UNIVERSAL DONOR: MA VIE EN CROUTE
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Universal Donor
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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 
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Monday, May 24, 2004
The reason vacations are refreshing is that you spend a lot of time doing things that are not part of your routine, or I suppose the opposite is really what matters: that your real life is draining because of its routine. The sameness, repetition, and the utter lack of the unexpected will kill your joie de vivre faster than a POW camp full of Christians.
Well I went to a roller disco last night, which is different, and I was totally assaulted by the owner, a pissed-off black matron named Brenda who blamed me for the fact that business was bad. Not that it was my fault, but I was standing closest to her when we showed up at 10:15, as she was closing the doors for lack of neighborhood rolling enthusiasm. "Why y'all coming now? It's 10:15! I just closed up!" she yelled into my face. "We called last week," said the birthday boy and organizer, B.Perks, "and the message said you were open from nine to midnight." "Yeah!" she screamed, "NINE O'CLOCK! NOT TEN FIFTEEN," grabbing my lapels for emphasis. "We couldn't ever get a human being on the phone, so we had to trust the message," said B.Perks, taking shelter behind my body. "What number did you call?" asked Brenda, suspicious as a dad meeting his daughter's date on prom night. "Uh... 5558?" he hazards. At this, Brenda made a noise that was supposed to be like an interrogative "enh?" which is often accompanied by a saucy eyebrow waggle, but when she made the noise, it sounded like an old-fashioned air-raid siren starting up: "eehhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnNNNNNNNNNHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRR!?!?!?" and it was scary as hell. "Oh... should I have called 5559?" he asked, confused. "OHN-HUH! EXACTLY!" she screamed, as if we were the biggest collection of totally retarded short-bus lunatics for calling one of her listed phone numbers. Retards! Anyway, whatever, she basically threatened the others with bodily harm, which she demonstrated the form such harm would take by throwing an elbow into my chest and then shoulder-checking me a couple of times until my breath was ragged and pointy, but then she let us in to her precious roller rink, saying "Y'all better buy some snacks!" See, at home, I would never expect to be treated that way by the proprietor of a business who wanted my money. California vacation is awesome! Roller disco is fun, but now my legs are really sore from hours of skating in an oval, almost like it was exercise! Unexpected! I never exercise at home. In fact, the last time my legs were this sore, it when I was in California! Also, though it is too early yet to declare definitively that my long-absent sex drive has returned for good, it has certainly moved into the guest room and put some toiletries on the bathroom sink. There are some pretty people in San Francisco, and they like to walk around on the street. The pretty girls here tend to have piercings and tattoos that encroach on what J.Ro calls "the employment line," but since I'm just window shopping it don't matter. Don't you think sometimes that if you have a kid with a tattooed person that the baby might come out already inked? Anyway, I'm doing that thing where I can't help but say "hi howareya?" under my breath whenever I walk by a pretty girl. "Hi there." It's obnoxious, but it's not like I'm saying "hey holla at me baby bring that fat butt over here so I can smack on that ass with my dick, bitch, holla!" 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 |