To the asshole who stole my 7 year old son's Christmas presents from the trunk of my car last week. Thanks so much! For your convenience, I have placed the receipts to said items in my mailbox (you know where I live) in case you want to return or exchange them! —Cindy Lou Who

WTF?

Peanut Butter and honey or cranberry or cinnamon raisin or banana in the same jar? Because preservative-ridden peanut butter on it's own is too hard to put on one slice of bread with fresh ingredients on another?

Apparently sales are down so much due to peanut allergies that the market calls for MORE peanut products to be made for stupid people to buy so they can keep their sugar riddled peanut butter on the market. —first world problems - borderline ridiculous

I have had enough of the negative crap this year. Job loss and subsequent screwover by EI followed by inability to get hired because I'm apparently "overqualified" for everything I can find in the job market, debilitating illness, mounting debt, multiple deaths, struggles with depression (mine and my partner's), and now the looming loss of our house, not to mention the incredible stress on our marriage.

ENOUGH ALREADY!

—Getting through the day is a full time job. Too bad it doesn't pay bills.

All the shit that happened to you, school, family, and work, I tried to support you and do whatever I could to make your life easier. Even after you dumped me, when we were supposed to be friends, I was there for you to talk to about all your problems. But when I needed you, you tried your best to turn tail and run. You said I had asked to much, it was too stressful for you, too hard on you... Well all I asked was for you to be there for me, and be supportive of me for a week while I was going through something very scary. I asked of you something any of my other friends would have gladly done if I had felt able to tell them about the situation. But for you it was too much. If it's so hard for you to just be nice and caring towards your friends when they really need you, I don't even want to know you. Talk to me if you ever realize —what you threw away

You know who you are and for what school you claim to work hard for. I heard you. You were on your cell complaining about the " retards" you oversee and even openly stated its part time and explained that the school "will hire anyone". Who are you?! How'd you get that position?! You're gross; talking about all the drugs you took and how hungover from the weekend you just had. Even stated you had the chance to do so bc your "deadbeat ex" had "the asshole" for those days. You do know about kharma, right? My teenager heard you and was disturbed and disgusted and wants to report you. Food for thought: he isn't a deadbeat if he pays the grand per month you claimed so loudly for "section 13 and 7" and does weekends. —Annoyed by your performance and character

There are these stickers on the bus. They say "reserved for the handicapped/disabled wheelchair users and/or expectant mothers". They do not say "strollers". Parents: I understand your need to use these seats (you can't block the aisle/you have bulky equipment) but these are reserved for people like me for a reason. I don't come with a label, so you CAN'T always tell, but I promise if I go down/pass out because of my system deciding to shut down or because of a lead foot driver I will be far more dangerous to you, your kids, other passengers and even myself than your stroller not taking that space will be.( I fall further)

I get it people use that space that really don't need to. Discourteous teens and college kids, people with headphones plugged in and disconnected from the world entirely...I do, but If you don't have the gumption to at least ask me to move (and give me a chance to explain) then you don't get the right to act like a jerk, make snarky comments to other parents or passengers because I assumed you have courtesy to give those seats to the people they're reserved for. Be the adult and example for your kids you're supposed to be and have some common courtesy. Thanks. —The Disabled

This is to the asshat who slipped the note that said "Your sex stinks" underneath my apartment door: Who does that fucking shit? What kind of a miserable person are you that you felt the need to write something like that to someone who hasn't wronged you ever? You're also a coward. Too afraid to knock on my door and verbally tell me to my face? Yep. On top of that, you're full of shit. My boyfriend and I have optimum personal hygiene so I'm not sure how the smell of our sex could seep into your place. Maybe you were outside my door while we were having our daily fun? If you are the one who did this (you know who you are!), know this: I've NEVER heard you getting fucked ever. This act of nastiness just proved to me that you don't get your plumbing cleared out! —Gets laid a lot

Just who do you think you are weaving in and out of traffic down the Bedford Highway in your shitty little red and black Honda? No turn signal. You almost collided with my front end you fucking moron. And for what?! To get one or two cars ahead of me. But it didn't stop there. You kept doing it all the way towards Bedford still I lost sight of you. This isn't a video game you useless piece of shit.

However, I expect more of this behavior getting closer to Christmas. Bayers Lake is a fine example of impatient drivers. What a hoot it was this weekend. —Sensible Driver

Tickets on sale Sat the 23rd at 10 am.Superstore counter 10:10 only tickets left upper bowl.All the floor and lower bowl sold by pre order.The people in the lineup do not buy online or paid in cash as I do.Because of this we wind up with crappy seats.Ticket seller should limit the presale to 70 or 80 per cent and the rest sold on the day of sale.That way everyone gets a fair shot at decent seats.Thank you —ed

How the fuck do I keep getting cut off in marked, signaled crosswalks though? Motherfucker just turn your damned eyes right before you turn right, it's not hard. —Tryna cross a damned street over here