Light and hearty observations from a fat and ugly guy. Home of hackneyed drivel and ersatz-existentialist effluence. Choleric biliousness a specialty, since 1958.

Math. The horror, the horror.

I'd put a bunch of stuff under padlock in the attic years ago--you can't trust anyone, you know, especially family--and the other day I was going through it and found an old Nigel math test from 4th grade. See the excerpt at left; this was a pretty typical result for me.

Why? I have the math aptitude of a soapdish.

I never got it, never, never; that part of my brain just doesn't work. I cannot and never have balanced a checkbook. I cannot and never have figured out basic geometry or algebra or any of that. And this part of my damaged cortex is one of the contributing factors in my inability to perform even the most mundane mechanical or maintenance tasks, like fixing a broken appliance. Bugger that. Clearing out a clogged drain. Screw it. Installing...anything. Fugeddaboutit. Helpful handy goddam instructions don't help, either: I cannot picture 3-D items on a 2-D rendering, so they are completely and totally useless.

Here's something, though: while I hate math, I do like numbers. I even have favorites. Yes--my favorite numbers are: 36-24-32, in that order. And you can buff my scrotum if you can't figure out what I mean by that.

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 8:06 AM