The Shoulder Thing

As a member of society with an available soapbox, I feel that it is necessary to warn you of a disgusting phenomenon in our society. This little-known gesture of disdain and douchiness has plagued middle schools for ages, but seeing its use among the heinously classy students of Northwestern brings me to my knees.

It is commonly known as “The Shoulder Thing.”

Imagine, for example, a group of friends have formed a circle. They are having a very deep and intimate conversation in which minds are being enlightened and lives are being changed.

A friend or acquaintance overhears snippet of said conversation and wishes to contribute.

However, the shoulders of persons A and B are too close together, and the new member cannot contribute to the conversation.

This is known as “The Shoulder Thing.”

Persons A and B are Motherfuckers because they can hear their friend knocking on the conversation’s door, politely requesting entry with his presence, and don’t move. Person C is also Motherfucker because he is physically looking into the face of the shunned and doesn’t say anything.

So much douchery is implied, and the Motherfuckers don’t even have the decency to outright shun the outsider. They strand him on the outside, disappointed and confused, like a freshmen girl calling Saferide at 3:27 AM when she finally thinks the line won’t be busy only to find that she’s too late and they’re no longer open, and now she’s either got to ask a frat bro she barely knows to walk her all the way south, go alone and risk running into the Smartphone Pirates, or hook up with a guy to get a place for the night.

Typically, circles of Motherfuckers will simply ignore the presence of the outsider, interrupting his stuttered attempts at contribution as if to say, “You are not worth the time it takes me to listen to your comment. You are not worth a momentary pity nod. However, my comment is incredibly important and significantly more valuable than whatever you are going to say.” Seriously, even Kanye, the most narcissistic of disruptive douchebags, was gonna let Taylor finish. Hell, Kanye even let Taylor start.

Here is an illustration of how to properly do The Shoulder Thing. As demonstrated, Persons A and B angle their shoulders so as to be enlightened by the insightful remark about to be made by their acquaintance.

You and your friends are tight. You are tighter than a hipster’s pants, tighter than a nun’s poontang, tighter than Kate Upton in an A-cup. We get it. The inside jokes are enough to make potential newcomers awkwardly excuse themselves from a conversation with a comment like, “I’ll be over there jerking off in your Apple Jacks, because it’s more visibly appreciative of my input.” You probably don’t like the outsider, or you’d welcome them. But you don’t have to be such a Motherfucker about it.

You must be the heinous you wish to see in the world.

Hate a Random Country: Brazil

Here at Sherman Ave, we take great pride in our irrational xenophobic rants about seemingly random (yet indisputably heinous) nations. But in light of recent events, we have recently come to believe that Brazil is such a flaming conglomeration of fecal matter of a country that it deserves to be called out as the nation of jackasses it really is. Fuck them.

With God on our side, America conquered

For most of the world, the USA-Brazil Women’s World Cup Game on July 10th, 2011 was their first introduction to how abhorrently vile Brazil is as a nation. The play of the women from the Federative Republic of Brazil, the only country that could possibly be worse than a commonwealth comprised solely of FIFA referees, merely typified the country’s flagrantly inferior and odious nature. Instead of simply bowing down to America’s soccer superiority, even despite the USA Women hailing from a country that follows the sport with slightly more interest than the game of sky ball, the Brazilians instead decided to force the Americans to break out their overflowing reserves of defiance and tenacity in order to give the nation the athletic bitch-slapping it deserved.

In one shocking example of Brazil’s proud spirit of douchiness, Brazilian defender Erika faked an injury with only 6 minutes left in extra time, only to spring off her stretcher once a sufficient amount of time had been sapped from the clock and the crowd was sufficiently convinced of the Samba Queens’ astounding bitchiness (also leaving me wondering that if Brazilian women are so good at faking, then how much have all those sexy Brazilian women I’ve been cavorting with really enjoyed my love-making capabilities?). But Karma is even worse of a tramp than Brazil’s Marta, allowing Abby Wambach and Hope Solo to lead the man-down American team in a glorious come back that prevented the South American nation of 190 million wankers from thinking they were any better than the scum of the earth that they are.

The nations inhabitants, fleeing to a better country where they can make a living outside of the oppressive supermodel industry

But as any Brazilian expert knows, the country’s ass-clown nature extends far beyond the soccer pitch. The nation’s flag, featuring a celestial blue orb inside a yellow rhombus inside a green rectangle, totally blows. A South Sudanese child soldier could have designed a better one for his own fledgling nation. Their President, Dilma Rousseff, is a notorious twatmuffin who reminds me of a combination of Casey Anthony and a drilldo. Other notable fuckballs from the country include soccer superstar Ronaldo and dictator Getùlio Vargas, both of whom were pompous douchebags unworthy of the ground they walked on (they also ended sentences in prepositions to showcase their hubris). Even the country’s language displays Brazil’s absurd awfulness, seeing as Portuguese is really more like drunken Spanish than an actual language of its own.

To be fair, Brazil has produced some good in the world. But besides Brazilian waxing and Adriana Lima, I’m kind of drawing blanks. Otherwise, Brazil is nothing more than a country of dickwads determined to ruin the rest of the world and the 2016 Olympic games with their crime, poverty, and Jersey-like levels of shittiness.

UPDATE: We have recently been notified that, besides producing Brazilian waxing and Adriana Lima, Brazil was also responsible for producing the magnificent wonder that is Chenny Ng, hosting Ms. Ng for an important duration of her formative years. Sherman Ave regrets this error, as Chenny is quite possibly one of the greatest humans in the world, and can guarantee that whoever was responsible for this heinous mistake has been punished accordingly.