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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

  So I didn't have the InTerWeb access, the time, or the inclination to update you from afar during this vacation except for that last post. But big ups to Gregor, for filling my size thirteens! Way to keep the people entertained in my absence! You really satisfied our readers' need for wit, observational humor, and, of course, irony! Blogger of the year award to you! You lazy hobo-blowing fucktard!
     I kept thinking that I should write a Fear Not Guide to California, but I didn't get very far in my thinking about it, because Los Angeles does not encourage thought of any kind. There are all these distractions that conspire to ruin your concentration, like traffic, ridiculous-looking women, and frankly improbable amounts of sunshine. But here are some rough sketches:


Clouds: Los Angelenos look at the sky and call it "overcast" when the smog obscures some string of hills or another. They can't play cloud-shape games, and [insert SPF/IQ joke here].

Hippies: Here's a stolen (and probably mangled) anecdote related to me by B.Perks about west coast hippiedom:

A craggy old hippie dude with dumb white dreadlocks and stupid ugly tie-dyed everything is pushing a baby carriage filled with homemade pot pipes and other weed paraphernalia. He yells "Crazy hippie shit! I got craaazy hippie shit here!" An equally filthy but teenaged hippie runaway-looking girl, also with white dreads, walks up to the dude.
     "Aw, duude," she moans, "those are so awesome!" She frowns. "I only wish I had some money. Or some weeeed!"
     "Well hey," says Craggy, "I live around the corner, and my wife just baked some pot brownies! Why don't you come over and have some?"
     Filthy moans more, saying "AWWWW Dude! That sounds awesome, but I can't -- I'm lactose intolerant!"
     "DUDE!" shouts Craggy, "That's okay! THEY'RE VEGAN!!!!!!"
     Together they walk off into the psychedelic sunset, leaving an inviolable cloud of stanking patchouli behind them like a bad memory. The world vomits.

Hummers: More Cars = more Hummers, which is depressing, and makes me rethink my position on gun control for fully automatic assault rifles. Like isn't the H2 supposed to be bulletproof? Don't you want to test that? Not on the windows or anything, or while the vehicle is occupied, but in a parking lot? Target practice time! Try the tires! Try the engine block! TRY A FUCKING FLAMETHROWER.

Pacific Ocean: Sometimes you can get someone to take you to the beach, but if you mention a desire to go in the water, they will look at you like you have herpes sores surrounding your eyesockets. There is actually a Water Quality report on the news radio station (just after the Traffic and Weather reports, which are totally unnecessary, because the traffic and weather are always the same (q.v.)) and LA residents will not even get their toes wet unless the report says that the AIDS content of the ocean is lower than 800,000 parts per million, which it never is. The LA ocean is AIDS all the time.

Redwoods: We went to Muir Woods National Monument outside of SF (the place in Vertigo) and those trees are really impressive. Not to sound all hippie, but sometimes nature can really take your breath away. The grandeur of it all is only slightly tempered when J.Ro keeps insisting that you hide inside a hollowed out trunk, wait 'til some unsuspecting parkgoer walks by, and then jump out "like you live there." But it's especially nice to be safe on the redwood forest floor if the guy who drove you there is a fucking lunatic who thinks that he can see around blind curves and that testing the gription of his tires on winding cliffside roads at 60 mph is the only real proof that he owns testicles.

Screenplays: When you drive over the border into LA County, you get a bizarre desire to type up some dialogue in an arcane format of centered 12pt courier. Everybody has a screenplay, and they're all totally awesome. Totally, brah.

Tap Water: Really varies from neighborhood to neighborhood, but seems to originate, lightly filtered, straight from the ocean, which see above. The water in Culver City on Tuesday tasted like semen.

Women: Every woman in LA is required by law to walk around with a string up her asscrack and to wave her arms around like a nincompoop if you smoke a cigarette within 20 yards of her frosty hairdo. Maybe silicone reacts with tobacco in some explosive way? Wow, that would be awesome. Imagine: you walk up to a tarded bimbette who got rejected from Blind Date for being too stupid (as if!) and you blow a stream of smoke at her redonculous boobsacs, then you take cover behind an H2 and count to five, at which point BOOM, and a wet rain of brine, blood, and a thin gruel of bimbo "brains."


     Anyway, Then I get bored, and so do you. So in summary, I bought the awesomest book ever at a San Francisco used bookstore. The vacation was the tonic I needed, and the perfect length too. In fact, when the plane touched down at JFK I actually shed a gay little tear to be coming home. Maybe I was just showing off for the cynical gum-snapping flight attendant, or maybe my spine was weeping in anticipation of sleeping on the only comfortable mattress in the world, or maybe depressurization just sucked the fluid out of my ducts. Or maybe I love New York. I'm back, bitches. Holla like you want some!
posted by Universal Donor 4:38 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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