seen on the Calculus BC Message Board. . .

Rocker: If anyone does anything inappropriate then they can expect a visit from THE ROCKER. So just keep it clean and I am sure that none of you will have to spend time in the penalty box.
Sick Like L'Hospital: Oooooh! The penalty box, bring it Rocker. Bet you can't integrate this *@#$ you!
Rocker: After i get through with you, You'll be sick alright. If you mess with THE ROCKER he will end you. So on more outburst like that and you will spend some time in the PENALTY BOX
Sick Like L'Hospital: I think you should change your name to THE TALKER or THE I'M-ALL-TALK-ABOUT-THE-PENTALTY-BOX-ER. Give me what you got KOCKER!
No Limit Soldier: You need to clean up your act "L'Hospital". Watch out for the "No Limit Soldiers" of 2nd period. This message board is our turf now. F(u).
Sick Like L'Hospital: Watch out for who? The "Can't find the limit sissies" of 2nd period can't get sick like "L'Hospital." The only "turf" that's yours is that brown stuff on the bottom of your shoes.
Reimann's Son: What was the extra-credit problem the teacher said he'd post?
No Limit Soldier: L'hospital needs to watch himself now that I've got the Natural Lager on my side. L'Hospital is gonna need to check himself into the emergency room when the 2nd period no limit soldiers are through with him.
Sick Like L'Hospital: Natural Lager??? Hey ROCKER can you run that name through the appropriate meter. I think it may refer to my tasty high school malt beverage of choice, and if that's the case I don't think there is room for that sort of talk in the Calculus BC message board. And as for you Mr. Weeks I see you didn't take my challenge to bridge our differences through philosophy, so taking it to the streets it is. Just beware...I play hardball.
Natural Lager: Watch out there L'Hospital, Natural Lager is coming at you with some full bodied flavor that might be too heavy for your phd
No Limit Soldier: Riemann's son, you're gonna have a tough time filling your father's shoes. We're in the midst of a little turf war on the BC message board and you're still unaffiliated. Now's the time to pledge your allegiance to the no limit soldier or to l'hospital. So what's it gonna be? Are you with the soldier or the surgeon?
Reimann's Son: Don't try to bully me Soldier. I'll find the equation for your face in terms of my fist any day.
No Limit Soldier: Riemann's Son, after I get my hands on you you'll think the "Mean" Value Theorem is nice. Believe me, you'll be in an indeterminate form in no time.


Calculus BC with Mr. Sheppie: You can't have more fun in a math class without actually learning stuff.

The Decathlon is tomorrow. . .

That's the Academic Decathlon. After all these months of preparation, of planning, recruiting, and studying. . .
To be perfectly honest, I'm lying through my teeth (now there's a paradox). This year has been so ridiculously unorganized, that to pretend otherwise ranks right up there with heresy. Last night, we were supposed to have a study session. We were going to review statistics. Had we taken minutes, they would have looked something like:

7:00-7:15 - people arrive. General chit-chat.
7:15-7:30 - Simon semi-tries to get us to go over the Math test. Nora semi-encourages us, too.
7:30-7:45 - We play Extreme Bop-It. At one point, Nora, Mike, and I team up to play co-op Bop-It. We get a high score of 73, with each of us being responsible for one action. This success is followed by several minutes of celebration and hand-slapping. Only a couple of the attempted high-fives are total whiffs.
7:45-8:00 - I discover Nora's guitar and begin playing "Closer to Fine." Nobody can hear me, however, as Nora and Simon are playing a command performance of "Rockin Robin" on the piano.
8:00-8:30 - Samee insists that [some weird name] is a country in Africa. I insist that it isn't. We troop into Nora's den, where one entire wall is covered with a gigantic world map. The issue of the not-an-actual-African-country is quickly resolved, and we progress into finding more weird place names. The winner is the "Kermit Roosevelt Seamount," an underwater mountain range several hundred miles west of Mendocino. I quickly name this my Phrase of the Millenium.
8:30-9:00 - Back in the living room, we tell science and math jokes, and Nora teaches us this cool rhythm you can beat out with cups and a table.

Yeah. So, our slogan for AcaDeca this year is "We Like Shiny Things." This is written on our T-shirts. On the back of our shirts, we each have a nickname, like "Ralph" or "Not Steve" or "Steve, by process of elimination". I named myself "Marvin," after the superintelligent, terminally-depressed robot from HG2G. So, when we wore our shirts today, what comment did I hear most often?
"Oh, are you, like, Marvin the Martian?"
Grrr.
I should probably be studying right now, but it's so much more fun to update my journal. Ah, well. Better wrap this up.
Wish me luck tomorrow.