Dane Cook Tried to Steal My Essence

The below story gave me some trouble.

So much so I boycotted writing for some time.

You see I had themed that week Dane Cook-apalooza. Dane Cook is a comedian /actor – which you may or may not have heard of who is close to beating Jon Stewart on the people who will marry me but don’t know it yet list. It’s ok go IMDB him, I’ll wait.

Done? Was it good for you?

Every day that week my hours were garnished with a smidgeon of Dane Cookness. Either I listened to his comedy, watched it on TV, or quoted it ad nauseam. You know, there’s only so many times you can say somebody shit on the coats with it still being funny.

Or so I hear.

And because of all things Dane Cook permeating my daily life, while writing the below post, I fought the urge to write about the time I gave Marcus a Snickers bar and then we talked about pens. I had to fight the Dane Cook within, and well that’s what came out, I wrote about my very own Marcus and his knee caps story.

But the problem isn’t Dane Cook. Why would such an obvious problem stop there with me? Yes kids, we are going to dissect my problem until nothing is left but bad puns and reflections on why GOD spelled backwards is DOG.

So the problem is, I have the sponge like ability to withhold people’s mannerism, their quirks and so forth. That’s right I can steal their essence. This means accents, hand gestures, even expressions. I usually loose it after a few hours. Still, if I’m talking to a Brit I suddenly live in a flat with a malfunctioning lift. After watching a Robin Williams comedy special I will feel it necessary to make Elmer Fudd jokes. And when I talk to Cornelius, my born again office mime, no invisible door will remained closed.

I have a pornographic need to apply what I’ve just learnt.

Nevertheless, I have learnt how to consciously fight it, but it’s a battle. And right now, I’ve won. This is it, this is just me. This is my essence. I found my significance. I am an individual who has no idea how to end this post properly. You see I’m terrible at goodbyes.

So I will leave you on this and save you the puns and hippy metaphors:

If you’ve had a bad day, and end up driving home in traffic, look around inside the cars around you. If you're lucky you’ll find someone picking their nose. And there’s nothing like watching somebody elbow deep in nose goblins to make you forget about your day.

And that my friends, is my essence. Snot jokes.