She called to me from a sand pail, fingers twinkling, tinikling an ultimatum I won’t soon forget.
Drop and give me 20 or by Jove I will break your asymptote in two.
So what if my parabola is bigger than yours. Never mind that my factor tree runs deeper than any algorithm she can conceive. True, her radians are radiant. Yes, she makes a cube root like no other. Still, my variance outshines the brightest of her inverse reciprocals.
Get your lowest common denominator away from the door.
She’s just a standard deviation after all, it’s not my fault. I can barely read the XY-intercept stuck in the middle of her f(x) mess. I’ll 1/2 base times my height pi R squared if she would get off her high hypotenuse move her N factorial out of my way. Her parallel lines cut by transversal are making my congruent angles stink. Nobody should have to foil himself just to know someone will please excuse my dear Aunt Sally for parallelograms unknown.
Shut your rhombus; I can smell your complementary angles from here.
No, I won’t accept her covalent operations or demands to sit in an isosceles triangle to think about what I’ve done. I’ve done nothing . I’m not falling for her quadratic equation.