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Tag Archives: vodka

9 Excellent Things to Use After You’ve Run out of Chaser

30 Sep
Along with Jameson, gummy vitamins will provide you with enough sustenance to last a fortnight.

Along with Jameson, gummy vitamins will provide you with enough sustenance to last a fortnight.

If you’ve ever been to a college party, you are probably uncomfortably familiar with the sinking feeling associated with an improper ratio of mixers to alcohol. At Sherman Ave parties, we then resort to chasing with our own heinousness. But that’s pretty advanced and I don’t recommend it. So, instead of you running out to 7-Eleven and endangering the lives of others, allow me to help you help yourself. Let’s get weird.

1. Gummy vitamins

THIS WORKS. These nutrient-rich gelatinous delights immediately cut the burn of cheap vodka. Bonus: if they contain B-vitamins, they may actually help prevent a hangover. PREMED.

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A line-by-line translation and analysis of Psy’s “Oppan Gangnam Style”

23 Sep

오빤강남스타일

Holy shit, is that a foreign language on the radio? Or is someone doing a poor imitation of Creed’s speech impediment?

강남스타일

Dear radio: making fun of speech impediments is not politically correct anymore. Ugh, I thought we’d come further than this! Once I finish driving home I’m going to make myself a cocktail of vodka and facepalm.

낮에는따사로운인간적인여자

……………………..Holy shit, that IS a foreign language!

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Sherman Ave Freshman Guide: Libations at NU

18 Jul

What most intoxicated freshmen look like to us.

So you’re going off to NU this fall, eh? You like to party hard? NO YOU DON’T, HIGH SCHOOLER. Now that we have that aside, let me be your tour guide around the beautiful bar that is the NU campus.

BEER
No shit you’re going to find beer. What did you expect? Prepare for keg beer, Keystone Light, Busch Light, and PBR galore. Occasionally you’ll find something else, but don’t get excited. For the love of God, please do not drink the bottles if you find any in a fridge! That shit is stealing and is uncool. Be thankful enough that NU’s frats don’t charge like asshole state schools. We’re nice like that. Don’t trash the place.

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50 Shades of Purple, Chapter One

19 Jun

For Morty, the master of my universe

I scowl with frustration at myself in the mirror. Damn my hair — it just won’t behave, and damn that Beverly Brooke for being ill and subjecting me to this ordeal. I should be studying for my final exams, which are next week, yet here I am trying to brush my hair into submission. Ugh. FML. I’m suuuuch a Medilldo.

I must not sleep with it wet. I must not sleep with it wet. That’s what she said. Reciting this mantra several times, I attempt, once more, to bring it under control with the brush. I roll my eyes in exasperation and gaze at the pale, brown-haired girl with blue eyes too big for her face staring back at me, and give up. My only option is to restrain my wayward hair in a ponytail and hope that I look semi presentable.

Beave is my roommate, and she has chosen today of all days to succumb to the flu. Therefore, she cannot attend the interview she’d arranged to do, with some mega-brill-brill engineer I’ve never heard of, for The Daily. So I have volunteered. I have finals to complain about, one 500-word article to fabricate, but no — today I have to walk all the way from Pi Phi all the way up to fucking Slivka in order to meet this enigmatic nerd. As an exceptional engineer and son of major Northwestern benefactors, his time is extraordinarily precious — much more precious than mine — but he has granted Beave an interview. A real coup, she tells me. Damn her extra-curricular activities. What is ASG anyways?

“Does, like, vodka and gatorade get rid of the flu?” Beverly asks.

“Sure it does. It’s a disinfectant,” I answer.

Gathering my Steve Madden bag, I smile at her and head out the door. She’ll make an exceptional journalist for Chillicothe Times-Bulletin one day. She’s got talent.

———————————————————

I knock on the door in Slivka. It slowly opens as a tremendous cloud of weed-smoke funnels out.

“Mr. Packingham is out at the moment,” says my interviewee’s roommate, a man who presumably served two years in the Singapore army and is double-majoring in chemistry and K-Pop Studies. “But feel free to come in.”

I check out Packingham’s room. It looks like a cross between an adolescent’s wet dream and Charlie Sheen’s Tuesday morning. Kate Upton and Pippa Middleton adorn walls streaked with what I can only assume is Dmitri vodka and CVS Gold Brand grape soda. An exotic aroma hits my nose, an exquisite fusion of BK, Busch Light, and man musk. Must be a Comm major. I think I need to sit down.

And then, a man enters.

“Excuse me. I’m looking for a Beave. Have you seen one?”

Oh God. Packingham’s a tool. He’s smiling like a Freshman who just got into The Keg.

“Um. Actually–” I mutter. But such a handsome tool.

“Miss Brooke is indisposed, so she sent me. I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Packingham.” Eyes like Bill Murray. Complexion like Drake. Body like John Shurna. And, most importantly, a beard like Morty’s.

“And you are?” His voice is warm, possibly amused, definitely slurred a bit. I can’t help but notice the portable beer pong table near his bed.

“Carla Rossi. I’m studying magazine journalism with Beave, um… Miss Brooke in Medill.”

“I see,” he says simply. I can’t help but notice he’s wearing a Sig Nu hoodie. That’s… unexpected.

“Would you like to sit?” He waves me toward a green bean bag chair prominently featuring several suspicious stains.

“I have some questions for you,” I say, catching him looking down my shirt.

“I though you might Carla,” he deadpans.

“Well, let’s get started. I’d like to know what you make of allegations that your father’s donations are the reason Northwestern starts so ungodly late in the calendar year.”

“Bullshit,” Packingham replies.

“Okay, how about suggestions that you once banged Mayor Tisdahl on the roof of Swift?” I try.

“I wish,” the swashbuckling sultan of swag replies.

“Do you have any hobbies?” Butter them up with some puff questions. Medill’s taught me well.

“You know, the usual. Chill with my bros. Drunken Sporcle. Skinny dipping in Lake Michigan with my biddies. Hey Carla, did you know that I’m the reason Selena Gomez decided against becoming a Wildcat? Let’s just say she’s no big fan of the hot cookie bar, if you know what I mean. How about you?”

“Me!?” I ask, surprised. “I mostly complain about how sketch the el is on my way to my internship. I just love the city.”

He smiles, seeming to sense something flutter inside me. Shit! Could he possibly have realized that I can name all 151 original Pokémon in alphabetical order? I thought I had kept that hidden since the Kappa rush debacle of 2011.

“Fine. Last question. Can you comment on the prevailing rumors that you are the man responsible for the invention of the fucksaw—”

“I can’t comment on pending litigation,” he cuts me off, quicker than I awkwardly end conversations on Sheridan.

“Dude, want to play the National Treasure 2 drinking game?” His roommate interrupts.

“Yes, yes I do,” he answers. “Carla,” he says as a farewell.

“Ross,” I reply. And the door, Adele poster and all, comes to a close.

Culinary Dorm Corner: Cocktails!!!!!!

19 Mar

How else are we supposed to get our daily fruit requirement?

NOTICE: Just as the Evanston City Council assumes that all Twitter accounts are real, here at Sherman Ave we assume that all of our readers are responsible drinkers who are of legal age.

So in true Sherman Ave fashion, I’m writing this article as I’m five standard drinks in on St. Patrick’s day, which I think everyone can agree is the most heinous of holidays. Or rather, Alco-holidays. Let’s be real, I’m a drunk mess right now. I’m listening to Adele on full volume while I chug hard cider.

Did I mention I’m a ¼ Irish? No? Well, that and the 3/8 Mexican should be swag enough for me to get drunk any day of the week, you judgmental fucks.

Anyway, You wanna make some tasty c*cktails, eh? (are we Canadian now? Idk, bro)

So LET’S GET STARTED:

APPLE FUCKING PIE A LA MODE SHOOTER
This shit is so good. In the span of 24 hours I’ve made about 4 or 5, and consumed two myself. Regrets? NONE. This tasty little bitch will go down smoother than that Senior frat boy last Saturday.

½ shot apple pie liqueur (EV1 carries a brand called Anthony’s Own. It’s $16.99 a bottle, 25% alc. By volume. QUALITY PURCHASE FOLKS)
½ shot baily’s irish cream. (DOES IT MATTER HOW MUCH THIS COSTS? THIS IS GLORY IN A BOTTLE. I DRINK THIS LIKE WATER DAILY.)
Dash of cinnamon. (BECAUSE WE GET FANCY)

Try to throw it back because even though the liqueur is sweet, you don’t want the alcohol to curdle the cream.

Ruin yet another childhood memory with alcohol!

CIDER SLING
Typically a sling is citrus based, but the tartness of granny smith apple cider will totally suffice, especially if you use the gin I recommend because it doesn’t have a juniper berry base, which makes most gins spicier/more bitter.

½ shot New Amsterdam gin, or other gin if you like sticking it to the man (ME)
1 shot apple/apple pie liqueur
6 oz (half bottle) hard cider (I like Kelly’s a lot, but Woodchuck is sold by EV1, so it’s what I’m using)
1 or 2 oz ginger ale

This shit is a good drink if you want to get drunk but don’t want to be forced into getting a new drink every second. It’s tasty, it’s apple-y and that’s all that counts for me right now. I AM DRINKING ONE OF THESE RIGHT NOW, THAT SHOULD TELL YOU HOW GOOD IT IS.

CHERRY WHISKEY
I don’t even know if there’s some nasty cherry whiskey out there, considering we’ve got cherry liqueur, brandy, vodka, etc, but this’ll fit the bill and go down really smooth. Enough of these and you’ll break whatever holiday it is. Believe me, Sherman Ave broke MLK Day on these.

1 shot of HONEY whiskey (it has to be honey, and I prefer Jack Daniels)
Splash of gold rum
2 maraschino cherries
A bigger splash of the juice from the cherry jar
5 to 6 oz. coke

Be careful with these, please. The last time I imbibed these bad boys my roommate was not happy with their contents being deposited on my bed while I slept on the floor. Then I stole a friend’s camera and had an 11 image photo shoot by myself with a fire extinguisher. This shit is dangerous.

Goes great with skiing, family vacations, and the existential coldness of winter quarter.

CHOCOLATE SURPRISE
The surprise is how drunk you get, you fuck. HAPPY HOLIDAYS? Anyway, this is gonna be a great thing to sip on and get progressively more slutty. I hold no responsibility for your hookups.

1 shot crème de cacao
1 shot bailey’s
1 shot Kahlua
5 oz. rosemary simple syrup (boil 1 cup sugar and 1 cup water, take off heat and throw in a bunch of rosemary and let cool. Take out rosemary and then voila! syrup)
1 shot cream/whole milk.

Pour this over ice. Nothing is better than this, I swear. I’m sorry I can type so well when I’m drunk guys, but really. I made this based on an ice cream flavor at the Bent Spoon in Princeton, NJ, and that shit was really tasty so yeah… This happened.

ANYWAY, I hope you guys enjoy these drinks. Please for the love of all that is holy, do NOT do all of these drinks at once, because you’ll will end up flatter than a opossum crossing I-95. #southernjoke. OH WELL. HAPPY SPRING BREAK!

Who to follow/like on Twitter/Facebook

1 Mar

This kid likes Sherman Ave. And somebody called Kate Upton.

Let’s assume, for a second, that you’re heinous. I know, I know: You? You’d never be heinous! Heinous is a bad thing! Like classes that don’t allow laptops or the fact that Tim Pawlenty was so drastically overlooked in the rational-fest that is the GOP primary! But based on the fact that you’re reading this honorable website, I’m gonna say you might be heinous.

And, if you’re as heinous as I imagine, then you may be thinking to yourself, “Ugh I totes feel like I don’t rully follow enough awesome people on social media!” Have no fear: Sir T-Worth is here to ruin the Internet with a nice little list of the best accounts to like or follow on Facebook or Twitter.

Sherman Ave
Why the hell haven’t you liked and followed us yet? We’re fucking hilarious. Do it now.

Your Friend From High School (@FriendFromHS)
This is probably the best parody account on the internet. Seamlessly weaving heinousness, ignorance, terrific spelling, unthinkable abbreves, plotlines and alcoholism into 140 character tidbits, FriendFromHS captures the essence of every townie. You’ll be treated (or tweeted!!! GET IT?!!?) to such joys as “WHY DOES EVER BARTENDA OR HIGH SCHOOL COACH I SLEEP WIT HAVE A WIFE?!?! uggggh #happyvd” and get to know her newly born twins, Caylee and JonBenet. This is potentially our pinnacle as a species.

Not Buster Olney (@Tripping_Olney)
If you love sports or comedy or ESPN baseball analyst Buster Olney, look no further. TrippingOlney is the one account that successfully takes a sober, vanilla sports reporter and accurately puts him on LSD. Tweets like “WHY’D THE CHICKEN CROSS THE ROAD? TO AVOID BEING SIGNED BY THE METS” provide a welcome respite from all the other incredibly serious accounts on this list. And you know it’s funny because he tweets in ALL CAPS.

Courtney Stodden (@CourtneyStodden)
Sweet sultry seamstress of sexual synergy! America’s favorite underage future-sex-tape-star has never been one to hold back, be it in her choice of husband, affinity for flirting with pumpkins, or on Twitter. Stodden, who rose to fame for her, um, “mature” looks and marriage to former LOST star and 51-year-old Doug Hutchison at the age of 16, uses Twitter as her personal release for all that lusty, lusty lust she has pent up. She also uses an unthinkable amount of alliteration. Which is cool. But guys, she’s 17. Is this whole situation legal?

Did you seriously just tweet about how you became the mayor of the Norris Crepe Station?

Jed Bartlet(@Pres_Bartlet)
If you’re a West Wing fan, this is 2 e-z. But even if you’re not it’s well worth your time to follow the “fictional” president from the show. Bartlet’s tweets have the ability to appear as snappy 140-character one-liners, yet often make a valid point in a witty, concise way. The account’s creators stay true to the show’s character and stick both to his politics and style. But be warned: Bartlet was a Democrat (and perhaps the greatest president we’ve ever had) and his tweets follow suit. Santorum-huggers may want to stay away.

Facebook
OMG like it on Facebook, it’s so meta! Meta on meta on meta. Everything’s meta, I love being meta. I have no idea what meta means.

Newt Gingrich Ideas (@GingrichIdeas)
Newt Gingrich loves thinking of stuff. He loves thinking of himself as President, he loves thinking of divorcing his wife for a younger version, he loves thinking of the moon, and he loves thinking of ideas. This account has a direct link to Newt’s brain and such brilliant ideas as “Kittens.” or “Trick a Muslim into eating pork so I can steal his powers” or “Show up at the Grammys in a wig and accept all of Adele’s awards.” If we get enough people to follow this account, the Republican primary voters might remember he exists again!

George Takei
Guys he’s so funny. Like literally, who could have foreseen that Lt. Sulu would end up this balla? His Facebook page has seriously become my one-stop shop for all things random, funny, inappropriate, poignant, and in favor of marriage equality. He’s the definition of the old guy who knows how to use Facebook and he’s done a great job of establishing a personal relationship with his fans through caption contests and personal posts. We must reward this kind of behavior. Like him immediately.

Northwestern Girl (@NrthwesternGrl)
She just gets us. Northwestern Girl takes all of NU’s subtle habits, phrases, and tendencies and combines them into the epitome of an overachieving sorostitute who casually lives in Norris. Her knowledge of what makes NU students tick is at once enviable and horrifying, and tweets such as “We should totally do that. Let’s go during reading week!” and “When are you getting to Evanston slash when are we getting together???? FREAKING OUT” will leave you giggling alone in your room because you have no friends.

Rainn Wilson (@rainnwilson)
Rainn Wilson’s Twitter picture is currently Jeremy Lin. That’s pretty all you need to know about this account. Wilson, who plays Dwight on the popular American version of the British smash hit comedy “The Office” airing Thursday nights on NBC even though Steve Carrell left, tackles comedy, politics, and everything weird on this account. Perhaps the best way to summarize Wilson’s eclectic Tweeting style is through this one: “They keep switching T-Mobile girls & thinking we won’t notice. Like Bewitched.”

Jenna Marbles (@Jenna_Marbles)
She’s taught us how to do The Face. She’s filled us in on how to trick people into thinking you’re good looking. She let us know what the ladiez do in the car. But now, everyone’s favorite YouTube

It's no Dmitri, but it'll get the job done.

comedian/likely stripper is dispensing her knowledge on the Twitters. Marbles fills her page with tidbits of heinous to keep us informed on how to like the white girl trash lifestyle 24/7. Anecdotes like “I just did the walk of shame from my living room to my bedroom” and “Couple of shots of tequila deep. Anyone else? Just me? Cool. *cries about life*” let you know that she’s the real deal, too.

Burnett’s (@_Burnetts)
This parody account highlights the lowlights of consuming perhaps the fifth worst vodka known to man. Tweets range from follower-submitted Burnett’s horror stories to polite encouragement that comes in handy when you’re reconsidering your life choices. Usually hilarious, _Burnett’s lets us remember that there are other heinouses out there in the world, if only you know where to look. One note of caution: sometimes this shit is too real.

4 Nuisances Of Being Home

18 Dec

They say there’s no place like home. While it has been quite fantastic to spend some time relaxing at home with my family now that finals are over, there are certain aspects of being home that I had forgotten how much I don’t like. Indeed, sadly, home doesn’t consist solely of gourmet food and a nice bed. So without further ado, I present – in all my glorious bitching – four things that have bothered me since I’ve come home.

Nothing says "Christmas" like a shouting match with your father over light placement

4. Putting Up Christmas Lights
There’s just nothing like a Christmas tradition. Every December, my parents hand me a string of sorry-ass fucking Christmas lights and a ladder (which, incidentally, is about as stable as the Zambian government) and give me one objective: Make the 25-foot leafless tree in front of our house look slightly more festive and slightly less flaccid. It’s especially fun when, after an hour spent climbing around the tree like a paraplegic chimpanzee, I finish decorating the tree to discover that approximately a quarter of the lights actually function. Ultimately, though, it’s worth the Christmas cheer. Every time I look at that pathetic tree and the lights which appear to have been put up by a blind lemur, I am filled with an overwhelming sense of holiday spirit. And by holiday spirit, I mean uncontrollable rage.

3. Losing To My Parents in Scrabble
I don’t know about you guys, but I love shit-talking (Side note: Being from Denver, Tim “The Jesus” Tebow has regaled me with a whole anthology of shit-talking materials). Therefore, when my parents suggest a casual post-dinner Scrabble game, I immediately acquire the attitude of a theoretical lovechild of Terrell Owens and Pau Gasol. This shit-talking strategy pays off richly, seeing as I often demolish my parents and subsequently run naked victory laps around the dining room table. And this isn’t me bragging about my Scrabble skills; the case is rather that my parents don’t give two shits about whether or not their placement of “twat” (I truly wish I were lying about my dad playing that in Scrabble) opens up availability to the Triple Word space. Tonight, however, my shit-talking strategy failed me, as I fell short by one point against my mom. Ugh. Now I just feel like a douche.

2. Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
I never thought it would be possible to make such a trainwreck out of a movie starring Natalie Portman, Ewan McGregor, and Samuel L. Jackson, but damn it all if it hasn’t been done. I mean, seriously, what a steaming cinematic shitstack. The kid who starred as Anakin Skywalker (out of principle, I’m not looking up the little fucker’s name) is more obnoxious than the Nyan Cat on methamphetamines. And Jar Jar Binks? I don’t know whose idea it was to combine the voice of an illiterate Louisiana swamp-person with the visual representation of a banana peel with birth defects, but that idea single-handedly ruined my childhood. Honestly, the only thing they could have done to make this movie any worse would be casting Nick Cage as Senator Palpatine. Yeah, just imagine it.

"To the nights you wish you could forget."

1. Vodka Commercials
Maybe this is something I’m just noticing now because I spend 8 hours a day watching TV (luhhhh vacation), but vodka commercials are absolutely preposterous. The one that I find most personally absurd is a Grey Goose commercial, featuring the tagline: “To the nights you’ll never forget.” I don’t know what sort of idiots are running the marketing department over at Grey Goose, but they clearly lack a fundamental understanding of alcohol. Granted, the tagline “To the nights you’ll blackout and then discover five weeks later that you vomited gratuitously” isn’t quite as catchy, but it is certainly more accurate. It just seems that somewhere in the attempt to craft a convincing image-based appeal, the morons over at Grey Goose forgot some of the drawbacks of downing vodka. If I were Grey Goose, I’d try something more along the lines of “To the poke wars you drunkenly initiated with the entirety of your high school government class” or “To the texts you receive from your mom the next morning saying ‘You might want to take that video off of Facebook.’”

Bitches at Airports: A True Story Rant

18 Dec

What exactly do full body scans entail?

Now, I’m not one to get pissed over travel. I don’t mind long car rides and I don’t mind airplanes. It’s merely transportation, a service to get you from one point to another. However, in light of all the students leaving the comfortable abides of their 80-square-foot dorm rooms and returning home soon, it’s not out of reason to expect some bumps in the road. But God (and Rick Perry) knows that there’s something wrong with America when you encounter all of these at once.

1. The Forgotten Wallet
You somehow get stuck behind the shithole that forgot their wallet. Last time I checked, having your goddamn money and your goddamn ID card and your goddamn nonfat skinny double shot cherry chapstick was an important thing. So maybe you shouldn’t switch from the raggedy hippy knit satchel thing you wear around campus to promote green living to that let’s-kill-all-the-animals Dooney & Bourke purse that could’ve paid Theta Chi’s dues for the year, you hypocritical, smarmy fuck. I’m just sayin’.

2. You get behind the fashionista in security.
Sure, you want to look nice, or even sexy (see above paragraph on bag selection). That does not give you a single reason to wear all of that jewelry! I’m pretty sure Jenna Marbles said it quite clearly in a recent video, “Who the fuck are you trying to impress!?” I’m not gonna see your P90X ass ever again, and girl, if you’re doing that shit, you need to realize that a guy doesn’t wanna have the same testosterone levels as you. Otherwise shake off the mountains of bangles and bracelets and rings and toe-rings and anklets and earring and noserings and watches and necklaces and chokers and belts and fuck-fuck-fucks you have laying around your gelatinous body! PUT ON SOME MAKEUP INSTEAD, IT DOESN’T SLOW DOWN THE GODDAMN LINE. Seriously, some of you looked like you were heading to MIA’s wedding shoot.

3. You’re on either the overstuffed plane…
And you’ll probably get the average person sitting next to you, but Jesus this shit will be uncomfortable. No one wants to feel like they’re a layer of apples in your Meemaw’s famous pie. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been folded over and under like some puff pastry under these old people. Thank God I check myself in early so I can pick an aisle or window seat. You’ll also get your fair share of screaming children and pissed of menopausal hostesses.

Does it count as the mile high club

4. Or the terribly empty plane
THIS IS THE WORST ONE. Because god knows, this is the one that those irritable passengers take. “I don’t like flying” is NOT an excuse to FLY ON A FREAKING AIRPLANE WITH ME. These are the people that get worked up and stressed out over every single thing and will not extract their pound of flesh from your innocent face. Even Ryan Murphy’s reprehensible excuse for a show Nip/Tuck couldn’t fix that. Not to mention, this is the flight for those annoying off-duty crew members to take.

Which reminds me of a story.

So I’m already stressed because I got stuck behind a fashionista, but I’ve calmed down with my two hours of gate wait time and a frap from Starbucks (sorry, I’m a pretentious fuck). We board the airplane and there’s this old man that notices practically no one is on the plane. He sits in front of me, which is actually the beginning of the economy plus seating or some shit. Who comes by? The asshole Off-Duty crew members. A pilot and his wife. They practically shove the old, octagenarian man out of the seat and tell him if he wants to sit there, he’ll have to pay more. So he has to sit in his assigned seat, two over from me. Ok. I’m chill. He’s a nice guy and keeps to himself. So I sit in my seat in such a way that I prop my foot up on the back curves of the armrest in front of me. There’s absolutely no way the other person can feel it, and I’ve never had a problem. Until this dickbagel shoves his elbow as far back as he can and bumps my foot. He immediately turns around as I’m reading that ridiculousness called SkyMall and goes, “Excuse me. Take your nasty foot off the armrest.” EXCUSE ME?! NASTY? Could have left that part out man. I have nice feet. My response? “Um… It’s on my side, and it’s not hurting you. But whatever.” And I take my foot off. A few minutes later, my foot wanders back up, because you know, they’re nasty, which clearly means that they’re rebellious and belligerent. He turns around again, but then his wife speaks, “If you do that one more time, I’m going to call the attendant. Take your feet off.” YOU ARE OFF DUTY BITCH, YOU ARE A SAD RECENTLY BOTOX’D WASPY CUNTMUFFIN. TAKE YOUR NASTY COLLAGEN LIPS AND PUT THEM ON A SEVEN DOLLAR VODKA CRANBERRY AND OUT OF MY EAR.

Needless to say, my legs were very uncomfortable for the rest of the flight. Which naturally brings us to:

Handle with care

5. You get the asshole baghandlers.
These guys will ruin every day you have after this flight for the rest your life. Did you really like your matched set of luggage? Did you pay that heinous extra to get Louis Vuitton? Is your life precedent on the careful handling of that unknown designer label garment bag? Well, maybe we should occupy your 1% ass, but afterwards console you, because those baghandlers will get to you first. They’ll scuff it up, burn the side, get tar and grease everywhere and then toss your luggage on the line like Clinton tossed Lewinsky on the Oval Office desk.

All in all, maybe you should just drive yourself to your destination. I hear gas is cheap.

7 Things You Miss About Being at Northwestern

14 Dec

Right now you’re probably sitting at home and staring at Facebook. You’re probably praying to the Almighty Tim Tebow that your life becomes more exciting. You miss Northwestern and you know it. Here are some of the likely reasons why you’re missing NU.

You don't understand. It's hot cookie bar.

7. The Cold
Now I’m going to be honest here: I don’t like cold weather. I’m not a fan of my boys retreating back into my body like the French during, well, any war ever. However, now that I’m away from the freezing helltrap known as Northwestern, I realize I do miss the cold. “Why?” You may ask. Well, to answer your question, Mr. Theoretical Man Who Talks to his Computer, the frozen domain known as Evanston provides us with two things: 1. The appearance of social skills; and 2. The chance to whine incessantly. Because nobody likes the cold, the vast majority of your conversations at Northwestern may be about how fucking cold it is – and though it would be unacceptable anywhere else to spend so much time talking about the weather, it’s okay here. Also, the biting cold lets you complain and swear as much as you want. Hell, if you wanted, you could walk outside and scream “Fucking Shit Bitch Damnit!” and have a simple “man it’s cold out” excuse to forgive your horrible language.

6. The Dorm Food
We’ve all got a secret fat person hiding inside of us (mine’s Israel Kamakawiwo’ole). When you’re home in front of your family, you must hide this fat person for fear of terrifying your parents and siblings; however, in the dining halls of Northwestern, you can let that fat person run wild. With chicken tenders every day, grilled cheese always on the menu, and ice cream galore, you can indulge your disgusting gluttonous desires each and every day at Northwestern (not to be confused with your other awful desires).

5. The Classes
You’re at Northwestern – embrace your inner geek. You love that you’re struggling to get a C in Orgo. You want to discuss Nietzsche every day. And each time you go to Russian Lit, Morson gives you a mini orgasm. You’re at Northwestern for a reason, and that reason likely isn’t your amazing rapping prowess…we can’t all be Chet Haze.

4. Gratuitous Hook-Ups
You’re disgusting. I mean, you are a sick group of horny little nerds. But that’s okay – it’s part of why we love you. However, since you’re no longer at Northwestern, your game probably isn’t doing quite as well as normal. Saying “I wish I was DNA Helicase, that way I could unzip your jeans” just probably isn’t flying with that General Studies major from the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater the way it worked with that “cute” girl from your bioethics class. I know you’re trying to convince yourself that your “self-help” is just as good as any vodka-induced adventures you’ve had at NU, but you know it’s just not the same.

You don't even want to see the stock-image for "self-gratification"

3. Fucksaw and Self-Gratification Jokes
Do you want to know how many times I’ve wanted to make a comment about fucksaws and masturbating in the showers in the three days I’ve been home? A LOT. Do you know how many times I haven’t been able to? TOO FUCKING MANY. And do you know how often I’ve accidentally mentioned self-gratification in front of MY MOTHER? Once….AND THAT’S ONE TIME TOO MANY. Without being able to talk about fucksaws, waxing the dolphin, or the cold weather – I HAVE NOTHING TO TALK ABOUT ANYMORE. Since coming home, I feel like I may have to learn how to converse like a normal human being again, and I’m not ready to do that – and you probably aren’t either.

2. The Diversity of Thought
Unless you’re Rick Perry (in which case, please kindly go die in the most painful way possible), you’re probably a fan of tolerance and diversity. Northwestern provides more diversity of thought and belief than any place within 500 miles of my hometown. Though you may be fortunate enough to live in a place with rational people, the only thing my state has chosen to move forward on is reviving Pre-Civil War era policies. I appreciate Northwestern so much for how accepting it is of all people, and it’s something that you should miss and cherish as well.

1. Your Friends
I’m sure you have a ton of great friends back home. I’m grateful every day for the fantastic people I know in my hometown. But that being said, I still miss the hell out of everyone at Northwestern. Only at Northwestern will you have friends that are stumbling outside the Keg one day and then intensely developing a Chemical Engineering program the next. Your friends at NU are always there to help you stand up, and they’re certainly there when you’re falling down (you alcoholic, you). These are some of the best, most ridiculous people you will ever meet – and you’re probably suffering a little every moment you’re away from them.

There are so many reasons why you think you hate Northwestern, but you know you love and miss it there. So tough it out NU. You can make it. Soon enough you’ll be back at school just in time to freeze and die with the best student body on the planet.

10 American Historical Events That Totally Should Have Been Pregamed

7 Jul

For those of you out there in blogosphere who aren’t familiar with the up-and-coming trend of “pregaming,” it is a term that refers to the act of consuming alcohol before any event; it could be a football game, a musical, or even a 250-student lecture. Unfortunately, this trend of pregaming has only become a common cultural activity in recent years. We must wonder: How would history have been changed if previous generations were clinical alcoholics like ours is? Here are the top ten historical events that would have been infinitely better had all parties involved drained several shots of Jose Cuervo beforehand.

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