Monthly Archives: March 2012

“Censorship Is Never Right.”

Today, my dear friends, I have some really exciting news. Last night, as you probably know if you follow my blog, I attended my Solo Ensemble, which was held at my own High School last night. Tons of schools were in attendance, and it was generally a good time. After bombing my first piece (A Class A duet with Alice…we got a 2), I then got a break before doing my Italian Solo. I’m pleased to say (Pleased, no, ecstatic. No…fucking legitimately horrifically excited) to announce that I will be attending State with that Solo. Immediately, I had to change into my Musical Theater garb and head down to Site 11 to perform an excellent rendition of ‘Just You Wait’ from My Fair Lady.  I’m fucking legitimately horrifically excited to say that that piece also become State worthy.

I’m going to State with my two Solos. I couldn’t be happier about this. But, of course, I knew I would…because I’m hella talented at singing. After that, I had to rush down the hallway, tearing off my clothes as I went, to get to my next piece, which was a Class B Duet with my friends Courtney and Brianna. We got a 2 on that piece as well.

Overall, including the parts where I pronounced my undying love for stranger or made confessions of carrying their children…it was a fanfuckingtastic night. We are going to change the subject now.

My friend Cody, who is a total baller, is fighting one of the teachers about censorship. He likes using lewd language, as most teenagers do, and he doesn’t understand why we should be censored. There’s no meaning behind any words unless you put meaning behind them. He feels like his character is being threatened by being censored in such a way.

We’ve talked about internet censorship before, but we haven’t spoken of censorship in the real world, and this is what I am here to discuss with you right now. Right or Wrong? There are arguments about it being okay because there are topics that would be fairly offensive to others if brought up. But, since everyone gets all in a tizzy about different things, then we shouldn’t talk about anything.

List of 3 (What? I’m Lazy) Reasons (and their counterparts) Why Censorship Should (or should not be) banned (and the counterparts to the counterparts).

1. Freedom of Speech. ALWAYS it has been stated that we have the right to use our words in a way in which we deem fit. It’s completely up to our own consciences and our social barriers to choose appropriate conversational topics.

Back when they made up that rule, people were raised in a better way, a way in which they spoke lightly and evenly and were brought up to know the difference between right and wrong when discussing tender subjects.

Well, oil me up and wrap me in sheepskin, I think you’re hearkening back to the days when it took five hours to travel ten miles. It doesn’t matter if the rule was made back when cavemen still didn’t understand what a rock could be used for, it still exists now, and for a reason. It’s the responsibility of the person in question to decide what they and others find offensive, not the responsibility of school boards, work places, or churches.

2. Interesting debates. If all subjects including offensive material are banned from conversation, how are we supposed to broaden our horizons and expand our minds and all that bullshit?

Well, you could discuss Socially acceptable topics, like world history, or politics. You don’t need to breach offensive topics that could give you a bad name.

What I just can’t seem to get is why some topics (i.e Sex, drugs) are more acceptable than others (i.e the massive, disgusting and torturous killing of entire religions/races during WW11). So, who decides this? Sex can be a beautiful thing, and it has been proven through some psychological study that if you’re a teenager and you spend gobs of time talking about sex and making inappropriate jokes about sex, you’re probably not getting any. This kind of discussing shouldn’t be looked down on, it should be supported full-heartedly, for the parents. Instead of protecting our children, let’s expose them to information so detailed that it almost illustrates what Nazi Scientists did to the still-living bodies of hundreds of children.

3. Racial Sensitivity. As in, why is there any? Why can’t we just get over shit and call people whatever we want? I’m not saying to walk down the street calling every African-American a ‘Nigger’ or every Chinese person a ‘Chink’, but I’m saying that some topics here in America that are found socially acceptable are things that you would never even think to bring up in other countries. For example, we can bad-talk our President without getting killed.

There are racial boundaries for a reason. As Americans, we believe we are more educated, more intelligent, more talented, and stronger than other countries. We’ve proved that we think we’re superior by budging into other countries’ business on almost a monthly basis instead of minding our own balls.

I think you’re running short on arguments, evil version of Telea inspired by the internet. The simple fact of the matter is that though we can openly discuss the Holocaust and what happened and lay blame on Germans without feeling any remorse at all, we would not broach that topic in Germany without fear of getting shot. If we break down the barriers and just let censorship float away on the wind, then people can actually become educated on their own about what to say and what not to say.

It is not the right of anyone to tell us what we should or should not say. We have our own words and our own definitions. The fact that anyone can exert power as a superior is morally disgusting to me.  Think about it.

Love ya!


The day is long, but time is short.

No list of five today. Not much humor, and not much crazy Telea. Why? Because today is Solo Ensemble, my dear lovers, and the fact of the matter is that I don’t feel prepared at all. I’m also in the middle of writing a Junior paper and my advisor tells me that I should be paying more attention to that instead of blogging. Well, does writing a Junior paper make me happy, or give me a sense of fulfillment?

No, a Junior paper just sucks many balls all the time. I wish not to write this devil paper with all of those horrible citations and stuff, but I do know that eventually, I will have to finish it and turn it in. For now, though, I’m going to post on this blog and on my three others, and then I’m going to practice my music pieces all day until I find myself to be State-Worthy.

Yes, I am a little obsessed. We do have a story for you pretty little things today. About my date…

It didn’t really happen. So, here I am, hanging at my local park where we were gonna meet, and here comes his car, and I go, ooohh, that’s awesome that he showed up so promptly. He begins exiting his car when, BAM!

Another car comes out of nowhere carrying the oh-so-hot and oh-so-jackass Mr. Sampson, and he pulls up and yells:

“Weren’t we gonna hang today, Chris?”

As soon as Chris gets that ‘oh shit’ look on his face, I know I’m screwed. He looks at me apologetically and then turns around and climbs right back into his car. Dick. Now, I’m not saying I’m mad, because it’s whatever. Another date, another time. What miffed me was that he didn’t text me last night. Because I can understand the whole ‘bros before hos’ deal, but I cannot, for the life of me, get why he wouldn’t text me. Well, fuck  him then.

I’m over it, and now I’m going to move on to doing other things…and hanging out with him NOT on a Wednesday.

Okay, that’s really all I had to say for today. I love you guys, and I shall actually post something of value tomorrow.

Love ya!

Boyyyy, I got a date today!

Okay, so, let’s follow the story of Telea’s brilliant life, in which everything (including all things bad) is brilliant today. I don’t care that I’m being accused of a million thousand (three) things, because this dear Telea…

Has a semi-kinda-a little bit-possibly real-informal date today!

Ahhh, feel free to stand and applaud, my dear compatriots, because this date is not only HELLA sexy, but also everything else. Ahh, I’m making little noises of joy in my throat. Now, nothing can be concrete or said for sure, but I’m just going to say…if you’re starting at point A, on a destination to point C, I would say I’m at point B. Hopefully.


I have told this story about eight (thousand) times today, so I think I’m just gonna let it rest with the fact that I might have a date, and that, if nothing else, I at least have someone to chill with after school.

Moving on, today we’re talking about things that are thingy. Yes, I know. I’m terrible it Blog-Stalling, and if I would just stop typing for five minutes to think up a topic instead of writing about not having one, none of us would have this issue.

Five great date ideas (for your demon lover).

1. Human hunting. Your demon lover will be hungry, and you will be able to help him or her out by grabbing your crossbow from the basement and saying:

“Honey, let’s go kill our neighbors.’

2. Vacation to hell. Who doesn’t want to visit their birthplace once in a while? Take your lover on a three-day tour of where he or she grew up, and end it with a romantic flesh picnic in purgatory.

3. Get him or her an undead minion. Take them on a shopping trip through their favorite cemetary and have them choose which flavor of minion they would like, and then raise them like you would raise the roof at Satan’s Bar Mitzvah.

4. Go terror by night. Scaring people in the dark is one of the things some demons like to do. Inhabit a small or large city for a week or so and torture and frighten people.

5. There is nothing a demon likes more than a road trip. Plot out a tour of all the hell-gates or openings to purgatory and just go everywhere. Your demon will be so pleased with the thought (and all the time alone with you), that they will have no choice but to turn you into a demon yourself.

Trust me, I would know.

Love ya!

People just piss me off!

Okay, so there has been a good deal of needless drama at my school, and I have been placed smack-dab in the middle of it, because some people are dirty rumor-mills who take a scrap of harmless information and turn it into something that could potentially make you the nearest thing to a social pariah.

Now, I’m not saying any names here, but I believe that Kelsey needs to go die in a hole, or at least go sit in a hole and stay there until she learns that making plans with someone is not the same thing as making plans to bone someone. I’m sorry, I’m angry today, and I am hoping that my rage and angst will make for an entertaining blog post. Haha, right.

I should make a drama hotline, so that when an innocent bystander is pulled into needless angst and fuckery, they can just call and I will be all super-hero-like and make everything go away. I will be called…The Exception.

Why? Because the word ‘Anti-Drama’ and the word ‘Woman’ don’t seem to fit well in a sentence together, and so I will be the exception to the law that all women are dramatic and disgusting pieces of filth that should not have permission to inhabit this earth. Think I’m wrong? Visit my home town.

Today’s list of five is a list of five rumors that have been circulated about me since my Freshman year.


1. That I was pregnant. Of course, one of the times this rumor was spread, it was all my fault, and a joke, but this rumor has been spread…three times? Now, I’m not saying I aborted this rumor faster than I would abort a demonic rape-baby…but I abandoned ship as soon as I heard there was a leak in the outer hull. Pregnancy isn’t okay at my age, and to have people look at you like you’re a leper? That’s not so delicious.

2. That I am a lesbian. Oh my god, ongoing rumors, to an extent that boys will not date me because they feel like I will cheat on them with women. Eh, I don’t particularly mind these rumors, but they’re still a wee bit annoying when I’m trying to seek out a beautiful, ahem, I mean handsome, prom date.

3. That I was the one stealing all the cash and hair spray. Well, fuck that guys, the doubt on that one pretty much faded when there were three thefts when I was at home, almost dying of sickness. Also, the whole ‘Oh me, oh my, the exchange student got stolen from’. WHO THE HELL STEALS FROM AN EXCHANGE STUDENT? Whoever it is who is committing these crimes is a dirty low-life who won’t get a love life…ever.

4. That I myself am a rumor-mill who can’t keep secrets. Now, it is true that I have let a couple slip past these holy lips, but the truth of the matter is, I have about 2000 secrets (Okay, exaggeration) from other people that will never pass my tongue to see the light of day.

5. That I am seeking to bone everyone. Now, yes yes, I do have a fair amount of sexual frustration, and I may have crushed on about a third of the male high school student body, but the fact of the matter is that I’m not out for everyone’s dick. This is the particular rumor that’s pissing me off. Yes, because I am going to go bone a man with a child. Yes, I am a total skank. Yes, I deserve to be made into a social pariah, get tarred and feathered, hung, and then thrown off a cliff into an ocean full of angry vaginas. This is exactly what is going on.

Okay, well, I’m done, are you?

Love ya!

What. A. Fucking. Great. Weekend.

Oh my god. If this weekend had gotten any better, I would have strapped a rocket to my ass and flown to the moon. Basically, I am typing at a very slow speed, so the chances that you’ll get a full blog post today are little to none. However, I am a very awesome person, so I will attempt to make your lives happier and more fulfilled by telling you how happy and fulfilled I am.

Let’s start with Saturday, since I don’t remember Friday at all. Like, legitimately, I have no recollection of Friday except for two words that may or may not but most certainly do describe one of the reasons I was so happy. I won. I won. I won. Yes. Okay, moving on to Saturday.

I went to the District Competition in Menomonie for Forensics and made it to state with the scores: 18 (A ‘What the fuck, you’re a total bitch’ Score), 23, and 25 (An ‘Oh my god, I’m fucking awesome at everything’  Score). This is where you tell me how amazing and fantastic I am, and then we all snuggle. Mmmmm snuggles.

Then, I went to a Bonfire, and met a fantastic man by the name of Ryan, who, though incredibly shy and a little hard to get talking, was pretty damn cute, and is now my facebook friend. May we meet again, cute Ryan from Hudson.

Sunday was the day that I was supposed to hang out with Lexi, but, due to her mother being a total cuntwagon, this did not happen. I salvaged my ruined day by texting everyone I knew to come chill at my local Park. Two people were there with me for 3 hours. Then, another one showed up. Then, we called one of my favorite people ever, and we made him come, and it was really great. He brought fantastic gifts to share with all who wished to, and we ended up standing around a fire, smiling to ourselves, and telling each other stories that we don’t remember anymore.

I then proceeded to go home and cook a three-course dinner for five…and eat it all myself.

Best weekend ever. Well, not ever, but I was pretty damn pleased with the end result. Now, I’m sitting in school again and wondering

Why, oh why, must I be exposed to this torture?

I am still in a fantastic mood.

Our list of five today is a list of five reasons I would make a really good Hobo.

1. Reason number one is that I’m really good at foraging. Foraging for firewood, or berries, or matches, or water, I’m just good at it. I’m like a fucking bear, except I don’t hibernate and I apparently eat bear (delicious!). So, while we only brought five pieces of wood to the park, I kept the fire going for eight straight hours. This is either an attest to how fucking delusional I am or the fact that due to being an honorary boy scout for nigh on 10 years, I can make a fucking great fire.

2. I will salvage still-working materials from the ground, dumpsters, and back alley-ways. This weekend, I salvaged a kite and some Colgate Wisps. After a couple of odd glances in my direction, one person stated that I would make a perfect hobo. I then told much hobo lore.

3. I know much hobo lore. I’m like the gypsy fortune-teller of hobo lore. I’m really great. I don’t know what else to say, but I’m great.

4. I’m good on my own. When I’m by myself in a park or an alleyway or anywhere, I don’t get scared and I don’t get lonely. Of course, there’s always people around, and it’s always a really good time, so it’s great. I’m using the word great a lot because I’m buzzed from this weekend, and I say great, except without a T. Like…Grea’. I know you just whispered that word to yourself to see how it sounded.

5. I have many friends. Chris said that he would bake me a pie every day if I lived in the park. I would never go hungry again. Have I ever gone hungry? Hobos go hungry a lot. Damn, fuck, now I’m hungry.

In conclusion, I’m not funny today, and also, also, also, Some time this summer, I’m going to spend a whole weekend at that park. Take that, you hobolicious pieces of ass.

Love ya!

I told you I’d be back!

Okay, so after a rather sad and depressing week in which I was only inspired to write black poetry about dying, I am back, and about the same as I was before. I must apologize for my extended absense, but I did warn you, and I have been working really hard on getting back on my feet for you guys.

To be quite honest, I’ve missed all of this. It’s kind of a relief to be able to come back and have humor and happiness again (you know, because on this blog, I’m never EVER depressed).

Let’s talk about things. What things? All sorts of things, because it’s going to take me a while to get back into my old swing of writing, so I’m trying to be basic and overly excessive all at the same time. Let’s first do a quite life update for one beautiful Telea.

Sad, Linkin Park, Sad, Music, Sexual Frustration, Funerals, Wakes, Music Music Music, Blink 182, Linkin Park, SEXUAL FRUSTRATION, no sleep, dropped some weight, hanging at parks, music music music, sexual frustration.

You guys just get me sooooo well sometimes. I love you people.

Our real topic of the day is going to be something I obviously haven’t covered before, and yes, right now I am stalling because I can’t think of what to cover.

Ooohh, stalling.

Five Stalling Techniques.

1. The ‘Sorry, we’re both moving the same direction’ stall. Sometimes, this can be an honest mistake, but sometimes, you need some time to stall something that’s happening (maybe in the back room), and you purposely employ this dastardly means of fuckery. It’s simple. You are being approached by someone who is moving towards you (that was quite redundant), and you are walking towards them as well (quite obviously). You need them to stop moving in the direction they are moving in, so you almost run into them. Sense their next move to step around you and parry. And again. This technique will only work for a maximum of 15 seconds, at which point, they will take your shoulders to stop you, and step around.

2. The ‘Oh God, I think I broke something’ stall. This is almost famous for being effective, because the chances that you know the person you’re trying to stall (or at least the chances that they’re at all compassionate about their fellow human beings) are rather high. It’s simple. You fake a fall, or hit something really hard. Just make it look real. Crumple in pain and call out for their help. Ham it up a little bit by extending your hands towards them specifically. Works at least 50 percent of the time, and can give you up to half an hour of stalling.

3. The ‘Hey, would you like to buy this’ stall. This only works if you look scrappy or have a lot of one item in your possession at the time. Also, the person you are stalling HAS to be a stranger. You can’t try to sell something to a friend, they get suspicious. Hold out whatever you’re attempting to sell and tell the person that you need money for your family. If they agree quickly, try to barter the price up a little, for stalling purposes. If they disagree, hound them like crazy. This stalling technique can work for up to five minutes, or maybe 10 if you’re a pro.

4. The ‘Shit, I’ve lost my…” technique. This requires some compassion on the part of the person you’re trying to stall, and some absolute panic on your part. Try Wallet, or Phone. Beg them to help you. Ask to use their phone (or wallet) to help you find your phone (or wallet). Most likely, they will stop and help you. In the case that they do not, get angry. I mean, get really angry. Yell at them and tell them they are selfish assholes. That you have a wife and kids at home and that wallet had your last paycheck in it. This stalling technique can actually work for up to three hours.

5. The ‘Sexual Advance’ Stall. Plain and simple, just make a move. A pickup line will generally get you a little time, but if you’re really daring, you’ll just attack them and start taking their clothes off. Try lines like ‘You and me, Bathroom, NOW’. It may or may not but definitely will work if you’re anything near attractive and they are anything near single or sexually frustrated. This stalling technique can work for a period of time between ten seconds (the casual brush-off) or four hours (the ‘let’s go back to my place’).

Wow, I’m pretty sure I just nailed that blog post.

Love ya!

Not Posting.

Okay, as I informed my following base on Facebook, I would like to let you all know that I’m taking all of this coming week off. I know, bloggers don’t take weeks off, but I have to.

An incredible person that I was friends with passed away on Thursday in a tragic motorcycle accident only about 200 yards from my house. His name was Cole Cran, and he was going to graduate in May. He impacted everyone he met, and I don’t think he’ll be forgotten any time soon.

I’m so glad I got the chance to get to know him better this year, because all of this sadness and depression is worth it knowing I had befriended probably one of the most amazing, caring, generous, and funny people I will ever have the pleasure of meeting.

We can take consolation in the fact that he had many friends and lived a full life. He died doing what he loved, and safely, at that. To those who may think he was fucking around or not wearing a helmet, I can assure you that this is not the case. What happened was purely accidental, and that makes it easier and so much harder all at the same time.

Everyone who’s lives he touched will remember him forever, and so he lives on in memory.

We love you, Cole David Cran, may you Rest in Peace.