OT Humour: for the middle-aged women on the group.

Jo Firey wrote:
I had to go shopping yesterday. Daughter said I cannot wear jeans, a
t-shirt and Birkenstocks to her wedding. Ungrateful brat (not really).
Also made the mistake of trying on a swimsuit, as I'm unsure what will
happen if I attempt to put to old one on.

At least this explains the person who was in the mirror in the dressing
room. I do not know that person.

Jo


Oh, Jo. The last time I tried on swimsuits I laughed out loud at the
reflection in the mirror.
And, just as a warning to those younger than us, the first sign for me
was suddenly, without warning, I put my arm in a sweater and my
mother's hand came out. It was weird.

Sherry

Christina Websell wrote:
Warning to all women


This is a warning 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.

My thighs were stolen from me during the night of August 3rd 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 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 how 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 eyes began to remind people that they needed to buy a new pair of
Hush Puppies. My poor neck disappeared more quickly than the
Christmas 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?

P.S. 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 were just hiding in my pajama
bottoms. Now I keep them hidden in my waistband.

I forwarded this to two of my aunts, but I fear it may be too late. ;-)
--
Adrian (Owned by Snoopy & Bagheera)
A house is not a home, without a cat.

So that's what happened to me! *lol* Thanks for the laugh...I needed it
today.


"Christina Websell" wrote in message
...
Warning to all women


This is a warning 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.

My thighs were stolen from me during the night of August 3rd 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
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 how 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 eyes began to remind people that they needed to buy a new pair of
Hush Puppies. My poor neck disappeared more quickly than the
Christmas 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?

P.S. 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 were just hiding in my pajama bottoms. Now I
keep them hidden in my waistband.