Conquerer on the job

This is the 4th day of life without my beloved breasts (she says in Stewey's voice from the Family guy). The house is a mess and I cannot get the house boy to clean --he cooks and provides plenty of medication, which gives him a passing grade. However, how am I supposed to conquer the planet with the house is this state of disarray? I have just given the finger to Giada De Laurentis, the chesty chef on television, not only because she cooks food I cannot eat from my living room, but because she shamelessly flaunts her bouncy assets. We'll see who's flaunting in 25 years, sweatheart. My bandages have been changes to my disliking, and the scars are as nice as they could be --I will most likely be able to deceive the world's population by wearing a bikini in 2010. In the mean time, I'm plotting my revenge against the rogue cells that used my body as a party vessel for a year...amputation just doesn't seem adequate enough.