Holiday Guide: NU Gift Ideas For Your Favorite Wildcat

A yamaka with Pat Fitzgerald's face on it is also appropriate as a Hanukkah gift

So you’ve got to find gifts for the dorm buddies you’ve known less than four months and the friends you haven’t seen since before you lost your innocence. Or maybe you’ve just gotten your early decision letter* and you’re wondering what else you could possibly want in life. Fear not: Sherman Avenue is committed to delivering you new holiday ideas from our sack full of sassy class.

Fucksaw
Admit it: you have those days. You’re hornier than a two-peckered triceratops, but too tired to go all the way up north to flirt your way into some frat bro’s lovestained man-cave and too classy to booty text your “It’s Complicated” on the fourth floor. Hell, you don’t want to deal with people at all. This is why sex toys exist. Remember: nothing says Wildcat Pride like a decently sized purple drilldo.

A Framed Photo of Yourself
Because who wouldn’t want that? You could even pose like the self-photography of 13-year-old girls whose love for MySpace is only second to love of themselves. If you’re really feeling it, make it a poster — the recipient can put it above their bed and wake up self-gratify themselves to it every morning like they did with their Channing Tatum poster in middle school. But this time, they might even have your fucksaw to help out.

A Framed Photo of Morton Schapiro
See above.

Box O’Fun
Not what it sounds like, and a legit good idea. I’m compiling quotations that are inspiring (“Remember, things are never so bad that they can’t get worse”), dorky (“Is your name Avada Kedavra? Cause you’ve got a killer bod”), mature (“I’M STANDING RIGHT BEHIND YOU…made you look”) and thoughtful (“Can I borrow your hair straightener?”). I’m putting them with candy in a small tasteful storage container names-in-a-hat style, and instructing my BFF to draw a quotation every time she needs to de-stress or procrastinate.

Gift Card to Burger King
Let’s be real: after Willard dining hall, this is your friend group’s second-most-patronized food acquisition area in Evanston. Late-night drunchies? Weekend Hinman’s too busy? You give someone the gift of free burgers, and they’re gonna use it.

Would you like that gift rapped?

A Frat Bro
So what if your homegirl’s not rushing? You might still consider getting a talented PMA bro to serenade her. May I recommend Flight of The Conchord’s classic ditty, “Most Beautiful Girl in the Room.”** Because sometimes, we all need our fucksaws to have faces.

Cookies
No matter how incredible hot cookie bar can be, nothing compares to homemade peanut blossoms. Nothing.

Another legit idea: “Cookie mix in a jar.” You’ve seen it. Someone gives out a jar/bag/mug of dry ingredients and lets the recipient do the messy work. But it’s cute.

A Stripper
Give me one reason why not. I dare you.

The Love Professor will see you now

Professor J. Reginald Vandernips
Women love him. Men love him. Parents, pets, and children of all ages love him. He knows more about cooking than Rachel Ray and Martha Stewart put together, regularly fielding obscure questions regarding food science and practicing his skills. He’s slept under lecture tables in Tech and licked objects labeled “biohazardous.” If there is one thing on this list that you choose to purchase for your wildcat, let it be Professor Reggie V.

Keep your friends close and your heinousness closer.

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*In which case, CONGRATS!
**Ellie K once had an overnight tryst with a boy who sang her that very song. However, contrary to what one might expect, the full-length serenade did not facilitate the hookup, but rather transpired a significant amount of time later in a location where she was quite literally The Only Girl in the Room. She’s never been quite sure what to make of that.

Places You Shouldn’t Meet a Girl

Continuing yesterday’s romantic advice of Manua Hiki-Hiki, Professor J. Reginald Vandernips offers some suggestions for inadvisable places to meet a future paramour.

Currently plotting the best way to get you to buy her a drink

You met her at the Keg.
Now, no one is criticizing you for lacerating some girl’s uvula on a beer and Long Island Iced Tea soaked particle board floor last Saturday. In fact, it would be a social infraction if you had actually bought her a cheap drink. But no matter, at that point you had already hopped the fence, swaggered in as if you weren’t a depraved freshman, and maybe gotten her digits (They still call them digits… right?). However, after your forgotten night of passion, you may have woken up with a text that said something along the lines of, “Lykeee, yah.less D@te!!!” Far be it from me to interpret such a heinous message, but it looks like you might have missed your chance for some shenanigans. When that broad wakes up, she’s not gonna want to relive that night again with you, and even if you look as douchey as you can possibly make yourself (Read: Chet Haze), she’s going to use every drunken night as an attempt to oppress the thought of you. Bottom line: Keg-Girls will abuse you like you abused her inebriation.

You met her at an Occupy Wall Street rally
Don’t even fucking touch that unless you want your genitalia pepper-sprayed.

You met her in an Intro class
Chances are she’s either a desperate sophomore or a sleazy freshman. At most, test them through a series of hardcore study sessions in the African stacks or the reference section; otherwise you’ll be listing Catullus poems, Kafka references, and economic models that relate to your downward-spiraling romance.

You met her in high school
Good luck.

The Pippa Middleton of the U.S. Coast Guard

You met her at the nearby Coast Guard base
Firstly, what the fuck were you doing trolling that part of town? You have some issues, but more than that, why are you creating a relationship with a timeline? Obviously they’re gonna ship out soon. Maybe you want a uniformed hookup buddy. I can respect that. But odds are, you’re gonna be dealing with some drunkard that had too much fun at a Chicago bar and just wants a good man cushion to drool on in a dorm before heading back to the base. Let that ship sail man. (Pun totally intended)

You met her in the library. She has a Starbucks latte in a reusable mug, a Mac, and four colored highlighters.
You just met the number one dominatrix on this campus and by the end of one night, you never want to hear the words feather, tickle, riding crop, and sex in the same sentence. Most likely you’ll have to put that bitch in a pentagram and say some demonic prayer to get rid of her.

You met her at Whole foods as she was perusing the patchouli aisle.
Well, chances are you’ll have some crazy drug-induced-euphoric tantric sex, but other than that, the earthen crust that has taken root in your hair is starting to breed, and you’re not sure that the infestation is something even Morty can demolish with a few McCormick fellows.

And you thought "stagflation" only referred to economic growth...

You met her at Kellogg
You might have to pay for sex on a regular basis and suffer through economic diatribes and a lackluster emotional exchange. In fact, you might wonder if she even has a soul. If she’s thinking of a future in investment banking, it’s a lost cause.

You met her in the SPAC showers
Think about that sentence for just a moment. See why that’s a bad idea?

BUT DON’T WORRY! There are plenty of places to meet young women to date. Unfortunately, those places don’t exist on the NU campus, regardless of how pretty or effeminate those maidens might be. You’ll just have to suck it up and nurse yourself to sleep with one of those Asian girl body pillows and sugar plum dreams of Eleanor Kinkervoss.