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April 1999 – Ripley's Believe It or Not museum is no place for Pammy's implants to have their final resting place. These babies belong in the Smithsonian, right alongside Morse's electromagnetic telegraph and Edison's incandescent bulb.
Ripley's, which announced their intentions to buy the silicon implants on April 16th, roughly one day after Pammy announced that she'd had them extracted like a pair of troublesome wisdom teeth, intends to display the pair in their Hollywood Museum. Pamela, consider this an open letter of appeal: Don't do it. Your breasts deserve far better and so do your millions of loyal disciples.
I can't possibly tally up the number of internet geeks who have spent hours paying homage to these marvels of technology instead of wasting time with meaningless pursuits like seeking actual live woman to fawn over. Pammy, you never answered us back. You never experienced the proverbial headache when we were in the mood for love. You just stood, sat or lay there, a perfect digital image, all smiles and enormous, incredibly well-rounded breasts, looking sexy as the day is long.
Which brings me to this point. Concerning your desire to have your body "go back to its natural state," I implore you to think twice about this, also. Natural is fine. I like a good meal of seitan and tofu as much as the next guy. Food is a trivial matter. Sex – and I think any number of testosterone-driven males would agree – is definitely not. Not only have you "lifted" modern man to new heights but you have spawned hundreds if not thousands of successful entrepreneurs who used your likeness to generate such lovely offerings as hotsexxx.com, horneybabes.com and nakedmoviestars.com. Would you want to let them down now? No, of course you wouldn't.
What can I say. Although it's nice to hear that medical technology has made it as easy to increase and reduce the size of women's breasts as say letting down or taking up a seam on a pair of slacks, I still have certain reservations. I guess it's just the confusion effect that bothers me. One day you're a goddess with physical attributes that Mother Nature in her profound glory could not muster up, the next day you're just the girl next door.
All I can say is, Pammy, I hope you're not getting religious on us – we're still reeling from the Madonna effect. Nonetheless, if you don't like my Smithsonian suggestion, may I recommend that you donate your implants to the Salvation Army, where they can continue to serve mankind. I'm sure they can get more for the silicon marvels than the old furniture and used clothing that they usually have to offer.
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