Fall is here, and you know what that means: back to school advice from Rooster Quibbits. Yep, that’s me: a bird about town, always giving tips and tricks to the rising generations of spuds, seeds, and everyone in need.
First, you’re gonna need a binder. Get five of them, all with three-ring capability. You can’t go to chemistry class with a disorganized binder—your teacher will hit you. Trust me, I’ve been there.
Second: book covers. These serve no practical or aesthetic purpose, they’re impossible to find, and they rip after two weeks, but remember: this is a rule that exists simply as a means of punishing students who should be out scouring every Staples and Walgreen’s instead of reading Bertrand Russell or putting together Powerpoints of notable female war generals. Hint: there are none. It’s a trick question. They’ll hit you for getting that one wrong, too.
Third: always bring a pencil sharpener and five different types of pens. I’m not talking just about colors: you’re going to need highlighters, Sharpies, click-pens, pens that say things like “That was easy” or “I farted,” and pens for crossing off days on your calendar. Quick sidebar: keep your calendar organized and up to date. The first thing you should do in the morning—before you brush your teeth, shower, or scream hysterically outside to wake everyone else up—is cross off the previous day on your calendar. Then you’re already halfway there on the road to eternal success.
You might ask, Rooster, why are you talking about this? You don’t have any children. It’s weird, and sudden, and you’ve been teary-eyed and shaky the entire time you— Listen… there was a time when I needed to know this stuff. How to buy backpacks and make sandwiches. Carpool. Parent-teacher meetings. The Drug Enforcement Agency. I’m familiar with the material. I didn’t know I needed to show my credentials every time I try to give some kids some advice. “Actually sir, you do. I’m going to have to ask you leave. Step away from the gazebo. I repeat, step away—sir. Sir. SIR! STEP AWAY FROM THE GAZEBO!”
That’s when I hightailed it out of there, flew a couple feet in the air, and hid in some bushes until the bitch found another bum to chase away. I’m not allowed at my kids’ old school. They have a plaque up and I’m not allowed. Makes me feel like that drunk senator that couldn’t stop bugging construction workers. I shouldn’t be in here. Monica doesn’t like to talk about it.
I can't stand the pain most days. Four years… still I love. I will never let you go… I… Monica doesn’t want me to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about it. LEAVE ME ALONE! You said I only had to do an hour in here, right? Court-ordered mandatory… therapy? Work? Whatever this is? …wait, why is she in here? Has she been transcribing our conversation this entire time? I just saw her… I just saw her for the first time, she was behind… is that a mirror? … I need to, I need a water, could you just get me some medicine, I shouldn’t have lost her—
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