The Bottom 10 inspirational thought of the week:

Math is a won-der-ful thing

Math is a really cool thing

So get off your "ath"

Let's do some math

Math, math, math, math, math.

54 is 45 more than ... what is the answer, Marta?

(Marta) Nine.

(Jack) No, it's eight ...

(Marta) No, it's NINE!

(Jack) Yes I was testing you, it's nine ... and that's a magic number.

-- "Math" by Jack Black, "School of Rock"

"What's the deal with all this math? I will NEVER USE THIS!"

We all scream it when we're kids. Maybe you did it in the third grade, when the teacher went, "These are called the multiplication tables" or in middle school, when the instructor said, "Open up your algebra book" or in high school, when science that used to be about cool photos and exploding experiments suddenly became equations and algorithms.

Whenever it happened doesn't matter. It happened. And we all stood up and exasperatingly made that "I'll never use this" declaration.

Here at Bottom 10 headquarters, located inside the PODS unit where Mark May stores all his Ohio State memorabilia, life has become one big Mathlympics. Why? Because the end of the college football season is nigh. Schedules are crossing the finish line. Win-loss records are no longer being written in pencil, but with Sharpies. OK, actually, it's crayon. We can't afford Sharpies. OK, they aren't even nice crayons. We can't afford those, either. We use the ones they give you with the kids' menu at the Seafood Hut. The ones that look like Crayolas, but when you look closer, the logo actually just says "CRAYONS."

Clearly, I'm stalling here. Just like I used to when Miss Dunn would call me to the front of the class to work a long division problem on the marker board. It was just another bout with math that I was obviously never going to figure out.

Like this year's Bottom 10.

On paper (wait, did you print this out?) it would seem as though the 2015 Bottom 10 is all set. But it's not. Yes, the top bottom two teams are done for the year, but others chasing them are not. And between now and next week's final standings, we will be doing all of that math we once swore we'd never use. Why? Because we're thorough, that's why. We want to provide you with the most accurate Bottom 10 possible.

Also, the longer we draw this out, the longer the college football season might last. Even if we're drawing it out with CRAYONS.

With apologies to Ned Schneebly and Steve Harvey, here's this week's Bottom 10.

UCF fell to USF in the Middle Florida Middle Consonant Classic, not only losing all rights to the usage of the letter S for the next 12 months, but also completing a free fall from their 2013 Fiesta Bowl that can only be matched by Wile E. Coyote plummeting to the bottom of the canyon. Lucky for Wile E., his fall was broken. Knightro was already laying down there.

The Jayhawks suffered their first winless season since 1954. Coincidentally, 1954 was the same year that was celebrated as the centennial anniversary of the term "Jayhawk." Initially, the nickname was not a compliment, used to describe looters and raiders during the time of civil unrest that followed the Kansas-Nebraska Act of 1854. Here at Bottom 10 HQ we are taking that history under advisement, fearing a possible repeat of such a rampage after next week's Kansas-Central Florida Act of 2015.

ULM (pronounced "ulm") went down to Hawaii (pronounced "huh-WHY-yuh") and lost Pillow Fight of the Week of the Year 8 (PFOWY8). This week they host PFOWY9, as fellow Bottom 10 stalwarts New Mexico State come to Monroe (pronounced "MAHN-row"). Yes, ULM has already played a dozen games. But yes, they still have one more to play. Why? Because the Sun Belt (pronounced "Fun Belt") is the conference that keeps on giving.

One year ago, the Bottom 10 title was a season-long, multiplayer range war between the Sun Belt and MAC East. It was like watching the "Hunger Games" if they'd replaced the swords and arrows with bratwursts and corn dogs. But this year, the Eagles were left to defend the honor of MACtion alone. Like Katniss Everdeen. Wait ... is Ypsilanti in District 12?

5. Old dudes in LSU blazers

LSU beat writer Glenn Guilbeau quoted a university board member who, at the height of the Les Miles fired/not fired telenovela, declared, "We look like potted plants. Have you seen what they're saying about us on ESPN?" I didn't just see it, hoss. I said some of it. And if you think being a potted plant is bad, just imagine what we think those plants were fertilized with.

Last week I suggested that the Mean Green's game against the Middle Tennessee Blue Raiders should have been called the Primary Colors Classic. Then I received an email from reader Doug Stout, who reminded me that green is not a primary color, scientifically proven by the yellow + blue = green Ziploc sandwich bag seals. Doug's right. I was wrong. I totally blame the CRAYONS.

The Musdangs will not repeat last year's Bottom 10 runner-up performance, a tiebreaker with Georgia State Not Southern that was decided by, yes, math. But it wasn't for lack of effort. After upsetting Tulane two weeks ago, SMU moved out of the rankings. However, their time on the outside lasted all of 11 minutes and 40 seconds. That's how long it took for Memphis to go up 28-0 en route to a nail-biter 63-0 victory.

Charlotte started the season 2-0. They finished 0-10. To cope, I suggest 49ers fans counter the overwhelming ugliness of their Charlotte with the overwhelming cuteness of the other Charlotte. Those new pics just released of 6-month-old Princess Charlotte of Cambridge are coated in sugar. Coincidentally, she's the great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandchild of Queen Charlotte of Mecklenburg, whom the North Carolina city and university are named for. I'm thinking she'll probably never have to use CRAYONS from the Seafood Hut.

You ever see a guy who's normally the cool guy at school who shows up at an event like a comic-con or a band competition and thinks he's still going to be the cool guy and then realizes that he's no longer the cool guy because he's totally outnumbered by the people he thinks are nerds and suddenly he's the one who's no longer cool? That's what happens whenever a new team from a Power 5 conference suddenly shows up in the Bottom 10.

When you surrender the lead to Idaho with 1:02 remaining, the Kibbie Dome feels like the Terror Dome. Or maybe the Thunder Dome. Or even worse, being stuck "Under The Dome" and forced to watch Pauly Shore's "Bio-Dome."

Waiting list: Ore-gone State (2-10), Why, oming? (2-10), Army Black Nots (2-9), Huh-why-yuh (3-10), I-ow!-a State (3-9), Flori-duh's offense.