You cut me off in your Range Rover that you could barely keep in one lane. You were a under 22 year old SMU foriegn student... I wish I had let you hit me. I hate those uncontrolable reflexes that automatically avoid douchbag collisions like the one you almost caused this morning.

Anyone have any suggestions on how to override this automatic defensive driving response? I'm sick of being cut off, ran off the road, having to slam on the brakes becuase you run lights/stop signs. I just want you to hit me so I can get the money from your insurance company. FUCK. —from SMU

Hey, drunk waitress. yeah, you. Are you so boring that you can't do anything else but drink and party? It's your night off, and you're at the fuckin bar? Your shift is over and you're at the fuckin bar? You're so desperate you need to sit your drunk ass and get attention from all the drunk creeps you call friends at the fuckin bar?? You're a classic case of desperation. Ever notice how most people move on?

Yeah yeah, others do it too - some more than you. But you're 30 something. Stop pretending and do something with your talents before you turn 40 and blame everyone else for your problems.

Denial - it might be sweet now, but turns sour over time.

Life is amazing. MAKE IT SO.

—Starship life

Your precious little turd at the tournament was a little shit head, he spent the past three games slashing and crosschecking... you spent the past three games laughing at his douche bag antics..... my kid was hurt by his crap so before the last game I told him if your little shit tries anything with him to cross check him in the mouth.... and if he doesn't learn his lesson, do it again.... and as anticipated the little turd starts a sword fight with my boy and consider that a lesson that needed to be learned.... in typical bully fashion he didn't take to someone standing up for themselves very well... and neither did your fat ass when you started with my wife. the best part of it all was when the other parents agreed with us and you stormed off... May Herpes rot your genitals and those of your douche bag kid —Hockey Dad

So sick of the patriarchy slut shaming my gender-neutral, sex positive attitude. —Queen Elizabeth II

You are the most selfish individual I have ever had the misfortune to encounter. You say you've changed but your actions belie your words. I am tired of the continued bullshit so the next time you ask for anything, don't be surprised when all you get from me is silence. —Not surprised

If you put something on the site to SELL and someone shows interest in said item wouldn't the best plan of action be to, I don't know, be available when you say you're going to be? I understand that people work/have lives etc but if you say you're available for pick up at such and such a time then shouldn't you just do that? Especially when said item is large enough that a truck is needed to take it away? Or at least let the buyer know your availability has changed! I had to borrow a truck and monopolize someone else's time not once but TWICE now. —Common courtesy not so common

To whomever stole my incredibly plain boots from downtown's fanciest new workout hub, you are actively a horrible person. I'm angry out of principle, but also because I have big feet and it's really hard to find footwear that fits. You suck. Enjoy the persistent athlete's foot. —Please Just Return the Boots!

Last evening was the first, and hopefully, last time, I'll have to watch the NS Tourism video. f you believe half the dross that's in it, you'd believe we lived in Shangri-La and not North Korea Central with a Greek economy.

They should show run down filthy Halifax, and then flash the headline "Come to NS, there's nothing to see" with a * and a clause stating, "please do not feed the inmates". —Mr. Bean

It was neither the time nor the place to remind you of yours.

You found me, pushed once, spread gratitude's thighs.
Verse softened fingers pulled words from my womb
stretching umbilicals, yanked at the end.
I laboured, for it's pain (and you smiled) cuts the fat from the bone.
No bloody gushes, I'd battened insides past dilations.
One (oh so poetically) stroke of the beard,
midwifery guises aside,
now lover and mentor no conflict apparent,
knees straddled my neck with eyes on my eyes.

Your mirror, my mirror I offered my mouth.
The morsels you pushed past my teeth
were up for adoption to infertile heirs.

Annealed in suttee rends you grease, slipped away.
I tempered to carbon a catalyst core,
surrounding hisssssssssssssssssounds
ripping loose with the tearing of unknitted bones
I am flesh, blood and cartilage, not plasticine dreams.

Now is the time.
And my place to remind you
let go of the lost.

—LP

Nothing to do here but drink. —Fuck this, I'm outta here