C'mon people, let's tone up the intellectual content of this section. It's degenerated into "You stinky-bum, you," and "Your Auntie eats rubber boots," level of name calling. Let's start a new topic of high calibre and deep philosophical import. (Ahem) my Mensa-level bitch... I absolutely HATE my cereal milk turning purple when I add blueberries to my crunchies. I mean, what's with that? If we can put a man on the moon, and Harper in office, surely we can make blueberries that don't leak all their damn blueness all over my milk. I know this is a subject that affects all quality humans. —Good Dog Molly

There was a time when I didn't believe in hell but I am sure now with every fibre of my being, that it exists and that I am right here in it. Basking in the midst of the molten fucking lava as we speak; shovelling coals into the fire pit; the devil Satan himself I'm sure, chuckling from his cushy air conditioned lakefront home.

My rent just increased $125 more per month because our new genius of a landlord decided to replace all the windows in the building to newer crank out style ones. Only our air conditioners don't fit in these new windows. The old ones were fine and fully functional and yet, this was the reasoning for the rental spike. My neighbours and I have been sweating like a bunch of pigs on roasting spits all fucking summer, temperatures soaring over a hundred degrees daily. When I open my apartment door, it is like an oven and it slaps you right in the face. My poor cat lies on the rug on a tiny slice of shade belly-up and comatose. There are no balconies in this horrendous shit hole-in-the-wall either. If you don't want to pass out, you must get a cold shower every five minutes on the dot and pour ice chips down your throat constantly.

I hate you new landlords, I hate your motherfucking guts! You charge each of us tenants over a grand more per year to live in this HELL HOLE, are you fucking serious? You want more fucking money? How about ripping up the puke green and brown '70s zebra carpeting? It's like your worst nightmare or a really bad acid trip and has withstood decades of dust mites, flea and bed bug infestations. How about patching up the holes in the walls, the mold in the tubs or securing the back door so it actually locks, and HEY if you're feeling super-dee-duper generous you could always get some appliances dated this century. But OH NO you don't give a rat's ass about anything except the building's outer aesthetics simply to draw in new tenants and trick them into your overpriced torture chamber. I hope you go bankrupt someday and are forced to live in your very own building so that you can BURN IN HELL like the rest of us! —Hotter Than The Hinges of Hades

Now don't get me wrong, I am completely for equal right for all. Including, men, women, trans, staight, gay, bi, black, white, purple. You get my drift. But I am a little confused on what "equal rights" means. It should be common sense. Yet how it is equal rights for a gay man to be allowed to walk naked in a parade? If a straight man walked naked in a parade he would be arrested for indecent exposure. THAT is not equal rights. That is reverse discrimination. Learn the difference. —Tired of Equal Rights Being Taken Advantage Of

Stripper poles now in your neighbourhood bar. My friend came to visit me, we went downtown for a meal and a drink. There was a stripper pole to the right of us with an overweight broad rubbing her vagina all over the pole. She had a black thong on and we could see everything. I was with my male friend, we were eating a meal. This made us SICK. If we were at a strip bar then that could have been expected. On TV on the evening news there was clip about a parade downtown. There were many children watching the parade. There was a float in the parade with a female dancing up and down on a STRIPPER POLE. There were children watching this. I do not know where the morals are in this world. This younger crowd wathcing a woman dancing up and down the stripper pole with her legs wide open sliding up and down this pole. What next, a stripper pole in the mall. A stripper pole in the grocery store. This world has completely gotten out of control. This is for sure a sign of the end days. —Morally Wrong

To the person(s) who decided to report to one our fine Halifax Police force that I was smoking weed. Here's the facts for you, I am a long term survivor of HIV/AIDS, over 20 years now. In the last five years I have developed a severe neurological disease in my brain. I live in excruciating pain every day, and use medicinal marijuana for relief of that pain. Thank goodness that the officer was a smart and sensible man, as I offered to show him my documents from the government to prove I could legally use marijuana for medication. He said no need just keep it away from the crowd. So you see whatever your motivation for trying to have me arrested was for naught. I hope someone rains on your next special day. —Angry Gay Leather Man

To all the assholes who think it is beyond necessary to yell hateful slurs out their car windows as they drive by, to throw shit, to make animal noises or to be otherwise pitiful excuses for human beings because you had half a beer and feel like big men: It is not necessary. You aren't big men. You aren't cool. You're a bunch of annoying little brats wanking each other off in little fucking metal boxes going 40km an hour.

At this point, I can't name everything that has been yelled. I've had beer bottles tossed (from moving vehicles), but nine times out of ten the phrase that's yelled is faggot. At this point, I can assume that on any night that I work the backshift, I will have "faggot" yelled at me at some point while I walk to work or to McDonalds on my break. Once on every walk. Even tonight, with all the rainbow cheer about the city, standing on the corner of Robie Street and Quinpool Road, what goes whizzing by? "Faaaaggot! Oot oot oot!" Like to see if you have the balls to do that 8 hours earlier in daylight. So fuck you douchebags and fuck your $700 cars and $2 drunk. I'd be proud to be a faggot, especially because it's clearly something that scares the fuck out of all of you. This faggot doesn't need four guys and a metal box to flip you off and call your shit out as you speed away. —Apparently a Shark

My roommate walked back from the Mosque during Ramadan prayers with his friend and were subjected to drunken taunts, racist slurs and people being genuine assholes. I thought on the night of the Pride Parade people in this city would actually be a little more accepting, but put alcohol in someone's hands and the truth really does come out. Get over your racist bullshit, Halifax, and grow the fuck up, or you will never be respected as a city. My roommate's idea of Canada grows darker and more apathetic by the day. I can only imagine how people overseas see us now. Thanks for being a shining example of the racism you pretend is only a problem down south. Fucking hypocrites. —Sorely Disappointed with My New City

To the driver of the #1 who looked me in the eye and passed right by me when I was standing by the bus stop on Gottingen Street: What the fuck? Why didn't you pick me up? Fuck you. —T Nut

Just moved to Halifax, barely met roommates before moving in. Ended up moving in with a control freak who dictated where even my groceries went in the house. Stole or broke my kitchenware. Wanted to lock up my dog in my room, whilst his/her 3-4 dogs ran loose and barked (dogs present constantly changing since he/she fostered dogs but had to give them back because they were not trainable---this coming from a supposed dog trainer. Really, it was just her original dog that would attack them---and listening to their cries was unbearable. The dogs the roommate had were just mere possessions so he/she could feel in control. Then saying that I couldn't use the kitchen table, chairs or shower since they were apparently belonging to him/her. I finally said "Fuck this, you're crazy, getting outta here." You said I didn't respect you and I told you that you didn't know what respect was. You called the cops and said I stole your laptop on the day I was moving out, which was really shitty of you since that didn't happen, but thankfully they could see what you were up to. So glad to be moved out of there and away from the crazy dog house. No wonder your partner dumped you---go drown your sorrows in more alcohol and country music---at least now I won't have to suffer through that. I hope the two new puppies you got don't pay the price of your careless ways. Beware of your new roommates folks. Living with randoms, never fun. —Free

This drives me nuts. Nova Scotia spends millions promoting our Ocean Playground... even including great shots of surfing. Yet Friday night (before 6pm) I'm out at Lawrencetown Beach, a provincial park, with 200 other surfers, and the Beach change rooms, and bathrooms are LOCKED/CLOSED. What the @$#%? And again this year as soon as September comes the beach house will be shut down as END OF SEASON...when everyone knows September and October (heck into November) are great beach/surfing times. One more: Why must we watch endless TV spots promoting Nova Scotia? What a great place to visit. We're here...we love it. Why is NS Tourism spending tons of money running these ads here? —D.E.B.