The Test Ended . . .

. . . it was a bullshit exam. Of the ten questions, the final problem was worth just as much as the preceding nine questions. I thought to the opening salvo in Color of Money, "The player can shoot eight trick shots in a row, blow the nine, and lose."

As I waited for the elevator, my classmates were conferring in the lobby. "For that last one, did you get prime of F as L-N of x, against A, over cubed square root of n?"

Fuck. I got -3.5.


(Yes, Lanny. It's a bullshit, made-up answer. No need to point it out.)