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Tag Archives: Allison

An Interpretation of a Northwestern Tour

3 Mar
(via Northwestern)

Remember green things?  (via Northwestern)

SCENE: Northwestern University’s Campus. An unexpected blizzard is beginning to pick up force. Temperatures hover in the single digits. A Northwestern tour group leaves the tour guide building and heads north to take in the sights.

Tour Guide: The weather usually isn’t like this, I promise!

Interpretation: Yeah, usually it’s a lot worse. Notice how you’re able to expose parts of your flesh to the air? It’s almost NEVER nice enough to do that! You guys lucked out!

Tour Guide: We’ll have to go down this path right here, since university construction crews are working on improving and beautifying our campus on all the other paths, and they’re currently closed. But soon Northwestern will be even better! Exciting things in the works!

Interpretation: Continue reading

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

5 Jan
(via northwestern.edu)

(via northwestern.edu)

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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The Pursuit of a Nook: One Freshman’s Attempt to Study in the Library

23 Oct

I did not leave Allison yesterday. I suppose this happens to the best of us. Saturday night’s debauchery and barefooted BK run left me with a slight headache and a load of academic responsibility for Sunday. Most of the time was spent in my room reading Shakespeare, and researching the Kanye West v. Jimmy Kimmel feud (#NODISRESPECTTOBENAFFLECK).

I was essentially a troll, with my dark room representing the underside of a bridge. I didn’t even take advantage of free food in downtown Evanston because I didn’t want to put socks on.

Everyone knows Brutalist architecture inspires learning

Everyone knows Brutalist architecture inspires learning.

Today is a new day. I am wearing real person clothes, I am financially obligated to go to other buildings for classes, and I decided to explore the library in the hopes of getting some shit done. The shit being, but not limited to 1) finding a study area I can call my own 2) beginning a journalism paper and 3) wasting time before dinner and the inescapable gravity of the Allison dining hall.

Luckily, one of those would be accomplished as long as I didn’t choke on my own insignificance and die. And so I walked into the library with a friend, and the following journey began:

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Sherman Ave Interviews: Renee Engeln-Maddox (Part 2 of 2)

30 Sep

Earlier this summer, Sherman Ave editors Ross Packingham and Sir Edward Twattingworth III interviewed Psychology professor and Allison Hall live-in Renee Engeln-Maddox at Sherman Ave Headquarters.  If any cultural references seem slightly out of date, it’s because that’s what happens when we decide to wait to publish interviews for three months due to reasons.

Read Part 1 here.

The professor who will forever be remembered as "the one who couldn't remember twerk or flabongo."

The professor who will forever be remembered as “the one who couldn’t remember twerk or flabongo.”

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Packingham: When someone asks you what courses you teach, do you ever just go, “Intro to SIIIIIIKE!” and punch them in the genitals?

[silence]

Renee: If I’d thought of it…

Twattingworth: Follow-up, will you start doing that now?

Renee: Do I have to punch them? Cause that could hurt my back. What about like a kick? Or a knee? And I’d have to do the “SIIIIIIKE!” better than that. You need to get the “IIIIIIIII” a little higher.

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Sherman Ave Freshman Guide: Living In Allison Hall

5 Sep

Oh, you just found out you were assigned to Allison Hall for your freshman year? Wellll then, CONGRATULATIONS YOU JUST WON. EVERYTHING.

For starters, this place is a hotel. Seriously. Some witty, clever students have even taken to calling it… Continue reading

Sherman Ave Interviews: Morty Schapiro

6 Jun

The Sherman Ave Editors (Evander Jones, Ross Packingham and Sir Edward Twattingworth III) sat down with Northwestern University President Morty Schapiro for an interview.  Why he agreed to let us do this, we may never know, but we sure are happy he did.

"I'm allergic to cats."

“I’m allergic to cats.”

Packingham: If you could make a drink called “The Morty,” what would it entail?

Morty: Oh man. Like an alcoholic drink?

Twattingworth: Wow, interesting that your mind went there.

Morty: Yeah… Well, you know when I drink, like last night–this is really exciting–but one-third orange juice, two-thirds Perrier.

Packingham: Perrier? Is that vodka? Or rum?

Morty: And they have to give me this much wine so I can hold it to pretend I’ll drink it, but I’m not a wine drinker. I like beer when I have Asian food. I like Thai beer, or Japanese beer or something.

Packingham: Like a Budweiser?

Morty: I don’t think I’ve ever had one of those. So I’m not big on like American Continue reading

Sherman Ave Freshman Guide: Res College Power Rankings

27 Jul

Well camouflaged into the surrounding sorority habitat.

Residential Colleges at Northwestern are designed to enrich the intellectual, cultural, and social lives of their students by extending the learning environment from the classroom to extracurricular life. Essentially, a res college is a dorm filled with like-minded nerds and future friends you’ll spend the next couple of years drinking, arguing, and (for the truly venturous souls) hooking upwith.

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Musings on Satan’s Toilet, A.K.A. the Blomquist Recreational Center

28 Apr

“Life is like a box of chocolates – You never know what you’re gonna get”.
– Forrest Gump

“If exercise is also like a box of chocolates, which in fact it is not, then Blomquist is like that box after it has been picked over by an obsessive chocolate connoisseur, leaving only the ones with the inedible citrus middles.”
–      Gwyneth Effingmouth

You may be thinking, “Thanks for a weird, fucked up metaphor, Gwyneth!” Allow me to explain myself.

A layer of hell reserved for all those who took beer from men without paying for it.

Blomquist Recreational Center, or “Blom” for short, is also referred to as Northwestern’s Estrogym. In theory, Blomquist should fit my profile quite well. It’s the closest gym to the sorority quads and full of cardio equipment, and I am in fact a sorositute interested in the benefits of a good cardio sesh. Furthermore, I live in PARC, or “the armpit of Allison,” a res college located in the Deep South of campus. Yet despite the seemingly perfect match between Blom and I, the facility makes me want to puke my guts out – and not just because of vicarious bulimia induced by my sorori-roundings.

Here’s why: Blomquist basically takes exercise, a healthy and possibly enjoyable lifestyle choice, and sucks all of that good shit away with the force of a mega-vacuum, turning the otherwise-innocuous South Campus “gymnasium” into a sweaty, poorly-lit lower layer of Hell. Hence, I only go there when a) I hate myself, or b) I’d get mugged running outside because it’s late in the PM. Without further ado, let me present a well-researched and highly informed argument for why Blomquist is about as unappetizing as that last fermented Russell Stover bonbon in the box:

The Vending Machine
Out of the five times I’ve tried to buy a Powerade, the vending machine has “vended” it to me exactly once. (It was indeed delicious, one thing that even Blom can’t fuck up, but you can get that shit at the C-store.) And it’s intermittent, which means that the problem has been solved and then respawned. My personal hypothesis is that the vending machine is suicidal and on life support, because who wouldn’t want to off themselves after a lifetime dominated by Blom?

The Lighting
According to an inside informant, the lighting at Blomquist is specifically engineered to induce migraines, seizures, and self-loathing. I’m pretty sure I’ve never felt uglier than the few times I’ve seen myself in the gym’s mirrors, including that awkward phase in 6th grade when calling me “androgynous” would have been a compliment.

The Bathrooms
I’m sorry (not sorry) but they are SO WEIRDLY DESIGNED. WHAT THE FUCK. There are like five doors you have to open before getting to the main event, and they are all grey and heavy and cold, like dead elephants impeding everyone’s basic excretory needs.

However, my main beef with Blomquist is not with the facilities themselves. I’m a rich-ass college kid with an infinite supply of Cap’n Crunch and free Busch Light everywhere I turn. Some kids have to work for the money to buy that shit, and they sure as hell don’t get free gym memberships. No, what really pisses me off is the content that Blomquist’s managers choose to display on:

5% gradation? Seriously bitch?

The Televisions
The Blomquist televisions, placed directly in front of the cardio equipment like barrels under the chins of St. Bernards, invariably display either really shitty soap operas, reality TV, or the Food Network. The former two offerings are understandable as a means of positive motivation. Television series, even vaguely nineties-esque lower-budget ones (and especially MTV-funded shitshows), tend to hire more attractive people than your average university student or BK security guard. When I see attractive people, I’m motivated to look like them, boosting my potential workout. Those shows usually have a couple of major uggo foil characters as well, which is also physically beneficial – when I see fat or unattractive people I cackle to myself, tightening my abs and boosting endorphins.

However. WHAT THE FLYING FUCK is the Food Network doing on a television in front of a bunch of people trying desperately to burn as many calories in as little time as possible? Why are the television operators trying to induce such masochism into the sweating college kids that spend so much of their precious time in this “gym”? It makes one wonder why, despite the fact that elliptical machines and treadmills are practically modern-age torture devices and studies have shown that fancy desserts may or may not equal .2 orgasms on the pleasure scale, we choose the former for ourselves. I’m reminded of that timeless moment from Dodgeball, when White Goodman preemptively punishes his desire for the doughnut in front of him with electric shocks:

“You want it, don’t you, fat boy?
You want that doughnut.
Go ahead and have a bite.
One little bite won’t hurt you.
[ELECTRIC SHOCK]
Momma.”

In sum, I hate Blomquist and you should too. Don’t settle for Khloe “Kim on anabolic steroids” Kardashian, or Ace of Cakes-induced sadomasochism. Run to the Baha’i temple instead and have yourself a religious catharsis. Then maybe you won’t have to spend your free time reading god-forsaken rants about São Tomé and Príncipe.

Your Latest Dwombos (Daily Word Combinations)

16 Feb

New lexical creations to describe current events and occurrences at Northwestern? Why, of course!

Hot Cookie Bar beats writing that thesis on the Roberts Court any day of the week.

Procrastin-eating
If you’ve ever sat down to finish a problem set, and instead played Sporcle until Allison opened at 4:45, you’re procrastin-eating. If you’ve ever found yourself entirely focused on your bag of vending-machine Salsitas that you weren’t hungry for until you saw the vast white expanse of Microsoft Word that you must magically transform into The A+ Paper That Will Save Your Grade, you’re procrastin-eating. When you don’t know the answer, don’t want to figure it out, and it’s snacktime, you’re procrastin-eating. My name is Eleanor Kinkervoss and I am a procrastin-eater.

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