Walton Goggins standing over me with his boot firmly planted on my neck, slicing an apple with a switchblade. "Now it seems to me... someone needs to learn their times tables." Neither one of us has any idea what he means in this scenario.
If I remember my One Potato Two Potato workbook, there was a long period where it went to ten. Twelve makes sense when you consider how many things come in dozens. Surprised that these days it's not powers of 2 ending in 16 or 32 since that vaguely seems useful because computers
I remember in the 80s it was my mum made me memorize up to 12 (no offense intended public school system)
I don't know if it was related to "dozens", or because of the Sesame Street pinball counting song...
We were forbidden from Sesame Street because it made us "too rowdy," so my first real encounter with numbers as math was at school. If my mom had taken a hand, I suspect I could've made change and calculated the cost w/tax of a pack of Marlboros by kindergarten
thank you sir, for also now posting your good content over in this place where the weird imp doesn't reply "Exactly" to every post about fun it is to beat up minorities
I loved Boyd Crowther so much that
- I began to think I needed to reconsider... things
- I began to think about dressing like that character, sorta miner chic (careful, don't fall into hipster)
“This blasted post-nuclear hellscape is awful.”
“Yes - and look over there! A terrifying mutant ghoul with no nose!”
“No nose? How does he smell?”
“Terrible!”
