University of Utah

2 Aug 2007. Runnin' Utes? Da heck is that all about? Let's turn to My Cousin Vinny for explanation...

"Is it possible the two utes..."
"Eh, two what? What was that word?"
"What word?"
"Two what?"
"What?"
"Did you say utes?"
"Yeah, two utes."
"What is a ute??"
"Oh excuse me, your honor. Two youths."



So Joe Pesci gives you your answer. Utah's mascot is a couple of New York roughs. The feather in the logo represents the ever-watchful eye of the pigeon, nature's surveillance camera.
Don't you think it's hilarious that I have a shotglass from U of U, on the east side of SLC? You know, from Utah, the Tee totaling State? That's what I was goin' for!
...Yeah, I'm gettin' tired of the cheekiness, too. But wait'll ya see the entry for BYU! The smarm'll fly!

Desire more Joe Pesci? Of course you do.

United States Naval Academy

10 Nov 1812. John Paul Jones was caught naval gazing.
"Admiral, what are your orders?"
"Excuse me?"
"Your orders for the second fleet. Are they ready sir?"
"Oh, yes, coxswain. Communicate our need for additional rations and supplies. We must be prepared to sail at 0400 and engage at 0600."
Admiral John Paul Jones, Jr. of the young United States Navy was aboard the first fleet watching his approaching reinforcements. It was agonizing knowing that he would get absolutely no sleep during the one night he needed it most.
Unfortunately he was relieved of this worry!
All men on the deck of the USS Annapolis heard a loud but distant boom. Jones was the only one to hear the faint post-blast sizzle that told him this was not mere cannonfire.
The coxswain screamed, "Hit the...uh, wooden...ground!", adrenaline poking holes in his emergency vocabulary. Everyone fell facedown on the deck. Everyone save for Jones, who remained standing. A large blackened mass slammed into the main mast and dropped, still smoking. The midshipmen slowly got up to their feet.
"A dead animal? What does this mean, Admiral?"
Jones kicked the beast. He scanned the horizon.
"Prepare the first fleet for combat immediately. The British have fired the warpig."
******
Capt. James Cook, Jr. of the British Royal Navy and half-Hawaiian blood, grinned with anticipation. His soldiers had been offloaded onto the Virginian shore for a last-ditch ambush attempt. Cook loved traditions. He especially loved the brash intensity of the warpig, the Hawaiian warriors' martial warning. He was proud of his added twist, firing the burning boar from a cannon.
******
As non-porcine artillery began to rain down on Jones' first fleet, he contemplated why the British were retreating from the Chesapeake Bay. They must have suffered heavy losses in Maryland, so despite the shorthandedness of the first, the second fleet would make quick work of Her Majesty's sailors in the open waters of the Atlantic.
Successive blasts knocked the mizzenmast down, snapping a dozen thick ropes and hurtling iron moorings into Jones' thigh and midsection. He was pinned down. Debris continued to fall. He knew his ship would be reduced to planks, if it remained afloat at all. He had great confidence in the second fleet, but not in his own chances of survival.
"Admiral!"
"Leave me be, coxswain. I have done my duty. Go do yours."
"What shall I tell the men?"
"Tell them - and tell Cook - we have not yet begun to fight!"

University of Pittsburgh

18 Mar 2007. Petersen Events Center, you aren't fooling anyone. You're the Panthers' basketball arena who occasionally hosts graduations and visiting former stars of The Real World! Love and accept who you are! This was a spur-of-the-moment trip to Pitt to see a first round women's NCAA tournament game. Mmmmm, a thirty two ounce serving of Sprite-flavored beverage hit the spot. The day trip even included a visit to the Duquesne Incline and Primanti Bros. who give a big middle finger to lunchplate segregation and PUT THE FRENCH FRIES ON THE SANDWICH ITSELF!
Come again? Not familiar with the Duquesne Incline? Not surprising, Pittsburgh really should get the word out on this thing. Part street trolley, part ski lift, part steam engine, fully turn-of-the-century coaltown history. Back when machine parts were the size of thoroughbreds and needed the utmost durability to survive the elements. So it moves at 3 miles an hour, so what? Put yourself in a time where it was freakin' amazing that it even moved at all. At the same time when people imagined riding in a locomotive going 40 mph would crush your bones.

Ya ever seen your own insides, Jimmy?

University of Nevada, Las Vegas

6 Mar 2007. The parking lot surrounding UNLV's bookstore was filled with the dust of construction. Its basic style betrays what usually goes inside: forty dollar shots of Johnny Walker Blue or Cristal, depending on the time of day. This is one of the few campus stores where I cannot remember a single thing about the inside, so let's just say the cup came from the "Runnin' Rebels Spirit Wear" section on the ground floor. The basement was for hookers, blow, and textbooks.

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