First Day of School

“If it wasn’t for an askew creator who is out to make life both humorous and ironic, then I wouldn’t have no luck at all.” -Me

I woke up at 9:30 am, later than I intended, but after a lifetime of late mornings  I knew to schedule my all classes late. The night before, I had taken care to pack my backpack and roll enough cigarettes for the day, both special and non. Everything was set and I fell asleep at a reasonable hour, which in the world of every day want-to-be rock stars is an early 2:30 am. I woke up frantic and in the bathroom with a flash of light.

Bag set, book set, and cigarette set. A last check of American NonFiction to make sure the post from the night before had posted correctly and I am out the door. I type in the domain address and get GoDaddy ad porn all over my screen. Mother Truckers!?! I remember I had disregarded a handful of e-mails that warned me of an event like this.

Fine, I didn’t pay, but it’s 22 bucks a year. Does GoDaddy think, in the next 12 months, I won’t be able to get them the 20 dollars? Even I have a little more faith in my financial ability. Hell, I even wrote a guide on how to budget. I pay the fee, then call GoDaddy and complain about what a stupid system they have.

Listen, I know I am in the wrong. I know I didn’t pay my bill. They sent me notices, they sent me updates. They told me: “Hey Stupid, pay your bill.” But to cut the power. I contemplate suing them for lost advertising space. My only Durant is the current lack of ANF ad revenue. However, if I had ad revenue, then just think of all the fun I could have with them. The bastards, but then again, this is why I recommend you buy your domain names through Google. GoDaddy is up to 18 dollars for an account where they won’t misuse your information. And what does this say about a company that makes you pay for them not to abuse your personal information. I mean this is madness.

I keep hitting the refresh button on my Firefox browser. Another thing that is not technically kosher, is how GoDaddy throws up ads for their site all over your site, once it shuts down. Ergo, you spend all this time working up the reputation of your site only to give all your hard work to GoDaddy advertisements. What has GoDaddy done to deserve the promotion of a site? Nothing. They do nothing, have set up a bullshit domain hosting service that is out to nickle and dime the world’s population. Then to feel entitled enough to throw ads up on your domain name, the one you created out of the Ether and bought. Well fuck that. They should throw up a site, “Customer site not available at this time” with a GoDaddy plug, but not the horrendous filth they throw all over my screen. I am flipping out.

O.K. American NonFiction, my binary child, is still not up and running on the screen but the guy on the phone assures me he is looking at it: “You have to wait for local provider to pick it up.” To hell with my provider, I have to go pay for school, get my I.D. card, and make a 1 o’clock Math class. I left my house in shambles, got to the bus stop and started the long journey to school.

As for Bus trips, it was a decent one. I arrived at school and got off in a sea of children, the kind who still look and act young, but won’t request the same kind of Police presence at your home. However, absolution from the law still means you’re a scum bag when the 19 year old’s parents catch you in the woodshed. Do they have woodsheds on this coast?

It was a long trip and as I got off the bus, I took out a hand-rolled and took a big puff.

“Is that cannabis?”
“No.” I said with a shocked look on my face as the cigarette was half tobacco.
“Well, could you move up there or put it out? You are on the street.” He said.

He looked, well, he looked like a up-to-date, collar popped prep. He wore the  tight, thin sunglasses of a hip store manager or some kid who thinks he knows he has it going on and as if he has a clue to what the score is. I’ll bet his girlfriend is some empty-headed bimbo with cute looks and not much else. He carried a police style clipboard, though it was an American Apparel friendly bright color, in which he kept his important school documents. The style was awful and cop-like. The determined ones who pick out the ones who don’t have it “together”, in his personal definition of a world view. His sad mistake is I am a Classical Libertarian.

“I could, but I won’t.”
“Well, you are blowing smoke all in my face and there are little kids around here.”
“To be quite literal, I blew smoke accidentally in your face once. Afterwhich, the entirety of this conversation has taken place and the event seems to have occurred only once. So how about we meet at an impasse?”

He gave me the smug look of someone who knew I was being a smart ass, but wasn’t sure if I was his superior in some way, shape or form. In this crowd, I hate to admit I might look more like a young, hep professor more than I look like a student. He resigned and I finished the cigarette across the street in the designated smoking area.

I was in school and already my day wasn’t going well. Then it got worse. Have you looked at the cost of books these days? There is a depression going on and it is emanating from the empty pockets of students who leave the bookstore. Which might make nylon rope a good last minute buy for the counter display inside.

The central tenant of the school appears to be, run administration like a theme park and students will consider this fun. After all, we have been conditioned to stand in these cow hurdling lines for 30 seconds worth of mind bending fun, why not long, non-moving lines for the fun of doling out small amounts of cash for courses and having your picture taken. I go through the book store and think I would rather drop the soap in a prison shower. The admistration is insane with how much books cost. Maybe this is why I run an Post High School imprute bianry school. Then I pay for class, (class cost are rape with lube), and am no closer to getting my ID, as my math class is set to begin.

I race across the schoolyard looking for the Math hall, rush to class and who do I find waiting in line? Why it’s my old friend, Mr. Thin shades. “I Am.” you are a cruel, humor-filled deity. Today’s lesson, prepare and the world is your oyster. Procrastinate and watch it all cumble into petty irony.