WARNING FOR ALL WOMEN !
This is a heads up to those friends who haven't experienced it yet, and
an explanation to those friends and family who have. Most of you have
read the scare-mail about the person whose kidneys were stolen while he
was passed out. Well, read on.
While the kidney story was an urban legend, this one is not. It's
happening every day. My thighs were stolen from me during the night a
few years ago. It was just that quick. I went to sleep in my body and
woke up with someone else's thighs. The new ones had the texture of
cooked oatmeal.
Who would have done such a cruel thing to legs that had been mine for
years? Whose thighs were these and what happened to mine? I spent the
entire summer looking for my thighs. Finally, hurt and angry, I resigned
myself to living out my life in jeans and Sheer Energy pantyhose.
Then, just when my guard was down, the thieves struck again. My butt was
next. I know it was the same gang, because they took pains to match my
new rear end (although badly attached at least three inches lower than
my original) to the thighs they stuck me with earlier.
Now, my rear end complimented my legs, lump for lump. Frantic, I prayed
that long skirts would stay in fashion.
It was two years ago when I realized my arms had been switched. One
morning I was fixing my hair and I watched horrified but fascinated as
the flesh of my upper arms swung to and fro with the motion of the
hairbrush. This was really getting scary. My body was being replaced one
section at a time. How clever and fiendish.
Age? Age had nothing to do with it. Age is supposed to creep up,
unnoticed, something like maturity. NO, I was being attacked repeatedly
and without warning. In despair I gave up my T-shirts. What could they
do to me next?
My poor neck disappeared more quickly than the Thanksgiving turkey it
now resembled. That's why I decided to tell my story. I can't take on
the medical profession by myself.
Women of the world, wake up and smell the coffee. That really isn't
plastic that those surgeons are using. You KNOW where they are getting
those replacement parts, don't you?
The next time you suspect someone has had a face "lifted", look again.
Was it lifted from you? I think I finally found my thighs...and I hope
Cindy Crawford paid a really good price for them!
This is not a hoax. This is happening to women in every town every
night. WARN YOUR FRIENDS.
P.S. I must say that last year I thought someone had stolen my breasts.
I was lying in bed and they were gone! As I jumped out of bed I was
relieved to see that they had just been hiding in my armpits as I slept.
Now I keep them hidden in my waistband.
This is a heads up to those friends who haven't experienced it yet, and
an explanation to those friends and family who have. Most of you have
read the scare-mail about the person whose kidneys were stolen while he
was passed out. Well, read on.
While the kidney story was an urban legend, this one is not. It's
happening every day. My thighs were stolen from me during the night a
few years ago. It was just that quick. I went to sleep in my body and
woke up with someone else's thighs. The new ones had the texture of
cooked oatmeal.
Who would have done such a cruel thing to legs that had been mine for
years? Whose thighs were these and what happened to mine? I spent the
entire summer looking for my thighs. Finally, hurt and angry, I resigned
myself to living out my life in jeans and Sheer Energy pantyhose.
Then, just when my guard was down, the thieves struck again. My butt was
next. I know it was the same gang, because they took pains to match my
new rear end (although badly attached at least three inches lower than
my original) to the thighs they stuck me with earlier.
Now, my rear end complimented my legs, lump for lump. Frantic, I prayed
that long skirts would stay in fashion.
It was two years ago when I realized my arms had been switched. One
morning I was fixing my hair and I watched horrified but fascinated as
the flesh of my upper arms swung to and fro with the motion of the
hairbrush. This was really getting scary. My body was being replaced one
section at a time. How clever and fiendish.
Age? Age had nothing to do with it. Age is supposed to creep up,
unnoticed, something like maturity. NO, I was being attacked repeatedly
and without warning. In despair I gave up my T-shirts. What could they
do to me next?
My poor neck disappeared more quickly than the Thanksgiving turkey it
now resembled. That's why I decided to tell my story. I can't take on
the medical profession by myself.
Women of the world, wake up and smell the coffee. That really isn't
plastic that those surgeons are using. You KNOW where they are getting
those replacement parts, don't you?
The next time you suspect someone has had a face "lifted", look again.
Was it lifted from you? I think I finally found my thighs...and I hope
Cindy Crawford paid a really good price for them!
This is not a hoax. This is happening to women in every town every
night. WARN YOUR FRIENDS.
P.S. I must say that last year I thought someone had stolen my breasts.
I was lying in bed and they were gone! As I jumped out of bed I was
relieved to see that they had just been hiding in my armpits as I slept.
Now I keep them hidden in my waistband.
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