Rob Ford Knocking Over an Old Woman vs. Rob Ford Walking into Camera: An Analysis

When a mayor admits to crack use and is subsequently stripped of his powers, Sherman Ave admires in sheer awe. That’s why we’ve followed the steady descent of Toronto Mayor Elizabeth Tisdahl’s Rob Ford’s political career into profound heinousness with a tip of the hat and a wink of approval. To determine his progress, we’ve compared two of Ford’s physical blunders over the past six months in a competition which will now universally be known as “Rob Ford Encounters People/Things in his Path.” Here are the two contestants:

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

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*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.

How to Not Give a Fuck About Valentine’s Day and Still Get Laid: A Beginner’s Guide to Accidental Pussy

Aw, you and Marcus didn’t work out?

It’s that time of the year again. No, not Black History Month, though props to my dogs. It’s that time of year when it seems like everyone you know is either:

a) in a relationship with a human
b) in a relationship with a cat
c) in a relationship with their hand

But with Valentine’s Day finally behind us, everyone seemed to be able to put aside their differences and focus on one thing and one thing only: SEX. Fornication, coitus, nooky, whoopee, boinking, taking a roll in the hay. Whatever you call it, it’s probably disgusting. I’m gonna go ahead and assume that you, like most of Northwestern’s population, fell into the third category. Fear not, peasant! As always, I am here to help in times of crisis. Stick to my rules and in no time your dick will be sure to be worming it’s way inside many a skank.