UNIVERSAL DONOR: MA VIE EN CROUTE

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HEAVY ROTATION

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

claude le monde
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rock 'em stock 'em
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drunken bee
stacey nightmare
elyse from ANTM
stereolabrat
dark side points
jf_franklin
123 i love you READ NOW
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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!


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© 2002-2010
Jeremy Broomfield



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PRAISE & REVIEWS

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

Monday, August 09, 2004
 
I look terrible with stubble, and I'm intensely jealous of men who can roll into work with three-day growth and make the secretarial pool all dizzy. I just look like street scum who got past security, no matter where I go. I'm catsitting at my mom's house again, and damn if I can do a goddamn thing when I'm there but watch TV, rent movies, and eat fruit. I certainly can't bathe, shave, do dishes, or, like, move. Ironically, I spent much of the weekend watching the X Games, whose participants are involved in the exact opposite of sitting on the couch eating cherries in your underpants (for photos, send cash). No revelation on that front, I guess; modern sports spectation has been synonymous with sloth for a while now.
     I like watching the X Games. This is not an embarrassing fact; anybody who is not impressed by professional vert skateboarding has a ball of salt where their heart should be and a bag of dirty syringes where their Sense of Childlike Wonder should be. This is my second year watching it with TiVo, which makes the experience about a kajillion times better*. In the old days, when you could only watch television in stupid, boring, 20th-century "real time," watching the X Games was almost impossible. Like, you could have your eyes open as it happened in front of you, but unless you were an expert in the particular event, you couldn't really process what had taken place. TiVo gives you a fighting chance at comprehension -- my thumbtip is blistery from taptaptapping the frame advance button through like forty minutes of footage -- but I still don't really understand what I saw.
     The so-called experts don't seem to help much. As in most sports broadcasting, the commentators are always ex-competitors, but the X Games dudes are charmingly untrained in the art of live sports comment. The concept of "play-by-play" is often lost on them, because during an especially good performance they go from naming the tricks to just screaming "dude!" and "WHOA!" and finally just variants of "AAAAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!"
     I'm convinced that the main reason it's impossible to process vert tricks is that they are actually impossible to perform. Impossible. Compared to skateboarders, all other athletes, including all Olympic athletes, are stumbling hunchbacks. This guy Bucky Lasek won Thursday's event with "a switch rodeo to switch heelflip backside 360 combo" which I won't even bother describing cuz I can't. I'm now a gibbering moron. I'm talking about sports. What is wrong with me?
     I'll try to analyze this more later, maybe. I want to explore the fact that I can watch something five times and still be unable to describe it, and the ramifications that has for the validity of eyewitness testimony in general. How come anybody trusts eyewitnesses? I bet if you looked at trial statistics, you'd find that most people are convicted/exonerated on the strength of witnesses over DNA evidence by a nauseatingly high factor. Somebody go look that up.
     I owned a skateboard for about a year, and I used it to get around okay without ever learning any tricks, mostly because I valued the integrity of my bones over looking cool, especially because a) I didn't look very cool on a skateboard and b) I found other ways to look cool (for tips, send cash). Also, skateboarding is very loud and not at all smooth -- my feet felt like jellysacs after two blocks. Watching the X Games, I'm glad that I didn't get into skating earlier, because I wouldn't have wanted to enter adulthood calling everybody I saw "bro," which is apparently a requirement of the lifestyle, along with listening to terrible music and mistreating women.
     I'll assume there are exceptions to these rules, and I'll go ahead and assume that one of them is Bob Burnquist (on the right), who I'm adding to my list of famous men I love. I'm not usually a sucker for a well-produced puff-piece human interest segment during a sports program ("Gibby has ten children and built his home out of twigs and loves his wife and Jesus and honky-tonkin' all night") so it wasn't that. I've been watching Bob for years, and he seems just swell. JUST SWELL. I was thinking of adding this kid John Robinson to my list too, but it seemed a little creepy. He's too pretty for the list. So pretty!

* Watch enough X Games and you'll begin to believe that "kajillion" is a real number

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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