If there is one thing that has nagged me for my entire life — not counting intense self-hatred and a near entire lack of self-esteem — it's math. Back in high school, two days before graduation, my math teacher came up to me ahead of the big end-of-year slide show and asked, "Do you know how close you were to not graduating?" "Uh... no," I replied as visions of palm trees and girls playing beach volleyball outside my dorm window dance through my head, seeing as I had already punched my ticket to attend college at the hallowed hall of academia that is the University of Central Florida. "One point," said the public educator with one hell of a Napoleon complex. Even then I thought it was funny that math was trying to bring me down. I was rocking a report card of all aces, aside from calculus. If a calculus blemish kept me from graduating then the public school system is in worse shape than I thought it was.  Calculus had realized it was math's final h...

There's only one type of room that one encounters regularly that serves a clear and singular purpose. It goes by many names: bathroom, restroom, lavatory, or, shitter. Ever since Thomas J. Crapper realized there was a better way to do things than hucking buckets of our own excrement into the street like slightly-civilized apes, the bathroom has been a near-constant in all of our lives.  The bathroom isn't here to wow audiences. It's here to do its business, which involves your business, but lately, I've been getting irritated by some bathroom showboating that I've seen as of late. There's always an argument to be made about the level of importance that should be placed on the idea of "form over function." Some people like things simple and easy to use, while others will take a little inconvenience if it means upping the pizzaz a few notches. I'm somewhere in between. To me, it's a situational thing, but I know where I stand when it comes to bat...