Archive by Author

Winter Quarter at Northwestern is Amazing and I Don’t Care Who Knows It

5 Jan


Listen up, Wildcats. Betches love to complain about winter in Evanston. It’s soooo cold. Rush is soooo boring. I don’t have a date for Valentine’s Day. Nobody will ever love me. I’m going to die alone surrounded by my cats and McKinsey and Company employee of the month awards. The passage near Kellogg is like totally a wind tunnel. I should have gone to Madison, it’s totally not this cold up there. My Wings Over order is taking sooooo long to get here. Where is my Honey BBQ? Where is the Frosbite Express??!??!?

I’m gonna stop you right there. Winter quarter is amazing, you just don’t know it yet. Here’s a rundown of all the reasons why January through March are a wonderful time to be a Wildcat:

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Sherman Ave Freshman Guide: Date Night

11 Sep

datenight1This is for those of you who will be brave enough to hurdle the biggest barrier to getting a date at Northwestern: actually just fucking asking someone out already. The journey from being the person who judges the couple holding hands while waiting in line for sushi to being the person who has a boyfriend or girlfriend to help you make fun of the couple holding hands while waiting in line for sushi can be long, strenuous, and very occasionally sexually satisfactory. The following guide will help immerse yourself in Northwestern’s insulated stultifying vibrant dating scene. Or at least help snag you a warm body to fasten yourself to during winter quarter.

The First Date

Kafein: Good place for hipsters to grab a caramel turtle mocha and split a warmed up cookie. If conversation lulls, you can always heckle the townies doing stand up on Monday nights.

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From Wildkittens to Wildcougars: A GIF Journey from Freshman to Senior Year at Northwestern

2 Sep

Dear Class of 2017,

Three short years ago the class of 2014 shuffled at the pace of a dehydrated desert tortoise because everyone’s parents felt the need to take photos every five steps marched through the arch and commenced the drunk, sweaty adventure that was Wildcat Welcome 2010. In a few weeks, we’re really looking forward to sitting on our front porches, drinking beer that isn’t Busch Light, and watching you wander aimlessly as you try to find that awesome party near the corner of Maple and Simpson.

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9 Milestones You Hit in the 9 Years The Office has been on TV

16 May
Said everyone when The Office stopped running.

Said everyone when The Office stopped running.

For those of us who are soon-to-be rising seniors, The Office has been a fixture in our lives since we were greasy haired seventh graders trying to cope with the idea that there could be letters in a math problem (seriously, WTF still?). Although the last few seasons have been lackluster, we have to admit that we used to drop everything on Thursday night to invite Michael, Pam, Jim, and Dwight into our homes and our hearts. So in celebration of tonight’s series finale, let’s take a look at some of the adolescent milestones we experienced over the course of The Office‘s nine-year tenure.

2005: Received some wisdom from your middle school health teacher.

2006: Went to your first school dance. You were too scared to grind to Ms. New Booty, but you managed to blend in somehow.

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The Evolution of the Group Project

29 Jan

Group projects before college > group projects at college. Here’s why:

You used to be somebody.

You used to be somebody.

Elementary School:

Your 4th grade teacher just assigned you to make a poster about the rainforest. In a group. Could life get any better than this?! THIS IS GONNA BE THE BEST PROJECT EVER WE HAVE TO GO BUY RUBBER CEMENT AND GLITTER RIGHT NOW!!!!!! You obviously all gathered at the swankiest group member’s house (AKA the one who had the World Wide Web) with the coolest mom who provided the best snacks. Bagel Bites and Dunkaroos were on the menu and Destiny’s Child blasted on the stereo. You laughed, ran with scissors, threw glitter at each other, and spilled Capri Sun on the carpet. Then you got down to business and used the house’s top-of-the-line laser printer to decorate your kickass poster with colorful birds, lush green forests, and crazy looking anteaters. You came away from the day with a ton of new inside jokes like “Team Brainforest!” and “be the Amazon!” that you would shout at each other in the hallways for the next six months…or six years. AND THE YOU MADE A PACT TO BE BEST FRIENDS FOREVER AND IT WAS THE GREATEST AND YOU GOT A THOUSAND GOLD STARS!!!

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Sherman Ave Freshman Guide: How To Not End Up in the Back of Some Guy’s Van

24 Aug

"So... want to go back to my place tonight?"

One of the most difficult dilemmas of Welcome Week for new Wildkittens is ascertaining whether the cutie who just started chatting them up is just a freshie looking for a friend or a sketchy character, commonly referred to as a “creeper,” who’s looking for a slampiece. By the time these sleazeballs gather the composure to approach, you will probably have downed at least 3 cups of jungle juice, played slap the bag, and polished off a few half empty beers from some random table. So here’s a few thoughts to keep in mind when trying to ward off Sketchensteins.

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Wiz Khalifa’s “Roll Up:” A Literary Analysis

5 Jul

The muse quitely ponders his convoluted relationship

Some of today’s top hits make me want to do heinous things to adorable animals. We really can get enough of the Black Eyed Peas rhyming “Flow-joe” and “X-O” in “Just Can’t Get Enough,” and I’m still out hunting for the miscreant who let Selena Gomez out of the Disney dungeon in order to record “Who Says.” However, when I tune into the radio I can’t help but turn up the volume to a bass-pounding level immediately upon hearing the first deliciously melodious notes to certain songs. One of these titans of tuneage amongst sing-a-long powerhouses like “Rolling in the Deep” and “Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.)” is Wiz Khalifa’s “Roll Up.”

Cameron Jibril Thomaz a.k.a. Wiz’s voice is endearing and soulful as he tells the story of presumably male subject who is trying to explain to a female that he is dependable. Though the song is the musical equivalent to a priceless Vermeer, one major question remains in regard to the plot of its lyrical composition. Is the main character involved in a sexual relationship with his “shawty,” or is their affinity merely a platonic bond with the potential for penetration?

These are the burning questions that keep America awake at night.

From the onset of the song, Wiz Khalifa explicitly states that the female lead is in a relationship, as it is her anniversary, but “her man ain’t actin’ right.” This woman then boards an airplane to visit the narrator and the befuddlement begins. He claims, “When you at home that’s your man, soon as you land you say that’s all me,” suggesting that the narrator has the same (sexual) relationship with this woman when she visits as she does with her boyfriend at home. Yet this connection is never made clear.

In spite of this apparent conclusion, a question about the narrator’s intentions remains. The chorus does not paint the narrator as a villain who is attempting to steal his “homie” from her man, but rather a dependable guy who will “roll up” whenever this woman needs him. The narrator repeats, ” Whenever you need me, whenever want me, you know you can call me, I’ll be there shortly.” In the chorus, he makes quite clear that their friendship is the most important part of the relationship, even referring to himself as her “best friend.” Even if there is no chance of road head or Skype sex, this guy will be there for this stupid betch. If their relationship is already sexual, what does he have to gain by indulging her every whim? Why does he still promise that he will “roll up”? From the chorus it seems as though he has not yet consummated the relationship and their correspondence appears platonic, although he clearly yearn for her.

Both Khalifa's devotion and true genius are on full display throughout the song

Furthermore, the narrator utilizes buzzwords reminiscent of the sordid sexual escapades of two star-crossed lovers. When integrated into the story of the song, they initially appear ordinary, but when analyzed alone, the verses sound more conspicuous than sores on herpes-infected genitals. Words like “fucking” and “ride” refer directly to the act of intercourse, while a reference to “handcuffing” subliminally prompts listeners to think of their own steamy fantasies of light bondage. More subtly, in one line the narrator claims that this woman is “cooking eggs in the morning.” This statement could refer to the fact that she is hungry in the morning because she is ravenous after a night of passionate love making, or possibly the efforts of the narrator’s sperm to fertilize or “cook” her eggs. Based on these findings, I have come to the conclusion that these two people have engaged in sexual relations. Although this in never made explicit, the manner in which Mr. Khalifa portrays their relationship connotes a bond that could only have been formed by nights spent groping her incredibly hot and voluptuous body while Marvin Gaye’s voice drowns out screams of pleasure.

Now that’s fresh.

Point/Counterpoint: Peanut Butter Patties vs. Tagalongs

16 Feb

POINT: Peanut Butter Patties are the real motherfucking deal

The only thing more delicious than a Peanut Butter Patty is two Peanut Butter Patties, served by Natalie Portman

So there’s this astoundingly delicious and delectable dessert that I freaking love. It is affectionately known as the “Peanut Butter Patty” among its admirers, and the scrumptious power of this cookie cannot be underestimated. Astute Americans from New York to California salivate worse than an adolescent female at the opening of Never Say Never 3D merely at the thought of wrapping one’s lips around a Peanut Butter Patty and sinking into its ludicrously luscious interior. The interplay between chocolate, peanut butter, and cookie is titillating to say the least, and exquisitely heavenly at best. Needless to say, Peanut Butter Patties are pretty gosh-darn fucking amazing.

Yet there are still a few ignorant Americans who deny the orgasmically divine existence of Peanut Butter Patties. I’m speaking, of course, of my ignorant, dimwitted, and deliciousness-denying colleagues on the far-left who insist, against all reason or logic, that we should instead direct all of our yummy praise at “Tagalongs.” Can you believe that shit!? These Tagalong dirtbags are robbing America of its culinary identity, reducing the simple elegance of the Peanut Butter Patty to a name better reserved for that kid you met once during Wildcat Welcome week, yet who still insists on texting you every weekend to find out about parties. Without the Peanut Butter Patty, what have we become as a nation? Lose this symbol of American piquant pleasure, and risk losing all that we’ve accomplished as a nation of trans-fats consumers? Nice try you Neo-Nazi Communist Anarchist Soccer-playing Tagalongites, but I love this glorious nation far too much to sit idly by while you destroy one of the greatest examples of our national pride.

by Evander Jones

COUNTERPOINT: Tagalongs: The Life-Blood of our American Existence

What's more American than Dairy Queen? Nothing, except Tagalongs.

I want you to envision something wonderful for me. Picture a cookie. This isn’t just any cookie: it’s a mound of creamy peanut butter encapsulated in a shell of smooth, tantalizing chocolate. Now picture yourself gently slipping this 12 gram stone of delight from the plastic package that has served as a gentle and loving home. You caress its smooth edges with your shaking fingertips and hold it in your hand as the light but arousing scent of chocolate and peanut butter wafts towards your welcoming nostrils. You place the cookie in your salivating mouth and take a bite. You swirl your excited tongue as bits of chocolate and peanut butter meld forming the perfect symphony of sweet and salty. The pleasure is so intense that you let out a soft moan. Finally, you swallow the last bite of this titillating treat and sit back in satisfaction.

Ladies and gentlemen, you have just eaten a Tagalong.

Now, there are some small-minded people out there who will tell you that the proper name for this moan-inducing dessert that we have come to love is “Peanut Butter Patty.” I can assure, you that this is fascist propaganda. In 1921, the young Benito Mussolini brainwashed Troop 246 of the Girl Scouts of the USA into telling their fellow Americans that the cookies were known as “Peanut Butter Patties.” (Fun fact: Mussolini played the violin.) Il Duce did this in an attempt to divide Americans to the extent that civil war would distract the nation from beating the shit out of him in World War II. So let us end the right wing madness that begot this nation’s confusion over the name of a Girl Scout cookie. This debate has consumed America more than abortion and Arcade Fire’s GRAMMY win combined. They are called Tagalongs. Now. Forever. Now, in the name of Juliette Gordon Lowe, can we all just get back to our lives?

by Blaise Bernard

We Haz Teh LOLCats!

2 Feb

God knows we all love some high quality LOLcats. And now u can haz LOLCats too wit Blaise Bernard’s Northwestern-themed memes!

by Blaise Bernard

Morty Cat

by Blaise Bernard

Football Cat

by Blaise Bernard

Arch Cat

by Blaise Bernard

Rush Cat

by Blaise Bernard

Rock Cat

by Blaise Bernard

Library Cat

by Blaise Bernard

Burger King Cat

-Blaise Bernard