Restless Legs Syndrome.

Have you ever seen an ad for some bullshit medical problem on TV and been like 'I have that'?

Well, I have.

It's called Restless Legs Syndrome and it affects those who thirst and hunger for something more out of their lives. Of course, the doctors want you to think that medicine can cure it, but doctors just want to make money off of some drug that is only good for getting you addicted to something new. Yeah, like I fucking need that.

This is what Wikipedia has to say on the subject:

"Any type of inactivity involving sitting or lying—reading a book, a plane ride, watching TV or a movie, taking a nap—can trigger the sensations and urge to move. This depends on several factors: the severity of the person’s RLS, the degree of restfulness, the duration of the inactivity, etc."

It sounds like somebody just needs some goddamn exercise. Never mind the fact that we live in a society that stresses the hell out of us every single day of our godforsaken lives. Aghh, it drives me crazy!!!

I need a stiff drink and someone to punch in the mouth. Oh, and if you "actually" have that and are offended by this, you can fuck right off because I have no goddamn sympathy for anyone who is coaxed in to believing this crap. Where is Denis Leary when you really need him?

~Michael Fucking Carlos  

1.20.09 - The Beginning is the End is the Beginning...

Well, the day is finally here. Bush has left office. In his place stands a man with a whole helluva lot of work to do and a microscopic environment in which to go about his business. Can Obama do it?

As a college student, I felt a strong emotional rush come over me on November 4th. It was unlike anything I've ever experienced in my life. This man stood in front of the entire world on that night and accepted its challenge to save it. It was very hard to avoid feeling a sense of pride on that day--to know that in some small way I was a part of this.

Pride.

Two things of importance happened over the last 24 hours. Irish rock band U2 premiered their new single, "Get On Your Boots." As an avid fan of the group, I eagerly awaited its arrival by listening online to Rte Radio 2fm in Ireland, which played the song on the air at 3:10 AM Eastern Standard Time. A jolt of joy ran through my bloodstream as I repeatedly listened to the hypnotic rhythms and wonderfully unfamiliar melodies of the sixth track off of the band's forthcoming album, No Line on the Horizon. With the naivete of hopeful youth, I gaze out my window at the peaceful calm of the Charles River, and I see with my eyes and feel in my heart no line on the horizon.

The second thing that happened was the fact that when I awoke this morning, I did not have any classes in observance of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. What a magnificent day that we all too often take for granted as just another Monday without any school. Well not today. I went about my business as usual: reading for class tomorrow, having lunch with my sister, dinner with good friends, but something was different. Something intangible was following me all day. It was like I was walking with a ghost.

Now nothing of any particular significance happened to me today, but I was overcome by pride and felt joyful at my very existence on this planet. In my excitement over the new single, I listened to almost every song in U2's canon. When I got to "Pride (In the Name of Love)," tears welled up in my eyes. The opening guitar riff that is absolutely timeless and heroic coupled with the most perfect lyrics.

One man come in the name of love

One man come and go

One man come here to justify

One man to overthrow

In the name of love

What more in the name of love

In the name of love

What more in the name of love

One man caught on a barbed wire fence

One man he resist

One man washed up on an empty beach

One man betrayed with a kiss

In the name of love

What more in the name of love

In the name of love

What more in the name of love

Early morning, April four

Shot rings out in the Memphis sky

Free at last, they took your life

They could not take your pride

What else is there to say?

MEN, LISTEN UP: PMS Symptoms On The Rise

Now that the FDA has warned consumers to avoid peanut butter indefinitely, we are all at risk to be attacked by something much more deadly than salmonella: Women on their periods. 

Of course, most men know to steer clear of the fairer (psh, right) sex during that time of the month. However, my research indicates that the only reason women are able to show any type of emotional restraint whatsoever during these intervals is the combination of chocolate with peanut butter.

No Reese's Peanut butter cups mean that she will be chewing you out instead.

But don't fear, comrades, I have come up with a few handy tips on how to handle the women in your life.

1. Do not, under any circumstances, initiate conversation with any woman regarding her mother, bitchy friend, co-workers, or any women whom she perceives to be prettier than her.

2. Actually listen to her when she's in  a complaining mood (which will be always). I know this will be hard, but you might have to turn off the TV.

3. Do not make eye contact with any woman whom you do not already know. Chances are that she will take it the wrong way and subsequently kick your ass.

THE GOLDEN RULE: If all else fails, eat a whole jar of chunky style Skippy, get salmonella poisoning and take solace in the sweet release of death.

Until next time,

~The man without a plan

2009 - I Wanna Sink to the Bottom with You

2008 is over. 

Thank God.

Time to make some New Year's Resolutions.

I resolve to:

1. Host a '50s theme cocktail party and outdrink everyone else there. Then 

I'll cheat on my subservient, suburban housewife with a hot, young secretary from my firm, where I sell the lie of the American dream. Then I'll drive home. The Real American Dream.

2. At the very least, play one show with The Clap!, an amazing musical group that I helped found. C'mon everybody, get the Clap!

3. Win a staring contest with an 8-year-old.

I'm just gonna let the awesomeness of that one settle in.

4. Build my credit....card debt.

5. Steal your girlfriend.

6. Kick your ass.

7. Wake up from my delusions of grandeur.

8. Improve my wardrobe to an acceptable adult level.

9. Finally write my first groundbreaking novel.

10. Travel the countr--nay, the world!

11. Stay afloat in the failing economy, or sink to the bottom with the one I love--that's right, YOU, my loyal reader.

Try to keep your heads above the swell, ladies and gentlemen. It's going to be a long swim. 

In 2009, the Chinese year of the Ox, let's hope we can be as stubborn as an ox,  as sly as a fox, as brave as a lion, and as lucky as a leprechaun, or else we're fucked. 

See you in Hell,

~MC

I'm gonna start posting more often, I swear.

So I haven't written anything on here since I promised to write about my summer.

I didn't fulfill that promise, so why should you expect me to follow up on this one? I'll tell you why: because I am angry and filled with things to say and if I don't get them out then I fear I might combust.

Anyway, I'm gonna keep this one short and sweet but expect some rants to appear in the coming weeks.

As always,

~Miguel Charles

Oh, P.S. My friend Jill is studying abroad in France for the year. I've provided you with a link to her blog in the--wait for it-- "Links" section on the right side of the page. It's the one with the French title (don't worry, it's in English). Read up on Jill's zany misadventures in scenic Grenoble. There are pictures. You'll like it.

New Poll Question

By the way, this question is totally a joke. If you find it inappropriate, you're an idiot and you've missed the point completely.

It's kind of my immature college equivalent of the fourth grade note that reads:

do you like me? (circle one) 

YES NO MAYBE

And if anyone's interested my number is 867-5309. For a good time, call.

Summer is for Fucking (Part 1)

I thought it was about time to make a new post here. I've learned to hate this Godforsaken blog over the past few months, but I'm gonna try to turn it around in time for the beginning of classes in the fall.

Summer is for fucking because summer is when all the cool kids have sex on the beach and under shady trees and in public restrooms--wait, scratch that last one, that's pathetic, lonely old men, but at least they're getting laid--and the losers like me continually get fucked by everyone but the girl of my dreams. And also because I say the word fuck a lot.

First of all, Fuck you, Grassroots Campaigns Inc., you suck. You take money from people without being able to tell them where it's going. While briefly working for you, I quickly realized that that's because it's going to lobbyists and special interest groups, you fucking hypocrites. "We're nonpartisan, we swear." Oh yeah? Is that why you have a picture of John McCain likened to Hitler in your New York canvassing office and you start off the day by saying left is right and right is wrong. I don't care whether I support Obama or not, don't tell me that you're nonpartisan and then shove liberal views down people's throats. I'm not a conservative, but i'm also not a fucking liar, which is more than I can say for GCI. Good riddance, motherfuckers.

By the way, after I quit, these high class employers withheld my pay for the two days I spent out on the street, discovering that Europeans will stop when you look them in the eye but Americans will pretend to be on the phone or just ignore you entirely. I still haven't received the money, and frankly, I wouldn't accept it anyway. When I came back to the office with a large number of stops (people who stop to talk to me and my clipboard) but only $60 on my first day out, and in the pouring rain I might add, I was informed that I needed more training in how to 

get those people to give me their money. The problem is why would anyone give their credit card information to a man on the streets of New York with a clipboard and no identification proving his affiliation to the group that he claims to be representing. I wouldn't and neither should you, because chances are that it's a swindle. Therefore I quit and was essentially fucked as I had wasted all of my money from my job in Boston and didn't even have the prospects for another job. I know, not entirely their fault but nevertheless I was fucked. But that's what the summer is for.

I didn't proofread this post, so please excuse the typos and mindless errors that I may have made. 

I'll be updating this more throughout the summer as I find more examples of why summer is for fucking, or in my case, for getting fucked. 

My List

If you want some background info on why I'm doing this read the lengthy post that follows this one. My apologies to those of you who don't have the time or attention span to devote to reading more than a paragraph or two. 

The book inspired me to make my own list of childhood dreams, or goals, and to do a check-up of sorts to see how I'm coming along.

1. Become a professional baseball player.

~Status: Failed. However, I did just kick my floormates' asses in some MLB 2K8. I don't care if Sutie's never played before, I'll still be greedy on the basepaths.

2. Go to college. Don't drop out. (Sorry, Dad, but I've always been nervous that I'd take the same route you did. Hope you understand.)

~Status: In production. So far, so good, I haven't cracked under the pressure yet.

3. Get married to a woman that I love with all my heart.

~Status: Fuck, does this one seem like a difficult task at the moment. Maybe in a few years, these girls won't be so fuckin' self-absorbed. Or maybe I'll have the balls to pursue the ones who aren't so self-absorbed. By the way, your obsession with MTV and celebrity gossip makes you LESS appealing.

4. Have kids. Love said kids with all of said heart.

~Status: Complete step 3 first.

5. Go to Ireland.

~Status: In discussions with sister about proposed future trip to Europe. I'm confident this one will happen.

6. Write a book.

~Status: Well, I'm honing my skills as a writer through the employment of this blog as well as improving myself with the criticism and assistance of BU's writing faculty.

7. Become a famous musician.

~Status: Most likely not going to happen; however, striving towards this goal with my heart completely immersed in it for two years really helped me to mature and grow. My continued guitar-playing and songwriting is also an excellent release for everyday stresses and a superb form of self therapy. I'm a fucking artist. Two people will get that joke.

8. Be healthy (as far as it is under my control to do so).

~Status: In progress. I'm in shape, but not as good as I wanna be. Need to eat healthier and do more fun athletic things that I haven't done as much since coming to college.

9. Help People.

~Status: This one's a doozy. I really got ambitious on this one. I envision a future in which I have done everything in my power to alleviate any and all peoples from as much pain as it is in my power to do. If I can, then I should.

Okay, I'm really fuckin' tired; I'm going to sleep. Seriously, please leave comments, I'm curious to see how people respond to these last two posts. Any and all feedback and/or criticism is welcomed and appreciated.

Peace & Love,

~The Mick

Childhood Dreams

It's 5:32 AM, and I'm wide awake and feel inexplicably alive. I'm in one of those places mentally where you just feel like you're on top of the world. I read a book today called The Last Lecture. It was written by Randy Pausch with Jeffrey Zaslow, a columnist for The Washington Post. Pausch is a computer scientist and professor who was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in 2006 that would unfortunately spread to his liver and spleen. 

In August of 2007, he was given months to live and began palliative chemotherapy to try to ease the pain and buy him a few extra months. Anyway, Randy decided that he wouldn't just give up and so, in September, he gave a lecture at Carnegie Mellon entitled "Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams." He became semi-famous after giving this lecture, with an appearance on The Oprah Winfrey Show in October and an hour-long interview with Diane Sawyer that aired April 9th on ABC.

For Randy, he points all of his success to his upbringing and credits his parents with allowing him to achieve his dreams. He likes cliches and quotes from other people, because they are full of wisdom and when you say things that smart people say, it's easy to look smart yourself; so, as Randy says, "We cannot change the cards we are dealt, just how we play the hand." I, too, love cliches and really appreciate the fact that my parents impart their wisdom on to me.

So, here's my brief (pshh, yeah right, am I ever brief when I become impassioned?) summary of how I came to be reading the book today and subsequently writing this entry. My mom likes to send me chain e-mails with "uplifting" messages. Most of the time, they are written by middle-aged white women who, no offense, don't know shit and need to rely on recycled spiritual garbage to stay positive about their mediocre upper middle class existence. You know, the Oprah crowd. Anyway, sometimes mi madre can be one of them and she sent me a clip from Oprah that showed Randy reprising his "Last Lecture." Long story short, I'm a loser, and I was inspired by what he had to say.

Fast forward a few days. I feel inspired once again, but in a different sense. I just saw economist Jeffrey Sachs give a speech to some students about the economic health of this country and the things that can be done in order to end poverty. He has a new book, too, called Common Wealth. So after dinner, I decided to take a stroll over to the Barnes & Noble in Kenmore Square to pick it up. As I'm browsing through the shelves (one of my favorite pastimes), I stumble upon a copy of The Last Lecture and decide to buy it as a gift for my mother. To pay for my purchases that day, I whipped out my trusty B&N gift card, which I received when returning a textbook my father paid for and by using his membership card for 10% off. Thanks Mom and Dad, always there to help even when you are not really there.

So I was having a good day today, the weather was beautiful, why not take a few minutes to glance through a few pages, see if it's any good? Two hours and 206 pages later, here I am, with a newfound sense of hope. Oh, I almost forgot to mention that my grandmother passed away three years ago after a long battle with pancreatic cancer. If you want to make a donation or find out more about the disease, check out these charitable websites: The Pancreatic Cancer Action Network, and The Lustgarten Foundation for Pancreatic Cancer Research because c'mon, seriously, who doesn't wanna help cure cancer?

Okay, so, wow, I've been rambling. Anyway, if you wanna read an excerpt from the book or see the reprisal of the lecture on Oprah, check them out below. And be sure to read my list of childhood dreams up above and leave a comment on your childhood dreams.

New Link Posted; Je ne sais quoi

Hey guys,

My friend Jill (who can apparently look sexy and creepy all at the same time--see right) is going abroad to France in the spring, and we will all dearly miss her. Anyway, she will be chronicling her zany adventures commencing in September of this year. She speaks French and has recently come to the conclusion that all of the electronics in her life have decided to revolt against her, for serious.

Wicked sweet!

What's the equivalent of  Spanglish when combining the French and English languages? Frenglish, perhaps. Anyway, I assume that her entries will be written in Frenglish. As always, ridiculousness prevails.

Good luck, Jill!

With nothing but love and support,

~Your friend Michel (Je parle Francais?)

P.S. See you in a few weeks at the GSU Tech Rock Band Party!! Augh Yeeaah!!!!!!

Freedom

So, in case you hadn't noticed, my previous post was an exercise in free speech and I suppose also freedom of the press--which, for the uneducated or unappreciative, gives me the right to employ the use of any words that I desire in order to express myself. This right is monumentally important in understanding why America is such a great country to live in as well as something that we as Americans tend to take for granted--especially in times like these when we feel oppressed by our government (and rightly so) when we should be looking towards the future with hope for change.

It's why I am able to verbally litter all over the internet despite the fact that what I have to say may not be important to anybody but me. But I am allowed to say it, for whatever reason, even with malicious intent in my heart if I so choose. Unfortunately, I oft times choose to express myself with a cynical view of the world. Over the last few days, however, I've been in a much more positive place, and I now strive to embrace the rights given to me by our forefathers and potentially give thanks for the protection I am granted by the government (when they want to--that was a joke, people, loosen up; I can still make them). 

I believe in an America where our children can grow up without fear, an America where people of all different ethnic backgrounds

and heritages can live together in harmony, and an America in which I can express myself freely, profess faith to whichever god I choose, or even no god at all, an America where I have the right to my privacy, an America in which I am given the opportunity to live freely in the pursuit of happiness for both my family and myself. 

Never give up on America. We are more than a country. We are a beacon of hope, a light in the darkness. We are built around ideas and the free expression of those ideas, whether someone else likes it or not. We are leaders for the world over. And now more than ever, it is crucial that we display our values. The world's getting smaller and that means that our generation is presented with the unique opportunity to help save it. Everyone's watching, let's try not to fuck this one up.

~Michael Carlos

P.S. You see how I slipped the expletive in there at the end. Yep, I still got it. 

Fucking Retards!!!

Bill Gates is not giving away his fucking fortune you mindless fucking idiots. Why would he pay everyone thousands of dollars to send out an e-mail when everyday billions of e-mails are sent anyway? Out of the kindness of his heart, he just wanted to repay all of the fat lazy Americans
who made him rich in the first place. NOT!!

Okay, now, if you get an e-mail telling you this, and you send it on to people, then you are only furthering the perpetration of fraud against the general public. I don't really give a shit if you do that because the general public is amassed of other mindless fucking idiots like yourselves.

This bullshit chain letter has been circulating on the internet for over four years now. But here's the kicker: at current count 97,397 people are in a group on facebook dedicated to this. First of all, even if you were dumb enough to believe the story, how does joining a group on facebook make you any money? And don't say you joined it because you thought it was funny, you know that deep in your heart you actually sort of believed it, you greedy fucking bastards.

Anyway, the world's gonna fucking end, we're all gonna fucking die, and it's all your fucking fault.

Thanks again.

See you in Hell,

~Michael Fucking Carlos 

New Link Posted; Check This Out

So, a friend of mine from high school is not quite as lazy as I am and began writing a daily rant on facebook. His rants are hysterical. He has now decided to post them as a blog on this website. So for anybody who visits my blog and is bored because I never update it, check his out. Be careful, though, because he might take a picture of you in the mirror.

You can find the link to his blog, Jacques Daily Rant, on the right hand side of the page under the title (duh?!) 'Links'.

Cool. I'm done. More later...