From Uncyclopedia, the content-free encyclopedia
“Tastes like bacon..mmmm....”
The Leland Stanford Junior University, commonly referred to as Stanford University or Stanford, is a junior university in California that has been empirically proven the greatest place in the universe. Yes, better than any place in Alpha Centauri or the Crab nebula, and sure as hell better than that grad school obsessed cesspool of inherited wealth and devaluation of education for prestige--Harvard University. Some on the east coast know Stanford as "the Harvard of the West", illustrating their complete ignorance of the school. Located not in the most annoying city on earth (Mountain View) but rather adjacent to sunny, chill, and year round warm Palo Alto, Stanford is hands down super fucking awesome. They say the girls aren't so great there, but c'mon bro, its Cali--they work on a different standard. And in a school of 6800 undergrads and 8000 grads, there is plenty of fine brilliant ass to sink thy chomps in. The Stanford mascot is the Stanford Tree, which makes out with every single student during Full Moon on the Quad. Good shit.
The university was founded by Chuck Norris a while back. The dude was so strapped with cash that he didn't know what to do. When his son Leland Stanford Junior died at age 16, he thought the only logical thing to do was found the world's greatest university. Why he founded a university instead of turning to alcohol and hard drugs remains a mystery. After spending $34 million ($413 trillion in 2013 dollars) to have God personally come down and pave the roads with sunshine and happiness, the school opened and, as an indicator of its greatness, its first ever student ended up becoming president and having an awesome tower named after him. Read on.
Around 15000 of the least pretentious people you will ever meet populate the Stanford campus. The undergraduate school is top notch. For all of you Harvard lovers out there, let me first extend a hearty fuck you, and second rub in your face how shitty your education is since you receive hardly any teaching from professors themselves and instead get taught by TAs and grads. If I wanted to be taught by a kid fresh out of college I would have gone to an inner-city public school system. Oh, and Harvard, your sciences BLOW. Stanford engineering is top notch, second only to MIT and only barely, if even. A Harvard engineering degree may just be good enough to land you a job at your local fast food retailer. They may even let you fix the sink. Also, Yale blows. And Princeton, what the fuck is a breakfast club? Do you guys get into social groups that revolve around occasional breakfasts? Well, I suppose that's not weird at all. Back to academics though. Stanford is awesome. On a sunny day, you may spot a half-asian freshman frolicking around Old Union in a Speedo. He only responds to the name Don Giovanni, and likes to be hand-fed dry-roasted peanuts.
Significance of March 15th
Some 19 years ago, a baby boy was born under a waning crescent moon, thus fulfilling a prophecy made three months before his birth. To protect the identities of the innocent, we cannot use his given name, so he shall hereby be referred to as "JC" (a wink and a nod to all you lit majors, and those of you who dropped acid before reading A Tale of Two Cities Sophomore year of high school and actually believed that book had any symbolic significance whatsoever).
The Prophecy: One cold day in January, JC's then mother-to-be was walking down Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk in the warm California sun, when she spotted a sign: for the very affordable price of $5.99, she could have her palm read by a real psychic. Knowing a good deal when she saw one, she entered the fortune tellers tent and sat down. To make the long short, the bespectacled prophecy peddler informed her that her child would someday attend Stanford University and protect its students from red-headed individuals and "bad vibes". Also, he would be a mean Mac & Cheese chef.
So from the start, young JC was destined for greatness, though for much of his life he believed he was no different from you or I. His mother had chosen to keep the prophecy a secret until she believed he was old enough to appreciate its implications, for as we all know from watching Hulu during morning lecture for Truth and Morality IHum, "with great power comes great responsibility".
One fateful day when JC was a mere 17 years old, he received a letter by owl post (a little pretentious, Stanford, but anything to upstage the University of Vermont and their congratulatory jugs of maple syrup) accepting him to the most prestigious institution of learning this side of the Mason-Dixon. Now you can see where I'm going with this, and you can only imagine the adventures our young hero found himself on, between fighting gratuitously sexy dominatrixes at the Demon Gates (commonly referred to as the street-side entrance to Chi Theta Chi) and dominating at Smash Bros.
And the journey has just begun. Stay tuned for the next installment.
Stanford shares a great superiority (Pwnage) over Yale University in that it has an inanimate object as a mascot, rather than an ugly bulldog. Like students at Berkeley, Stanford students worship their tree, their religion. They are widely recognized as the greatest athletics school in the country, with their dominance (Pwnage) extending from mainstream sports such as football to the less commonly recognized aspects of their farm work. Yet again, this supports the theory of oppositeness with Princeton, which is a school so abysmal at athletics that their teams have never scored a point in any sport (the exception being golf, in which players routinely exceed 140), let alone emerged from any bout victorious. This is so well known a fact at Stanford that Human Biology majors developed a mnemonic device to remember the phases of cell division: PMAT (Princeton Made a Touchdown!). The thought is so absurd that students are bound to remember it come midterms week.
To anyone who believe Berkeley to be better than Stanford, in any way, do us all a favor and drink some cyanide laced kool-aid. Really, everyone will appreciate it. So the football teams have a rivalry. Here's some news: football sucks. If Stanford wanted to have a top notch football team, they would drop their academic requirements for admission, declare themselves a state school, and move to Texas. But seeing that they are perfectly happy dominating in every other sport and putting forward only a mediocre team in the world's most useless sport, I doubt this is going to happen. Berkeley, a state school of 25,000 undergrads with much more lax standards of admission for its athletes cannot even manage to put forward a team that can consistently beat Stanford. I smell a pussy. The people at Stanford don't give two shits about the football team. Those people at the stadium are there to watch the band (especially the alto saxophone section), not the game. Berkeley, whose website is actually a redirect of www.stanfordrejects.com, I know you need this rivalry to feel worthwhile, so alright, I'll let it continue. We don't need 25,000 sobbing pussies to complicate things, we've already got Bill O'Reilly to deal with.
The Game is a Stanford tradition which involves brilliant Stanford students driving around for an entire night. Although many brave young souls have lost their lives to the hobos of San Francisco, those that manage to return are forever strengthened by the ordeal. The best part of the game is that there is always a promise of a prize, yet no one ever gets one. Many people believe it is entry to Medical School, or in fact even an actual date at Stanford. However, there are no confirmed reports of either of these ever occuring. Yet there may or may not be something waiting for you in front of memchu, where you should now go (Well, maybe).
Two alumni, lovingly referred to as "Packard and the tall one" on the Farm, began a business making calculators out of car parts in the 1930s and went on to create the Monterey Bay Aquarium to hold their collection of electric eels and sardines.
For several years in the 1990s no students graduated from Stanford because they all dropped out early to join an Internet startup. Suckers? No, today they are all richer than you. If Stanford were a country, its GDP would be bigger than the United States and Liechtenstein combined, and it would have more Olympic gold medals than Andorra and Vanuatu combined.
Jen-Hsun "Jenny" Huang recently secured his posterity's Stanford admission with a $30 million donation. The ensuing Jen-Hsun Huang Engineering Center opened to the public in 2010. Jenny takes pride in having designed it using his own advanced PhysX modeling and stereoscopic ray tracing technologies. A survey conducted by Forbes found that many other Silicon Valley CEOs NV his swirly-logo tattoo, which he proudly displays at conferences and trade shows.
Herbert Hoover is the only president to have graduated from Stanford. In gratitude for Hoover getting the United States into the Great Depression (which showed the labor unions what poverty really looks like, the ingrates) and out of World War II, a group of Hoover's friends and associates built Hoover Tower, a 285-foot monument to his manhood, on campus. Like the original, the tip of Hoover Tower includes a Belgian carillon.
Tiger Woods is another alumnus of this university.