UNIVERSAL DONOR: MA VIE EN CROUTE
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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
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Thursday, January 30, 2003
I was really good at dodgeball when I was a kid. I only mention this because in every other physical activity, I was a useless spastic weakling. I've never been fast, strong, or capable, but when it was time to play dodgeball I became a god among giants, because I possessed three qualities: eerily quick reflexes, a preturnatural awareness of my surroundings, and an overwhelming desire not to get hit with flying objects. I could sense a playground ball soaring toward my bowl-cutted head and instinctively, like, pluck it from the air, making my assailant look pretty stupid. My elementary school gym teacher favored a free-form incarnation of the game called "Turbo Dodgeball," wherein everyone ran frantically around the gym trying to annihilate everyone else -- no teams, no jails, no obstructions. Just me and all the other little fuckwads. And I was the king of the fuckwads.
I only mention this because I was so lame and despised in every other regard. And I'm not just trying to jump on the late-'90s hipster "I was unpopular as a child" bandwagon. Remember when famous people started coming out of the woodwork to claim aggrieved status as schoolyard victims? I believe that Noam Chomsky and Billy Corgan suffered at the hands of bullies, but when obvious football player/cheerleader types started complaining I got a little fed up. I know that in high school I was well-liked and visible; the fawning inscriptions in my yearbook from people I can barely remember attest to that. But in elementary school I really was a reject -- the kind of kid who's always trying to show you a magic trick, or trying to juggle three unwieldy objects. If I had gone to any school other than that feel-good pinko playpen, I would have been yard meat. But man. I could play dodgeball. And now I am totally awesome. 0 comments |
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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 - any use of Comic Sans |