If we were the sort of people who wanted to be a girl, the sort of girl we’d want to be is Jane Russell. Great hair, big chocolate eyes (and none of your Kraft shit either!), lovely Lindas, tingly singin’ voice, wonderful vagina (we’re guessing), lots of other nice things.
Of respiratory-related illness. Eighty-nine. Which is quite a good innings, to use the cricket analogy. Cricket’s good for analogies.
‘She always said I’m going to die in the saddle, I’m not going to sit at home and become and old woman,’ said Jane’s daughter-in-law. ‘And that’s exactly what she did. She died in the saddle.’
And now for one of our favourite Jane Russell songs. Okay, two. Okay, three.
Bye bye baby.,