2-24, all even. I thought slave labor ended years ago. This is unbefreckinglievable. I hope my math teacher gets his hand stuck in his new fandangled protractor or something because this is pure torture.
This is almost as ridiculous as assigning an individual take home test and expecting kids not to work on it together. I haven’t been this mad since Dave Chapelle disappeared from the face of this Earth. Or my sister deleted Planet Earth to make room for Gossip Girl. You want to hear some gossip: my math teacher eats baby children. In one bite.
Thank goodness the first ten questions were matching. Still, it took me an hour because I am simultaneously watching TV, eating ice cream, and texting. I already have three things to do; I don’t know why the teacher gave me a fourth. It’s like he thinks the whole world revolves, like, around him or something.
I have some surprise news for you: the Japanese just bombed Pearl Harbor and problem 20 has parts A-G. I honestly don’t know which is worse.
I am finally on problem 24, though I doubt Jack Bauer has the patience to complete this assignment. Even with Chloe’s help, and Bauer’s ability to never eat, drink, go to the bathroom, or sleep, I can’t imagine him battling through this blatant act of terrorism. I heard Pythagoras’s followers committed suicide when they discovered root two existed. That’s irrational… especially because they never had to deal with this incomprehensible math. I’m as lost as a freshman trying to figure out what the hell that Stagewrite poem is about. Hint: the poem probs contains strangely sexual overtones coming from a kid who has never touched another human being in her entire poetic life.
My math teacher is so elitist. He’ll trade you some of his arugula for your calculator, because for some reason those magical devices aren’t allowed on this g-d forsaken assignment. This assignment is about as ugly as Kyle Orton.
Oh well. I’ll just have to go to the math lab and copy all the answers, like I always do.