EVANSTON, Il – At 11:37 AM this morning on CollegiateACB, SororityChick69 released the official social rankings of NU’s IFC fraternities. Her announcement falls in the wake of intense deliberation and debate throughout the past year on the site’s comment threads. After refusing an in-person interview, SororityChick69 agreed to speak with Sherman Ave on the phone.
“Deciding who is top tier this year was the hardest Continue reading
EVANSTON, Ill.–In an embarrassing turn of events, a chapter within the Northwestern Greek life community—they have requested to remain anonymous—has admitted the door to a local freezer in an attempt to honor the age-old chill-to-pull system that has been a doctrine of fraternity culture since its invention in the early 20th century.
You can be one them!
Unaffiliated gentlemen, it’s once again the most wonderful time of the year: Frat rush. Despite what CollegeACB may say, we are totally not dirty geeds over here at The Ave. We are completely down with the T-F-M, and we’d like to use that knowledge to help you out as you attempt to get the biddiest of bids from the housiest of houses: Continue reading
1. John Smith?
You know his face because he’s always around. He also calls you by name, asks you how you are and how that history test went the other day. You can’t be totally sure, but you may have met him during Welcome Week freshman year. Just smile and nod when he approaches because let’s be honest you don’t know his name. Was it John? Matthew? Mark? Maybe Luke? Okay now you’re just naming biblical figures. Just smile and nod.
Him? Who?
Part 1 of A Wildly Inaccurate Biography of Mayor Elizabeth Tisdahl
In the summer of 1962, a young man named Willie walks out of a liquor store carrying two cases of Bud Light and a handle of Congress vodka. He struggles under the weight of his purchases, lumbering uneasily toward a purple and white Chevy Impala parked 30 feet from the clear glass doors.
After depositing his booze in the trunk, being sure to bring five cans of beer up to the front seat with him, he slides the key into the ignition. The engine sputters for a moment and then roars to life. Willie wastes no time in speeding out into the cool night air, shotgunning a can of beer all the while.
Deering Forum
So you’ve been accepted to Northwestern. Big fucking deal. So was just about everyone who writes for Sherman Ave AND Chet Haze (who may or may not also write for Sherman Ave). You have accomplished nothing of any difficulty and importance, and this school will spend the next four years reminding you of that fact. So now that you have a little perspective, it’s time to get you prepped on everything you’ll need to know to survive the gauntlet of purple and white!
Soon, the Daily Northwestern, NBN, your parents, and dozens of other sources will be filling you in on the best dining halls, the characteristics of the two sides of campus and what the party scene is like. Even The Flipside will take the opportunity to desperately grasp at readership by printing freshman-oriented pieces.
Since old Uncle Samwise can’t do a better job than the rest at giving you everything you’ll need to know, I’ll have to settle for giving everything else you’ll need to know.
Not listed: That Guy.
The Walking College Stereotype
Every sitcom and movie involving college students likes to portray them as rigidly focused students looking for their way in life during the day, and uncontrollable party animals at night. On Wednesday days at 3 A.M., they’re at the library struggling to stay awake – and on Saturday nights they’re at the bar struggling to stay standing. They’ll pull at least two all-nighters every week, eat ramen or fast food for every lunch and dinner, and get blackout drunk every weekend. Some people are like this for the first couple weeks of their freshman year – and others are this person for the entirety of their college lives; however, one thing is certain: you will come across someone like this at some point in college.
Mr. or Mrs. Pre-Professional
This person is always working towards some goal that they had in their childhood. They’re in the pre-med class, the pre-med fraternity, the pre-med club, and even the pre-med field hockey team. It’s impossible to talk to this person without eventually hearing “When I’m a doctor,” or “When I’m at Harvard Law.” The entirety of their life revolves around their future, and they won’t let you forget it.
The Latest In Rape Prevention: Vagina Dentata
It has come to my attention, with the opening of CARE and tonight’s Take Back the Night event, that there are some men in this world who still do not realize that their pee-pees are not always welcome in our jay-jays[1].
Thankfully, most people will never understand the logic behind this phenomenon. Evolutionary and biological psychology holds that men generally have a higher sex drive because men take quantity of genes spread over quality of genes spread. In other words, they argue that the more “naval troops” a man sends to occupy Vagistan, the more likely it is that his genes will be passed on, whereas women are more careful with what they fuck because we don’t want to waste nine months lugging moron genes around in our uteruses (uteri?). There’s also the “rape myth” (women actually want it and will enjoy it, they’re just playing hard-to-get), and the idea that sexual violence is more about a drive for power than a drive to bump uglies. Don’t ask me why rape happens; I’m not touching that can of worms. Whatever the reason is, men continue to force sex upon women despite years of repeated nagging, which goes to show us that nagging does not work, and it’s time to change evolutionary biology.
Women should evolve vagina teeth.
Ladies, doesn’t it suck to feel powerless against potential rapists after dark in the quad, dressed in a short skirt and fishnets? Do you glare at the strapping young lads passing you by to let them know you’re not only aware of your surroundings but really, really scary? Have you ever actually tried using that mace? Cause I haven’t needed to (the glare must have worked), but in the case of an actual emergency I want to have a weapon that doesn’t require skill, and aiming is hard. Solution? Canines in the vagines.
This is not a new idea. It has appeared in many a lunchtime conversation during my high school days. And according to Wikipedia, “folk stories are frequently told as cautionary tales warning of the dangers of sex with strange women, to discourage rape, and around campfires at Boy Scout outings in an attempt to incentivize good Christian abstinence,” so apparently someone has thought of this before me. Let me clarify: I’m not advocating an end to hookups. God no. They’re all we have left at Northwestern to convince us that we’ll be sexually acceptable in the real world. I’m advocating a built-in trump card. Think about it: the ability to castrate men if they insert themselves into unwanted places will make assholes less free with their willies.
And you know what else? It will be very difficult in most cases for a man to argue that she was “asking for it,” or for a woman to argue that she was raped when she wasn’t. If that lady doesn’t want the cucumber in her baby kitchen, there’s gonna be a very finely sliced cucumber to show for it. This will eliminate a large amount of ambiguity in the legal system. In fact, I’d like us all to close our eyes and imagine the judicial trials of potential rapists. “Is the defendant’s quiverbone still attached?” “Only some of it, your honor.” “Then she probably didn’t want it in her coochie-snorcher. Case closed.”
I’m not really sure how we’re going to evolve this. Maybe we can invest in some vagina dentures for high-risk women or something, and the rest of our vaginas will catch on that this is a good idea. Our copycat reproductive systems seem to collectively believe that aligning our periods with our roommates and best friends is a fucking brilliant idea, so it shouldn’t take too long to catch on. “Oh, there’s blood coming out of your vagina? I want some too!” Fuck you and your weird habits, genitalia.
I’m also not sure what medical care our nether pearly whites will need…toothbrushes? We’ll see. Til then, the mace, prayer, and angry glare are going to have to suffice.
[1] Disclaimer: A friend of mine has noted that the majority of Northwestern frat boys she has hooked up with will immediately freak the fuck out and back away at least three feet in terror if a chick tells them “no” in the bedroom. To those: thank you. Your mommas taught you well.
Life isn’t really that interesting in the dining halls at Northwestern. Sometimes you just need to grab it by the lady balls and find your own way to make it interesting. How can you do that, one may ask? Well let this Professor school you, motherfucker.
It can also double as a bludgeon
So here’s how you wrangle this beast:
You walk into the freaking dining hall WITH YOUR ID ALREADY OUT SO YOU DON’T HOLD UP THE LINE LIKE IT’S AN AIRPORT. Then you walk over to the main entrée station and grab a plate. Does that vegan sloppy joe station look good? NEVER. NOT NEXT TO A WAFFLE! Walk over to the waffle thing. Grab a cup o’ dat sweet sourdough batter shit. Pour it onto the waffle iron that could inevitably lead to several clumsily self-inflicted wounds and pour that deliciousness all up on that inefficient grid pattern. Follow the directions. That is, turn it a 180-degree spin and wait for the bell. Spin it back around and take the waffle off and put it on your plate. Now the fun begins.
What are you gonna do with that hot sexy waffle tantalizing you with its butter legs open and its square holes unfilled? Points for the extreme sexual innuendo? Only in my kitchen, bitches.
This is true art
Happy Eating!
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.
Sherman Ave 