Dear water glass flipper at local restaurant: Why must you do this. The first time we ate there, we thought you would just do it once. But you did it every. single. time. People in the city talk about how we often don't want to eat at your establishment in case you are there, flipping our water glasses and expecting praise. You do not get praise for doing this. Everyone wants you to stop. Our laughter is that of embarrassed awkwardness, not encouragement. —Bird-flipper to the flipper

The brassiere, or bra as it is known today, was invented by a man named Otto Titzling ("tit sling") who lost a lawsuit with Phillip de Brassiere. Both were masochists, I decided. Of all the inventions available today, technologies that have been modernized and improved... Why is the bra still the same old hellish contraption? You mean to tell me nobody can't fix its design? The only adjustments over the years have been to remove the (much-needed) straps to fit under strapless dresses or to make the cups less pointed. That's it. All visual benefits (for men). None functional to improve comfort for the wearer (women). How about smoothing out those sharp fucking underwires that poke through after three wearings and stabs you in the fucking tit? You mean to tell me you can put a fucking man on the moon, invent phones that can record movies, eyeglasses that can connect to the internet, but nobody can put a sponge tip on the end of those fucking underwires? Or put some tape around the end, SOMETHING before stitching it inside the bra? No ... They gotta be sharp as fuck. Seriously, the bra market SUCKS and women need to either settle for one low boob by wearing a sports bra, or it's a half-cup cutesy bra that ends up cutting your tits in two creating 4 tits (the udder effect) How many stab wound to the tits/arm pit area must we encounter? Digging at it all day at work to adjust the sharp metal, eventually going to the bathroom, disgusted and hauling the whole wire out and throwing it in the trash, kissing away the 40 bucks you spent then going back to work with lopsided tits. Those half-cups that are so sexy and appealing to the men (like Victor 's Secret), but who are we kidding? With the active lifestyles women lead these days, the tits just fall right out. They're not functional. The skinny straps are sharp too like daggers cutting into my shoulders, or you can have those ugly wide industrial straps like those granny flesh-tone jobbies. I have had to go through life with tits looking like they've been propped up on a shelf, torpedo tits pointing in two different directions, flattened tits, log tits (from bras that mould both mounds into a long horizontal log) but you can never get a bra that gives you decent shapage and acceptable comfort. Now I have lovely permanent bruising from years of wearing these torture contraptions. I've fucking had it. I get it now. I know what those women in the 70's were thinkin' lightin em on fire! Let the muthafuckas burn. Fuck men and their preferences. I don't care that you like to see too globs of fat smushed together and hauled up so high till their right under my neck. I don't care if they bounce or offend or if my headlights get turned on through my shirt. I can't take it no more! Studies have shown that bras actually reduce elasticity in the breast tissue. It works the same was as a corset...eventually your core muscles get wasted away and you can't do without it. Well, wearing a bra all the time actually causes your tits to sag. So whatchu waitin for? Join the movement. Burn the bras 2015! —Momma Juggs

While I thoroughly love reading the daily bitch session the coast provides us freeloaders with daily(maybe this should be a love the way we love post?) I always end up thinking....maybe, just maybe if the people posting these bitches actually took the time to express their anger,frustration,disappointment etc in an honest way to the the people who have perceivably wronged them, instead of posting passive aggressive letters that maybe, just maybe they can find resolution through human contact and dialogue —love the bitch, bitch through love

Dear horking men: you might think that you are in a private place when you're in the bathroom, but if you make a sound that can echo across an atrium, you are not. Everyone is basically in there with you as you hork your heart out. It makes others want to die/vomit. We know it's you -- as you're the one who comes out of the bathroom ten seconds later. Do not let anyone tell you this is okay. —Disgusted at Dal

I'm not sure if you read this paper or will ever see this comment published. However I need you to know that I am in love with a Halifax man. We met in New York City where I was born and still live, we have known each other for almost 7 years. We have had an off and on again friendship for some time now. I just wanted that handsome man to know that I will love him forever. We may never be together forever I don't think that was ever your plan. If ever you need me I'm here for you. I will forever love you. —Brookyn girl

Okay, I understand you people and your holidays, a little time off to chill and be with your family but "Good" Friday? I was there, it wasn't all that good. I mean when I arrived in Jerusalem on Sunday things going pretty well. Rode in on my donkey, people waving palm leaves ,cheering us on. This was Passover, time to rock the Romans. Sure there were those clowns and their flea market in the temple but generally things were going pretty well. Big plans were in the making but then I get ratted out. Judas, I was always said that guy had a big mouth but, NO, let's keep him an apostle. Lousy kisser too. Then the denials, Peter completes the hat trick on that one.Which brings me to TGIF, not. How would you mofos like to get 39 lashes then have a rose bush crammed on your head? Then, on the day of the crucifixion, I have to carry my own God-damned cross. You know how much they weigh? Even more with a bad back. Sure I had a bit of help with the cross but still. Then the final indignity, being a carpenter by trade, and being put to death by nails and timber. Sheesh! That Friday, it weren't good and certainly no holiday. —Jesus H.

What is up with these people while dropping off or picking their kids to and from school or on Friday afternoon that they think they can park , double park and park where ever they please , St. Alban is a tiny street and when buses are trying to bring the buses to the depot can't turn the corner or anyone else trying to get onto the street or exit CAN'T , but most of all where are these Parking Enforcement people ????? —Pissed

I am so sick and tired of the overall abuse and lack of support that teachers receive in this province - especially after the winter that we have had. It is not the teachers' fault that we have had so many storms, but they are the ones who suffer by having their marking day taken away from them. Everyone seems to have forgotten, but close to a decade ago, ten extra days were built into the school year to make up for missed time in the classroom, which is why school starts as early as can be in September, winter break is shorter than it used to be, and school ends as close to June 30th as possible. Have we exceeded those ten extra days this year? No, we have not. So there is no need to hit the panic button just yet. What many people do not seem to understand is that teachers only get paid for being at school twenty minutes before the first bell, and twenty minutes after the last bell. Marking is not usually feasible during those times because it is used for morning duty, lesson planning, or extra help. During the school day, it is naturally expected that class time be dedicated to the students themselves, so most teachers end up marking everything on their own time. So before you stop and criticize teachers, think about what our school system would look like if teachers only worked what they are paid to do: that would mean saying goodbye to teams, clubs, committees, dances, proms, trips, and absolutely anything extracurricular. —Annoyed

I can deal with the frozen ice world of Halifax. In fact, I'm kind of over talking about it - some of these sunny afternoons, walking in the street in lieu of snowbanked sidewalks has given us a strange comedic solidarity with one another. But this is a different kind of bitterness: in January, my winter jacket (brand new for Christmas) was stolen from a local hostel/bar during a dance party. In the pockets, only the essential things for winter but not needed on the dance floor: hand-knit mittens, my favourite scarf, cards that cost me nearly $150 to replace, my third phone this year (the others being stolen or lost), twenty bucks and some other small, worthless things that were precious to me. And also my identification. I can't seem to let this theft go. I feel like I've been invaded. Okay, take the phone and the cash from my pockets. Even the pretty Rhodochrosite that I've been hoping to find abandoned on the North End streets ever since. Take my mittens if you're cold. But I'm a broke artist - don't leave a person in the cold without a coat. I'm grateful to some kind strangers who drove me home in that -20 degree night, and the friend who found me a donated jacket to get me through the winter. I just wish the selfish person who left a big, ugly stain on an otherwise incredible night would do the right thing and return them. —Nightcall Bittercold

Thanks so much to the powers for this dime or is it a dime when you take the tax out and the tax out when I spend it plus round the pennies down sounds more like a nickel a hr raise Now it's easy to see with the math skills of these powers why are house is in such a mess A SPECIAL THANKS TO YOU STEVEN FOR YET AGAIN MAKING US LOOK LIKE HILLBILLIES BY LETTING THIS PASS OR IS THIS A APRIL FOOLS JOKE PLEASE NEXT TIME FLIP US A QUARTER OR WE WILL FLIP YOU THE BIRD AT THE POLLS —Thank god posts are free