Ask the Angst Ridden Teen

Ask the Angst Ridden Teen
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Our first, and last, attempt at an advice column, featuring bitchin' Thaddeus!

Dear Angst Ridden Teen,

I recently purchased a lot in the Czech country-side, and finally began building my dream home. I am torn between a brick or a stucco facade. Which would you recommend? - Excited in Melnik

You poor fool. Listen to your self-satisfaction at having achieved what they have convinced you to believe is your goal. I weep for you and your poor misguided life. Don't you see that economic success and gain is a mere illusion of happiness? From the time you were a child they have been prodding you into a life of slaving for wages and savings. I believe you to be lost already, incapable of ever experiencing true contentment; a state which only a few of us will ever achieve through toil, emotional sweat and constant defeat. Build your home you wretched soul, brick or stucco, you are only constructing the walls of your life's prison!

Dear Angst Ridden Teen,
I recently entered our town's baking contest with my sister. While we agreed to not take it too seriously, my apple kolac won the grand prize and her's won nothing at all. Now she won't speak to me. What do I do? - Didn't mean to do it

Ah, the bitter throes of sibling rivalry persist through the ages like a virus that metamorphoses, refusing each potential cure. Your sister is gripped in the passion of jealousy, that vilest and most seductive of human emotions. Be afraid, for each attempt you make at reconciling with her will only serve to stoke her fires. She sees the content in your eyes. 

You only want to make up because you won. You don't really care for her at all, after all, you've got the blue ribbon. What has she got? Nothing but the disgrace of non-recognition. What need for a sister do you have, Miss Grand-Prize Winner? Your sister won't speak to you again unless she has disgraced you in the same torturous manner you've ruined her. It is a grudge she may take to her grave!

Dear Angst Ridden Teen,
I've been seeing Robert, my English teacher for almost two months. He says he wants to go "all the way" with me and if I loved him, I would. I think I love him, but I'm not sure. I'm 14 and Bobby's 37. Am I too young?- Sincerely Confused

Oh, young flower, hold tight to your virgin purity. If only your young mind could conceive of the horrors borne of intimacy between two souls. Controlled by the lustful urging of your loins, nothing I say here will dissuade you from sacrificing your innocence to the devouring jaws of his want. But heed me young one, the road of relationships ends only in destruction and weakness. This tryst will leave your heart an open, festering wound, unable to recover dignity or pride. Only after you have become a huddled lump of tears will you remember my advice to you, young confused; Get out! Save yourself! Hide behind a wall of callous stoicism and never show your emotions to another again!


On the next page is an excellent poem by one of our readers, Douglas Housh, read it and know what evil Amerika is!

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