Biography of Savannah Lawless
Savannah June Lawless was born on an undisclosed date, in an undisclosed year, at an undisclosed location to indisposed parents. Despite their initial misgivings, Mary and Walter Lawless soon came to dote on their little girl, who was raised an only child.
After an unremarkable childhood, Savannah began winning beauty pageants at age 14, when her substantial bosom was crowned Miss Redeye Gravy of Uptonville, Georgia. That first taste of victory hooked her, and she spent the following summer (with her parents' blessing) hitchhiking around the South, accepting rides from truck drivers and fraternity boys, and entering pageants wherever she could find them. Among the crowns her bodacious bazooms took home were: Metairie Crawfish Princess, Queen Bee of the Tallahassee Honey Festival, and Little Rock Young Miss Teen Bikini and Shimmy Champion.
Savannah dropped out of high school at age 16 in order to pursue a modeling and/or acting career. Her foundation undergarments spread for Sears Roebuck & Co. caused a sensation in the fashion industry and is still considered her best work. This success brought her to the attention of the Henry Ford modeling agency, which signed her to be the “face of Qiana brand doubleknit polyester fabric.” The enormous success of this string of television commercials positioned Savannah's button-popping chest as a hot modeling commodity. In quick succession, she signed to represent such trendy products as shag carpeting, swag lamps and Pop Rocks.
Savannah's career continued to grow along with her mammaries. Then, in the sort of tragic irony that dogs celebrities like Savannah, fate and gravity conspired to relieve Savannah of her livelihood. The day Savannah inked her first major motion picture deal (an industrial film for “nuede” — “It's not suede, it's nuede. Your new washable suede alternative!”), the casting director noticed a…droop. A slight droop, to be sure, but Savannah's bikini top didn't lie: her right nipple had turned distinctly downward. Savannah's film contract was canceled. At age 19, her career was kaput.
Savannah ran home to her then-husband, musician Rory Petcock, for comfort – only to discover the king of the crooner-metal genre had fled, leaving behind divorce papers and a note: “I heard your boobage went south, and so did I.” Feeling humiliated, Savannah secluded herself inside her hip pad in Topanga Canyon and refused to see anyone. To this day, she shuns being photographed due to her disfigurement.
Eventually, however, Savannah was able to get her revenge in the form of a seven-figure divorce settlement from Petcock, and her success in the divorce game catapulted her into a new career. In quick succession Savannah married and divorced and/or was widowed from several wealthy, elderly men who couldn't care less about her wonky bazonga. On the proceeds of these marriages, Savannah has lived for decades as a jet-setting socialite.
After her most recent divorce, Savannah decided to put down roots. She purchased a sprawling ranch in Jimsonweed, New Mexico, where she lived in relative (OK, utter) obscurity until recently. During a girls-only whine session at the local liquorium, Savannah tapped her vast knowledge of relationships to offer a friend some sage advice on how to cope with a cheating husband. And the “Savannah Says” column was born.
Today, Savannah again enjoys popular notoriety as the columnist whose “advice no one should actually take.” Her keen insights into the nature of relationships, as filtered through her Grey Goose-soaked mind, provide comfort and counsel to those who live furtively on the fringes of society — those who wonder if it's unusually kinky to wear an empty ice cream bucket on their head during sex, and those who've gone blind from drinking pure cane alcohol in the jungles of South America to escape entrapment in a romantic relationship. As long as people like this exist, as long as people profess perplexity about life issues, and as long as Savannah's vodka supply holds out, she'll continue to selflessly serve as America's best bad advice columnist.