The Euler Monopoly: When One Mathematician Names Everything

This tier list is peak mathematical trolling! The numbers -2, -3, and -5 get S-tier because they're negative versions of actual primes, so they look prime but are actually divisible by -1. Zero slides into A-tier because it's divisible by literally everything except itself (identity crisis much?). Meanwhile, 1 gets relegated to F-tier—the mathematical equivalent of "you had one job" since it's the multiplicative identity that fails the prime test by definition. The empty B-C-D-E tiers are just mathematical shade at this point. Numbers that aren't prime but desperately want to join the cool kids club.

Poor girl just solved the integral ∫2e x dx = e 2 + C and got totally ghosted! She's texting her crush about her math breakthrough at night (because THAT'S what you do when you crack a differential equation at 2AM), but he responds with the emotional depth of a calculator. An hour of silence later, she's left wondering if his lack of calculus enthusiasm means he plays for the other team. Honey, it's not you—some people just don't get excited about exponential functions! His loss for missing out on dating someone whose idea of pillow talk includes integration by parts! 🧮✨

The innocent request for "math help" is actually the Hawking radiation formula. That's like asking your friend to help you change a light bulb and then showing them the blueprints for a nuclear reactor. Physics grad students still wake up in cold sweats thinking about this equation describing how black holes slowly evaporate through quantum effects. Next time just ask for calculus help like a normal person.

Physics textbooks exist in their own special dimension where penguins are perfect cylinders and cows are spherical. Nobody asked for these simplifications, yet there they are, teaching generations of students that air resistance is negligible and pulleys are frictionless. Next time your experiment fails, remember it's not you—it's just that reality refuses to be a well-behaved mathematical model. Those of us who've spent years in the lab know the truth: the universe is held together by duct tape and statistical error bars.

The eternal mathematical truth bomb! Four degrees is barely a fever, but four radians? That's a mind-bending 229.18 degrees that would make your protractor have an existential crisis. Every math student knows that gut-wrenching moment when units change everything. It's like ordering "just a couple" cookies and specifying whether you meant Imperial or Metric couples. The mathematician's version of "Is water wet?" - the answer always requires three more follow-up questions and possibly a dissertation.

Behold, the sacred display of π = 3, the mathematical heresy that would make Archimedes roll in his ancient grave. Nothing says "close enough for government work" like rounding one of the most famous irrational numbers to a single digit. Who needs those pesky infinite decimals anyway? Just imagine all the bridges and rockets we could build if we embraced this level of approximation! Next up: e = 2 and the square root of 2 = 1.5. Engineering students everywhere just felt a disturbance in the force.