UNIVERSAL DONOR: MA VIE EN CROUTE
|
||
|
Universal Donor
We can ill afford another Klendathu 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 SITE STATS 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 |
Thursday, October 10, 2002
I don't want to go to the bathroom anymore; I'm done with it. And when I say "go to the bathroom," I really mean "piss and shit." Or as PW would say, "urinate and make a boom-boom." (She might say that, but she'd never write it here, because apparently her fucking fingers are broken from all the hobo-fisting she does as an adjunct to her main business of hobo-blowing.)
So I'm done with the whole waste elimination thing, because it is gross as hell. I don't have a problem with GOING to the actual bathROOM -- it's a nice room, and it's where I keep my toothbrush and cotton balls. Which now that I think about it is kinda gross, too. There's probably vaporized piss and shit all over my cotton balls. Or as PW would say, "urine and poo-poo on my cloudy-puffs," because she has the brain of a five-year-old and sucks hobo cock for money to buy the paint stripper she huffs all day. She calls it "Mama's huff'n sauce," and smiles her toothless smile as she absent-mindedly pulls clumps of hair from her head. ANYway. It'll be easy to stop going to the bathroom, because I'm not all that big on eating, either. Sure, I get excited about a fancy meal dripping with fats and juices and salts and sugars and leeks and whatever, but it's a trick, see? Your body gets drooly at the sight of a porterhouse because it wants nutrients, but if the nutrients were taken care of, you wouldn't look twice at a candy bar unless it were sticking out of someone's ass. In that case, you'd look cuz you'd be like "why does that dude have a candy bar in his ass?" The answer to the nutrient problem, as always, comes from 50's sci-fi movies: food pills. Compress everything I need into a little ball and I'm good to go. Man, when I think of the time I've wasted! Thinking of what to eat, getting food, eating food, cleaning up after eating food, vomiting up food, washing dishes because I couldn't pay for food, picking diamonds out of my shit. . . no more! That's time I can spend writing music, watching samurai movies in slo-mo, or ransacking hobo's bindles as they're being pleasured by my dearest roommate and co-blogger, Pussy Willow. Or better yet, just hook me up to one of those magical hospital drip bags that comatose people have. Damn those lazy lucky coma fucks, they've got it made, right? Give me some coma dude's bag and hook something else up at the other end to collect whatever minimal waste my body creates. Or, I don't know, hollow out my calf and let it fill up with shit, and I'll empty it once a week. Then you can sew up my asshole and LET ME GET SOME GODDAMN WORK DONE. 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 |