OT.....NOT an Urban Legend

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 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
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.

Val

Thanks for the laugh!

Liz


"Valkyrie" wrote in message
news:1114052880.133869@yasure...
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 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
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.

Val