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
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
“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
0-0:11 I CAN’T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU’RE SAYING. I THINK IT’S SOMETHING ABOUT NOODLES.
0:12-0:15 omg the noodles gave birth to a rainbow
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!?
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%
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.
Here’s to bipartisanship.
Brother Jürgen, please say you’ll still love me?
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*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.
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.
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:
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!!!
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
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 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 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.
The most hated white man in the league since Toni Kukoc
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.
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
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...
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.
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.
And it was fun, fun, fun, SO GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING FUN!!!!!
“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...
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"
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.
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
Caution: Some drinks will make you look like a massive pansy
Watch out for the Comm Majors
We hear she also has a thing for bloggers
We're also pretty sure that this little bastard is responsible for U.S. Debt and ever single Haitian natural disaster
Sherman Ave 