Someone is evil. I got the following math problem in my inbox this morning. It is doing nothing but make my brain hurt...
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Neston Wentworth was not your average honors high school math student. He was also a motorcycle degenerate of the most notorious description, being the proud owner of no fewer than twenty seven motorcycles, his favorite being the Tyranosaurus Mark XII, which was powered by no fewer than four Chevy 425's, each with its own eight-barreled carburator.
One fine afternoon Neston left home at four o'clock on his Mark XII, musing on some lofty mathematical abstraction, and nine minutes later was approaching a significant proportion of one percent of the speed of light when a chipmunk darted into his path. The chipmunk was reduced to a greasy smudge on the macadam and Neston was tossed five miles.
"Golly", said Neston, extracating himself from the hole dug by his body, "I darn near forgot. Today is Mom's birthday." Rummaging around in his pocket, Neston produced a pocketful of change. "It is a curious fact", he exclaimed, that in three years, Mom's age will be exactly one-sixth of the value of all these coins, measured in pennies. Also, I have twice as many nickels as quarters, and there are seven times as many dimes as there are pennies, and five times the number of quarters as there are pennies.
"And I suppose it is worth mentioning", tears welling in his eyes, (such is the beauty of mathematics) "that even though the accident occured one minute ago, the number of degrees that now seperate the hands on my watch is exactly equal to thrice the number of coins I have, minus one less than the number of quarters." And he pulled out a protractor from his pocket to verify this fact.
His musings concluded, Neston trudged off to buy his mother a birthday present.
How old was she? |
