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Tag Archives: Justin Bieber

Sherman Ave Interviews: Justin Barbin

5 Mar

JBarbz 1If you’ve been to a Northwestern sorority’s formal (ANY sorority), or if you’ve just creepily stalked pictures from any given formal, then you definitely know the name Justin Barbin.  A photographer/entrepreneur/all-around awesome dude, Barbin graduated from Northwestern in 2011, and, after moving back to his hometown of Houston, began to dabble in his longtime hobby of photography.  Flash forward to 3 years later, and Barbin is one of the best-known names at Northwestern – not only for his skills as a photographer, but for his personality, his style, and having a name that is eerily similar to that of Justin Bieber.  Barbin was nice enough to take time out of his very busy schedule to sit down with Sherman Ave travesties Ross Packingham, Prince Giblets, and Felicity Jenkins, and allowed them to ask him a few questions about himself, his passion, and a lot of stupid shit.  Mostly just stupid shit. 

Ross Packingham: So we’ll start with a few questions about your background–

Justin Barbin: Like ethnicity, or…?

Packingham: That isn’t what we had in mind.

Felicity Jenkins: But feel free to answer that as well.

Packingham: So from my understanding, you just popped out of your mother’s womb with a Nikon DSLR in hand.

Barbin: Canon.

Packingham: That’s embarrassing, I didn’t do my research. And there are so many pictures online with the camera. Anyway, is that why she hated you? Continue reading

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We Made These Pledge Mom Week Posters So You Don’t Have To

11 Feb

Pledge Mom Poster 1Pledge Mom Poster 2 Continue reading

Bieber To Invoke “Stand Your Ground” Defense

23 Jan

MIAMI– Explaining that the law provides “blanket immunity for white people,” pop star Justin Bieber announced Thursday that he will use Florida’s “Stand Your Ground Defense” against Continue reading

Happy Chick-Fil-A Day: 3 Things that are Actually Destroying the Sanctity of Marriage in America

1 Aug

Hmmmmm……..

Happy Chick-Fil-A day!

First, I’m going to point out that bitching about how someone’s interpretation of the Bible is wrong isn’t going to change their beliefs. Then I’m going to bitch about anti-gay crusaders’ interpretation of the Bible.

“The sanctity of marriage,” according to my translation of some people’s opinion, is a statement that presumably means that marriage is a Rull Special Thang. By letting just anyone marry, it’s not Rull Special anymore. Okay, got it. But the strategy so far (convert every LGBTQ in America by invalidating their feelings and telling them that they’re aberrations?) hasn’t really worked. If we’re gonna go down the road of preserve-marriage-by-making-it-only-available-to-some, we should bar a few others as well. Or just assassinate them, cause I’d be down with that.

1. Bruno Mars
Finish this sentence:

“It’s a beautiful night. We’re looking for something dumb to do. Hey baby, I think I want to __.”

Get Northwasted with ShermanAviators and attempt to pee on every building on campus while singing an impromptu a capella Katy Perry/Adele mashup? No, I’m sure you’re aware that that’s Ross Packingham’s sole purpose in life. Host a Winnie the Pooh-themed squaredance and kidnap someone’s mom because you want an even number to play Flipcup? No, that doesn’t rhyme. Beat the shit out of a homeless dude? Apparently at least three assholes who need to die painfully are into that, but the author and vessel of these words has a much more sinister plot.  Bruno Mars, who according to a recent poll has swiped the v-cards of 35% of teenage girls during their algebra daydreams,* wants to marry you.

…the fuck??

Look, B-mizzle, your name and your voice sound like they belong to a small ugly dog or a European pseudo-manslut. I’m sick of hearing your song about a completely uneventful day. And the assholes in this world who are offended by two people enjoying one anothers’ penises should really just calm the fuck down and be offended by Bruno Mars instead. This Motherfucker is partaking in the drink of the devil and clearly hasn’t asked her father’s permission. I’d mention that love isn’t exactly a central theme of the song, but the sacred kinds of marriage are apparently built on sanctity and not love, or no one would GAF.

Hell, at least Train was going to wait until he got the nerve to say hello in that café.

Hello Cleaveland!!!

2. Kim Kardashian
I wish that, for every small child that was given a homophobic protest sign by a Bigoted Motherfucker, another small child would be given a sign that said, “For the love of whatever God you believe in, stop media coverage of this woman.” While I congratulate her on having an admirable pair of boobies, only a woman desperate for companionship would marry someone who has the word “hump” in his name. She has also casually tossed the idea around of marrying her current beau, and I am convinced that living with Kanye West would be almost as bad as reading Ross Packingham’s Facebook powertrips.

Look, let’s all just agree that the Kardashian family is a few hookers short of a brothel and one letter short of a really fucked-up set of initials. Now who wants to take bets on when the number of how many weddings she’s had will exceed her bust measurement?

3. Anyone in Las Vegas
Enough said.

 

I will conclude this pathetic rant with the semi-relevant words of Commandant Leo Sextoi: “Bitches be too pretentious and uptight.”

 

There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is heinous. The other is as though everything is heinous.” – Albert Einstein

 

——————————————————————————————————————————
*second only to Justin Bieber, who regularly performs cunnilingus on young women while they avoid focusing on whatever the fuck their stupid English teacher is saying.

An Open Letter to my Unborn Grandson Explaining the Sport of Football

19 Jul

Dear Unborn Grandson,

Still waiting for the Houston Texans’ upcoming “Divisional Round Dubstep.”

If you are reading this now, two things must have happened. Apparently, a) I have lived like I died, drunkenly paddling a canoe in the buff down the Chicago River, and b) President Malia Ann Obama has outlawed the sport of football in our once-proud United States of America. Luckily for you, I predicted that such travesties would happen — mostly because canuding through the poisonous sludge that is the Chicago River while belligerently intoxicated can have adverse effects on your health — but also because the sport of football was pretty damn dangerous. What follows is all the important knowledge you will ever need to know in order to preserve the memory and history of the sport of football and ensure that you never ever fall prey to the allure of its metrosexual European cousin.

You see, Unborn Grandson, football was the greatest sport ever invented. The perfect combination of brawn and strategy and cheerleaders. Good God, don’t ever let us forget the cheerleaders.

Speaking of God, Yahweh fucking loved football. Just fucking loved it. Loved the sport so much that members of both teams would pray to God, asking for strength, fortitude, a sturdy offensive line, and a guaranteed contract plus incentives. God rewarded good Christians who couldn’t throw a spiral with an impregnable defense, while punishing other franchises with the likes of Cade McNown and Rex Grossman.

God loved football because football fucking ruled. In America, pro football was more popular than if Justin Bieber and cholesterol teamed up with all other major sports combined. No other game combined savage violence with cunning tactics and celebration dances quite like it. The game induced grown men in Philadelphia to throw D-batteries at Santa Claus, wear slices of cheese on their heads as they froze their asses off in Wisconsin, and even every once in awhile travel willingly to Detroit (this, after all, was before the city was overtaken by the mole people).

The athletes who played the game were revered as gods among men. If, you know, the gods were really great at running hitch and go routes and sending pictures of their junk to women they weren’t married to. Even the kickers, whose sole purpose in life was to — you guessed it Unborn Grandson — kick a ball still got laid, an impressive feat for somebody like Sebastian Janikowski.

Back before Google installed screens in all of our heads, we used to watch this magical sport from early Fall until February on things called “televisions,” which showed us the game and expert analysis of the game and hot women drinking shitty beer during breaks in the game. Sidenote: One day, Unborn Grandson, you might think that drinking Busch Light is “hip,” and “retro,” and “ironically hilarious,” but let me tell you, it’s not. All of your little hipster friends in the year 2063 might think it’s really cool to ironically drink your old man’s beer while you listen to Skrillex mp3’s and wear skinny jeans or some shit like that, but those kids have no idea how painful these things were at the time. Just be advised that my will specifically strips you of all rights to my Pokemon card collection if you are ever found Tebowing.

But yeah, TV was pretty great for football, and at the very end of the season, America held a special sacred holiday called Super Bowl Sunday. For one day the entire nation turned its eyes on the two best football teams of the year, who tried very hard to win the championship game and the ensuing confetti and the pretty metal trophy and the rights to wear rings the size of diamond-crusted nuva rings and to cry into Chris Berman‘s microphone. Halftime entertainment featured the very best aging classic rock stars had to offer, and even the occasional rogue booby or floating Usher.

The only thing better than professional football was college football. The college game was as passionate as Sicilians, and its governing body was as corrupt as, well, Sicilians. The rivalries were intense, and the pregames before a noon kickoff were unseemly in the best possible way.

Now, I’m sure grandpop’s alma mater has made quite a name for itself in the future, thanks to alumni like Ross Packingham (Beer Pong Olympic goldmedalist, 2024, 2028) and Chet Haze (Bratz 3D, Forrest Gump 2: Gump n Grind), but we were once a pretty respectable football institution too. We’re talking, like, the 7th most feared Big Ten team.

College football had things called “bowl games” instead of the Super Bowl to commemorate the end of its season. It worked kind of like youth soccer, where almost everybody got a trophy. I can still remember the thrill of victory when Northwestern won its first bowl game since the Rose Bowl, defeating the South Dakota State Jackrabbits in one of the most thrilling Overstock.com Money Grab Bowl in years. Those were the days. Half of the school erupted into celebration while patiently explaining to the other half what a first down was.

But I can only assume that the goddamn liberals and the socialists and the gays and the concussed NFL retirees will collude together to pressure President Malia Obama to ban the sport from America altogether in the near future. I cannot express how tragic of a mistake this will be, on par with our future decision to defrost Walt Disney or replace football with children fighting to the death for our entertainment.

Alright, Unborn Grandson, I hope this letter has reached you well. Please understand how important the sport of football was to all Americans, and don’t judge us too harshly for our cultural transgressions during the YOLO era. Things like twitter and Four Loko seemed like pretty great ideas at the time.

Well, that’s about it. I hope things are well in the future for you and your Roomba overlords. Are they still making teenage fiction about vampires? Has Christopher Nolan won an Oscar yet? How does your generation feel about the Black Keys?

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a river to canude down.

Sincerely,
Evander

Furor Scribendi: Zombies, Canadians, Rihanna, and Chet Haze (or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Pretend to be Malcolm Gladwell)

7 Jul

Brother Jürgen Taintsdorf and Evander Jones trade e-mails regarding celebrity, sport, and all things culture.

Evander Jones:
Dear Brother Jürgen,

Took him long enough.

What follows is a pitiful attempt to be either the Bill Simmons to your Malcolm Gladwell or the other way around. If need be, however, I am willing to settle as the Ke$ha to your Flo Rida. Either way I’ll probably come off as a DoucheMcMuffin, even if I edit our email exchanges to make us both look far more witty than our faithful Sherman Ave readers could ever imagine. A tricky task, mind you, as I just kind of assume that all of our readers are beautiful women between the ages of 18 and 27 who harbor a fond appreciation for unreleased Smiths B-sides, The West Wing, and Morty Schapiro to go with their rabid readership of Sherman Ave.

Continue reading

A History of Inflammatory Statements in the United States

13 Nov

There are three things you need to have to be a good President: Personality, cajones of steel, and... Fuck, I forgot

Earlier this week, Republican presidential candidate Rick Perry – in one of the most admirable and laudable acts of public and civic service this nation has ever seen – absolutely ruined his hopes of being elected president. In a GOP debate, Perry was enumerating the three government departments he planned to eliminate when he completely forgot the third department. I mean, there are only fifteen, but he still managed to forget one. Surprisingly enough, though, this is hardly the most self-destructive statement that’s ever been issued by a politician. Here’s a list of some other quotes that shattered the speaker’s future like Justin Bieber’s Christmas album shatters what pitiful traces of good there once were in the universe.

1803, Thomas Jefferson
“Sally Hemmings? No, she’s just a slave. And while I do consider her an important part of my life, I think it’s a stretch to call her ‘First Lady.’ Then again, ‘3/5 lady’ just doesn’t have the same ring.”

1822, James Monroe
“Why yes, I do believe this period can be aptly described as an ‘Era of Good Feelings.’ But when it comes down to it, no good feelings will ever compare to those I experienced during the blumpkin I received last night.”

1848, Elizabeth Cady Stanton (at the Seneca Falls Convention)
“I can in no way deny that this is not the ideal venue for an event of this magnitude. I would’ve looked for a better location, but I was too busy gargling scrotum.”

I just hope they stick that asshole Pickett with an actor like Jeff Daniels

1863, Robert E. Lee (after the Battle of Gettysburg)
“It is my dream that, in one or two hundred years, my actions over the past few days will be portrayed by the ever-mediocre acting skills of Martin Sheen.”

1865, Abraham Lincoln
“Hairspray is sold out?! Drats. In that case, two tickets for My American Cousin.”

1884, Mark Twain
“Hmm. The story of a daring young man travelling down a river with a slave. It’s good, I feel like it just lacks something…aha, I’ve got it! I’ll just throw the n-word in there 215 times!”

1897, William McKinley
“Monocles are in style, right?”

1908, Sacco (to Vanzetti)
“How do you feel about moving to America? I hear there’s a lot of opportunity over there.”

1925, John Scopes
“I’m in Tennessee. Why would I need to teach creationism?”

This cockpit's a little cozy for the two of us.

1934, Franklin D. Roosevelt
“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself. Also, polio. Polio is probably worth some mild trepidation.”

1945, American Military
“We need something that just screams ‘We’re going to bomb you back to the stone age.’ Ooh, I’ve got it! Name it something vaguely questionable but blatantly hilarious. Something like…Enola Gay!”

1961, John F. Kennedy
“We should invade Cuba.”

1969, Neil Armstrong
“That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for the likelihood of me winding up on the Ohio state quarter.”

1975, Richard Nixon
“Okay fine, so I’m a fucking crook.”

While we're at it, do you think you could sell some of these weapons lying around for some extra beer money?

1983, Ronald Reagan
“They would be satellites that defend us from nuclear missiles. Why are you all giving me that look?”

1992, Ross Perot
“I hereby announce that I am running for president in 1992.”

1998, Bill Clinton
“A handjob? Really? We both know you can do better than that.”