UNIVERSAL DONOR: MA VIE EN CROUTE
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Universal Donor
We can ill afford another Klendathu  feed it up!
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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 
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Thursday, September 04, 2003
As noted previously, my back is fucked. My scoliosis wasn't detected in high school because Stuyvesant had a relaxed attitude towards gym class. Well, I had a relaxed attitude toward gym class, anyway. I was either sick, cutting, or out with a forged doctor's note on the days they were supposed to test us for spinal twistery. So my curvature progressed apace, uncorrected by any futuristic Fakir Mustapha-style bondage brace. We've been over this, haven't we? So let's skip ahead.
The pain just got worse over the years, no matter how much time I spent avoiding any kind of physical labor, exertion, or movement; no matter how many cigarettes I smoked and movies I watched; no matter how many bacon egg & cheese sandwiches I consumed. I am a poster boy for un-health (and here's the poster), but all my friends are viable candidates for the Slothful Feckless Fuck of the Year award, too. It's not just that we don't exercise, or eat right, or exhibit any symptoms of self-preservation. It's that we actively despise anybody who does. We would never be seen in public in sweatclothes. Owning ANY kind of fitness equipment is an unforgivable transgression against taste, and even an ironic late-night telepurchase of a ThighMaster would fall outside the protective umbrella of Camp. Jogging? It's not even worth the effort to disdain. With a peer group like that, I was doomed from the start, right? I asked my mom about this recently: UD: I don't get it. You and Dad are both fairly healthy, active people. Why'd I turn out like this? I need to exercise. Mom: Hey -- are you feeling okay? UD: Well, obviously not. Mom: No, I said "are you feeling okay" because you said "I need to exercise." You know, like: "who are you, and what have you done with my son." UD: Oh, right. Heh. But seriously, if my friends had been more healthy when I was younger, maybe I wouldn't have turned out so fucked. Mom: But you never liked healthy people. It's not like you were kidnapped by slobs and forced to adopt their habits. UD: Well, couldn't you have guided me towards healthier kids? Or like forbade me to hang with the sickly ones? [pause] Mom: You're kidding, right? How would that have gone, exactly? "Dear adolescent son, please clean your room, do your homework, and select a peer group of higher quality to ensure your future health?" UD: Yeah, ok. But maybe before I was an adolescent? Mom: We sent you to that afterschool sports program. Do you remember? UD: Oh. Mom: Do you remember what that was like? [pause] UD: Oh GOD! I do! It was absolute torture. They hated me. Always put me in waaay right field for baseball, and picked me last for everything. Punched and kicked me! Fuck! That's it! It was trauma! I'm unhealthy because of those protojock fuckheads and their abusive alpha cocksuckery! Mom: Oh whatever. Quit blowing smoke in my face. UD: Do you think they maybe molested me on the bus and I've suppressed the memory? Those raping monsters! Mom: Please give me a small break for once. Puh-lease. UD: [muttering under breath] Those bastards. Mom: How's physical therapy? UD: It is awful. Awful awful awful. Mom: Good. Proud 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 |
