Angry? Mad as hell and you can't take it anymore? Get something off your chest and it could be published online and/or in print. Bitches are anonymous and may be edited for length, grammar, spelling and our lenient standards of propriety.
Monday, June 17, 2019
I couldn’t fathom calling you pathetic. How hurtful would that be? How deeply would it cut? I’ve never been in a place where I wanted to cut you that deeply.
Pathetic, maybe I am. When you roll the word around in your mouth it starts to lose its sharp edge, that same edge it sliced me with, and becomes dull. It’s not the word so much that offends me, it was how it came to be in my mouth, rolling around like it is. You fired it at me.
You know me too well to pretend the word would slide off me. Which is the worst part, you knew that word would unravel me, you wanted it to. You’re aware of the thin tethers that hold me to the world, yet you launched an axe at them just the same.
I know what you tried to do, to hurt me, to ease your hurt by throwing axes at my tethers. It worked beautifully. I was paralyzed by the pain it caused. That was what you wanted though, right? To know I can feel hurt and you can cause it? Well done; mission accomplished; a celebratory drink is in order.
Then, that’s a scary word isn’t it? What happens then, after? You’ve taken your vicious words off leash and let them attack—then what? What did you want? To know we’re both hurt perhaps. You couldn’t have expected to reunite after such an assault. No taking that back. Here’s the thing, you don’t know what happens for me.
You spit your awfulness at me, and I said nothing, I gave nothing. I am a fortress you can no longer penetrate. What you did hurt, deeply, and you will never know of it. Your only success was solidifying my fortress and burning away what remaining doubt I had about leaving you outside. My doubt follows me like a shadow, always present, at times the light makes it small. In the darkness of being alone it consumes me. You scorched it from me. I’ve never been able to do it before. Thank you.
—Fortress
Pathetic, maybe I am. When you roll the word around in your mouth it starts to lose its sharp edge, that same edge it sliced me with, and becomes dull. It’s not the word so much that offends me, it was how it came to be in my mouth, rolling around like it is. You fired it at me.
You know me too well to pretend the word would slide off me. Which is the worst part, you knew that word would unravel me, you wanted it to. You’re aware of the thin tethers that hold me to the world, yet you launched an axe at them just the same.
I know what you tried to do, to hurt me, to ease your hurt by throwing axes at my tethers. It worked beautifully. I was paralyzed by the pain it caused. That was what you wanted though, right? To know I can feel hurt and you can cause it? Well done; mission accomplished; a celebratory drink is in order.
Then, that’s a scary word isn’t it? What happens then, after? You’ve taken your vicious words off leash and let them attack—then what? What did you want? To know we’re both hurt perhaps. You couldn’t have expected to reunite after such an assault. No taking that back. Here’s the thing, you don’t know what happens for me.
You spit your awfulness at me, and I said nothing, I gave nothing. I am a fortress you can no longer penetrate. What you did hurt, deeply, and you will never know of it. Your only success was solidifying my fortress and burning away what remaining doubt I had about leaving you outside. My doubt follows me like a shadow, always present, at times the light makes it small. In the darkness of being alone it consumes me. You scorched it from me. I’ve never been able to do it before. Thank you.
—Fortress
I started writing this long rant debunking every single point that people make about why it’s bad to give money to homeless people, and I just got really fucking sad that I felt it was necessary.
The other day I gave a $10 bill to a guy who panhandles downtown near the ferry terminal. I don’t think he is trying to scam anyone. I’ve been targeted by scammers on the street before, and usually they walk around telling everyone a really long story about a family emergency that they need to buy a bus ticket out of town for. They do not typically sit down with a Tim’s cup and a cardboard sign hoping people will give them some change.
What’s the real reason why you are so uncomfortable with seeing this sort of poverty? Is it because deep down you know that it doesn’t need to exist in a country like Canada? Is it because you know that you’re one bad injury or serious illness away from being housing insecure yourself? The people who are profiting off of the sales of the Tim’s cups that so many homeless people use to collect change have been allowed (for some reason) to hoard more wealth than they and their children and their children’s children will ever be able to spend in their lifetimes. And here we are squabbling amongst ourselves, being shitty to people who do not have homes or enough food to eat. Shame on us.
—Eat the Rich
The other day I gave a $10 bill to a guy who panhandles downtown near the ferry terminal. I don’t think he is trying to scam anyone. I’ve been targeted by scammers on the street before, and usually they walk around telling everyone a really long story about a family emergency that they need to buy a bus ticket out of town for. They do not typically sit down with a Tim’s cup and a cardboard sign hoping people will give them some change.
What’s the real reason why you are so uncomfortable with seeing this sort of poverty? Is it because deep down you know that it doesn’t need to exist in a country like Canada? Is it because you know that you’re one bad injury or serious illness away from being housing insecure yourself? The people who are profiting off of the sales of the Tim’s cups that so many homeless people use to collect change have been allowed (for some reason) to hoard more wealth than they and their children and their children’s children will ever be able to spend in their lifetimes. And here we are squabbling amongst ourselves, being shitty to people who do not have homes or enough food to eat. Shame on us.
—Eat the Rich
Sunday, June 16, 2019
When someone is pointedly ignoring you while slouching home at the end of a hot day, take the hint and move on to the next rube. Whistling at me and shouting "Hey!" like I'm a fucking stray dog isn't going to convince me to buy your bullshit in the best of moods.
—No I'm not interested
—No I'm not interested
If ya'll losers want to get some this spring fling season, get off Tinder and join the land of the living. Bring back chivalry and etiquette, the art of courtship. Carry yourselves with class. If you want to date me, you will need to ask me out on a date 48 hours in advance. So for a Saturday night date, you will need to ask me on or before Thursday. At which time, you should have a plan for said date, ie: dinner and a time in which you will be picking me up or meeting me at the restaurant (depending on how well I know you). Do not call me after 8pm on the evening that you would like to see me, because I won't even answer your call, let alone accept your request.
If by the third date, I have not received flowers, I will be cutting you loose.
You are not to be on your cell phone at all during our dates. Be present, be interesting. Don't talk about yourself the whole time either, you narcissists. Conversations should be give and take. Pay the dinner tab and at the end of the night, don't expect a payoff. You will be getting a peck if you're lucky. If I feel you're worthy of a second date, you better bring your A game. If you get to a third date, and get lucky, take yourself off dating sites and try to seek a commitment. Otherwise, I will assume you are a fuckboy and cut you loose.
—Miss Manners
If by the third date, I have not received flowers, I will be cutting you loose.
You are not to be on your cell phone at all during our dates. Be present, be interesting. Don't talk about yourself the whole time either, you narcissists. Conversations should be give and take. Pay the dinner tab and at the end of the night, don't expect a payoff. You will be getting a peck if you're lucky. If I feel you're worthy of a second date, you better bring your A game. If you get to a third date, and get lucky, take yourself off dating sites and try to seek a commitment. Otherwise, I will assume you are a fuckboy and cut you loose.
—Miss Manners
Friday, June 14, 2019
this guy at my work decided to start smelling my toes from the next cubicle over and i feel like he is trying to lick them now
—creepy steve
So this weekend an absolute psycho who had their dog off-leash in PPP during a marathon caused a runner to trip over it. Said psycho then got in their car, chased the runner, and then assaulted them.
A lot of people will rush to say this kind of behaviour is not indicative of the average dog owner in PPP, but that's bullshit.
As someone who walks/runs in the park often, it's amazing how absolutely inconsiderate and irresponsible most of the dog owners are by allowing their poorly trained pets to impede you constantly. While not much of an issue while walking, for those running and biking in the park it causes a serious health risk to both themselves and the dog.
PPP is for supposed to be for everyone, despite what the hordes of shitty dog owners seem to think.
—TheParkWhisperer
Tuesday, June 4, 2019
Oh cool, oh great. It's been nice outside for five whole minutes so those goddamn Segway tours are running again. A crowd of assholes hogging the sidewalk/pathway/boardwalk because they want to have fun and are, incidentally, incapable of thinking of others or MOVING OVER means I'll stay inside until September.
—share the sidewalk, Segway shitheads!
—share the sidewalk, Segway shitheads!
Monday, June 3, 2019
The price of some damn toiletries these days is insane! I went to the drug store in Dartmouth to find some mouthwash, pit stick and dry shampoo. I could not find a bottle of mouthwash for under eight bucks! We're talking about a bottle of fucking antiseptic shit you spit down the sink. Why??? So I had to go to the dollar store to buy a tiny bottle of the off brand kind for two bucks that literally turns your teeth blue! I bought some of that $4 Advanced Protection deodorant there too, but my pits started hummin' a few hours into my shift! Clinical protection, my ass! Shit don't work! Another waste of money. I'll have to keep sticking lemon wedges under my arms instead to burn out my sweat glands. Dry shampoo is another four bucks plus tax at the dollar store (what happened to a dollar? Everything is four dollars—it should be called the four dollar store) just to spray some carcinogenic powdery shit on my head. I NEED dry shampoo to fluff my hair up so it doesn't look so flat, like the cat been lickin' my damn head all night while I sleep. WTF is with the high prices of toiletries and why are they all such fucking garbage? This is bullshit, man. Can a bitch look cute and smell good and still afford to eat? Apparently not.
—Blue teeth, B.O. and flat hair
—Blue teeth, B.O. and flat hair
Dear woman waiting for the number 3 bus at the Dartmouth Terminal:
What sort of rotting soul do you have to have to cut to the front of the line, blocking a visually impaired woman from entering the bus?
Only the person grabbing her arm prevented that woman from stepping off the curb in front of the bus.
Your face was smiling as you slid into your hard-won seat, your tatted hand holding your protein shake bottle.
You are either oblivious or a shameless narcissist.
I vote for number two.
—The bitch on the bus goes 'round and 'round
What sort of rotting soul do you have to have to cut to the front of the line, blocking a visually impaired woman from entering the bus?
Only the person grabbing her arm prevented that woman from stepping off the curb in front of the bus.
Your face was smiling as you slid into your hard-won seat, your tatted hand holding your protein shake bottle.
You are either oblivious or a shameless narcissist.
I vote for number two.
—The bitch on the bus goes 'round and 'round
Sighhhhh. When does a big auto-dealership baron on peninsular Halifax have enough space for his cars? Not yet—not until his little neighbour, a veterinary clinic that's been on the corner of North and Robie streets for decades, vacates at the end of June. The car dealer's company owns the vet hospital property, and the impending loss of that site is the latest development in the dealer's contentious parking-lot expansion. If city hall truly wants to create and maintain walkable communities, and it does, then bulldozing a place many locals and their furry friends could always access on foot seems to conflict with that planning philosophy. More lot space, more cars, more drivers on the road. This shit's fucked up.
—Pongo McCritter
—Pongo McCritter