Universal Donor

UNIVERSAL DONOR: MA VIE EN CROUTE
Universal Donor We can ill afford another Klendathu feed it up! \| UD email 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 TV on the Radio: Dear Science Walkmen: You & Me Fleet Foxes: Fleet Foxes Ratatat: LP3 Beach House: Devotion 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 © 2002-2008 Jeremy Broomfield Hosted by: HostRocket.Com Comments by: YACCS SITE STATS PRAISE & REVIEWS "[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 egeo huic vigorum MY WRESTLING NAME Titan Gently MY PUNK NAME Razor Ection WHO LINKS TO UD? • from Technorati • from Google • from Yahoo and here's something weird: my place in Humor 3-space	Monday, September 24, 2007 FASHION BLUNDERS OF 2007 Fashion is a really weird phenomenon to me, because it looks like a competition wherein women try to prove (to other women) their a) individuality (by dressing like everyone else), b) hottness (by wearing things that only other women think are flattering), and c) value (by showing how much money they can spend). Maybe because male attention is so easy to get, some women don't get enough validation from it, and are forced to find validation in self-defeating hierarchies of superficiality. I say it's self-defeating because in the end, superficiality will always lead to misery; even if you "win" in fashion, you lose. If you doubt this, ask Anna Wintour, the happiest woman in the world. Gah, you probably don't need me to tell you this. Hell, I don't even want to think about it anymore. I've been trying to write this paragraph for four days -- I must've deleted five judgmental drafty pages by now. If I go on I'll just sound grumpier. So: I admire hipster fashion in theory because like punk, it stems from a rejection of classic assumptions of attractiveness (like the notion that clothes should be clean, fit you, and not cause seizures in epileptics). But in practice I find it hard to keep my food down, sometimes. I will ignore the biblical plague of ass-flattening stretch jeans, because I am too baffled to even talk about them. But here are some other looks cluttering Brooklyn lately that make me want to hide indoors so I won't feel the agony that accompanies being so goddamn judgmental: Swampfoot� When I see a girl wearing boots in the summer (especially Uggs, or cowboy boots without apparent socks), I can't think anything but "wow, your feet must be a swampy, stanky mess right now." Calf-hugging boots in the winter: sexy. Thigh-high go-go boots in winter: acceptable, though perhaps trying a little hard. Combat boots (with (cotton) socks): always awesome. But you, Swampfoot, look like you can't take care of yourself. I want to treat you to a spa pedicure, during which I will take your boots and hide them until November. Hipster Greg Allman I can't find a good image for this abhorrent look, so send a link if you know of one, but I think the name says it all. Imagine Cisco Adler, except dirtier, with skintight pants, no trucker hat, and wearing Mischa's sunglasses. You might be asking "if you were griping above about women's fashion, why is there a dude here?" Simple: Hipster Greg Allman is almost always some hipster chick's accessory. Ten points if you spot one alone in the wild. Garbage Bag Dresses Oh, hi! You look like a bag of garbage. And you know how some of your friends tell you that empire waists are flattering, minimizing of big hips or an ample ass? Do not talk to those friends anymore, because they are trying to make you look bad so that they look better in comparison. The problems with garbage bag dresses: a) they actually don't minimize anything, b) they call attention to the fact that you think your parts need minimizing, and c) you look like you're wearing a Hefty Cinch Sak. Kicky Little Fedoras You are wearing a fedora. Read that sentence again. Fedora. Fedora. Fedora. If you have to ask what's wrong with that, YOU WILL NEVER KNOW.* Big Stupid Sunglasses All right, ladies. I am sorry to tell you this, but: your treasured giant sunglasses make you look cheap, stupid, like a piece of meat. The other day my pal T told me over the phone that she felt like dudes were being particularly gross: "I'm not wearing slutty clothes or anything unusual today, but men are ogling me like crazy. It's nasty." I asked if she was wearing big dark sunglasses, and she awarded me a prize for awesomeness, saying "how the fuck did you know that?" Simple: when you shield your eyes from other people, they cannot engage in a visual communication with you. Once their brain has ruled you out as a peer, a human being, they will look at your body. The quickest path to feeling like an object is to disqualify yourself as a subject. Does that make sense? I feel like this is going to need clarification.** * Okay: I know one person who manages to rock a little pinstriped fedora without looking like an abominable tardbag, but she's so adorable that you could wrap her in a tinfoil sweatsuit and you'd still go "awww...." I expect comments about "not wanting to engage with gross dudes" or "feeling safe in sunglasses" or whatever. I'm not saying that you should be making soulful eye contact with every dude on the street. Just that your shades objectify you in a way you might not expect, as opposed to like scoop necks or whale tails, with which you expect and encourage the objectification. Take off the shades and you will feel better. Try it. Try it before you say I'm crazy. OH AND DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT "SHADING YOUR EYES FROM THE SUN" EITHER. BULLSHIT! posted by Universal Donor 4:35 PM Tuesday, September 18, 2007 VARIOUS METALS THAT DOCTORS MADE ME INGEST IN THE LAST MONTH • Iron Sulfate • Magnesium citrate • Barium sulfate • Sodium chloride • Sodium bicarbonate • Potassium chloride You can't make me bionic by making me eat metals -- you're a doctor and you should know that. I don't care if you call them "salts" or "electrolytes" or whatever. I know what you're up to. QUIT IT. I HAVE STUPID DREAMS Five of these are real dreams I had in the last two weeks. Find the fake one. I dreamed that I made a minor edit to a wikipedia page but rebelliously refused to leave an explanation in the "edit summary" field. I dreamed that I created an online survey to ask my friends to describe any recent gastrointestinal issues they might have had. I dreamed I was about to have sex with an improbably hot woman but stopped because I did not have a condom, saying "oh well." I dreamed I found a very rare book about an animal so unusual that it is the sole member of its own phylum. I dreamed I forgot to lock the door on the way out of my house and I felt bad because I know my roommate hates that. I dreamed I had a nice warm bowl of pudding. I CALL BULLSHIT ON "STAYING TOGETHER FOR THE SAKE OF THE CHILDREN" Unhappy parents who postpone divorce "for the sake of the children" are fearful and selfish. Terrible damage is done to children by being raised by loveless, joyless parents. I am not suggesting that divorce is a once-way ticket to bliss -- just that an unhappy marriage is a bleeding wound, and divorce/separation is often the band-aid that lets healing begin. LET HEALING BEGIN PEOPLE. I also hate the idea, implicit in the "stay together" philosophy, that children are too daft to apprehend the misery of their parents just because they can't relate in the most literal sense. Here's a nice post from a group blog that illustrates my point in such a poignant way that my alter ego left an uncharacteristically breathless comment in response. AND CARL EVERETT STILL DOESN'T BELIEVE IN DINOSAURS, EITHER Televised, high-paid ignorance does not surprise me, even in the extreme form in this clip you might've seen from The View. But I can see that it kind of infuriates Whoopi, Joy, and even Barbara that they are forced to sit at a table with such stampeding, unrepentant stupidity. It seems clear that idiocy is tolerated from certain personalties simply because they look nice on TV and are more well-spoken or friendly than your more mainstream yokels. We reflexively give attractive people the benefit of the doubt, and we hesitate to criticize those who seem genuinely nice. But yokels is yokels, folks, whether pretty, educated, or just fucking bonkers. (Sorry for all the links.) EVIL THINGS YOU SHOULD NOT DO** 1. Walk up to a pair of beautiful, high-maintenance women in a fancy NY nightspot and ask the slightly less attractive of the two: "is it hard for your friendship that you're hotter than your friend here?" Watch their faces as they close ranks against you, offended at the suggestion that there is any hottmess differential between them. But then watch the actual hotter one bristle a bit at your misjudgment. Watch the less hot one notice or ignore that. Back away slowly. 2. Put puppies in a bag and hit it with a mallet until it stops barking/moving. 3. Throw an empty condom wrapper (of an odd brand) behind the dresser or under the bed of a happily married couple. It may take weeks or years to be discovered, but when it is... show them this post before they get divorced (for the sake of the children) so they will believe it was you. (Also, actual cheaters who get caught can point to this post as the probable source for the condom wrapper you failed to clean up after your real tryst. You're welcome.) posted by Universal Donor 4:11 PM Wednesday, September 05, 2007 BUZZKILLARY CLINTON So I think Hillary '68 looks cute in the pic at the top of this this Times article. Yes, a little serious, perhaps self-important, but I remember feeling the same way in college over a minor censorship incident -- whereas Hill was looking serious in 1968, when shit actually was serious, f'reals. I know it's shitty to say of a female presidential candidate "aww, look, how cute," and I definitely wouldn't say it about Fred Thompson, though not because he's a man -- he seriously looked like a 70s-style serial killer in the 70s and now he just looks... like this. With Hillary, I'm not being patriarchically indulgent of her whimsical (and probably menses-induced) executive aspirations; I'm just grasping for signs of a real person under that frosty-coiffed and pantsuited exterior. So, searching for signs of humanity, I see this old picture of '68 Hillary and I say she looks cute, but you know what? It really only works when I imagine '68 Hillary doing things that a presidential candidate would never admit to or talk about. Then she seems cute. I will spare you the details here. (For details, send $2 via PayPal; ask for "Late Nite in the Law Library with The Student Body Prez") The article says she never used drugs. How did someone AVOID using drugs on campus in 1968? She must have been a serious buzzkill.* Even forty years into the future, I feel judged by her past self. Screw you, Hill! LIGHTEN UP. THEY'RE ALL GETTING MARRIED Congrats to my pal Lindsey -- you know you're cool when the news of your wedding is broken by Perez Hilton. Well, either you're cool, or you're in serious trouble. AND I'M GETTING OLD I just noticed that I am hairier than I was the last time I noticed how hairy I was. Do girls really like hairy wrists? I'm like Teen Wolf over here. Bristly. What's happening to me? My theory: I'm getting older. My teeth have turned into magnets for food particles, I guess, and they are decaying faster than the dentist can bash them out of my jaw. My spleen is in a glass by my bed, my walker needs oiling, and my croup is acting up. OMG, JK, SRSLY. I am at the height of my powers. I'm awesome. Your very existence is a fart in the hurricane of my destiny. I destroy galaxies with a thought. ------------ * You know, like that cryptofundamentalist Residence Coordinator down the hall (CFRC: Hey, gang, what are you up to tonight? Any wild parties going down? ALL: Fuck off, narc!), or that girl with who refused to huff even one freaking Whip-It because she had "epilepsy." posted by Universal Donor 10:36 AM HOME	OTHER REVIEWS: John from Cincinnati Menomena 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"