Too Many Lobsters

Have you ever watched a commercial from The Lobster House and thought, "No, wait a minute--there can't be that many healthy, fresh and natural lobsters out there being fished up and wolfed down all over the United States!"  Where do all those lobsters come from?  What happened to them before there were chains of lobster restaurants devoted to serving up millions of lobsters daily to millions of happy diners?  They must have proliferated there in their cold briny healthy waters until they carpeted the Atlantic several feet deep. Not.
Same thing with chicken breasts.  Look at your supermarket chicken department.  Lots and lots and LOTS of chicken breasts, pruned, trimmed, denuded of skin, lying there in huge packages ready for you to take home and cook for Coxey's Army.  You wont find your pristine, modest-sized backyard fowl there--but you'll find those chicken breasts by the million.  Something is awry in the state of Denmark, folks, and by that I mean Denmark USA.

This is all leading up to a lady I saw at the beauty parlor yesterday.  As I was being blowed and combed out, I saw her arise newly coiffed from her chair.  She was a lady of my age. Her hair looked terrific.  She was a person of some excess poundage, say about like me. But not too bad.  She was cutely attired in faded jeans and pullover tee shirt of a nice green.  About like me.  She then put on a three-quarter length coat of black, adding a nice concealer to all.  And took out her pretty scarf, which she artfully draped about the collar area to draw the eye's attention to the top part of her person.  About like me.

Too many lobsters, I thought.  My cute look is going the way of all flesh.  I have to think of a new look and a new hairdo.  Skirts, perhaps--but that involves pantyhose or tights because my legs don't look too good. Panic is setting in.  My clones are all about me.  Maybe my granny's retreat to simple dresses, simple stockings, and lace up granny shoes wasn't too bad an idea after all. YAZZYBEL