Let it Snow (Please, for the Love of God)

Dear Weather,

What the fuck is going on.

If you live in the Chicagoland area, or really anywhere in the eastern/central Midwest, you have probably noticed something very peculiar this December, something that doesn’t quite gel with how you’ve experienced the Decembers of yesteryear:  You’ve looked outside your window, and seen grass.  Un-blanketed, un-white grass.  Again: it is late December.  There should be snow.  Where the fuck is the snow. 

Lil Wayne Preparing for Annual Skeet Trip

Dr. Carter, whose breath has already begun to fog in anticipation of the Skeet Trip’s climate.

NEW ORLEANS — According to a press release from Birdman Jr.’s head of public relations, Dwayne Michael Carter, Jr., known by his stage name Lil Wayne, spent his Friday afternoon enthusiastically making final preparations for his 12th Annual Skeet Trip.

Scheduled for December 15 through the 21st, the Skeet Trip is the largest rapper-organized Skeet Trip in the country. Under the direction of Lil Wayne, Lil John, The East Side Boyz, and the Ying Yang Twins, the Skeet Trip has evolved from a weekend trip to blow off some steam and enjoy the company of choice biddies to a weeklong skeeting bonanza in Park City, Utah. The group of rappers and hip hop artists continues to run the highly anticipated skeet trip at the end of every winter break, making it one of the largest lyricist-run-man-juice-ejaculation excursions in the nation (excluding, of course, the Grammy Awards).

It’s Thanksgiving: The Nicole Westbrook Story

It was a dark August night in the Westbrook household. Nicole was left with a burden she could not explain. Standing on the front deck, she contemplated all the memories she had had with her family inside. The December Christmases, where she would be denied no gift that she truly wanted. The January New Years’s, when her parents would let her throw parties the whole grade would be invited to. The April Easters, when the living room would flow with candy as she walked down from her bedroom. Most importantly, the Fourth of July pool parties that were talked about months in advance.

4 Nuisances Of Being Home

They say there’s no place like home. While it has been quite fantastic to spend some time relaxing at home with my family now that finals are over, there are certain aspects of being home that I had forgotten how much I don’t like. Indeed, sadly, home doesn’t consist solely of gourmet food and a nice bed. So without further ado, I present – in all my glorious bitching – four things that have bothered me since I’ve come home.

Nothing says "Christmas" like a shouting match with your father over light placement

4. Putting Up Christmas Lights
There’s just nothing like a Christmas tradition. Every December, my parents hand me a string of sorry-ass fucking Christmas lights and a ladder (which, incidentally, is about as stable as the Zambian government) and give me one objective: Make the 25-foot leafless tree in front of our house look slightly more festive and slightly less flaccid. It’s especially fun when, after an hour spent climbing around the tree like a paraplegic chimpanzee, I finish decorating the tree to discover that approximately a quarter of the lights actually function. Ultimately, though, it’s worth the Christmas cheer. Every time I look at that pathetic tree and the lights which appear to have been put up by a blind lemur, I am filled with an overwhelming sense of holiday spirit. And by holiday spirit, I mean uncontrollable rage.

3. Losing To My Parents in Scrabble
I don’t know about you guys, but I love shit-talking (Side note: Being from Denver, Tim “The Jesus” Tebow has regaled me with a whole anthology of shit-talking materials). Therefore, when my parents suggest a casual post-dinner Scrabble game, I immediately acquire the attitude of a theoretical lovechild of Terrell Owens and Pau Gasol. This shit-talking strategy pays off richly, seeing as I often demolish my parents and subsequently run naked victory laps around the dining room table. And this isn’t me bragging about my Scrabble skills; the case is rather that my parents don’t give two shits about whether or not their placement of “twat” (I truly wish I were lying about my dad playing that in Scrabble) opens up availability to the Triple Word space. Tonight, however, my shit-talking strategy failed me, as I fell short by one point against my mom. Ugh. Now I just feel like a douche.

2. Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
I never thought it would be possible to make such a trainwreck out of a movie starring Natalie Portman, Ewan McGregor, and Samuel L. Jackson, but damn it all if it hasn’t been done. I mean, seriously, what a steaming cinematic shitstack. The kid who starred as Anakin Skywalker (out of principle, I’m not looking up the little fucker’s name) is more obnoxious than the Nyan Cat on methamphetamines. And Jar Jar Binks? I don’t know whose idea it was to combine the voice of an illiterate Louisiana swamp-person with the visual representation of a banana peel with birth defects, but that idea single-handedly ruined my childhood. Honestly, the only thing they could have done to make this movie any worse would be casting Nick Cage as Senator Palpatine. Yeah, just imagine it.

"To the nights you wish you could forget."

1. Vodka Commercials
Maybe this is something I’m just noticing now because I spend 8 hours a day watching TV (luhhhh vacation), but vodka commercials are absolutely preposterous. The one that I find most personally absurd is a Grey Goose commercial, featuring the tagline: “To the nights you’ll never forget.” I don’t know what sort of idiots are running the marketing department over at Grey Goose, but they clearly lack a fundamental understanding of alcohol. Granted, the tagline “To the nights you’ll blackout and then discover five weeks later that you vomited gratuitously” isn’t quite as catchy, but it is certainly more accurate. It just seems that somewhere in the attempt to craft a convincing image-based appeal, the morons over at Grey Goose forgot some of the drawbacks of downing vodka. If I were Grey Goose, I’d try something more along the lines of “To the poke wars you drunkenly initiated with the entirety of your high school government class” or “To the texts you receive from your mom the next morning saying ‘You might want to take that video off of Facebook.’”

Sherman Ave Freshman Guide: Packing

Don't forget your D&D board

It’s late August, all of your friends are already at college, and – as much as you love watching 7 episodes of Jeopardy every day – you’re starting to get pretty antsy to leave home. Unfortunately, one gargantuan task stands in between you and your soon-to-be heinousness: packing. Well, tits. The dilemma of what-to-pack vs. what-not-to-pack is a difficult one for all incoming freshmen, but hopefully the following guidelines can help you pack for college with more efficiency and success.

Rule #1: Pack Light
Now I don’t want to sound like your grandpa, but when I marched across Europe in Patton’s Third Army, I was allowed to carry nothing but a canteen and a rifle. The ability to pack light is not only an excellent life skill (just ask anyone except Chris McCandless), but is also indispensable when moving to college. For one thing, you won’t make a stellar first impression on your roommate if you show up on the first day with 200 books and 35 hoodies. Additionally, it’s important to note that your dorm rooms are not especially large. And when I say “not especially large,” what I mean is “atrociously small.” Unless you live in Rogers House, in which case you have numerous other concerns.