Well, can you say BRRRR?! That’s right. It’s bone chilling temperatures and high winds for us again here in Reno.  With the cold weather comes a few things, snowmen, hot chocolate, people from Vegas freaking out like it’s “The Day After Tomorrow” and a handful of mysterious kids in “pwned noob” t-shirts walking around seemingly oblivious to the fact they have boogers frozen to the sides of their face.  But more importantly than all of these things it’s gonna change the party scene.  These changes are subtle, but they are changes all the same.  And as always, your old buddies at the SpaceSuit feel obliged to help some bruthas out.  So without further merriment, pomp, or ado:

The 15 ways party life changes when the season turns cold.

1. You can no longer be so brazen with your outdoor “only when I’m drunk” cigarette smoking.

2. If outdoors, the Sophie’s choice between wearing a mitten while you drink your beer and potentially having it slip vs. frostbite.

-OR-

The choice is clear

3. It doesn’t really matter what you wear. A really cute dress, new jeans that make your ass look great or the pair of basketball shorts you stole from your last walk of shame. You’re gonna be effin bundled like your life depended on it. Because it does.

4. There is now ice everywhere on the ground, you should probably wear a helmet.

5. There’s going to be a lot of scraggly pirate beards. You know, the ones where all of the parts don’t connect. The younger boys are trying to keep their faces warm, but they don’t yet understand that the unconnected “fuzz islands” look has never got any one laid.

6. Winter always brings way more compromising spend the night situations because you look out side and think “I’m not fucking walking home”

7. Now there’s more opportunities for jokes about the Paul Walker feelgood hit, “Eight Below

he's definitely thinking about how to teach these dogs to tokyo drift

8.Drinking “more” doesn’t always mean it’s going to get warmer. I’m sorry but standing in the Truckee River with no pants will always be freezing.
Until you die.And you will

9. We’re pretty sure glass shatters faster when it’s cold. Uninhabited commercial space downtown.. watch out!

10. It turns into a survivor type situation where you get to watch which determined whore will keep slutting it up with a short dress the furthest into the winter. You may not agree with her actions but dammit you respect her.

11. No more random shirtlessness (unless you’ve really decided to commit)

12. Finally, the cold is on your side. Everyone is much more likely to say yes to “hey, do you guys want to come back with us and check out our hot tub?”

13. Corollary to the previous point: No matter how close their building is to their apartment’s jacuzzi, it will feel 10 times that distance when it’s snowy any you’ve drunkenly elected to make this journey barefoot. Oh, and their key to the gate will never work. Ever.

14. You start gradually depleting your Christmas present funds to buy people shots. Because what are shots but little presents anyway?

15. It’s now wayyyy to cold to hang out at the mostly outdoor freight house district. No more pretending to watch baseball while you get hammered until next year (oh wait, baseball is over? who the hell knew?)

Dear Western Athletic Conference,


Wow, it’s so weird writing your full name like that.  I haven’t called you anything but Westy for the last however many years.  Wow, this is awkward, but I feel like we’ve been growing apart these last two years.  I don’t know if you’ve been getting that vibe too but if not I guess I wouldn’t be too surprised.  I feel like you’re just like, going one way and I’m going the other.  We’re like Kate and Sawyer, oh wait, you wouldn’t get that reference because you wouldn’t watch Lost with me.  You wanted to destroy my soul and speed up the apocalypse by making me watch the f&@$%ing Bad Girls Club with you on Tuesdays.  Why do I have to watch it with you?  I’ll just be in the other room and can come right over if, God forbid, there’s a really scary looking moth or something that I have to kill.  You watch what you want to watch, I’ll watch what I want to watch and we’ll meet at 11 to catch the Daily Show.  It’s the same when you make me hang out and watch Reba with you.  Newsflash, watching Reba marathons on the CW with you is my least favorite activity in the world and I’m 60% sure Reba is either the Anti-Christ or his herald.

Anyway we’re getting off topic here.  What I’m trying to say is it’s not you, it’s me. We’ve been growing apart and I’ve met someone else, their name is Mountain West Conference (MWC) or as I call them… Mounty <3. You planned to take us to cool, exotic places, Mounty actually does it. Now, every other year we’re going to be going to Las Vegas and San Diego.  You know, the places you always said we’d go before you ended up taking us back to Shitville, USA Moscow, Idaho for the 10th year in a row?  It’s just more exciting with Mounty. Call me old fashioned but you really can’t take someone to bowls in Boise that are sponsored by companies no one has ever heard of (how many MPC laptops have you seen popping up around campus?) and expect it to be exciting every time.  Not when the prospect of BCS bowls are right around the corner.


You never wanted to show me off.  I put together really good games to look nice for you.  Remember last year when I scored 70 points on San Jose State?  It was a great game, full of highlights, that I worked my ass off on.  And what recognition did I get?  A five second blurb 58 minutes into the midnight Sports Center?  What is that?  If Utah would have done that last year they would’ve got a full clips package in the first ten minutes with Lou Holtz creaming his pants halfway through and rambling on about how we remind him of his Jonny Unitas and the ‘59 Colts.  I want… no.. I DESERVE that kind of attention!  I try so hard to look good for you and you just don’t even care.

And I really hate your bitchy loser friends.  Half of perception is association.  And the conferences you’re most often compared with are losers like the Big West, Mississippi Valley Conference, and the West Coast Conference.  I cannot come back to the apartment again to find you, the WCC, and that  D-Bag Stevie Yanks stoned, eating dirty nachos off of our 2005 championship banner, and playing NCAA Football on the X-Box and not even playing as me!  Even when I’m in the room!  It’s like you don’t even care!  You want to play with Florida?  Is that what you want?  For me to be one of those slutty schools that pays it players and artificially inflates their grades so they can stay eligible?!? Well news flash Wack-o, Florida is a whore, but it’s a high-class whore who wouldn’t even look at you twice (and don’t pretend you only oogle them when you’re “playing with the fellas”, you know what pops up on your google search bar every time I’m looking for Flo-Rida videos?  “Florida/Alabama double penetration/steam cup”.  First off I’m mortified at what a “steam cup” could possibly be, but secondly at least respect me enough to delete your history! It’s not that hard!). But I digress.

You’re not the hot conference I first got together with.  Remember how hot you were when I first met you at that party?  I was with that loser Big West (although at least they were sweet and I won every year). I mean when I first got here and you, Westy, were supposed to be the up and coming “super conference”… and that was exciting.  But you let yourself go.  All these teams started leaving to go to Conference USA and yes, to Mounty, and you just didn’t care. I thought I was special. We got together because we were two attractive entities who cared about what they looked like and being something people would want.  Well a decade of letting the BYU’s of the world go and instead making Utah State a big part of your diet has taken its toll.  You look like shit.  Seriously, try fitting into the jeans I bought you from the Albuquerque Banana Republic when you got us to the Meth Bowl New Mexico Bowl in 2007, I bet you can’t even get your cottage cheese thighs 2 inches pass the waist.

Also, you're way fatter than you were in Dodge Ball

I was really hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but it has. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m better than you and I’m sorry I’m going to DO SOMETHING with my life. Actually you know what?  I take back what said in the beginning, I think the problem is you.


In the words of Alfalfa, “I hate your stinkin’ guts Darla”

-Nevada

P.S. I’m gonna need my Fraggle Rock sweat shirt back, and make sure you get all those Mac & Cheese stains out of it first.

I had an insightful chat with my brother this morning.  A chat that cut to my very core, and truly showed me how irresponsible I’ve become this summer.  You see we really haven’t written many articles this summer.  We’ve been living foot-loose and fancy free (ie we’ve been drinking heavily), and haven’t found the time to write any articles for our adoring fans (there’s at least 4 of them, maybe 2 if we don’t count ourselves).  You see,  we should have  been writing articles this summer instead of seeing if there was any fun way to blow $5 million bucks on football after we just cut 12 majors due to “underfunding” (which was a total success by the way).
Anyway, to make sure this never happens again, the Nevada SpaceSuit has taken 5 seconds away from watching the video of the gay flight attendant jumping out of the plane while we’re at work to put together this alphabet list of helpful tips to freshmen and upperclassmen who just haven’t learned.  So without further ado, here are 26 ways to put together your class schedule and manage your time now that you’re a big kid.

  1. Don’t schedule any classes at 8am.  Your teachers don’t grade on a “how hungover is this kid?” curve.
  2. If you do have an 8am class, for the love of Kaepernick make sure it’s not a 4 days a week class.  You do that and you’re just asking for your roommate to taunt you with “I didn’t even wake and bake until you were done with Spanish for an hour.  An hour bro”.
  3. Unless you work 40 hours a week, night classes should not be an option. You’ve got babes to swoon and beer to drink. and we’ll guarantee that 95.4% of the time, you won’t even show up.
  4. Take the time to go to welcome week.  In 20 years no one will give a shit what hi-jinks Peter got into on TBS’ re-run of family guy.  But everyone wants to here about that “busting out of her shell” girl from Alaska you hooked up with at the pancake breakfast.
  5. 50 minute classes =  Best.Thing.Ever.  It’s just the right amount to go on youtube without getting bored.
  6. You may not realize it but you’ve been living a lie these last 18 years.  The weekend doesn’t start on Friday, it starts Thursday at about 3:00.  All of the best parties, drink specials, and Greek Balls happen on Thursday nights.  I’m not sure why this is the case, but I’m glad it is. Don’t schedule class on Friday.
  7. And if you do schedule class on Friday it better not be after 10.  Campus turns into a ghost town every week Friday after 12:00.  If you do have a Friday afternoon class it will just be you, a big group of asian kids who are always smoking, and football players wandering around the library trying to figure out how to get out of practice.

    The quad on friday afternoons (for the most realistic listening re-creation, imagine that indian flute noise playing the background as you look at this picture)

  8. If you’re going to rush, take your time to test out all of the frats and let them woo you a little bit.  However, please be aware of the blurry line between wooing, and some brother from SAE trying to put his finger inside you.
  9. Always take time to check out the latest edition of Coffin & Keys.  C&K is just  like the Nevada Space Suit, but with 3 times the same recycled dick jokes and absurd amounts of derogatory comments about women… and almost half the funny.
  10. Don’t believe me? I haven’t seen this edition yet but I can guarantee there will be at least 3 jokes about getting some Baberaham Lincoln and/or phi delt to “slob your knob”
  11. . One out of four freshmen fail out after their first semester.  LEAVE  TIME TO DO YOUR HOMEWORK. I can guarantee you that the fun you’ll have the  four to five years you’re in college will more than make up for you missing the totes rad kegger at the Edge apartments while you studied for your math test. Also, I’m sure you’ll enjoy that 3 million dollars more you’re expected to earn over your lifetime if you finish. P.S. the keggers at the Edge are never that rad.
  12. Freshman year is just the beginning. Usually junior year (20-21, IF YOU STAY ON TRACK) is generally your peak. You’re socially established, you’ve grown into your looks (aka shed the freshman 15) and you’ve mastered the hangover.
  13. The closer you are to being late to your class, the more the shuttle driver will screw around.  The same people who won’t wait 5 seconds for you at 12:45 are feeling easy like a Sunday morning at 12:58.

    Not breaking a lot of land speed records.

  14. Don’t buy the hype, you really only have to do laundry twice a month.  Boxers work just as good inside out.
  15. If you want to get a treadmill at Lombardi don’t go around five.
  16. If you want to see boobie-bouncing city (the best of all cities), only go to Lombardi around five.
  17. All this spare time you have now?  Do something fun or creative with it.  You can play Call Of Duty 2 your whole life.  But only in college can you take a body painting class you find on Craigslist (although don’t actually do that example, going to a body painting class you found on Craigslist sounds like getting the carpool lane to your own murder).
  18. Don’t go to the Overlook around noon if you have somewhere to be in an the next 30 minutes.  Between glut of people trying to get good Chinese food (wayyyy better than Panda express) and the general malaise/third grade level of change counting of the checkout people, it’s gonna take a while to get out of there.
  19. Get your free football and basketball tickets early.  Nothing sucks like having to stand in line (and away from the tailgating area) to pay $5 for a ticket you could’ve got for free if you hadn’t been so busy watch The Price Is Right.
  20. That being said, still take time to watch The Price Is Right.  Ain’t no party like a TPIR party.
  21. If you happen to be drunk somewhere out of Sierra Spirit range.  Wait.  Use this time to wander around, bum some cigs, and catch up on your drunk dials.  The time spent sobering up will be no where near the time of community service you’ll have to do if/when you get a DUI.
  22. The shuttle ride up to the health center is always worth it for the free condoms.  Definitely shorter than a ride to the coat hanger and poison store.
  23. If you spend more than an hour per day thinking about marijuana procurement you’re in big trouble.
  24. Schedule your classes with your friends now.  Chances are you’ll all have different majors and English 102 is going to be your last hurrah before you’re going to have to branch out and start doing group projects with kids who must be here on some sort of retarded kid outreach program for people who don’t do any of the work.
  25. Don’t dedicate to much of your time freshmen year to one boy or girl.  There’s 17,000 people at this school. You’re 18 years old and way to young to be making any kind of commitment now.  Get out there, meet people, befriend someone from another country, hook up with a fat chick, it’s all good baby, you’re in college now, get out of your shell.And P.S. if the boy or girl you’re dedicating all this time to is still in high school… Just stick a butt plug in yourself and change your name to Sapphire. It would be a lot less gay then what you’re doing now.

    Hi, my name is Constance. I want to talk to you about prom committee and ruin your life.

  26. Save up your STD tests for the free testing weeks at the health center.  It’s kind of like cashing in all the points on the mac and cheese boxes all at once.  Except instead of a cheap bike, you get herpes medicine.

Lookin' good blondie

Lookin' good blondie

So for those of you who missed it (although it didn’t seem like many of you did) last night was a classic one for the Little Waldorf,  all the stereotypes were there.  You know, the people who will always show up at the Wal on a Thursday night. We know who they are, but incase you don’t (what are you, socially retarded?) … Here are our favorites.

a. The guy who you really only marginally know but they act like you’re closer than Ernie and Bert.  This guy is always either phenomenally wasted, there pretty much by himself, or both.  You have to look out for this character, he’s probably not rolling that deep and so he is a danger to suddenly become part of your group.  Other people who came with you will start to question your ability as a judge of character for wanting to hang out with this guy.  He’ll probably also try to bring up some story he remembers from a long time ago that involved you and him.  It’s almost always either a story about one “hella crazy CH discussion” or some test that was “way too hard bro.  Like seriously, eff that ess”.

b. The over-hugger.  This person (like many in this list) will hug you either every 6 minutes, or every time you leave and come back, whichever comes first.  They are sure to spill at least one of your drinks with their quick mtions and flailing limbs.  Also, they will want to give you there number at least 3 or 4 times throughout the night (though due to their drunkenness at least one of these will by a totally mystifying stream of seven or eight 5’s).

c.  The person who keeps going outside to spark one up.  They swear they only smoke when they drink (however as they all have their own packs we must often examine the validity of this claim).

d. Greg Bailor.  Seriously, this guy is there every time and not just Thursdays either.  Why they don’t have either a bust of him mounted outside or list him as an official sponsor is beyond us.  This guy is always good for a cheers to whatever you’re talking about or for a detailed explanation of how he will some day become governor (which btdub, convinces me every time).

Governor Bailor and his "constituencies"

Governor Bailor and his "constituencies"

e.  That Mexican dude in the cowboy hat who tries to hustle everyone at pool.  Apparently we keep him young.

f. That person who is one of your gf/bf’s “best friend” from freshman year (aka they made out… a lot).  They insist on doing shots together, which your better half tells you is “not a big deal” and “just between friends” and “look, he just knows kamikazes are my favorite drink so he keeps buying me them.”  This guy is a fuck bag.

g. The guy who creepily lingers around the dance floor but never actually tries to dance with anyone.  This will usually be a heavier set gentleman in a baggy South Pole shirt with a K-Fed beard and a half empty rum and coke.

h. Us.  Are you kidding? We fuckin’ love this place.

i. The frat guy who only talks to you when you two see each other at the Wal. This way, he has enough liquid courage to hit on you. God forbid he’d talk to you in “real” life.  You have beautiful eyes, by the way.

j.  The crowd of people that apparently go to school here, but you’ve never seen them in your life.  Seriously. Who are these people? Like, not even remotely familiar. (Note: They may also be people who don’t go to school here.  They graduated high school in ’04 and now they don’t have anywhere else to go.  They will over compensate by making a ton of jokes about Glick or Ault).

k. My business card. Yep. Check it out in one of the horseshoes nailed to the wood pillars. He’s always there.. day in.. and day out.. always backing every decision I make.

l.  The line cutter. I mean we don’t have to wait in line, we know Greg Bailor. But what about everybody else? That line is sometimes 100 people long.  These are probably the same people who are hitting on your bf/gf.  Again, fuckbags.

m. The same seven bartenders – did you know those aren’t event their real names? Can you name them all? We can. Cuban, Big, Saturn, Skip, Miggity, Frau and BeastMaster

n. All the snow-loving, 4 XL wearing, greasy long haired creatures that have no where else to go since Fritz’s shut down.

o. The girl from your senior class that got pregnant. Surprise! It’s not yours though. Close call.

p. Those beezies that stay in the bathroom taking MySpace pictures of themselves in the mirror. Note: MySpace isn’t cool anymore, yo.

q. The girl that keeps getting shots for everyone.  She will inevitably do some combination of the following three things: throw up on you, make out with you, and/or ask you to take her to Jack In The Box.

1. Take a picture on the howling wolf statue outside of Mackay Stadium. The climb is tough and a little uneven, but the view is great. And the picture will be epic.

2. Do a round of shots (plural) with your friends and head on over to that 5:30 class. Not only will the teacher be 10 times as funny, but the guy next to you makes for an excellent vomit receptacle.

3. Swim to the bottom of Manzanita Lake. There’s treasure down there! Just kidding, that’s gross. And you will probably die.

4. Visit all the every all-you-can-eat events put on by Greeks. This means D-Hop, Sausage Fest, SKetti Night, The Great Salmonella Cook Out… just remember to drink before hand. Otherwise, the lines are unbearable and you’re in a Greek house. Lose-Lose.

5. Rush the field at Mackay Stadium after a big win (preferably UNLV). Its always a challenge to avoid getting trampled while drunk. There is also no greater sense of campus-community hugging and jumping up and down with the stranger next to you wearing a FUNLV shirt.

6. Go back to the dorm room you had freshman year and make new friends. Bring a six pack as a peace offering. You’d be surprised how much it hasn’t changed.

7. Go to the Planetarium and see Darkside of the Moon.. that shit is trippy.

8. Attend campus events. You pay something like $5 a credit to your student government (It’s called ASUN) so all the free stuff they do.. barbecues, t-shirts, rallies, awkward rides with Campus Escort… you already paid for. Get your money’s worth.

9. Visit Lake Tahoe. I’m not talking about going to the ski resorts to shred the gnar pow-pow. I mean that crystal clear, blue and  beautiful bounty of water.  Just watch out for Tahoe Tessie. I heard she bites. Big time.

10. How many times can you hear this one:  learn the fuckin’ Fight Song. It rhymes so it’s not that hard.

11. Carve your name in a desk some where in the Knowledge Center. The place still doesn’t even look used! We lost a lot of history when we moved from Getchell, so it’s time for you to make your mark. No pun intended. Or was it?