I admit it. I've been crippled, beaten and spat on by a pair of shoes.

You can't see how high the heel is but none of that matters because my feet are dying and I'm going to be a wheechair bound for the rest of my life. I guess it's tempting fate - buying shoes where the angle of the heel to the ground is about 90 degrees - but they just looked so beautiful. Which is a good thing because now my feet are deformed and ugly, at least I'll always have a pair of sexy, feminine shoes to look at as I lie footless in bed.

My feet have been raped. There must be a number I can call.