UNIVERSAL DONOR: MA VIE EN CROUTE
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Universal Donor
We can ill afford another Klendathu 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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Thursday, March 17, 2005
I work in midtown, which is ground zero for parades, and today is the most Irish of all parades, the St. Patrick's Day parade. I had to fight my way through kilted and pipe-weildling throngs of marchers and masses, ten-deep, of deluded fat onlookers with "kiss me, I'm Irish!" hats/pins/sashes on. Here are my alternate shirt ideas:
• Kiss me, I'm drinking beer at 10am on a Thursday! • Kiss me, your local firehouse is empty! • Kiss me, kilts and bagpipes are Scottish, but who knows the difference? • Kiss me, I have terrible acne scars from childhood! • Kiss me, I sunburn easily! • Kiss me before I stink of piss and vomit! Oh wait, I always stink of piss and vomit -- I'm Irish! Whatever. I'm walking with a cane and the cop won't let me cross 5th avenue to get to my office. "yuse gotta go down to fortyseckint, fwah-two, to crew-oss." I look at him, look down at my cane, and look back up at him, hoping he'll make the giant mental leap implied by my not-so-subtle glancings. But he's just really pissed that he's been assigned to manage pedestrian traffic while all of his buddies get to booze it up, tell racist jokes, and wear their fancy version of their uniforms, flashing their bare legs at each other and trying to keep gay cops, firefighters, and Irishmen from marching alongside them because everyone knows the gay AIDS is catching. Goddamn, aren't I too old to hate cops? Shouldn't I feel comforted by their presence? Well I ain't. Sometimes I like to pretend, during an argument, that I have a very close relative in the armed forces, so that I Can say things like "I support our troops and I want my brother to come home on his feet instead of in a box without any feet." I do this because one time I was talking to someone for a work thing, and I was like "what do you think of the war" and she was like "well I have family in the military, so I support the war." Does that follow? I know that there are some with the mindset that no matter how you feel about the idea of a war before it's declared, one must support it after it is for the sake of I'm not sure what. But wouldn't having a family member in the military make one awfully critical of any proposed conflict? Well, I don't actually ever really pretend that I've got a fighting sibling, because I'd crumble under cross-examination. I'd have to make up a unit, or a specialty or something. Or, like, a branch of the Armed Forces. Hmm. I could always just answer any queries with a hissed and critical "hey-- loose lips sink ships, bitch! I ain't saying a word, Ilse! Peddle your papers elsewhere!" Asterix the Gaul is not very good in hindsight. Tintin, however, holds up, despite the "comic" relief of those two cops and the stupid dog that goes "wwoooooaaaaaooooohhhww," a sound no dog in history has ever made. Dudes, there is something wrong with m' fingers, and every other word I write has a typo in it. I swear, it's gotten unbelievably bad. So no more typing for today. [e.g., here's what I just wrote, un-proofed: "and every pther word I wrtie has a typo in it. I sware, it's gotten unbelievebaly bad."] 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 |