LOOK HOW HAPPY SHE IS. DON’T YOU WANT TO BE THAT HAPPY???
Hey kool kollege kid, want to check another cliché off your list? Already converted to Buddhism, studied abroad, went Greek, and pissed away your parents’ retirement funds playing 2048 instead of taking finals? Need something to mitigate the fears of your advancing alcoholism? Don’t worry, you don’t even have to move to save the world. You can literally eat fucktons of fries and be able to call yourself a hero. How? Skip the meat, become vegetarian, and BAM: you’re compassionate. Now go forth, and quote Finding Nemo un-ironically because ~fish are friends, not food~.
But wait[1], that being said, here are a few things to keep in mind coming from someone you should totally trust completely with all life decisions because internet: Continue reading →
Republican congressional candidate Ian Bayne said Saturday that Phil Robertson, the star of Duck Dynasty who was suspended for controversial anti-gay and racist remarks, is the “Rosa Parks of our generation” for his opposition to gay rights. Continue reading →
Men sure have it rough. From making more money than women to not having to worry about living things crawling out of them, a man’s life is full of worry. So much so, in fact, that we’re seeing the emergence of a “men’s rights” movement.
This movement has reached its apex with the website bearing the moniker “Return of Kings.” According to their tagline, they are for “masculine men,” which I guess means that people like Jean Claude Van Damme and David Hasselhoff are regular readers of articles like “20 Things Women Do That Should be Shamed, Not Celebrated,” which highlights shameful actions like “single motherhood” and “being a foodie,” or the one that has really wadded some panties on my Facebook timeline, “5 Reasons To Date A Girl With An Eating Disorder.”
Dear men, Someday, if you’re lucky, you might have a wife or girlfriend.* And there’s a lot you don’t know. Hell, you’ve barely found the clitoris.
Ignorance is a huge turn-off. How can a lady ever trust you to kill her spiders if you’re still terrified and confused by the dry cottonwads that inhabit women’s vaginas when your dick isn’t in there?
So it’s sex week again, and while those with sex lives (or just lives in general) are out getting some, those of us who write for Sherman Ave aren’t as fortunate are with the only thing that’s ever loved us – videogames. So while I sit in my hallway, trying to not hear the sounds of my roommate’s passionate encounters, I couldn’t help but think of the top six Pokémon that make me wanna use the moves “Harden” and “Pound.”
1. Ditto
“I want it that way.” With Ditto, that phrase is not just the name of a song by the Backstreet Boys. Much like Burger King, Ditto lets you have it your way. Ditto can transform into anyone you want – Jennifer Lawrence, that hot girl in your bio class, your Russian Lit TA, Jennifer Lawrence…the possibilities are endless. Fantasies could be fulfilled. Plus, doing it would be less gross, because it wouldn’t seem like you were doing it with a Pokémon. Which, when you think about it, is pretty weird.
Good idea, or great idea?
2. Jynx
Often referred to as being ‘hotter than Moltres, but in a different way.’ Alternatively known as ‘that one Pokémon that’s kinda racist.’ Really the only Pokémon that is blatantly supposed to look like a trashy ‘lady of the night.’ Also the only one given boobs for no apparent reason. Considering that “Kiss” is one of its moves, as well as “Lick,” its ready for anything. It’s not designed to look like a seductress for nothing. It just wants you to go ahead and ‘Cubone’ it. Come on. Its not weird to admit you’ve thought about it. Okay, it is weird, but not that weird.
So, stud, you say you’ve done every sex act in Urbandictionary. But have you done every sex act on the Discovery Channel?
For you, dear reader, I have destroyed my Google search history. You’re welcome.
Wasp spider: Extreme Cockblocking
We’re all familiar with the knowledge that female spiders tend to ingest their lovers after coitus. However, the male wasp spider takes the cake for Most Masochistic Sex Act On This Earth: after sex, he “plugs” the female’s vagina by snapping his own penis off, ostensibly to prevent other potential mates from getting any.
It has come to my attention, with the opening of CARE and tonight’s Take Back the Night event, that there are some men in this world who still do not realize that their pee-pees are not always welcome in our jay-jays[1].
Thankfully, most people will never understand the logic behind this phenomenon. Evolutionary and biological psychology holds that men generally have a higher sex drive because men take quantity of genes spread over quality of genes spread. In other words, they argue that the more “naval troops” a man sends to occupy Vagistan, the more likely it is that his genes will be passed on, whereas women are more careful with what they fuck because we don’t want to waste nine months lugging moron genes around in our uteruses (uteri?). There’s also the “rape myth” (women actually want it and will enjoy it, they’re just playing hard-to-get), and the idea that sexual violence is more about a drive for power than a drive to bump uglies. Don’t ask me why rape happens; I’m not touching that can of worms. Whatever the reason is, men continue to force sex upon women despite years of repeated nagging, which goes to show us that nagging does not work, and it’s time to change evolutionary biology.
Women should evolve vagina teeth.
Ladies, doesn’t it suck to feel powerless against potential rapists after dark in the quad, dressed in a short skirt and fishnets? Do you glare at the strapping young lads passing you by to let them know you’re not only aware of your surroundings but really, really scary? Have you ever actually tried using that mace? Cause I haven’t needed to (the glare must have worked), but in the case of an actual emergency I want to have a weapon that doesn’t require skill, and aiming is hard. Solution? Canines in the vagines.
This is not a new idea. It has appeared in many a lunchtime conversation during my high school days. And according to Wikipedia, “folk stories are frequently told as cautionary tales warning of the dangers of sex with strange women, to discourage rape, and around campfires at Boy Scout outings in an attempt to incentivize good Christian abstinence,” so apparently someone has thought of this before me. Let me clarify: I’m not advocating an end to hookups. God no. They’re all we have left at Northwestern to convince us that we’ll be sexually acceptable in the real world. I’m advocating a built-in trump card. Think about it: the ability to castrate men if they insert themselves into unwanted places will make assholes less free with their willies.
And you know what else? It will be very difficult in most cases for a man to argue that she was “asking for it,” or for a woman to argue that she was raped when she wasn’t. If that lady doesn’t want the cucumber in her baby kitchen, there’s gonna be a very finely sliced cucumber to show for it. This will eliminate a large amount of ambiguity in the legal system. In fact, I’d like us all to close our eyes and imagine the judicial trials of potential rapists. “Is the defendant’s quiverbone still attached?” “Only some of it, your honor.” “Then she probably didn’t want it in her coochie-snorcher. Case closed.”
I’m not really sure how we’re going to evolve this. Maybe we can invest in some vagina dentures for high-risk women or something, and the rest of our vaginas will catch on that this is a good idea. Our copycat reproductive systems seem to collectively believe that aligning our periods with our roommates and best friends is a fucking brilliant idea, so it shouldn’t take too long to catch on. “Oh, there’s blood coming out of your vagina? I want some too!” Fuck you and your weird habits, genitalia.
I’m also not sure what medical care our nether pearly whites will need…toothbrushes? We’ll see. Til then, the mace, prayer, and angry glare are going to have to suffice.
[1] Disclaimer: A friend of mine has noted that the majority of Northwestern frat boys she has hooked up with will immediately freak the fuck out and back away at least three feet in terror if a chick tells them “no” in the bedroom. To those: thank you. Your mommas taught you well.
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.
——————————————————————————————————————————
*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.
Also like in baseball, there's usually a pitcher and a catcher.
There’s a question we all ask our single friends regularly, usually when they show up looking unkempt, worried, and possibly pregnant.
“How far did you get with them?”
This is a question that SEEMS like it would have simple answers. “I let him touch my vagina.” “I touched her vagina,” “We started to get naked but I ejaculated prematurely,” these are all reasonable responses. But, for whatever reasons, (mostly embarrassment) people never give these answers. Instead they rely on euphemisms, the most popular of which is “The Base System.”
Which would be fine, that’s cool guys, its totally fair to equate sex to baseball – they’re both exhausting team-sports that are hard to watch for more than ten minutes – and, just like baseball, I don’t really understand the rules. But if we’re going to use a base system, we need to have one common definition for all the bases. And right now, that consensus does not exist. Is first base kissing? Does tongue have to be involved? Where does tactile vaginal contact fall? Boobs? What about BOOBS?! WHO’S GOING TO TALK ABOUT BOOBS?!
Don’t worry, we will. And at great length.
Anyway, here are the two different ways you can interpret the base system. Which one is right? Sound off in the poll below.
FIRST BASE
Sometimes you can just guess...
Point, by Sad Bones Malone
First base inhabits this weird realm of ambiguity. Everyone understands that kissing is involved in some capacity, but this begs the question: “how much kissing?” We both agree that a peck does not constitute first base, but I feel that to actually get to first base, you have to be “making out.” There is an underlying expectation that there’s a little bit of hands, and a little bit more action than a single kiss. It should be a semi-extended duration that might involve a little bit of exploration. First base contains a whole host of operations — hickeys, ear-play, fondling — these are all entry actions to the sexual experience. And since first base is the entry way to the other bases, all these activities are constituted within first base.
Counterpoint, by Manua Hiki-Hiki
You have to be kidding me!? I mean, you have to do a little exploring in the land of the mouth to be considered “at first base,” but first base does not mean you have to be searching for the hidden realm of the esophagus. First base is an important step, but IT’S JUST THE FIRST FUCKING BASE!!! Using your definition as first base is like saying you don’t know anything about geography until you know the capital of Zimbabwe (you should really look into learning that though, as Harare is bomb as Hell). Next thing you’re going to tell me is that I have to be inside a girl’s pants to be at second base. Like, really? Really?!?
SECOND BASE
Although he's usually hopelessly out of breath by the time he rounds third.
Point, by Manua Hiki-Hiki
Actually, let me just preempt what I expect will be your naively asinine answer: There’s no way being inside a girl’s pants qualifies as second base. I have far too much reverence for the vagina to place it at such an easily accessible base. If a 500-pound bear-creature named Prince Fielder can make it to second-base in a game of baseball, then searching the mystical vagina cannot be second-base – because second base is PRETTY FUCKING EASY to get to. Want to know what’s not easy to get to? The Vagina. Therefore, those two things cannot be equivalent — it’s math. We all know the real second base: Boobtown. Boobtown is a very important step and deserves its own base. You cannot neglect boobs. Boobs are awesome. Getting to touch a girl’s boobs is like riding a bike for the first time: both are important landmarks in your life, both cause a big sense of accomplishment… and I ejaculated after both. All excitement issues aside, boobs are very important in the grand scheme of the “game of love” and deserve their own base.
Counterpoint, by Bad Bones Malone
Listen guys, I don’t want you to think I’m coming from the wrong place. I love boobs, and I have the upmost respect for boobs — in fact, some of my best friends are boobs. But if we only have three bases to work with, boobs aren’t deserving of their own landmark.
She just has... so much... you know... CHARACTER!!!
Because, as much as I like boobs, they aren’t even close to being equal the vagina. When a guy gets drunk and gets a little boob-gropey it’s “a little creepy,” when a man decides to go straight for vaginas it’s “a little bit of a felony.” Those lines are drawn for a reason, the vagina is simply far, far more important than boobs.
The fact that boobs don’t get their own base also has to do with the function of the base-system — it’s shorthand that can be used to denote romantic progress. And, while I’m sure it was nice, I don’t really care if you touched a girls boobs. We aren’t in junior high anymore. Boobs get touched all the time — and if you’re making out with a girl it’s not an unreasonable jump to assume you might have felt her up. If you’re using the proper definition of first base — my version — then you’ve already covered fondling anyway. Congratulations.
The first time you touch a girl’s vagina is important — it’s the first time you have a chance to let her fake an orgasm (laaaaadies), which as far as I’m concerned is the EXPRESS PURPOSE OF SEXUAL ACTIVITY.
So if you’re going to chart the progression of sexual activity, then you better fucking have a stop reserved for the first time you take an action that actually ends where you’re trying to go.
THIRD BASE Consensus: I think we can all agree here: Once the trouser dragon has entered the salivary sea, you’re at third base.
HOME Consensus: If you’ve solved the coital conundrum, you’re home.
The proposed base systems have been researched by many a student at Harvard, Princeton, and other places where these things never occur… and that is why we need your help. Vote in the poll below and help solve history’s second most important Trojan War (ahhh, get it? Trojan. Like the condom. SEX).
Who would have thought one little drilldo could cause so much damage?
5. Professor John Bailey’s Endorsement of DeWalt Hardware
DeWalt Hardware thought they had made the marketing move of the century when they signed John Bailey to endorse their products. Dewalt hoped that Bailey, a professor at Northwestern University who made international news for allowing the use of a fucksaw in an after-class demonstration to prove to students that – contrary to popular belief – females can indeed be brought to orgasm, would inspire others to invent new and creative uses for their products. The endorsement, however, had the opposite effect of that which was desired. As it turns out, it isn’t as beneficial as one would think to have your product associated with a mechanical pleasure machine.
At least he was never accused of juicing.
4. O.J. Simpson’s Endorsement of Minute Maid Orange Juice
“O.J. for O.J.!” With this slogan, how could any product fail? Well, if the O.J. that is being associated with the product happens to be widely recognized as a felon, there will be issues. The secondary slogan, “If the glove don’t fit-rus, get a dose of some citrus,” only made matters worse, throwing Minute Maid into the spotlight, saddling the company with the nickname a “Vitamin C-rial Killer,” and ultimately leading to allegations that the product itself was not of sufficient quality. This sweeping grassroots movement was spearheaded by the iconic muckraker Captain Juggles, who scrutinized Minute Maid in her song “Balls.” The timeless line, “Get those tiny tangerines out of here, I want them Florida Golds” instantly became the mantra of what is now referred to as the Fruit Juice Revolution. With this one ill-advised endorsement, Minute Maid effectively ruined its once-healthy reputation for ages to come.
These probably had a much better relationship with Hillary than Bill ever did
3. Hillary Clinton’s Endorsement of Tampax
As a proud member of the male gender, I refuse to know what tampons really do; I sometimes wonder if they’re vanilla-flavored cigars that women smoke in privacy because it’s not ladylike. My sister once explained it to me, but I stopped listening after I heard the word “vagina.” Regardless of the purpose they serve, it has been made painfully clear that tampons should not be endorsed by Former Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton. But in early 2008, Hillary Clinton and Tampax entered into a mutually beneficial partnership: Clinton endorsed the product, and Tampax supported her campaign. However, the symbiotic relationship was short-lived, as Tampax instantly saw a dramatic drop in sales. Why? Market research indicates that, for lack of a better explanation, Americans really don’t like thinking about Hillary Clinton’s vagina.
Which explains why the cereal tastes like so many thousands of tears
2. Adolf Hitler’s Endorsement of Wheaties
I know what you’re thinking: “Why the fuck would anyone ever want Hitler to endorse their product?” As it turns out, Hitler was a very admirable political figure before he exterminated 11 million people. After he was elected TIME magazine’s Man of the Year in 1938, Wheaties – then a mere fledgling cereal producer – put him on the front of their cereal box, believing that an assertive, successful politician would be the perfect icon to promote their product. Unfortunately, Hitler’s subsequent invasion of Poland put an extremely negative spin on the advertising campaign; the situation only deteriorated when loud-mouthed General George S. Patton jokingly referred to Poland has “Hitler’s Breakfast of Champions.” Nazi propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels, seeing the cereal box as a symbol of Germany’s cultural and racial superiority to the United States, began using the box as an image to unite and mobilize the German people for war. I don’t mean to imply that Wheaties is responsible for the Holocaust, but the writing’s on the wall.
The fallout was so bad that Reebok was forced to drop Christopher Reeve from their lineup
1. Stephen Hawking’s Endorsement of Air Jordans
In 2004, Nike commissioned a series of marketing studies that revealed a blatant trend in their sales: customers who identified themselves as “academically-oriented” were very unlikely to buy sneakers from Nike. In an effort to rectify this, Nike made one of the most spectacular public relations blunders in recorded history; they had their most popular shoes, Air Jordans, endorsed by paralyzed Oxford professor Stephen Hawking. If that wasn’t poorly construed enough, the commercials featured Stephen Hawking’s computer stating taglines such as “With Air Jordans, my physical potential is no longer a black hole!” and “Who needs the shoulders of giants when you have Air Jordans?” The mastermind of this advertising campaign likely befell the same fate that the North Korean national soccer team did after their 7-0 loss to Portugal in the 2010 World Cup.
Sherman Ave 
