as Charles Laughton’s cartoonish performance in The Private Life of Henry VIII (1933) and wonderful Walter Huston in Dodsworth (1936), which is one of our all-time favorites. Dodsworth is right up there with Ben-Hur minus the lepers and chariots.

And now, at last, it’s time to hit the sack. Please look out for sinkholes and thank you for reading this!

I deserve Mongolian chicken because I’m doing laundry tonight. Also because I’m starving.

So far this has been a seriously stupid day. In case you care, Sam got home from work at 5:15 this morning. We talked for a few minutes when he came to bed, but I could tell he was too wide awake to unwind so after a few minutes I got up and migrated to the chaise in the family room for a couple of hours. Sam eventually woke up at 9:30 after only four hours of sleep and looked genuinely not so great when he went back to work at 1:15 this afternoon. He should’ve called in pooped today. Holy crap.

Remember Stormageddon from yesterday’s Howdygram post? It never materialized, a statement that should come as no surprise whatsoever to anybody who expects a reliable forecast from the lying sacks of poo at Weather.com. Around 4:30 this afternoon we had five minutes of rain, five minutes of thunder, a light breeze and a refreshing drop in the temperature from 75° to 60°. BFD.

I tend to bounce back quickly from disappointment, however. This has been an excellent day for bargains on Amazon.com, where I purchased all of the following essential crapola: 1) 24 boxes of wintergreen TicTacs for (are you ready?) only $12.13, which is three whole bucks LESS than I usually pay for a dozen; 2) a stainless steel coffee scoop for — wait for it! — scooping coffee; 3) a set of four 32-ounce plastic tumblers so I can finally enjoy extra-large Marcytinis; 4) a shitload of Charmin; and 5) that’s it. The only thing that could make this even better is Mongolian chicken, which I’m considering seriously at the present time. For the record, I deserve Mongolian chicken because I’m doing laundry tonight. Also because I’m starving and haven’t eaten anything since 11:15 this morning.

Thank you for reading this. Pass the soy sauce.