You should have known. You should have known you loved her before you involved me. —You were never kind

You always were a self serving, judgmental and immature bitch. You treated me like shit but you played the part of the victim so well that I still felt the need to want to help you only to find out that you are a gold star contributing member to your own manipulative and dysfunctional relationships. That you purposely seek them out so that you can fulfill your own deranged needs for attention. Watch out friends! I can attest to the fact that she talks shit about each and every one of you and apparently its not beneath her to get with your ex love. In fact, she's into it. Back to you: You're not the only one participating in the relationship but you sure are the only one manipulating and using him for his money. Pathetic. I wonder how quickly you'll drop him when the well dries up, the trips stop and the debt collector letters start arriving. At least I can take great satisfaction in knowing that that mouth your kissing has been ALL up in my pussy and that genetics has already fated that you're gonna blow up like a blimp just like your mother. —Karma might get me for that last bit but you fucking deserve it.

I've been hellbent on seeing what's been going wrong and conspiracies that didn't exist to see the good in people everything and my life. —See the light

Slow down your drinking. It's not okay to puke on a person who's just trying to see the show. You ruined the show for me. I hope you're happy. —You owe me a new forever 21 cardigan.

To others do this, or is this one more activity I do alone? I pray for death. Maybe it will be a random shot or attack in the night. Maybe it will come in the form of being hit by a car. An aneurism would be just fine too. I won't commit suicide. I am a coward, praying to the Gods that don't exist to free me. —Still breathing

I know you don't love me, hell none of you even like me, I also know the only reason any of you still speak to me is for sex.Well I'm telling you all the cow has officially been put into the barn..So I suspect this is goodbye, you sick sons of bitches...Because a woman enjoys sex doesn't mean she wants to be used , lied to by a man she thought she cared about then passed around from one friend to another... I suspected what was happening but naively (stupidly) told myself you cared....Then you turned into someone different and I couldn't continue to lie to myself about what was really happening. I'm a fucking fool no more. —Find a new cow. I'm done

As my companion said as we traipsed home, "I've been Halifaxed one too many times now". What the fuck happened to this year's Nocturne? We, with a sea of others herded from Bishop's landing to Pier 21 in search of art. What did we all find? A lame ass Pong thing which didn't work, nothing, more nothing, then some real art in a gallery we can go to anytime, then a sad, sad huge rocking horse with ooooooh a synched clop clop sound and some fucking rope lights, then a place to omg Draw With Markers On Paper. Oh and let's not forget the "interactive" pottery where we had the great privilege of filling out a ballot to win a piece of last year's participants' pieces; tiny pottery blobs created by 6 year olds, the likes of which I toss out on a weekly basis. Thank you. And here's a big beef: If a (albeit artistically sound) performance piece is full of massive aggression and extreme profanity, put up a fucking warning for parents before they pile into the theatre with their toddlers to be subjected to a performer yelling "Balls, Dicks, Fuckers" and "I Hate You!" repeatedly at your infant who then wails, terrified. This year's Nocturne was woefully organized and a classic example of Shit Plus One. If all the art around you is shit, all you need to do to stand out is do One better, and that's just not good enough. Next year, let more and real artists do their thing, otherwise call it Open Gallery night. It used to be the best night of the year. —I Miss the Real Noturne

Ugghhh... I am so SICK of this whole "babies having babies" syndrome. Seriously, girls, we are supposed to be the most progressive country in the world, but you make Bristol Plain and Jamie Lynn Spears look like "Mom of the Year". You can't even raise yourselves, how the hell are you going to raise a kid(sssss) on your own? Did you learn ANYTHING in Sex-Ed before you dropped out? And of course, Daddy is NO WHERE in sight (five will get you ten he's got a tattoo across his throat). Get some birth control... Get your GED... Get a clue... Get your shit together. —Jer-REE! Jer-REE! Jer-REE!

They must be because apparently none of the fucking laws apply to them.  All you bicyclists who pass traffic on the inside, dart in and out of your lanes and just generally act like assholes, you all suck. If you want cars to respect you, show some fucking respect for the rules of the road. —How about a nice game of chess?

Whether it be due to economic hardship, social-disease or poor personal-development, the constant inability to enjoy a cigarette downtown without being asked by usually up to three people is the most annoying circumstance imaginable. You quite literally have to sneak away to a secluded area to avoid the unpleasantness of another “No, I'm sorry I don't,” situation. It's insane. —The Zen Smoker