Cursed Golden Ratio

The classic engineering bait-and-switch! High school: "I'm pretty good at math and science, engineering seems logical!" First semester of university: *drowning in differential equations while surviving on ramen and caffeine* That moment when you realize your high school physics teacher conveniently forgot to mention that "solving for x" would become "solving for your will to live." The clown makeup isn't applied—it's earned through sleepless nights of wondering why you didn't just major in business like your parents suggested.

Initial joy: "Only one question on the exam!" Final horror: It's an integral of √(tan x) dx. That's the mathematical equivalent of being told you only need to climb one mountain, then discovering it's Everest. Even calculators need therapy after attempting this one. The cross is a nice touch—perfect for the funeral of your GPA.

Ever been walking down the street, minding your own business, thinking about black holes and dinosaurs when suddenly MATH appears and grabs you by the collar? "Not so fast, buddy!" Math is that friend who reminds you that behind every cool scientific concept lurks a differential equation waiting to crush your dreams. The relationship between science enthusiasts and mathematics is like peanut butter and sardines - theoretically possible but emotionally complicated. You can run from the calculus, but you can't hide!

The mathematical journey from elementary school to PhD is basically intellectual hazing. Fifth graders confidently multiply six-digit numbers while doctoral students stare blankly at basic addition. After years of abstract algebra and non-Euclidean geometry, your brain becomes so specialized in theoretical mathematics that it forgets how to perform simple calculations. The propeller hat is just chef's kiss—nothing says "I've reached the pinnacle of mathematical education" like needing a calculator to split the dinner bill.

The number 111,111,111,111,111 is indeed prime, and mathematicians find this oddly seductive. Just like Skeletor here, math enthusiasts get unreasonably excited about these numerical unicorns that can't be divided by anything except themselves and 1. The dramatic "until we meet again" exit perfectly captures the fleeting joy of discovering a massive prime—you solve it once, then spend years hunting for the next one. Mathematicians' version of a one-night stand.

Behold! The most mathematically accurate costume ever created! The "costume left as an exercise for the viewer" is pure genius—it's the Halloween equivalent of those textbook problems where professors suddenly decide your education is better served by you figuring it out yourself. Just imagine showing up to a party in an empty package and telling everyone you're dressed as "the solution to a complex equation." The blank space perfectly represents the existential void mathematicians stare into daily! Even better—it comes in "one size fits most" because, like mathematical proofs, some people will never get it!