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Too many women are inclined to forget that they have feet until something happens to call their attention to them. A beautifully formed foot is as charming to the eye as a beautifully shaped hand. Every woman should have a knowledge of the practical facts which make for her physical beauty.
Shoes have much to do with preserving or distorting the natural foot outline, and in this connection several practical facts should be remembered. First, that every woman's shoe should be broad enough to let her toes rest flatly and naturally on the sole. Second, that a low heel throws the weight of the body on the instep. If you feel that broken arches are a slight penalty to pay for tottering about with the silly helplessness of a footbound Chinese woman of the old type, by all means wear highheeled shoes.
If you will have "French" heels — and to the average man a woman looks ridiculous in them, though politeness bid him disguise his feelings — there is nothing more to be said. Do not wear old shoes about the house. They will make your feet shapeless. The dyes in cheap stockings often run. If you have a slight skin abrasion or a cut, you may get blood poisoning. Hence pay more for your stockings (silk, lisle or silk and wool) rather than risk infection.
FOOT MANICURING
Always cut your toenails straight across, using a nail clip, or nail scissors. Ingrown nails always result from cutting away the corners of the nail which support its forward part. If you smooth the nail edges with emery, a good deal of darning will be saved.
FOOT AILMENTS
Calluses.—Calluses very often develop on the sole of the foot. They also form on the toes, where they turn into hard corns, or between the toes, where they become soft ones, and are capable of causing severe pain. Like bunions, flat feet and fallen arches, calluses and corns are a logical result of the wearing of tight or ill fitting shoes.
Good corn plasters give relief. There are also good acid solutions for corns, but they must be applied to the hard skin of the corn only. It is best, however, to have a good chiropodist remove corns, since he is able to take out their core. The "vascular" corn (made up of small blood vessels), which is less common, should always be taken out by a chiropodist.
Bunions.—Bunions are beyond proper home treatment. They are produced by pressure on the big toe, causing inflammation of the second toe joint. A preliminary callus turns into enlargement of the joint, and, in many cases, motives much suffering, and inability to wear a shoe. If the shoe pressure which causes the bunion be removed, the callus will disappear, but not necessarily the bunion. When bunions are long standing it is not always possible to cure them permanently. A bunion should at once be referred to a chiropodist.
Ingrowing Nails.—Their origin has already been mentioned. Treatment should consist in bathing in hot water, then raising the injured portion of the nail, and inserting pieces of lint or absorbent cotton as an artificial support. Then scrape the nail longitudinally. The lint or cotton support must be renewed from time to time, until the nail has reverted to normal. If a proud flesh condition has developed it will be best to go at once to the chiropodist, instead of attempting a cure yourself.
Flat and Fallen Arches.—Both these foot troubles are beyond any home treatment. Fallen arches, once they have definitely dropped, cannot be completely cured. Both diseases, in most cases,result from improper footwear, high heels, and shoes wrongly balanced, and each and every case usually needs individual treatment.
Chilblains.—Chilblains, one of the most common of foot disorders, can usually be cured at home. It comes from cold or frost, and does not start in feet which have a good blood circulation. Soaking the feet in hot water, rubbing and massaging with warm spirits of rosemary and turpentine, and exercise are the remedies. Exercise, especially, restores the circulation, and alleviates the redness, the burning feeling and the intolerable itching which are the signs of the ailment.
FOOT PERSPIRATION AND PERSPIRATION IN GENERAL
Foot Perspiration.—Perspiration we associate more directly and more perceptibly with the feet than any other part of the body. There is a reason. There are more perspiration glands in the feet than anywhere else on the body, save in the palms of the hands. Daily bathing, night and morning, is the best preventive of excessive foot perspiration. It is well, when you are thus troubled, to add a little alum to the water (it should be warm), and after drying to powder the feet with boracic powder. Or, if you prefer, use a soothing lotion for "feet that are weary" and perspiring, made up of equal parts of alcohol and witch hazel. Hot water, however, is a sovereign specific for all sweaty feet.
Perspiration in General.—We are perspiring all the time. Our perspiration glands are constantly throwing off the waste matter of the body, and bathing serves the double purpose of keeping the pores open so that this matter may be discharged, and removing it in order that no disagreeable odors result from its presence. The soles of the feet, the armpits, at times the forehead, chest, and neck are perspiration centers.
Perspiration is usually not excessive when a woman is in good general health, or when it is not a result of violent exercise or unusual temperature conditions. But when it is habitual and unchecked it robs a young woman or girl of all that charm of daintiness and appeal which is her right and privilege. There is no odor more immediately and more resentfully noticed than that of dried perspiration. It clings not only to the body, but to the clothes. Perfumes and scented powders do not hide it, and it always awakens disgust.
Frequent bathing, frequent change of undergarments and stockings, and a free use of talcum powder or "odorono" are all indicated. Never imagine that the use of talcum instead of soap and water will do away with this unhappy scent. After washing, always and invariably after washing, is powder to be used. The poet has coined the phrase "honest sweat." But there is no such thing as "honest sweat" in feminine beauty's bright lexicon of charm. Perspiration, especially at evening affairs, dances, etc., steals away that natural freshness and fragrance of aura which should surround woman.
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I really don’t know how to say this any other way. My dog decided to talk to me the other night and he had a lot to say.
It initially played like any other night really. Once again, I was tossing and turning, in and out of sleep. I was half awake, mulling over my job situation: I want to make money writing but I need an income more. Then the most bizarre thing happened.
“Hey human Bob! This is your best friend speaking! Wake up!”
Who the hell was that? It was a deep, low voice; strong and certain with a hint of a bourbon induced slur. Sounded like Dean Martin actually. I immediately sat up. It was pitch black. The radio clock blurred 3:53 in a dull crimson light. All I could make out was the shadowy outline of Parker, my trusty beagle, sitting upright at my feet.
“Hey boy, did you hear that?” I whispered instinctively. “Someone’s in the house.”
My vision was starting to warm up to the darkness. Parker just stared back at me, his head tilted, his long ears hanging to the side of his head like hand towels on a wall. He turned his head to the bedroom doorway, lifted his nose to the night and sniffed. He turned back to face me.
“Don’t think so.”
I swore Parker spoke but it couldn’t be. I mean his hound drawn lips seemed to move to the words I heard but that was impossible.
“Who’s there?” I yelled into the night. “Whoever it is, I am warning you that I am at this moment retrieving my loaded double-barrel twelve gauge from under the bed. I will shoot you. So leave now and I want to hear the door slam behind you.”
I made some dumb noises in a lame attempt to fool the intruder into believing what I had just proclaimed. I took the ruse to the next level.
“Okay. I’m fully armed and about to call 911 from my fully powered cell phone. Oh yeah, strong signal, four bars. Oh yeah, this is going to be a very clear 911 call.”
“You’re breaking me up. Put the phone down human Bob.”
It was Parker talking. I was certain of it. Nah, it had to be a sick trick.
“Okay, good one Steve. You wired up the dog with a little speaker. Very funny.”
My brother Steve was known to go to great lengths to pull off pranks. But I was pretty sure he was at his apartment in the city, sixty miles away, God knows doing what, and at 48 years old, unlikely to suddenly bother me with a prank—it had been 25 years since his last one. But the mind scrambles to the most implausible scenarios when so duly challenged.
“Don’t think so. Nope it’s me, Parker,” the dog mumbled.
I was positive he spoke again. By now I was sitting straight up, leaning towards him. He just sat there and looked at me with those big dark eyes. His poker face was on.
“Parker? Are you talking to me?”
“Well I’m not talking to myself.”
I leaned back against the headboard. He yawned.
“This can’t be. I’ve got to stop watching Animal Planet.”
“Listen, I’ve got something to say and I’m not sure how long this talking stuff is going to work so …”
“You are talking!” I interrupted incredulously.
“Should you want I bow wow?”
“Holy cow! Parker you are talking.”
“Yup. But I’m not sure for how long. So can I say a few things before …”
“I can’t believe this.”
“Yeah I know. Either can I but if you don’t mind.”
I looked at him with a giant smile plastered across my face. Parker can talk. The dog was talking. Who was I kidding? It had to be a prank. He continued.
“I’ve been listening to a lot of that talk radio and that C-SPAN channel you watch while you write. I’m here to tell ya I don’t like what I’m hearing.”
“You’re kidding me right?”
“Afraid not.”
Oh this was good. I was really hallucinating. Talk-shmalk, I had a few nagging questions of my own.
“Hey, can I ask you something before you get to your stuff?”
“Make it quick. I haven’t got all night.”
“You like smell things a hundred times more than we do, right?”
“Four hundred.”
“Okay, four hundred. Wow! Then I really wonder about this.”
“Yeah I know. Why do we like to sniff every morsel of excrement or yellow patch of urine we encounter on our walks?”
“Now that you bring it up, yeah, why? It must smell like the inside of Dick Cheney’s or Ted Kennedy’s septic tank? And you know how much crap they’re filled with.”
“That was a funny one human Bob. But it isn’t like what you smell. We pick up a lot more notes. It’s a broader pallet if you will. We don’t smell stink. We smell identity, mood, and illness. For instance, you know that crazy cairn terrier down the street?”
“Yeah.”
“She has stomach cancer and her humans don’t have a clue.”
“You are kidding me?”
“She probably has less than six months if they don’t get her to a vet soon.” He paused to lick his right front paw. “Yeah, and another thing. Don’t take me out at nights for awhile.”
“Why?”
“Cause there is a rabid possum living under the porch. That’s why.”
“You know this from the smell of possum poop?”
“Excrement.”
“Whatever.”
“Yup.” Parker yawned as if bored. “So is that it? Can I say what I need to say?”
“Well there is that thing you do with that licking your, you know, your …”
“Penis?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Jealous are we?”
“Well, it’s just that …”
“It’s all about keeping clean. Nothing pleasurable if that’s what you’re driving at. Nothing like what you do with your hand. By the way, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t pet me afterwards. Nope, no pleasure; it’s all business. You made sure of that when you had me “fixed”, remember. Thank you very much.”
“Oh yeah, sorry about that. I had no idea you knew any different.”
“No idea my butt. I’ll ‘no idea’ ya.” He paused again to lick his right paw again and then continued. “But I don’t hold it against you. We don’t hold grudges. Heck, if we did, we would have mauled most humans dead by now. Which brings me to why I am talking to you.”
“No grudges. Really? I mean that “fixing” stuff is pretty serious. That’s pretty good if that doesn’t bother you.”
“You done? Can I get to my concern?”
“Sure. Sorry. Go ahead.”
“How can humans be so smart supposedly, while they single handedly are destroying the Earth?”
“You mean global warming?”
“It’s more than that. It’s the air. It’s the water. It’s the dirt. It’s the forests. It’s the killing. It’s the anger. It’s the hate. It’s the grudges. It’s the fear. It’s everything.”
“Oh come on. You’re being a little dramatic.”
“We don’t know dramatic.”
“Well give me examples of what you mean.”
“First of all, the air is filled with danger. Dogs, cats, birds, animals of all kinds can smell it. It is our biggest topic when we get together.”
“I don’t smell a thing.”
“Yeah, that’s part of the problem. And you can’t taste the troubled water either.”
“Scientists don’t seem to be complaining. So I should be listening to a dog?”
“We have no agenda. Dogs call it as they smell it.”
“ ‘call it as they smell it’; I’m suppose to just accept that?”
“Yeah, there is a lot you should just accept.”
“Oh yeah, like what else?”
“Well, and here is what I think is the crux of the problem, you keep choosing the wrong alpha humans.”
“What?”
“You’ve got this alpha thing all wrong. Just because animals order their packs based on physical size and strength doesn’t make it so for humans. We do it because we are simple. You do it because you are thoughtless. That’s what we, and I think it is fair to say I am speaking for all animals, don’t get. Humans are able to think things through. But they never do. Well, that’s not completely true; some have but they are mocked or marginalized.
An alpha dog barks and gets all puffy, like that wacky shepherd Sarge from around the block. The worst he can do is break out of his electronic fence and charge one of us. But you humans take it up a notch.”
“Can you give me a for instance?”
“God there are so many. Let me see. Okay, you’ve elected a president who pounds his chest and walks around like a gorilla with its arms all out to the side, all tough and all, carrying on with ‘bring it on’. When he jumps the fence, he brings tanks and bombs and humans loaded down in weapons and in body armor. Meanwhile, you have alpha males all over the place, flexing their muscle in their packs, threatening to obtain nuclear weapons, the great equalizer, giving the president one excuse after another to hop the fence. It’s nuts. And I for one am telling you, you’ve got it all wrong.”
“Well, I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything. Just start picking the right alpha humans; humans whose visions see beyond fighting, whose hearts hold no grudges, whose thoughts and reasons are not the products of testosterone, whose collective knowledge is rooted in the concept that true peace is never the consequence of war but the outcome of constant learning, negotiating and adjusting.”
“This is what you want to tell me? Nothin’ for nothin’ but it’s a little heavy for a little chat with a dog at 3:30 in the morning.”
“In a nut shell, yeah.”
It was hard to accept this from my beagle. I mean, he’s a dog; a sleeping, eating, sniffing, crapping dog. I was chalking this whole episode up to stress. I was apparently snapping.
“That’s it. I’m pretty much done. Just one last thing while I have the chance.”
“What? World hunger? String theory?” I asked sarcastically.
“You get the right alpha humans and the world hunger thing will take care of itself, smart ass. As far as string theory, who do you think I am, Hawking? I’m just a dog. No it’s more pedestrian than that, something I think you can manage.”
“Then what, already?” I asked impatiently.
“You know that thing you do occasionally where you empty the dish washer in the buff.”
“Ummm … yeah I guess.”
“Put some clothes on. It’s disturbing. I’m beggin’ ya, please!”
“All right, but only if you lick your privates in private.”
“I’ll see what I can do. No promises.”
“So this is it? No more talking? You know we could make a fortune on Letterman with his stupid pet tricks.”
“It’ll never happen. You see, this is a one time deal. Not sure why or how this is happening. Maybe that God guy is involved somehow. All I know is that when it is done, it is …” He abruptly stopped talking.
“Parker?”
Not a grunt. He yawned and as he did he stretched his front legs out and spread across the foot of the bed, his ears resting flat on the blanket.
“Parker … are you done? Is that it?”
He slowly closed his eyes and floated off to sleep.
“Parker … just like that?”
He began to twitch; in hot pursuit of a fox I imagined.
“Holy smokes. I must be dreaming myself.”
I curled back down under the safety of my covers, scratched my butt and thought about the conversation I had just had with Parker or myself or both. I sniffed the air. It smelled fine to me. What the heck was he talking about, ‘danger in the air’? It had to be a dream.
As I drifted off to sleep, I thought about getting a real job real soon, apparently this writing stuff was getting the best of me. I also made a point to remember to talk to the owners of that crazy cairn terrier. I thought it was the least I could do. One can’t be too dismissive of the unexplainable these days.
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CHAPTER ONE: The Attack of the Little People:
TORONTO THE GOOD:
Toronto is one of the world’s most secure and wonderful cities and there are few social systems as good as we have in Canada. My name is Robert Bruce Baird and I live in Parkdale where my parents lived and where I spent the first two years of my life. Circumstances or co-incidences see me researching my books at the same library where my father read almost every book while his grandfather worked long and hard to create the union in an era when that was a meaningful contribution to society and the world. It is a new building and I am sure there are many more books. I can remember him saying he would get the librarian to bring in many books that he wanted in addition to the complete works of Shakespeare, Shaw and the Britannica. He imparted a true Joy of Learning in me that I have never lost. But I am fifty-five years old and I have given up on the materialistic society I once excelled at to the point that I was a self-made millionaire by the age of thirty. I am a proponent of a spiritual and ethical approach to matching assets and responsibilities to actualize plans such as full technology usage in the vein of Galbraith and Bucky Fuller or the Club of Rome. You might already have gathered that from the quotes I began this book with, if you know Bucky’s work. Toronto was one of the places Bucky spent a lot of time.
Friday February, 23, 2006 seemed like many other days at the start. I had finished another book called Phoenician Makers of the Bible and Much More a couple of days before. I was continuing work on two other books but taking it easy as the Winter Olympics from Torino provided me with a lot of entertainment. I was thinking about when I should re-contact best-selling author Jim Marrs about his offer to do a forward for my book titled America’s Assassination and Aspirations. Jim wrote the book that the movie JFK is based on, in part. He is a long time correspondent of mine and we have both given each other some helpful research since I started writing and participating in the World Wide Web. He has said he will do this in the spring so I decided to wait until the end of March; but as you will shortly see I might be in jail at that time.
After depositing my Canada Pension Plan and Ontario Disability Support Plan (ODSP) checks in the bank I went back to the Group Home I self-admitted myself to about seven years earlier. The ODSP check is for about $33. and I could live on my own and get more money from them. They pay my landlord about $500. a month in addition to my rent of $543.30. My spendable income is less than $200. a month with a tax rebate amounting to about $550. a year which I use to get my books in the market or to do research on artifacts sent to me by fellow researchers. I went to the smoking lounge to watch the Olympic coverage and to see how many medals Canada was adding to their already historic medal count.
Minh the Mighty:
There is a long history of activism in regards to my involvement in the Group Home or Hospital and Prison Without Walls that I live in. When I came here in January 1999 the home was owned by Mrs. Carmen Carter whose husband had died a short time earlier. He was a Seventh Day Adventist minister and leader and she is from a wealthy Jamaican family. She had been a psychiatric nurse and was on Mayoral Committees and they had donated the land that Branson Hospital is located on and the city was asking for more of the land to expand that hospital upon as I remember. Mrs. Carter said I was sent by God and other such things. At first I tired to help the mentally challenged and victimized people of the larger community. I established Bridge Clubs and Euchre Tournaments with the help of a COTA (Community Occupational Therapy Associates) worker named Catriona. I organized a newsletter and paid for the printing myself. Catriona said that her bosses liked it and they would distribute it. Habitat Services checked it out in advance and also indicated they would distribute it but the self-help and groups I was promoting created a problem for one of their Directors who had pursued his adopted son into the ‘consumer survivor’ community and these homes for over sixteen years.
His son was cross-dressing and was diagnosed as having Multiple Personality Disorder. In one four or five hour session with me he opened up more than he had ever done with all his social workers, psychologists and psychiatrists during that sixteen years. I discovered someone in his family had taken lit cigarettes to his penis and other such travesties of morality. His step-father was the Director of Habitat that we were dealing with and though I never met him in person he began slandering me. The newsletter was never delivered and we stopped making it after three months. This young man had a sister adopted by the same family. This family is very wealthy and I can only imagine that they would not want this can of worms opened up given the fact that the young girl had run away and she had been involved in the sex trade. These are common symptoms of the Cycle of Violence and incest and the system does not wish to address those problems directly because parents are often the victimizer and they are the voters as well as the fact that it would be hard to help all those who have been abused. C. Everett Koop as Surgeon-General of the United States said it was an epidemic. I was involved in a personal mission to help these people in the US for at least nine years including a year when I lived with a noted Doctor of Psychology who was my ‘twin’ (born the same day as me).
I eventually stopped actively reaching out to help people when various other acts of psychiatrists and hospitals made it clear I was black-flagged and they would not support my efforts. I continued to help as I could in my own home. Mrs. Carter had developed Alzheimer’s or something like that and she had sold the home to Peter and Kelly about a year and a half before the confrontation that is the cause of this effort or explanation.
In the week leading-up to Minh attacking me one of the people I had helped had moved out of the house. His name is Peter Lye and he would have been able to provide me with a good witness to what happened and the police constable would have been more hesitant to do what he did if Peter had been there. I am pretty sure Minh knew this and began to try to get me at this juncture partially because Peter was no longer there. Peter had held the door open over a year earlier when I threw Minh out the door from some distance. Minh is anorexic and less than half my weight. He and his crack-smoking lover who had been squatting in his room for most of that month had forced us to take action and involve the police on more than one occasion. At that juncture Philip (his lover) had bumped me with his chest and I was about to throw him out when Minh came to his lover’s defence.
So when I returned from doing my banking and started to watch the Olympics Minh came into the smoking lounge and turned the station on the TV. Minh does not smoke cigarettes and I do not know if he personally does the cocaine and crack that was often done by his male lovers in his room. A year earlier had seen the end of him going into the street and bringing as many as six lovers a day into his room as well as other thieves, prostitutes and low-lifes. At this juncture I had seen the medal update and there was nothing I really needed to watch; and even though others might have liked to continue watching and Minh had not asked for a vote – I went upstairs to work on my books and web communities.
Later in the day I returned to watch the hockey game between Finland and Russia. Minh came in and turned the station and was still moving it despite my asking him not to. I got up from the couch and went to the TV. I grabbed his hand and because the TV knobs are missing and we have to stick our fingers into the holes where the knobs used to be I had to move his hand backwards rather than merely slap it away. I did not look to see what happened when I threw his hand backwards as I started to return the TV station to the game we were watching.
Minh punched me in the eye from behind. I continued to get the TV onto the right station as well as continuing to smoke a cigarette in my other hand. He may have hit me more than once but am not sure when each aspect of my wounds and chucks of hair lying on the floor occurred. I do remember getting on top of him while still smoking my cigarette and him yanking a huge lock of hair from my head. I do not have a lot of hair up top but I am trying to be humorous in mentioning that. It was at this time that he stuck his fingers into my eye socket and I became concerned. I stood up and got hold of his head. I pushed his head down towards his knees and gradually got him to where I could sit on a chair even though he continued to punch at my lower extremities. I had my left hand under his chin and my right hand on the back of his head at the base of the skull or the top of his neck. He continued punching me even though he must have known I could have broken his neck easily at this juncture.
There have been other incidents where I did not call the police when Minh hit me and I think he knows that I am a person who will not hurt other people unless I have to. In this instance I called for the staff person who we call Cliff to phone the police because I thought this would rise to the level of being worthy of an assault charge what with seeing my hair on the floor and knowing I was bleeding near my eye. There are legal uncertainties about what is allowable for tenants, owners and other rights including whether or not the law for hotels or motels, or apartments apply. This uncertainty had existed even when the house got good police service while Mrs. Carter paid the Benevolent Association and up to $500 a month to various police causes; while avoiding payment of duty on her American-registered Mercedes Benz with Texas plates that had been given to her when her son died around the same time her husband had passed on. Peter and Kelly refused to pay the Benevolent Association when asked to do so but there is no proof which clearly establishes the nature of the ‘protection racket’ they run. The art of SPIN and deception is not limited to journalism or politics.
A TOUGH HOMBRE:
When the police arrived my friend Mel was at the door holding it open for them. Melvin is a black man who served two tours in Vietnam including a black ops base in Laos or Cambodia as an aircraft technician. He became a drug addict in Vietnam but he has beaten the habit in the last four years with the help of Peter and myself as well as others. I asked the policeman if I could leave Minh in his care so I could rest after a long period of adrenaline rush and energy spent restraining his. I sat down in my usual place on the corner of the couch with the table between me and the lady cop I later learned is named Caroline. She took information including my ID from my shaking hands while I explained to the constable what had occurred.
Incredibly the policeman said he would not be pressing any charges as he felt it was just a fight despite the evidence to the contrary. I explained my role in the house even though I was pretty sure he had been there before at a time when things were especially rough and a parolee who was threatening everyone had defecated on the floor in front of the kitchen door to get back at the staff. I explained that I had done everything according to what many cops and the owner thought was the proper way to handle such a confrontation but that we still needed further clarity from the courts as to the legal position we were in vis a vis the different labels that might be legally interpreted as applicable to the situation. He said I was no lawyer and that he was no “Average Joe” and preened his ego along with using words of a purple nature. I responded with the same words and told him I wanted a judge to decide and that I did not need his opinion or that of any other cop due to the established uncertainty. I also said that if there were no charges laid against Minh that would necessitate people using force to protect themselves. He said I was “Threatening”. There is a legal charge that could go along with that. He asked Cliff (Who I think had just came by and quickly left. His son had been killed in the previous two years while acting as security for a downtown bar.) for his opinion and Cliff muttered something about having nothing to say.
I pointed out that the owners were not paying the ‘protection’ and that his threats of sending me to jail did not bother me. I like Jail or I could certainly say I have learned a lot in jail as you can see from my appendix number one. I probably told him about that article titled The Man Who Loved Jail which has been on the web for some time. The situation continued with us repeating our positions until he asked me to go outside. I got up and was near the door when he first laid hands on me. I told him there was no need to get physical. He continued and I braced myself on the door jambs with my legs apart. I remember his first punch to my kidney did not hurt and I remember him saying to his partner “Take him down”. I let them wail on me for a minute or more and kept saying I was not resisting arrest but rather I was insisting on it.
I do not recall him asking me to go to the floor in the small room but I could see that might end the charade so I went onto the floor on my hands and knees. He pounced upon me on the left side of my body and the lady cop went to my fight and grabbed my hand which was under the table. His weight on my shoulders and neck did make it hard to breathe when I was face down on the floor and I told them I was not resisting but I would have to move so I could breath. They could not prevent me from doing any movement I wished to do. I would imagine I weigh as much as the two of them do together. I was on my back with my hands out front to the side so she could put the cuffs on and he was on top of me screaming obscenities and asking me if I could breathe better as he had both hands on my neck. I think he was trying to choke me but he was unable to do it.
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Candidates for breast enlargement surgery are almost any women who are unhappy with the appearance of their breasts. Breast enlargement surgery is a way to provide breasts with improved shape, size, and firmness so that women can be happy about the way they look.
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It used to be so easy. All you needed was a thick mane of tousled auburn locks, high cheekbones and a determined little chin; add an ounce of determination and an event from your past that haunts you still. Then, wham! You were the perfect fictional heroine.
But now it’s not so simple. With television shows like Grey’s Anatomy and Ally McBeal, books like Bridget Jones’s Diary and Good in Bed, and movies like Miss Congeniality and Legally Blonde, we’re getting all sorts of mixed messages over how the ideal woman is supposed to be. What’s a modern girl who wants to hold herself up to impossible standards to do?
Simple! Just follow these guidelines, and you’ll be as witty, complex and neurotic as the rest of them. In other words – you will be the perfect, modern-day fictional heroine.
Step 1 – Be Flawed
This step is super easy, because come on, we’re all already flawed anyway, right? Right! Except for one little catch. It is necessary to adopt the correct flaws, and these three are non-negotiable.
1.) You must be self-involved. This includes comparing your own petty personal problems to things like death, war, and injustice, and finding some sort of unique parallel no matter what the situation may be. It also includes having a constant inner dialogue with yourself where you point out these parallels with witty commentary. For example: “Even the news reminded me of him. Yesterday I saw this report that said routine circumcision in Africa could prevent 300,000 deaths in the next ten years. What a shocker! Chopping away at a guy’s penis could help eliminate pain, loss, and heart-ache. What will they think of next?”
2.) You must have issues with food. If you plan to be a television or movie heroine, this means that you cannot eat. Period. If you plan to be a book heroine, this means that you must eat all the time, except when you’re not eating, and then you should be thinking about eating. I strongly recommend the second option.
3.) You must become preoccupied with an unhealthy relationship. This includes but is not limited to, relationships with boyfriends, friends, mothers, fathers, roommates, and exes. Especially exes.(And make sure that your ex is dreamy, preferably with a new girlfriend who is in no way as good for him as you were.)
Step 2 – Practice Retail Therapy
Today’s modern day fictional heroine realizes one fundamental truth – that there is no problem too big or too small that cannot be remedied with shopping. Again, there is a catch; you need to be careful of what you go shopping for. Hard and fast rule – anything that’s practical or cheap is out. Other than that, I have provided you a list of approved shopping items, with the most highly recommended items on top, and continued in descending order:
• Designer shoes
• Designer beauty products
• Designer chocolate
• Designer purses
• Designer lingerie
• Anything else designer
• Clothes (This is listed as the very last option because although clothes shopping can be a lot of fun, if you happen to have gone up a size, the blow to your ego will be so enormous that it will negate the therapeutic aspect of said retail therapy.)
Step 3 – Have a purpose, deeply question it, then either accept it or abandon it to find a new purpose.
Rather than go into unnecessary detail, I have created a handy-dandy chart. Just pick an option from each column and you’ll be good to go.
Column A
1.You’re a (lawyer, publisher, or banker) and you love the power and money.
2.You’re a (doctor, policewoman, or writer) and you love changing lives.
3.You’re a stay-at-home mom and you love your family.
4.You’re all of the above, and you’ve never been so fulfilled!
Column B
1.It’s all getting to be too much and nobody understands you.
2.None of it means anything anymore and nobody understands you.
3.You wish you could have some time for yourself, and why doesn’t anyone understand you?
4.Is this really what you set out to do? You did major in art history after all.
Column C
1. After meeting the right guy, you decide to chuck it all and live overseas.
2. After falling back in love with the guy you’ve been with for years, you decide to start your own home-based greeting card company.
3. After realizing that the nerdy guy is actually the one for you, you return to your career with a new sense of purpose.
4. Who needs health insurance anyway? You decide to take some time off just to focus on you.
Conclusion:
So you see; it’s really not that hard for truth to imitate fiction. Gone are the days of walking moors, wearing corsets, and dying of consumption. Nowadays all you need is a little attitude thrown in with a barely noticeable social complex. So get your credit cards ready, preheat the oven for those brownies, and start living your life as if everyone can (and wants to) hear what you have to say. A new age has arrived!
