Make Mississippi State Stop Injecting Baby Monkeys With Syphilis!

Mississippi State Head Coach Dan Mullen, relentlessly taunting a family of syphilis-ridden monkeys.

Okay, readers, listen up: I know that your Facebook newsfeed, Twitterfeed, and TV commercial breaks are saturated with people trying to enlist you for causes.  In fact, just yesterday someone invited me to play Farmville.  But this is something much, much more important – more important than any other cause, even battered puppies being serenaded by Sarah McLachlan.

The Mississippi State University football team is kidnapping innocent monkeys from the Amazon Rainforest and injecting them with syphilis.

For fun.

How we should really celebrate Columbus Day

In 1492 Columbus sailed the ocean blue, then was a huge dick

Fall is a marvelous time of the year.  The leaves fall gracefully from the trees, the colors shift from lush greens to warm reds and deep yellows, and Tony Romo throws a lot of interceptions.  But when we’re not busy picking apples, trouncing through corn mazes, and drunkenly stumbling all over the student section of college football games, we have a tendency to catch a bit of a cold.

Now, we weren’t the first people to ever catch a cold in the fall.  Back in the late 15th century, a nice Italian man named Christopher Columbus (think Silvio Berlusconi, but slightly less likely to molest your daughter) became the first second one of the first Europeans to reach what they called “The New World.”  Even though The New World is where we live today, 15th century Europe perceived it as a place of mystery and darkness, much like modern-day Detroit.  Yet, Columbus bravely led his three trusty vessels – the Nina, the Pinta, and the Black Pearl – across the wide Atlantic Ocean and arrived safely in North America.  When he got there, though, it was fall, and many of the locals fell quite ill immediately thereafter.

Today is Columbus Day.  Today is a day we set aside to commemorate and celebrate Columbus and his violent genocide contraction of syphilis status as an explorer.  But a more proper way to recognize this holiday is to go to your local pharmacy, grocery store, or back alley and get a flu shot, to make sure you don’t suffer the same inevitable fate that millions did when Columbus showed up.  So get vaccinated, cuddle up under your warmest blanket, and keep warm this fall.  Happy Columbus Day, America!

May Heinous Breakdown: Pabst Blue Ribbon Division

This is clearly the best possible use of everybody's time.

Yesterday, we unleashed the most heinous assault on history since the Cultural Revolution with Selection Sunday for May Heinous, our 32-team beer pong tournament featuring historical figures vying for the prestigious Morty Schapiro cup. Submissions for the official Sherman Ave May Heinous pool are open until Sunday, May 6th, and can be downloaded HERE before submitting completed brackets to shermanave1@gmail.com.

To further inundate educate our readers on the first-round matchups, our writers have briefly skimmed Wikipedia tirelessly researched the opening round contenders to provide an extensive breakdown of each team of historical figures. We hope our bracketology aids you in your quest for the perfect bracket. Tonight: The Pabst Blue Ribbon Division.

He also hopes to distract opponents with his pronounced moose knuckle.

Napoleon Bonaparte and Christopher Columbus
Napoleon might be a quality partner, if it weren’t for the fact that he has a humongous temper and is paired with a pompous dickwaffle that won’t shut up about discovering the “new land,” which we interpret as the female body (let’s be real, Napolean isn’t tapping Sacagawea tonight).
Christopher Columbus is a Genoese asshole who thinks that just because you’re a celebrity means you get to sail your ship into any damn harbor. This bitch would love to colonize your room tonight, so don’t plan on sleeping in your own bed.
Strengths: Intimidation, Strategy
Weaknesses: General douchebaggery, bad tempers
Team Cohesiveness: 2/10
First-Round Opponents: Andy Warhol and Jack Kerouac
–Professor J. Reginald Vandernips

I refuse to play by the rules you have traditionally set to govern celeb shots.

Andy Warhol and Jack Kerouac
American pop-Art founder Andy Warhol really shouldn’t be in a beer pong tournament unless it involves nude models, Marilyn Monroe, and Campbell’s soup cans. I don’t suspect he’ll be any good at taking shots and he’ll probably refuse to conform to established norms regarding re-racks.  Beatnik writer Jack Kerouac, having played football at Columbia, might actually bring some amount of athleticism to this team, but will probably lose on purpose just so that he can drink himself into enough of a stupor to allow his suppressed homosexuality to come out. Watch out, Martin Luther!
Strengths: Kerouac’s athleticism, Warhol’s re-racks (who knows how to shoot a ping pong ball into a zebra shaped arrangement of cups?)
Weaknesses: A closeted gay man paired with a homosexual icon, Warhol’s supreme lack of athleticism
Team Cohesiveness: 4/10
First-Round Opponents: Napoleon Bonaparte and Christopher Columbus
–Professor J. Reginald Vandernips

If he had the balls to pull off elephants, who knows what will happen on a redemption shot.

Sacagawea and Hannibal Barca
While most claim that Sacagawea was a translator for Lewis and Clark and whatnot, we all know she was there as a sexual release (real talk). Hannibal is considered one of the greatest military strategists, but I can’t get past the fact that his name reminds me of Hannibal Lecter. In any case, this team is bound to accomplish some crazy shit. Hannibal is a boss and can strategize better than most other teams, while Sacagawea can use her long hair and Native American language to distract the other team. She can also throw gold dollar coins bearing her face at opponents (I’m sure those hurt). However, the language barrier may prove problematic when it comes to re-racking and shit-talking.
Strengths: Navigation, Elephants
Weaknesses: Communication, Avalanches
Team Cohesiveness: 7/10
First-Round Opponents: General George McClellan and Margaret Sanger
–Petunia Cracksparkler

Pongs pretty hard with his PIKE brothers on weekends.

General George McClellan and Margaret Sanger
General George McClellan was a sub-par general who tried to oppose Lincoln in an election.  Who the fuck does that?! Margaret Sanger established Planned Parenthood and was a birth control activist (SUCK IT, RUSH LIMBAUGH!). Things for this team could go either way. McClellan surely won’t bring much to the table, yet Sanger is a boss and could potentially put the team on her back.  McClellan can’t really think on his feet, and often receives criticism for not utilizing every shot he’s allowed to take. However, McClellan might just be able to keep it together in the long run, or at least for as long as Sanger needs to kick ass and take names.
Strengths: McClellan’s mustache, the team’s combined prissiness
Weaknesses: Lack of strategic insight, low tolerance
Team Cohesiveness: 4/10
First-Round Opponents: Sacagawea and Hannibal Barca
–Petunia Cracksparkler

Hitler displays his killer follow through.

Jane Austen and Adolf Hitler
Jane Austen: Badass novelist of realist romantic fiction. Adolf Hitler: extreme asswipe and former dictator of Nazi Germany. This was either a match made in heaven, or the wet dream of a heroin addict living in the Lower West Side who fell asleep while watching reruns of The Jetsons. While Hitler will surely bring a high level of determination and aggressive effort to the team, the duo’s success may be compromised by Jane’s likely efforts to undermine her misogynistic partner and general IDGAFing.
Strengths: Makings pacts, breaking pacts, Mr. Darcy
Weaknesses: Fan-section mostly limited to skinheads marching through Skokie and aging housewives
Team Cohesiveness: 4/10
First-Round Opponents: General George S. Patton and Al Gore
–Krystal

BOSS AS FUCK

General George S. Patton and Al Gore
General George S. Patton, known for his strong leadership of the United States Third Army during World War Two, pairs up with Al Gore, former future POTUS, in what should be an interesting game against Jane Austen and Adolf Hitler. The Patton-Gore team will bring bold and relentless efforts to the competition, but Gore’s flip-flopping tendencies could lower the pair’s chances of seizing victory over Austen and Hitler. Expect for Patton to make Der Führer become Der Fürious with repeated mentions of the Invasion of Normandy.
Strengths: The Popular Vote, being the greatest general in history
Weaknesses: The Electoral College, Car Crashes
Team Cohesiveness: 6/10
First-Round Opponents: Jane Austen and Adolf Hitler
–Krystal

Wait, this is the bitch who wrote "The Awakening!?"

Kate Chopin and Idi-Amin
Feminist writer Kate Chopin is not what you’d call an “MVP Contender” in this year’s tournament.  It’s not that she doesn’t have the potential for mediocrity, but rather that she’s too busy writing shitty novels about her white girl problems to invest anything into the game.  Idi-Amin provides an interesting complement to Chopin.  This Ugandan dictator is probably not used to being denied anything at all, let alone a measly beer pong victory.  This team’s only chance to win will be if Idi-Amin’s determined attitude can motivate Ms. (or Mrs.?  Then again, who gives a fuck) Chopin to get her head in the game.  Otherwise, this team doesn’t pose too much of a threat.
Strengths: Absolute power, “underdog” factor
Weaknesses: Power-trip-induced delusion, Kate Chopin
Team Cohesiveness: 4/10
First-Round Opponents: Charles Darwin and Ayatollah Khomeini
–Ross Packingham

He said we're derived from WHAT???

Charles Darwin and Ayatollah Khomeini
If this tournament has a wildcard team, it’s these crazy fuckers; one sports analyst calls them the most eclectic team since the legendary Deng Xiaoping/Patrick Henry combo in 1995.  Charles Darwin should make a pretty large contribution to this team — the guy can probably hold his liquor pretty damn well.  You really think he spent all that time on the Galapagos Islands just watching animals and shit? Nah, the guy was drinking Kahlua out of turtle shells.  Ayatollah Khomeini should also be a strong player, but in a different way.  His lack of experience drinking alcohol could be an obstacle, but he’s also very strong-willed and imposing, which can really go a long way.  This firecracker of a team could really go either way; it should be really interesting.
Strengths: Coups, Sea travel
Weaknesses: Khomeini’s low tolerance, Darwin’s unpopularity with religious conservatives
Team Cohesiveness: 5/10
First-Round Opponents: Kate Chopin and Idi-Amin
–Ross Packingham

The 5 Historical Figures You’d Least Like To See at a Frat Party

Hmmm... why don't you make that THREE kegs of Busch Light

5. Henry Kissinger
I love getting into heated political discussions whilst heavily inebriated as much as the next guy, but there comes a point when you have to draw the line. Yes, Henry Kissinger was one of the greatest political thinkers of the 20th century, but that by no means gives him a place at a frat party. First of all, the guy is older than balls. We must consider the rule of three: If someone has lived to see three presidents die in office, they are too old to set foot in a frat house. Additionally, we must consider the other rule of three: If someone has spent three or more years of their life working under the Nixon administration, they are too heinous to set foot in a frat house.

4. William Howard Taft
Oh, for fuck’s sake! These things are already crowded enough. If we throw a 400-pound man into the mix, we’re completely forfeiting our ability to move. If he was excessively overweight but also cool, like Buddha, then it would be worth sacrificing our mobility, but in reality, he’s just a complete twat. And worse yet, knowing that the presidency didn’t satisfy Taft, and he became a member of the Supreme Court after his presidency, it’s probable that he would not be satisfied by frat parties, and would find it necessary to go The Keg afterwards – another establishment that is already too crowded and doesn’t need yet another morbidly obese man further clogging up the place.

I need a drink, and I need it NOW!

3. Susan B. Anthony
There are some things that feminists simply should not see. The 21st century is one of them. If Susan B. Anthony were to tragically find herself on the 3rd floor of SAE, there are a few possible outcomes. The most likely result is that she would spend about five minutes observing the social phenomenon before her, and then spend the remainder of the party obnoxiously screaming about the oppression of women. However, there’s always the off-chance that she would follow the mold, get unnecessarily trashed, and wake up the next morning on the roof of Swift next to some rando from Pike. Regardless, rather than experimenting with the frat scene, she would be better off where she is now: on the front of gold dollars that stopped being minted in 2001.

2. Charles Dickens
If Dickens couldn’t stand the living conditions of post-industrial England, there’s no way he could stand the living conditions of the DU basement. People go to frat parties to be social, not to watch some elderly British assbag sitting in a corner writing in a romanticized manner about the hardships of being dateraped. However, if Dickens were to experience a frat party, it would very likely have had a tremendous effect on his novels. Oliver Twist would have been ejected from his workhouse not for requesting more food, but for pregaming an 18-hour work shift. Other novels, such as Nicholas Nicklebro and A Tale of Two Titties, would even further deviate from Dickens’ traditional literary style.

Columbus wearing the traditional "party foul" tricorn hat

1. Christopher Columbus
For those of us who have been to frat parties at Northwestern, we know that there are already enough people on power-trips – doormen, bartenders, Sir Twattingworth III, and the like. The last thing we need is some dickbasket walking in, claiming the dilapidated ZBT house in the name of King Ferdinand of Spain, and transmitting diseases to sorority girls (syphilis, PiPhilis, GammaPhilis, etc.). Furthermore, his methods of colonization would hardly work at a frat party; the amount of germs being exchanged is already maximized, and it’s far too hot for anyone to accept a blanket. That being said, there’s something very charming about the notion of three wooden ships landing on North Beach.

Hate a Random Country: Costa Rica

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.