Shirley MacLaine. Who really likes her except for some grandma's who have dreamcatchers in their kitchen windows and a couple of men in who've held some creepy crush for her since the mid 1950's and will tell you "She hasn't age a bit in all those years" (that from an actual conversation I overheard one day while drinking in an old guy bar just a little after noon time when she appeared on the TV screen talking about her brunch with martian or some shit)? Ummm...yeah, you might want to get your glasses checked ya old coot.
Maybe things are different in Austria. These Shirley MacLaine's don't look like an ole' Granny Sandalwood though I'm sure the "I've been retired for 15 years and after close to 50 years at the mill I HAVE THE RIGHT to stink like stale Blatz and Swisher Sweets if I want to" would leer at them and say something like "Why don't you move to California with all the other fruits and nuts" (though with not any irony in the statement) if you didn't too.
"Ain't no Sissy Mary here, Salty and Red. Just spying with an eye inconspicuous y'know."
Then they'd laugh in haggard bordering on a bronchitis cough, pat you on the back and offer you up for buying the next round.
Standing on a 3 pointed border of the Shaggs proto-trash gawkiness, the bubblegum chug the Donnas before Darrin R decided to change the label from Radio X to Super Teem and a piece of cement where the little sisters of Lightning Beatman frolic (Yeah, I know Switzerland and Austria are different countries but what are the borders marked by? A wall of cocoa and sausage maybe?) the Shirley MacLaines bring a bit of bright colors to a usually black-n-white xerox'd party. Not too much color though cuz that would make them power-pop or new wave. Two handheld casette recorder with a condenser mic-fi tunes-"Hey Girls" a choppy call to arms cuz it's time to party and "Television Sucks" which makes the Ramones sound like rocket scientists.