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Tag Archives: Katy Perry

The Onion Definitely Has A Record Label, And So Far Nobody’s Laughing

10 Sep

The Onion, everyone’s second favorite satirical news organization, has branched into the music industry with its own record label.

I just can’t prove it.

Not long ago, I would’ve thought this diversification was preposterous. It seemed inevitable that all record labels were going the way of dinosaurs and dodos, and no one, not even The Onion, wanted any part of it. Now, however, it seems the music industry has finally realized just how drastically it must adapt in order to survive. This is where the good people at The Onion stepped in with all of their trademark, Puck-like mischief.

The first piece of evidence that led to this conclusion was the release of Continue reading

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The Perfect Shower Beer Playlist

9 Nov

It’s a Wednesday night, you got a 31 on your midterm, and you just remembered that your landlord pays your water bill. Sounds like it’s time for a shower beer! If you haven’t been introduced to the joys of a cold beer in a hot, steamy shower yet, have no fear! I’ll walk you through it. But before you get all lathered up, there are three things you’ll need:

1. Beer. Although shot gunning a can of Busch Light may be a great way to impress the ladiez, it isn’t a shower beer. Try something that doesn’t taste like piss water.

2. A place to put your beer to keep it shampoo-free.

Holds your beer, so you don’t have to!

3. This playlist*

LMFAO – Sexy And I Know It

Who doesn’t feel sexy dripping wet and slightly buzzed? It’s time to DANCE!**

Adele – Someone Like You

Use any excuse to belt this song at the top of your lungs. Plus, the acoustics in the bathroom are pretty great

OutKast – Hey Ya

Throwbacks are 259% better while drunk. So are emotional rollercoasters brought on by listening to this immediately after Adele.

Taylor Swift – We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together

Remember that emotional rollercoaster I was talking about?

Macklemore – Thrift Shop

So I’m a little obsessed with this song right now (who isn’t?) and it gives me an excuse to practice my sexy bass singing voice (I don’t care if biology says girls can’t sing that low, someday I will sing bass!)

Miley Cyrus – Party in the USA

No playlist is complete without a song about America. And this one is just so damn catchy…

Rose Royce – Car Wash

Car wash, face wash…same thing

Katy Perry – Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.)

The perfect combination of funny and sexy: you can sing the words you know and dance to the ones you don’t.

Carly Rae Jepsen – Call Me Maybe

Everyone else may be sick of this song, but I know all the words, and I love singing it in the shower. Pro tip: beer bottles make excellent microphones.

The Police – Roxanne

You know the game where half the room drinks every time they say “Roxanne” and the other half drinks whenever they say “put on the red light”? This is the same, except you are both teams. If you haven’t finished your beer yet (it’s OK if it’s your second…or fourth), bottoms up!

That’s it! Now go grab a PBR and some coconut body wash.

-Tabitha McHunter

*This is by no means a good combination of songs and should not be taken as such

**Sherman Ave is not responsible for any injuries incurred while dancing in the shower.

3 Stellar Halloween Costume Ideas

22 Oct

Personal favorite: Slutty Abe Lincoln

Warning: Sherman Ave does not condone or endorse the use of any of the costumes. Not a single one. Seriously guys.

So you need a brilliant costume idea for Halloween this year and you are completely out of ideas? No worries! Here at Sherman Ave, we are more than happy to put our minds and nimble fingers of Eleanor Kinkervoss (our resident Martha Stewart, tbh) to work to create stunning garbs of Samhain delight!

1. The Race Controversy
Simply don a sombrero, blackface, or a kimono and walk around with a peace pipe (of “tobacco” of course) and greeting people with a booming “HOW!” Also constantly be at war with the white person inside of you and try to oppress each part of your costume by yelling slurs at yourself. Points if you can hit more ethnic pejoratives than all of Ryan Murphy’s shows combined.

2. The Keg
Fashion a single-person tent into a poncho type shroud supported by your shoulders and let any girl obviously younger than 21 enter the tent through the flap in the back of the tent. Carry a 30-rack of any cheap beer and give one to any person able to jump over you when you sit down.

3. Sherman Ave (alone or group costume)
Gather as many friends as you can to pregame the festivities with a tons of Keystone Light and cheap vodka while screaming Katy Perry and Adele songs. One or two of you can also mime masturbating to Pippa Middleton’s visage and the others can all blackout in Fran’s.

Alternatively, you could just go as a slutty rabbit or dead football player like every character in every fucking teen movie ever. Have fun!

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.

50 Shades of Purple, Chapter Two: The Battle for the Keg

10 Jul

“At first I was like, ‘You know, it might not be such a great idea to go skinny dipping in the Amazon with a bottle of Patron and the entire San Diego Chargers Charger Girls squad,’ but then I was just like, ‘YOLO.'”
-Morton O. Schapiro

Don’t worry, the sex scene’s coming soon.

It’s a Monday evening, and my roommates are pregaming the pregame for the Keg. I’ve had a pretty stressful day in Journalism 301, filled with lots of hard-hitting pestering of innocent yuppies reporting for my enterprise story, and it’s time for me to kick back and relax. I pop a bottle of Peach Andre and my night has begun.

“How was your interview with Ross Packingham?” asks Beverly Brooke, my roommate and consummate frenemy.

“Intriguing. There’s something secretive about him that I can’t figure out. Is it true he once had a threesome with a Theta and Willie the Wildcat in the library stacks?”

“I heard it was with Stephen Colbert and two theater majors on South Beach while Andrew Bird played in the background,” Beave answers, “But that’s just what I read once on College ACB.”

We finish off our bottles of Andre while watching Say Yes to the Dress and head over to Alpha Delta for the true pregame. The second we step into the basement, our senses are assaulted by skunked beer, bros in tank-tops, and Katy Perry. Lots of Katy Perry.

“WOOOOOOOOOO” shouts Beave as “Teenage Dream” comes on, and immediately begs a frat brother who looks suspiciously similar to an Asian Nic Cage (and almost as belligerent) to let her take a beer pong celeb shot.

I leave to get myself a drink. I pour myself some Mohawk vodka into a solo cup of Busch Light, which I affectionately dub ‘The Bobb,’ because the drink’s always a party and smells like piss.

The Alpha Delta brothers are getting rowdy. Some jackass tries to hit on me by asking which Vice President I’m most sexually attracted to, only to leave the next moment muttering to himself about the similarities between House Republicans and gonorrhea.

“KEG! KEG! KEG!” The Alpha Delta brothers shout. I down my drink and steel myself for the heinous that is to come.

————————————–

HE’S HERE! OMIGOD HE’S HERE!!!

It takes me a little while to recognize the man before my eyes, but after I adjust to the hedonism around me and get over the brief torrent of terror that shot through me as the Keg bouncer took an additional five seconds to ensure that I truly am the 25-year-old Beyonce Lovato from Anchorage, Alaska that my ID said I was, I realize that I really am beholding the elusive Ross Packingham, HERE, in the flesh, at the Keg!

Gorgeous as all hell and with a gleam in his eye, Packingham is freaking the night away with some co-ed like he’s Channing Tatum on ecstasy.

“Carla!” He shouts, “Carla Rossi! Over here!” He’s beckoning me over to join him and his slam-piece on the dance floor, and I head his way.

And then, with a tremendous blast, the door of the Keg comes crashing down. A dark, shrouded figure looms large in the doorway. For a moment everything stops, douchebags freeze mid-thrust where they were dancing, and even that one townie playing pool turns to look. The only sound is that of Ludacris’ verse on “Baby” as Mayor Tisdahl, clad in combat boots, night-vision goggles, and a James Taylor t-shirt, fully armed with a crowbar and flanked by a cadre of Evanston cops, steps into the neon light of the Coors Light sign.

“My sources tell me that there’s been underage drinking in this establishment,” Mayor Tisdahl growls, tossing the disemboweled corpse of an engineer into the stunned crowd. “You can thank this snitch here. Now I’m going to shut this motherfucker down once and for all.”

All hell breaks loose as Elizabeth Tisdahl and her police posse attack.

Intoxicated and sweaty bodies frantically jostle with one another (not unlike the Keg on a normal Monday night) as Tisdahl brutally swings her crowbar with reckless abandon at poor defenseless English majors and ETHS seniors while the cops gleefully cite students for underage drinking by the score.

“That’s for yacking on the Evanston Post Office!” screams Tisdahl as she brains a Comm Studies student with her crowbar as he tries to scuttle up a stripper pole.

“And this will teach you to holler about blowjobs on MY streets!” she adds, sucker-punching a Tri Delt like she’s Michael Barrett squaring off against A.J.

“Say blowjob one more time. I FUCKING DARE YOU!”

I can’t bear the sight of her pile-driving two foreign students through a window, and quickly duck under a booth and pray that God will save me, or at least turn off the Bieber that’s still playing if I am to be summarily executed by Mayor Tisdahl in this den of debauchery.

The Keg has all but cleared out as I cower in fear, watching Tisdahl and her cops methodically pour big cups of Bud Light and handles of Svedka and Wild Turkey all over the Keg’s walls and floors.

Tisdahl shoulders her crowbar and lights a cigarette. Turning with a menacing gait, she addresses the few remaining students.

“Based on what I see here, I think that the Keg has some grave public safety concerns. I’m revoking the Keg’s license,” she flips her cigarette onto the booze-soaked floor, “Permanently.”

The flames erupt immediately, burning away years of sin and memories. Students scream, and Tisdahl laughs, but just as she turns to leave a gallant figure, wearing nothing but an enormous purple cape, bursts through the Keg’s window riding on the back of a dashing wildcat.

“MORTY SCHAPIRO!” everybody cheers as the lionhearted president rushes to their defense.

His body is lithe and stately, glistening in the fiery inferno as his beard bristles with the white-hot intensity of a hundred thousand Pat Fitzgeralds.

“Oh no you don’t, Tisdahl!” cries Morty, slapping the Mayor back with his massive appendage. More cheers from the students. Morty rips off a stripper pole to serve as his quarterstaff (he already has a full staff down below).

“I’m going to give you the Chet Haze treatment tonight, baby,” shouts Morty. “You’ll be white and purple when I’m done with you.”

Then Morty sets to work, fighting off cops left and right with the help of his trusty wildcat. Those police officers who are too foolish not to run away suffer the awful fate of his beard, and Morty and his steed finish them off faster than the NCAA finishing off Northwestern’s March Madness dreams.

Yet somehow in all the confusion, Mayor Tisdahl managed to escape, cursing Morty and swearing that her revenge is nigh. Few seemed to care, however, as Morty ripped open a fire hydrant with his bare hands, soused the Keg’s raging flames, and turned the club into an all-night slip-and-slide.

“Come here,” a voice says gruffly. I turn with shock and look at the man gripping my hand. It’s Packingham. “This way.”

He leads me to the Popcorn machine, raps it three times with his knuckles, opens up the top, and helps me inside. “Follow me,” Ross says, pushing a button and revealing a secret passageway that travels out of the popcorn machine and leads to a mysterious tunnel. I follow, obediently, trusting Ross completely.

“I hereby declare the Keg re-instated!” bellows the victorious, and still mostly-nude, Morty. “I wish the Keg luck with their newly instated Lifetime License to Rage!”

I can barely hear the cheers as I go deeper and deeper down the tunnel, guided only by the mysterious Ross Packingham.

To be continued

Chapter one of 50 Shades of Purple can be found HERE.

Sexist Poker

25 Apr

Dear Friends,

He at least could have shaved his armpits

On April 21st, I saw something I was not supposed to see. As I was walking through the frat quad to purchase some hummus at Lisa’s, a high-pitched noise befell upon my ears. As I furtively peeped in the windows of the offending house to find out what it was, I saw inside some dress-up games being played by a group of male Northwestern students. I later learned that this was a strip poker tournament, which typically involves groups of men using their poker skills and the game’s rules to induce the clothing removal of somewhat intoxicated women.

But what I saw Saturday afternoon was really just the “Sexist Poker Tournament.” In this house were at least 50 students, all representing some demographic of women. There were sexy housemaids, sexy flappers, sexy hippies, sexy pirate lasses, sexy nurses, sexy Disney princesses, sexy pioneers, and one feeble attempt to emulate Mila Kunis in Black Swan. There were so many sexually appealing women in that room that I considered dropping my skirt to make a “sexy nudist” costume, crashing in, and being a lesbian for the night. Then I remembered that this was a fraternity and there was a small floppy penis underneath Mila’s tutu.

This idea sounds.... intriguing.

The sickening noise I had heard came from several Katy Perry impersonators who were attempting a rendition of “The One That Got Away,” which unintentionally borrowed elements from a 12-tone piece by Schoenberg that I think I once heard in a foreign horror film. All of the students were dressed up in short skirts, high heels, makeup, excessively padded bras, sequins, glitter, and other stereotypical female garb (the overwhelming majority of women do not wear any of these on a regular basis, but rather legging-pants and a DM t-shirt). The annoying squeals of delight, the sexualizing of sluts at the expense of normal women everywhere, and the sheer number of applications of the word “adorbz” was sickening and traumatizing. This is a brutal incident that has imposed upon the various female communities on campus. This was an act of violence.

The fraternity cannot be identified at the moment due to privacy issues, but they have issued this statement:

“Religion and race have been an issue this quarter, but nobody’s done anything controversial involving gender. We wanted to give everyone an equal opportunity to be offended.”

In other news, Sigma Phi has announced that their next fundraiser will support the Women’s Center.

Potter No More

17 Apr

Accio Boner!

“Wingardium Leviosa!” said all of you to your dicks this weekend when you realized Pottermore was open to the public at last. Like your dicks were rising. Like you got a boner. From a website that includes zero naked pictures of Emma Watson. Yeah, I don’t get it either. What could be so great about this magic Internet shit? The books I understand. Nothing brings more joy than experiencing others getting to do things that I will never in my life come close to doing, AMIRITE?! (I’ll flip a coin and get back to you) But, like all of my past sexual relationships, I figured I’d see what all the fuss was about and give it a shot. So I signed up for Pottermore, and fucked around on it for about 10 minutes (which, according to the Wikipedia article on ‘Experts’ I just edited, now qualifies me as an expert on the subject), and this is pretty much what it’s like:

Welcome to Pottermore, bitches! JK Rowling here, you wanna join my epic power-trip? K, first let’s find out if you’re magical. What’s your name and email address? Oh wow, looks like you’re magical! Welcome, minion! Welcome to JK’s army-uh I mean Pottermore!

Let’s assign you a new name then, shall we? Your given name will obviously not suffice here, as there are no boring names like ‘Ron’ or ‘Harry’ or ‘George’ in my magical wizarding kingdom. Forever more, you shall be known as one of the following embarrassing combinations of words and gross diseases I made up:

WartFace26549
PhoenixPiss90
MagicalClit0211
DobbysBallsac3691
EarWaxMakesMeHorny82

Chosen yet? Great, time to get sorted, which is all that you came here for, right? JK (Rowling), you have to murk through 7 chapters first! HAHAHA tricked ya bitches! Here’s a bunch of shit to collect that will probably not mean anything later, but you have to click on every little part of every scene to find them! After that, a bunch of little factoids about minor characters will pop up, which you should all take your sweet time reading, because who doesn’t want to know where Petunia Dursley got her first job?

Alright, you’ve clicked as fast as you could through the first few chapters, tryna get sorted as fast as possible, but now I’m gonna make you do something. Hope you enjoy 2nd grade-level computer games, ‘cause that’s what it’s time for! Here’s some money, and here’s some stores, and here’s where you click ‘buy!’ Omgosh, it’s just like you’re really there, isn’t it? I’m an Internet wizard, nbd.

Welcome to Hufflepuff! Counseling services can be found in the West Tower.

Congratulations! You’ve finally arrived at Hogwarts! Time to get down to business. But first, watch this 20-minute video in which I detail my entire middle school gym class experience and how this parallels the sorting hat and why didn’t my parents love me like a love song BOO-HOO (100% skipped the video, but I feel pretty confidently that it was something along these lines). In order to properly sort you into the clique that you will wear the same colors as for the rest of your life, you’ll need to fill out this short and totally irrelevant quiz. GL, biddies!

1. If you were in a long term, monogamous relationship with a magic carpet, with which other magical object would you cheat on it with?
A. Wand
B. Broomstick
C. Telescope
D. Other Phallic Magical Item

2. Which Katy Perry lyric most strongly identifies your relationship with your pet owl:
A. Now every February, you’ll be my Valentine
B. On my 18th birthday, we got matching tattoos
C. Infect me with your love and fill me with your poison
D. Think we kissed but I forgot

3. Do you prefer blondes or brunettes?
A. Blondes
B. Brunettes
C. Gingers Weasleys
D. I’m asexual. I prefer magical Internet worlds. But I guess they can be blonde magical internet worlds

The ancient mystical wizards have conferred, and you are a….

First year girl at Beauxbatons!

I deleted my Pottermore account this morning.

West Coast Report: Straight Outta Compton, it’s the Kids’ Choice Awards!

2 Apr

Sources inform us that the orange carpet was specifically engineered to match Speaker Boehner’s skin.

Being a student at USC has some big perks; chief among them is being able to attend the orange carpet (see what they did there??) for the Nickelodeon Kids’ Choice Awards, that annual orgy of slime (or “undisclosed green liquid,” as subsequent research confirms it to be), aspiring basic-cable pop stars, and overly media-saturated tweens. Or, to put it more concisely, the cultural watershed of the year. Needless to say, I was front and center to live-tweet the shit out of the orange carpet scene and its pulsating star power.

“But I don’t follow @rkearney892 on Twitter!” you all may say.

To which I reply, “Fear not! The night’s events shall be recapped in article form lest you miss the chance to live vicariously through my celeb-filled existence!”

For those of you who have lost touch with the Nick universe as time passed (read: every one of you here), you may have a tough time adjusting to some of the changes that I discovered. For example, Rosie O’Donnell is no longer considered a kosher host for a children’s awards show! I know, right?! Also, the A-Teens were not nominated in a single category this year. Apparently kids have moved on. Go figure. You will be relieved to know, however, that the same sense of whimsy and vapid tweeny-bopper culture is as potent as ever. But I digress. Without further adieu, the play-by-play of the KCA2012 Orange Carpet:

The evening got off the ground on a fairly slow note, at least for the 19 year-old males in the crowd of gawkers (read: me and only me). While the kiddies around me chanted eagerly for BTR! BTR! (that’s Big Time Rush, a Nick-manufactured pop group) to arrive, they were temporarily satisfied by the presence of someone named “Ariana.” You may say to yourself, “who the fuck is Ariana and why is every girl shrieking ‘we love you Ariana!’” And I answer, not sure, but the Internets tell me that she is a cast member on the popular show Victorious, starring the very lovely Victoria Justice (more on her later). But then shit got real. Cody Simpson, that’s right, the Cody Simpson, AKA the Australian Bieber, graced the carpet, looking charming as ever. Swoon. With the frequency of obscure (or thrilling, depending on what millennium you were born in) Nick cast members arriving getting faster and faster, Phase Two of the orange carpet experience was ready to launch.

Sherman Ave couldn’t afford to send a photographer out to L.A., so a phone pic of One Direction will have to suffice

And what a violent phase it was! Like some Tea Party Patriots rockin’ their tri-corner hats and waving their oh-so-clever “Stop Obamunism” signs, these bitches were whipped into a frenzy. They booed the shit out of the riders the decrepit L.A. public school buses for blocking the view; they whipped out their totes adorbs homemade signs professing their love for [insert pop star here], blocking everyone’s views; and they started shrieking. Oh, did they start shrieking. By the time One Direction(look it up) showed up in their classy British car as if they were the Beatles’ grandkids, the fine line between rapture and riot was growing ever-fuzzier. What would happen with this rowdy bunch of tykes???

Thankfully, they got the worst out of their system following the big entrance of 1D (That’s One Direction, and not “Wendy,” as I initially thought they were chanting). And the arrivals just kept getting better. Miranda Cosgrove, surprisingly bashful! Jeanette McCurdy, taking pictures back at the audience! Victoria Justice, as classy and down-to-earth as you’ve no doubt assumed she’d be! And the show was even kind enough to invite Allyson Stoner, whose career peaked kissing baby Taylor Lautner in Cheaper by the Dozen 2, and Jesse McCartney, bless his heart, whose entrance may have been the finest example of *crickets chirping* in modern times. Poor guy. Jesse’s extinguished flame aside, though, things could not be going more perfectly at the orange carpet.

Then disaster struck.

Perhaps out of pity for my followers, God stepped in and sapped my phone of all power. That’s right, at the single most important live-tweeting moment of my career, I was rendered impotent. I mean, how could my awesome celeb sightings possibly be legitimate if they weren’t showed off to everyone I know?? They couldn’t.

Making the situation even more heinous (you’re welcome, Sherman Ave) was the sheer caliber of the stars that showed up while I was off the grid. Katy Perry in a shitty blue dye job! Heidi Klum, sans Seal! Josh Hutcherson, AKA Peeta from the Hunger Games, savoring the attention like a mofo! Nick Cannon and Chris Rock (da fuck?)! Emma Stone and Andrew Garfield, in an entrance that gave me a total Spidey-gasm! The spawn of Smith, Jaden and Willow, with the trademark family swag! And the High Priestesses of teendom themselves, Selena Muthafuckin Gomez and Ashley Tisdale, best friends as you always dreamed they’d be! How oh how could the world know that I saw all of these people??

The closest Brother Jürgen will ever get to Victoria Justice

Thankfully the good sirs at Sherman Avepicked up on my musings, and offered me the chance to share them with the whole Wildcat world. And you are all very lucky that they did. So that’s the story of my Kids’ Choice 2012 Orange Carpet excursion. You have now gotten to live the star-studded, slime-filled life vicariously through me. I would express my hope that this enhanced your KCA experience, but real talk, you’re all like 20 and it was a Saturday night. So I know weren’t watching. But thanks to me, you didn’t even have to!

And for that, you’re welcome.

Ryan Kearney

The Official Sherman Ave Drinking Decathlon!

20 Mar

Laurel wreaths optional.

Teams
There will be two teams. Teams may consist of between 1 to 4 people.

Playlist
There shall be a playlist composed specifically for the purpose of this game. It must include no less than eight (8) songs by Adele, five (5) songs by Rihanna, three (3) Outkast singles, and at least seven (7) songs that topped the charts before the last U.S. military intervention in Latin America.

Game Pieces

  • Copious amounts of alcohol (at least one (1) case of shitty beer, at least one (1) handle of shitty alcohol) and necessary mixers
  • One (1) Sorry! game set
  • One (1) Battleship game set
  • One (1) puzzle of 100 piece puzzle
  • One (1) deck of cards
  • One (1) box of AP United States History flashcards
  • One (1) beer pong table with sufficient cups/balls
  • One (1) golf ball
  • One (1) three (3) iron golf club

PROCEDURE

Opening Ceremonies
Each team will be randomly assigned a country well beforehand. The team must don the colors and/or flag of that nation, obnoxiously blast that nation’s national anthem, and list their nation’s grievances against the United States in chronological order and/or list the top ten STDs contracted by their nation’s citizens, in decreasing order of prevalence. The game shall begin with a ceremonial shot of said shitty alcohol, taken by each player. The shot must go unchased. Each team also has the opportunity to parade its team flag, if they are unreasonably heinous enough to design one.

THE GAMES

1. Bubble Spinner
A pitcher of mixed drink must be made and poured into a shot glass for each player partaking. Each team will nominate one player to serve as its Bubble Spinner delegate. The two opposing delegates will engage in a match of Bubble Spinner. Each time a player advances a level, each player of the opposing team must drink a shot of the aforementioned mixed drink. When a team loses, each player on said team must drink a shot of the mixed drink. The winning team will be awarded ten (10) points.

2. Sorry!
Each player will pour themselves a cup of mixed drink. Each team will control one (1) team on the Sorry! board. Players must take one drink whenever:

  • The opposing team takes a game-piece home
  • Following the Greek tradition of mental and physical excellence (nudity optional)

  • There is a “Sorry!” card played (everyone drinks)
  • A “power-slide” is implemented (everyone drinks)
  • A member of the team says the word “Sorry” (offending team drinks)
  • A seven is played (the player who played the seven gets to dole out seven drinks)

After the game has been won, everyone on the losing team must drink. The winning team will be awarded ten (10) points.

3. AP US History
Each player will be paired up with a player on the opposite team. Each player will quiz the player on the other team with fifteen (15) cards. The player must drink each time he/she misses a question. After all is done, the teams will tally the aggregate number of questions missed, and the team with fewer questions missed wins. If there is a tie, the game must be played again, in its entirety, until the tie is settled. The losing team must all drink, and the winning team will be awarded five (5) points for each question by which they’ve beat the opponent.

4. Battleship
Each team will take a side in Battleship. For each miss, one person on the missing team must drink (this person may, and should, change throughout the game). For each hit, one person on the hit team must drink (same goes). At the end of the game, everyone on the losing team must drink. The winning team will be awarded five (5) points for each grid-space by which they’ve beat the opponent.

5. Sporcle
Each player will be paired up with a player on the opposite team. Each opposing pair will randomly select a Sporcle quiz. The losing team of each quiz will have to distribute drinks however they choose among their team; one drink for each point by which they’ve been defeated. After all player pairs have gone, the team with the most aggregate points will win. The losing team drinks, the winning team will be awarded fifteen (15) points for each Sporcle quiz won.

HALFTIME
Each player must shotgun a beer. If a player abstains from shotgunning, his/her team will be penalized ten (10) points.

Uncle Sam wants you!

6. Beer Pong
Two players from each team will nominated as delegates to play a game of beer pong. The team that wins said beer pong game will be awarded twenty (20) points, and will also be awarded an additional five (5) points for each cup remaining on their side at the end of the game. Celeb shots shall be limited to two per team, and only players who can quote a full minute of Mean Girls shall be eligible to take a Celeb Shot. If the game results in overtime, the winning team only will be awarded twenty (20) points.

7. Flip Cup
The two teams will play a best of five (5) tournament of flip cup. The winning team will be awarded twenty (20) points. If a team wins in four (4) games, they will be awarded twenty-five (25) points, and if a team wins in three (3) games, they will be awarded thirty (30) points. Throughout the competition, the two teams must debate each other regarding one of four potential topics: partial-birth abortion, affirmative action, the causes and consequences of the Arab Spring, or the sexual capacity of President Morty Schapiro.

8. Facebook
Each team will nominate a delegate to compete in Facebook. Players will be awarded points for the following:

  • Poke five (5) friends from high school (five [5] points overall)
  • Comment “8==D” on two (2) statuses (five [5] points overall)
  • Challenge one (1) friend of Asian descent to a game of Words with Friends (five [5] points overall)
  • Post two (2) statuses, each quoting a song from Katy Perry or Adele in all caps (five [5] points overall)
  • Accept all friend requests that have been ignored thus far (one [1] point per friending)
  • Post four (4) pictures of the teammate winking onto the walls of any of their Facebook friends who are 40 years old or older (four [4] points overall)

9. Kings
All players must partake in one (1) game of Kings. Whichever teams breaks the circle will be penalized fifteen (15) points. Whichever team opens the beer can must go up to the roof and try to hit a Northwestern landmark with a golf ball using a three (3) iron. The team whose delegate successfully strikes the landmark will be awarded fifteen (15) points, but a failure to hit the landmark will result in a five (5) point deduction.

Bonus points for disappointing your parents

10. ACT Sample Test
A subject (Reading, Science, Math, or English) will be randomly selected. Each player will have to do one set/passage. A strict time limit must be adhered to (15 minutes each for English, 12 minutes each for Math, 10 minutes each for Reading, 5 minutes each for Science). After all players have completed their portion of the test, the scores will be totaled up, and the winning team will be awarded five (5) points for each question by which they’ve beat the opponent. A team that scores higher than the projected NU average score will be awarded two (2) points for each question they answer above the projected results, but a team that scores lower than the projected NU average score will be deducted one (1) point for each question they answer below the projected results.

CLOSING CEREMONIES
At this point, the score must be totaled. The losing team will have a chance to come back and gain one hundred (100) points, if they can complete the 100-piece puzzle in the amount of time it takes the winning team to walk to BK, eat something (documentation required), and return. If the losing team completes the puzzle by the time the winning team returns, the losing team will be awarded one hundred (100) points.

If, somehow, the teams have equal points at the end of all ten events, each player must take one shot after toasting “All men are created equal.” All players will then proceed to skinny dip in Lake Michigan.

Ross Packingham (with Evander Jones)

Why Obama Makes Me Sad

9 Feb

Let me ask you a question. How many of the following have happened since Obama’s election?

1) World peace
2) End of racism/sexism/homophobia/animal cruelty
3) The whales are saved.
4) My dog is as badass as this.

He's killing pirates! What would Jack Sparrow say about that!?

So there we have it: our president, contrary to popular belief, is not a demigod. Oh damn. If there’s anything I dislike about Obama, it’s that his followers seemed to think that following his election, a perfect world would ensue. However, in a perfect world, Rick Perry would be dead and Katy Perry would be granted immortality. So quit slobbing on his knob, because he hasn’t really done much to move us in that direction.

Here’s my first beef with Obama: the guy’s voting record as a Senator basically screams “I Wanna Be President.” The Illinois senate records show that Obama has voted “present” on 130 motions, mostly on controversial issues. Voting “present” is essentially voting “meh,” as a lawmaker. You only say “meh” when you don’t have the energy or clarity to say “No, thank you, I have decided to disagree with the decision being decided.” In a parallel manner, voting “present” means a politician either doesn’t have an opinion or doesn’t want evidence that he has one, because opinions are usually offensive to someone. Having a solidified stance would mean he’d eventually lose voters, and again, the man has had his eyes on the Oval Office longer than Rebecca Black has been alive.

At least nobody has looked sexier while cutting prescription drug costs for medicare by 50%

Number two: Obama is from one of the most corrupt states in the nation. Did anyone question how the man whose record is as spotless as a baby’s ass* somehow gathered votes in the state that produced Blagojevich, Ryan, and the Daley dynasty? Just in case you’re not local, the Land of Lincoln hasn’t had much recent luck electing moral lawmakers. 6 of the last 9 governors are charged with white-collar corruption, and 4 of those were convicted and jailed for it. The most recent villain was caught attempting to ensure that his appointment for Senate seat had something in it for him. I’m not making wild accusations of corruption; I don’t think he’s Blago. I’m saying that Obama passed the healthcare bill like a true Illinois politician: buying the holdout votes with “There’s something in it for you, Nevada and Florida!” Washington, meet pay-to-play politics.

Here’s an excerpt from a recent Facebook status reposted by a friend of mine: “Things my president has done: Got Osama…check. Same wife for 15 years with no extramarital affairs….check. Only active President to receive Nobel Peace Prize while in office…check.” There are several things wrong with this, other than the obvious “please stop drooling and engage your mental cavity.” The first: don’t give him credit for finding Osama. OUR TROOPS DID. Give him credit for the things he’s done — getting minorities out there voting, repealing Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, and buying us a healthcare bill we didn’t want while teaching the country how Illinois does legislation.

But wait, there’s more: he can stay married! Without cheating! Give the man a prize! Speaking of prizes: I should really be past this by now. But Nobel Peace prize????? Didn’t old people use to have to DO shit for that????**

Not even comparable.

And to close: though I enjoy Al Green as much as the next person, I don’t give a rat’s ass if our president is “cute.” I want a president with a pair of balls*** and a goddamn voting record. Preferably the latter. Til then, I’m gonna hold this vote. If I want to interact with a cute older man, I will seek out Liam Neeson and Frank Sinatra. Frankie has a better voice, anyways.

Here’s to bipartisanship.

Brother Jürgen, please say you’ll still love me?

——————————————————————————————————————————
*Please ponder that metaphor. It was intentional.
**Also, congratulations to the original author of this quote for seriously qualified statements. “Only President to win Nobel Prize? Damn, there were four of those. Only President to do it while in office? Damn, that was three of them! Only President alive who’s won it? Fucking Jimmy Carter! Alright- he’s the only president we have RIGHT NOW who won the Nobel Peace Prize!”
***or, as a forwarded email from my mother instructed, “Balls are weak and sensitive. If you really want to get tough, grow a vagina. Those things take a pounding.”

Special thanks to Blake Wilson, whose Facebook feedback comparing Sherman Ave to the gastrointestinal contents at the end of the Human Centipede struck the perfect balance between offensive and motivating. Blake, don’t off yourself because of internet shenanigans; we’re still mourning Phoebe Black.