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Tag Archives: Rebecca Black

Mayfest Announces Rebecca Black, Female, As Dillo Day Headliner

16 Mar

EVANSTON, Il.—Mayfest spokesman announced early Friday morning that, as per Google Doc request, the Dillo Day headliner will be Rebecca Black, a female.

“After seeing a link to a Google Doc that read ‘BRING A FEMALE ARTIST TO DILLO DAY’ throughout our newsfeed,” Mayfest spokesman Connor Dart said, “we decided Continue reading

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Alison Gold to Release “Japanese Food” Single in Response to Rebecca Black’s “Saturday”

8 Dec

BOCA, Fl. – It was announced today by PatoMuzic that Alison Gold will be releasing a new song, titled “Japanese Food,” after the rampant success of Rebecca Black’s new song “Saturday.”

via bonappetite.com

via bonappetite.com

“The decision was an obvious one,” Gold said in an exclusive interview with Sherman Ave[1].  “After we saw that a one-hit wonder like [Black] could turn around and produce an even better song, I went right back to the studio to do what I do best: bubblegum pop featuring inaccurate yet equally crude racial stereotypes.” Continue reading

WTF is going on with Alison Gold’s ‘Chinese Food’ music video

15 Oct

0-0:11 I CAN’T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU’RE SAYING. I THINK IT’S SOMETHING ABOUT NOODLES.

Untitled

0:12-0:15 omg the noodles gave birth to a rainbow

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Continue reading

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.

525,600 p-trips: A look back at Year 1 of the Shermanavian Calendar

26 Jan

We hear founding stories and histories almost every day – “George Washington won this battle,” “Paul Revere made that ride,” “Thomas Jefferson boinked those slaves,” etc.  But today’s founding story is something much more substantial and heroic than most.  So squeeze yourself into that zebra-print speedo, pour yourself a quad-shot of Jameson, and take a seat, because TODAY IS SHERMAN AVE’S FIRST BIRTHDAY!

Look away, Winnie the Pooh. You don't want to see this.

We all remember our first birthday.  Actually, none of us remember our first birthday, but we’ve always just assumed that it consisted primarily of cupcakes and self-defecation.  And here at Sherman Ave, we intend to celebrate our birthday in the same way.  But instead of cupcakes, we have strippers, and instead of self-defecation, we have…wait, just kidding, we will definitely have self-defecation.

However, since our readers span far and wide and not all of them can come celebrate our anniversary with us, we want to celebrate with our readers by reflecting on Sherman Ave’s first year.  Thus, without any further ado, I present to you:  An exhaustive timeline of Sherman Ave’s history!

C. 10,000 BC:  Archaeological evidence points to the first alcoholic beverages.  Although it came about several millennia before any of Sherman Ave writers squirmed out of the womb, this invention would greatly motivate, inspire, and ultimately humiliate the writing staff.

July 2, 1776:  The Declaration of Independence is signed, establishing America’s separation from the pretentious twattitude of the British Empire.  This country would go on not only to host the birth of every Sherman Ave writer (with the exception of Señorita Margarita Puñeta Fellatiata, who was obviously born in Egypt), but the core values of free speech, free press, and free heinousness would create a fostering environment for Sherman Ave.

He's wearing the Demos jersey only as an admirable form of self-discipline.

December 16, 2008:  Morton O. Schapiro is named the 16th president of Northwestern University.  At this point, little was known about the man’s past, but the whole world would soon know of Morty’s legend: his unthinkable assortment of purple attire, his supreme lordship over the Evanston City Council, and, of course, his massive, massive dong.

October 14, 2010:  On this fateful evening in Evanston, Illinois, Ross Packingham and Evander Jones meet in a way that only true heroes do:  Drunkenly skinny-dipping in Lake Michigan and subsequently running from the police.

January 26, 2011:   Sherman Ave is founded.  What began with a review of an awesome rap hit single would soon evolve into the biggest power-trip that has graced the world since Idi-Amin was in power.

February 14, 2011:  Rebecca Black’s viral music video, “Friday,” is released on YouTube.  While the song wouldn’t go viral for a few more weeks, its existence aided and perpetuated the kind of rampant heinousness to which Sherman Ave dedicates itself.

February 21, 2011:   Professor John Michael Bailey rocks/vibrates/indefinitely turns off the Northwestern student body with a sexual demonstration involving a fucksaw.  While no member of Sherman Ave has yet been fucksawed (“yet” being the operative word – President’s Day is often a gamechanger), this incident was basically a gift to Sherman Ave, and we have made a concerted effort to reference fucksaws in every article we possibly can.

Getting fucksawed? Or having sex dreams about Sherman Ave?

March 28, 2011:  Sir Edward Twattingworth III posts an article about a recent experience encountering Our Lord and Savior Morty Schapiro in Paris.  This event would become something about which Sir T-Worth power-trips on an hourly basis.

July 1-3, 2011:  Evander Jones, Blaise Bernard, Ross Packingham, Sir Twattingworth, Ginger LeatherDream, and their friend Jessica go to Michigan to enjoy a leisurely weekend and soulful celebration of America’s independence.  What resulted from this gathering was exactly what one would expect:

  • ·         A three hour time period spent heavily intoxicated in a 100-degree barn
  • ·         Recreation of classic American art
  • ·         A photograph of Ross Packingham and Evander Jones emulating Jack and Rose from “Titanic”
  • ·         Blaise Bernard wielding a butcher’s knife and preparing dinner, despite her inability to form coherent sentences
  • ·         Vomit
  • ·         The emergence of the word “heinous”

Ross Packingham non-verbally proclaims his love for patriotic cookie cakes.

August 10, 2011:  Evander Jones begins the Sherman Ave Freshman Guide – a series of articles that would corrupt freshmen from all walks of life, and also (more importantly) help Sherman Ave get off the ground by appealing exclusively to an alcohol-deprived demographic.

October 25, 2011:  Generation II takes its place, as Sherman Ave brings on seven new writers.  Sadly, the writers did not know at that point that they were only entering a long and grueling initiation process which may or may not have included facial contact with a 14-inch gummy worm dildo.

January 24, 2012:  Ross Packingham and Evander Jones submit paperwork for what many call an “apartment”; the request would probably not be processed if the landlord had even the slightest notion of what is implied by “Sherman Ave Headquarters.”

Morty, Sherman Ave's communal pet.

January 26, 2012:   Sherman Ave turns one.  Not a big deal or anything.  OH WAIT, JUST KIDDING, WE’RE GOING TO BE POWER-TRIPPING RELENTLESSLY FOR ETERNITY.

Thanks for a great year, readers.  We’ll continue to supply you all with articles, as long as you continue to supply us with narcissistic validation.  Happy birthday!!!

2011 Sherman Ave Reader’s Poll: Results

19 Jan

With 122 responses and a wide variety of exceedingly gruesome responses,* we were absolutely thrilled with the success of this year’s poll. So, after much anticipation (drumroll please), we present to you: RESULTS!

The hanging chad of our generation

Most Heinous Event of 2011
With 24% of the vote, the winner was: Rebecca Black’s “Friday” Strikes Youtube. This is undoubtedly the most atrocious non-majority victory we’ve seen since November 2000.

Best Place to Find and Enjoy a Hookup
Also with 24% of the vote, the winner was: A Frat House. Notable write-ins include “Baby Bash ski trip concert” and “Deer season in Indiana.” Surprisingly enough, nobody mentioned Sherman Ave HQ…

Favorite Sherman Ave personality?
With 30% of the vote, the winner was: Sir Edward Twattingworth III. We at the Ave have not a shred of doubt that this will result in a power-trip of unprecedented magnitude, but with Sir T-Worth, we’re used to it. Anything less than Putin-esque levels of self-aggrandizement would be a disappointment.

Best Song of 2011
With 15% of the vote, the winner was: “Someone Like You” by Adele. This can easily be understood by anyone who has ever been within a 5-mile radius of any intoxicated Sherman Ave writer. Or felt love.

Most Mouthgasms per Bite
With 33% of the vote, the winner was: Hot Cookie Bar. Notable write-ins include “your mom” and “Pippa Middleton.”

DAMN YOU HIPSTERS FOR RUINING THE BEANIE FOR ME!!!!

Best Coffee Shop
With 52% of the vote, the winner was: Kafein. This would probably not go over well with one of the respondents who wrote in the answer, “Hipsters are sub-humans.” Ross Packingham intends to use this landslide victory as a clear mandate to bring his Buddhism-influenced beat poetry to Kafein’s stage, supported by Brother Jürgen and Eleanor Kinkervoss on the bongos while Evander Jones attacks the chastity belt around his waist with a chain saw. Sadly, it will only the fourth-most heinous act on stage at that week’s open mic.

Best Place to Get Intoxicated in Public
With 27% of the vote, the winner was: Cozy Noodles. Among the many notable write-ins were: “Barnes and Noble,” “10am MENU class,” and “sidewalk.”

Best A Cappella Group
With 26% of the vote, the winner was: There is no such thing as a good a cappella group. A ruefully valid statement indeed.

Best Movie of 2011
With 29% of the vote, the winner was: Harry Potter 7.2. Notable write-ins include Twilight: Breaking Hymen and Pippa Middleton, both of which feature Morty Schapiro and Kate Upton in starring roles.

Best TV Show of 2011
With 17% of the vote, the winner was: How I Met Your Mother. Apparently people identify with drunken assholes frittering away the golden years of their lives chasing after unsatisfactory one-night stands. Far and away, the most heinous write-in was: “Is The Hills still on? I pick The Hills.”

Please Describe Morty Schapiro in 10 Words or Less
This one was actually too much for us to emotionally process. Top answer: “Why limit it to fewer words than his penis length?” Maybe once Ross Packingham’s poetry career takes off, maybe he’ll compose a sonnet using only these responses and youtube video comments.

What’s Up the Evanston City Council’s Ass?
With 35% of the vote, the winner was: a 14-inch dildo made of molten gummy bears. If that’s not already true, it can certainly be arranged.

Ever wonder how I got the name "Packingham?"

What is your Gender?
With 58% of the vote, the winner was: Female. AWWWWWW YEAHHHHHH!!!! Hey ladies, how’d you like to spend the night with the fourth-most popular Northwestern-centric blog? No?** Haaaaaaave you met Manua?

What Brings You to Sherman Ave?
With a staggering 70% of the vote, the winner was: Facebook. Needless to say, notable write-ins included “Pippa Middleton” and “all of your fucking Facebook posts.”

In conclusion, a huge thank you goes out to everyone who took this poll. We couldn’t do it without you. We hope that you were pleased with our unnecessary heinousness in 2011, and we will do everything in our power to take it to the next level in 2012. Most importantly, we’re comforted to see in the responses that the people who read Sherman Ave are just about as fucked up as the people who write for it.

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*Allowing for a standard error of approximately 69%.
**Fun Fact: The first time Sherman Ave was ever used as a potential pickup line occurred in line for the bathroom at an off-campus party. It was not successful.

Other Things David Stern Should Veto

12 Dec

The most hated white man in the league since Toni Kukoc

When sports journalists heard about the NBA Commissioner’s probably ill-advised decision to veto a trade that would’ve sent New Orleans point guard Chris Paul to the Lakers, they practically pooped themselves with rage, railing about the end of the NBA with an apocalyptic despair that would’ve made Harold Camping proud. When I heard about the NBA’s decision, all I could think about was the goodness that could be accomplished by extending David Stern’s veto power, trigger-happy finger, and ‘screw it, I don’t care if I ruin the seasons of three teams’ attitude into other walks of life. Here are the fruits of that aforementioned thinking:

1. Rick Perry’s Presidential Campaign
Here at Sherman Ave we love Rick Perry. Oh wait, no we fucking don’t. No one in their right minds could ever stand to be in the same room, much less vote for, that intolerable shitmuffin. It now seems utterly ridiculous that people as intelligent as Mike Murphy actually thought that Perry could win the Republican nomination. Well, they were about as wrong as Custer’s last words. If only David Stern had stepped forward in August to stop this embarrassing shitshow of a campaign from ever launching.

His dreams were crushed by David Stern. M. Night Shyamalan's should be, too.

2. M. Night Shyamalan’s ability to make movies
So The Sixth Sense was maybe kind of okay. But I dare anyone to make it through The Happening without puking in a biological attempt to reject the atrocity from staying with you. Shyamalan made only one or two movies that could ever be considered ‘good,’ and everything since then has been so unbearably atrocious that Shaymalan should be prevented from ever tainting our eyes with such heinousness again. Unfortunately, the good people at Disney (and by “good people” I of course mean “stupid fucktards”) just keep signing off on his movies. Let’s get Stern in there to crush them the way he crushed Chris Paul’s dreams.

3. No Shave November
I’ll be honest, this year I tried doing No Shave November for the entire month, to see once and for all if I could really grow a beard. I can’t. And I’ve got news for everyone else who has tried it: you can’t either. You do look like an atrocious hobo, though. Congrats. Scumbag Steve would be horrified by your hygiene. Now let’s please agree to never do No Shave November again.

4. New Rebecca Black songs

Rosa Parks' personal hero

Katy Perry has no regrets — only love — about going all the way tonight. I have the same feelings about Rebecca Black’s “Friday.” Yes, it’s horrible, and yes, it probably shouldn’t exist, and yes, it speaks to some very heinous problems at the base of our modern society, but god damn is it funny. I’m glad it exists, and those two weeks where everyone in America absolutely refused to talk about anything else were just awesome. I feel bad for the hypothetical children I may or may not give birth to in the future because they will never have the experience of waiting at midnight for the release of Harry Potter books or movies, and I feel bad for them because they will never have the experience of going to school on March 18, 2011 (the Friday after the song came out) when everyone everywhere was singing “It’s Friday, Friday, GOTTA GET DOWN ON FRIDAY.” For two weeks it was fun to laugh, at the insipid songwriting, at the random rap verse that doesn’t make sense, at the problems with modern celebrity culture, but then those two weeks were over and we all moved on. DIDN’T WE?????

Apparently not. Apparently the ARK Music Factory thought that when 268,000 people disliked the “Friday” video, that meant “we love this, give us more please.” I hate to be the one to break this to you, Patrice Wilson, but when 268,000 people disliked the “Friday” video, it means they didn’t like it. At first, Rebecca Black was sad and kind of funny. Now she’s just sad.

5. Bill O’Reilly’s book about Lincoln
The only thing more ridiculous than the sentence “Bill O’Reilly wrote a book about the Lincoln assassination” is the sentence “Bill O’Reilly wrote a book about the Lincoln assassination that wasn’t true.” Yes. We live in a fucked up world. And while I think we have all accustomed ourselves to Fox News’s ridiculous excuse for news coverage, we don’t need them fucking up history as well. That’s Ross Packingham’s favorite subject!

6. “Ultimatum” by Jeph Loeb
If you’re a normal person, then it probably doesn’t mean anything to you when I say that Jeph Loeb fucked up the Ultimate Universe, but he did, and it is an intolerable atrocity.

Something doesn't seem right...

Quick nut graf: shortly after the dawn of the new millennium, Marvel Comics attempted to reinvigorate interest in their brand by creating an offshoot label, dubbed the Ultimate Universe, where they relaunched characters like Spider-Man and the X-Men as if their 40 year history didn’t exist, and the characters had been created in the year 2000. It worked. The stories were great, and their modern reworking of occasionally anachronistic Sixties concepts had a huge influence on Marvel’s later movie adaptations.

But in the year 2008, Marvel executives handed the creative reins of the Ultimate Universe to Jeph Loeb. It seemed like a sensible decision, as Loeb had won acclaim writing Batman at DC Comics. But whereas Loeb had done well on Batman with a strategy of utilizing Batman’s colorful cast and intriguing antihero sensibility, his plan for Ultimate Marvel was a little more like “destroy everything and kill every character.” His miniseries “Ultimatum” was basically a giant shit all over the Ultimate Universe, whose comics had helped spike my interest in the medium and which I still give to people who mention an interest in comic books, and I can no more forgive him for that than Eddie Murphy can forgive SNL for making one joke about him once.

And most importantly…

My First Quarter Grades
More important than any of the other things combined. I must admit, I got so caught up in college heinousness this quarter that I didn’t exactly get Will Hunting grades. Sure, it’s not like I stayed up past 2 am sequestered in the library every night of reading week preparing for my Ancient Philosophy final, but if Stern could have some words with Morty re: my grades, that would be dandier than Sebastian Flyte.

If that isn’t a convincing reason for giving David Stern a time machine and being done with it, I don’t know what is.

Five Things Not To Do While Making Out

7 Dec

Avoid Canadian rioters at all cost.

So it’s a Saturday night. You’ve been nursing many-a-can of PBR over the course of the night. You see a lovely looking potential lover across the Keg dance floor right behind the stripper pole. They shoot you an inviting stare with their glazed eyes. This is it: You’re about to engage in a forgettable night of passion with your sweetheart and only your 200 closest friends, acquaintances, and Keg bouncers looking on. Here are some things to avoid in order to make sure your venture into the mouth of another person goes swimmingly.

5. Attempt to Check Your Phone
Judging by the fact that you’re reading about making out online, chances are you do not have anyone deep inside your mouth very often. So because this is a very rare occasion, you should probably take some time to appreciate it and maybe stay off your phone for a few minutes (because God knows how long this person is going to tolerate you slipping your tongue towards their esophagus). I know that you’re excited to get that text from your mom about the new Zelda game arriving — and you should be, it’s bomb as fuck; however, you can probably wait until after you’ve completed your mastication of another human being’s mouth before you find out when you’ll be able to fight the Demon Lord, Ghirahim.

Mind if I suck your neck until small blood vessels burst under your skin?

4. Maul Your Significant Other’s Neck
Since we’re on the subject of consumption, I must advise that you control your primal urges and do not eat your partner’s neck. Maybe you watch a lot of Twilight(in which case, you may want to evaluate how you spend your time before you make any physical contact with another human being again), or maybe you just thought it was a good idea to experiment with bear mating rituals. Either way, stop. After their heinous encounter with you, people should not question if your lover has been viciously mauled by a carnivorous animal. I know you might be hungry, and her neck may smell good, but please don’t unhinge your jaw and latch onto her. You’re doing both of you a favor.

3. Moan
A make-out session is no time to unleash the walrus groan you’ve been practicing. There’s no bigger turn-off than releasing a passionate whimper or wanton squeal on an unsuspecting person. Save those noises for your self-gratification time when nobody else has to hear them — except for everyone around you in the SPAC showers.

2. Get Handsy
Listen guys, I know you’re excited. You’re kissing a real girl with real boobs and everything. Your parents are very proud of you, as am I. Now saying that, keep your goddamn hands to yourself. Since you first discovered those magical things attached to the front of the females body, you’ve probably desired nothing more than to go to Boobtown. However, Boobtown is a gated-neighborhood and you’re only allowed in by invitation — so just calm yourself and enjoy the fact that a person with those mystical possessions has let you anywhere near them.

"Oh boy, I sure hope you look this good when I'm sober!"

1. Talk
This goes for all people. There is only one thing that can ruin a perfectly good drunken hook-up: words coming out of your mouth. Nobody cares that this is your first time making out with someone on top of a hay bale, or that your ex-boyfriend never once looked you in the eyes when you kissed. You keep those sad little details to yourself. Remember, you are nothing more than a body with a mouth to your partner in primal satisfaction. Your feelings and thoughts mean as much to them as Rebecca Black’s new songs mean to the situation in Libya (I still love you RB).

Follow this advice and you too can have a beautifully heinous night of animalistic pleasure.

I’m sorry I made fun of Rebecca Black

14 Aug

And it was fun, fun, fun, SO GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING FUN!!!!!

When Rebecca Black’s “Friday” video first debuted, I was among its harshest and most persistent critics. Even this esteemed website pounced on the unabashed heinousness of the video. I was quite proud of my ability to completely and totally eviscerate that power-tripping adolescent at any turn.

“Oh, today’s Thursday,” I’d say, a sly grin stretching across my face. “Wonder what day tomorrow is? Better ask that hoe Rebecca Black, amirite guys?!”

Got a laugh every time. And as Rebecca’s 15 seconds of infamy faded away, I worked tirelessly to resurrect it. I showed Brock’s Dub to everyone I knew.

“MY HAND IS A DOLPHIN!” I bellowed originally. My friends found it equally hilarious, I’m sure, so I continued to mock the video.

But the fact of it was, I was always mainly mocking the video itself. My hatred was never aimed at the girl involved; I assumed she was likely just a 13-year-old who had been sucked into the collective p-trips of her parents and that excruciatingly talented producer/rapper whose name I am too disgusted to Google. We’ll just call him Fat Usher.

So as I mocked and lawled and gleefully took part in the collective national destruction of Rebecca Black, I did it with my true hatred directed at the adults who had put poor Rebecca in that position. As her Good Morning America appearance demonstrated, while she is outrageously far from being a professional-caliber singer, her voice is not THAT horrendous. Anyone would sound less than prime while belting out the lines “my friend is by my right, heyyyy.”

Kids these days...

Yet today I regret that I did any of it. Even though I meant only to emotionally cripple her parents and Fat Usher — who I know were listening to my every critique, lips trembling — I must admit that I have contributed to the bullying of an adolescent girl from another state. And I had promised myself I would stop doing that.

That bullying culminated this week in the news that Rebecca was leaving her school and being home schooled due to the incessant teasing by her schoolmates.

This, my friends, is too far. If we have become a nation where untalented little children can’t spend thousands of dollars on music videos, post them on the YouTubez in the hopes of getting famous, and go on a nationwide tour of talk and morning shows without being teased by their peers, then we have lost all that makes America great! This kind of mean-spirited behavior is probably why Pippa Middleton is still British.

And I know what you’re thinking: “But Rebecca Black got to touch Katy Perry!” And while this is certainly true, it doesn’t mean that she isn’t still capable of having feelings. Russell Brand probably touches Katy Perry often, and it’s hard to imagine a world in which he doesn’t cry himself to sleep every night.

So, cut the crap America. Specifically, cut the crap you students of Rebecca Black’s school. There’s a fine line between good-heinous and bad-heinous, and those kids just obliterated the line like Michele Bachmann obliterates the line between hot and terrifying on a daily basis.

Amateur attempt at photoshopping with spare "bullying a 13-year-old time"

There are plenty of other things to do in life besides bully Rebecca Black. Like Photoshopping yourself into photos you weren’t originally in! Or tweeting with the hashtag #replacebandnameswithpancakes! Or listening to Demi Levato’s new song “Skyscraper”…you can just feel the pain in her voice.

But the bottom line is this: go live your lives Sherman Ave readers. Live them well and heinously. And for Yahweh’s sake, LEAVE REBECCA BLACK ALONE.

5 Ways to Cope With the Heat

23 Jul

Balls all over, is it hot outside or is it hot outside?! It’s a sad day when a mere 10-minute walk turns into a Hero’s Journey-esque adventure in which one must face great adversity and discover their true self. With this weather, the immediate instinct is to spend every day standing naked in front of your $15 air conditioning unit, but unfortunately, summer is also the time to have fun. Fear not! We have compiled a list of ways you can bypass the heat and still enjoy the season.

Java the Hut knew what's up

5. Invest in Slaves
Obviously the word “slave” has acquired somewhat of a stigma in the last few hundred years, but trust me, you will not regret this decision. Whether it’s getting your groceries or carrying you to a friend’s place, it will be exceptionally relieving to have your daily menial tasks performed by others. Worried about being controversial? There are still ways to be a slave-owner. For example, most college students are willing to enter in a contract of servitude, asking for nothing but free alcohol. Furthermore, your neighbors wouldn’t ever be suspicious of forced labor – they’d just assume you were getting a lot of action. If you can’t catch yourself a college student, try a younger child. Granted, child slavery is discouraged in many social circles, but the best part of slave children is that they’re your slaves and your children, and thankfully, our society rarely protects children from their parents.

Caution: Some drinks will make you look like a massive pansy

4. Drink
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my freshman year of college, it’s that drinking solves everything – macroeconomics finals notwithstanding. Russians notoriously consume copious quantities of vodka to cope with their frigid climate, so why can’t we do the same for our scorching climate? Worst case scenario, you drink yourself unconscious and earn yourself a trip to the cool, air-conditioned emergency room. Besides, if you drink enough, you can take the heat on headfirst and emerge victorious. The doucheriffic Heat Lords think they’ve got you beat, but they won’t know what hit them when you and your friends spontaneously skip to Burger King despite the outrageous temperatures. In this case, it’s about more than just surviving the heat, it’s about vanquishing it. If you’re looking for more pointers in this area, I’d consult the Dallas Mavericks; they know a thing or two about making the Heat their bitch.

Watch out for the Comm Majors

3. Skinny Dip
In most cases, the feeling of ice-cold water on the genitals is something that can only be likened to the Dementor’s Kiss. However, desperate times call for desperate measures, and desperate measures call for pelvic coolage (surprisingly not the long-lost brother of our 30th president). So next time you want to take a shower, kick it up a notch and go balls-deep in Lake Michigan. Don’t live near Lake Michigan? Not a problem, just go balls-deep in the nearest body of water. Caution to our readers in South America: If you choose to skinny-dip in the Amazon, for the love of God, be careful. Just be careful. Dear mother of God. Don’t urinate. Just don’t do it. Think of the children. No level of heat is worth sacrificing your junction (junk’s function). I don’t even want something of that horrific magnitude to happen to those taint-lovers in Brazil and Uruguay.

We hear she also has a thing for bloggers

2. Stalk Attractive People
For registered sex offenders like myself, the last few months have been absolutely clutch in that they have uncovered some of the world’s most attractive people. Think about it – a mere 6 months ago, the world was unaware of stunning babes like Pippa Middleton, Hope Solo, Casey Anthony Michele Bachmann Rebecca Black and anyone else who plays on the U.S. Women’s Soccer team. What better way to spend your summer than lounging in an air-conditioned place and learning every minute detail about the lives of these slampieces? For example, I have learned this summer that Pippa Middleton has admitted to being attracted to average-looking half-Jewish left-handed kids from Colorado – a category in which I fit into quite nicely. See, these are good things to know. You may call me things like “weirdo” and “rapist,” but…well never mind, you’ve got a point.

We're also pretty sure that this little bastard is responsible for U.S. Debt and ever single Haitian natural disaster

1. Blame Minorities for the Heat
As has been proven time and again throughout the annals of history, the best way to resolve any problem is by making it someone else’s problem. And the best part of this tactic is that any minority can work! Responsibility for any unfavorable happening is always easily placed on the backs of the Irish, Germans, Irish, Italians, Canadians, Irish, Latvians, or even the Irish. It may not lower the temperatures, but it certainly makes it easier to cope with when you can just angrily shout something like “GOD DAMN NEW ZEALANDERS MAKING EVERYTHING SO DAMN HOT!” Actively discriminating against said minority would be even more satisfying, but since it’s so stupidly hot outside, discrimination might tire you. However, if you heeded my first piece of advice, you should already have a whole army of slaves to go discriminate against minorities on your behalf.