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 knew 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
complemented 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. Not only are parts being replaced, someone
is playing a cruel trick. Stiff hairs like a man's beard are appearing on
my face. Oh they are clever! You don't see them until they are over an
inch long and swagging in the breeze.
Age? Age had nothing to do with it. Age is supposed to creep up,
unnoticed, something like maturity. NO, I am 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. This neck belonged to someone much taller as it does not fit at
all and sags terribly.
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 that 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.
