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You are just a number
to me! And that number
is:

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PAGES UD MADE:

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My Books Page

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My Reviews Page

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My Reference Page

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My Music Page

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My Pictures

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My Store

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UD-RELATED PAGES:

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My LiveJournal

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My MySpace music page

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My Flickr page

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My del.icio.us page

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My Last.fm page

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My Amazon Wishlist

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HEAVY ROTATION

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Dan Deacon:
Bromst
Animal Collective:
Merriweather Post Pavillion
Bon Iver:
For Emma, Forever Ago
Vampire Weekend:
Vampire Weekend
Fleet Foxes:
Fleet Foxes

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BLOGS ETC

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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

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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

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dead amusement pks
craters!

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all content
© 2002-2010
Jeremy Broomfield

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PRAISE & REVIEWS

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"[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

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egeo huic vigorum

MY WRESTLING NAME

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Titan Gently

MY PUNK NAME

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Razor Ection







WHO LINKS TO UD?

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• from Technorati
• from Google
• from Yahoo



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

  Drunk Girl Story Part 2,
or: NuckTales, Woo-oo! (continued from Tuesday)
I'm relieved that I don't have to play babysitter for the facelicking freak anymore, because it allows me to bask in the praise and attention of the folks outside. I saved the girl, I saved the show, I saved rock and roll. Of course, the adulation is tempered by the laid-back hipster imperative, so it's fairly muted, and mostly communicated with eyebrows.
     I came here to see a band, didn't I? Well, fuck, they're setting up now. Shouldering my way to the back, I can see TV on the Radio, an ever-expanding collection of boys, boxes, and wires, gathered in the corner of the restaurant that serves as a stage, plugging and unplugging, testing and twanging, extending the typical pre-gig foreplay into a marathon of procrastination. One of the singers has a strong aroma of sweaty sex, which inclines the audience even further towards drooling, slavish acceptance of whatever will follow. Everyone has been waiting for weeks to hear these guys; they could vomit into a bag and receive a standing o.
     But wait, now. Maybe it isn't Kyp's underarms that smell so sexy. Because looky here, on the vinyl bench along the wall, Therésè appears to be... straddling somebody, but with a real earnestness that bespeaks more than casual frottage. Pinned underneath her is -- hey! -- her Jewish friend! He's shorter than she, about 5'4", and he looks more than a little startled. I look around for corroboration of what my eyes are telling me, and it's fully circular eyesockets and lips, the rondure of disbelief, on all faces. Also smiles and "only in Noo Yawk" head-shakes, which is stupid, but there you go.
     It's hard not to stare, mostly because she seems completely oblivious to the fact that THERE ARE ABOUT 500 PEOPLE IN THE ROOM, and also because the pinioned jewboy is distinctly NOT oblivious to this fact, looking nervously at, well, everybody, trying to figure out if he should be proud or ashamed. The smell of drunken Canadian snatch is thick in the air, a kind of sour maple musk, and Therésè keeps plunging her hands into their mingled groin area, under her ample denim skirt, possibly arranging ornery underpant parts, possibly to encourage her paramour, who could be suffering from some perefctly understandable performance-anxiety-related detumescense.
      Was the music good? I remember it being very good, as the giddy glee of public sex can only enhance a rock show. The crowd danced jerkily from toe to toe like a bunch of juice-filled kindergarteners doing the peepee dance. With all the wires plugged into their appropriate holes, the music was hot, and sex was in everyone's nose. God bless America, or whatever!
posted by Universal Donor 2:20 PM 0 comments

OTHER REVIEWS:
Scrabble NEW!

LATEST BOOK REVIEWS:
The Game
Moneyball
One-Upsmanship
Siddhartha

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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

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MY IMAGINARY GIRLFRIENDS

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Chan Marshall
Rotem of the IDF
Eleanor Friedberger
Amy Goodman
Bernardine Dohrn ('69)
Maya Rudolph
Joanna Newsom
Imogen Heap
Caroline Dhavernas

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Shana Rae Ray

DISALLOWED FOREVER

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"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you!"
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"from whence"
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"...the exception that proves the rule"
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any use of the question "spit or swallow?"
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the phrase "drop trou"
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fake-o reviewer verbs:
"penned" for wrote
"helmed" for directed
"lensed" for whatever
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"expat"
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the euphemism
"passed away"
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pronouncing merci beaucoup as "mercy buckets!"
(see also: "grassy-ass!")

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PET PEEVES

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"confinscated"
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trying children "as adults"
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"drownded"
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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.
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tattoos in the Courier font
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any use of Comic Sans

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