Tuesday, July 3, 2007

Funny, if you are over 35!

A lady at my local Curves shared this funny story with us today. I'm sharing it with some revisions, to keep it rated G. But it's got some universal truths that cracked me up - until I looked in the mirror. Then I just shrieked! Enjoy!

My thighs were stolen from me during the night several 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 have the texture of cooked oatmeal. Who would do such a cruel thing to legs that had been mine for so long? Whose thighs are these and what happened to mine? I spent that entire summer looking for my real 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 their next target. I knew it had to be the same gang, because they took such pains to match my new rear end to the thighs they'd stuck me with earlier. I couldn't believe it, but my new butt was attached at least three inches lower than my original one. What were these guys thinking? Now, my new rear complemented my legs, lump for lump. Frantically I prayed that long skirts would stay in style.

Then, last year I realized that my arms had been switched too. While fixing my hair one morning, I watched with horrified fascination as the flesh of my upper arms swung in perfect rhythm to the motion of my hair brush. This was getting scary. My body was being replaced, one section at a time. How clever and fiendish this ring of burglars was. Age? Age has nothing to do with it. Age creeps up, unnoticed; something like maturity, right? No, this wasn't age. I was being attacked, repeatedly, without warning and quite methodically. In despair, I gave up t-shirts. What could they possibly target next? I shouldn't have asked: my neck disappeared faster than the Thanksgiving turkey it now resembled. That's when I decided to tell my story. I can't take on the professionals alone.

Women of the world: WAKE UP and smell the coffee! That isn't really plastic that those surgeons are using. You know where they are getting those replacement parts, right? The next time you suspect a woman of having something lifted, look carefully. Was it lifted from YOU? I think I finally found my thighs. I sure hope Cindy Crawford paid really well for them!

This is not a hoax, it's happening all over the world, to women in every town, every night. Warn your friends!

Oh! On a hopeful note, I must tell you: I thought someone stole my breasts. I was lying in bed and suddenly they were gone. But when I jumped up to search, I was relieved to find that they had been hiding under my armpits while I slept. Now I tuck them in my waistband for safekeeping!

5 comments:

Mrs. C said...

Thanks for the laugh!

Anonymous said...

G-rated? I don't think I'd let my kids read this.

oh, yeah...what kind of oatmeal?

Anonymous said...

I can so relate to this. First time I saw Angelina Jolie with my body on the cover of People Magazine I was so upset. LOL

Anonymous said...

Oh my gosh. This is too funny! If my husband hadn't been in the room, I'd be laughing out loud. He just wouldn't understand it, though. I am sharing this with my friends.

Beautiful Grace said...

Funny story, thanks for the laugh!!! I often wondered where my body parts were going! :)

You don't know me, I'm Plain and Simple's sister-in-law. I jumped off of Classic Mama's and hers to find your site.

Blessings!!!