Wednesday, February 6, 2008



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 bod y and woke up w ith

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 spe nt 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 replacemen t part, 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


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.

yep, just got this. it's funny because it's true and yet,now that i'm "there",
56 and heading towards 60, it doesn't matter as much as i thought it might when i did give it any thought way back when.
things have changed so drastically since the late 60's. i can't even count the ways.
it boggles my mind.
so, i will concentrate more on the fact that i am still, "becoming" who i am and less on the cottage cheese thighs that my blue jeans hide quite well(so far)
and tho i still hunt for the PERFECT lipstick and will die clutching an eyeliner in my fist, i'm glad i'm still learning and still here and that i have the chance in the upcoming election to vote for either a woman or a man of color.
i really never thought i'd live to see either option available.

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