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Tag Archives: Irish

Bartistics: Quantifying the Best Northwestern Bars

10 Jun
MoonshineGulchSaloon

The next Keg?

Sherman Ave editor Evander Jones teamed up with food blog What I’m Eating for Lunch’s curator Jameson Bulwinkle to provide a comprehensive statistical analysis—or bartistical analysis, if you will—of the Evanston and Chicago bars most frequently frequented by Northwestern undergraduates. But first, an explanation of the bartistical categories analyzed by Evander and Jameson:

Yelp Rating: How many Yelp starts the bar received, out of a maximum potential of five.
Distance from the Arch: As estimated in walking distance by Google Something Maps.
Best Weekly Special: The best available special the bar offers on a day of the week.
VORN: Value Over Replacement Night. This bartistic measures how much more valuable the bar’s weekly special night is compared to a random night at the same bar given the same blood alcohol content. A VORN of 5.4, for instance, means that the bar’s weekly special night is 5.4 times better than a random non-special average night at the same bar.
Food, Ambiance, and Drinks: All subjective scores, out of a maximum of ten points, assigned by Evander and Jameson.
OoS: Odds of Scoring. What is the percentage chance of an average Northwestern student patron hooking up with another patron from the bar?
BPT: Biddies per Townie. What is the ratio of biddies to townies at the bar?
ABP: Average beer price. ABP’s with asterisks are actual average prices, not estimates.

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10 Reasons Why Memorial Day Sucks in New York City

27 May
  1. The world's most bitching location for a cookout.

    The world’s most bitching location for a cookout.

    Tourists. Suck. So. Hard. So yeah, technically I kind of am one since I’m only here for three months on my JR, but I mean is it so hard to not take pictures for three seconds? I’m trying to get drunk here and I swear to god if someone takes another selfie, blinds me with their flash, leaving me to spill my $9 vodka bomb then I will just cut a bitch. Well. Not really. More like cry in frustration.

  2. Everything is full. Hey guys, let’s go grab dinner at that cool little hole in the wall place we noticed for the first time last week. OH WAIT. Everyone and their damn Chihuahua had that idea. Why is that dog sitting in a high-chair? WHO THE HELL KNOWS.
  3. No matter where you go, someone there is funnier and drunker than you are. I like Irish pubs. They’re usually cosy, have lots of beer on tap, and have an old kind of charm. But on Memorial Day Weekend? Well screw me sideways because it looks like the Irish Mob is back out of retirement. Seriously, a friend of mine was called “boyo” like four times in half an hour by the server, who, by the way, brought us twice as many drinks as we asked for, which sounds great until you realize we had to pay for them and had basically no money.
  4. Everyone celebrates it but no one actually cares what we are memorializing. I enjoy drunkenness as much as the next guy, but I will pull a Van Gogh if I have to hear one more person try and toast “Good memories”.[1]
  5. You cannot get away from it. Bar? Memorial Day special. Central Park? Memorial Day gatherings. Movie Theater? THIS MEMORIAL DAY, COME SEE FAST AND FURIOUS 6. It’s endless and god help me why.
  6. Everyone is drinking. It’s great, so many drunk people around and bars are packed. Wait, this sounds like a good thing? Man I suck at this! Anyway, yeah, in reality Memorial Day has some shitty stuff in New York, but it also has redeeming factors. I’m going to go out drinking, so, uh, if you could just imagine I finished this article that’d be great.

Editor’s Note: Sherman Ave supports the troops.


[1] No I’m not joking, it was like four teenage girls and their one token dude friend who had no idea why he had agreed to go, then realized it was because he wanted to bang that one chick who was totally into him but just didn’t know it.

The Road Not Taken: Other possible directions for One Direction

20 Apr

This is an insult to America and hoodies everywhere.

We all thought that the era of the boy band was over once New Kids on the Block released this soul-crushing monster of a video. After NKOTB, like many other depressing vestiges of our diaper years, started trying to capitalize on their adolescent success by filming yucky middle-aged versions of themselves hitting on scantily clad women in the early stages of a trophy wife wrinkly-tan, it seemed that the final page of the horrendous pulpy magazine of Boy Band Lore had finally been turned. I mean, no one likes greasy old men without recognizable talent (at least, no one without clinically diagnosable issues).

So the dust had nearly settled on the era of the Boy Band. For a few years there, I could’ve believed in Markwell (ohwaitnoicouldntomgwtfishedoing). One of the three genres of music that I absolutely hate had finally been starved of any sort of positive attention and seemed to be crumbling into a well-deserved oblivion.

BUT THEN.

THIS BULLSHIT.

One Direction is, inexplicably, making Boy Bands a thing again. I picture Dr. Frankenstein reinvigorating the entire sorry cadre of N*Sync (minus JT, who miraculously avoided death by bringing SexyBack) with a single jolt of candy-colored lightning from The Sky, aka the UK version of X-Factor. The “Igor” in this metaphor is some stupid fucking preteen who stopped vigorously masturbating to an Edward Cullen-inspired fantasy fiction blog for long enough to watch a YouTube clip her British cyberpal sent her.

Walking the red carpet to Douche Convention 2K12

So Who the fuck Is One Direction? You may be wondering, if you’re the type of person who has been living in a happy fantasyland matrix where Fleet Foxes string flowers and prayer flags across Pitchfork, Of Monsters and Men’s album has finally broken the top ten, and The boner-worthy Lollapalooza lineup is getting the acclaim that it deserves.

Until a few days ago, I was that person – a blissfully unaware hipster, tuned into my own Spotify and out of the pop culture loop. Now I’m Morpheus. And now that you’re reading this wake-up call you’re Neo.  And since we’re not in the Matrix anymore but rather in a media-saturated music-less wasteland, you should probably wake the fuck up.

One Direction is a British-Irish Boy Band that will probably dominate the cover of TigerBeat and consume the sexual fantasies of the “prepubescent girls with braces” demographic for the next few years. And they are SELLING MORE ALBUMS THAN MOST OTHER ONES RIGHT NOW. This is a travesty that must be halted. The UK has come up with a lot of good things – the Beatles, divorce, and Shakespeare come to mind – and a lot of bad things, like food made out of unappetizing organs and those curly wigs that judges wear. One Direction belongs to the latter category and must be stopped. How to stop them short of methods that would warrant my arrest, dear reader, is a mystery to me. In lieu of multiple-count homicide, I’ve brainstormed a short list of the “directions” I’d like One Direction to take. These choices all constitute satisfying ends for the band, namely, out of my radar, but remember: ultimately, there can only be One Direction for these pseudo-musical turds. Choose wisely.

Possible Direction 1: Into Japan
You may have heard the phrase “I’m big in Japan” from a witty friend as a sort of self-deprecating joke. Or maybe I’m weird and it’s more of an esoteric Tom Waits reference than anything else (THERE’S A T-SHIRT THOUGH GUYS IT’S TOTALLY A THING). Either way, the phrase references the fact that no one really knows what’s going on there, so if you’re big in Japan it doesn’t really matter to people in the USA. Mostly because we’re egocentric assholes, but also because styles like this one are big in Japan and, despite all of her efforts, Snooki hasn’t really reached that level yet. Plus, Japan is an island. And it has way too many people on it. If One Direction isn’t trampled in a freak-Tokyo-subway accident or killed in a haunted house a la The Grudge, at least its members will blend into the crowd of short skinny people in candy-colored clothing. Even if they don’t blend in, they’ll be Big in Japan – and therefore small in every other sense. Lolz.

Possible Direction 2: Down The Mariana Trench
At 6.78 miles below sea level, The Mariana Trench is the deepest place in the world. Nothing lives down there, especially melodic mediocrity and eunuchs with soft hands. I mean, there’s 15,570 pounds per square inch of pressure down in ol’ Mariana – that’s about 50 jumbo jets on the average-sized person, 100 on fatass Rush Limbaugh. The skinny little pricks that comprise One Direction would be boy pancakes. As pancakes, their stupid fucking vocal cords, shiny hairdos, and winning smiles would be incapable of making Simon Cowell gloat anymore. Just like their voices pre-autotune, the boyz of One Direction would be utterly, incomprehensibly flat.

Glad the puppies made it through Satan's anus alright.

Possible Direction 3: Through Satan’s Rectum
Does this last one really require an explanation? Although I am a pretty committed atheist, a girl can dream. And I dream of the possibility of One Direction’s ending as a piece of excrement being pushed through the colon of the Supreme Evil Being. You could say I’m a sentimental gal, I guess 😉

In sum: One Direction is pissing on music more blatantly than Brother Jürgen Taintsdorf pisses on the steps of tech after fratting it up on Friday nights. Heinousness to the heinous power.

Culinary Dorm Corner: Cocktails!!!!!!

19 Mar

How else are we supposed to get our daily fruit requirement?

NOTICE: Just as the Evanston City Council assumes that all Twitter accounts are real, here at Sherman Ave we assume that all of our readers are responsible drinkers who are of legal age.

So in true Sherman Ave fashion, I’m writing this article as I’m five standard drinks in on St. Patrick’s day, which I think everyone can agree is the most heinous of holidays. Or rather, Alco-holidays. Let’s be real, I’m a drunk mess right now. I’m listening to Adele on full volume while I chug hard cider.

Did I mention I’m a ¼ Irish? No? Well, that and the 3/8 Mexican should be swag enough for me to get drunk any day of the week, you judgmental fucks.

Anyway, You wanna make some tasty c*cktails, eh? (are we Canadian now? Idk, bro)

So LET’S GET STARTED:

APPLE FUCKING PIE A LA MODE SHOOTER
This shit is so good. In the span of 24 hours I’ve made about 4 or 5, and consumed two myself. Regrets? NONE. This tasty little bitch will go down smoother than that Senior frat boy last Saturday.

½ shot apple pie liqueur (EV1 carries a brand called Anthony’s Own. It’s $16.99 a bottle, 25% alc. By volume. QUALITY PURCHASE FOLKS)
½ shot baily’s irish cream. (DOES IT MATTER HOW MUCH THIS COSTS? THIS IS GLORY IN A BOTTLE. I DRINK THIS LIKE WATER DAILY.)
Dash of cinnamon. (BECAUSE WE GET FANCY)

Try to throw it back because even though the liqueur is sweet, you don’t want the alcohol to curdle the cream.

Ruin yet another childhood memory with alcohol!

CIDER SLING
Typically a sling is citrus based, but the tartness of granny smith apple cider will totally suffice, especially if you use the gin I recommend because it doesn’t have a juniper berry base, which makes most gins spicier/more bitter.

½ shot New Amsterdam gin, or other gin if you like sticking it to the man (ME)
1 shot apple/apple pie liqueur
6 oz (half bottle) hard cider (I like Kelly’s a lot, but Woodchuck is sold by EV1, so it’s what I’m using)
1 or 2 oz ginger ale

This shit is a good drink if you want to get drunk but don’t want to be forced into getting a new drink every second. It’s tasty, it’s apple-y and that’s all that counts for me right now. I AM DRINKING ONE OF THESE RIGHT NOW, THAT SHOULD TELL YOU HOW GOOD IT IS.

CHERRY WHISKEY
I don’t even know if there’s some nasty cherry whiskey out there, considering we’ve got cherry liqueur, brandy, vodka, etc, but this’ll fit the bill and go down really smooth. Enough of these and you’ll break whatever holiday it is. Believe me, Sherman Ave broke MLK Day on these.

1 shot of HONEY whiskey (it has to be honey, and I prefer Jack Daniels)
Splash of gold rum
2 maraschino cherries
A bigger splash of the juice from the cherry jar
5 to 6 oz. coke

Be careful with these, please. The last time I imbibed these bad boys my roommate was not happy with their contents being deposited on my bed while I slept on the floor. Then I stole a friend’s camera and had an 11 image photo shoot by myself with a fire extinguisher. This shit is dangerous.

Goes great with skiing, family vacations, and the existential coldness of winter quarter.

CHOCOLATE SURPRISE
The surprise is how drunk you get, you fuck. HAPPY HOLIDAYS? Anyway, this is gonna be a great thing to sip on and get progressively more slutty. I hold no responsibility for your hookups.

1 shot crème de cacao
1 shot bailey’s
1 shot Kahlua
5 oz. rosemary simple syrup (boil 1 cup sugar and 1 cup water, take off heat and throw in a bunch of rosemary and let cool. Take out rosemary and then voila! syrup)
1 shot cream/whole milk.

Pour this over ice. Nothing is better than this, I swear. I’m sorry I can type so well when I’m drunk guys, but really. I made this based on an ice cream flavor at the Bent Spoon in Princeton, NJ, and that shit was really tasty so yeah… This happened.

ANYWAY, I hope you guys enjoy these drinks. Please for the love of all that is holy, do NOT do all of these drinks at once, because you’ll will end up flatter than a opossum crossing I-95. #southernjoke. OH WELL. HAPPY SPRING BREAK!

5 Ways to Cope With the Heat

23 Jul

Balls all over, is it hot outside or is it hot outside?! It’s a sad day when a mere 10-minute walk turns into a Hero’s Journey-esque adventure in which one must face great adversity and discover their true self. With this weather, the immediate instinct is to spend every day standing naked in front of your $15 air conditioning unit, but unfortunately, summer is also the time to have fun. Fear not! We have compiled a list of ways you can bypass the heat and still enjoy the season.

Java the Hut knew what's up

5. Invest in Slaves
Obviously the word “slave” has acquired somewhat of a stigma in the last few hundred years, but trust me, you will not regret this decision. Whether it’s getting your groceries or carrying you to a friend’s place, it will be exceptionally relieving to have your daily menial tasks performed by others. Worried about being controversial? There are still ways to be a slave-owner. For example, most college students are willing to enter in a contract of servitude, asking for nothing but free alcohol. Furthermore, your neighbors wouldn’t ever be suspicious of forced labor – they’d just assume you were getting a lot of action. If you can’t catch yourself a college student, try a younger child. Granted, child slavery is discouraged in many social circles, but the best part of slave children is that they’re your slaves and your children, and thankfully, our society rarely protects children from their parents.

Caution: Some drinks will make you look like a massive pansy

4. Drink
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my freshman year of college, it’s that drinking solves everything – macroeconomics finals notwithstanding. Russians notoriously consume copious quantities of vodka to cope with their frigid climate, so why can’t we do the same for our scorching climate? Worst case scenario, you drink yourself unconscious and earn yourself a trip to the cool, air-conditioned emergency room. Besides, if you drink enough, you can take the heat on headfirst and emerge victorious. The doucheriffic Heat Lords think they’ve got you beat, but they won’t know what hit them when you and your friends spontaneously skip to Burger King despite the outrageous temperatures. In this case, it’s about more than just surviving the heat, it’s about vanquishing it. If you’re looking for more pointers in this area, I’d consult the Dallas Mavericks; they know a thing or two about making the Heat their bitch.

Watch out for the Comm Majors

3. Skinny Dip
In most cases, the feeling of ice-cold water on the genitals is something that can only be likened to the Dementor’s Kiss. However, desperate times call for desperate measures, and desperate measures call for pelvic coolage (surprisingly not the long-lost brother of our 30th president). So next time you want to take a shower, kick it up a notch and go balls-deep in Lake Michigan. Don’t live near Lake Michigan? Not a problem, just go balls-deep in the nearest body of water. Caution to our readers in South America: If you choose to skinny-dip in the Amazon, for the love of God, be careful. Just be careful. Dear mother of God. Don’t urinate. Just don’t do it. Think of the children. No level of heat is worth sacrificing your junction (junk’s function). I don’t even want something of that horrific magnitude to happen to those taint-lovers in Brazil and Uruguay.

We hear she also has a thing for bloggers

2. Stalk Attractive People
For registered sex offenders like myself, the last few months have been absolutely clutch in that they have uncovered some of the world’s most attractive people. Think about it – a mere 6 months ago, the world was unaware of stunning babes like Pippa Middleton, Hope Solo, Casey Anthony Michele Bachmann Rebecca Black and anyone else who plays on the U.S. Women’s Soccer team. What better way to spend your summer than lounging in an air-conditioned place and learning every minute detail about the lives of these slampieces? For example, I have learned this summer that Pippa Middleton has admitted to being attracted to average-looking half-Jewish left-handed kids from Colorado – a category in which I fit into quite nicely. See, these are good things to know. You may call me things like “weirdo” and “rapist,” but…well never mind, you’ve got a point.

We're also pretty sure that this little bastard is responsible for U.S. Debt and ever single Haitian natural disaster

1. Blame Minorities for the Heat
As has been proven time and again throughout the annals of history, the best way to resolve any problem is by making it someone else’s problem. And the best part of this tactic is that any minority can work! Responsibility for any unfavorable happening is always easily placed on the backs of the Irish, Germans, Irish, Italians, Canadians, Irish, Latvians, or even the Irish. It may not lower the temperatures, but it certainly makes it easier to cope with when you can just angrily shout something like “GOD DAMN NEW ZEALANDERS MAKING EVERYTHING SO DAMN HOT!” Actively discriminating against said minority would be even more satisfying, but since it’s so stupidly hot outside, discrimination might tire you. However, if you heeded my first piece of advice, you should already have a whole army of slaves to go discriminate against minorities on your behalf.