its a fairly subtle characteristic of our apartment. id even wager that a good number of people who have been here havent noticed. regardless, if there wasnt a second door in hamels room leading to the basement we would all be trapped INSIDE our apartment. the situation is this: last night while consuming a few beers, we locked the dead bolt on our door. to our surprise the dead bolt broke and now cannot be unlocked. the key just turns the lock round and round without permitting sweet freedom. so, if the normal unused door had not been in hamels room to grant us atleast some kind of exit we would be forced to use the windows as exits. if this had happened to anyone else i would have trouble believing it. but sure enough, im locked inside of my apartment.

you know those hover-boat things that zip around louisianna marshes in movies? with the huge fan on the back. it was a fan of this magnitude (approximately 2 meter diameter) that confronted me while trying to enter my building via the secret alley entrance. i was originally denied at the front door by intimidating signs and air tight plastic sealed over the door garrisoned and barricaded like a medieval castle. evidently it is painting season at forest properties. they decided it wouldnt be necessary to mention anything of this to we 3 residents. the floor is going to be red. and an ugly red. but our door is bright white now. thats kinda good. but basically there is a horrible smell (not so bad that you get high, just the headache), hoardes of peasant class hispanics smoking cigarettes 2 feet from our door, and when we leave we have to walk down a.) a secret ninja path by the torture chamber, or b.) down the length of the alley adding 10 minutes of annoying walking to any journey. what the fuck. there are no good things i can say about forest properties ... except that every single person working in there office is a beautiful baby. that is always nice to have in a landlord.

my professor for, get this, "Transport Processes and Separation Process Principles", has a very disconcerting habit. very often he pauses in his lecture and shakes the piece of chalk that is in his hand, you can more easily imagine it as being dice and he is preparing to make a killer yahtzee roll. anyway, this "shaking" motion looks suspiciously like the motion commonly attributed to masturbation. you know the one i mean, the "air jerk off" as it were. anyway, Professor Bac (read: Botch), will finish speaking about a topic that is fairly important then do the move. for example:
"That is why the viscosity of Ethanol is much greater than that of Methanol and this relationship can be easily discerned by analyzing their Reynolds numbers and Antoines constants" then, the air jerk off. how can i be expected to take any information seriously if it is always followed by a gesture ive always attributed to apathy and worthlessness. i cant. thats for damn sure. im probably the only cool kid who noticed that he does it too. unobservant bastards.

Horse Shit (hôrs shit) n. :
1. Northeastern University's financial aid policies
2. Excrement of such large proportions that it obviously came from a horse
3. The excuses given to me by my financial aid advisor about why im getting $1300 less then i applied for even though i am required to pay interest on that same $1300 starting today
4. The excuses given to me by my financial aid advisor regarding the 2 week late arrival of my $5500 $4200 check

i have once again managed to top 400 dollars this quarter on book purchases. mother fucker.

every so often, there is a person that despite every effort, is not allowed to succeed. Stephen Dushko, this is your story. stevio, as we called him, was a brilliant young mind. here are a few majors that he tried out his freshman year: Performing Arts, Biology, Psychology, English, Journalism, Writing, and Scuba Diving. yes, thats correct, for a short time stevio attempted to become a scuba diving major. this is where our story takes a scary turn ... a deadly combination of both the northeastern administration and his parents teamed up to ruin poor stevios college career. despite stevios regular pleas, the numeric representation of apparent effort (GPA), was too great a hurdle for young stevio. if only mr dushko knew how many sleepless nights stevio spent under his bed simultaneously playing Tetris and masturbating, or dominating such video games as Half Life, and Mario Brothers. several nights stephen was so exhausted from staying up playing video games he couldnt even wake up to go to class. it was oh so tragic when i received the horrible news that stevio would not be returning to make a second go of it. all who met you, and/or had you threaten to kill them, will remember you for a relatively long time.

todays best away message comes from a fellow chemical engineer by the name of john belcher:

Belch Dog: Professor Zimmerman chuckled as she suddenly realized her mistake. "Oops! I forgot to draw this process output out of the system!" she said chuckling. We saw the mistake too and all laughed. It was funny because she was right. That ethanol and water mixture was drawn so that it wasn't leaving the system! You can't solve the system if your outputs never leave! So we all laughed at the mistake because it was very funny.

About the time I finished laughing, I realized that perhaps I needed to switch major, find a woman, and move to a small third world country where there is no math.

believe it or not, this would actually crack our whole class up for several minutes. we are super nerds where all of the jokes are stupid and about chemicals and math. but we are so so cool.