I Steal and Feel No Remorse

What happens to someone when all of their ideas become stale or regurgitated?

What if they are so unindustrious  that everyone else alive today can seemingly take a common theme and work it so masterfully that it resounds with others but even with a shiny spin and some skillful smoke and mirrors moves you STILL can’t get it to develop properly?

Notice that initially the mystery person in question here could have been anyone and now suddenly it’s mutated into me?

Yeah, I’m out of steam. So what?

It happens every single year at the same time just like clockwork. There’s the inevitable whining about how busy my life is and how difficult it’s become to type out a couple hundred measly words that don’t even have to conform to any sort of well written standard.

Or maybe I give you the sob story of a difficult year, with difficult kids.

Then I get a huge God complex where I INSIST that the rules of grammar and nature don’t even apply to me because I’m trying to bear my soul to you goddamnit and you will NOT entwine me in your meaningless minutiae!

Whah whah.

ANYWAY….

Last month my buddy at 20 Prospect crafted a post about the Invisible Sun, (which gives its heat to everyone, RIGHT STING?) and I found myself scratching my matted head, dumbfounded because I too had a post titled “Invisible Sun” in my draft section.

What are the odds?

 Realistically, the odds for me are slightly higher due to the deeply felt love and adoration I harbor for the three divinely talented and  impossibly adorable members of the STILL defunct POLICE.

sigh....

But I digress.

Ahem.

So here is the original post that I kinda stole from Gordon Sumner and sorta pilfered from Tom and I don’t really fucking care because there are people starving somewhere. Or so my mom says.

Did you ever happen upon one of those people who has heat radiating out from every pore, warming everyone they come in contact with during the day? Like a compact version of your own personal invisible sun? You can almost see the little joy explosions erupting from their surface and the little baby magma splatters hit your arm and become instantly infectious rendering you powerless to stop their migration straight to your cold, hard, jaded innards.

There is nothing not to love about these guys. In a world overrun with life vampires who try to suck the wind out of your sails and the happy from your soul these sparkling gems of humanity are a rare and delightful find. Like the caramel milk chocolate prize in the fruity gel filled crapfest that is the Whitman Sampler.

When I find one of these people, I just marvel at their goodness and then I latch on to them and try to ride the well-tailored hem of their coattails for as long as humanly possible in the hopes that some of it rubs off on me.

Who wouldn’t want to be attached to someone who will fill your world with YES and can simultaneously override the inborn Moro reflex that tries to prevent you from taking the inevitable fall you will have when you let go of this fast-moving dynamo?

There are days I feel that only a truly industrial sized steel wool pad could scour the rot from my soul but then the invisible sun comes along and scorches it to ash with the blinding heat of positive thinking and the intensity of twin stars going super nova.

You gotta love a bitch who burns with such brutal ferocity and the conviction of righteousness! I should knit her a cape.

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19 Comments

Filed under 20 prospect, analogies gone wrong, andy summers, appreciation, are there any new ideas, aspirations, back to regularly scheduled programming, Do sociopaths feel remorse, I'm shallow, people who radiate goodness, stealing isn't as bad as it sounds, the police

19 responses to “I Steal and Feel No Remorse

  1. Tom G.

    Dearest Dufmanno, your writing is the caramel milk chocolate prize in the fruity gel filled crapfest that is the Internet.

    That belongs in a greeting card.

    Also, The line “Then I get a huge God complex where I INSIST that the rules of grammar and nature don’t even apply to me because I’m trying to bear my soul to you goddamnit and you will NOT entwine me in your meaningless minutiae!” is one the the greatest, serendipitous, ironic, malapropisms I’ve ever seen. Don’t ever stop.

    • dufmanno

      I have no idea what the fuck you are even saying but I’m going to pretend I did an ironic malapropism on purpose and not because I can’t proofread or understand the real meaning of the english language!
      I’m clever like that.

  2. Dufmanno

    The guilt of pretendig to be a word master has gotten to me. Bear misspelling was unintentional. Now must shuffle back in shame and change it to bare even though idea of Kodiak monster eating people and souls is more fun.

  3. Look, you capitalize. That’s all I care about. Oh, that and the snark.

    • dufmanno

      Yes but I’ve got a spotty history with words and full understanding. Like, sometimes I go back and read with no ability to connect any of the sentences in a paragraph.
      Like this..
      The intricate and beautiful carvings made by primative cave dwellers show what life must have been like in ancient times.
      FOLLOWED BY….
      You should also sharpen your spear and make sure your rocket boots are all fueled up!
      Bad.

  4. I am here to accept my cape.

    Because if you are a narcisisstic blowhard than I am a plain old egocentric narcissist.

    Haaa, you write real good and I think this post is really about you and the goopy baby magma is stuff the oozes and spits out of your pores.

    It just took me three times to figure out out to spell pores, poors, pours.

  5. WHY AM I BEING MODERATED?!?!?!

  6. Love this “When I find one of these people, I just marvel at their goodness and then I latch on to them and try to ride the well-tailored hem of their coattails for as long as humanly possible in the hopes that some of it rubs off on me.” I feel the same way, and to me, you are one of my invisible suns.

    And this, “Who wouldn’t want to be attached to someone who will fill your world with YES and can simultaneously override the inborn Moro reflex that tries to prevent you from taking the inevitable fall you will have when you let go of this fast-moving dynamo?” Love. It.

    And this, “There is nothing not to love about these guys. In a world overrun with life vampires who try to suck the wind out of your sails and the happy from your soul these sparkling gems of humanity are a rare and delightful find. Like the caramel milk chocolate prize in the fruity gel filled crapfest that is the Whitman Sampler.”

    And friggin’ this. “There are days I feel that only a truly industrial sized steel wool pad could scour the rot from my soul but then the invisible sun comes along and scorches it to ash with the blinding heat of positive thinking and the intensity of twin stars going super nova.” I could totally make sweet gentle love to these words of yours.

    And the ending. “You gotta love a bitch who burns with such brutal ferocity and the conviction of righteousness! I should knit her a cape.”

    Fuck this. I want to quote the whole thing. How did you come up with these words? If your going away once in a while means that you will come back with such a ferocious bang, then yes my dear we will forgive you for leaving us.

    • dufmanno

      I don’t know. I just got a huge wave of positivity and I went with it. We should all probably note that this also comes after the barren abyss of nearly a month where I passed by my computer and snarled at it every time it looked at me. So lack of productivity fueled my guilt, which progressed into anger which then morphed into an inexplicable rage which bubbled and came to a head exploding and saturating everything in the area. Then all that cooled down and made a land mass large enough to build a tiny hope house where I was able to run water pipes and land lines to plug in my laptop.
      Yay!

  7. I think we find those people when we need them…in my case, usually just in the nick of time.

    Also, speaking of stealing, I just read the phrase goopy baby magma. I am heisting it. I have no earthly idea what I’m going to do with it, but I am running down the street with it as we speak.

    • Did you put it in a plastic bag because it does sound kind of slippery to hold on to.

    • dufmanno

      I’ve got no claim of ownership on baby magma explosions.
      Somewhere on the chain of islands that make up Hawaii and the fiery ice world of Iceland petite geysers and miniscule volcanos raise their hands in unison. The baby magma belongs to them, so you make take it with my blessings.

  8. I don’t know what this post is about because I’m distracted by that photo you posted. I’m also aware that Stewart looks way better that Sting in it. Sting looks constipated…Andy looks, well, he looks like Andy but Stewart is like the GOD OF COOL in this photo…hmmm

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