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 |
Friday, August 22, 2003
Yesterday my boss went to Boston for a session with a strange quasi-mystical (definitely not a doctor) hypnotist dude, and she hasn't had a cigarette all day. I haven't pressed her on the issue, because earlier, when I waggled my eyebrows inquisitively, she laid her finger across her lips and widened her eyes in the universal gesture for "don't break quasi-mystical nonsmoking spell or whatever."
My boss has been a two pack-a-day huffer for over 40 years, and she has smoked in her office as long as I've known her. As her similarly afflicted assistant and confidant, I have enjoyed the privilege of indoor smoke breaks. I've had my nostrils flared all day to detect the slightest whiff of hypnotic failure from her office, but she seems eerily unconcerned with the fact that she hasn't ingested nicotine in almost 20 hours. Has she got patches all up her torso, or wads of Nicorette tucked behind her molars? I am seriously panicking at the idea that this quit will stick, because if it does, I've lost my only defender in the office and I'll probably have to try it myself. What would I do with my life if I constantly felt, you know, better? (I assume that's what happens when you can use your lungs as oxygen processors instead of tar repositories. Feeling... better.) I am worried that without physical agony as a thematic focus of my life, I might have to develop some kind of mental agony to replace it. Most non-smokers I know seem pretty bummed, right? Wait -- do I know any non-smokers? Oh yeah, I do: they're all alcoholics. As if things weren't bad enough, the fucktards at Mars Inc. seem to have discontinued the "regular" size Snickers Ice Cream Bar in favor of the regally gluttonous "king size" size. This is why I hate corporations. Some wonk with a spreadsheet calculated that Snickers Ice Cream Bar-craving consumers (like me) will go to the store to "really satisf[y]" themselves and, faced with a slightly bigger bar, have no choice but to plonk down the extra 50 cents. 10% increase in cost, 50% increase in price, 20% increase in my arterial plaque -- but profits for the corporation and a new yacht for the CEO. (Oh, and the spreadsheet wonk gets fired for being such a Smarty McSmartPants). Stay tuned for new sizes: "exxtreme," "boffo," and the spectacular 3-pound Mondo Unsane Snickers Ice Cream Ingot. Business is inherently amoral, and I'm ok with that. But the marketing that cynically entrains the be-fattening of America's helpless peanut and caramel-needers is immoral, and that sucks. It's like SUVs, kids, and here's what I should have said before during the heat of the argument: SUVs do not serve any automotive purpose. They serve many psychological purposes for the driver (I'm a big powerful man! I'm a rugged outdoorser! I'm a frontier explorer! I'm king of the road!) and great financial purposes for the manufacturers of cars and anyone in the oil business. Oh, and they keep funeral homes busier, too. I guess that's good for that sector of the economy. And before you say it, shut up. I know. American capitalism is built on the consumption of the unnecessary, and depends on the psychological and mathematical weakness of the consumer. It just makes me sick, is all. I wish I had a regular Snickers Ice Cream Bar. I need it. I NEED IT, NOW. FASTER! 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 |