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Tag Archives: Plex

Sherman Ave Freshman Guide: Date Night

11 Sep

datenight1This is for those of you who will be brave enough to hurdle the biggest barrier to getting a date at Northwestern: actually just fucking asking someone out already. The journey from being the person who judges the couple holding hands while waiting in line for sushi to being the person who has a boyfriend or girlfriend to help you make fun of the couple holding hands while waiting in line for sushi can be long, strenuous, and very occasionally sexually satisfactory. The following guide will help immerse yourself in Northwestern’s insulated stultifying vibrant dating scene. Or at least help snag you a warm body to fasten yourself to during winter quarter.

The First Date

Kafein: Good place for hipsters to grab a caramel turtle mocha and split a warmed up cookie. If conversation lulls, you can always heckle the townies doing stand up on Monday nights.

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Sherman Ave Interviews: Morty Schapiro

6 Jun

The Sherman Ave Editors (Evander Jones, Ross Packingham and Sir Edward Twattingworth III) sat down with Northwestern University President Morty Schapiro for an interview.  Why he agreed to let us do this, we may never know, but we sure are happy he did.

"I'm allergic to cats."

“I’m allergic to cats.”

Packingham: If you could make a drink called “The Morty,” what would it entail?

Morty: Oh man. Like an alcoholic drink?

Twattingworth: Wow, interesting that your mind went there.

Morty: Yeah… Well, you know when I drink, like last night–this is really exciting–but one-third orange juice, two-thirds Perrier.

Packingham: Perrier? Is that vodka? Or rum?

Morty: And they have to give me this much wine so I can hold it to pretend I’ll drink it, but I’m not a wine drinker. I like beer when I have Asian food. I like Thai beer, or Japanese beer or something.

Packingham: Like a Budweiser?

Morty: I don’t think I’ve ever had one of those. So I’m not big on like American Continue reading

Sherman Ave Freshman Guide: Everything Else

18 May
Deering Forum

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.

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An Open Letter to the Dude Living Across The Hall

1 May

Hey Guy,

You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. I think we said “hey” to each other once while moving in. And I get that. You’re a private person; I am too; that’s why we live in Plex. And I realize that there comes a time when a private person wants to open up a little, and share that privacy with a significant other, be it a man, a woman, or one of those weird things from Star Trek. And I understand that too.

But I am not writing to you simply because you’re a private person. I’m writing to you because at 3 goddamn 30 in the morning, your privacy has encroached upon my privacy. Specifically, I speak of the Air-Raid Siren which you seem to be fucking nightly. And do not think I am simply being hyperbolic, because even though your room is the furthest from mine of all my neighbors, and even though my door was tightly shut, and even though I was listening to Death Grips through my headphones, I could still hear the cacophonous moaning of your girlfriend.

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30 More Things That Go Through The Mind Of Every Northwestern Student (Almost) Every Day

30 Apr
Is it true that Morty once took Margaret Thatcher to a nice dinner and never called her back?

Is it true that Morty once took Margaret Thatcher to a nice dinner and never called her back?

Because 33 things that go through the mind of every Northwestern student (almost) every day just wasn’t enough.

1) OF ALL THE GIN JOINTS IN ALL THE WORLD WHY DID TISDAHL HAVE TO SHUT DOWN MINE.

2) No but it’s fine The Keg wasn’t that great I’ll just go somewhere else in Evanston OH MY GOD THERE IS NO WHERE ELSE.

3) TIIIIIISSSSSSSDAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

4) It’s April. Why the fuck do I need to wear a Northface in April.

5) If BK was a McDonalds I would be broke and fat.

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Keg Week 2013: The Top 10 Most Heinous Yelp Reviews for The Keg of Evanston

3 Apr

According to the online directory yelp.com, the Keg of Evanston is great for a late night and horrible for children without anything that resembles proper identification. For Sherman Ave’s ongoing celebration of Keg Week, we found the top ten yelp reviewers heinous enough to devote ten minutes of their lives to informing the greater Chicagoland area about TKOE.

10. Keg Dinner for Two
Screen Shot 2013-04-02 at 5.30.37 PM
I’ve been shut out the past two times I tried to get dinner at the Keg, and this woman who looks old enough to remember when Evanston was dry is able to enjoy a meal there that cost as much as a night at Chili’s and probably tasted like a night at Joliet Correctional Center? Fate is as fickle as a co-ed on a stripper pole.

9. Nothing but the Truth
Screen Shot 2013-04-02 at 5.30.13 PM
Too bad Tal R. confused Chet Haze for a New Trier dude.

8. ASIAN GIRL
Maybe (asian girl)
Having eaten breakfast at Plex — which must be comparable to most high-end strip club breakfast buffets — I can really identify with Isaac C. Besides, most times when I scream “ASIAN GIRL,” they either mace me or shout back “HONKY BRO.” Incidentally, how much does a cab ride cost to get from The Keg to Deering?

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New Theme Restaurant to Open in Plex

21 Dec
Interrogation Rooms designed to feel just like EPD HQ.

Interrogation Rooms designed to feel just like EPD HQ.

EVANSTON — In response to revenue losses from the opening of Rick Bayless’ Frontera Fresco in the Norris University Center, Northwestern University food services, nuCuisine, will be opening a specialty restaurant inside Foster-Walker Complex.  The new restaurant, named “Third Degree,” is inspired by intense police dramas and will specialize in hard-boiled foods.  The Theme Restaurant is set to open by the end of January shortly after students return for winter quarter.

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Your Latest Dwombos (Daily Word Combinations)

16 Feb

New lexical creations to describe current events and occurrences at Northwestern? Why, of course!

Hot Cookie Bar beats writing that thesis on the Roberts Court any day of the week.

Procrastin-eating
If you’ve ever sat down to finish a problem set, and instead played Sporcle until Allison opened at 4:45, you’re procrastin-eating. If you’ve ever found yourself entirely focused on your bag of vending-machine Salsitas that you weren’t hungry for until you saw the vast white expanse of Microsoft Word that you must magically transform into The A+ Paper That Will Save Your Grade, you’re procrastin-eating. When you don’t know the answer, don’t want to figure it out, and it’s snacktime, you’re procrastin-eating. My name is Eleanor Kinkervoss and I am a procrastin-eater.

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How to Not Give a Fuck About Valentine’s Day and Still Get Laid: A Beginner’s Guide to Accidental Pussy

15 Feb

Aw, you and Marcus didn’t work out?

It’s that time of the year again. No, not Black History Month, though props to my dogs. It’s that time of year when it seems like everyone you know is either:

a) in a relationship with a human
b) in a relationship with a cat
c) in a relationship with their hand

But with Valentine’s Day finally behind us, everyone seemed to be able to put aside their differences and focus on one thing and one thing only: SEX. Fornication, coitus, nooky, whoopee, boinking, taking a roll in the hay. Whatever you call it, it’s probably disgusting. I’m gonna go ahead and assume that you, like most of Northwestern’s population, fell into the third category. Fear not, peasant! As always, I am here to help in times of crisis. Stick to my rules and in no time your dick will be sure to be worming it’s way inside many a skank.

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Interviews: A Zombie

11 Dec

Turns out, zombies are real. And we have one in captivity.

Mr. Nibbles struggles with a brain addiction and chronic back pain

This is an interview with an actual zombie, who was born, raised, died, and raised in Haiti. On Sherman Avenue’s latest manatee-hunting excursion, we found a zombie, named him Mr. Nibbles, and took him home to be our new pet. This interview was conducted through the bars of his cage (in the bedroom of Sir Edward Twattingworth III), as we fed him centipede brains from Plex and Cheerios from Hinman.

Sherman Ave: Tell us, Mr. Nibbles, how did you become a zombie?

Nibbles: Well, it started out when I went to the Bokor to get some pot.

SA: What’s a Bokor?

Nibbles: Our resident witch doctor. You know how whenever American thugs want to cut a bitch, they cut the bitch? Haitians just go see the Bokor and he curses the bitch. He also deals things.

SA: So what was different when you went to buy from him this time?

Nibbles: Well, I told him that my last trip had been more painful than teaching wildcats to play sports. So he gave me something new to try. Said it came from pufferfish.

SA: What did the pufferfish stuff do?

Nibbles: It knocked me out. I apparently looked pretty dead.

SA: How long did this go on?

Nibbles: Long enough to be buried alive. Can I have some more Cheerios?

SA: Not until you’re done with the interview. What was being dead like?

Nibbles: I wasn’t dead, I was just unresponsive.* When I eventually came to, I felt worse than freshmen sorostitutes on a post-Keg Tuesday morning, and I had a mad case of the munchies. Basically, the Bokor had knocked me out and then given me a dose of datura, which is just your run-of-the-mill potentially toxic hallucinogen.

SA: Can you describe the effects of datura?

Nibbles: Well, it walks a foggy, fucked-up line somewhere between hallucinogen and near-death experience. I’d done it before I was zombified on it. You kinda mumble around tripping massive crusty balls. Side effects are extreme suggestibility, amnesia, diaphragm paralysis, and sometimes aggression. There are Youtube videos of state school Motherfuckers immortalizing each other’s bad decisions on datura. But essentially, you’ve just been roofied by the Bokor.

SA: So in a stereotypical zombie, the drooling, moaning, slurring, limping, and aggression is probably because of the datura.

Nibbles: Exactly. And because zombies are pretty complacent most of the time, they usually get put to work in the field. But I’m sure there are Bokors who get more creative with their zombie slaves.**

SA: Do you identify with the common stereotype of a zombie?

Nibbles: I mean, in some ways. I definitely lost a lot of brains due to asphyxiation while I was buried alive, as a lot of zombies do. I think that oftentimes that disappointment that you’ve just died a little on the inside manifests itself in the aggression caused by the datura. You just want your brains back in whatever way you can, and you end up trying to nom on anyone normal in the area.

A huge part of zombification is the mental adjustment. When you’ve been buried alive and you wake up feeling more fucked up than the lovechild of Tom Cruise and Charlie Sheen, a common question to ask is, “What’s wrong with me?” But the question never comes out right. You end up with something like, “Hn wclch trchk blm nnnnng?” And when the answer from your friends and family is “HOLY FLYING FUCK, I THOUGHT YOU DIED,” at some point you do start believing you’re a zombie. It’s like your crotchety black uncle who’s convinced he’s a Democrat because he’s a minority, despite his right-wing stance on every fucking issue on the platform. It’s like having anorexia and participating in the Stanford prison experiment. There’s this impossibly perfect standard of what a zombie should be, and you have zombies becoming someone else to try to fit into those roles.

SA: So what you’re saying is that you felt pressured by the cultural expectations of zombies.

Nibbles: Yeah. I started hanging around graveyards, I lumbered around slower than the frustrating Motherfucker in the dining hall who’s obliviously in your way when you’re hauling ass to the cookie bar line, I didn’t say anything but “NNNNNGGG” for a year or two. I mean, what kind of a word is “Ng”? The stereotyping and idealization of zombies in the media is a dangerous cultural phenomenon, and it goes unquestioned and unreported. Every time you watch a George Romero film, I beg you to please remember that not every zombie can tear the limbs off of a pair of dumbass lovers trying to make a kamikaze run for their lives. And not every zombie wants to.

SA: Are there any portrayals of zombies in movies that you’d like our readers to watch?

Nibbles: Yeah. There’s a Spanish foreign film*** called Rec, off of which the American piece of shit Quarantine was based. If you’re going to watch a zombie movie, Rec is significantly more heinous. Please honor Latin America with the concession that this movie might be the one thing we don’t do as well. Also, Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island. Hanna-Barbera gets enough zombie facts right to be legit.

SA: Thank you. Nibbles, I think this concludes our interview. We really appreciate your input on the subject. It’s been a heinous time.

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*Like the side door of Annenberg.
**Interactive question for readers: What would YOU do with a zombie slave?
***There are subtitles. Get over it, you’re reading things right now. But apparently they mistranslate the foul language, so whenever you hear the word “mierda” you’ll have to either get off your lazy ass and onto Spanishdictionary.com, or rely on whatever AP Spanish remains accessible behind the stacks of quotable South Park episodes in your brain. See? You knew being bilingual was good for something. You can power trip over your ability to point out inconsistencies in the translation of profanity.