She is the epitome of antidisestablismentarianism. I find her to be the dopest flyest OG pimp hustler gangster player hardcore motherfucker.
― Oops (Oops), Friday, 7 February 2003 17:39 (twenty-two years ago)
no no, Sara Vaughn is someone different.
Shortly after she was born in the outback of western Australia in 1973, and in a tragic flip-flop of a touristy cliché, Sara Vaughn's parents were eaten by dingos. Vaughn, reportedly quite hirsute, even in infancy, was then raised as part of the dingo pack.
In early 1985, Sara was discovered by a National Geographic video crew and brought, for the first time, to civilisation, where she was adopted by Irwin Vaughn, a nightclub owner of ill-repute. Not three months later, Sara made her singing debut at her adoptive father's club, Squidges. With a bizarre, lupine moan and a repertoire of 1930s children's songs, Sara was an immediate hit. Vaughn rushed her into the studio for what would be the first of 8 record-setting albums in Australian music sales.
In the summer of 1995, after ten solid years of constant touring, Sara Vaughn disappeared. Disturbingly, since then, Irwin Vaughn has denied all knowledge of her even when faced with photographic evidence.
We may never know what happened to that hirsute howler, but we'll always have her records.
(from Allmusic.com)
― Horace Mann (Horace Mann), Friday, 7 February 2003 20:08 (twenty-two years ago)
But we'll always have the tribute album featuring that touching Jonathan Richman cover of "Fiddle-di-doo."
― Amateurist (amateurist), Friday, 7 February 2003 20:16 (twenty-two years ago)
Not to mention her duet with Sam Kinison on "Yes! We Have No Bananas"
― Horace Mann (Horace Mann), Friday, 7 February 2003 20:19 (twenty-two years ago)