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



Powered by Blogger

Oh fuck yeah.

This is my Google PageRankā„¢ - SmE Rank free service Powered by Scriptme


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



Look the fuck out! It's claude le monde!



WHO LINKS TO UD?

from Technorati
from Google
from Yahoo



and here's something
weird: my place
in Humor 3-space

Wednesday, July 09, 2003
 
You can't invite bad luck by talking about your good luck, so don't tell me to knock on wood. In spite of your feel-good superstitions, my flaily impersonations of retards, while tasteless, will not cause my children to "come out retarded." Misfortune is not like Beetlejuice or the Candyman -- though they are particularly charming embodiments of the concept -- and can't be summoned like a golden retriever on the porch.
     So listen: I have never been mugged. I've never been punched. I have never been sexually assaulted. I have never been in a car accident. I have never been arrested. Dude: I've never even been stung by a bee.
     Those of you cringing in anticipation of the immediate correction of these oversights of fate can untense your stupid trapezii. I'm still here, unmugged, unstung, unraped. I've had close calls: that spinout on snowed-over Route 80; that drunken party fucktard who was staring at my mouth like it was a fisty bull's-eye; the time I was almost hit by a train. Ooh! Once I was sitting in my laundromat, waiting for my wash to finish, and I was reading the last ten pages of a Joseph Heller's Something Happened (which is key because for almost 600 pages nothing happens at all and then, at the very end, something does, and it is very very very bad), and I was so totally engrossed that it wasn't 'til I finished that I noticed the cashier at the back sort of quivering and crying. The place had just been robbed at gunpoint, with such quiet efficiency that the robber had rustled past me, gun in hand, like a dryer sheet in the wind. Hooray for literature!
     I've always said New York is really safe, sometimes by comparing it to criminal hellholes like San Francisco or D.C., but usually just on the strength of my personal experience. Well, that's stupid; anecdotal evidence is no basis for, well, anything. So I admit, now, that as a six-foot-one male with long supple arms and a frighteningly huge jaw, I have less to fear than ittle bittle puny girly you. I am free to live my life without fear, until the day I'm forced by circumstance to perceive the dangers that grandparents have always seen in hitchhikers, alleys, and bodies of water. Until then, however, I will continue to stride carelessly through throngs of Hell's Angels on my way to the roof to practice my fencing moves in a thunderstorm.

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