An Open Letter to My Newsfeed

(via guardianlv.com)

Dearest Newsfeed,

We’ve been through a lot together. You’ve seen me at my darkest hours. Those hours when the juices of procrastination were oozing out my every pore and my soul was the emaciated shell of an empty Red Bull can. You’ve been by my side for many excellent decisions, such as when I drunkenly chatted my middle-school boyfriend “just to say hey.” We even took Stats 202 together.

You get me. You know that when I say “hide from newsfeed,” it means I’m sick of seeing that kid’s damn face or hearing about that girl’s stupid day. You’ve molded to my desires like a memory-foam mattress. You know what statuses I’m going to “like,” because I do, in fact, like them. When my best friend adds a new photo, you make damn sure I see it.

You share with me

How to Feed Yourself and Your Unpaid Internship

There’s nothing like the sweet flavor of an unpaid internship.

Seriously. There literally is nothing like that. Unpaid internships taste like shit, because most internships boil down to three-plus months of ass kissing and there’$ nothing to $weeten the deal.

Plus, you’re starving. Because when you’re in New York, San Francisco or any other city where each square foot of rent costs the sum total of Dolly Parton’s plastic surgeries, do you have the cash to spare for sustenance?

$ign$ point to n0.

Norris Begins Planning Half-Birthday

Surprisingly, this is not a still-frame from a movie about a dystopian society.

EVANSTON – Administrators at Northwestern University’s Norris Student Center announced this morning that they are officially making plans for an extravagant week-long celebration of the building’s half-birthday this summer.

Norris Executive Director Kelly Schaefer expressed the importance of the celebration.

“You know, some people don’t think half-birthdays are worth celebrating,” said Schaefer.  “But, like, come on!  Those people just don’t know how to have fun.  They’re probably the same people who think that Norris doesn’t need a game room.”

Sixty Hues of Sex, part 1

Not for the faint of heart. Or stomach.

So I was reading the NY Times the other day, as part of my daily pretention ritual, and I happened upon a section that listed the top 10 best selling books of 2012. What was the best-selling book, you ask? 50 Shades of Grey. In fact, all three books in this horrendous trilogy were on the list. What the fuck, America? What the soft-porn-disguised-as-fiction fuck?! Are we really at the point where some British chick writing Twilight fan-fiction can become a best-selling author by writing such gems as “my insides practically contort with potent, needy, liquid, desire.”*

However, as disgusted as I am by the state of American literary consumption, I am still an extremely greedy individual. So, I figured I would strike while the iron is hot. If this moron can write popular porn fiction, then I sure as shit can. So, without further or do, I present:

Things You Should and Should Not Do Before The World Ends Tomorrow

Okay guys. It’s here. We’ve been anticipating its arrival for a while now, and there’s no way to avoid it.

The world is going to end tomorrow.

Now, there’s no need to panic.  This is our fate and it is unstoppable.  The Mayans predicted the world would end this way and wait maybe if they were so smart their whole goddamn empire wouldn’t have fallen they were apparently good at predicting things.  At this point, all we can do is make the most of our remaining eleven hours on this planet.

This might seem overwhelming.  “How should I spend my last half-day alive,” you might ask yourself, suggestively eyeing the bottle of KY Jelly you keep in your pantry.  Well fear not, you soon-to-be-dead reader.  Sherman Ave has got you covered with the essential shoulds and should-nots of your last day on Earth.

An Open Letter to Final Papers

Can’t tell if she is stressed about finals or just got fingered by Wolverine.

Okay, this has gone far enough.

You can ask anyone I know, I am a man of my word. When I lose a bet to my friends, I pay up. When I promise my older step-brother that I’ll do his chores if he would please just finally tell me what a dingleberry is, I do his chores. And I recognize that you and I made a pact a few months ago. I told you that I would write you, and Mephistopheles was there, and then we went on this crazy flying journey; it was eerily like the story of Faust.

Being that I am a man of my word, I will do as I have promised. I will go to the University Library, check out a bunch of giant books with frayed covers, and leaf through them to find keywords and phrases that will assist me in writing you in the most bullshit-heavy manner possible. But not before I give you a piece of mind. So here goes.

A Super Serious Restaurant Review of Frontera Fresco for Super Serious People

Does this count as a multicultural credit?

Frontera Fresco is the worst creperie cum Jamba Juice cum sushi hut cum Sbarro I have ever patronized. Let’s enjoy that imagery for a moment.

Anyway. Frontera Fresco is a new restaurant. In Norris Center. Owned by Chicago chef Rick Bayless. It serves “quick-service” (more on that later) Mexican food (also more on that later). To college students. And, presumably, the Norris cat lady. Here are some quick key facts that must be understood in order to appreciate the impact of Frontera Fresco on the Northwestern dining scene and community at large.

Why I’m Super Mad At You Freshmen

Assholes.

Dear Freshmen,

I love you, but you’re bringing me down. Actually, I don’t, but you totally are. How can one love that which is unlovable unknown to him? I didn’t realize you guys were here yet. I even trolled your Facebook group all summer and STILL didn’t figure out that you would be arriving just abouuutt now. See, I live in this magical, far-off place called “off-campus.” You’ll visit this fantasyland someday. It’s the tits. Well, being off-campus, I failed to witness the warning signs of the invasion of the freshmen army (I’ve been trapped indoors gaming and boozing all day. YOLO). From my ivory tower that’s more like an ugly 70’s era building with a blue façade and crappy windows facing another ugly building, I failed to see the smoke rising above Evanston. I could not have known. Or perhaps I did, and wished to forget. It certainly would explain the day-drinking.

It was not until I journeyed into Evanston proper that I witnessed the extent of the devastation caused by YOU PEOPLE. I expected there to be pillaging and plundering, oh yes. After all, such is the nature of the annual sacking of this super pretentious and poorly designed city. But one can never truly be prepared for such a thing. It’s why I dropped out of Boy Scouts — their false promises of being prepared, and the diddling.

My trip to Chipotle and CVS opened my eyes to the chaos. Traffic on the way there seemed normal, at least, as normal as it can be when the roads are torn up and there are no lanes or sidewalks (seriously, who the fuck does that at the busiest time of the year, and for no apparent reason? Good job, Mayor Tisdahl.)

But within CVS I witnessed a maelstrom hitherto unforeseen. The lines for checkout reached all the way to the frozen pizzas (300% markup from Jewel prices! Convenient!) So many confused people, so many mothers asking, “Do you need this?” “Where are the condoms?” and “Who is Chet Haze?” All totally valid questions, all totally answerable, all totally annoying when all I’m trying to do is grab some Zyrtec and Mountain Dew. It was hell.

And at Chipotle, the worst crime yet. I had to WAIT for my food, for, like, a whole minute, at 2:45 IN THE GODDAMNED AFTERNOON (This is breakfast time for me.) How is there a line at such a time? Why didn’t you get lunch BEFORE you went to CVS?!?! You would’ve bought fewer $6 packages of cookies that way! Or you could’ve gone to TARGET!!! Or to a restaurant unique to Evanston!!! ALL OF OUR BARS ARE RESTAURANTS BY LAW!!!!!!!

I wearily departed downtown Evanston, my soul burdened by what I had seen. “Seriously, why did that one freshman girl buy bubble-gum flavored Trident? That shit tastes like ass.” I asked myself this question, and many others, on the long, treacherous, 30-second bike ride back to my apartment. I recognized my strife to be but the first experience of many to come, in which YOU, freshmen, would make my life slightly more miserable because SCAPEGOATING. Seriously, I can’t even imagine how f’d up campus looks right meow. It’s all the fault of Adam freshmen.

Calm the fuck down.

There is no denying your nature, freshmen. You will ask stupid questions in class. You will travel in large groups, fully knowing it is totally unnecessary and obnoxious. You will go to parties, and throw up in the corner, and then not tell anyone you threw up in the corner because oh God the embarrassment of throwing up in the corner. You will do all these things, and many more, and you will be sorry, but also, totally not sorry, because this is college and everyone before you made the same mistakes and who do you even tell when you throw up in the corner?

And we, dear freshmen, we will weep for you, we will curse you, we will roll our eyes at you and give you the wrong directions when you ask where Pancoe is. Because that is our nature. We, the upperclassmen, who are fundamentally no different than you except we pretend to know more and get away with it sometimes.

And yet, we cherish you, freshmen. You guys make us laugh. You give us stories. You fill us with hope that Northwestern will retain its 12^th place ranking for yet another year. For that I thank you. For everything else, I curse you.

Go Cats,
The Commandant

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Five Objects That Should Be Made “For Her”

I have recently discovered that BiC has been making pens tailored specifically for women. These pink-and-purple innovations, made for ladies’ dainty hands, have enabled women to learn their ABCs, make pretty cursive letters, and even write out recipes. Of course, I can’t wait to get my hands on one, but in the meantime I thought I’d meekly suggest other female-oriented products to make women’s lives easier.

1. Beer and Soda/pop cans

My delicate feminine lips have been having difficulties sipping from the harsh metallic holes on the cans. If the makers of Natty could only market some pink fuzzy lids (floral decorations optional; I don’t ask for much) containing fruity flavors and roofies already mixed in, it would be so much easier to inebriate and “surprise” me.

Ellie K’s best parking job.

2. Doors

I can’t open doors for myself! Not only is it indecent, but my womanly muscles simply cannot muster the strength to turn knobs or push frames. Sometimes when I’m driving with my boyfriend (don’t worry- he’s always behind the wheel), he forgets to open the car door and let me out, and I have to sit there until he finishes eating his Chipotle. If there isn’t a chivalrous young chap around to open the doors to the Bloomingdale’s building, I’m often in such a tizzy that I can’t decide which miniskirt to buy. And don’t even get me started on revolving doors – I can’t figure out how those things work. If we only had doors that opened for women.

3. Washing machines

Wait, never mind. Those are already only for women.

4. Bookshelves

Look, I can’t read or comprehend big words (like all Sherman Ave writers), but I do understand this: I’m too petite to reach the top shelves in the kitchen, rendering them unusable. The bookshelves in our immaculately vacuumed living room are currently occupied by dictionaries, Catcher in the Rye, Shakespeare, and other things that don’t contribute to the enrichment of humanity.  So let’s get rid of those meaningless piles of ink and paper, paint those ugly planks a nice shade of mauve,* and I’ll store the waffle-maker where I don’t have to worry about it falling on my pretty face.

This was the best idea I’ve had all day. This was the only idea I’ve had all day. I really must phone the other ladies in the quilting circle.

5. Colleges

Sometimes having to interact with pre-med students and math majors makes my weensie brain feel justifiably inferior. But I bet if there were more schools like Barnard, we could focus on learning the things that really make the world run, like electric stoves and really good blowjobs. Why can’t I just major in ponies?

You miss 100% of the heinousness you don’t take. – Wayne Gretzky

_______

*Note to men: There are words – supposedly in English – that can only be identified or understood by women. They include mauve, ecru, duvet, lunula, flambé, macramé, purl, and selvedge. If anyone who claims to possess a penis can identify what these words mean, place a spider nearby and see if “he” can kill it on his own. If she cannot, do NOT under any circumstances give her power tools.

Sherman Ave’s Facebook Page is also made “for her.” You should like it.

Sherman Ave Freshman Guide: Evanston

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).