Keg Week 2013: The Eulogy

Tonight, we’re popping popcorn in your honor.

One week ago Sunday, The Keg of Evanston closed its doors for the very last time. Tonight we conclude our Keg Week 2013 with what may–for better or worse–be the very last article we ever post about TKOE.

At this point, more words have been spilled over that shit-hole Evanston bar than Bud Light out of a big cup. Don’t worry, this epitaph will be about as brief as a dance floor hookup, and hopefully a shade less awkward.

Think of all the geographic locations pertaining to Northwestern. The Arch. The Rock. The Frat Quad. The Black House. Willard. Searle Hall. The Lakefill. Tech. Norris. Ryan Field. The Steam Tunnels. Deering. CVS. The Howard El Stop. That One Bench You Totally Made Out On With Your PA.

Keg Week 2013: A Hypothetical Timeline of Tonight At The Keg

Tonight is a Monday night. Not just that, it is the Monday night before a new quarter begins. This should be The Keg’s time to shine; instead, thanks to the relentless wrath of Lizzy Tizzy, there is no Keg.

But don’t think that means there is no hope! In fact, as part of our court-ordered community service for “shitting on every building at U of C” we’ve decided to run through a timeline of what tonight would have held, had TKOE been open for heinous:

Home is where the hein is.

9:34pm: A group of freshmen who have never been to The Keg arrive, WildCards in hand, to see what all the fuss is about. No one else is there yet. There is no doorman. “I thought this was the place to be!” exclaims one Ayers resident.

10:18pm: The popcorn machine comes to life by its own volition, signaling the beginning of Keg Monday. Employees start to trickle in and wipe up Saturday’s vomit.

What to Expect on Gone Greek Night

Sorostitutes:

Part 1: Singing.  You know your songs. YOUR CHAPTER HAS THE BEST DAMN SONGS IN THE ENTIRE QUAD. Even if the lyrics seem like they were written by Tommy Wiseau, sing them with pride. If you sound stupid, you’ll sound stupid in solidarity. And let’s face it, stupidity in numbers is almost never shameful.

Those songs are the closest to hazing NU sororities will ever come. So if you’re uncomfortable, go chill with a sister elsewhere. Seriously. Nobody’s going to judge you because you don’t want to sing songs about how whorish you are. And it’s likely nobody’s going to notice your absence because you’re new and no one knows to ask where you are yet. So if you’re weirded out by weird lines or choreography, pretend you need to leave temporarily to go get special hypoallergenic tampons from Elder. Or something.

If you're presented with roses arranged like this, you may want to avoid the fratstar responsible for it.

If you’re awkward about receiving roses (like me), don’t put them down on a chair and pretend like you don’t have any (like me), because boys will think you actually don’t have any and they will give you more and you will have an awkward bouquet at the end of the night, and you will realize very slowly that it’s not because they find you attractive but rather because they see you have none in your hand and are either taking pity or priming you for a later hookup, and only you will know this, and you can’t/don’t explain that to any of your new sisters giving you the stinkeye because they will not understand and also because you kinda want them to think you looked especially hot and deserved the roses (no seriously I don’t know anyone who that happened to). If you’re kind of person who brags about receiving roses…don’t. In fact, drop now, you’re clearly obnoxious.

Part 2: Dancing.  We’ll be saying this again on Dillo, but pace yourself if you’re drinking. Clearly the class of 2015 has issues with this (how many hospitalizations did you have fall quarter?) Don’t get super-trashed on the bus and be vomming on the dance floor the rest of the night, because you will probably get sent home, the Sober Sister sharing your cab will probably resent you, and the likeliness that you will hook up is literally nil. Also, treat your location with respect. You really don’t want to be That Guy.* Don’t make people hate you before you even finish pledging yet.

Gone Greek Night?

As I said earlier, you’re new and no one knows to check up on you yet. So find a buddy if you don’t want to hook up. That said, HAVE FUN. Remember those nights where you have to try to find someone who wants to hook up? Not tonight. Everyone’s single on GGN. Unless you’re not, in which case, don’t be a cheating bitch. Otherwise, go crazy, hon. If there was ever a night where you wanted to know how it feels to wake up in some random fratty’s dorm trying to remember whether the bra you were wearing matched your panties, and are they in the same location, and where that location may  be – go for it. You’ll be sharing stories later. Have a good one.

Or you could pull the Classy Ellie K move, which involves sleeping (no actually, just sleeping) in your awesome superchill super-cozy guy friend’s dingle, waking up sans hangover and going to the house because they have the best granola (which, unless you’re in my sorority, your house doesn’t have the best granola. Sorry).

So in short, don’t expect anything. Have a fun and safe time, represent your chapter- and most importantly, don’t get caught.

Pledges: Get ready to stumble! This is your chance to impress the ladies, sing your heart out and binge drink on a Friday afternoon. You’ll probably start your night pregaming with some brothers or just with your pledge class. Make sure to get absolutely crunk but not so bad that you can’t find the DG house. Once you’re done taking handle pulls in the daylight, you go sing to them fine sorority chicks. Usually, you’ll put their name in a song to make them all feel just so special and unique! Try “We found love in a __(sorority name)__-less place,” that should make them all love you.

NO SEX ON THE DANCE FLOOR, REGARDLESS OF THE LEVEL OF CONSENT

Throughout the night you’ll have roses to bestow onto all the bitchez you wish to make intercourse at. Try to give them out to your friends so that no one knows about your plan to make intercourse at the other ones. At some point in the night you’ll go to the house of the sorority you’re paired with for a nice meal. Eat dat shit. It’ll sober you up and allow you to remember the night (pro tip: Don’t shovel the food into your mouth as fast as you can and demand seconds, thirds, fourths, fifths, sixths and sixty-ninths. You’ll look like a pig).  Once the singing part is over, you can let loose and have some fun. Buses generally leave for the bar from the sorority quad near the house of the sorority you’re paired with between 7:30 and 8:30 p.m. Go to the bar. Take some awesome shooters with some awesome friends. Soak up each other’s awesomeness. Get kicked out of the bar. Hook up with some hawt girlz . BUT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON’T HAVE SEX ON THE DANCEFLOOR. PEOPLE REMEMBER THAT SHIT. That’s all I have to say.

Frat bros: Okay, we remember freshman year, right? Don’t do that shit. Keep it in control, bro. Just take a few shots, dance your ass off and DON’T HAVE SEX ON THE DANCEFLOOR. WHY HAS NO ONE FORGOTTEN THAT SHIT.  Other than that, your night has a lot less pressure. You just dress up, pregame and head to the buses. There’s a pretty good chance you’ll pregame at Cozy or some other fine BYOB establishment in Evanston. This is a great way to cover up your alcohol dependency but be warned: everyone else had the same idea and crowds are more than likely.  One final note: GGN isn’t really about you. It’s a chance for the new pledge classes to scope each other out, feel uncomfortable and try not to vomit. So have fun and get wild, but you should probably avoid bursting in during the middle of a song for a solo. I’m sure you sound great singing “Someone Like Gamma Phi” but everyone will be weirded out.

Other rule: Drink every time Chewbacca and Han Solo "have a moment"

GDI’s: This is not the most fun weekend for a non-Greek but that doesn’t mean you can’t find ways to make it interesting. True, there are generally no open frat parties Friday night (and few on Saturday) but that hardly means you can’t get schwastey. Try a drinking game! There are plenty of fun one, like battleshots or Mean Girls. I would advise STRONGLY against the Star Wars Drinking Game, in which the only rule is that you have to chug a handle every time there’s a surprising paternity result. Literally everyone will puke and/or die. So please don’t do it.
If you don’t want to sit with two friends in your dark dorm room (Green Cup, ya dig?), see if you can find a hoppin’ apartment party. Or maybe scope out some other bars for us and report back on which one should be the new Monday night destination. If you’re doing this, aim for a bar within walking distance of everywhere on campus that serves free booze and doesn’t card. Stripper poles are a must.

*That Guy behaviors include: vomiting in unsavory places, being a Motherfucker, destroying shit, vomiting in unsavory places, singing Nickelback songs

10 Events in World History That Totally Should Have Been Pregamed

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

Sherman Ave Freshman Guide: The Keg of Evanston

If you're 20, you're probably too old to go in here.

The Keg of Evanston, referred to fondly in some social circles as merely “The Keg,” is a fine establishment that will undoubtedly be an integral part of every freshman’s awkward array of gruesome events. Located only a few blocks off campus (close enough to be convenient, far enough to facilitate some of the most trying late-night walks in recorded history), the KOE is consistently ranked as one of the nation’s top college bars, inaccurately giving validation to Northwestern’s lamentable social scene. The Keg is like Mount Doom – at first, the thought of it is very intimidating, but if you can manage to get inside of it, you run the risk of having a ruefully unattractive creature bite your finger off.