Universal Donor
We can ill afford
another Klendathu

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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

  I said goddamn. As you may have noticed, the website was down for like a millennium this weekend -- down for so long I almost forgot what it looked like -- which left me with nothing to do but sweat. Not like I ever post on weekends, but you know how you feel when a website isn't working. Like what if it never comes back? OMG! So I did weird things all weekend. Like folding the futon in the living room down into bed formation, just for a change of pace. Then I turned on the air conditioner, because I have trouble sitting still, and if I move I have trouble staying undrenched with sweat. I tried to sleep during the day like a Mediterranean, with mild success. Sunday night was like the tenth consecutive garbage night that my roommates have been coincidentally absent, forcing me to deal with the gawbidge aw by my wonesum. Poo-uh me!
     So then in order to feel powerful, I went out into the staircase, thinking maybe I could flex a little for the children in the building, who like nothing more than to laugh at white twentysomethings. But what the fuck was this? I smell gas! Now a chance to really make things happen! I called 311, which is like prep school for calling 911 in New York City. If you don't know, it's supposed to be the city information line, where you can find out your garbage pickup days, or parking rules, or where your polling place is, or where to find a hooker who doesn't mind cuts as long as they're small. But so I call and tell them kinda offhandedly that I smell gas in my building's staircase. I was like: no biggie, but I smell gas. Could you inform Con Edison for me, thanx. But the operator was all: Please hold for 911. I was like "What? Seriously? Because they're gonna send fire trucks, aren't they?" She goes "Please hold."
     So for two sweaty minutes, I wondered whether I had really smelled gas or whether it was just rotting garbage in the courtyard, which actually woudn't be too far-fetched. But sure enough, woop woop, two GINORMULUS fire trucks pull up, laden with firemen in that arctic gear they wear all year. I sure hope the underlayer wicks away moisture. "Wicks away moisture," ewww. They come up the stairs via magic teleportation and they bang on the third floor doors, and at this point I'm feeling preemptively VERY sheepish, in case they can't smell it and I'm revealed to be a dangerous crank. I've already started shoveling ice cream down my throat to try to put out the raging fire of guilt in my belly. But it turns out that a neighbor's pilot light had gone out. So I'm a goddamn hero. What the fuck have you done lately?
posted by Universal Donor 4:56 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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