There is so much to catch up on. First off, obviously I’m not a good blogger. Secondly, 2013??? Uh, Mayans, can you say “WRONG MUCH”!!! I missed a lot of laughs in the past six or so months. There were so many pertinent social phenomena on which you were probably looking for someone’s wry, irreverent, wacky opinion, specifically someone NOT named Charles. I am sorry I let you down. PS I’m not really sad about stuff anymore! I had a great summer, have a cool new job, and other things in my social life have progressed but I’m not making the same mistake of talking about my love life on the internet. I LEARNED MY LESSON OK?

SPORTS! My first post was about the Super Bowl (RIP The Giants’ 2012-2013 season). This one is too. The Harbaugh brothers are heading to the big show, in a game that will forever be known as the “Harbowl” because sportscasters absolutely live for name- or place-based puns. It’s what they got into sports journalism for in the first place.

What you guys didn’t know, but probably guessed, is that the Harbaugh brothers are super competitive. The Harbowl is just another in a long line of Brother v. Brother events in the storied history of Jim and the other one (John? I could google it but who cares, Jim’s gonna win. Jim coaches the 49ers, right?). 

Through some expert hijinks and all-around gumption, I recently uncovered the Harbaugh brothers’ list of random competitions they’ve had with each their entire lives. Call it the Harbaughlympics. The Harbathalon. The Winter Harbaughlympics. 

Published for the first time anywhere on the internet, I give you Harbaugh v. Harbaugh:

Whoever owns the more expensive automobile is the winner of the Carbowl. 

Whoever can spot Orion’s Belt first is the winner of the Starbowl.

Whoever can slay more mystical-looking Arctic Ocean-dwelling whales is the winner of the Narbowl. 

Whoever makes the best strawberry jam in the winner of the Jarbowl.

Whoever has to travel the longest distance to New Orleans is the winner of the Farbowl.

Whoever has nicer kitchen countertops is the winner of the Marbowl.

Whoever draws better out-dated, racist cartoons is the winner of the Tarbowl. 

Whoever can do more pull-ups is the winner of the Barbowl. (Not as clever)

Whoever can teach a better moral using allegory is the winner of the Parbowl. 

Whoever turns into a Werewolf first is the winner of the Rawrbowl. 

Whoever can write a better academic essay comparing Ben Affleck the Director to Ben Affleck the Actor is the winner of the Argbowl. 

Whoever gets eaten by a giant space-slug is the winner of the Gwarbowl. 

Whoever can solve for X fastest is the winner of the Varbowl.

Whoever can hand-make the most realistic “Alex from Clockwork Orange” Halloween costume is the winner of the Yarbowl.

Whoever cooks pork the slowest is the winner of the Charbowl. 

Whoever spends the most time in China without contracting a disease is the winner of the Sarbowl. 

Whoever has sex with the oldest woman is the winner of the Demi Morbowl. 

Whoever can annoy their father the quickest is the winner of the Irebowl. 

Whoever’s team has the most Notre Dame alumni is the winner of the Irebowl II. 

Whoever voted for George W. Bush the most times is the winner of the Warbowl. 

Whoever brings the best snacks to a camping trip is the winner of the Smorbowl. 

Whoever gets a retroactive CGI’ed cameo in a Ryan Gosling indie film is the winner of the Real Girl and Larbowl. 

WELL there you have it. Man was this post HORRORBOWL. (I GUARANTEE an announcer says that about whoever loses.)

Carbowl, Starbowl, and any other “Bowls” mentioned on this Microblog, or appearing in any other linked social media platforms are the registered trademark of I’m Not Charles, Inc., a subsidiary of Brettocorp, a family company of the Globo Bobo Evil Company.

Globo Bobo Evil Company: Soilant Green’s not people, we’re people. 

thechrisgethardshow:

For Chris: I’ve always really wanted to get into acting and/or comedy but I’m terrified of failing at it. How do you get the courage to perform?

- Anonymous

Here’s a question I answer on a pretty frequent basis. I will happily go off on this topic, as I think I have some unique experiences that allow me to offer some perspective that might help you.

Read More

I got sad and happy reading this.

I realized I’ve been doing this blogging thing all wrong. Starting at this moment, I’m Not Charles will transition into what a real tumblr is supposed to be. Less sporadic, long-winded essays from me, and more posting multimedia shit I think is funny, plus sporadic long-winded essays from me.

You’ve been warned.

I think I have consistency problems. In my stool. My stool has a weird consistency.

Nah, that’s a joke. I  just mean I have problems updating this blog regularly. And the last few posts have been super personal, whiny type shit and that’s not what I’m about. So I decided to lighten the mood of this blog today and have some fun with it. And what’s more fun than ice cream? NOTHING! Answered before you could! So today I am gonna review a few different flavors of ice cream and let you know what I think about them. I’m not saying you can’t disagree. It’s just one guy’s opinion! So enough chit chat, on with the reviews.

1. Chunky Monkey

Off the bat, I feel weird about fruit ice cream. It pretty much doesn’t work for me. Not really because of the taste, more ideologically. Ice cream is supposed to be a treat and if I feel like there’s any possible way I’m getting nutrition from it, the whole thing is ruined.

BUT, Bananas are where I make that exception. Bananas are the candy of fruit in my mind. I just remember growing up, my brothers and me were discouraged from eating a lot of bananas. We could never have more than one in a sitting. I still don’t really know why and maybe I’ll ask my mom and have a follow up to this. If we wanted to have two apples, we definitely could have. So bananas have always held this mystical quality in my life. And I think it’s why I’ve always allowed myself to enjoy banana ice cream. However, that covers the “monkey,” and not the “chunky.” The “chunky” is walnuts, and I wholeheartedly disagree with mixing ice cream and nuts. So Chunky Monkey gets 2 out of 5 scoops (still more than a single serving).

2. Fudge Swirl

I’ve been at odds with this flavor of ice cream for as long as I can remember. I’m not a huge fan of vanilla (don’t worry, we’ll get there), but matched with the chocolate sauce it’s pretty good. Then again, this seems like a real ploy by the ice cream companies to pre-manufacture a hot fudge sundae. Yet they left out the whipped cream. If you’re gonna stuff the fudge in there, you might as well go the whole nine yards. Also, the temperature of the fudge is a real issue. Half the point of a hot fudge sundae is that the chocolate is hot! Because of their willful and lame deceit in an effort to draw money away from the hot fudge industry, Fudge Swirl gets 1 out of 5 scoops (which is a healthy amount if it’s just once in a while).

3. Vanilla

Ugh, could there ever be a more boring, less satisfying “treat.” What is the point of vanilla? It’s like eating plain bread. Vanilla is the building block of so many great flavors, but by itself? By itself, Vanilla is….is…is…VANILLA! Remember that time when you were a kid and you thought those legal folders were called Vanilla Folders? That’s what Vanilla is. A blandly colored piece of thin cardboard meant to hold other more important papers. Vanilla gets ZERO scoops out of five (that’s good for your diet though).

4. Double Fudge Brownie

If ice cream flavors were countries, Double Fudge Brownie would be the Good Ol’ U.S. of A. It screams over-indulgence and over-compensation. There are so many great things that make up a Double Fudge Brownie, but it goes too far. It ceases to have meaning at a certain point and nothing stands out. If you’re gonna add things into an ice cream, they gotta be different things. Chocolate on chocolate on chocolate is fucking insane. And it’s dangerous and I am not gonna stand idly by as we use our bloated military budget to occupy, destroy, and rebuild sovereign nations of the world!

But, still that shit tastes good so 4 out of 5 schools (you’re seriously gonna eat all of that?).

5. Chocolate

Man oh man. The mother of all ice cream flavors. Chocolate is legitimately a reason why sometimes I consider the existence of God. Not that I think chocolate is divine or anything like that, but isn’t it crazy that of all the weird little beans and fruits and whatever that grow on plants in South America, people found this, found out how to infuse it with milk and sugar, and made Chocolate? I guess maybe that’s a better argument for Man’s own natural dominance, which could also be an argument for a God. That’s off-topic, but still. It’s chocolate. There is no other flavor in the world that people have formed addictions to. It’s chocolate. Enough said. 5 out of 5 scoops (lemme back up this truck, lard-ass).

There’s probably a lot of other flavors I could have reviewed. Full disclosure Mint Chocolate Chip is actually my go-to flavor, but I felt like I needed more time to give it a real honest review. Feel free to sound off in the comments about what flavors you like or want to see reviews of. 

God, I’m fat piece of shit. I can’t believe I literally just wrote a blog about ice cream. What is wrong with me?

Hello internet. It’s be a little bit of a while. I’ve been getting a lot of feedback from fans asking to write another blog because the last one ended on kind of a depressing note…Wait scratch that, I’ve gotten no feedback. As you know if you read the last post, I ended a relationship two months ago that has proved to be an important moment in my life. But don’t worry, I’m doing great! I  have a new girlfriend who is awesome. She is from Canada and we met at summer camp so you couldn’t possibly know her or ever get to meet her because she is super busy and only visits on weekends that you are not around. Her name? Oh her name is…uh…Keyboard….Emptybottlesofwhiskey. Yes, her full name is Keyboard Emptybottlesofwhiskey and no I didn’t just say the first two things I saw like Jan in the Brady Bunch.

Thanks for reading and for your concern though. I’m really doing fine. Good, even. Its been two months since you’ve heard from me and I’m sure you have some ideas about where I’ve been and what I’ve been up to for the last two months. Here are some of the top theories:

1. I’m in Mozambique with the Peace Corps

If you run in the same circles I do, the rich and powerful ones, you probably remember that somebody had gotten into the Peace Corps and was moving to Africa for two years. This sounds somewhat like something I would do. I’ve always been a political activist of sorts and most of you know that I work for a non-profit so its seems like a natural fit. Why wouldn’t I go fight the good fight in Sub-Saharan Africa, providing services to people who need it most. However, as much as it sounds like something I would do, that’s not me. You’re thinking of my friend Lauren who is currently in Africa teaching kids something. I have not left the country nor do I work for the Peace Corps.

2. I did Bath Salts and am now a Zombie.

Pretty good guess. You’ve no doubt been keeping up with current events, so you know all about how ingesting bath salts turns you into a crazy pseudo-monster who can eat peoples faces. I’m pretty flattered and offended that you thought it was me, that I am experimental enough to try bath salts as a mind-altering substance and crazy enough to eat human flesh. You are also wrong, though. I don’t really do many drugs. To be honest, I don’t even really know what bath salts actually are. I do like salty food so extra points if you guessed this scenario based on that knowledge of my eating habits.

3. I am doing a lot of meditative soul searching.

You’re worried about me and really hoping that I have taken this big transitional period of my life and utilized it to really dig deep and find out some answers about who I really am. I like this scenario theoretically. It makes me seem cultured and insightful. Maybe I saw a psychic as a joke, but the things she said really struck a chord with me. Something about how large changes in life happen in order to move us into new territories. In this option I probably also got really into George Harrison because of his spiritual connection to music. Maybe I even started keeping a journal just to organize my thoughts. Most likely, I contacted past girlfriends to get their perspective on where I’ve gone wrong in relationships like in High Fidelity. I probably have a plan to do one thing everyday to make myself a better person. This is not what I’ve been doing with my life, unfortunately. It’s probably what I should have been doing, but then people would roll their eyes at me like I think I’m the first dude who ever got dumped.

(Not me)

4. I’m on a seriously self-destructive bender.

Stinking of whiskey and cigarettes, unshaven and unbathed, I’m kind of a depressing sight in this one. I took the break-up pretty hard, especially when I realized that part of being broken up means she’s gonna start kissing other boys. On their dicks. I’ve probably gotten smacked by a few women in the past two months for my out-of-character sexual passes. I probably have contacted past girlfriends and propositioned them, unsuccessfully. It was fun to go out with me at first because after a few drinks I was loud and funny and willing to do anything. But by the time it was last call, I was sitting in a corner drinking alone, probably crying a little bit. You put me in a cab and hoped I got home safe. Thankfully, I’ve held it together pretty well and this is not the correct answer to where I’ve been. Don’t worry, Mom. Also Mom, please don’t read this and if you do, I’m not being serious about anything. It’s just a joke.

5. I’m working my day job, playing video games, finally watching The Wire, doing improv and trying to get back to living my life.

This is definitely the most boring of all the scenarios. Nothing about my life has changed dramatically, except that I have more time spent alone. I try not to think about what happened, and when I do, I try to do things that make me happy to avoid my feelings. And then I write a blog about it. I got into The Wire, which is awesome. I almost beat Skyrim, but that last dragon is fucking hard so I gave up. I still have the same job and am doing ok. I’m taking improv classes and trying to perform as regularly as possible to empty basements in bars. I’ve had some conversations about what comes next with my closest friends and I feel pretty confident that I’m gonna be great, that its kind of insane to think that most things that happen to you at 23 are going to be as important in 10 years. If you guessed this scenario, you are correct! Congratulations. If you’re an attractive woman, email me. If you’re an attractive man, you can also email me I guess. If you’re unattractive…what the hell, email me. I like people! My email is bigbuttl0ver6969@internet.biz

Look, I’m going to try not to get too emotional with this short essay (that’s what these are right? I’m getting graded? No? Then why am I writing this), but if I’m being totally honest with you people, I was once half of a couple. Until very recently I was in a pretty serious relationship. The idea for the topic of annoying couples came from a hilarious conversation I had with my partner in which we both admitted to being totally oblivious about how annoyingly in love we are until we see other couples being annoyingly in love. And then I got dumped. Literally less than a month later, I was broken up with. So now I’m all filled with piss and vinegar and whiskey. Side note: next time you’re in the liquor store, definitely shell out the extra $3 for Jim Beam, because “Early Times Kentucky Whiskey” does not go down smoothly.

Looking back on that last paragraph, I really want to delete it. But since my original, happier narrative for this piece was ruined by someone ripping my fucking heart out of my chest (that was a joke, seriously) I have to go down this much meaner, bitter road.

Whether you are single, married, divorced, heartbroken (help), or beginning a beautiful new relationship that will one day end in tears and acoustic guitar lessons, couples are fucking annoying. Here’s why:

5. They are always wearing pajamas

I’m going to assume for arguments sake that anyone reading this is roughly the same age as me, somewhere in their 20s. Most of you probably don’t live with your partners because it is a really huge step in a relationship. However, you want to spend time with the person you love. Here’s the thing: it is awkward when I walk into an apartment fully clothed in jeans and a plaid shirt when you two are sitting there in some combination of sweatpants, gym shorts, and the other person’s T-shirt. And you’re sprawled all over the couch watching ABC Family so there isn’t anywhere for me to sit. Guys, it’s one one o’clock, can you please put some jeans on and can we go get lunch or something? And why the hell are you watching The Flinstones movie!?

4. They always have other plans

Want to go get a drink tonight? Oh you can’t because you two promised to watch last weeks episode of Community together. Well what about this weekend? You’re going to his parents house. Saturday too? Oh you got tickets to a show. Well cool, I’ll see you around then.Even when we make plans, it has to be with both of you because this is her only night off. The only time you ever want me to do something is when you’re trying to get everyone to go see his shitty band play in a bar somewhere.

3. They don’t know how to use the sidewalk

This is pretty much a pet peeve for every person in a major city with pedestrian traffic: nobody knows how to walk. Some people walk to slow, some too fast, some cut you off, some are holding big goofy maps. But couples are absolutely the worst. You cannot take more than a step away from one another without being in some kind of contact. Either your arms around her shoulder, his arm is around your waist, or you two are holding hands. You are always strolling, which makes me wonder if couples ever have anywhere to go or are just waiting till the next re-run of Willy Wonka comes on ABC Family. Guys, that subway is about to pull out of the station, can you please dislodge yourselves from one another so people can walk by. Oh no, you two should definitely stand immediately in front of the entrance to this restaurant while you decide if you feel like Italian. I don’t mind it when you drag him down the block into Macy’s to buy him new jeans. Get out of the way! I have super important things to do like go to an improv class or get a bacon egg and cheese.

2. They are arguing about something

Remember when you were a kid and your parents would have a fight? So you’d go lock yourself in your room under the covers wondering if they were going to get divorced? This is worse. At least back then it was about the mortgage or something. Any real argument that happens between couples, happens behind closed doors so we don’t have to worry about it. These arguments are about what time the you went to bed last night or if you really need to call your mom right now. So we all get to hear are those stupid 30 second back-and-forths that always begin with a sarcastic “Well I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…” and end half a minute later with your head in his or her neck.

1. They have inside jokes that I don’t get

All friends do this, but for some reason when couples do it, it is heightened to such an insane degree. We get that when you two saw 21 Jump Street there was a lady eating baby carrots a row in front of you, but you don’t have to say “Pass the carrots please” in an English accent every time you’re in a movie theater. Your jokes make absolutely no sense and when you explain them they just aren’t funny. Friday Night Lights is a great show, but your Coach and Tammy Taylor bit sucks. Your references to everything are so specific that if I wasn’t in bed with you two when the neighbor started screaming at her cats, I don’t get what you are talking about.

I’m really happy for you though. Sorry if I’m being an asshole. To be fair, some of these examples are actual things I’ve done.

Hello again. Thanks for your continued readership. I’m sure at this point you either know me or you at least know that I am not Charles. If you know me you are no doubt wondering, why is Brett making this so goddamn confusing? If you don’t know me you’re probably wondering, who the hell is Charles then?

To my friends: I honestly don’t know. I needed a username for twitter and the last time I had a username it was my AIM screen name “DrumsMumsNBums.” So I was looking to go in a different, funnier, direction. I wanted anonymity to a degree, but the ability to be easily found. I’m sorry that I achieved neither of those. In fact, I have revealed myself to the entire internet and have an almost non-existent following. So yea….

To people I’m not friends with: Charles is all of us. Charles is none of us. Charles represents the greatest in man, something we can never obtain. Charles is something I’ve never claimed to be, although it was bestowed upon me in the form of a middle name. Charles is all that we as a species could ever want to be. Here are some examples:

4. Charles In Charge

When I was growing up, I vaguely remember family members calling me “Charles in Charge” as a joke. It was a mediocre sitcom about a male nanny that was mildly popular in the 80’s.

“But Brett,” you interrupt, “why is this even here, if it was only somewhat successful?”

Because of Scott Baio, obviously. Scott Baio plays Charles, in “Charles in Charge.” He also played Chachi in “Joanie Loves Chachi,” which was a spin-off of “Happy Days.” Happy Days was a great sitcom which featured Ron Howard, who is a great director. Don’t believe me? Go watch “A Beautiful Mind”.

Yea ok, so that one was kind of a stretch.

3. Charles Chaplin

Quick think of something funny! There’s a 99% chance the thing you just thought of either was a bit Charles (Charlie) Chaplin did, or someone did it to copy/ripoff/pay homage to Charles Chaplin.

Remember that scene in “Gold Rush” where Charles makes bread dance? That was awesome.

“But Brett,” you annoyingly interrupt again, “I have two really annoying comments to make.”

Ok, go ahead.

“Well first of all, his name is ‘Charlie’ not ‘Charles,’ and second he is known for playing a loser!”

Finished? Ok good. Well his real name is Charles, its on his birth certificate. If you don’t believe me go look for it in Hawaii (that’s where they keep important birth certificates right?) Charlie is just a nickname, do you really not understand that? Do I have to explain how nicknames work?

Also, the Tramp is far from being a loser. In fact, he is the ultimate hero. He goes up against tyrants, bullies, millionaires, country bumpkins, bosses, politicians, snobby intellectuals, basically anybody that people don’t like, the Tramp pulls down their pants or makes them eat a shoelace or something. Sure his pants probably fall down in the process or he also eats that shoelace, but he ends up with the girl or some kind of moral, or sometimes just the same as he started. But he never loses. 

2. Charles Darwin

Boy evolution is something, huh? I mean to think we came from a little drip of pond scum and now writing funny quips about being descendants of little drips of pond scum that nobody will ever read. But evolution wouldn’t be possible without one man: Charles Darwin. Just kidding. Charles didn’t invent evolution, God did. Well…let’s not get into that. What Charles did do is write a book that put forth a theory of how we got to be here. And it’s a book that we still draw on for most of our ideas about how the world works to this day. Kind of like the Bible. But better. It’s like he wrote the Science Bible.  

1. Charles the Great

Who’s Charles the Great? Oh you know, just the guy who’s responsible for Europe. You probably know him as his dumb French name: Charlemagne. In German he’s called Karl Der Grosse, which sounds pretty badass. This dude basically created white people. Before him, Rome was dead, and the Dark Ages were fucking dark. Thanks to him, there is a section in Art History books about “Medieval Art” and not just skull-bashing and dragon-lore. He essentially took all the cool things about being a mead-drinking, gruel-eating barbarian and mixed it with all the cool things about being a bath-housing, robe-wearing Roman and made Western Culture. Great is his last name. He’s Charles. I’m not.

There’s plenty more great Charles’s out there (Dickins, Lindburg, Manson, and the Chocolate Factory), but I think these four make a pretty strong case that we should all try to be a little more Charles, and a little less whatever shitty name our parents gave us.