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 |
Thursday, May 08, 2003
Why would I go to my ten-year high school reunion? Jackie went to my high school and college, and we still hang out a lot. I play in her band. She's supposedly a good friend. So why is she trying to get me to go to what EVERYONE KNOWS is the most unpleasant event in the world? I would rather suck on cream-filled turdsicles than go to some awful Wall Street bar and talk to a bunch of blue-shirted gel-hairs who practice phantom golf swings while describing "B-school." Which is what I heard the five-year was all about. I didn't go to that, either, because I chose to spend the night licking the musky balls of the homeless at the shelter near my house.
If there's anybody I still want to talk to from HS, I'm still in contact, ok? Jackie says "It'll be fun! Just like Romy and Michele!" I mean come on now. I think you have to have a seriously stunted imagination not to be able to predict the carnival of torment a reunion engenders. It's on the Big List of Uncomfortable Situation Clichés, right up there with The Blind Date with Fat Smelly Dude; Getting Dumped by Person You Don't Even Like; Caught Sucking the Wife's Dad's Cock Again; Ran to the Basement When the Zombies Came and Their Screams Are Getting Louder and There's No Way Out NO WAY OUT OH MY GOD; the Job Interview Where You Don't Notice the Semen Stains All Over Your Clothes Until it's Too Late; and the Whoops I Didn't Know That Gun Was Loaded But Hey, Where Did My Little Brother's Face Go? It's a sitcom plot. It's a setup for a joke told by a molesty uncle. It's prototypically un-fun. I can't even visualize myself attending the thing. Am I slouched in a chair, trying to look like I don't give a fuck, but being unable to muster even the vaguest semblance of aloofness? Am I turned facing a corner like that dude at the end of Blair Witch? Am I throwing forks at people's heads? No. I am none of the above. I can't go. In fact, my inability to go to my ten year reunion kind of defines me: I Am He Who Is Not At The Reunion. So go ahead, Jackie. Try to not feel like a worthless fool as your explain your life to some idiot bitch whose monthly makeup budget is higher than our combined gross incomes. Try not to care about the opinions of people you always despised but still hope you can impress, somehow. Try to spend less than five hours obsessing over your outfit before leaving the house. Try to drink enough plastic-bottle vodka from the open bar to blot out the atavistic fight-or-flight agony of reawakened popularity contest fucktardation. Or we can just hang out at my house, shoot pure Turkish heroin into our eyeballs, and join all our classmates at the big reunion in hell. 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 |