Sam loves surprise omelets.

Poor Sam finally got home from work this morning at 5 a.m. I opened one squinty eye when he got into bed, mumbled “Is that you?” and don’t remember anything else until I regained consciousness at 8:15. Sam slept until 10, showered, dragged our can to the curb for Thursday trash pickup and went back to work at 1:30. I have no idea when he’ll be able to catch up on all the sleep he’s missed but I’m guessing he’ll be in a stupor most of the weekend. I might make him a surprise omelet for lunch on Saturday. Sam loves surprise omelets. (He also loves mozzarella sticks.)

Hey, people. You have to buy a set of Perfect Tortilla Pans. I LOVE THESE THINGS! I’ve been making big juicy taco salads with low-carb tortillas, shredded lettuce, Thrive taco TVP, hot sauce and little piles of shredded cheese. I had a couple for dinner again tonight and I think they might be the cutest food ever.

You can buy a set for only $10.88 from Wal-Mart.com (best price I’ve seen anywhere, even cheaper than Amazon) plus 97¢ for shipping. This is an excellent deal because you get four nonstick pans in a nice box. Go ahead and place your order right now if you want to. I’ll be glad to wait.

And now, for the ultimate Thursday night entertainment, I thought you might enjoy the following video clip about the weird names people in Utah give their children. These are some of the strangest names on earth. Apparently they leaked far beyond the boundaries of their state, serving also to inspire Sarah “Einstein” Palin in far-off Alaska, who named her offspring Peeper, Pooper, Brillo, Crack and Troll.

Thank you for reading this.

Candlelight sock-folding party underway.

So here’s what’s going on tonight at Howdygram headquarters: NOT A LOT. Sam will be stuck at the office very late tonight, most likely until 4 a.m. Thursday because a group of clients are in-house working on a big freaking project that involves staying overnight in a conference room with cold pizza and no deodorant. Which means I’ve got a lot of time on my hands to work on the new design for my Ovation Creative website, horse around with another Howdygram post and indulge in a few guilty pleasures. These include, in no particular order: 1) a midnight shower; 2) folding a basket of Sam’s socks by candlelight; 3) watching the second episode of The Thorn Birds; and 4) injecting insulin.

All plans are subject to change, however, because I’m unusually tired right now and might conk out without warning. I’m also hungry.

In case you’ve ever wondered who on earth reads the Howdygram, the following visitors map from the last 24 hours ought to satisfy your curiosity. Please wave if you recognize yourself, okay?

Thank you for reading this.

Try my Five-Minute Stupid Soup if you’re in a hurry for hot and tasty food.

Here’s the recipe I promised in my last post! The key is stocking your pantry with wonderful freeze-dried whatnots from Thrive. You should really be shopping there.

• 4 cups water
• 4 teaspoons Better Than Bouillon (chicken, mushroom or beef)
• ½ cup freeze-dried ground beef
• ¼ cup freeze-dried carrot dices
• ¼ cup freeze-dried celery dices
• 1 tablespoon freeze-dried onions
• ½ cup freeze-dried mushrooms
• 8 oz. bag Miracle Rice, rinsed and drained
• 2 teaspoons corn starch dissolved in ¼ cup cold water

Boil the 4 cups of water. Stir in your Better Than Bouillon soup base, all the freeze-dried crapola (feel free to use little handfuls instead of measuring cups) and the rinsed Miracle Rice. After everything simmers for two or three minutes stir in the corn starch mixture and your soup will thicken like magic into an INSTANT MEAL with practically no fat and carbs. Is this brilliant, or what?

Incidentally, if nobody in your family wants to taste your Stupid Soup you have my persmission to enjoy the whole pot all by yourself.

If men were the childbearing gender of our species, abortion would be legal, free and sacred.

I woke up at 4:30 this morning sneezing my fool head off. Because it’s difficult to sleep through a prolonged sneezegasm attack and the resulting nasal clog issues (translation: my head feels like concrete), I decided to haul myself out of bed, drink a peach phosphate and read the latest news about Rick “Einstein” Perry, the medieval right-wing governor of Texas. This time we’ll review Ricky-Boy’s announcement on December 11 that he’s throwing his full support behind a yet-to-be-filed “fetal pain” bill that’s based on questionable but church-approved science. And I use the term “science” loosely here.

Perry said yesterday in his speech to a Jesus-based clinic for women: “This session I’m calling on the legislature to strengthen our ban on the procedure, prohibiting abortion at the point a baby can feel the pain of being killed. We have an obligation to end that kind of cruelty. We will not stand idly by while the unborn are going through the agony of having their lives ended.”

Holy mother of crap. I CAN’T STAND THIS GUY.

With critical statewide budget shortfalls, deteriorating highways and education funding in a shambles, Governor Einstein’s biggest concern continues to be a clump of accidental cells in a woman’s uterus. Somebody should give him a copy of the memo that family planning, birth control and abortion — all of which have been legal medical services in the United States for decades — ARE NONE OF HIS DAMN BUSINESS. It’s not his uterus, it’s MINE. Trust me: if men were the childbearing gender of our species, abortion would be legal, free and sacred.

I need to calm down now. I’m all knotted-up.

Today’s agenda at Howdygram headquarters will include: 1) an ongoing laundry marathon featuring socks, underwear and way too many robes; 2) our biweekly Schwan’s delivery; 3) watching episode two of The Thorn Birds that I recorded last night; 4) making a pot of Marcy’s Five-Minute Stupid Soup; and 5) I can’t think of anything else.

I’ll post my recipe for Stupid Soup in a few minutes so don’t go away. Thank you.

God bless Texas. Is this a crock, or what?

In case you’re wondering why I haven’t written much about our weather lately it’s because we haven’t had any. Today was really cold; tomorrow will be a smidgen less. That’s about all I have to say on the subject because there’s still no precipitation in the forecast and we’ve only had half an inch of rain since mid-October. This explains why our cattle are enjoying greener pastures in Oklahoma for the duration of the drought. Heartbreaking, isn’t it? I miss the big lugs. (I also miss rain.)

Before I get carried away with tonight’s breaking news I thought I’d post the latest edition of our Holy Crap Gallery, this time featuring a pair of celebrities with and without makeup. Next time you think you look lousy in the morning, picture Goldie and Kathy.

And now for tonight’s breaking news from Texas! Apparently Governor Rick Perry and his remedial right-wing legislative yahoos finally understand the birds and the bees. After de-funding Planned Parenthood during the last session —yet another attempt to outlaw abortion — and cutting $76.5 million from the state’s budget for essential family planning services to 285,000 poor women, they’ve all suddenly realized there will be 23,760 more babies born in Texas by 2015 than if these women had been given access to birth control. And the cost of all those extra babies in state funds will be an estimated $273 million, mostly from additional Medicaid costs. So now Governor Einstein is scrambling to figure out how to add back funding for family planning, which is no easy feat because the de-funding process is nearly complete and the state’s network of clinics and physicians has been dismantled. God bless Texas. Is this a crock, or what?

Take a guess which blockbuster 1980s mini-series is on Encore this week. Give up? The Thorn Birds starring Richard Chamberlain, Rachel Ward and Barbara Stanwyck! It’s been at least 25 years since I’ve seen it, and every raunchy minute is still burned into my brain. I CAN’T WAIT. I might even force Sam to sit through it. If I volunteer to make homemade tacos maybe he’ll manage to stay awake.

The Thorn Birds tells the 50-year saga of a family in Australia’s outback. Meggie falls in love with her priest (oy) and the situation creates so much angst for the people in her orbit that your screen could melt. Even if you’re not into chick flicks, The Thorn Birds is worth every minute of your time if for no other reason than to watch scene-stealer Barbara Stanwyck at age 76 in her last role as matriarch Mary Carson. She won an Emmy for this part, primarily for an unforgettable segment where she tries to seduce Richard Chamberlain.

I assume Sam is working late tonight because he should have been home about half an hour ago — duh! — so maybe I’ll take a nice hot shower and watch a little TV while I wait for him to call and tell me what’s what. Thank you reading this, and I hope you’re still having a very happy Hanukkah.

Happy Hanukkah to everybody celebrating tonight in Latkeland.

We had lunch yesterday at Alfredo’s Steakhouse in Forney, Texas. We’d been driving past it for years on our way to other restaurants and finally decided to give it a shot once we noticed the parking lot was full at an odd time of day. Now we know why! Alfredo’s is NOT a trendy restaurant that’s trying to act like a 1950s diner; IT’S THE REAL DEAL where all the food is made from scratch by Alfredo himself with his own two spotless little hands. They’ve got huge portions, Flintstone-size dinnerware, retro prices, adorable round dinner rolls and pour real gravy on practically everything. Sam ordered a breakfast burrito for $4.99 that could have been the centerfold for this month’s issue of Popular Obesity. They even have liver and onions. LIVER AND ONIONS! We can’t wait to go back because Alfredo’s is only 15 minutes from home and we want to try everything on the menu.

For your possible interest the following map indicates: A) Howdygram headquarters; and B) Alfredo’s Steakhouse on U.S. 80 in Forney.

Incidentally, we almost got to meet Alfredo but he was too busy to horse around in the dining room with customers. I tried to find a photo of him online but had no luck, so here’s a picture of Cesar Romero instead.

Weather.com says there’s a cold front heading for Dallas tonight, which explains why my knees were stiff as a board when I woke up this morning and why I decided to stay in bed for an extra hour and skip our planned junket to Costco. I sent Sam by himself to load up on some of our favorite crapola, which included: 1) a gigantic jar of shockingly-tasteless dry-roasted peanuts; 2) a two-pound tub of rotisserie chicken salad; 3) a carton of Angus 100% beef fully-cooked char-grilled hamburger patties; 4) a couple of overstuffed calzones; and 5) a large package of sliced pepper jack cheese. Sam said he got really excited at the checkout when he realized he might be getting out of Costco cheap this week except at the last minute they tacked on our annual membership renewal and loused everything up.

The Howdygram would like to extend its warmest wishes for a happy Hanukkah to everybody celebrating tonight in Latkeland. Thank you and shalom.

This just in from our Sports Desk! The Irving, Texas, police have reported that Cowboys linebacker Jerry Brown died yesterday in an early morning car crash, and Cowboys nose tackle Josh Brent was charged with intoxication manslaughter in Brown’s death after ramming into a curb at high speed and flipping his vehicle while driving drunk. I’m not saying this is an excuse or anything, but if I tackled noses for a living I’d probably get plastered, too.

I have no agenda for the rest of the evening except for dinner and a hot shower. Since Sam is asleep in the family room (his third nap today) and showing no interest whatsoever in food, I’ll probably be dining alone unless you’d like to drop in for a while and watch The Shop Around the Corner starring James Stewart and Margaret Sullavan. Let me know so I can turn on the driveway light.

East Indian potato latke recipe combines dinner and mouthwash.

It’s the crack of dawn, and judging from the strange crap in my head right now I guess I’ll be writing an all-food Howdygram post. Could be worse, right?

First up, here’s an interesting video from Foodbeast that shows you how to jazz up your food like a fifth-grader with do-it-yourself shaker jars of pulverized Doritos, Flamin’ Hot Cheetos and barbecue potato chips. Know what? This doesn’t sound half-bad to me.



Don’t look now, friends, but tonight’s the first night of Hanukkah, the Jewish Festival of Grease! In case you’re interested in a real down-home celebration I found a few recipes online that may fit the bill.

Potato Latke Pizza. Dry yet tasteless crust covered with apples, goat cheese, sour cream and potatoes. Trust me, it’ll never be a hit on campus. [Get recipe here.]

East Indian Potato Latkes. Made with hot peppers, cilantro, mint — mint?! — and enough oil to float the Israeli navy. An interesting way to combine dinner and mouthwash. [Get recipe here.]

Fried Pasta Salad. Rock-hard, deep-fried bow-tie pasta slathered with a scary blend of pesto, marinara, Italian salad dressing and mayo. Make enough for your office party and lose a few friends! [Get recipe here.]

Deep-Fried Reuben Egg Rolls. Stuffed with pastrami, sauerkraut and Swiss cheese. The sandwich of my nightmares — there’s nothing I hate worse than sauerkraut and Swiss cheese! — is Jewish/Chinese fusion for the 21st century. Kill me now. [Get recipe here.]

For the record, we won’t be eating any of this crazy shitsky at Howdygram headquarters because Sam and I prefer our own traditional Hanukkah fare, including tuna salad, Vlasic sugar-free bread & butter pickles, ice cream, peach phosphates and Tex-Mex. You can come for dinner if you want to.

If I hadn’t choked down a few spoonfuls of peanut butter at 7:15 I’d probably be unconscious by now.

Earlier today I get a “concerned and sober” email from our irritating right-wing representative in Congress — Jeb Hensarling — politely requesting: 1) my permission to stonewall the White House on fiscal cliff negotiations; and 2) my candid opinion about the economy. I ripped him a new one instead. Here’s the comment I posted to his website:

Don’t back any fiscal deal unless it includes a higher tax rate for the top 2% and NO CUTS to Social Security, Medicare or Medicaid. House Republicans are a joke, Congressman. Try to represent your entire constituency for a change, not just the handful that agrees with you. I’m a senior citizen who will qualify for Social Security next year and for Medicare three years after that. I’ve worked all my life for these benefits. You already have yours; now it’s MY turn.

I hope he has nightmares tonight. An accurate cartoon of his goofy face appears below.

I’m making a solemn vow. Next time I try to order from China City online and their website acts like it’s having a nervous breakdown I will immediately defrost a couple of hot dogs and not waste an hour and half sitting in my front foyer STARVING TO DEATH. Holy crap, people, I placed a nice order online around 5:35 tonight and injected my mealtime insulin at 6, expecting China City’s doofus driver to show up within half an hour. Didn’t happen. At 7:50 I finally call the restaurant to ask where the hell is my Mongolian chicken and they tell me the order never came through. Truth is, if I hadn’t choked down a few spoonfuls of peanut butter at 7:15 I’d probably be unconscious by now.

The nice lady apologized profusely in broken English (at least I think she was apologizing), took my order over the phone and promised to deliver it ASAP. I hope they don’t screw this up because I received a shipment today from Netrition.com with SUGAR-FREE SWEET & SOUR SAUCE and I’m planning to douse everything as soon as it gets here, not including soup and fortune cookies.

Sam and I are counting on an excellent weekend that includes all of our favorite recreational activities, including naps, food, more naps, a few good movies, a week’s worth of “People’s Court” episodes and a drive in the country, not necessarily in that order. Feel free to join in if anything interests you, okay?

Happy Hanukkah from the Howdygram!

Remembering Kim Jong Il and his tyrannical “parka of destiny.”

Sleep deprivation has its moments. I woke up at 5 a.m. to start designing a new logo for Ovation Creative (in case you missed yesterday’s breaking news, I’m redesigning my website) and wound up instead writing this post for the Howdygram. I should probably go back to bed at some point but I’m sure I’ll be fine regardless because I’ve got TicTacs for energy and half a Marcytini.

It seems that North Koreans are preparing en masse to commemorate the first anniversary of Kim Jong Il’s death (read my original post) on December 19. A moving tribute yesterday by North Korea’s state radio station referred to the miserable tyrant as “a peerless sage of mankind, possessed with warm humanity, broad magnanimity and noble sense of moral obligation.” Seriously? North Koreans are starving to death! The announcer also included homage to the dead dictator’s beloved “threadbare and discolored” parka, describing it as “an incredible witness of history.” The announcer added: “His parka was that of a great father, with which he kept all the people on this land from snow, rain and cold.” Holy crap, man … it’s a jacket.

For your possible interest the Howdygram is pleased to post the following photos of hysterical historical significance from our North Korean News Desk.

Before I forget, today is Pearl Harbor Day and you should check out all the swell war movies on TCM, including They Were Expendable (1945) — my personal favorite — at 7:45 a.m. Central time starring John Wayne and Robert Montgomery.

I think I’ll head back to bed now and pester Sam. Thank you for reading this.

This kind of crap gives me hives.

The voice of reason prevailed this morning. Sam successfully convinced me that I don’t deserve a $7.99 haircut from a salon that’s probably run by high school students on work release. I’m sure he’s right. Except now I’m stuck with all these valuable coupons! Feel free to clip as many as you want, but you’ll have to fly to Texas to use them. (Depending on the cost of airfare this might not be such good deal after all.)

Don’t look now, but illiterates walk among us. They’re everywhere. If you don’t believe me, try to pay closer attention to everything you read online. The following photo was part of a slideshow this morning on NBCNews.com, and this was the caption below it: “Prince William, Duke of Cambridge, and Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge, walk hand in hand from Buckingham Palace the day after their wedding to a waiting helicopter.”

For the record, this kind of crap gives me hives. Show of hands ... does anybody besides me see the problem here? THE DUKE AND DUCHESS WERE NOT MARRIED TO “A WAITING HELICOPTER.” It’s dangerously similar to a convoluted phrase like “throw me over the fence a shovel” and provides ample proof that news websites need to hire a few trained editors. The caption should read: “The day after their wedding, Prince William, Duke of Cambridge, and Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge, walk hand in hand from Buckingham Palace to a waiting helicopter.”

Hey, Einsteins ... CAPTIONS ARE JOURNALISM, TOO!

Thank you for letting me unload. It’s time for lunch now.

Introducing Pizza Hut perfume in case you want to smell like dough and spices.

Sam called from work about an hour ago to let me know he’s buried in projects and will be home “very very late.” Judging from past experience this could mean anything from midnight to 4 a.m., although it’s not likely I’ll be able to wait up for him past 2 because I’ve had a hard day doing practically nothing and need a good night’s sleep.

Know what? I had a brainstorm tonight ... I think it’s time to redesign my Ovation Creative website! I haven’t made any changes for at least three years so this is a project that’s long overdue. I like the idea of a new look once in a while but it’s hard to convince my clients to give it a shot when I never bother to do it for myself. The first step is a new logo. Come back often for additional news bulletins and the big unveiling, hopefully before the first of the year.

As long as I’m into makeovers I think it’s also time to do something different with my hair. I received a local mailer today with coupons for cheap and potentially shitty haircuts at Great Clips Salon on Cartwright Road. I’ve never been to Great Clips before — and the concept of a $7.99 haircut is moderately frightening — but I’m positive they can’t be any worse than the Asian stylist who made me look like Moe in drag a couple of months ago. For your possible interest the map below indicates: A) Howdygram headquarters; B) Great Clips Salon; and C) the world-famous Mesquite Championship Rodeo, which has nothing to do with this story in any way whatsoever.

In case you’re still stymied about what to buy that special someone for Hanukkah, the Howdygram would like to recommend a bottle of Pizza Hut perfume in your choice of Pepperoni or Super-Supreme. This initially started as a prank on Pizza Hut’s Facebook page but turned into the real thing after enough morons signed up as fans. Apparently the limited-edition scent smells like pizza dough and spices. (As long as it doesn’t smell like our delivery driver, I’d be okay with it.)

For the record, this was actually a limited-edition promotion by Pizza Hut’s marketing team and there are no more bottles available. You might want to go with something from Estee Lauter as a second choice.

Many of you may be aware that an organization of right-wing lunatics here in Texas — still frothing about President Obama’s re-election — want us to secede from the United States. (Stop laughing.) Aside from the fact that secession is both impossible and illegal, about 250,000 whack-jobs have signed up so far on the movement’s official website, which resembles an online ransom note. Sadly, they don’t seem to realize their numbers will never make even a teeny dent in the state’s population of 26 million. In the meantime you might enjoy the following infomercial from YouTube.



Thank you for reading this.

Cosmopolitan Magazine, turning your daughters into prostitutes.

Hello from Marcy’s Wonderful World of Laundry. While my favorite sheets are dancing through the final spin cycle I’d like to take a quick Howdygram detour by offering the following observation. Until today I was positive there was no publication on earth more revolting than Bowhunter Magazine, but I was wrong. Cosmopolitan wins.

I don’t know why, but I just started receiving a free two-year subscription to Cosmopolitan Magazine that I’m unable to cancel no matter how hard I try. (Trust me. I’ve tried.) The November issue appears above, featuring countless stories about breasts, orgasms, how to get a sexy ass, times when it’s okay to be skanky, how men really prefer your buns, 25 ways to kiss a naked man, where to buy boots with “baditude” so you can walk all over people, and enough “crazy-hot sex facts” to fill a football stadium. Oh, plus 72 pages of lip gloss ads and pictures of Heidi Klum.

I’m ready to put a gun to my head. This is all such embarrassing horseshit I might have to wrap it in plain paper before I throw it in the garbage.

Speaking of embarrassing horseshit, John Boehner, the GOP’s weeper of the house, is apparently under fire from all sides right now for being a card-carrying jerk.

President Obama is refusing all of Boehner’s counter-offers on the fiscal cliff negotiations and fellow Republicans in Congress are having a collective cow that Boehner is booting their favorite right-wingers from key committees. I don’t know about you, but I’m having fun watching the GOP implode. This is almost better than “Hardcore Pawn.”

And now, for a change of pace, I think I’ll eat dinner, take a shower and ponder cleaning up the kitchen so my maid service won’t have a heart attack tomorrow morning. I’ve been kind of sluggish and unmotivated for the last couple of days. Okay, lazy. But I’m primed to make a comeback. I’ll get those counters cleared off even if it kills me.

Thank you for reading this.

Eatzi’s: the only place to shop for a “couch picnic.”

Guess what we did yesterday. Sam and I both woke up at 5:30 in the morning STARVING so we went to Denny’s for a pre-dawn breakfast adventure, during which Sam ordered a nice little omelet and I had a hamburger. This was almost like being back in college except for the cane propped up against my chair and the fact that we asked for our senior citizen discount.

About 12 hours later we drove into Dallas to gawk at Christmas lights in the Highland Park neighborhood but I think we were a couple of weeks too early because all the houses still looked like Scrooge lived there. So we wound up at Eatzi’s — we love Eatzi’s! — to load up on wonderful Sunday night noshy crap, which included: 1) hummus; 2) Greek olives; 3) a container of unidentifiable yet colorful dip; 4) cole slaw; 5) two kinds of house-made salami; 6) a slab of havarti cheese with dill; 7) a twice-baked potato large enough to be mistaken for sports equipment; and 8) a loaf of rye bread. Items 7 and 8 are Sam’s private property because I’m diabetic and can’t eat 2,500 carbs any more just for fun. (But at least I get to watch.)

The fun here never ends. A few days ago I mentioned my three deadbeat Ovation Creative clients whose credit cards were declined last week for a routine monthly web hosting payment. I emailed first notices and second notices to all of them. One finally responded on Sunday afternoon with a tale about somebody stealing his Visa and using it to shop at Bloomingdales, and then sent a second email five minutes later with a new credit card number ... and that one was declined, too! If this stupid dude wasn’t in South Carolina I’d kick him in the pants. Instead I’ll just add a $2.50 service fee to his monthly hosting payment and continue threatening his life long-distance.

The other two clients are ignoring me. They’ll be sorry.

You know what? I’ve been gypped. I’m searching online for Hanukkah background photos today so I can make holiday cards and almost all of them include pictures of JELLY DOUGHNUTS. Jelly doughnuts? Did you ever get jelly doughnuts on Hanukkah? What the hell? Not once in my entire life did anybody ever give me jelly doughnuts for Hanukkah, and NOW IT’S TOO DAMN LATE BECAUSE I HAVE DIABETES. This sucks and I thought you should know. Thank you.

It’s nearly 7 p.m., and before I run out of time and motivation I think I’d better get busy with all the important projects I’ve been postponing today. Making the bed is included on this list. (Stop laughing. Better late than never, right?)

Shalom.

I’m really fond of the Valley of the Lepers.

It’s early Sunday morning here in Howdygramland. The house is quiet, Sam is asleep and I’ve got TicTacs and a nice Marcytini to keep me company. It just doesn’t get much better than this. (Okay, sometimes it does.)

From our What the Hell Were They Thinking department comes my review of a little-known film called The Iron Petticoat (1956), an unfortunate, British-made cold war comedy that might be the worst movie ever produced. It’s a Ninotchka wannabe starring — brace yourself — BOB HOPE and KATHARINE HEPBURN. Seriously. Hepburn is a humorless Russian air force defector named Captain Vinka Kovelenko who wears medals to bed, brushes her teeth with a rag and has an accent so hideous you’ll be tempted to stab yourself in the head with an ice pick. Hope plays ladies’ man Major Chuck Lockwood and manages to throw in every sarcastic comedy gag from the Bing Crosby “Road” pictures. Apparently both stars realized the movie stunk before it was even finished and Bob Hope pulled it from public access for more than 40 years. (Too bad it didn’t stay there.)

After we watched the aforementioned Hope-Hepburn suckfest Sam made me promise to choose a quality movie, so we opted for Ben-Hur (1959) and loved every sweaty, inspirational minute of it.

My favorite scene is when Judah comes back from Rome in that gorgeous “young Arrius” outfit and pops in with a dozen sweet rolls to surprise his old friend Messala. (I might be kidding about the sweet rolls.) I’m also really fond of the Valley of the Lepers and don’t understand why everybody got so upset about moving there. I thought it looked nice.

In case you’ve been wondering about our weather in north Texas at this time of year, it was a balmy 80° on Saturday with more of the same forecast for today and Monday. Not bad for the first week of December! On the downside, however, we haven’t had any measurable rain around here for MONTHS. According to an article I read online last night, 94% of the state is abnormally dry, 55% is in severe drought, 25% is in extreme drought, our water storage reservoirs are only 64% full, 75% of our ranch cattle have been moved out of state and 45% of our winter wheat crop is considered “very poor.” In short, this is very, very lousy. AND IT’S ALL RICK PERRY’S FAULT.

I ordered something new and exciting the other day from Netrition.com. This time it’s a line of low-carb sugar-free crapola from a company in New Zealand called Jok-n-Al. They make apricot sauce (a sweet & sour knockoff), sweet & hot chili sauce, cocktail sauce, plum sauce, cranberry sauce, tomato onion relish and an entire line of fruit spreads. I ordered the apricot sauce and chili sauce. This is hugely exciting on a number of different levels, but mostly because nobody else makes anything remotely like them, I’ve never eaten food from New Zealand and I miss sweet & sour sauce desperately. Please stay tuned for a full report.

I’d better get myself to bed now. Thank you for reading this.

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?

Mitt Romney would never in a million years be an assistant produce manager at Safeway.

Every now and then I get sick of self-employment, and today is one of those days. I’ve got six Ovation Creative clients with automatic web hosting payments due at the end of every month, and this afternoon credit cards were declined for three of them. Deadbeats! The cat-and-mouse game is underway now, involving a cheerful first email to let them know their cards have been declined followed by an appropriate number of semi-snotty “why in hell haven’t I heard from you” reminders until I finally get a response. If, God forbid, there’s no timely response whatsoever, the final semi-snotty email is capped by a full-bore threat to take their website offline and sell their cursed domain to the highest bidder.

I’ve only been forced into annihilation mode three times in recent memory. Trust me, it’s not a pretty sight.

And now for something completely different. I received my new Perfect Tortilla Pan Set today from Bed Bath and Beyond! In a brilliant feat of advance planning I sent Sam to Tom Thumb this morning for some essential ingredients — a bag of nice shredded iceberg lettuce and an extra jar of salsa — so we can eat big crunchy bowls of taco crap this weekend. I’ll try to take pictures but I’m not promising anything.

From our Happy Holidays department, in case there’s a hard-to-buy-for fashion-conscious dude on your Hanukkah gift list the Howdygram would like to suggest a classy outfit from Yoko Ono’s new menswear collection. Ono (inset, below), 79, says her looks are “inspired by John Lennon” and include pants with giant handprints on the crotch, a transparent plastic chest plaque with doorbells, tanks with nipple cutouts and a flashing LED stretch bra. It is important to note that John Lennon is dead.

Think you can you stand another stab at Mitt Romney? The Onion posted this photo a couple of days ago showing a grubby, disheveled Romney in his new post as assistant produce manager at Safeway. Frankly, to me it looks like he’s ready to launch into a chorus of “The Impossible Dream.” You know, like Robert Goulet. I’m just saying.

I should probably mention here that absolutely everything you see on The Onion’s website is satire because everybody knows Mitt Romney would never in a million years be an assistant produce manager at Safeway. He actually supervises the deli.

Thank you for reading this.

Holy crap! Two in a row!

This has been another incredible day at Howdygram headquarters ... two in a row! First, I had leftover spaghetti and meat sauce for dinner again tonight, and second, I received another order from Netrition this afternoon with a couple of products I’m trying for the very first time. They are: 1) a zero-carb meat loaf mix that you moosh into ground beef in lieu of bread crumbs; and 2) low-carb instant tapioca pudding. Tapioca pudding, people! TAPIOCA PUDDING! I’m so excited I could scream! Instead I’ll just post the following brilliant photos of famous people with teeny faces. (Yes, these were Photoshopped. No, I don’t know who did it.) I think Teeny Obama is my favorite.

And now, like it or not, it’s my plan to devote an entire paragraph of this post to the glories of FREEZE-DRIED GROUND BEEF, which is easily the most amazing invention ever with the possible exception of space travel, penicillin and corn pads. I buy the gallon-size can of Thrive freeze-dried ground beef from Shelf Reliance, as pictured below.

These are very nice big crumbles of fully-cooked REAL GROUND BEEF. You only rehydrate exactly as much as you need — as opposed to defrosting your beef by the pound — in about three minutes, after which you can fling it into sauce, soup, casseroles, tacos or birthday cake! (Just kidding about the birthday cake.) Please try this product. Thank you.

In case you missed this in the news, apparently the online version of China’s Communist Party newspaper reprinted a story yesterday from The Onion naming North Korea’s dictator Kim Jong Un as the “Sexiest Man Alive” ... not realizing that it’s satire. On Tuesday The People’s Daily ran a 55-page photo spread on its website with the headline “North Korea’s top leader named The Onion’s Sexiest Man Alive for 2012.” Oy, those wacky Chinese. Won’t they ever learn?

Quoting The Onion’s spoof, the Chinese newspaper wrote: “With his devastatingly handsome round face, his boyish charm, and his strong, sturdy frame, this Pyongyang-bred heart-throb is every woman’s dream come true. Blessed with an air of power that masks an unmistakable cute, cuddly side, Kim made this newspaper’s editorial board swoon with his impeccable fashion sense, chic short hairstyle, and, of course, that famous smile.” HOLY CRAP.

And now, just for fun, it’s time to fill up my pill sorter for the coming week and inject some insulin. I should mention here that I take Atorvastatin, the Lipitor generic manufactured by Ranbaxy Pharmaceuticals that’s being recalled for containing SPECKS OF GLASS. I was further disturbed that the FDA is not instructing patients to return the drug or stop taking it, so I called Wal-Mart when I first read about this and the pharmacist insisted the contaminated pills didn’t affect Wal-Mart stores. Yeah, right.

The Powerball lottery jackpot tonight is half a billion dollars. Half a billion! When you buy your ticket shout “Howdygram!” for good luck, and if you win please send me half. Thank you for reading this.

Shut up and pass the chips.

Even though the weather this afternoon is borderline dismal, you’ll be pleased to know that I’m having a thoroughly excellent day here at Howdygram headquarters for all of the following reasons:

1. I don’t have to go outside.
2. I might make spaghetti and meat sauce for dinner tonight.
3. My knees stopped hurting.
4. The laundry is caught up except for bath towels.
5. I got a shipment yesterday from Netrition.com and their low-carb milk chocolate bars taste EXACTLY like cheap Brach’s Easter bunnies from Walgreen’s. This is so perfect I think my head might explode.
6. I found the following Photoshopped picture of Humphrey Bogart online this morning. Holy crap, I love Google!

There’s some breaking news today from the ongoing David Petraeus scandal. Apparently the government of South Korea has decided to reclaim the “honorary consul” title it bestowed on broke and desperate Tampa party-girl Jill Kelley after they discovered she was using it to peddle influence, such as pressuring New York businessman Adam Victor into a business deal in exchange for an outrageous $85 million commission. Kelley is pictured below, peddling her breasts to Florida Senator Marco Rubio.

For the record, Marco Rubio is another one of those Republicans who believes the earth is only 6,000 years old. According to his official biography, he’s a recent Phi Beta Kappa graduate of the Religious Insanity program at Rick Santorum’s Bullshit University.

Speaking of Republicans and bullshit, my final story of the day comes from GQ Magazine, where they’ve named Mitt Romney one of the “least influential people of 2012” despite 18 months on the national stage and a multi-million dollar campaign running for president of the United States. GQ writes: “Was anyone inspired by Mitt Romney? Did anyone vote enthusiastically for Mitt Romney? Of course not. Voting for Romney is like hooking up with the last single person at the bar at 4 a.m.”

Romney’s GQ list-mates include greasy Food Network personality Guy Fieri, PBS newsman Jim Lehrer, Madonna, Olympic swimmer Ryan Lochte and — believe it or not! — Michelle Obama. In case you’re wondering why GQ included the first lady, they say in spite of Michelle’s “Let’s Move” campaign everybody in the United States is still too damn fat.

I absolutely agree. Now shut up and pass the chips.

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.