Tag Archives: Burger King

10 Events in World History That Totally Should Have Been Pregamed

2 Feb

There was once a time when history was regarded with reverence and esteem. Then the History Channel aired “Ice Road Truckers,” and since then, it has been hard for anyone to take history seriously. That being said, we still view history as an important part of our heritage that must be studied and understood. And by “studied and understood,” we of course mean “examined to establish which historical events would be funniest if all parties involved were shitfaced.” Here at Sherman Ave, history and drinking go together like, well, Mohawk rum and CVS-brand soda. Thus, we proudly present to you the 10 events in world history that totally should have been pregamed.

And you thought Northwestern students' Halloween costumes were offensive

10. The Travels of Marco Polo
As anybody who ever made the excruciating journey from the Keg to the mystical and foreign land of Burger King can attest, drunk adventures just tend to be more interesting than sober travels. Just imagine if Marco Polo had downed two bottles of wine before setting out from Venice! The young guido would probably embark on a series of raucous adventures throughout his travels, recording everything from his first encounters with Asian fusion cuisine in the land of Joy Yee to an ill-fated attempt to skinny dip in the Arabian Sea in an incomprehensibly ungrammatical text message sent to his roommate at three in the morning. The next day, Marco Polo would be way too hungover to feel dismayed by the revelation that, after being carried like three miles by his friends to the Yuan court, Polo used the sacred oil from Jerusalem entrusted to him by Gregory X to introduce the Mongolian Empire to waffle fries before promptly vomiting on Kublai Khan’s lap.

9. The Storming of the Bastille
On July 14, 1789, a bunch of disgruntled poor French people massed upon the Bastille, a large prison known for holding political prisoners. If you think about it, there are only three explanations for masses of people converging on a public place — they’re angry, they’re drunk, or they’re in the Jai Ho music video. Regrettably, seeing as the French were mostly angry in this scenario; they really should have been drunk. Simply compare the nature of angry public gatherings and drunken public gatherings. Angry public gatherings include Occupy Wall Street, Tiananmen Square, and Nazi book burnings. Drunken public gatherings include Snoop Dogg concerts, St. Patrick’s Day, and the celebration of Osama bin Laden’s death. You decide which you find preferable. Besides, A Tale of Two Cities would just be so much more interesting if Madame Lafarge was vomiting uncontrollably in every scene.

8. The Defenestration of Prague
Like anybody needs much provocation to drink in order to escape the infernal bleakness of Eastern Europe. But I usually do need to be at least a couple of shots of absinthe deep before I defend my religious freedom by shoving Catholics out of a third floor window into a pit of manure. Not to mention, a good pregame would have added a whole other layer to the term “getting shit-faced.”

Foam is beer!

7. The Crusades
Which Crusades? ALL OF THEM. ALL OF THE CRUSADES SHOULD HAVE BEEN PREGAMED. Okay, it’s like a road trip, but you can be as sloshy-slosh as you want, because you don’t have to worry about getting a DUI (unless the Holy Roman Empire stringently enforced horse-riding sobriety). Besides, there is no better instigator of belligerent shenanigans than Pope Urban II’s famous declaration, “God wills it!” That’s just asking to be misinterpreted for fratty purposes. Fifteen shots in an hour? God wills it! Eight consecutive kegstands? God wills it! Seriously, if someone walked up to me tomorrow and said “Hey, God wants us to get incredibly blitzed and then go ride a horse from Rome to Jerusalem,” I would instantly buy the necessary supplies. Then I’d probably proceed to buy a bible, to double-check the whole divine mandate thing.

6. Marx Writes the Communist Manifesto
Alcoholism becomes much easier when it’s supported by a good old-fashioned dialectical materialist ideology. A tipsy Marx after an unlucky game of Drunkopoly would undoubtedly replace his theories of Das Kapital with Das Boot, the class struggle with the timeless struggle for consciousness, and the stateless society the ideal of a pants-less society. His manuscript — hastily scrawled on the back of a cocktail napkin — would ignite rebels everywhere with its message, resulting in a series of idealistic revolutions calling for the redistribution of Miller High Life among the proletariat but rapidly degenerating into a dystopian shitshow of Adele lyrics in the gulag of Fran’s Cafe.

5. Hannibal Leading His Army Over the Alps
When I’m plastered, there are only two things I want: Guacamole and Elephants. I have some doubts about the guacamole rations in the Carthaginian army, but there were definitely some fucking elephants. They’re just so large! In that state of mind, it’s difficult to perceive objects larger than the distance between Burger King and 7/11. An elephant would just be mind-blowing. Furthermore, there are tons of fun activities to do in the Alps: skiing, snowboarding, sledding, making snow angels, having snowball fights with fellow Carthaginian soldiers, walking behind Hannibal and quietly muttering lines from “Silence of the Lambs,” etc. If someone just told me to march over an entire mountain range, I’d be pretty miffed, but if someone had me do a power hour and then said “Let’s go hiking!” I’d take the bait like a middle-aged housewife at Herman Cain’s mansion.

A thimblefull of tequila brings out her coquettish side

4. The Trial of Joan of Arc
Tensions might have ran high in the Rouen courtroom as the Maid of Orléans was tried for heresy, but that’s nothing a little Smirnoff chased by a slap can’t solve! If only the Bishop Cauchon had pregamed, the interrogation would have devolved from religious inquiry to a saucy game of “Never Have I Ever,” with questions mostly pertaining to Joan’s fantasies about the Dauphin and her penchant for cross-dressing. Joan of Arc will then famously proceed to declare to the courtroom, “I do not think I am in mortal sin, and if I am, it is for God and the priest in confession to know that I used the pages of Ezekial 23: 19-20 to roll the biggest joint Charles VII ever saw!” The trial would inevitably end with the pronouncement that the patron saint of France was “one righteous motherfucker” before burning her at the stake and cooking escargot over her smoldering ashes.

3. The Arrival of Cortez in Mexico
I’ll be the first to admit: When I’ve have too much to drink, I’m very friendly. Best friends are inundated with hugs, acquaintances are equally inundated with hugs, and the quiet Korean girl from my Econ discussion probably sustains a fairly serious spinal injury from the amount and magnitude of the hugs with which she is inundated. But even in all of my drunken affection, I very rarely greet a stranger and jump to the conclusion that they are the god Quetzalcoatl. There was that one time, but she had a very oddly proportioned face, and I couldn’t come up with any other explanation for it. Ultimately, Montezuma and his Aztec cronies should have heavily pregamed the arrival of Cortez, if for no other reason than to justify their absurd actions (just think if only Cortez had been entranced by the Aztec’s gold tequila rather than the golden buildings of Tenochtitlan). I’d have to be incredibly trashed to give a stranger the keys to the capital city of my civilization, even though I was once trashed enough to lock the keys in the car at 2:30 in the morning after drunkenly transporting a couch through several blocks of downtown Evanston.

2. The Construction of Stonehenge
Seeing as its pretty easy to build Stonehenge in the opening of Civilization IV, I can only assume that the Druids were pretty far gone when they built one the most complex monuments of the Stone Age. I mean, you’d kind of have to be three sheets to the wind to agree to lug 25-ton rocks from a Welsh quarry to some testament for the enterprising spirit of man. Assuming the Druids were drunk on mead, there are few explanations remaining for the memorial. My guess is that they either built a fast-food restaurant catering to students’ late-night culinary needs, or else a bar with a lax ID policy and stripper poles on the dance floor.

Drink every time a Russian model looks like this by the time she hits her mid-thirties?

1. Russia
You may not have ever thought to pregame an entire nation, but it seems like the only appropriate thing to do. I’d really like to isolate a single event in Russian history that needs to be pregamed more than the others, but that is simply a Sisyphean task. Conclusion: Nothing in or relating to Russia should ever involve sobriety. Therefore, instead of painstakingly listing every event in Russian history, I present to you: “History of Russia: The Drinking Game!”
• Drink every time Russia is invaded in the winter against the invader’s better judgment
• Drink every time a prominent politician is sent to a gulag
• Drink every time Brezhnev’s eyebrows appear in an intricate nightmare of yours
• Drink every time Putin shares an uncomfortably intimate moment with a wild animal
• Drink every time Tolstoy and/or Dostoevsky makes you lose faith in everything, LITERALLY EVERYTHING
• Drink every time Tchaikovsky tries to suppress his latent homosexuality
• Drink every time a Russian leader tries to expand executive power
o Drink twice if it’s Putin
• Waterfall from 1917-1991

Ross Packingham and Evander Jones

Holiday Guide: NU Gift Ideas For Your Favorite Wildcat

19 Dec

A yamaka with Pat Fitzgerald's face on it is also appropriate as a Hanukkah gift

So you’ve got to find gifts for the dorm buddies you’ve known less than four months and the friends you haven’t seen since before you lost your innocence. Or maybe you’ve just gotten your early decision letter* and you’re wondering what else you could possibly want in life. Fear not: Sherman Avenue is committed to delivering you new holiday ideas from our sack full of sassy class.

Fucksaw
Admit it: you have those days. You’re hornier than a two-peckered triceratops, but too tired to go all the way up north to flirt your way into some frat bro’s lovestained man-cave and too classy to booty text your “It’s Complicated” on the fourth floor. Hell, you don’t want to deal with people at all. This is why sex toys exist. Remember: nothing says Wildcat Pride like a decently sized purple drilldo.

A Framed Photo of Yourself
Because who wouldn’t want that? You could even pose like the self-photography of 13-year-old girls whose love for MySpace is only second to love of themselves. If you’re really feeling it, make it a poster — the recipient can put it above their bed and wake up self-gratify themselves to it every morning like they did with their Channing Tatum poster in middle school. But this time, they might even have your fucksaw to help out.

A Framed Photo of Morton Schapiro
See above.

Box O’Fun
Not what it sounds like, and a legit good idea. I’m compiling quotations that are inspiring (“Remember, things are never so bad that they can’t get worse”), dorky (“Is your name Avada Kedavra? Cause you’ve got a killer bod”), mature (“I’M STANDING RIGHT BEHIND YOU…made you look”) and thoughtful (“Can I borrow your hair straightener?”). I’m putting them with candy in a small tasteful storage container names-in-a-hat style, and instructing my BFF to draw a quotation every time she needs to de-stress or procrastinate.

Gift Card to Burger King
Let’s be real: after Willard dining hall, this is your friend group’s second-most-patronized food acquisition area in Evanston. Late-night drunchies? Weekend Hinman’s too busy? You give someone the gift of free burgers, and they’re gonna use it.

Would you like that gift rapped?

A Frat Bro
So what if your homegirl’s not rushing? You might still consider getting a talented PMA bro to serenade her. May I recommend Flight of The Conchord’s classic ditty, “Most Beautiful Girl in the Room.”** Because sometimes, we all need our fucksaws to have faces.

Cookies
No matter how incredible hot cookie bar can be, nothing compares to homemade peanut blossoms. Nothing.

Another legit idea: “Cookie mix in a jar.” You’ve seen it. Someone gives out a jar/bag/mug of dry ingredients and lets the recipient do the messy work. But it’s cute.

A Stripper
Give me one reason why not. I dare you.

The Love Professor will see you now

Professor J. Reginald Vandernips
Women love him. Men love him. Parents, pets, and children of all ages love him. He knows more about cooking than Rachel Ray and Martha Stewart put together, regularly fielding obscure questions regarding food science and practicing his skills. He’s slept under lecture tables in Tech and licked objects labeled “biohazardous.” If there is one thing on this list that you choose to purchase for your wildcat, let it be Professor Reggie V.

Keep your friends close and your heinousness closer.

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*In which case, CONGRATS!
**Ellie K once had an overnight tryst with a boy who sang her that very song. However, contrary to what one might expect, the full-length serenade did not facilitate the hookup, but rather transpired a significant amount of time later in a location where she was quite literally The Only Girl in the Room. She’s never been quite sure what to make of that.

10 Things You Should Appreciate More Than You Do Right Now

5 Dec

As a nonsarcastic person who is truly grateful for all that is sacred and pure in the world, I have compiled an anthology of joyous occurrences in our day-to-day lives for which we should occasionally praise the Gods Of Modern Innovation. Remember: your life could always be worse.

Unfortunately, walking through a cloud of febreeze is not an adequate substitute for doing one's laundry

1. Antibacterials
Judging from the state of your bedroom/bathroom/kitchen, you should be making blood sacrifices to Alexander Fleming’s ghost in thanks for saving your life from everything that’s been lurking in the dark crevices of your home since three months after the last time you cleaned it (whenever that was). If it wasn’t for Penicillin and Febreeze, 1 out of every 3 Northwestern students would have died after moving out of the dorms.* So as long as your housemates don’t find out that the lovestains on the couch probably pose more of a public health threat than Miley Cyrus’s bubonic-plague-infected pubic lice, you’re in the clear to keep up the sanitation substitution.

2. Drunk Sex
Not only are you getting some (however mediocre it may be), you have an excuse for absolutely anything that goes wrong: STDs, ugly partners, impotence, birth control malfunction, commitment, name amnesia, or being a shitty lay.

3. You’re Not a Music Major
Do you want fries with that?

4. Man Nipples
They’re useless and goofy-looking, but amusing all the same. Kind of like Furby.

A Motherfucker

5. Motherfuckers
If it weren’t for people unjustly treating you like shit, you’d have nothing to complain about. How could you play the martyr if that douchetard hadn’t cut you in line at Starbucks this morning? It took a whole extra five minutes to order your lowfat caramel soy frappalatte, and by the time you got home you’d missed the first five minutes of Gossip Girl, and everyone knows if you miss the first five minutes you might as well have missed the whole goddamn show.

6. Motherfuckers Who Have to Wait on You
Next time the almost-middle-aged hippie taking your order at BK starts snarking, put on your best holier-than-thou attitude and consider yourself well off. Nothing will make you appreciate life more than knowing that an asshole observably nearby is significantly unhappier than you, and there’s only a 1 in 17 chance of improving their pathetic present situation.** They will be dealing with drunk Evanston kids at 2 AM for the rest of their lives. Schadenfreude, bitches.

7. Prostitutes
You’ll never be that slutty. See previous sentence.

8. Lady Gaga
Most of the time, she’s doing her best to make you feel normal. But then there was the night you needed fashion inspiration for your pre-Rocky Horror shopping trip, and Johnny Depp wasn’t going to cut it.

9. You’re Not Anne Frank.

Finish your hot cookie bar! There are starving children in Somalia.

10. The Freshman Fifteen
To you, “Ethiopian cuisine” means skipping the dining hall buffets for Addis Ababa, not half an ounce of stale flatbread and a leaf of rotten cabbage with the occasional Vitamin Beetle protein supplement. Struggling with your muffin top is infinitely better than struggling out of the dumpster behind your local Denny’s. Then again, your weight problems could also be correlated to your NU-student-loan-related inability to afford anything but the McDonald’s dollar menu, in which case, there’s always prostitution. See #7.

Now zip up your pants, you goddamn ego masturbator, and get back to your finals. They’re the only thing you have left to bitch about.

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*2010 study by John Michael Bailey.
**2011 study by John Michael Bailey.

10 Reasons Why You Should Apply to be a Writer for Sherman Ave

18 Oct

Everything the sun touches will be yours

10. You want to get involved on campus.
Sherman Ave is a great way to get involved, because… well…
…okay, there’s a reason this is number ten. But it sure is a hell of a lot better way to get involved here at Northwestern than joining a group of peppy undergrads who sing a capella covers of Yellowcard.

9. You aren’t currently a writer on Sherman Ave.
Realistically, you aren’t content with that. Join us, and we will imbue your life with meaning and satisfaction.

Ross Packingham as a child

8. The lifestyle.
Drugs, sex, and rock and roll. Except it would be more aptly described as alcohol, alcohol, and Bruce Springsteen. C’mon, all the cool kids are doing it. So is some twat named Evander Jones.

7. You love Morty.
We love Morty. Is that not enough? Just think about the man’s silky, silvery beard and how much you’d love to write articles about it.

6. Pseudonyms.
Everyone secretly yearns for a secret identity. As a writer on Sherman Ave, you’ll get the chance to not only have a secret identity, but to have a secret identity that offends at least 85% of the global population.

Warning: All new Sherman Ave writers must first pledge their undying love and allegiance to Pippa before they can start writing

5. You’re unnecessarily attracted to Pippa Middleton.
Join the club, champ.

4. It’s free.
We live in a world where nearly everything costs money – barring, of course, happiness. And while money can’t buy happiness, being a writer on Sherman Ave can bring you relative happiness from the heinousness and despair you thrust upon others. And if that’s not enough to warm the cockles of your frigid heart, just think of all the slampieces you’ll bag as a writer for this blog (unless, of course, you first have to explain to her that you are the true identity of somebody named “Sir Edward Twattingworth III”).

3. You went to Lyons Township High School.
We don’t know what it is about that place, but they manage to crank out more atrocious individuals than Octo-Mom would if she were boinking Fred Phelps.

2. You came to our informational meeting.
It was at Burger King at 1 o’clock on a Saturday afternoon. You wore a three-piece suit with a keyboard tie. We were visibly intoxicated. Don’t even try telling us you were just there for the food.

A graphical representation of the Sherman Ave community

1. The people.
Sherman Ave is an excellent group of people, who will do everything from drunkenly showing up to a house party dressed as John F. Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe to beaning you in the cranium with freshly-picked apples. The people who aren’t us want to be us. And the people who don’t want to be us are probably from one of the following countries: Latvia, New Zealand, Iceland, Uruguay, Brazil, Kyrgyzstan, São Tomé and Príncipe, France, or Costa Rica.

Hate a Random Country: Costa Rica

6 Oct

One of the numerous heinous individuals populating this tainthole of a country

A few weeks ago, a member of our presteinous (that’s prestigiously heinous, if you’re wondering) blog was approached at an off-campus party and asked if we would write an installment of our unnecessarily abrasive “Hate a Random Country” series on his home country, Costa Rica. The member of the blog, who was most certainly not Evander Jones, got down from the table on which he was exuberantly belly-dancing and happily agreed to have the article written. That being said, this article is not being written only by request – it’s being written because Costa Rica is home to a massive concentration of twatitude that can be rivaled only by the Seneca Falls Convention.

“Costa Rica” is a country similar to “Democratic Republic of Congo,” in that its name in no way reflects the country itself. Spanish for “Rich Coast,” Costa Rica is truly only rich in two things: Trees and tainthood. I’ll focus mostly on the tainthood.

Red, white, and blue!? BRILLIANT!!!

For those of us who don’t give a flying fuckstick about shithole countries like Costa Rica, it may be a surprise to learn that the currency in Costa Rica is the “colón” – presumably named for either the human colon or Cristobal Colón, a.k.a. Christopher Columbus. After all, who wouldn’t want their currency named after a raging cockbottle who exploited their people? For fuck’s sake, Costa Rica. You don’t see Cherokees running around paying with Jacksons, or Northwestern’s defense running around paying with Anyones. Worse yet, the abbreviation for the Costa Rican Colón is, surprisingly enough, CRC – an acronym that, to Northwestern students, encompasses nearly all the School of Comm’s limitless atrociousness.

Besides their poorly-named currency, the country with a president named “Chinchilla” boasts many more aspects worth scrutinizing. For example, its coat of arms is the feeblest display of culture I’ve seen since Kappa Sig went to the Shedd Aquarium. The image consists of several features:

Contrary to initial beliefs, this is not a 5th Grade Social Studies project

  • A landmass.  Presumably representing Costa Rica, the landmass is a strip of land with three unnaturally phallic geographic features.
  • Two bodies of water.  Divided by the landmass, they likely represent the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans.  Because clearly, Costa Rica is the only fucking country that borders two oceans.
  • Two ships.  Likely representing the Nina and the Pinta.  Or the Nina and the Santa Maria.  Or the Pinta and Santa Maria.  Or maybe just two generic coming-to-totally-fuck-your-people-over ships.
  • A banner over the top reading “America Central.”  Apparently, no one ever informed these dumbshits that it’s called “Central America.”

The only thing rivaling Costa Rica's lack of defense is the Northwestern secondary

Perhaps the most unique fact about Costa Rica is that they don’t have a military.  Yes, you heard me.  To show you the full impact of this absurdity, allow me to put it into perspective.  On Monday nights, the backdoor of the Keg is more protected than the nation of Costa Rica.  On weekend nights, Burger King’s line-forming traditions are more protected than the nation of Costa Rica.  Two hammered college students bumping uglies in the basement of ZBT are more protected than the nation of Costa Rica.

You know, you’d think that a country bordering Nicaragua and Panama wouldn’t look too bad. But Costa Rica did it. And to be honest, that’s the one feat of Costa Rica that honestly impresses me. The nation’s four all-time Olympic medals aren’t impressive. The national soccer team’s four visits to the World Cup aren’t impressive. But damn – those Costa Ricans sure do know how to make themselves look like dickbrains. Well done, Costa Dickbrains. Well done.

Sherman Ave Freshman Guide: Making Friends

4 Sep

I see 2,000 future friends

One of the best aspects of the college experience is how many fascinating people you meet and subsequently engage in raucous shenanigans with. A good collection of bffles can be an essential asset in all of the tasks that you will face during your freshman year, from drunkenly yelling at buoys in Lake Michigan to figuring out how to torrent The Lion King 1 1/2 without getting caught.

At first, making friends with complete strangers in a strange, strange land replete with fraternities, an all-night Burger King, and theater students can seem like a frightening challenge. But that’s no cause for alarm. Everybody is in the same boat as you, and upon completion of your freshman year you will be astounded by how many cool friends you have made and how many mysterious names still remain in your phone’s contacts — the forgotten identities of all your over-eager peers who decided to try and befriend you due to your proximity to one another at March through the Arch. Just remember that friendships grow organically and cannot be forced, unless, of course, you follow our sage wisdom on how to meet new friends.

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Sherman Ave Freshman Guide: Evanston

30 Aug

After immersing yourself for a few weeks in the infamous college lifestyle, you’ll be surprised to discover that – just a few blocks from that wall of Jones on which you triumphantly urinated – there is a real city with real people. As easy as it is to be insulated in Northwestern’s spectacular campus, the city of Evanston is a great resource. The following comprehensive guide to key businesses in Evanston will assist you in your efforts to take advantage of the city (omitting Burger King and The Keg, since we’ve already explained their glorious nature).

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Sherman Ave Freshman Guide: Dorm Life

26 Aug

The legendary Tupac Shakur once famously stated, “I didn’t choose the thug dorm life, the thug dorm life chose me.” For several reasons, surviving dorm life can certainly be one of the most difficult challenges you’ll face your freshman year. While some things (ex: People vomiting outside of your room and covering it up with printer paper) are out of your control, the proper knowledge and expectation of what lies ahead can help equip you for a successful year.

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Sherman Ave Freshman Guide: Burger King

16 Aug

Tendercrisp sammiches never tasted as delicious as they do at 2 o'clock in the morning

Outside of Evanston, most people know Burger King as a run-of-the-mill fast food joint that exclusively employs cracked-out high school dropouts. At Northwestern, however, Burger King (colloquially known as “BK” or “The BK Lounge”) is the place to go if you want ruefully sub-par food (although it may not seem so at the time), the experience of seeing a security guard power-trip more than was previously conceivable, and the guarantee of a drunken encounter with that hot girl from your Global History discussion. Rumored to be the highest grossing Burger King in the United States, this sacred building on Clark Street is familiar to all Northwestern students. To help ease your transition into the student body, here are some insights into this legendary establishment.

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