Advertisements
Tag Archives: Costa Rica

Sherman Ave Goes Global!

26 Apr
Much like imperialist Europe in the early 20th century, the colored places are the ones we've conquered

We would like to cordially invite Greenland to suck the fattest dick on the planet.

This is a map of Sherman Ave’s global reach. The countries that are filled in with color have viewed Sherman Ave at least once (obviously, it is the country as a whole viewing it together as part of a ceremony, and not one single person arbitrarily browsing the Internet for fucksaw videos). The color-coding isn’t especially relevant to viewership; it represents the general greatness of the country, judged on the traditional scale of 1 to 32,524.

As part of a marketing effort, we’re making attempts to analyze these global trends of viewership to figure out how we can broaden our appeal, and in all our gratitude and kindness, we’ve decided to show our strategies to you, our dickholders shareholders (remember the other night, when you had one too many and bought $50,000 worth of stock in a blog that doesn’t yet run its own advertisements?).

Let’s start with North America. We’re clearly getting a considerable amount of views from Canada, United States, and Mexico. This is probably due largely to a few shady deals we made in the 1990s when NAFTA was being drafted, shortly after Al Gore invented the Internet.

Even in Central America, some of the rural fruit farmers have found their way onto our joyous blog.* Yes, it may have something to do with the fact that we’ve been actively trading arms to the Sandinistas over the last few years to cover Sherman Ave’s fixed production costs (Miller High Life and Flaming Hot Cheetos), but we also like to think that we’ve managed to score some views in Costa Rica by casually ranting about how much we hate their country.

One of our Brazilian readers, vicariously feeling our sadness at the revocation of The Keg's liquor license

In South America, you may notice that all countries have some level of viewership of Sherman Ave. I know, you might be thinking, “What about French Guiana, Suriname, and Guyana?” In response: Those piece-of-shit countries are not real countries. French Guiana is a territory of France (If the UN Security Council was the Jackson 5, France would be Tito), Suriname’s primary language is Dutch (apparently Dutch is a language?), and Guyana is known best for mass suicide. Although we didn’t get a high quantity of views from countries like Argentina and Brazil, we feel safe in assuming that the views we did came from hot Brazilian models, the Argentinian soccer team, and the corpse of Eva Peron.

Moving onto Europe, you’ll see that we have almost absolute viewership in Europe. This is quite a shocking insight for us; we didn’t realize our writing style crafted such a strong appeal to metrosexual chain-smokers who do nothing but listen to house music and get bailed out by the United States in world wars. Strangely, though, it does seem that there is a small void in Moldova, where the few Internet users are presumably brainstorming ways to make their country relevant and/or dying in abject poverty.

Asia provides arguably the most surprising statistics. Judging from the fact that a) we’ve had no viewers in Yemen or Oman, and b) we’ve gone 1 for 7 with countries ending in “-stan,” our sweeping campaign to appeal to Muslim Internet users has failed unequivocally. We hope to remedy this by expanding our content to be more culturally friendly; in the future, expect continuations of current article series, such as “Point/Counterpoint: Qu’ran vs. Koran,” “Freshman Guide: Finding A Mosque in Evanston,” and “An Open Letter Non-apology to American Automobile Owners.”

Our efforts in Africa, on the other hand, appear to have been successful beyond our wildest dreams. As you can see, we’ve gotten views from every Internet user on the continent.**

No luck with Papua New Guinea, though. We’re discussing the launch of a subsidiary blog called “Pygmy Ave.”

 

*“Rural Fruit Farmer” is incidentally the name of Clay Aiken’s next album.
**We’re assuming the penguins from the movie “Madagascar” haven’t yet figured out how to use the Internet.

Advertisements

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.