I usually wouldnt post these, but I laughed pretty good and thought you would all realy like this.
> Subject: Who Can Identify w/This?
>
>
> Subject: The Class Reunion
>
> I had prepared for it like any "intelligent"
> woman would. I went on a
> starvation diet the day before, knowing that all the
> extra weight would just
> melt off in 24-hours, leaving me with my
> high-school-girl body. The last many
> years of careful cellulite
> collection would just be gone with a snap of a
> finger. I knew if I didn't eat
> a morsel
> on Friday, that I could probably fit into my senior
> formal on Saturday.
> Trotting up to the attic, I pulled the gown
> out of the garment bag,
> carried it lovingly downstairs, ran my hand over the
> fabric, and hung it on
> the door. I stripped naked, looked in the mirror,
> sighed, and thought, "Well,
> okay, maybe if I shift it all
> to the back." Bodies never have pockets where you
> need them.
> Bravely, I took the gown off the hanger,
> unzipped the shimmering dress
> and stepped gingerly into it. I struggled, twisted,
> turned, and pulled and I
> got the formal all the way up to my knees before the
> zipper gave out. I was
> disappointed. I wanted to wear that dress with those
> silver platform sandals
> again and dance the night away.
> Okay, one setback was not going to spoil my
> mood for this affai! No
> way! Rolling the dress into a ball and tossing it
> into the corner, I turned
> to Plan B. The
> black velvet caftan. I gathered up all the goodies
> that I had purchased at
> the drug store; the scented shower gel; the body
> building and highlighting
> shampoo &
> conditioner, and the split end killer and shine
> enhancer. Soon my hair
> would look like that girl's in the Pantene ads. Then
> the makeup - the under
> eye "ain't
> no lines here" firming cream, the all day
> face-lifting gravity fighting
> moisturizer with wrinkle filler spackle; the all day
> "kiss me till my lips
> bleed, and see if this gloss will come off"
> lipstick, the bronzing face
> powder for that special glow...but first, the
> roll-on facial hair remover. I
> could feel the wrinkles shuddering in fear.
> OK - time to get ready...I jumped into the
> steaming shower, soaped,
> lathered, rinsed, shaved, tweezed, buffed, scrubbed,
> and scoured my body to
> a tingling pink. I plastered my freshly rubbed face
> with the anti-wrinkle,
> gravity fighting, "your face will look like a baby's
> butt" face cream. I set
> my hair on the hot rollers. I felt wonderful. Ready
> to take on the world. Or
> in this instance, my underwear
> With the towel firmly wrapped around my
> glistening body, I pulled out
> the black, lacy, tummy-tucking, cellulite-pushing,
> hamhock-rounding girdle,
> and the matching "lifting those bosoms like they're
> filled with helium" bra.
> I greased my body with the
> scented body lotion and begin the plunge. I pulled,
> stretched, tugged,
> hiked, folded, tucked, twisted, shimmied, hopped,
> pushed, wiggled, snapped,
> shook, caterpillar crawled, and kicked. Sweat poured
> off my forehead, but I
> was done. And it didn't
> look bad.
> So I rested. A well deserved rest, too. The
> girdle was on my body.
> Bounce a
> quarter off my behind? It was tighter than a
> trampoline. Can you say, "Rubber
> baby buggy bumper butt?"
> Okay, so I had to take baby steps, and walk
> sideways, and I couldn't
> move from my butt cheeks to my knees. But I was
> firm!
> Oh no ... I had to go to the bathroom. And
> there wasn't a snap crotch.
> From now on undies gotta have a snap crotch. I was
> ready to rip it open and
> re-stitch the crotch with Velcro. But the pain
> factor from past experiments
> was still fresh in my mind. I quickly side stepped
> to the bathroom. An hour
> later, I had answered nature's
> call and repeated the struggle into the girdle.
> I was ready for the bra.I remembered what the
> saleslady said to do. I
> could see her glossed lips mouthing, "Do not fasten
> the bra in the front, and
> twist it around -- put the bra on the way it
> should be worn -- straps over
> the shoulders, bend over and
> gently place both breasts inside the cups."Easy if
> you have four hands. But,
> with
> confidence, I put my arms into the holsters, bent
> over and pulled the bra
> down ... but the boobs weren't cooperating. I'd no
> sooner tuck one in a cup,
> and while placing the other, the first would slip
> out. I needed a strategy. I
> bounced up, and down a few
> times, tried to dribble them in with short bunny
> hops, but that didn't work.
> So while bent over, I began rocking gently back and
> forth on my heel and toes
> and I set 'em to swinging.'Finally, on the fourth
> swing, pause, and lift! I
> captured the gliding glands. Quickly fastening the
> back of the bra, I stood
> up for examination. Back straight,
> slightly arched, I turned and faced the mirror,
> turning front, and then
> sideways. I
> smiled. Yes, Houston, we have lift up! My breasts
> were high, firm and there
> was cleavage!
> I was happy until I tried to look down. I had
> a chinrest. And I
> couldn't see my feet. Istill had to put on my
> pantyhose, and shoes. Why did I
> buy heels with buckles?
> And then I had to pee again.
> Think I'll go fix myself a drink and skip the
> %#$@! reunion.
>
>
>
> Subject: Who Can Identify w/This?
>
>
> Subject: The Class Reunion
>
> I had prepared for it like any "intelligent"
> woman would. I went on a
> starvation diet the day before, knowing that all the
> extra weight would just
> melt off in 24-hours, leaving me with my
> high-school-girl body. The last many
> years of careful cellulite
> collection would just be gone with a snap of a
> finger. I knew if I didn't eat
> a morsel
> on Friday, that I could probably fit into my senior
> formal on Saturday.
> Trotting up to the attic, I pulled the gown
> out of the garment bag,
> carried it lovingly downstairs, ran my hand over the
> fabric, and hung it on
> the door. I stripped naked, looked in the mirror,
> sighed, and thought, "Well,
> okay, maybe if I shift it all
> to the back." Bodies never have pockets where you
> need them.
> Bravely, I took the gown off the hanger,
> unzipped the shimmering dress
> and stepped gingerly into it. I struggled, twisted,
> turned, and pulled and I
> got the formal all the way up to my knees before the
> zipper gave out. I was
> disappointed. I wanted to wear that dress with those
> silver platform sandals
> again and dance the night away.
> Okay, one setback was not going to spoil my
> mood for this affai! No
> way! Rolling the dress into a ball and tossing it
> into the corner, I turned
> to Plan B. The
> black velvet caftan. I gathered up all the goodies
> that I had purchased at
> the drug store; the scented shower gel; the body
> building and highlighting
> shampoo &
> conditioner, and the split end killer and shine
> enhancer. Soon my hair
> would look like that girl's in the Pantene ads. Then
> the makeup - the under
> eye "ain't
> no lines here" firming cream, the all day
> face-lifting gravity fighting
> moisturizer with wrinkle filler spackle; the all day
> "kiss me till my lips
> bleed, and see if this gloss will come off"
> lipstick, the bronzing face
> powder for that special glow...but first, the
> roll-on facial hair remover. I
> could feel the wrinkles shuddering in fear.
> OK - time to get ready...I jumped into the
> steaming shower, soaped,
> lathered, rinsed, shaved, tweezed, buffed, scrubbed,
> and scoured my body to
> a tingling pink. I plastered my freshly rubbed face
> with the anti-wrinkle,
> gravity fighting, "your face will look like a baby's
> butt" face cream. I set
> my hair on the hot rollers. I felt wonderful. Ready
> to take on the world. Or
> in this instance, my underwear
> With the towel firmly wrapped around my
> glistening body, I pulled out
> the black, lacy, tummy-tucking, cellulite-pushing,
> hamhock-rounding girdle,
> and the matching "lifting those bosoms like they're
> filled with helium" bra.
> I greased my body with the
> scented body lotion and begin the plunge. I pulled,
> stretched, tugged,
> hiked, folded, tucked, twisted, shimmied, hopped,
> pushed, wiggled, snapped,
> shook, caterpillar crawled, and kicked. Sweat poured
> off my forehead, but I
> was done. And it didn't
> look bad.
> So I rested. A well deserved rest, too. The
> girdle was on my body.
> Bounce a
> quarter off my behind? It was tighter than a
> trampoline. Can you say, "Rubber
> baby buggy bumper butt?"
> Okay, so I had to take baby steps, and walk
> sideways, and I couldn't
> move from my butt cheeks to my knees. But I was
> firm!
> Oh no ... I had to go to the bathroom. And
> there wasn't a snap crotch.
> From now on undies gotta have a snap crotch. I was
> ready to rip it open and
> re-stitch the crotch with Velcro. But the pain
> factor from past experiments
> was still fresh in my mind. I quickly side stepped
> to the bathroom. An hour
> later, I had answered nature's
> call and repeated the struggle into the girdle.
> I was ready for the bra.I remembered what the
> saleslady said to do. I
> could see her glossed lips mouthing, "Do not fasten
> the bra in the front, and
> twist it around -- put the bra on the way it
> should be worn -- straps over
> the shoulders, bend over and
> gently place both breasts inside the cups."Easy if
> you have four hands. But,
> with
> confidence, I put my arms into the holsters, bent
> over and pulled the bra
> down ... but the boobs weren't cooperating. I'd no
> sooner tuck one in a cup,
> and while placing the other, the first would slip
> out. I needed a strategy. I
> bounced up, and down a few
> times, tried to dribble them in with short bunny
> hops, but that didn't work.
> So while bent over, I began rocking gently back and
> forth on my heel and toes
> and I set 'em to swinging.'Finally, on the fourth
> swing, pause, and lift! I
> captured the gliding glands. Quickly fastening the
> back of the bra, I stood
> up for examination. Back straight,
> slightly arched, I turned and faced the mirror,
> turning front, and then
> sideways. I
> smiled. Yes, Houston, we have lift up! My breasts
> were high, firm and there
> was cleavage!
> I was happy until I tried to look down. I had
> a chinrest. And I
> couldn't see my feet. Istill had to put on my
> pantyhose, and shoes. Why did I
> buy heels with buckles?
> And then I had to pee again.
> Think I'll go fix myself a drink and skip the
> %#$@! reunion.
>
>
>
uke: 
