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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Friday, May 02, 2003
Spring makes me stupid. I've already started walking around for the hell of it, half-believing that I'm gonna start exercising on a regular basis, which I can already hear some of you falling out of your Aeron Chairs with helpless mirth. Exercise and me are like compassion and conservatism: fundamentally incompatible. But when the weather gets nice, my appetite disappears as my body tries frantically to shed my winter coat of fat, which must be some atavistic mating season preparation, right? Gotta slim down and make babies, fat little babies! Fuck. So even though I'm eating less, I feel a twitchy drive to stroll, and I get the itsiest little endorphin rush after dodging midtown lunchtime fuckwads for an hour, but I CANNOT EXERCISE. That's not excercise, says the bitch in the back with the Crunch membership card crumbling from disuse in her Kate Spade bag. Well, fuck you too, hooker, and go blow a frat boy. I don't want to sweat any more than necessary, because I hate having to shower more than once a week, and no amount of Matrix sequels will make me change my mind about that. I only like sex sweat and crystal meth overdose sweat.
Spring makes me look in the mirror too much. Why do I have huge raccoony eye luggage? I got plenty of sleep this entire week (5 hours a night interrupted by frequent cigarette breaks is normal, right?), I ate a vegetable or two, and I even convinced an Irish dude that I was an angel. Though to be fair, the Irish guy was drunk and didn't take much convincing. I gave him a cigarette, which must have been the nicest thing anybody's ever done for the poor bloke, but I think he was hypnotized by my suit, which stood out in Williamsburg like a neon vagina in Utah. A weird Catholic response to the trappings of authority, maybe? He was old enough to know better, but he kept staring all googly-eyed, asking over and over again "but whar did ye coom froom?" And no matter what I said, he was convinced that I had said "heaven." If that's what being a cult leader feels like, I'm not sure I can hack it. Get lost, all of you. 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 |