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Tammy rules, Barbie drools

I am fighting a cold and while I don't feel great, I think I'm winning the battle, keeping the crud at bay. 

It's still raining. 
Twenty-seven straight days or something like that.  

Did you know Bargie is 50?  All my friends had them, but not me.  I had a Tammy doll.  She was bigger, with flatter feet to fit into sneakers (not molded to fit a miniature version of a 4" pump) and a more athletic build.  I also had a blue Tonka Truck (Tammy's ride) and Lincoln Logs (her house), an Etch-a-Sketch (not for Tammy at all) and lots of games and piles of stuffed animals, but no Barbie.  Never wanted one.  Wasn't the least bit interested.  A fuzzy, talking, gay lion (his name was Larry) seemed more real to me.  I always wanted Operation - "take out wrenched ankle" - but never got it.  Friends had it though, so I got to play a lot.

Alrighty then.  Did I mention that it's been raining?  A mind is a terrible thing to waste.

Right arm.  Farm out.  Dig it.  Peace, love, tie-die, granola and underarm hair.  Oh, here's a hilarious little ditty from The Daily Show on the merits of CNBC's financial advice.  Is no one guarding the henhouse anymore?  

A hui hou.  Aloha!

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