Texting Hillary is my everything

Bet you anything she's sexting Howard Dean

By now, if you spend 23 hours and 45 minutes a day on the internet machine (15 minutes to shit and shower #hygiene) then you’ve probably seen the baller-fest that is this picture of Madame Secretary Hillary “Pimpz N Shit” Clinton. She sits in some sort of world-controlling military death machine, casually texting some biddies in her knock-off Ray Bans. The picture is, in essence, everything that shows why we need Hill to run for all of the offices in 2016. But why is this pikcha tearing up the online webverse? We’ve got a few ideas:

There’s like a 98% chance she’s sending an order to take out a terrorist
If you’re one of the bad people, this photo should give you shivers all up and down your spine and your neck and your heel and your inner thigh and your kneecap. That is the look of a woman who does not GAF at all. You just know she’s telling them to “try” to capture the terrorist, but if it just so happens that the only option is to fire indiscriminately into the room without looking, then so be it.*

She’s calmer than everyone because she’s smarter than everyone
LOL, look at everyone hurrying around in the background. What’re ya’ll doing? Trying to matter? Don’t even bother, your girl has it under control. See those stacks of paper in front of her? Those contain the knowledge. She has them memorized. U don’t. Put your laptops away, get off your phones, and sit quietly until Madame Secretary tells you to speak.

Hill has never looked better
Remember 90’s Hillary? With the headbands and the bright lipstick? GONE. What about 2008 Hillary? With those brightly colored pant suits? NAH MAN. This is HBIC attire at its finest. The dark suit says she may not have a pen15, but she’s got like 12 balls. The sunglasses say you don’t have the privelege of knowing where she’s looking. The Blackberry says she likes to have email at her fingertips, but a game of Angry Birds every now and then is great too. This is a woman who knows how to present herself, and we don’t hate it one bit.

The black and white makes it classy as shit
Woahhh this is so artsy. If only we could Instagram it so the hipsters can see it too.

Nuff said

It’s memeable
Fun fact: this is the most important attribute in any photo. If there isn’t a recurring theme that can be explained in a few short words of white text, why even bother putting the photo online? Like, what are we supposed to do with it? Look at it and not be heinous? YA, NO THANKS. PASS ON THAT ONE. This shit is splendid.

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*NOTE: Sherman Ave fully supports the Geneva Convention, United Nations Declaration of Human Rights, and not war crimes. Plz don’t interpret that to mean we like war crimes. #KONY2012, ya dig?

What You’re Really Doing at College

What students do in between live sex demonstrations or producing Chet Haze’s next record

College: The Pinnacle of Higher Education. Years of hard-work, civic involvement, and awkward loneliness have brought you here. This is the culmination of everything you thought you were working for when you were President of your high school’s National Honor Society, German Club, Breakdancing Club, Future Leaders of America Club, and the “Fuck I Just Want to Get Into a Really Good School Can’t You Fucking Stupid Admission Officers See That Club” (I dedicated most of my time to the F.I.J.W.G.I.R.S.C.Y.F.S.A.O.S.T.C.). And you’ve made it kid – you’re here. However, now that you’ve reached this shining beacon of knowledge, there’s one thing you don’t want to do: work. After a lifetime of pretending to care about learning, you’re just plain out of shits to give. But since you’re here, you may as well do something. Here’s what you probably spend most your time doing at college.

Places You Shouldn’t Meet a Girl

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

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

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

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

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

You met her in high school
Good luck.

The Pippa Middleton of the U.S. Coast Guard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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