# My Writing Truly Comes Alive At All The Wrong Moments

I take online school, and every now and then they have these “discussions” where they give you a subject and ask you to write about it a certain way. I always tend to have way too much fun with these. Here’s my latest one, and I honestly think it’s the most absurd one yet.

This was the assignment:
“Research building codes for ramps such as wheelchair ramps, boat ramps, or loading docks. Choose a building code for a ramp and describe the relationship between the lengths involved using geometry vocabulary such as hypotenuse, adjacent side, and opposite side. Use right triangle concepts from this Unit to find any unknown lengths and angle measures of the ramp. Be sure to identify the type of ramp. Explain if the building code of your ramp makes sense and do the same for the other building codes posted for the discussion. Discuss why there are building codes for ramps and how you think they are determined.”

With all that in mind, this is what I wrote:

Ramps for Gramps: A Mediocre Look Into What Any Of This Means

It goes without saying that I know absolutely nothing about this subject, but ignorance has never stopped me from opening my mouth, now has it. So, I’ll retire to what good ol’ Google has to say. I went ahead and interviewed him. Saint Google scratched his head at my inquiry, but he went ahead and told me what he knew; he is all-knowing, after all.

“The maximum slope of a ramp is 1:12” he sang as a choir of sassy black angels kicked into full gear. “The maximum rise for any ramp shall be 30 inches.” he belted in silky smooth falsetto, as the angelic black choir broke off into brain-melting harmonies. “The minimum clear width of a ramp shall be 36 inches” he continued as I tried to not die from this excessive amount of knowledge that was being loaded onto me via toe-tapping inducing R&B. “Also, don’t forget handrails.” he barked, and my mind imploded.

I had to be hospitalized. I received a bouquet of flowers and an apology letter from Saint G. confessing that he might’ve gotten carried away. I thought to myself as the doctors pushed me down the halls in a wheel chair; I thought about how much I still don’t know about those ever-so-elusive ramps.

(Feel free to condescend in the comments below)

I can assure you that when I write another one of these, whenever that may be, I will gladly share them with you.

# My Thoughts and Opinions on Math

I am a high school student, and for the most part, I don’t have too much trouble with my classes. However, there is one class that just about ruins my whole image of school. Math. I’d like to proclaim this subject as the bane of my existence. Yeah, I really don’t like it. “But why?” you might ask. Well, why don’t we discuss this like gentlemen.

Now, I don’t want to go on sounding like some arrogant, snot-nosed teen, so I’ll try to be as reasonable as I can.

Math is just one of those things that some people are naturally gifted at, or just flat out god awful at. As you can probably tell, I land in the lesser of the two. But here’s the thing; I don’t hate math just because I’m not good at it. The way I see it, the math you learn in grade school is really the only math you’ll ever need to use in your life. Now, obviously scientists and architects are going to need to know more advanced forms of math, but here’s the thing, most of us don’t go on to become scientists and architects. Why force every kid in America to master all these formulas when, most likely, we’ll never need to use them in our lives? I’ve mentioned this to some of my previous teachers before, and they would say