Universal Donor
We can ill afford
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- Archives - 04/01/2002 - 05/01/2002 05/01/2002 - 06/01/2002 06/01/2002 - 07/01/2002 07/01/2002 - 08/01/2002 08/01/2002 - 09/01/2002 09/01/2002 - 10/01/2002 10/01/2002 - 11/01/2002 11/01/2002 - 12/01/2002 12/01/2002 - 01/01/2003 01/01/2003 - 02/01/2003 02/01/2003 - 03/01/2003 03/01/2003 - 04/01/2003 04/01/2003 - 05/01/2003 05/01/2003 - 06/01/2003 06/01/2003 - 07/01/2003 07/01/2003 - 08/01/2003 08/01/2003 - 09/01/2003 09/01/2003 - 10/01/2003 10/01/2003 - 11/01/2003 11/01/2003 - 12/01/2003 12/01/2003 - 01/01/2004 01/01/2004 - 02/01/2004 02/01/2004 - 03/01/2004 03/01/2004 - 04/01/2004 04/01/2004 - 05/01/2004 05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004 06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004 07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004 08/01/2004 - 09/01/2004 09/01/2004 - 10/01/2004 10/01/2004 - 11/01/2004 11/01/2004 - 12/01/2004 12/01/2004 - 01/01/2005 01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005 02/01/2005 - 03/01/2005 03/01/2005 - 04/01/2005 04/01/2005 - 05/01/2005 05/01/2005 - 06/01/2005 06/01/2005 - 07/01/2005 07/01/2005 - 08/01/2005 08/01/2005 - 09/01/2005 09/01/2005 - 10/01/2005 10/01/2005 - 11/01/2005 11/01/2005 - 12/01/2005 12/01/2005 - 01/01/2006 01/01/2006 - 02/01/2006 02/01/2006 - 03/01/2006 03/01/2006 - 04/01/2006 04/01/2006 - 05/01/2006 05/01/2006 - 06/01/2006 06/01/2006 - 07/01/2006 07/01/2006 - 08/01/2006 08/01/2006 - 09/01/2006 09/01/2006 - 10/01/2006 10/01/2006 - 11/01/2006 11/01/2006 - 12/01/2006 12/01/2006 - 01/01/2007 01/01/2007 - 02/01/2007 02/01/2007 - 03/01/2007 03/01/2007 - 04/01/2007 04/01/2007 - 05/01/2007 05/01/2007 - 06/01/2007 06/01/2007 - 07/01/2007 07/01/2007 - 08/01/2007 08/01/2007 - 09/01/2007 09/01/2007 - 10/01/2007 10/01/2007 - 11/01/2007 11/01/2007 - 12/01/2007 12/01/2007 - 01/01/2008 01/01/2008 - 02/01/2008 02/01/2008 - 03/01/2008 03/01/2008 - 04/01/2008 04/01/2008 - 05/01/2008 05/01/2008 - 06/01/2008 06/01/2008 - 07/01/2008 07/01/2008 - 08/01/2008 08/01/2008 - 09/01/2008 09/01/2008 - 10/01/2008 10/01/2008 - 11/01/2008 11/01/2008 - 12/01/2008 12/01/2008 - 01/01/2009 01/01/2009 - 02/01/2009 03/01/2009 - 04/01/2009 07/01/2009 - 08/01/2009 08/01/2009 - 09/01/2009 04/01/2010 - 05/01/2010 09/01/2010 - 10/01/2010

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

  Oh and I guess I forgot to mention that the San Francisco video shoot for the Land of Nod song What's Your Name?, the reason for my whole trip, was fabulous. It was a guerilla-style, shoestring operation with a skeleton crew and grapefruit rinds for shoes, or whatever, but it was fun to get kicked out of several locations by navy-blazered security drones. The video will feature a giant robot costume, a pan-Asian dance corps, and a guitar solo scene where I make ridiculous "rock faces," according to the cameraman Bourgie T. Here is a picture of the core crew at our farewell breakfast. Notice that the director B.Perks has even longer monkey arms than I do, which allows him to take wide-angle self-portraits. As soon as I see a rough cut, you will too.
     ANYWAY back to complaining about Los Angeles: I decided to start walking like Captain Jack Sparrow on Melrose, because being around Californians always makes me acutely aware of my comparative sobriety. Can I say again that everyone in Los Angeles is stoned all the fucking time? Seriously, there were seven people in Raekool's living room on Sunday, and the six people who weren't me each had a cute little "you put your weed in it" box -- one utilitarian film canister, two twee cameo snuffbox deals, a triumphantly emptied lip balm canister, and two of those long-dead dotcom souvenir giveaway circular mint tins that snap when you close them and potheads can't get enough of them, oh my fucking god.
     But so, on that rare pedestrian expedition, I tried to stumble around like Johnny Depp's POTC:TCOTBP Keith Richards impression, with my hair mussed and sunglasses askew, with my fag-hand help foppishly aloft at shoulder height so it was easier to take frequent drags and blow tuburcular gusts of smoke at girls with yoga mats. What's the point, man? Nobody notices anybody in California because everyone is already trying so hard to be so lookit-me-I'm-fucking-crazy-put-me-in-your-movie, and anyway, Angelenos can only see through automotive glass, so I was invisible. Yes, invisible. Me. So I upped the ante a little, buggering random dogs and homeless people with those serrated things that fall off palm trees, and I was nominated for Governor.
     But as sketchy as I was trying to be, I was hopelessly outsketched at 2am in the parking lot of Wendy's Donuts (Ashley: "Dude, I don't know what a place has to do to only get a 'C' rating from the health inspectors. Are you sure about this?" -- apparently on the California letter-grading cleanliness system, a "D" means 90% rat turd content -- but it's donuts, brah, I have no illusion of health here) by a Nolte-looking dude with the dirtiest white pants I'd ever seen who mumbled something so unnervingly incoherent at our car that I had to drop the Pirate impression and put on my NYC don't-fuck-wit-me face, which sadly required the removal of the giant purple sunglasses. Damn! Hate the game, not the playa! Can a nigga get a table dance?
     There were a few signs of life during my visit. Zorgot and I honked encouragingly at three high school girls who were walking through Marina del Rey with handmade don't-vote-for-Arnold placards, one of which had an amusing diagram of a swastika with a line through it -- a bold anti-swastika stance, blondie, and kudos for that. Go high school, it's ya berfday!
     Also, I had a revelation that I must pass on to you readers: if you are at a party and somebody says that you look sexy, you must kiss them immediately, without saying a word, and then walk away. Do not grope, do not fuck, do not collect $200, but remember that the more people you kiss, the sexier you look, so the trick is iterative: the more you kiss, the more you kiss, and kissing is good karma. The Buddha loved a good tonsil-washing. Report your successes to Maggie -- she loves that shit.
posted by Universal Donor 3:28 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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