10 Reasons Why You Should Apply to be a Writer for Sherman Ave

Everything the sun touches will be yours

10. You want to get involved on campus.
Sherman Ave is a great way to get involved, because… well…
…okay, there’s a reason this is number ten. But it sure is a hell of a lot better way to get involved here at Northwestern than joining a group of peppy undergrads who sing a capella covers of Yellowcard.

9. You aren’t currently a writer on Sherman Ave.
Realistically, you aren’t content with that. Join us, and we will imbue your life with meaning and satisfaction.

Ross Packingham as a child

8. The lifestyle.
Drugs, sex, and rock and roll. Except it would be more aptly described as alcohol, alcohol, and Bruce Springsteen. C’mon, all the cool kids are doing it. So is some twat named Evander Jones.

7. You love Morty.
We love Morty. Is that not enough? Just think about the man’s silky, silvery beard and how much you’d love to write articles about it.

6. Pseudonyms.
Everyone secretly yearns for a secret identity. As a writer on Sherman Ave, you’ll get the chance to not only have a secret identity, but to have a secret identity that offends at least 85% of the global population.

Warning: All new Sherman Ave writers must first pledge their undying love and allegiance to Pippa before they can start writing

5. You’re unnecessarily attracted to Pippa Middleton.
Join the club, champ.

4. It’s free.
We live in a world where nearly everything costs money – barring, of course, happiness. And while money can’t buy happiness, being a writer on Sherman Ave can bring you relative happiness from the heinousness and despair you thrust upon others. And if that’s not enough to warm the cockles of your frigid heart, just think of all the slampieces you’ll bag as a writer for this blog (unless, of course, you first have to explain to her that you are the true identity of somebody named “Sir Edward Twattingworth III”).

3. You went to Lyons Township High School.
We don’t know what it is about that place, but they manage to crank out more atrocious individuals than Octo-Mom would if she were boinking Fred Phelps.

2. You came to our informational meeting.
It was at Burger King at 1 o’clock on a Saturday afternoon. You wore a three-piece suit with a keyboard tie. We were visibly intoxicated. Don’t even try telling us you were just there for the food.

A graphical representation of the Sherman Ave community

1. The people.
Sherman Ave is an excellent group of people, who will do everything from drunkenly showing up to a house party dressed as John F. Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe to beaning you in the cranium with freshly-picked apples. The people who aren’t us want to be us. And the people who don’t want to be us are probably from one of the following countries: Latvia, New Zealand, Iceland, Uruguay, Brazil, Kyrgyzstan, São Tomé and Príncipe, France, or Costa Rica.

Hate a Random Country: Kyrgyzstan

Kyrgyzstan: a geographical AND linguistic bitch

You’ve all experienced it. It’s 3:30am on a Saturday, you’re more plastered than an ex-convict uncle at an open-bar wedding reception, and you’re staring with insurmountable anguish at Sporcle’s “Countries of the World” quiz as the clock ticks down to 00:00 with all but one country entered. The moment of despair strikes when the missing country flashes on the page: Kyrgyzstan.

“MOTHERFUCKING SON OF A SHITCLOWN IN MY ASSHOLE!”

It’s a sad day for our society when hundreds of dollars in furniture damage can be attributed to the unreasonable spelling of one measly fucking nation. Not even a nation –- a “stan.” Indeed, the word “Kyrgyzstan” can only have been produced by a bowl of alphabet soup special-ordered by Helen Keller. And if that isn’t atrocious enough, the only redeeming value in Kyrgyzstan’s name –- the disgustingly high Scrabble score it would yield –- is canceled out by Scrabble’s unthinkably heinous “no proper noun” rule (I’m still bitter about that time I could have played “Kiribati”…fuckers). Kyrgyzstan is a haven for all things contemptible; the life-ruining spelling of the country is only the tip of the iceberg.

Nothing compares to the bitter Kappa Delta-Kyrgyzstan rivalry, not even the infamous Tri Delt-Pakistan decade-long feud

Kyrgyzstan’s sports culture, or lack thereof, is just as horrendous as the country’s use of 8 consecutive letters without a true vowel. Let’s start with the 2010 Olympics –- Kyrgyzstan sent a whopping TWO competitors (one for each letter in the country’s name worth 5 or more points in Scrabble) competing in three events. Of those three events, there was a “Did Not Qualify,” a “Did Not Finish,” and a “76th place.” Kyrgyzstan, for fuck’s sake, are you serious? Your athletic abilities are being scrutinized by a Northwestern student right now; that’s about as rough as it gets. If by some stroke of confused magic, the Kyrgyzstani National Soccer team was lined up against, I don’t know, let’s say the Kappa Delta Intramural Soccer team, the Kyrgyzstanis would certainly be the underdog. To add to the sad stature of their sporting lifestyle, it should be noted that one of the most popular up-and-coming sports in Kyrgyzstan is a game called “Bandy” –- a game which, judging from its half-assed Wikipedia page, appears to be some mixture of soccer, ice hockey, and sexually frustrated middle-aged men. Don’t get me wrong, though; to Kyrgyzstan’s credit, they did win two medals (not gold, of course) in 2008 in Greco-Roman Wrestling. So if you’re ever in a situation where you’re wrestling with someone but not allowed to attack the legs, know that if your opponent is Kyrgyzstani, your chances of winning the fight are very slightly diminished.

The hottest woman in Kyrgyzstan

Let’s turn this conversation to a lighter topic: Sex crimes. One very prevalent issue in Kyrgyzstan is “bride kidnapping,” in which a man abducts the woman whom he would like to marry. Studies show that approximately half of all marriages in Kyrgyzstan are a byproduct of bride kidnapping, or ala kachuu (which literally translates to “to take and to flee”). This clearly stems from a misunderstanding; what we call “bride kidnapping” is what Kyrgyzstanis call “chivalry.” Kyrgyzstani men merely want to save their future spouse the stress of one of those notoriously gaudy Kyrgyzstani weddings.

While we’re on the topic of customs and celebrations in this steaming shitwaffle of a nation, we might as well talk about the primary Kyrgyzstani holiday: Nowruz. Recognized on the spring equinox, the holiday centers around a game called Buzkashi, in which grown men literally ride around a field on horses trying to pick up a goat carcass off the ground. Essentially, it’s Central Asian Quidditch. However, don’t get Buzkashi confused with Kokpar, another regional sport that involves riding on horses and carrying around goat carcasses.

Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with Kyrgyzstan?