UNIVERSAL DONOR: MA VIE EN CROUTE

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HEAVY ROTATION

Dan Deacon:
Bromst
Animal Collective:
Merriweather Post Pavillion
Bon Iver:
For Emma, Forever Ago
Vampire Weekend:
Vampire Weekend
Fleet Foxes:
Fleet Foxes




BLOGS ETC

claude le monde
nuncstans
rock 'em stock 'em
tomato nation
postmodern drunkard
tuckova 22
ghastly mess
constintina
total virility
fuzzysquid
drunken bee
stacey nightmare
elyse from ANTM
stereolabrat
dark side points
jf_franklin
123 i love you READ NOW
brotherhood 2.0

NOT BLOGS ETC

qwantz (dinosaur comix)
go fug yourself
the burg
cat and girl
book of ratings
married to the sea
icanhascheezburger
fire joe morgan
fivethirtyeight.com
READ NOW
hospitality on parade

WEIRD LOVE

dead amusement pks
craters!


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© 2002-2010
Jeremy Broomfield



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PRAISE & REVIEWS

"[UD] is a genius."
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"[Claudia] is fucking awesome, and [UD] is a genius. And vice versa. You should all buy Fear Not."
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MOTTO

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MY PUNK NAME

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and here's something
weird: my place
in Humor 3-space

Wednesday, May 08, 2002
 
By the time I realized Matt was a idiot, it had already been a year. He was my lover after that thing with the even dumber guy, and I use the term lover loosely. It conjures up an image of him as a backlit Parisian with sturdy pelvic muscles, when really, he was more of a hormone-driven jackhammer, barely illuminated by the dim flashing light of his many “ideas.” I remember that he considered himself an intellectual, although this assessment of himself seemed to rest on the fact that he could raise a single eyebrow and nod slowly when challenged with radical new concepts he didn’t understand. Concepts like putting down the bong, looking for a job, getting up from the sofa the first time he realized he had to pee.
      “Oh goody! Look! It's the newspaper, just as crisp as when the printer spit it out,” I’d say while he gazed up at me from the sofa with dull, stoned eyes. We were at month six of his life as a young man of leisure. “You’re going to have the nicest collection of untouched Employment Pages ever someday."
      He’d sigh and pause for effect, before slowly saying, “I don’t want some job being exploited by meretricious. . . people.”
      Meretricious was a new word he’d picked up and started using all the time. Before that it was droll -- maybe because it sounded foreign – which he used loudly and wrongly whenever he got the chance, which was at least a couple of times a day.
      "This pillow feels so soft and droll.”
      “There's nothing to do around here. This place is so droll.” And he’d raise one eyebrow and nod reflectively like he’d just unraveled the meaning of life.
      Why not just pick any word and put it wherever the hell you wanted?
     “I sure am tired. It’s been a really bovine day.”
     “That new scatological hairdo looks fantastic on you.”
      By the end, the newspapers piled up and Matt dedicated himself to pyramid schemes and get-rich-quick scams. Every single thing about him started to annoy me. The way he walked. The way he never closed the door when he went to the bathroom. The sound of him breathing -- existing -- next to me at night. The fact that he’d spend hours absentmindedly twirling a Q-Tip in his ear, in and out, picking up waxy debris and then unknowingly catching the dust from the air and pushing it right back in along with the cotton tip.
      I had suffered fools -- and by fools I mean just one fool, Matt -- too long.
      I found him on the sofa, the same bland, marijuana-content look on his face.  “Matt,” I said, “One of us has to go.”
     He stared at me blankly. “Wha?” He was confused, and I wanted to get it all out quickly before the eyebrow had a chance to do its thing.
      “And since this is my apartment, it’s gonna have to be you.”
     And that was pretty much that. Within a week all signs of Matt were gone, except for an empty Augustus Pablo album cover and a tapestry he’d left in the corner of our bedroom. I immediately called a carpet cleaner and had all the bongwater stains steamed from the carpet.

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MY IMAGINARY GIRLFRIENDS

Chan Marshall
Rotem of the IDF
Eleanor Friedberger
Amy Goodman
Bernardine Dohrn ('69)
Maya Rudolph
Joanna Newsom
Imogen Heap
Caroline Dhavernas

Shana Rae Ray

DISALLOWED FOREVER

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you!"
-
"from whence"
-
"...the exception that proves the rule"
-
any use of the question "spit or swallow?"
-
the phrase "drop trou"
-
fake-o reviewer verbs:
"penned" for wrote
"helmed" for directed
"lensed" for whatever
-
"expat"
-
the euphemism
"passed away"
-
pronouncing merci beaucoup as "mercy buckets!"
(see also: "grassy-ass!")



PET PEEVES

"confinscated"
-
trying children "as adults"
-
"drownded"
-
misuse of reflexive pronouns, as when someone says "Please talk to Bob or myself." Come on people now. "Myself" is not just a fancy version of "me"! LEARN IT.
-
tattoos in the Courier font
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any use of Comic Sans