Journaling

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It seemed like everyone from the Pope to Mahatma Gandhi was accelerating

their personal growth through the powerful self-development tool of “journaling.”

So, not wanting to be a bridesmaid, I decided jump on the “journaling” bandwagon.

Here’s an example of how it went…

I had…I had never seen a human being wearing such a big pair of underpants.

My Mom: How and what the hell are you doing in here?!

Me: The window and looking for Kryptonite?

Me: Hey, Pope.

Hey, Mahatma Gandhi

How did you get in here?

Pope: The Window.

Gandhi: Got any Kryptonite?

Pope: Whoa. Draped over that tuba.

That’s the biggest pair of underpants I’ve ever seen.

Me: Yeah, my Mom’s. She’s in the other room or through the other window.

Gandhi Who feels like marching to the sea with me to make salt?

Pope: Get your Mom son. She can lead the parade wearing those underpants.

Me: I watch the parade on Thanksgiving.

Gandhi: Hey, what’s with Pope. He’s going through that other window.

Popeye: Where’s me spinach?

You land lubbers sure like your Kryptonite.

Abraham Lincoln: I miss my wooden friend Pinocchio.

Santa Claus: Who the f**k pitched a tent over my tuba?!

Superman: Sorry I’m late. Ahhhh, Kryptonite!

My Mom: Can you be a dear and zip me up.

Who were all those voices out here?

Sounded like a party.

Me: Just me Mom.

Journaling…

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