UNIVERSAL DONOR: MA VIE EN CROUTE
|
||
|
Universal Donor
We can ill afford another Klendathu  feed it up!
| UD email
You are just a number to me! And that number is: PAGES UD MADE: My Books Page My Reviews Page My Reference Page My Music Page My Pictures My Store UD-RELATED PAGES: My LiveJournal My MySpace music page My Flickr page My del.icio.us page My Last.fm page My Amazon Wishlist 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! all content © 2002-2010 Jeremy Broomfield 
Hosted by: HostRocket.Com Comments by: YACCS PRAISE & REVIEWS "[UD] is a genius." --Christian Oates "[Claudia] is fucking awesome, and [UD] is a genius. And vice versa. You should all buy Fear Not." --Tricia Howey MOTTO egeo huic vigorum MY WRESTLING NAME Titan Gently MY PUNK NAME Razor Ection 
WHO LINKS TO UD? • from Technorati • from Google • from Yahoo 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. 0 comments |
OTHER REVIEWS: Scrabble NEW! LATEST BOOK REVIEWS: The Game Moneyball One-Upsmanship Siddhartha You need the Fear Not Guide to Life. Buy it already. ($4) Now available! The Broomfield Variations CD ($10) or go to The UD Store 
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 - any use of Comic Sans |