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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