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Tag Archives: defense

#GetFuckedCal

29 Aug
Don't ask what the lightsaber's for.

Don’t ask what the lightsaber’s for.

Dear Cal,

I know we’ve only seen each other once before, but apparently the thorough dicking you received during the Truman administration was so great you couldn’t help but ask us to come back for more.

So here we are, yet again, the Gator Bowl Champion Wildcats visiting Berkeley for the first time since the Soviets went all nuclear and since the sad hippie burnout Golden Bears last retained any sense of national relevance.  And this time, Fitz and his 22nd nationally-ranked crew come bearing a message:

Get fucked Cal.

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Sherman Ave’s Dating Profile

14 Nov

A good profile picture should stick in peoples minds.

Haaaiii guyzz, I’m new here. And bitterly disappointed. Was anyone else under the impression that Sherman Ave was a dating site? Kept exclusively for Northwestern’s most heinous sexual predators and most socially awkward? I thought they were just really into necrophilia, seeing as they spend an awful lot of time talking about hooking up with dead historical figures.

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#GetFuckedVandy

5 Sep

Dear Vandy,

Get fucked.

Seriously. We mean it. From the 20 of us hanging around Evanston and the scores more waiting at home in Westchester for school to start, Wildcat nation would like to invite you to get fucked come this Saturday night.

Wipe that smile off your face and pay attention. We’re not talking about “getting fucked up,” so you can leave your Miller Chill and Croakies back with your Brad Paisley in that just-southern-enough-to-make-you-feel-uncomfortable city you call home.

No. Vandy, you’re going to get fucked so bad the University will have to change its nickname from the Commodores to the Rear Admirals.

When the lights come on at Ryan Field this weekend, prepare to get smoked by the Wildcats like it’s the U.S. News and World Report college rankings.

#SyracuseGotFucked

Don’t say we didn’t warn you when the Northwestern Stripes Wildcats roll through your defenses like General Sherman. I mean, let’s be honest here: Colter and Siemian are the most dangerous one-two combination the City of Nashville has faced since Major General George H. Thomas and Major General John Schofield kicked your ass in 1864.

Sure, Jordan Rodgers hooks up with Jordan Matthews more often than your frat brothers score with biddies in stupidly oversized hats. And yes, our defense has been known to Dukakis away a lead or two in the past. But at least our coach isn’t the biggest chauvinistic prick your school has produced since Jay Cutler, an impressive feat coming from a school like Vanderbilt.

When did being the doormat of the entire SEC allow for you to eschew all reason and presume you would not get entirely fucked this Saturday? If the robber baron founder of Vanderbilt University could conceivably win a douche-off against Northwestern’s genocide-apologist forebearer, is that really a good thing?

#GetFuckedVandy isn’t just a hashtag. It’s a promise. Venric Mark will annihilate you. Chi Chi Ariguzo will strangle you. Pat Fitzgerald will outman you and Kyle Prater will dickslap Al Gore just for good measure.

Get fucked Vandy.

Cordially,
Evander Jones

LIKE OUR FACEBOOK PAGE to sign our petition to stop the Vanderbilt University Football Team’s brutal clubbing of baby seals.

Northwestern would TOTALLY be in the Final Four right now

26 Mar

Shurna leading us to hypothetical victory.

While the NCAA Tournament Selection Committee decided that NU didn’t technically “make the Tournament” the year and wasn’t in the “first six teams out” because the team “wasn’t very good” and “lost crucial games,” we at The Ave can’t help but imagine what would have happened if our boys had made the Dance. After careful consideration, it seems obvious that this team, arguably the third best in NU history (!), would be in the Final Four right now. Here’s how it would happen:

Game 1: Northwestern over Brigham Young
For argument’s sake we’ll pretend that the ‘Cats would have been one of the last four teams selected for the tourney, and thus forced to partake in a play-in game to make the field of 64. NU probably would have taken Iona’s place as a 14 seed (Gaels? Or GIRLS, ya dig?!), so we’ll pit Northwestern against BYU in this First Four matchup.

The ‘Cats at first seemed overmatched.  BYU won 26 games this year, features the skills of Brandon Davies, and has four players who averaged 10 or more points. NU would certainly lose this game against a skilled opponent. However, NU has one option at its disposal that the Cougz can’t match: the ability to twist a calendar. Start school on September 28th? Why not! Return from Winter Break the day after New Year’s? Easy! Finish finals in the middle of fucking summer? SOUNDS LIKE A PLAN. The ‘Cats easily change the tournament schedule to put this game on a Sunday. BYU, for religious reasons, does not play games on Sundays and is forced to forfeit (#MormonProblems). And just like that, NU is in the field of 64 and set for a second round matchup with Marquette!

Game 2: Northwestern over Marquette
Now I know it may seem as if Marquette is more talented than the BYU team that NU slipped by on a technicality. And it’s true! Marquette cruised through the Big East with 14 league wins and has tremendous talent in Darius Johnson-Odom and Jae Crowder. But do they call this March Monotony?* March Meh? March Mellow?! MARCH MENOPAUSE?! NO. It’s March Madness and anything can happen!

This is the time when Norfolk State figures out Mizzou doesn’t have a defense. The time when Bryce Drew can slide across the floor without ripping his skin off. The time when the transitive property should probably be considered as a rule of law and since Northwestern beat LSU and LSU beat Marquette then haha we win so go home and cry about it Marquette cause NU is going to the Round of 32 HEHEHEHE!

The Monstars were Carmody's backup choice.

Game 3: Northwestern over Murray State
This may be the ‘Cats biggest hurdle to date. NU has historically struggled against teams that are good at winning basketball games, and Murray State won 31 of them this year. NU falls behind early in this one, largely because Murray State appears to be faster, better coached, and more skilled than the ‘Cats. Northwestern had hoped to save their secret weapon for later in the tourney, but down 48-2 after just a minute and a half of play, they have no choice but to bring in Northwestern University President and Professional Crocodile Wrestler Morton Schapiro. Morty scores eleventy-seven-trillion points, blocks all of the shots, and grabs all of the rebounds before being ejected for “excessive girth.”

The ‘Cats return to their impotent ways without Morty in the lineup, but the clock works in their favor as they hold on to win eleventy-seven-trillion-plus-two to eleventy-seven-trillion-plus-one. And it’s on to the Sweet Sixteen!

Game 4: Northwestern over Florida
Florida, recognizing the danger posed by a hot Northwestern team (and we aren’t just talking about those four foot tall Nick Freundt heads), opts to bring in their own secret weapon: Tim Tebow. However, the plan goes awry with the realization that the two days Tebow has spent in New York since his trade to the Jets has completely corrupted him. Lil Timmy shows up tweaking on meth with a high-class escort on one arm and a hooker on the other**. His stunning turn to a life of sin appears to have zapped all his magic John 3:16 powers and he is completely ineffective.

The ‘Cats are similarly incompetent and the game seems destined for a 0-0 tie, until Tebow is called for a technical after he strips down nekked and runs around screaming and masturbating. John Shurna sinks the two free throws and NU takes the game. In a controversial move, Tebow is then put down by Pat Robertson. #YOLO

It got in the hole!

Game 5: Northwestern over Louisville
As the game nears tipoff, Louisville towers over Northwestern. The ‘Cats shrink in fear, awaiting a fate more painful than an Orgo midterm. Then suddenly, an idea pops into Reggie Hearn’s head; just moments before the game, he grabs a mic out of Erin Andrews’ sultry hands and announces to the world that he’s been carrying on an affair with Louisville coach Rick Pitino. Pitino, already frail from years of similar and incredibly accurate accusations, breaks down crying. He demands his whole team come give him a hug then runs away.

With no coach, Louisville struggles to stand up and breathe. Given literally hundreds of chances at an open layup, Luka Mirkovic sinks one at the buzzer for another 2-0 victory. With his bucket, the ‘Cats are into the Final Four!

I know you may be wondering what would happen to NU in the Final Four, but Sherman Ave deals exclusively with the facts and those games simply have not been played yet in the parallel universe I’ve described. To try to predict them would be absurd to say the least. Let’s try to stay grounded here, k? Great. Now go watch all the porn you can before President Santorum takes it all for himself.

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*Hat tip to that weird Greg Anthony commercial for something that I don’t remember
**For those of you who don’t follow New York politics: A high-class escort is a prostitute for rich and important people, while a hooker is a prostitute for the rest of us. Since Tebow is apparently rich and important it makes sense he has an escort, but since he isn’t actually much better at football than the rest of us I think he was required by law to get a hooker too. Damn Obamacare.

UPDATED: How to Watch the Super Bowl

5 Feb

Act confused when informed that no team from New York is in the game.

The Game is here! After weeks of buildup and waiting, it’s finally time for the NFL Championship Super Bowl of Championshipness to Decide It All. You probably have some friends who are fans of either the New York Giants Baltimore Ravens or the New England Patriots San Francisco 49ers (those are the teams playing in it, ok?). And there’s a pretty good chance you’ll watch it with some people who are quite emotionally invested in this particular football pigskin gridiron matchup showdown game.

So, in our continuing series of helpful tips, we at The Ave want to offer a few suggestions on how to be as heinous as possible during any Super Bowl party:

• Wear the jersey of a team that isn’t playing and bring an #Occupy sign and rant about how unfair it is that 1% of the teams get 99% of the Super Bowl. Spout various anti-elite slogans, set up a tent, and grossly overstay your welcome.

• Ask loudly and repeatedly when the Puppy Bowl is on. Scoff loudly if anyone informs you that you’re at a Super Bowl party and proceed to attempt to take bets on which puppy will poop first.

• If the host asked everyone to bring a snack to share, make sure to bring plain pita chips with no hummus or dip. Proudly offer them up to replace the main meal and announce that you read on the Internet that pita chips are great for your colon. If anyone goes for normal, good-tasting chips you must glare at them and ask if they even care about their colon health.

• Declare repeatedly that you’re pretty sure the coin toss decides the whole game. Keep asking who won the coin toss and alternatively celebrate or start crying when you’re told.

Be sure to dress appropriately!

• Come absurdly prepared with stats, charts and play breakdowns. Repeatedly pause the game to show everyone what just happened and why it should have been anticipated by the defense. Act like this doesn’t make you the single worst human being ever.

• Complain that the halftime show isn’t gaudy enough. Demand more fireworks.

• At halftime, recoil in horror when Madonna start screaming and peeing with joy when Beyonce comes out. Ask if she’s a real human being or if this means “they have finally arrived.” this is the second coming. Weep openly.

• Attempt to start a debate about whether the two-minute warning should be introduced at the college level. Tell everyone what a difference it would make and unironically declare that Oklahoma would be national champs if there was a two minute warning. Use that as your sole piece of evidence.

• Tell everyone about every single bet you’ve made on the game a minimum of three times. Shout with disproportionate anger or joy every time you lose or win a bet. Try to get everyone else to cheer with you. Call it your DM fundraiser and accuse anyone not cheering of hating kids with cancer.

• If the game is close in the last two minutes, feverishly attempt to convince everyone to pause the game so you can watch the latest episode of Alcatraz Catfish. If they resist tell them they just don’t understand good television and laugh condescendingly.

• Get way drunker than everyone else and belt out every patriotic song you can think of for the entirety of the third quarter.*

• When the game is over, refuse to watch the trophy presentation because the trophy is named after Vince Lombardi and the Packers suck.

• Study for your Consumer Insight midterm for the entire game. In any quiet moment yell “social comparison involves seeing yourself through the prism of everyone else around you!” and then look around for confirmation. If others seem confused, inform them that your midterm is at 10 a.m. on Monday because your professor is a football terrorist.

Bring enough food for 12.

• Live tweet the entire thing. Tag a famous person in every tweet and act offended when they don’t promptly respond. Read every tweet aloud then ask everyone to check on their phones that the tweet sent. Giggle about every tweet you send.

• UPDATED for 2013: Accuse anyone rooting for the Niners of hating gay people and anyone rooting for the Ravens of being a murderer. Say you only root for the London Sillynannies because you aren’t a xenophobe.

Now, if this doesn’t seem to work you can always just try being a fan of Tim Tebow. That usually annoys people enough and is quite easy, assuming you have no moral compass or sense of goodness in the world.

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*This actually makes you the best person alive.

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.