The 25 (non-Football) Sports Wildcats Do Best

It’s okay, guys. We have other talents! Like these 25 sports, for example:

I Choose You: Six Pokémon That I Would (Hypothetically) Have Sex With

So it’s sex week again, and while those with sex lives (or just lives in general) are out getting some, those of us who write for Sherman Ave aren’t as fortunate are with the only thing that’s ever loved us – videogames.  So while I sit in my hallway, trying to not hear the sounds of my roommate’s passionate encounters, I couldn’t help but think of the top six Pokémon that make me wanna use the moves “Harden” and “Pound.”

1. Ditto
“I want it that way.” With Ditto, that phrase is not just the name of a song by the Backstreet Boys. Much like Burger King, Ditto lets you have it your way. Ditto can transform into anyone you want – Jennifer Lawrence, that hot girl in your bio class, your Russian Lit TA, Jennifer Lawrence…the possibilities are endless. Fantasies could be fulfilled. Plus, doing it would be less gross, because it wouldn’t seem like you were doing it with a Pokémon. Which, when you think about it, is pretty weird.

Good idea, or great idea?

2. Jynx
Often referred to as being ‘hotter than Moltres, but in a different way.’ Alternatively known as ‘that one Pokémon that’s kinda racist.’ Really the only Pokémon that is blatantly supposed to look like a trashy ‘lady of the night.’ Also the only one given boobs for no apparent reason. Considering that “Kiss” is one of its moves, as well as “Lick,” its ready for anything. It’s not designed to look like a seductress for nothing. It just wants you to go ahead and ‘Cubone’ it. Come on. Its not weird to admit you’ve thought about it. Okay, it is weird, but not that weird.

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

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

A first-hand account of Herman Cain’s visit to Northwestern

For those of you who have had the misfortune of not seeing one of the most trolled Facebook events of the 21st century, Herman Cain was brought to Northwestern by the College Republicans group on campus.  Immediately after hearing of this news, a vivid array of hypothetical situations fluttered through my mind, namely the lofty goal of dressing up in a pizza costume and rushing the stage.  There was never a shred of doubt that this event would be controversial, and there was only a minuscule shred of doubt that there would be a quote from the Pokemon movie; as I’ll explain later, that shred of doubt was unfounded.

Sadly, it wasn’t practical for me to violently pregame the event, thanks to midterms.  So instead, I just walked over to Fisk 217, the lecture hall I’ve historically associated with a balding Dutch man speaking in a monotone voice about Cap and Trade theory (we love you, Professor Hendrik “Mr. Potato Head” Spruyt).  As I sat down in my unnecessarily creaky seat, I was hit by a flash of genius:  I should live-tweet a Herman Cain speech!

Probably the most heinous live-tweeting since Evander Jones live-tweeted Space Jam

Regrettably, we were asked to turn off our phones before Mr. Cain took the stage, probably so they didn’t make noise when he sent dick pics to various young women in the audience.  It was sad to see my live-tweeting dreams be crushed, but at least they weren’t crushed as aggressively as Herman Cain’s campaign was.

After a quick video was unsuccessfully featured (it froze halfway and people really just didn’t seem surprised), the Category 5 HermanCain took the stage to roaring applause.  That was really awkward, because it indicated to me that I might be one of the only people who was coming to see Herman Cain ironically.

Four! I had four orders of Chicken Fries last night!

He started off his speech with some very rehearsed lines about dreams and success and other shit like that, which he performed as if it were a monologue from King Lear.  He then moved on to recounting his career — this took about twenty minutes, and was basically him power-tripping about his success in turning a profit on some Burger King franchises in Philadelphia.  He clearly doesn’t understand that we’re all well-acquainted with the most profitable Burger King location in the US, and couldn’t give two shits about any Burger King sites that aren’t automatically associated with the utmost drunken debauchery.

But things didn’t get really awkward until Cain starting discussing his actual politics.  The intellectual tension in the room could be cut with a knife, as everyone seemed to realize simultaneously that Herman Cain knows jack shit about foreign policy.  Among the most uncomfortable moments was when Cain proclaimed unequivocally that Germany lost World War II because they ran out of oil – a statement that, to his credit, probably goes over well with the semi-literate mountain people that attend Tea Party rallies.  However, right as the words came out of his mouth, there was a quiet buzz around the room, as everyone turned to their neighbor and whispered something along the lines of “That’s completely fucking wrong.”  He effectively dispelled any doubts of his knowledge by noticing this buzz and following up with, “Wait, am I thinking of the wrong war?”

At another point toward the end of his speech, he stated off-handedly that “the 9-9-9 tax plan will fix the economy.”  He didn’t bother elaborating on this whatsoever, but instead directed us to his website where, in his words, “there’s a five-minute video about it.”  We were all super convinced, and I’m definitely writing in Cain 2012.

Perhaps the most uneasy moment of the speech was when he talked about energy dependence, and loudly voiced his opinions that we shouldn’t be so reliant upon the “sheiks, shakes, and shikes” of the Middle East.  Following this statement, I viciously pinched my arm 1o to 12 times, convinced that this was actually just one of my many fucked-up dreams.  It wasn’t.

And then he closed with what we now know to be his favorite Pokemon quote.  Honestly, at this point I was in so much disbelief that I was temporarily paralyzed.  Like, I couldn’t actually move, I was just so transfixed by Herman Cain’s complete absurdity.

I didn’t stay for questions.

Newt Gingrich, South Carolina, and the Abortion of My Career in Political Commentary

And I don't think I want to. Except for understanding your disproportionate ability to get laid.

The GOP primaries are like Chicago weather: completely, utterly, and insanely unpredictable.* Just when you think you understand the day-to-day realities of winter in Chicago, BAM!! Thunderstorm in January. Just when you think you’ve figured out the winner of the GOP nomination, BOOM! Newt wins South Carolina.

I mean, what the fuck, Newt? I thought we were done. I really did. I thought Silly Time was over and it was time for some Real Talk with Obama and Romney (or at the very least, an Al Green-themed The Voice-style sing-off). Not so fast. But I guess I should’ve seen this coming.

Here is a Facebook status I wrote a few months ago, when Newt Gingrich was polling in first place while his opponents floundered, as Herman Cain struggled to fight rape charges and Rick Perry struggled to remember things and Mitt Romney struggled to be interesting: “Newt Gingrich is in first place. That’s it. It’s all a farce. Let’s stop pretending that all of this is real. I throw up my hands.”

Newt polling in first was to the GOP race what Sam and Frodo reaching the end of the Shire was for LOTR. We were now farther from political sanity than we had ever been before, and there was no telling where we would be swept off to next.

Google his name. GOOGLE IT!!!

Two months later, Rick Santorum won Iowa.

Rick Santorum! His name has been successfully Google-bombed and EVERYBODY KNOWS IT and he still won Iowa!

I underestimated the GOP. And not in a “wow I underestimated how good this Nutella milkshake from Fran’s would be” kind of way. Oh no. It was a “the 1984 Portland Trail Blazers underestimated Michael Jordan so much they decided to draft Sam Bowie instead of him” kind of underestimation. Half of me understood that the Newt poll meant the Brotherhood of Dada had dragged us into an alternate universe where ‘politics’ was synonymous with ‘freakshow’ and words lost their meaning and anything was possible…but half of me kept thinking that every crazy development (“oops,” Herman Cain’s Pokémon obsession, Ron Paul’s status as the voice of reason) was the zenith of absurdity, that there remained no further depths to which we could plunge.

But you best believe Newt Gingrich always had an answer for me. Once again, for the record, in case you were too busy this weekend dancing to polka music or playing cards with guys who have the Teen Titans tattooed on their arm to hear about it, Newt won South Carolina! Once more for the record: aaaaahhhhhhhhh!

Is this year’s GOP race the result of some twisted alternate earth they dragged us into?

My last article was not only a celebration of the ridiculous hilarity of the GOP campaign, but also an elegy for that craziness, which I thought was about to vanish in a cloud of sanity. I thought Mitt finally had this all locked up after winning New Hampshire, and I was sure we were finally transitioning from Perry-Bachmann-Cain-Paul-Gingrich to Romney-Obama, to real political debates between two sane candidates. But then Newt charged back to metaphorically punch me in the mouth and remind me that America isn’t going to stop being a hot dysfunctional mess anytime soon.

My possible career in political commentary hasn’t even started and I’m already thinking of quitting forever. I just cannot wrap my head around Newt Gingrich. Can anybody? If you thought Rick Santorum was vulnerable to a casual Google search, try taking Newt’s name for a virtual walk some time. Newt probably has his closet bolted shut with a chair against the door and that still isn’t enough to keep the skeletons in. There is absolutely no possible way that Newt can win the GOP nomination, much less the presidency. But if this campaign has taught us anything, it’s that the possible is impossible and up is down and America is fucked up. In the real world, Newt could never win. But I don’t think we even live in the real world anymore.

Newt

My sense of surprise is utterly gone. For the rest of eternity I will believe any story, any event that involves the GOP. Nothing is too nonsensical for a party where Newt Gingrich is a viable candidate. I probably won’t even bat an eye when Bristol Palin wins the Iowa caucuses in four years and becomes the favorite to win the GOP nomination. The Republican Party has moved beyond my paltry comprehension ability.

I think I’m just gonna have to stick to the fiery anti-coffee invective. I can’t do this anymore.

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*And for those of you scoring at home, “Chicago weather” is the third thing I’ve compared the GOP primaries to during my career. The list also includes Doctor Who and NBC’s Thursday night sitcom lineup.

Things That Rock: Republicans

Good to see you again. Sorry that it’s been so long since I last made you laugh, but I’ve had a tumultuous couple of weeks. You see, ever since I stole away from my monastery in the middle of the night (no, that ‘Brother’ in my name isn’t random) armed only with a box of tagalongs Peanut Butter Patties and a pair of hook swords, I have been mercilessly pursued by a cadre of cyborg zombie ninjas hell-bent on forcing me back to the monastery where I would be forced to eat beets and contemplate Godel Escher Bach alongside the other monks for the rest of eternity. Hell no. But now that I’m safely holed up in a top-secret bunker located miles beneath Ayers Rock, I’m free to write another article!

I'll miss this woman.

Luckily for all you raging optimists, this one is about something that’s awesome, as opposed to something that’s terrible. Even better, it’s about a ‘diamond in the rough’ sort of awesomeness that can be hard to appreciate if you take it too seriously.* In other words: this year’s Republican presidential primaries.

The GOP candidates (or as I like to call them, Mitt & Friends) have been so ubiquitous in our culture these last few months that I’m sure your mind was assailed with a flood of images and quotes and feelings as soon as you saw those words. Maybe they’ve made you angry or sad or scared for the future of America. But hell, they were entertaining, weren’t they?

Yes they were. Especially once it became clear that turds like Michele Bachmann had no chance of making the cut, it was fun to kick back and watch Rick Perry metaphorically poop himself on live TV or listen to Herman Cain quote the Pokemon movie after his past as a serial rapist was revealed.

Here’s how I parlayed the possible terror of these primaries into something enjoyable: Imagine you went in for a routine dentist checkup. You expect it to be as routine and uneventful as it always is when you go in for these appointments every four years, but surprise! Your dentist finds deep rot in some of your teeth. A root canal’s the only thing for it. Shit, you’ve got a nonrefundable one-way ticket to of the most infamously painful procedures ever conceived by doctors. Begin the nervous freakout.

What else to say about the awesomeness of the GOP primaries?

That root canal diagnosis (and the crippling fear that accompanied it on your part) was Bachmann winning the Ames Straw Poll, or perhaps Perry’s entry into the campaign as a veritable behemoth of money and charisma and prayer, plus former pizza CEO Herman Cain making the cover of Newsweek as the candidate to beat. Former pizza CEO! It sure looked like America was headed for an extremely painful procedure, wasn’t it?

But then a few days later, after you’ve spent several sleepless nights tossing and turning over your fate, you get a call from your dentist. He forgot to tell you: they’re going to knock you out for all of it. You won’t feel a thing. And painkillers being what they are these days, you’ll be right as rain within 24 hours.

For me, that brow-wiping ‘wheeeeeeeeeeew’ moment was the poll, one of the first after Cain and Perry and Bachmann had risen and fallen in the ratings like the figures on a merry go round (only if those figures were stupid clowns instead of the usual beautiful horses), that showed Newt Gingrich in first place. NEWT GINGRICH! FIRST PLACE! Good God, this man once impeached a president for infidelity while cheating on his second wife with a woman who ended up becoming his third wife, and later explained his extramarital affairs by saying that they were “partially driven by how passionately I felt about this country.” Yes! And he was in first place to be the Republican candidate for president! I had been almost scared to laugh at the primaries up to this point, like meeting a guy at a party who keeps nonsensically rambling about Clarence Thomas, only you don’t laugh because you can’t tell if he’s joking or drunk. But now Newt Gingrich was in first place! Turns out that guy was drunk and joking! Commence laughter!**

In a gold-in-the-sand kind of way, or perhaps in a we’ll-knock-you-out-for-the-entire-procedure kind of way, that subtle change in viewing the GOP primaries completely transforms the experience from frightening to hilarious. Once you don’t have to worry about finding a house in Canada (my personal Bachmann contingency plan), you can enjoy these video compilations of classic Bachmann quotes (complete with music!) and laugh at the complete absurdity of the existence of ‘classic Bachmann quotes.’ Once you don’t have to watch professional people seriously debate the 9-9-9 tax plan, you can enjoy the ceaseless stream of ridiculousness that is Herman Cain. Once Rick Santorum wins second place in the Iowa caucuses and opens the door to all sorts of Twitter-ready remarks about how Santorum is being spread in Iowa, it’s nothing but joy.

The man loves to get some tail.

I loved these primaries. From a comedy standpoint, there really was nothing better. How can you not love a primary campaign that spawned a website devoted to showcasing animals with Newt Gingrich?

Unfortunately, it looks like we’re going to be stuck with Romney vs. Obama for the next few months, two rational, intelligent, and capable men locked in learned debate. Being the heinous renegade monk that I am, I don’t really know what ‘learned debate’ means, but I’m guessing there will be fewer Pokemon quotes involved. I don’t know what I’m going to do for reality TV entertainment. I mean, maybe you can sit through an episode of the Steven Tyler American Idol, but I certainly can’t. But then again, you’re probably a better person than I am, as evidenced by the fact that you’re not currently on the lam from a cadre of cyborg zombie ninjas.

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*Much like the cinematography of Wayne’s World 2.
**And the systematic destruction of any shred of decency that remained in Fran’s.

5 Reasons Why Today Sucks

I WILL DEEP-FRY YOUR FAMILY, BITCH.

Let me tell you something:  I am all about optimism.  But when the world is a horrible, horrible place in which morals are deteriorating, the environment gets buttsexed harder and harder each day, and Paula Deen has only been assaulted with a ham one time, you have to be reasonable before you’re optimistic.  And to speak from the perspective of reason: Wednesday, January 18, 2012, is going to be the Herbert Hoover of days.  Here’s why.

Reason #5:  It’s a Wednesday

My grandfather used to tell me that the only thing worse than a Wednesday was an overpriced Cambodian prostitute.  I’ve lived by this my whole life, and upon further research, have realized that he was completely right; such tragic historical events as the Great Depression, the Spanish Inquisition, and the Holocaust all happened on Wednesdays.  Despite the fact that this current week is only four days (thanks to Martin Luther King Jr., a fierce and relentless advocate of the 4-day week) (….…that’s what he was best known for, right?), I just intuitively know that Wednesday is going to be a massive pelvic thrust into the back of my skull.

This guy would be getting all up in dat ass if it weren't for a severe case of genital hibernation.

Reason #4:  It’s fucking cold

Chicago’s frigid temperatures are like a straight dropkick to the testicles – painful over a long period of time, difficult to recover from, and prone to occur on Valentine’s Day.  There is nothing favorable about the body’s reaction – whether we’re talking about solidified nostrils, hands frozen numb, or testicles that have receded so far into your body that your nether regions are now just a flat wasteland of lonely anguish, there is no good that comes from these subzero temperatures.  And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the wind will readily rush at you like a recruiter from a new fraternity on campus.

Reason #3:  Wikipedia is blacked out

According to  

I learned the other day that

Studies have shown

I was doing research and apparently

Tits.

If Wikipedia's blackouts are anything like Sherman Ave's, they'll be belting Adele really loudly right now.

Reason #2:  WIKIPEDIA IS BLACKED OUT

OH GOD WHYYYY I CAN’T DO THIS I AM LITERALLY NOTHING WITHOUT WIKIPEDIA I WANT TO LEARN ABOUT THE HISTORY OF FRITO’S AND NOW I CAN’T AND OHHH GODDDDDD IT’S STILL WEDNESDAY IS IT DONE BEING WEDNESDAY YET SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME oh what’s that?  Reddit is blacked out too?  Oh, that’s fine.

Reason #1:  Mitt Romney Hasn’t Been Banished From America Yet

I’ve been waiting for a while and it hasn’t happened yet.  It has become quite clear that the man does not possess a single positive quality, but somehow he’s still beating out guys with notable positive qualities (Ron Paul’s adorable voice, Herman Cain’s extensive knowledge of Pokemon quotes, Jon Huntsman appalling ability to be a GOP presidential candidate who isn’t a raging fuckhead).  Surely it can’t be that hard to get rid of this doucheopotamous.  Can’t we just tell him that he won the lottery and gets to go to The Island?

5 Quotes From the Pokémon Movie that Cain Probably Considered Using

Cain used "Grope." It's super effective

Last week, Republican presidential candidate and horny bastard Herman Cain announced the suspension of his campaign to a group of supporters (or as close to supporters as he gets) in his home state of Georgia. While the audience seemed strangely disappointed by this wondrous news, Cain managed a positive attitude. Quoting Uncle Tom’s Cabin, Cain asserted: “Life can be a challenge, life can seem impossible. It’s never easy when there is so much on the line. But you and I can make a difference.” Oh, did I say the quote was from Uncle Tom’s Cabin? What I meant was THE FUCKING POKEMON MOVIE. AN ADULT. A GROWN MAN DID THIS. Needless to say, this obscure and utterly atrocious quote was not, in fact, super effective. Maybe if Ash Ketchum were running for Mayor of Assclownville, a Pokémon quote would be appropriate, but in the American presidential primaries, it seems quite out of place. Yet, it does the beg questions: Which other quotes from Pokemon movies was Cain tempted to use?

5. “So this is my power…but what is my purpose?”
4. “I guess you’ll learn that playing with the big boys can be a shock in experience.”
3. “We’ve hit rock bottom!”
2. “Do you think I will have a bigger role in the next movie?”
1. “Listen to me kid, when you get involved with the opposite sex, you’re only asking for trouble.”