Tag Archives: Smirnoff

10 Events in World History That Totally Should Have Been Pregamed

2 Feb

There was once a time when history was regarded with reverence and esteem. Then the History Channel aired “Ice Road Truckers,” and since then, it has been hard for anyone to take history seriously. That being said, we still view history as an important part of our heritage that must be studied and understood. And by “studied and understood,” we of course mean “examined to establish which historical events would be funniest if all parties involved were shitfaced.” Here at Sherman Ave, history and drinking go together like, well, Mohawk rum and CVS-brand soda. Thus, we proudly present to you the 10 events in world history that totally should have been pregamed.

And you thought Northwestern students' Halloween costumes were offensive

10. The Travels of Marco Polo
As anybody who ever made the excruciating journey from the Keg to the mystical and foreign land of Burger King can attest, drunk adventures just tend to be more interesting than sober travels. Just imagine if Marco Polo had downed two bottles of wine before setting out from Venice! The young guido would probably embark on a series of raucous adventures throughout his travels, recording everything from his first encounters with Asian fusion cuisine in the land of Joy Yee to an ill-fated attempt to skinny dip in the Arabian Sea in an incomprehensibly ungrammatical text message sent to his roommate at three in the morning. The next day, Marco Polo would be way too hungover to feel dismayed by the revelation that, after being carried like three miles by his friends to the Yuan court, Polo used the sacred oil from Jerusalem entrusted to him by Gregory X to introduce the Mongolian Empire to waffle fries before promptly vomiting on Kublai Khan’s lap.

9. The Storming of the Bastille
On July 14, 1789, a bunch of disgruntled poor French people massed upon the Bastille, a large prison known for holding political prisoners. If you think about it, there are only three explanations for masses of people converging on a public place — they’re angry, they’re drunk, or they’re in the Jai Ho music video. Regrettably, seeing as the French were mostly angry in this scenario; they really should have been drunk. Simply compare the nature of angry public gatherings and drunken public gatherings. Angry public gatherings include Occupy Wall Street, Tiananmen Square, and Nazi book burnings. Drunken public gatherings include Snoop Dogg concerts, St. Patrick’s Day, and the celebration of Osama bin Laden’s death. You decide which you find preferable. Besides, A Tale of Two Cities would just be so much more interesting if Madame Lafarge was vomiting uncontrollably in every scene.

8. The Defenestration of Prague
Like anybody needs much provocation to drink in order to escape the infernal bleakness of Eastern Europe. But I usually do need to be at least a couple of shots of absinthe deep before I defend my religious freedom by shoving Catholics out of a third floor window into a pit of manure. Not to mention, a good pregame would have added a whole other layer to the term “getting shit-faced.”

Foam is beer!

7. The Crusades
Which Crusades? ALL OF THEM. ALL OF THE CRUSADES SHOULD HAVE BEEN PREGAMED. Okay, it’s like a road trip, but you can be as sloshy-slosh as you want, because you don’t have to worry about getting a DUI (unless the Holy Roman Empire stringently enforced horse-riding sobriety). Besides, there is no better instigator of belligerent shenanigans than Pope Urban II’s famous declaration, “God wills it!” That’s just asking to be misinterpreted for fratty purposes. Fifteen shots in an hour? God wills it! Eight consecutive kegstands? God wills it! Seriously, if someone walked up to me tomorrow and said “Hey, God wants us to get incredibly blitzed and then go ride a horse from Rome to Jerusalem,” I would instantly buy the necessary supplies. Then I’d probably proceed to buy a bible, to double-check the whole divine mandate thing.

6. Marx Writes the Communist Manifesto
Alcoholism becomes much easier when it’s supported by a good old-fashioned dialectical materialist ideology. A tipsy Marx after an unlucky game of Drunkopoly would undoubtedly replace his theories of Das Kapital with Das Boot, the class struggle with the timeless struggle for consciousness, and the stateless society the ideal of a pants-less society. His manuscript — hastily scrawled on the back of a cocktail napkin — would ignite rebels everywhere with its message, resulting in a series of idealistic revolutions calling for the redistribution of Miller High Life among the proletariat but rapidly degenerating into a dystopian shitshow of Adele lyrics in the gulag of Fran’s Cafe.

5. Hannibal Leading His Army Over the Alps
When I’m plastered, there are only two things I want: Guacamole and Elephants. I have some doubts about the guacamole rations in the Carthaginian army, but there were definitely some fucking elephants. They’re just so large! In that state of mind, it’s difficult to perceive objects larger than the distance between Burger King and 7/11. An elephant would just be mind-blowing. Furthermore, there are tons of fun activities to do in the Alps: skiing, snowboarding, sledding, making snow angels, having snowball fights with fellow Carthaginian soldiers, walking behind Hannibal and quietly muttering lines from “Silence of the Lambs,” etc. If someone just told me to march over an entire mountain range, I’d be pretty miffed, but if someone had me do a power hour and then said “Let’s go hiking!” I’d take the bait like a middle-aged housewife at Herman Cain’s mansion.

A thimblefull of tequila brings out her coquettish side

4. The Trial of Joan of Arc
Tensions might have ran high in the Rouen courtroom as the Maid of Orléans was tried for heresy, but that’s nothing a little Smirnoff chased by a slap can’t solve! If only the Bishop Cauchon had pregamed, the interrogation would have devolved from religious inquiry to a saucy game of “Never Have I Ever,” with questions mostly pertaining to Joan’s fantasies about the Dauphin and her penchant for cross-dressing. Joan of Arc will then famously proceed to declare to the courtroom, “I do not think I am in mortal sin, and if I am, it is for God and the priest in confession to know that I used the pages of Ezekial 23: 19-20 to roll the biggest joint Charles VII ever saw!” The trial would inevitably end with the pronouncement that the patron saint of France was “one righteous motherfucker” before burning her at the stake and cooking escargot over her smoldering ashes.

3. The Arrival of Cortez in Mexico
I’ll be the first to admit: When I’ve have too much to drink, I’m very friendly. Best friends are inundated with hugs, acquaintances are equally inundated with hugs, and the quiet Korean girl from my Econ discussion probably sustains a fairly serious spinal injury from the amount and magnitude of the hugs with which she is inundated. But even in all of my drunken affection, I very rarely greet a stranger and jump to the conclusion that they are the god Quetzalcoatl. There was that one time, but she had a very oddly proportioned face, and I couldn’t come up with any other explanation for it. Ultimately, Montezuma and his Aztec cronies should have heavily pregamed the arrival of Cortez, if for no other reason than to justify their absurd actions (just think if only Cortez had been entranced by the Aztec’s gold tequila rather than the golden buildings of Tenochtitlan). I’d have to be incredibly trashed to give a stranger the keys to the capital city of my civilization, even though I was once trashed enough to lock the keys in the car at 2:30 in the morning after drunkenly transporting a couch through several blocks of downtown Evanston.

2. The Construction of Stonehenge
Seeing as its pretty easy to build Stonehenge in the opening of Civilization IV, I can only assume that the Druids were pretty far gone when they built one the most complex monuments of the Stone Age. I mean, you’d kind of have to be three sheets to the wind to agree to lug 25-ton rocks from a Welsh quarry to some testament for the enterprising spirit of man. Assuming the Druids were drunk on mead, there are few explanations remaining for the memorial. My guess is that they either built a fast-food restaurant catering to students’ late-night culinary needs, or else a bar with a lax ID policy and stripper poles on the dance floor.

Drink every time a Russian model looks like this by the time she hits her mid-thirties?

1. Russia
You may not have ever thought to pregame an entire nation, but it seems like the only appropriate thing to do. I’d really like to isolate a single event in Russian history that needs to be pregamed more than the others, but that is simply a Sisyphean task. Conclusion: Nothing in or relating to Russia should ever involve sobriety. Therefore, instead of painstakingly listing every event in Russian history, I present to you: “History of Russia: The Drinking Game!”
• Drink every time Russia is invaded in the winter against the invader’s better judgment
• Drink every time a prominent politician is sent to a gulag
• Drink every time Brezhnev’s eyebrows appear in an intricate nightmare of yours
• Drink every time Putin shares an uncomfortably intimate moment with a wild animal
• Drink every time Tolstoy and/or Dostoevsky makes you lose faith in everything, LITERALLY EVERYTHING
• Drink every time Tchaikovsky tries to suppress his latent homosexuality
• Drink every time a Russian leader tries to expand executive power
o Drink twice if it’s Putin
• Waterfall from 1917-1991

Ross Packingham and Evander Jones

Bag Tax in Evanston?

15 Nov

Welcome to the People's Republic of Evanston

Earlier this week, the FWH, or “Fuckers We Hate” (formally known as the Evanston City Council) recently proposed a 5-cent tax on all paper and plastic bags in the city of Evanston. On campus, this has spawned controversy and inspired impromptu musical performances. Additionally, it has prolonged the FWH’s long-standing tradition of controversial taxes, laws, and ordinances; Evanston has managed to legislate something questionable with approximately the same frequency of Northwestern’s defense allowing a third-down conversion. This proposal leads us to wonder: How would a bag tax impact students?

It seems that for most students, a bag tax would have a minimal effect on their daily lives. Consider the stores in Evanston where we most frequently shop.

CVS
Usually students use CVS when they only need to pick up one item, like crayons or Magnums (I’m not referencing the firearm). Generally, the only time students need a bag to carry their items home would be in the case of what I call “Chaserpalooza” – a quarterly event in which four weeks of Kellogg studies are spent on 35-40 2-liter bottles of CVS brand soda, which, incidentally, tastes like fucking cough syrup. But even this is hardly valid as an argument against the bag tax; we here at The Ave know that the only real chaser you need is the palm of your hand.

Do 7/11 Taquitos go well with rum?

7/11
Let’s be honest. The guy who works the register at Sevy Levy (shout-out to Dijay) is undoubtedly stoned out of his mind every minute of every day. I’ve gone there at least five or ten times when he’s explicitly requested that I don’t pay the sales tax. The older guy who works there could attempt to prevent that, but he’s usually too busy singing “Moves Like Jagger.” The point is: Given the 7/11 staff, it seems implausible that a bag tax would actually be implemented at that store. But damn, do I love those employees.

EV1
Just as no student enters Ev1 without a backpack, no student leaves Ev1 with a paper bag. That would look suspicious. Instead, we choose to stuff our small backpacks with our four newly bought handles of Smirnoff and take to the streets of Evanston. That way, we get to maximize the number of awkward encounters we get to have with professors, TAs, and friends’ parents on the walk back to campus when there are clearly multiple conspicuous protruding objects clanging loudly in our bags.

A box of clementines for only $15!? WHAT A STEAL!

Whole Foods
If you shop regularly at Whole Foods, it is quite improbable that a 5-cent bag tax would be a financial burden, and it is even less probable that you would ever conceive of opposing an environmental measure.

We can conclude that a bag tax would not have adverse effects on the majority of the student body. This seems especially bizarre, considering that this ordinance was proposed by the Evanston City Council. And it doesn’t negatively affect the Northwestern student body. Am I missing something? Is there a hidden clause that taxes the verbalization of the word “blowjob?” Did Morty finally kill off the Death Eaters that had penetrated the city council? Only time shall tell how the Evanston City Council has secretly designed this law to completely fuck us.

Guess Who’s Back?

28 Jun

To be fair though, there were also a lot of overweight women wearing nothing but pasties.

Hello, Sherman Ave readers. Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Why hasn’t Sherman Ave written any articles in the past three months? How have I even made it this long without any new articles from Sherman Ave? Where did this maimed goat come from?” Well, fear not; our ever-victorious writing team is back for the summer of 2011 with more style and fervor than Lady Gaga at a gay pride parade (disclaimer: There were at least 80 or 90 Lady Gagas at Chicago’s gay pride parade). Yes, it was painful for us to take our hiatus, but spring quarter at Northwestern is a grueling journey, and the endless hours we spent studying and upholding Northwestern’s proud academic integrity made it kind of hard for us to be kick-ass journalists on the side.

But there’s no point in dwelling on the past. What matters is that we’re here now to thrust into you with our journalistic prowess. We’re more than prepared to insert our firm, powerful take on current events into your docile, yearning hands. So get ready, dearest audience, because in the words of the immortal pop culture icon Ke$ha, this summer “we goin’ hard, hard, hard, hard, hard, hard.”

Evanston in April

I think we can agree that you all deserve a recap of spring quarter at Northwestern University. Did I say spring quarter? What I meant was SWEET MOTHER OF ASS, WHY HASN’T IT WARMED UP YET quarter. Yes, the sultry skank of a temptress that is Chicago’s climate certainly slipped us a Rohypnol this year, keeping the weather consistently below 60°F. Oh, and in case you were wondering, that “F” doesn’t stand for “Fahrenheit”, it stands for “Fuck everyone and everything.” (Note: NOAA is currently trying to determine if there is a correlation between the cool climate and the absence of new Sherman Ave articles.) Fortunately, the weather did eventually warm up; Memorial Day was a gorgeous, sunny day with temperatures in the mid 80’s, and practically every single student spent the day enjoying the weather. If I had a nickel for every brutally awkward sunburn I saw the next day, I would be well on my way to paying for a single class at this unjustifiably expensive university.

I didn't fight a goddamn war for nothing, you know.

Speaking of classes at this unjustifiably expensive university, another hot topic of spring quarter was the cancellation of the Human Sexuality course for its use of a fucksaw (a word that should be making its way into the Oxford English Dictionary before too long) in a post-lecture demonstration. This puts me in a difficult place, because I really don’t like disagreeing with His Royal Highness Morton O. Schapiro (you may think I use the word “royal” sarcastically, but damn, the man loves his purple). However, I really don’t support the censorship of educational materials, and neither does the majority of the Northwestern student body. I don’t want to blow this out of proportion, but I know that our founding fathers would not have stood for the censorship of an entire field of study based solely on the use of a motorized dildo. Granted, they didn’t have motorized dildos back then, but they certainly had steam-powered ones.

Pre-gaming breakfast with a keg full of mimosa

As much as I’d like to picture Abigail Adams pleasuring herself with a sexual contraption, it’s more important to recount the highlight of spring quarter: Dillo Day. Dillo Day is a music festival at Northwestern that started in 1972, when six students from Texas decided it was necessary to honor the armadillo – an animal widely known for its keg stands, public urination, and drunken hook-ups. Waking up on the morning of Dillo is like waking up on Christmas; you know from the moment you open your eyes that your day will instantly be riddled with little treasures. Except on Christmas morning, those little treasures are wrapped gifts, whereas on Dillo, those little treasures are shots of Smirnoff that you’ll likely chase with a BK Breakfast Muffin. But that’s only the beginning of the day! The great thing about Dillo Day is that when you’re already drunkenly belting The Script at 8:45am, you have an entire day of unforeseeable events awaiting you. This year, we were lucky enough to have such musical artists as New Pornographers (a group I vaguely remember enjoying), Peter Bjorn and John (I don’t know, just Google them), and B.O.B. – a hip-hop artist whose talent is surpassed only by his douchebaggery, and most other people’s talent.

It’s difficult to give a valid account of Dillo Day, because Dillo Day experiences are like snowflakes; they are all unique in their own various ways, but ultimately, they all come together to form one giant clusterfuck that deeply frustrates the Evanston community.

After Dillo Day, we had ahead of us only a measly two weeks. That being said, it was a two weeks of final papers, final exams, final projects, final straws with TAs (I mean really, why the hell would a grad student studying political science be the TA for a Russian literature class?), and final goodbyes for the summer. And that was it! Now it’s time for a summer full of serenading you, our readers, with our brilliance. Prepare yourselves, because Sherman Ave is putting on its skin-tight leather pants and blasting Katy Perry’s “Firework”, and when that happens, God knows what will follow.

Ross Packingham