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 ass was next.
I knew it was the same gang, because they took pains to match my new
rear end to the thighs they stuck me with earlier. I couldn't believe
that my new ass was attached at least three inches lower than my
original. 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.
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 suddenly disappeared faster 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 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.
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 ass was next.
I knew it was the same gang, because they took pains to match my new
rear end to the thighs they stuck me with earlier. I couldn't believe
that my new ass was attached at least three inches lower than my
original. 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.
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 suddenly disappeared faster 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 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.
