Re: A Problem To Solve :-)

On 3/10/2024 4:11 PM, Physfitfreak wrote:

  Farley went back to his table, sat down and took in a deep breath of relief. This crap was at last over.
 Physfit clicked the Thunderbird closed again.
    

Now it was really late. Routine sleep-wake pattern meant a lot when he lived pretty much a pre-agriculture man's life. The bed was still for no reason in the living room. No idea how it got there. It is a very light bed by choice. Physfit hated large, heavy beds. He believed such beds were only in cro-magnons' minds something desirable. A lingering sensation from eons of sleeping inside tight holes in the ice in north Europe as neanderthals, and only relatively recently having been fucked into cro-magnons by the Iranian explorer men, after stumbling upon such ground-meat like huge asses, and out of absolute lack of anything else within thousands of miles to fuck.
He took his shoes and clothes off down to only a loose short; quickly brushed his teeth with a bit of table salt "toothpaste" and gargled the mouth pristine clean. This toothpaste thingy was also another mark of cro-magnons. The fucking species itself was for some unknown reason, goo-lover. They put goo into their soaps, they rubbed goo over their entire bodies, they sold pure goo to rub their hands with; goo in their shampoos, goo in their antibiotics, goo before fucking each other's homo asses, and goo as the material to wash their teeth with. Nothing simpler and better and cleaner and healthier and more natural than a few milligrams of salt to use, to wash teeth, and that species _never_ found that out. _Will_ never find it out.
He then took the little flashlight with him and went around turning off all the lights in the house except the two outside ones for cameras to see better, then opened the blinds on the windows so he'd wake up in the morning basked in intense sunlight inside the living room. Got to bed, touched to check for the mighty 9 mm to see if it was there where it was supposed to be, then subtracted the number of curses of the day from 200, and mentally noted how many curses he was allowed the day after. Then, within just a few seconds, he was asleep.
Woke up after intense dreams of eating Long John Silvers fish fillets and coleslaw before, while, and after anything he did in that dream, and sure enough found the whole living room was filled with sunlight. Cats on seeing him awake began moving around saying hi and get vocal and active with each other, ready for their food.
As hungry as he felt, if it was the day after yesterday for sure, it wouldn't be an eating day for Physfit, so coffee was the maximum he could indulge in. Prepared that cheapest fucking coffee he could put his hands on in Dallas from Aldi's, "Beaumont Coffee, Classic Roast", which had a map of Texas on its lid, and said right there, "Go Texan", underneath, which still was potent enough to place the very essence of life and the zest for it back in him a 100%. He'd pay for "best" coffee in the world, so don't get him wrong, but out of grudge for those crooks who quadrupled their prices just to claim theirs were better, he kind of proved to himself and them both, that they were mere crooks, by showing that the cheapest coffee in the entire world still did exactly what it was supposed to do.
Physfit sat down with the cats and began enjoying his cup of coffee. Each time he sipped it, it was one seep of coffee he had not bought from those motherfuckers, adding to the pleasure in this morning habit of his. Two of the cats always competed to be on his lap. It was the turn for the white and green tabby one. The one who always looked at him with wet eyes and pink eyelids, assertively, as well as interrogatively, knowing that she owned him, and letting him know she was happy to be with him, but whether it was so for him as well. It sure was, and he wouldn't know how to tell her that. He lacked such mastery in expressing without words. So she kept asking the same question every time she looked at him straight in the eyes. She was allergic to something there in the house.
Then on a hunch, Physfit went to the window to check the magic mountain. It was there. So everything again became affected by some degree of uncertainty. Especially the time. He was so unusually hungry. Was it really the day after the night of enjoying that zesty Long John Silver's fillets and coleslaw? Could it be a totally different day? Bed was still in the living room, so not too much could've passed since.
He began the routine of feeding the cats. That routine was long and involved enough to make him tired. Usually needing a 15 or 20-minute visit to physics and COLA forums to rest and catch his energy again as he let his dick do whatever it wanted there. There was a time that he'd get physically active in the house for 4 hours, on weekends, before needing any rest, but now at that age, the period had shortened to about an hour and a half. This made him visit forums a few times too often per day than he _and_ his dick liked.
So he did visit usenet and took a look inside physics, and then COLA forums. Same crap going on in both. In physics forum a couple of loonies were trying to imitate a human that's actually alive, and in COLA, groupies were following Farley this way and that way like little kids, struggling to get a response from him. Or coming for Physfit's dick to get the links they still painfully missed, after their fuck-ups in the manner with which they'd asked for them. What a zoo. He clicked the Thunderbird closed, and decided to find out what day it really was.
He checked inside his pants pockets and found the receipt for the Long John Silver's. Checked the date on the almost zero charge smartphone with the date on the receipt. Four days had passed!...
So no wonder, and what was good about it? He could make another excursion to Long John Silver's :-) Which he almost immediately did.
Physfit drove the 7 miles, windows all open, feeling great. Texas could beat American homos and smart alecks' "San Francisco" ten times over on days like that. Too bad they were rare. And too bad each time they came,   people couldn't go outside to enjoy them. They had to be at work. And only when the day was over and gone, they'd come out to live with what was left of it.
He got there, got his Aspire One mini laptop dedicated to DOS with qBASIC on it out of his backpack and fired it on, drove into the drive-thru and at the menu board ran the code he'd made to convert repeating decimals into reduced fractions, before ordering anything. As he looked up to see the menu, he went like,
    "What in the world of the Holy Fucking Penis!" as he slowly scanned the board left and right.
All prices were given in continued fractions. He shouted, "FUCK!" and turned off and placed his Aspire One mini laptop dedicated to DOS with qBASIC on it back inside his backpack, made the order for three fillets, then drove to the window.
Same nice girl was at the window, gadget in hand, with "nice" meaning fuckworthy. She put some numbers in the gadget and told him, "$15 for fillets by themselves, and $22 for same, but as meal." Physfit said, "Wasn't it the other night $13 and $18 respectively?" She replied, "This is Dallas, and that was the other night."
On taking that relatively brash remark, Physfit told himself, "Hmm.. so she's only good for fuck then." He briefly looked forward and then back at the clerk and asked how she'd calculated the price. She said the number the continued fraction is calculated into was the price of the three fillets as meal, and the sum of the numbers that were added to all those fractions, from first line down to the last line at the bottom, gave the price for the three fillets on their own.
He added a huge side of coleslaw to the order, paid for it and drove back home.
On the menu board, how was the price of the three fillets expressed in continued fractions?
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