No One Stops Traffic Like Angelyne
Because when her osteoporosis causes her to slightly toot her booty out, grilles get wrecked! She should come with orange cones and a detour sign she's so fiery hot.
Los Angeles makes me uneasy. I'm pale and kinda pudgy and every time I've been there, I've felt like a glowing orb of dough. Here in Boston, everyone's fat and drinks a lot. It's comforting. Also, we don't have earthquakes. We do, however, have faulty air conditioning on the T this summer. My apologies to everyone that I have showered in my sweat in the past three months while riding to work. A visual aid: It's like that scene in Flashdance when Jennifer Beals' stand-in dumps the water all over herself and twerks it wet. Because I was wearing a g-string and pasties, too.
I'd feel so much better about LA if I'd ever had the intense luck to have an Angelyne sighting. She's like finding a crumpled $20 in a pair of clean jeans or living in Mobile, Alabama and spotting the leprechaun!
When an individual who looks like Mrs. Slocombe from Are You Being Served's mentally ill daughter gently alights onto the LA streets wearing Jan Crouch's pink weekend merkin on her head and every piece of make-up in her vintage Caboodles on her face, you bow down. You help her pump her gas, and you buy a t-shirt from the trunk of her signature pink corvette.
And if you're really enterprising, you sneak yourself into that trunk when she drives away. Because you know this gem is a hoarder and she must hoard some AMAZING shit at her assuredly sparkly yet depressing condo. Wigs, cut-outs of herself, costume jewelry, inflatable furniture, all of her deceased pets taxidermied and dyed pink, and every deep, dark, and dastardly secret Hollywood ever had. Why would you not go?
Improve your day by checking our more pics of Angelyne in the gallery.