Someone has apparently taken a shine to the shapely prostheses of 16-year-old Melissa Huff, and has gone on to take the object of his affections itself. Twice. In the space of the last four months:
- her first cosmetic limb was stolen
- a replacement was donated by her outraged neighbours
- the original was promptly returned, flung over the garden wall
- peace returned for a while, and the original theft was forgotten, whereupon
- both the original and replacement fake feet were stolen from Melissa’s bedroom, and finally…
- four weeks later, the purloined pins turn up on the back seat of her mother’s car, covered in graffiti
I’m sure the graffiti would make interesting reading. What red blooded male, once in possession of both of a young lady’s false limbs, could resist making the “getting between her legs” joke? I know I couldn’t. But alas no details are offered.
Callous as it might sound, I find it hard to sympathise. What’s the point of having a false leg if you leave it lying around all the time to be stolen? Does she just hop a lot? Now her long-suffering community is getting ready to give her free leg #3. Surely it would be simpler just to hold a whip-round and buy her a burglar alarm, or failing that an inexpensive peg leg and matching parrot combo. At least the parrot could keep an eye on the leg…
Prosthetic legs, yesterday. I hate people who put their feet up on the chair, don’t you?
20 comments:
I suspect Miss Huff may have a secret admirer who has a..um...crush on her legs. After all, nothing in the phrase "foot fetish"demands that they be natural legs. To suggest so is to indulge in crass stereotyping. The notion that a man can only have wet dreams about a girl's natural feet is a mere social construct, one that needs to be unmasked as perpetuating the white male patriarchy.
Um, did I tell you that I live on a liberal campus?
Hi Doc - did you mean hapless or hopless? Don't forget your coat on the way out...
Des, we kind of guessed that. After all, is there any other kind?
Good point Earl, tho' she might be less inclined to complain if she had some way of balancing on said pot. But there we are: into each life a little rain must fall.
Poor Melissa! I suppose the prosthetics are like slippers to us and you don't hide those do you? They have to be handy at all times.
By the way Ivan we are no longer twins - blogwise that is. After a great big bloomer when everything went belly up I now have a beautiful new blog. I still like the honey colour but this is grey-blue.
I'vejust read the comments and think you are all AWFUL!
But we do still have the same hairstyle :)
It may be a stump fetish rather than a foot fetish, Des. I suspect there are quite a few perverts out there who detest feet and thus find their absence arousing.
Same hair style? You have to show me. Please.
I wonder how this spoiled brat can proudly display her three prosthetic legs while landmine-wounded children in the third world have to hop on their good foot. Serves her right.
Well, call me pedestrian but I am saddened to learn that we live in a world where the unfortunate legless cannot leave their prostheses for a minute without some barbarian hot-footing it away with them. (I too have been called "a legless unfortunate" before, although for different reasons, therefore I know something of the stigma the disabled suffer).
And where is Mr. Foot Eater on this issue? More importantly where was he at the time both the heinous gam-pilfering crimes were committed?
I read where she'd recently had an operation on the stump and was bedridden healing when the prostheses were nicked. So no, she wasn't using them.
The article asked the local police whether they knew who was doing it, but apparently they're stumped.
By the way, I'm having a fight with Milady over something she said I said about yoghurt. Please go and insult her for me.
Details on my last post.
Hi Pi - here you go :) Not that you look like that, I hasten to add. I've always been pale, me.
Anon, Sam, good points, well made. I think Footie owes us an answer, tho' in fairness to him his name does imply more of a fondness for real feet than prosthetic ones. Similarly for GB - surely then the fetishist would steal the girl and leave the falsies? "We may *never* know the truth, Scully."
Hey Aunty - you tell her that just because she has a chronic yeast infection doesn't make her an expert on yoghurt. But I'm not going to say it for you - she looks dangerous to me...
Sam and Ivan, your rather bigoted suspicion of me is unfounded. That said, I do sometimes consume prostheses as they're an excellent source of roughage. I would never steal somebody else's, though.
I think the perpetrator is just trying to get his kicks this way. (Yes, I know that doesn't really work, but Dr E. Scientist got in there first with the 'defeated' pun.)
If you eat prostheses but don't steal them, Footie, do you have some of your own or do you buy them from funeral homes?
Actually you'd think funeral homes would give them away, but I suppose anyone who'd nick the suit off Uncle Harry's back as soon as the family are out the door wouldn't shrink at charging for his glass eyeball too...
While the subject is on another subject quite closeish to grave-robbing, I will attempt to steer the topic full-on grave-robbing-ward. Hoist the main sail! Man the rigging. The breeze is stiff and malodourous.
It has recently been discovered that someone has stolen Alastair Cooke's bones and/or softish organs. And those of other deceased people too. Seriously. This has actually come to pass.
Some East coast US funeral home had a secret room outfitted to harvest organs, in a midnight way, from the funeralees and Alastair Cooke was just one in the body-count.
A man HAS been arrested but, again, I have to ask, Mister Foot Eater, where were YOU on those dastardly nights in question? (Searching stare). The circumstantial evidence against you grow ever circumstantialier with each passing hour.
Nonsense, Sam - he was near the scene of another crime at the time.
BTW Ivan that was a superb insult. Thank you.
You're very welcome, Aunty - nemo my pals impune lacessit and all that...
Yes, you've got me bang to rights there, Ivan - I was poisoning Slobodan Milosevic in his cell.
I said "crime", Footie, not "public service".
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