Northwestern Archaeology Department Discovers Long-Forgotten Sidewalk

12:25 p.m. CST, February 18, 2014

Where does the sidewalk end?!

EVANSTON, IL—Northwestern University’s Archaeology department began a new excavation today on campus, unearthing a sidewalk that was previously believed to have been long lost.

Rumors of a sidewalk running from Kresge to Norris had been circulating, but until today, it was thought to be only a myth, much like the Frostbite Express.  Sources involved in the excavation claimed that the discovery was largely in part due to 

The Types of Men You Encounter While Abroad

Aren’t we all sick of the typical “Study Abroad Blog”? I mean, it’s #amazing and #lifechanging that you saw the “Le Tour Eiffel” and drank wine in Sicily and went to that weird building in Barcelona. You got a picture with a camel and underprivileged children? That’s really amazing!

I’ve never seen anything quite like it! For the past 6 minutes, that is.

So, just a warning, if you are abroad, I speak for most everyone–no one reads your blog aside from your extended family. If you’re lucky, maybe your mother leaves it open for your cat to take naps next to. But that’s it.

A cat nap: Sleeping on someone else’s electronics and/or fresh laundry. Like an asshole.

Let’s be real, the only blog people would really want to read would be about sexcapades. We don’t want to hear about how you went to a coffee shop in Amsterdam; we want to hear about how you made your cash in the red light district to pay for said coffee shop.

While you’re abroad, as long as you act the 100% opposite of a Northwestern student (aka never step foot in the library and make eye contact with, well, anyone,) then you’re guaranteed to meet some incredible people who will change your outlook on life (#clicheforareason). That being said, these people will likely fall into certain categories, and this is taking a moment to dwell on all of the wonderful men in your life, the ones who won’t quite make the blog.

God is Dead, and so is Nietzsche. Kind of.

If you’ve been to the Google homepage today, you’ve seen the bizarre cubist homage to late philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche–better recognized as the guy who killed God and made that kid in Little Miss Sunshine take a vow of silence. Today would be his 169th birthday had he not gone crazy and died of

The Official College Gameday Drinking Game

It’s official, Wildkittens — Gameday is coming to Evanston to nationally air the Northwestern Wildcats beating the An Ohio State University Buckeyes. It’s our job as students to prove that we do, in fact, have people rooting for us to win this game who aren’t just Michigan fans. We MUST have a decent fanbase in purple, not just in “beat fucking An Ohio State” shirts.

This.

This game is finally our chance to prove to the football-watching nation that our school is not, in fact, in Boston. This is our chance to finally differentiate our school from Kim and Kanye’s offspring. No, we are not a Hitchcock movie either. This is our day to get drunk and pretend like we have school spirit year-round. Grab your purple face-paint, cat-ears headbands, fla-bongos of Skol, and get ready for the biggest shitshow of the season. Let’s show the nation what NerdWasted is all about! There will be some saddddd cheerleaders and band members if the fan section isn’t getting rowdy and growling.

Cheerleaders are sad because they don’t get to pregame by doing the alcohol.

So, my fellow HeinousCats, here are the official rules of how to get shitfaced for ESPN’s Gameday in Evanston:

Wake Up.
Turn Up.
Go fucking ‘Cats.

You’re fucking adults, you don’t need a “game” to force you to get hammered FOR GAMEDAY. C’mon. Put that 35 composite ACT score to use with some common-drinking-sense that ESPN needs to see some hot biddies downing shots on the lakefill.

3 Tips to cope with that Summertime Sadness

Summer is winding down now, and we are all ready to be back at school. For those of us who are just as weird as Lana del Rey and nowhere near as pretty, summertime sadness is some real shit. Everyone seems to fall into a summer category: working a kickass internship at some awesome company; partying like old times with your high school biddies; “studying” abroad or just being a generally wealthy person who gets to “summer” in Athens for funsies; or finally, being forced to remember why you hated your hometown in the first place.

I, unfortunately, fall into the last category. Subheading: bored housewife training.

Sherman Ave Freshman Guide: Learning How to be Passive Aggressive

Welcum class of 2017! Now that you’ve been accepted, bombarded with FAFSA, and “studied” for AP tests (or wait, are you fucks done with school already?) it’s time to get hella pumped for college. You’re a future Wildcat, which means you are involved in every extracurricular under the sun, except for the good ones. Like sleeping. And smoking. And screwing. And (as we on the Ave know is most important) getting iced.

All of us current students know that the class of 2017 is a bunch of little turds because you made tuition go up once again, so you really need to step up your game and fit in right away.

This installment of the Freshman Guide is all about the linguistic complexity of language in the Midwest, and particularly the phenomenon of passive-aggressive comments. Learning how to be passive-aggressive seems to be unique to the Midwest since the East Coast is straight aggressive, and anyone west of Colorado is too high to care.

Phobias That Will Wreck Your Shit

Eleanor Kinkervoss has recently asked me to be the guardian of her future children. But here’s the problem… I had a fucked-up childhood and thus have NO idea how to handle little humans. I didn’t have a terribly fucked-up childhood. I didn’t have the kind that leads people to become either serial killers or the greatest artists the world has seen. Rather, I had a middle of the road fucked-upness that squelched my capacity for greatness with a sliver of love and support. This seems to be a common theme at NU: instead of fame and brilliance that comes from a troubled past, we’re left with anxiety disorder and an ACT score over 30. This shit is not endearing nor special.

The Greatest Toys of the 90s

Now it’s Furby’s turn to play with you.

It’s that special time of the year–when people are running around frantically chasing the best deals and sob over their sleep-deprived, caffeine-fueled bender that maxed-out their credit cards on Cyber Monday. Which presumes, of course, that they weren’t trampled on Black Friday, and instead only stomped others to death. You might have proverbial blood on your hands, but at least you got a Nook, amirite!?

Sherman Ave’s Dating Profile

A good profile picture should stick in peoples minds.

Haaaiii guyzz, I’m new here. And bitterly disappointed. Was anyone else under the impression that Sherman Ave was a dating site? Kept exclusively for Northwestern’s most heinous sexual predators and most socially awkward? I thought they were just really into necrophilia, seeing as they spend an awful lot of time talking about hooking up with dead historical figures.