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ROFLMAO Ouch LOL OwWW !! ROFL Son of a … LOL 🙂
Or, she could break into a rendition of a revised version of Bob Hope’s themesong:
“Thanks for the mammaries. …”
Somewhere in between curing the ill, rolling drunks, and making a corned beef sandwich, I found a little time to call Amy and wish her well…Well, actually, I was calling on behalf of the repossession comapny I work for, but given that her big day was coming up, I thought I give her one more day of enjoying the naugahyde Barca-Lounger, and decided to share my warm wishes instead…
Well, as could be expected, Amy was somewhat worried. I’m sure she was a little worried about the implications of this next big transition ste step, but her greatest concern was that she had not thought of a snappy line with which to regale the assembled post-op staff once she emerged from her miasma…..
I know it’s a bit late, and the moment has since passed, but here are some lines you could have used, which would almost certainly have guaranteed your being smothered with a chloroform soaked rag….
5. “I couldn’t help but notice the lack of an implant under my superfluous third nipple…”
4. “Just to clarify, you did fill these implants with rich, creamy nougat?”
3. “So….now that I have pornstar boobs, when do I get to fellate Ron Jeremy???”
2. “Hey…I was coming here for a breast augmentation, not to get my feet amputated….Wait, there they are….my bad….”
and No 1….
“How come nobody told me after the ultrasound that I was going to have twins….”
Bah-dum-dum, Ching!!! Well, it’s not bad considering I’m not getting paid, and I’m not preternaturally funny….
Anyhoo…hope you’re not in too much pain, and if you are, don’t stop screamin’…..
Laura
Frtunately, I was never confronted with this challenge. “To augment or not to augment” was never the question.
I had mistakenly assumed that my mother’s diminutive cup size would be my legacy. My doctor told me that sometimes the gene pool gets “a bit shallow” from generation to generation and my GRANDmother’s breast size would be my legacy. Both of grand mothers seemed to have been well endowed, and the fruits of their nature were passed on to me.
So, despite all information to the contrary, when the hormones “woke them up,” they just “grew.” They didn’t ask permission, they just kinda “happened.” And, after just so much wearing big shirts, vests and jackets to hide “the ‘B-cup’ girls,” I went “full time.” There was little choice.
Keep us abreast of new developments.
🙂
Delia
I’m thinking of you Amy…Good positive thoughts streaming your way…
love ya sis!
Makenna
Hmmm. A fake ad for fakies??? Perhaps there are real ads for real ones??? Makes me wonder where I’ve been all my life.
No … that’s a fake billboard … check out the site … they’ve got a whole bunch of really funny ones ! 🙂
Yeah … I’m a marketer’s dream !! 🙂
You’ve obviously read Prozac Nation!!!! funny girl – the poster ain’t that bad either. Is that a real poster?
so you saw that and said,
“Gee, Doc, sign me up!”