Do you ever think that MAYBE you should teach your little hooligans to NOT play on the road where cars drive? You know, you fancy shmancy parents do have wonderful huge yards which is plenty of space for them to play. By you condoning that they play frogger with the cars that drive up and down this street, you are asking for them to get hit by car.. And wouldn't that be such a shame? I don't blame your kids, I blame YOU. —Concerned citizen

I am going to stay in this job for as long as I can, so you can give up bullying me now. —Not going anywhere

Although I tend to date men my own age, I don't discriminate when it comes to friendships and networking; I have friends young and old, male and female. Yet, I'm beginning to see a pattern among my older (50+) male friends to which they are oblivious.

Three of these men are divorced, unhappy and only date much younger women. The men claim that's what they're ATTRACTED to, they can't help it. Age is nothing but a number, they quip.

Me and one of the guys go for coffee, he always complains about his 25 year old girlfriend who parties too much while he foots the bill and suspects she is seeing much younger men (men her own age) behind his back.

Another of these men is full silverback, wears the same clothes all the time, has a certain dank smell about him and says he likes exciting sex that only 20 year olds on POF can offer. He wonders why he is so unlucky in love. After two dates, he offers the young women free room and board in his house if she will be his girlfriend (mother, maid and warm place to put it).

Another of these men pushing 60, has succeeded in finding a live in early thirties trophy; although she's a bit homely-looking, she's cute enough for him. She cooks for him, gambles her best years for free rent in his home in the boonies... yet he feels something is missing and pines for someone a bit sexier, perhaps a blonde.

All of these men complain about how miserable they are, how unfulfilled they are in their relationships. They long for reciprocal hot young things, great sex (even though they probably have limp dicks) and loyalty. And they actually yearn for real love. But they are a 2 on the hotness scale and compared to them their young things are 10's. They think because they have a couple bucks they can buy this kind of real love for which they yearn from a woman decades younger. Why to impress their friends? To date someone their own kids age, are they perverted? Daddy Warbucks, you may be kind... and rich compared to a 20 year old college student just starting out.... but that's all you have to offer these women. When you look for love without integrity karma will give you what you deserve every time. You might be able to buy a bit of fun. A moment of fantasy. An ego boost for a night. But you can't buy love. As much as you claim otherwise, your intentions were not good or honorable. They were never based on love. Your antics will succeed in jading these women against men and against true love. Everybody's got a price but what are you really buying? A lie. Stop being a delusional prick. Look in a mirror. You are an old, wrinkled, ugly, sagging mess. It's not gonna happen. Go back to your wives if they will have you or find someone your own age. You might actually have half a hope in hell of finding the real thing, you dirty old man!

—Daddy issues

Were you taught the history of Confederation?
Our glorious country, from sea to shining see?
Sorry, that's that Other Place – that place of mottoes,
Of Live Free or Die, of Resist Much, Obey Little...

Our place is ancient, pomp, powder wigged -
Right Honorable, but God Forbid Sir'd or Lorded.
Change, Change! the politicians say on schedule,
Yet every time, we get a Premier; a cabinet in gang-colors.

Why? Why do we do this every time?
Why do we believe that we have to do it?
Would you trust a politician to represent you, in any circumstance?
Do you trust any-one to hold your rights completely?

I digress - on Confederation, do you know the Charlettown Conference?
I am sure you do, it's famous – But,
Were you taught that it was meant
Only to be a union of the Maritimes?

Then crashing the party, lo and behold:
The Right Honorable John A. himself.
I think you can guess the rest,
Here we are, after all, all proud Canadians.

But even then you'd be missing a great moment:

Joseph Howe – that Newspaper Guy with the statue.
He was Premier once, I'm sure you know that -
His party won 18 of the 19 seats in the province.
But, do you know his party's platform?

Independence from Canada.

Can you imagine? A majority government,
Elected on a platform of pride and independence,
During the time of Confederation,
Not wanting to live under the thumb of others.

And so, the Proposition was politely presented to the Feds,
Who politely declined, of course.
And we, Proto-Canadians, politely accepted their decision.
And in that moment, politely, Nova Scotia lost its rights.

By being denied our ultimate right – of Independence,
With not so much of a peep in protest,
We, by implication, consented to our remaining rights
being stripped of us, if given the convenience to.

That is the precedent we live within.
Right out of the gate our most sacred right denied to us.
The good fight given up by a politician,
Who didn't want to insult proud institutions.

We cast our votes – some do, anyhow – less every year,
Told that not to vote is a cardinal sin;
That people gave up their lives for our privileged rights.
But, rights to what rights?

The right to sign our rights over to Them?
Them, who smile and wave and kiss the baby's cheek?
Who represent us, and our rights, in power that we give Them -
By our ticking a box in a polling station.

Next time you vote, if you vote,
Consider what you are assenting to.
Consider what it means to be represented.
And consider what rights you're giving up.

And when the smiling politician,
Turns out to be a Right Honorable Ass,
I don't want you to look for a new politician,
I want you to look for a different kind of change.
—Born the Tired Child of Tired Voters

We work on the seventh floor of a rather depressing building and I used to hate coming to work every day until you walked on in about five years ago. Every morning when I open the door to the office to drop off your coffee you greet me with a million-watt smile and make me feel like the luckiest guy on Earth to be on the receiving end of it. —Formerly Unlucky 7

This isn't survival of the fittest or smartest. Halifax is a dump that I apparently can't afford to live in. My own fucking hometown. Guys are douchebags. Girls are bitches. The adults have no respect. I have nowhere else to go. Thanks Halifax for ruining my life one asshole at a time. Btw-no one knows how to drive here either. —Slumlord

There are two entirely unrelated things, which I see in Halifax on a daily basis, that I am confused about. 1. What's the point in wearing a bike helmet if you're not going to do it up? 2. If scrubs are supposed to be worn in order to ensure that your clothing is uncontaminated, why do health professionals insist on wearing them outside when they're out on errands? —Confused.

Fall isn't the same without the Canadian Surf Film Festival. What the heck happened to it? It just fell off the face of social media. You can't just start up an amazing film festival, run it for a few years, and then just disappear! That is just cruel and unusual! At least pass it on to someone else; why put all of that energy in to getting it off the ground? —Can't Handle Another CSFF-less Fall

Dear local purveyor of wine, beer and spirits: Please supply only good wine which should be sold in bottles, not cartons. Wine bottles should be corked, not screw-topped. Boxed and screw-topped wine is cheap and dirty. Now I realize that this is Nova Scotia, where even cheaper, dirtier wine is produced and bought by locals with no palate but there are those of us who have taste. Please cater to us as well. —Jesus Sonovabitch

I've been pregnant since February. This pregnancy hasn't been easy for me. I'm frequently tired, emotional and hormonal. And it's made me a home body whenever I'm not working. I turned down the last two of your suggestions to hang out because you kept getting me at a bad time. Sorry I didn't feel like going all the way out to Fall River to come hang out with you for a night. It wasn't just the distance. I just didn't plain feel like it. Then you practically invite yourself over to MY place, stating you'll stop by next Friday. When I told you my husband and I planned to have a quiet night alone that night, you go all diva on me, telling me how lame I've become since I got pregnant. You ragged on me for not asking you how your new job was going, and telling me "The world doesn't revolve around me and my fetus," was very insensitive! I've had a lot on my mind, you know, with expenses and saving money for this child that I'll be giving birth to in November! Whenever I actually do feel like going out somewhere, it's going to be with my HUSBAND! You're the only one out of all my friends who seem to have your nose out of joint about me being pregnant! It's probably because you've never been, and my other friends all have kids so they get it. I'm starting a freakin’ family soon and all you can think about is your career. I never asked you how your job was going?! How about you asking me how I'm feeling? Or if I had any baby names? Or if you could do anything to help?! My other friends have done that! You, on the other hand, are all about going out to dinner, having a drink (I can't freakin’ drink right now, you dolt), showing up at my place at bad times—IT'S ALL ABOUT YOU! I'm being the bad friend, am I? Nah uh, honey, YOU are the bad friend. —Pregnant and At The End Of My Rope