Jenny Smedley, submitted by Ryan.Jenny Smedley was a nobody. A nincompoop. A ugly harlot devoid of talent. But then one day while smoking some fairy dust, she found out that had a past life in the 17th century, and was married to an Irish hero by the name of Ryan Fitzgerald, who is really the current Garth Brooks. Still with me? This is where it gets a little weird. Before she found out this past life she was a lumpy nobody, but now she thinks she has the magical powers of writing, singing, dancing, and the knowledge of personal health. That Garth Brooks is really something.I OWE EVERYTHING TO AN OVERFED COUNTRY SINGER!!
"My story began 8 years ago. The events that took place that day changed me from a suicidal and overweight housewife, with apparently no talent and no future, into a successful, happy author, screenplay writer, newspaper columnist, song writer and TV Presenter of my own show. I also lost chronic pains and weight. 8 years ago basically - I was a mess! However, my life changed in a second, all because one night I felt compelled to switch on the TV, and I obeyed the instinct."
For I recognised someone on TV that night - someone I thought I had never seen before - and yet in a few seconds I became sure that I knew him, down to every last facet of his character, although his current name did not seem to fit my memories. My depression was lifted instantly. It was the most wonderful release. Some dark cloud that had been hovering over me, was dissipated in those few seconds. I didn't understand it all. The most amazing part of it was that I knew also, that unlike in the past, this time the depression was gone for good. Somehow I could feel that the reason for it had gone. The man in question was Garth Brooks.
Under hypnotic regression, I remembered vividly living in the 17th century, in Hambledon, Hampshire, as Madeleine Fitzgerald, married to Ryan Fitzgerald, and this man looked exactly like a younger Garth Brooks. Ryan and Madeleine were tragically and prematurely torn apart, and Madeleine never knew what had become of him. This explained the depression - it was actually a very old grief. It also explained the lifting of that depression, because my subconscious had recognised him instantly. It was spellbinding. Having been a Catholic all my life, I had not considered the idea of having had past lives, but I was immediately certain it was true.
How come every person who claims to have a prior life always has an important one? Nobody is ever a stable boy, or just a common wench who lives in a squalid village. But if it keeps these folks off the streets, more power to them I guess.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
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