Advertisements
Tag Archives: vomit

An Interpretation of a Northwestern Tour

3 Mar
(via Northwestern)

Remember green things?  (via Northwestern)

SCENE: Northwestern University’s Campus. An unexpected blizzard is beginning to pick up force. Temperatures hover in the single digits. A Northwestern tour group leaves the tour guide building and heads north to take in the sights.

Tour Guide: The weather usually isn’t like this, I promise!

Interpretation: Yeah, usually it’s a lot worse. Notice how you’re able to expose parts of your flesh to the air? It’s almost NEVER nice enough to do that! You guys lucked out!

Tour Guide: We’ll have to go down this path right here, since university construction crews are working on improving and beautifying our campus on all the other paths, and they’re currently closed. But soon Northwestern will be even better! Exciting things in the works!

Interpretation: Continue reading

Advertisements

Sherman Ave Freshman Guide: The Vomelette

17 Jan

There are many extra-curricular activities in which to participate on any given college campus.  We, as students, are all busy with classes, of course, but we’re often even busier with things besides classes.  These extra-curricular activities, all of them, any of them, are highly enriching, and you should absolutely do them and meet people and expose yourself to new experiences and all of those great things.

Imagine this, but with a slightly green tone, and you've got it.

Imagine this, but with a slightly greenish tone, and you’ve got it.

However, there is a chance that, with certain extra-curricular activities, you will need to communicate to the current members of that certain extra-curricular activity that you are a worthy “prospect,” for lack of a better term.  You may have to do this through an interview, a feat of physical strength, or other such “tests.”   But for a certain extra-curricular activity, you may be required to (or rather encouraged, since you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to but if you don’t do this thing you might get, for example, “taunted,” for lack of a better term, in some manner), say, digest something, whether it be a food or drink; and, for a certain extra-curricular activity, the name of which is irrelevant and unnecessary to give, this food or drink may be, to most, undesirable to consume.

Continue reading

The Strangely Articulate Inner Monologue of My Drunk Roommate

28 Oct

Oh my, I seem to be rather intoxicated. I don’t recall this hallway being so long—or quite so blurry. My journey back from that delightful fraternity gathering was a trying one, indeed! Ah well, here we are at my dormitory. Room 204. Splendid. Now if I could just fit the key into the lock…hm, how peculiar my fine motor skills seem to be failing me at this moment in time. I suppose that 9th Jolly Rancher shot was not one of my brightest ideas! Ha! Ha! Wait…I think I hear my lovely roommate coming to my assistance. I should probably immediately notify her of my current state of intoxication!

Continue reading

A Review of Game of Thrones Season 3 Episode 3 “The Walk of Punishment” (by Guest Author Timmy Jenkinson, 6th Grade)

15 Apr

(Note: As part of our new student writer heinous-reach program, Sherman Ave has decided to partner with Evanston Township Middle Schools to give you content created by younger minds, and thus foster a healthy and positive interest in writing. Education is a vital part of a child’s life, and we at Sherman Ave understand that and yadda yadda yadda Michelle Obama.  If you know a talented student who would like to participate in our program, keep it to yourself.)

Moreover, Joffrey is a total jerkface

Moreover, Joffrey is a total jerkface

Hello!

My name is Timmy Jenkinson and this is my report about episode 3 of Game of Thrones this season.  A bunch of really cool stuff happened, Greyjoy escaped and also Robb Stark and a bunch of old people talked to each other about the war.  His wife is kind off ugly.

In another important scene, the fat guy saw a girl give birth tooo a person, it was gross. My dad told me that they have to kill the baby because it’s a man.  Ther’s a rule that those people have that they kill every baby that’s a man.  My dad likes Game of Thrones almost as much as he likes Captain Morgan.  He didn’t say that, but that was my “observation.”

Continue reading

Incompetent Student Joins 90-Minute Club

8 Mar

EVANSTON – Sources report that McCormick freshman Aaron Butler proudly joined the famed “90-Minute Club” earlier this evening after experiencing a bout of uncontrollable vomiting, defecation, and sneezing that forced him to drop out of Dance Marathon after a mere hour and a half of dancing.

Butler beamed fervently as he recounted the incident that led to his ejection from the DM tent, starting with a hefty late lunch at Edzo’s Burger Shop only 3 hours before Dance Marathon began.  Butler cited this as the catalyst for not only the “mad case of the runs,” but also the “jetstream of wretch” that bystanders estimated at a velocity of 15 miles an hour. Continue reading

The Top Ten Things That Make Cobra Lederham’s Day

7 Dec
Then apply the Sherman Ave. We need people like you.

Consult a doctor immediately if this picture does not warm the frigid cockles of your heart.

Presented herein void of context, editorial insight, or drilldo references.

10.)     Waking up to discover I’ve done my dishes while blacked out – Turns out this maid also cooks great chili and likes to piss on the only rug in my apartment.

9.)       Finding that no one stole my bike and/or bike wheels – Every day is a blessing.

Continue reading

How to react to your first episode of Gossip Girl

16 Oct

Hands down the hottest 20-something to play a high schooler in years.

It all started with Monte Carlo[1].

Well, that’s inaccurate, it all started with an accelerated math course in elementary school but to follow the threads back that long would just be boring[2] so we’re going with the abbreviated version and it all started with Monte Carlo.

I used to watch a new movie every day which is relatively easy to do between Netflix and OnDemand and, you know, the internet. One of the last movies in this multi-year habit was Monte Carlo, starring Selena Gomez, Leighton Meester and a blonde woman who seemed very replaceable the entire time. The movie is an intense look into the differences between people as stipulated by classes and also there is a scene where they play polo and also Selena Gomez meets up with her true love while casually working at a Romanian charter school. Also Cory Monteith is in the movie and he doesn’t sing[3] so that’s a plus I guess.

Regardless, I watched the entire movie trying to figure out where I had seen Leighton Meester before. My first guess was Episodes, best known as the show that earned Matt LeBlanc a Golden Globe for playing Matt LeBlanc. However, a quick trip down Wikipedia lane proved that incorrect[4]. I also that it might be Elizabeth Moss but it turns out that Leighton Meester and Elizabeth Moss are two seperate people and only one of them has kissed pre-skinny Jonah Hill.

Then I forgot about it.

Just kidding, then I watched Monte Carlo again because it was on HBO before Real Sex[5] and I like having very confused junk. The second time around I discovered that the film was a clever commentary on a gendered society done through a gender-inverted version of the classic parable, the prince and the pauper and also the replaceable blonde woman is a waitress right in that douchey French guys face and also they could have made a very shocking sequel in which Riley, the carefree Australian goes all Wolf Creek[6] on Leighton Meester.

After this viewing I forgot about it entirely.

Several months later I was at a neighborhood joint I frequent often[7] when Gossip Girl came on. My only knowledge of Leighton Meester up until this point was as the wounded Meg Kelly. A woman driven by academic ambition who learns to accept levity into her life, by way of a very attractive Australian.

In Gossip Girl she plays Blair Waldorf, who is a huge bitch.

Blair is manipulative and just a meanie-pants in general. In specific, in the three episodes of Gossip Girl I saw she blackmailed two people and was really mean to another one and then kissed all the boys and I believe I’ve discovered the perfect analogy to what watching Gossip Girl was like.

Watching Gossip Girl was like the first time I went to visit my brother[8] in college and we got into a huge street fight with some other guys and then went downtown to a suite and sat around in the hallway passing around bottles of André and then me and this other guy got hungry so we went downstairs and ate Popeye’s. Gossip Girl is that chicken. I enjoyed the show a lot at the time, but later when I try to access it again it has turned into shit via entirely normal physical processes.

I have fond memories of watching Gossip Girl, but I’m not sure if that’s because I liked the show or because I was watching it with good company and I was in a great mood. That said, watching the show reminded me of something once said by noted cultural critic and current expatriate John Edwin Foster regarding the inevitable proletariat revolution.

J.E. and I were watching It’s Complicated[9], a movie where there are literally zero considerations for things like money and whatnot, and J.E. told me that when the proletariat revolts it will be because of It’s Complicated. They will rise up banners of fire and counter-oppression and as we look down from the diamond balcony we will have very little soul in our argument and they will justly rend us limb from limb.

Gossip Girl works in substititution for It’s Complicated[10].

The entire show could be summed up as #firstworldproblems. In the episode I watched, a character was removed from all his money, a problem he solved not through any great effort. He just fucked a cougar. Then he got called out on it and the explanation “I fucked a cougar because I needed the guapamole” was perfectly sufficent.

Similarly, someone’s mom was running a fashion show and the cool kids had to show up in order to make sure it was covered by the press. The cool kids did show up but the models didn’t so they had to be the models!

At this point, someone reading this should have bridled as the unfairly one-sided portrayal of Gossip Girl by someone who has admittedly seen a very small amount of the show. “What gives him the right,” you may be asking, “to decry such a show? It’s not like they’re trying to make a really deep show or anything.”

Touche.

Some people don’t know this about me[11], but I’ve seen every episode of Sex and the City and both movies. While the second movie is not really worth mentioning[12], I love the show. My mother suggested the reason why she likes Sex and the City and not shows like Desperate Housewives or Cougartown is because the show, on a very elementary level, is about friendship. That’s what seemed to be missing while I watched Gossip Girl. Blair and Serena have moments of comradery but their relationship is built on mutual antagonism.

The men in Sex and the City are mostly[13] one-dimensional coitus puppets. But the show uses them as plot devices to advance the women. If Berger hadn’t broken up with Carrie via post-it-note then we would have never realized how he, an intellectual foil to her, represented all her insecurities in a relationship and her constant desire to find easy happiness over lasting contentment.

When Chuck hits Blair it’s shocking, but it’s shocking in a way that American Psycho[14] is shocking. There’s no emotional fear, just a physical revulsion to the act. Patrick Bateman was created as a satire of east-coast elite, and so his violence is somewhat representative of the arrogance and incosiderateness of an entire class. When Chuck hits Blair it becomes apparent that you are watching either very deeply layered cultural criticism or a soap opera.

This begs a further question: what is wrong with a soap opera?

There is a prevailing theory that stating a genre informs the experience of the viewer on a fundamental level[15]. If you watch Gossip Girl through the lens that the production value would suggest, then ultimately you will be disappointed. The show is not as glitzy as the location scouting would suggest, it is base, and that is not an insult though it may sound like one. It is less than it claims to be, sure, but if we learned anything from the Nolan Batman trilogy[16] it was it’s not what you say, but what you do that makes you who you are. Despite Gossip Girl‘s vehement claims to the contrary, it is just a tabloid you peruse while waiting to check out at the grocery store. You might enjoy it, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but you should stay conscious of its deliberate sensationalism which fundamentally undermines any sensationalist aspirations it may have.

A final note:

Metafilmic influence is a crazy thing.

Remember Monte Carlo[17]? That was where I saw Leighton Meester for this first time. Usuaully, when an actor has a definitive role[18] it informs how the audience views them in subsequent roles (or previous roles viewed subsequently). This can also be true for the first role you see an actor in.

Imagine watching Gossip Girl through the lens formed by Monte Carlo. Blair Waldorf becomes an act to appear tough, a protection against something. But what?

Does Riley leave Meg after Monte Carlo ends? Is Blair just a girl who opened up her heart, only to have it Temple of Doom‘d, forcing her to act as heartless as possible to avoid being hurt again? Maybe all of her politicking is intentionally self-destructive, as she has seen how the only thing she needed for happiness was an oft-shirtless Australian.

Do you think that Blair ever finds herself sitting by a window in winter? She looks out onto the snow and sees not a blanket but a smothering force. She remembers the beach in Morocco where he told her that the key was not to worry and so she doesn’t. She laments. She ponders the consistency of words when their speaker has been proven to be so inconsistent. She might run a finger over her lips, but only if she is sure no one is watching.

Her phone vibrates. Serena wants to get drunk because she can taste Conneticut in her mouth and she wants to drown it out anyway possible.

When they are having sex with their boyfriends, they’ll think of each other.

It will not be a sexual thought. It will be the absolute misery that comes from realizing that in all of existence there is only one other person who understands your position, and that’s because she is also on her back, legs up in the air and over-priced liquor in her stomach too.

Later that night Blair will turn her head to the side as if to vomit, but nothing will come up. Her stomach has become too fortified against all the poison she ingests.[19]


[1]   I was trying to come up with the name Monte Carlo once and said Montenegro. Very different films, I recommend neither.

[2]   A lot of the time in grades 6-8 would be spent at Yu-Gi-Oh tournaments, a notoriously difficult game to report on.

[3]   I feel very bad for a lot of the actors in Glee because how can any other work be fulfilling after that?

[4]   In my more vain moments I like to imagine that there is a conspiratorial council dictating rapid-fire changes to Wikipedia just to foil the discovery of pleasant coincidinces in my life. Also I was banned from editing Wikipedia so I’m still a little sore about the whole thing.

[5]   There’s a really good drinking game where you drink and watch Real Sex and wonder what went wrong to lead you to this point.

[6]   This is a movie I recommend. If more people see it, then they’ll get what I mean when I drunkenly threaten to Wolf Creek their ass.

[7]   It’s called the Kitten Shack and three Zeta’s live there because only the best can wear the crown.

[9]   I liked It’s Complicated but then I really like Roxanne so maybe I’m just a Steve Martin fan

[10] So does Catcher in the Rye, sorry.

[11] All of you who don’t know me shouldn’t know this, but some people who do know me also don’t know this.

[12] Think Godfather III

[13] Except Aidan. Carrie and Aidan forever.

[14] I only own three DVD’s: American Psycho, Silence of the Lambs, and Remember the Titans.

[15] This is why Rian Johnson never told the cast of Brick that they were making a noire film. Genre conventions, etc.

[16] Those movies are worth watching a few times, which is independent of how good/enjoyable they are.

[17] You didn’t think I was never going to come back to it?

[18] So for John Lithgow, clearly it’s The World According to Garp

[19] The necessary accusation is that in order to write fan-fiction one must, on some level, be a fan.

5 Profile Poses That Are Worse Than The Music of Creed

9 Oct

I guess it could be worse.

Here at the Ave, we are devoted to promoting and disseminating positive images throughout the internet. Which is why it’s time you salty motherfuckers finally learned a thing or two about profile pictures. The following profile poses are to Facebook as the music of Creed is to all that is holy.

Duckface Mirror pics
If you are standing in your bathroom taking your own picture YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO SEE YOURSELF LOOKING LIKE WHAT HAPPENED WHEN COURTNEY LOVE FUCKED A PLATYPUS. Same goes for this pose’s older sister, “Selfie From A Downward Angle,” otherwise known as the “Please Note That Contrary To Popular Opinion I Have Some Cleavage” shot.

Honestly, I don’t get it: society has put more effort into attempting to stigmatize the duckface and all its permutations than attempting to render urinal conversations between strangers dishonorable. And somehow it’s still a pervasive problem.

Head Tilt Hair Toss
Hey Head, can you please embody the sentiment of “I want so badly to be horizontal with you if you catch my drift that I might just fall over now srrrssssly though I’m rully off-balance”? Now Hair, subjugate the entire photo with your dyed n’ fried luster.  Okay, everybody look natural!

Kissing the Significant Other
You had to ask a third party take that photo for you. You literally subjected another human being to the sight of your slightly-less-than-moderately-attractive bodies pressed against one another in an outward simulation of affection. You posted that picture with the knowledge that most of your Facebook friends will become reunited with their long-lost lunches upon sight of this desperate attempt to document that you are indeed capable and worthy of love.

The only way that this is even slightly acceptable is if that photo is the documentation of the foursome about to take place between you, your lover, the photographer, and that seagull in the frame that’s clearly scoping you out. Otherwise, please go buttchug arsenic.

Skinny Arm
                  A) Used Seriously

OH MY GOD UR HAIR LOOKS ZOOO PRETTY

Use of the skinny arm is strongly correlated with use of Head Tilt Hair Toss. Use of the Head Tilt Hair Toss is strongly correlated with Everyone Thinks You’re A Dumbfuck Ass-souffle With A Lobotomy.

Just be careful, kids.

   B) Used Ironically

You’re encouraging them. Stop encouraging them.

Arm Around Badly Cropped Friend
You douchebag. That’s probably the only guy that had the cajones to be around you after The Cucumber Incident in high school sex ed, and you clearly don’t deserve him. Instead of appreciating his presence in your life, you decided that you look so damn good in that picture that you didn’t need him. Or maybe he was the good-looking one, and you realized that you pale in comparison. Whatever the reason, your subpar skills with the “crop” button make you look like a frattier and significantly less attractive Bethany Hamilton. Reevaluate your life, you stupid fuck.

Look, I get it. I’m a Sherman Ave writer; we love pretending we’re attractive too. But in all seriousness, stop spending all your funtime trying to look good on Facebook. Because you probably don’t.

Super Tuesday Predictions

6 Mar

Wolf Blitzer can't stop trimming his beard in anticipation.

It’s the moment we’ve all been waiting for. The closest thing we’ve got to a national primary. The kind of day Karl Rove and George Stephanopoulos have wet dreams about. The moment we finally find out just how ambivalent Americans feel about Mitt Romney. It’s Super Tuesday! Follow our state-by-state guide for a comprehensive examination of how these 10 states will select their 2012 Republican nominee.

OHIO
I’ll be honest. Most of my knowledge regarding the state of Ohio comes from either Bristol Bacchus or Cleveland jokes. But if this state thought that it would be a good idea to induct the Beastie Boys and Neil Diamond into the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame, then I’m not sure how well I can trust the judgment of its citizens. The race between Santorum and Romney might be more unpredictable than a LeBron James televised announcement, but I think Romney pulls ahead after he is quoted at a campaign stop admitting that, like LeBron, he’s working on an autobiography but just can’t come up with a title.

GEORGIA
At the time of me writing this post, the New York Times has already called Georgia in favor of Gingrich with less than 1% of the polls reporting. Which is a relief, as it saves me the time of having to come up with jokes about Sherman’s March to the Sea, Coca-Cola, peaches, or how the 76 delegates up for grabs seems like a remarkably similar figure to what I assume the ex-Congressman’s BMI looks like.

OMG guyzzz y doesnt nybody lyke me??!?

TENNESSEE
Just once I want to see Mitt down a fifth of Jack, stumble through the electric slide at a Nashville honky tonk, drunk dial Tipper Gore, and finish the night sobbing outside of Graceland. I think if he can pull all four off before the polls close, he might have a fighting chance is stealing this Southern state from Gingrich. At least as much of a fighting chance as Johnston and Beauregard had at the Battle of Shiloh.

ALASKA
After ringing endorsements from Balto and Jewel, Ron Paul carries the Alaska primary by appealing to voters’ enthusiasm for legalized weed to help get through the winter and increase appreciation for the Northern Lights. Rumors abound that Gingrich promised to “drill baby drill” Sarah Palin if he was victorious, but are dismissed by Newt as a smear campaign invented by the devious liberal media hell-bent on distracting the American people from the real issues at stake in this election.

MASSACHUSETTS
In a surprise upset, Governor Romney arrives in a time machine from 2003 to defeat the current conservative incarnation of Mitt. The 2003 Romney also extols on the virtues of comprehensive health care, the success of the invasion of Iraq, and the musical brilliance of Evanescence.

IDAHO
What’s bland, white, and favored by many Irish Catholics? The Republican Party! Also, potatoes. Seeing that Idaho has a lot of both, I predict that a bland white Republican will win the Idaho caucus. Or maybe just a really fat potato dressed in a suit that many voters mistake for Newt Gingrich.

NORTH DAKOTA
North Dakota sucks so much, it’s developed an inferiority complex towards its neighbor to the South whose main claims to fame include a palace made of corn and a brief cameo appearance in North by Northwest. The state’s main exports are natural gas, lonesome prairie wind, tumbleweed, and depression. Even the nuclear missile silos left as soon as humanly possible. Like my seventh-grade self at the middle school dance, North Dakota’s willing to devote itself entirely to the first poor soul who shows it a shred of interest. All Romney has to do is show up and call North Dakota within the next three days to seal the deal.*

Pyrotechnics would really bolster his campaign stops

OKLAHOMA
The official rock song of Oklahoma is “Do You Realize??” by The Flaming Lips, which is pretty awesome until you imagine every citizen in the state singing “Everyone you know one day will die!,” and that the closest competition to The Flaming Lips for this prestigious title was the All-American Rejects’ “Move Along.” This, along with the fact that Oklahomans couldn’t come up with anything more original for their actual state song than fucking Rodgers and Hammerstein means that this state is bound to go for Ron Paul.

VERMONT
So long as the citizens of Vermont can find enough time to vote in between their busy schedule of wearing flannel, tapping for maple syrup, and not showering, I bet they go with the pride and joy of the Northeast, Scott Brown.

VIRGINIA
Considering Rick Santorum’s penchant for desperately holding on to socially conservative values that went out of vogue in the 1960s, the former Senator’s statement that Chief Justice Warren’s ruling in Loving v. Virginia “makes me want to spew some sort of vile amalgamation of vomit, semen, feces, and bile out of every orifice possible,” provides the essential vitriol necessary to win this key swing state despite not even making it on the ballot.

——————————————————————————————————————————
*Imagine, if you will, the charming Mitt Romney sauntering up to North Dakota, standing in the corner looking forlornly at all the cool kids being courted by swarthy Super PACs, and asking it to slow dance with him while Jessica Simpson’s “Take My Breath Away” plays in the background. I bet North Dakota would immediately take Romney home to Fargo and let him frack her all night.

525,600 p-trips: A look back at Year 1 of the Shermanavian Calendar

26 Jan

We hear founding stories and histories almost every day – “George Washington won this battle,” “Paul Revere made that ride,” “Thomas Jefferson boinked those slaves,” etc.  But today’s founding story is something much more substantial and heroic than most.  So squeeze yourself into that zebra-print speedo, pour yourself a quad-shot of Jameson, and take a seat, because TODAY IS SHERMAN AVE’S FIRST BIRTHDAY!

Look away, Winnie the Pooh. You don't want to see this.

We all remember our first birthday.  Actually, none of us remember our first birthday, but we’ve always just assumed that it consisted primarily of cupcakes and self-defecation.  And here at Sherman Ave, we intend to celebrate our birthday in the same way.  But instead of cupcakes, we have strippers, and instead of self-defecation, we have…wait, just kidding, we will definitely have self-defecation.

However, since our readers span far and wide and not all of them can come celebrate our anniversary with us, we want to celebrate with our readers by reflecting on Sherman Ave’s first year.  Thus, without any further ado, I present to you:  An exhaustive timeline of Sherman Ave’s history!

C. 10,000 BC:  Archaeological evidence points to the first alcoholic beverages.  Although it came about several millennia before any of Sherman Ave writers squirmed out of the womb, this invention would greatly motivate, inspire, and ultimately humiliate the writing staff.

July 2, 1776:  The Declaration of Independence is signed, establishing America’s separation from the pretentious twattitude of the British Empire.  This country would go on not only to host the birth of every Sherman Ave writer (with the exception of Señorita Margarita Puñeta Fellatiata, who was obviously born in Egypt), but the core values of free speech, free press, and free heinousness would create a fostering environment for Sherman Ave.

He's wearing the Demos jersey only as an admirable form of self-discipline.

December 16, 2008:  Morton O. Schapiro is named the 16th president of Northwestern University.  At this point, little was known about the man’s past, but the whole world would soon know of Morty’s legend: his unthinkable assortment of purple attire, his supreme lordship over the Evanston City Council, and, of course, his massive, massive dong.

October 14, 2010:  On this fateful evening in Evanston, Illinois, Ross Packingham and Evander Jones meet in a way that only true heroes do:  Drunkenly skinny-dipping in Lake Michigan and subsequently running from the police.

January 26, 2011:   Sherman Ave is founded.  What began with a review of an awesome rap hit single would soon evolve into the biggest power-trip that has graced the world since Idi-Amin was in power.

February 14, 2011:  Rebecca Black’s viral music video, “Friday,” is released on YouTube.  While the song wouldn’t go viral for a few more weeks, its existence aided and perpetuated the kind of rampant heinousness to which Sherman Ave dedicates itself.

February 21, 2011:   Professor John Michael Bailey rocks/vibrates/indefinitely turns off the Northwestern student body with a sexual demonstration involving a fucksaw.  While no member of Sherman Ave has yet been fucksawed (“yet” being the operative word – President’s Day is often a gamechanger), this incident was basically a gift to Sherman Ave, and we have made a concerted effort to reference fucksaws in every article we possibly can.

Getting fucksawed? Or having sex dreams about Sherman Ave?

March 28, 2011:  Sir Edward Twattingworth III posts an article about a recent experience encountering Our Lord and Savior Morty Schapiro in Paris.  This event would become something about which Sir T-Worth power-trips on an hourly basis.

July 1-3, 2011:  Evander Jones, Blaise Bernard, Ross Packingham, Sir Twattingworth, Ginger LeatherDream, and their friend Jessica go to Michigan to enjoy a leisurely weekend and soulful celebration of America’s independence.  What resulted from this gathering was exactly what one would expect:

  • ·         A three hour time period spent heavily intoxicated in a 100-degree barn
  • ·         Recreation of classic American art
  • ·         A photograph of Ross Packingham and Evander Jones emulating Jack and Rose from “Titanic”
  • ·         Blaise Bernard wielding a butcher’s knife and preparing dinner, despite her inability to form coherent sentences
  • ·         Vomit
  • ·         The emergence of the word “heinous”

Ross Packingham non-verbally proclaims his love for patriotic cookie cakes.

August 10, 2011:  Evander Jones begins the Sherman Ave Freshman Guide – a series of articles that would corrupt freshmen from all walks of life, and also (more importantly) help Sherman Ave get off the ground by appealing exclusively to an alcohol-deprived demographic.

October 25, 2011:  Generation II takes its place, as Sherman Ave brings on seven new writers.  Sadly, the writers did not know at that point that they were only entering a long and grueling initiation process which may or may not have included facial contact with a 14-inch gummy worm dildo.

January 24, 2012:  Ross Packingham and Evander Jones submit paperwork for what many call an “apartment”; the request would probably not be processed if the landlord had even the slightest notion of what is implied by “Sherman Ave Headquarters.”

Morty, Sherman Ave's communal pet.

January 26, 2012:   Sherman Ave turns one.  Not a big deal or anything.  OH WAIT, JUST KIDDING, WE’RE GOING TO BE POWER-TRIPPING RELENTLESSLY FOR ETERNITY.

Thanks for a great year, readers.  We’ll continue to supply you all with articles, as long as you continue to supply us with narcissistic validation.  Happy birthday!!!