i watched the “2 Fast 2 Furious” trailer and, as far as i know, this movie can be summed up by these statements:

- Paul Walker is back and worse than ever
- a mustang gets crushed while attempting to go underneath a truck. (hopefully with Paul Walker behind the wheel

the Wendy’s employees at The University are incompetent. i go up there and order medium fries, nuggets, caesar salad and a lemonade with no ice. so she punches it all in and swipes my ID card. she gives me my lemonade and a minute later, begins waving a bag in my face. confused because i didn’t hear my order called out, i glanced inside and saw only fries and nuggets. i told her i was missing a caesar side salad. she groans and goes back and gets it, then realized that she never rang it up on the cash register to begin with. so she swipes my i-card again, and i get my salad in a matter of minutes. by the time i sat down, i realized that my cup of “lemonade, no ice” is filled halfway with…guess what?…ice! bah.

if there’s one thing i hate about winter, it’s walking through slush. oh wait. no, it’s the bitter cold. okay, if there are TWO things i hate about winter, it’s the bitter cold and walking through slush. anyways, bottom line, i hate walking through slush. you just kinda pull your pant legs up a bit and slosh your way to class. ugh. nothing beats hearing the sound of slush. except for maybe nails on the chalkboard or rubbing styrofoam. now those are some classic sounds.

ghetto. so i go to the The University convenience store on east side today in hopes of purchasing some cough drops. bag in hand, i make way to the counter with my trusty ID card (which is a widely accepted form of payment all over campus). the lady scans in the cough drops and tells me that they don’t accept ID cards for medicine and that i have to pay cash. i have no cash. dorks.

hacking cough + splitting headache + sore throat + no medicine = dying.

went to the Art Institute this morning with a few AAIV people. it was pretty neat, the Medici/Michelangelo exhibit was still there so we caught a gander at that. while we were there, i encountered some of our society’s upper echelon. with eyes squinted, arms folded and fingers tapping inquisitively at their chins, the cultured elite gazed on in an attempt to extract some sort of deep, emotional essence from each piece.

“hmm…yes. this piece is just flowing off the canvas and into my heart.”

what in the world does that mean? is it some sort of shaqtarded derivative of the language commonly known as english? because i speak it, and i don’t know what the heck you’re talking about. are there underlying messages, themes, stories, etc… hidden beneath the frail surface of art? sure…i bet there is. but can they talk about it like a NORMAL PERSON? apparently not.

i hate it when i wake up and i find messages like these on AIM.

somebody: hey ivan! can you do me a favor and bring your digital camera, some doritos and a tennis racket while you’re in the area? thanks! you rock!

okay, so now what am i supposed to do? this person took full advantage of the fact that i was asleep when he IMed me and threw a shaqtarded request my way. the way i see it, you have a number of choices when faced with this and similar scenarios.

1. do it. go out of your way bring him the camera, doritos, a tennis racket and a complimentary kick to the stomach for being a nerd.
2. don’t do it. show up bearing no gifts and tell him off for asking for such a ludicrous combination of objects.
3. ignore and avoid him for the rest of the week and hope he doesn’t remember. if he catches you, tell him your computer crashed that night and you lost all messages before you could read them.

i think i’m going to start logging off when i sleep.

can handicapped people become police officers? the police are supposed to be an “equal opportunity employer” are they not? can they take a bright young fellow with a physical disability and a heart for fighting crime and turn him down coldly? i mean…yeah, i guess they wouldn’t make the BEST cops…but it’s not like the current police force is the BEST either. let’s run a few scenarios shall we?

criminal: with an officer in sight, takes the purse of an innocent bystander and runs.

ideal cop: “HALT, felon!” proceeds to run down and handcuff the suspect…returns the purse to the old lady with a smile
realistic cop: *BUUUURP* “wooo! that was a good one!” rubs belly and grins to himself
blind cop: “i heard that.” rotates to the direction from whence the sound came…walks into streetlamp.
deaf cop: scans the ground for shiny objects and loose change.
wheelchair cop: “HEY YOU! STOP!” wheels full speed towards the offender, who stops suddenly. cop rolls uncontrollably into busy intersection.
obese cop: *BUUUURP* “wooo! that was a good one!” rubs belly and grins to himself
armless cop: “HEY YOU! STOP!” runs down the thief and headbutts him in the back, knocks him down and kicks him repeatedly in the stomach.

thanks goodness for standards and restrictions.

shaq is a racist fruitcake.