SHE doesn't walk onstage. She insinuates herself. Rotary-drive hips, and fingers that were probably snapping out rhythms in the cradle. Overstuffed bosom beneath a Pucci dress, $450 shoulder-length brown wig, and eyelashes long enough to rake a lawn with. She coolly surveys the scene and lets fly with a sassafras falsetto: "Whoooo-eeeee! Watch out, honey! Don't you touch me! Don't you ever touch me!" Or: "When you're hot, you're hot; when you're not, you're not." Or her trademark: "What you see is what you get."
Nobody who watches television needs to be told...
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