A Serious Warning To My Friends

This is from the electronic mail bag

To all my friends:

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 getting scary. My body was being replaced one section at a time.
How clever and diabolical these fiends were!

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 Julia Roberts 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.