You know, I did not grow up to be June Cleaver. Does anyone really think that it is practical to go sleuthing around barns and clock towers in cashmere twin sets and pearls?

Certainly not! How is anyone supposed to take me seriously in crinoline and taffeta? Do you know how long it takes to get blood stains off of saddle shoes?

You want to solve a mystery? Then tell me why “Carolyn Keene” keeps changing her identity, but I can’t.

Today I am trading in my bobby socks for a leather jacket and black finger nails. Have you seen the money they’ve made on that Swedish. . . what’s her name? Lisbeth Salander, that’s it. Steig Larson based her on Pippi Longstockings. Seriously? Friggin’ Pippi got to grow up cooler than me? Not fair.

I want a tattoo, an awesome one. No, I want a ‘tat’ because I am cool like that. That’s right. I can get jiggy with it. I spent time in the Mystery Machine with Shaggy and Scooby, if you know what I mean.

Take that, Pippi! I got a degree in down wif it sistah.