- 23/5/2005 <--Prev : Next-->
The Switch ... 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 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 realised 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. 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.
PS: 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.