Archives |
RSS
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.
Submit a Bitch
Posted
on Fri, Dec 21, 2012 at 4:42 PM
OK, I realize my moving away was a bombshell, and I get it. You have regrets and don't want me to leave. Yes it's very far away, but it's a great job. I've never been there, and I'm going for some adventure, a change of scenery. It's not my fault that you never told me how you feel, and it doesn't make things easier that you are trying to guilt me into staying. It just makes me not want to see you. For the record, just because you left for certain reasons before, does not mean that I am the same person as you. I'm not leaving because I can't stand myself or other people. I'm leaving because I was presented with an opportunity that not a lot of people get, I'm single with no kids... Why not experience life before I meet my prince charming and am not able to anymore?
Oh and for the record, you trying to kiss me just made me angry, especially when I told you to stop and you insisted on it. —Leaving on a Jet Plane
Posted
on Fri, Dec 21, 2012 at 3:21 PM
To the kids who came into two nice girls' apartment with one of their friends (which this girl was a friend of ours and we trusted) for a few hours, I have to say, congratulations! You make me want to take double the pill's prescription to make sure I don't end up with kids that are pricks like you. You are like what 18? 19? You live in a refuge, talk like you lived it all, you know it all, you get kicked out because you come back late, do drugs and drink your face off. Enough that you can't stand anymore, that you had to puke all over the stairs of my apartment. You couldn't stop looking at my boobs when I was talking to you until I showed you the finger on where you were looking at, you kept going outside for walk to "smoke," swearing every three words and you thought you were cool! When I was your age I was drinking responsibly, running, not doing drugs, working, studying, camping, a leader in scouts, participating in a sports team and buying nice things because I wouldn't drug all my money. I was doing what is called "living your youth." If you think drinking your underage asses off and mixing drugs is awesome, I feel so so sorry for you, even more for your parents and I really wish you don't have kids. Like, please don't event think about it, it might be the only good you can do to humanity. You were so disgusting. —Bless the Hangover You Must Still Have (Four Days After)
Posted
on Fri, Dec 21, 2012 at 2:21 PM
All cab drivers just got a nice increase in their rates before Christmas. Damn they are lucky! I had to take a cab to get to work because I was injured and couldn't walk. I was surprised by the almost $4 jump in what it cost me the last few times. Normally it would cost me, at the most $11 to take a cab to work. That day it was over $14! I told the cabbie I wasn't impressed and he said it's because of the 13 percent increase rate in their fees. You have no idea how that got me mad. I told him. This is not a 13 percent rate increase, it's 30 percent or more! He knew after that that I wasn't going to be fooled more. He was still expecting a tip. As if. Some of the drivers already take their own tips from us by giving back the wrong amount and not saying anything. The one reason I stopped paying cash. My salary has not moved in over four years! Worse is that the guy kept complaining after! Dude, I gave you what takes me more than an hour of work to earn. Thanks for the business, but I'll bus/walk from now on. You had no respect for what was given to you that almost half of the province population had been expecting for years. —Growing Bills
Posted
on Fri, Dec 21, 2012 at 1:23 PM
Ninety-nine percent of it is just shit TV. Mostly scripted and/or boring. Cheap to produce but it's just damn ridiculous. Bring on some escapism. —Want a Show with a Plot
Posted
on Fri, Dec 21, 2012 at 12:41 PM
I can't begin to imagine how the people of Newton feel. I can't begin to imagine how the parents, friends, relatives, fellow community members, of those massacred in Newton feel. I believe the passion that they will now speak against guns with, will serve as a very useful counterpoint to the richest most potent gun lobby in the world.
It will be a shame if this is what it takes to get a common-sense balance between the individual rights of citizens to defend themselves and their family/house/city/state/country—and the individual rights of citizens to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
I know one thing for sure, the rights of 26 citizens to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness have been taken away in the most vile, violent way possible.
Some Americans want access to the same guns their government has access to. This, to many, is the spirit of the 2nd amendment. Some others say they need those guns to prevent tyranny from their own government—the same kind of tyranny that saw them found their own nation separate and distinct from the tyranny of England.
Unfortunately, the tyranny they suffer now is from within; the result of hundreds of years of a fractured, imperfect union. Slavery, civil rights, war, income disparity—all of these things have affected the American mindset, as a whole.
They are looking for reasons why their country is orders of magnitude more violent than any other nation on Earth—and there is no one answer, and no easy way solution, to get to the bottom of it. Time will tell whether an assault weapons ban will solve some of the issues they have with violence.
I do admire the second amendment and the constitution however, for what it's original intended purpose was, and for how revolutionary it was at the time to give citizens the kind of power Americans still enjoy. These days, governments all over the world are looking for ways to minimize the power of the citizenry. —Dartmouthy
Posted
on Fri, Dec 21, 2012 at 11:03 AM
OK so, someone's gotta mention this so I'm gonna. HALIFAX RADIO STATIONS SUCK BALLS. You all play the same fucking five songs all fucking day. You talk about the same celebs all fucking day. Who gives a flyin fuck about Lindsay Lohan? Who cares who Taylor Swift is dating? Who cares about Rhianna and Chris Brown? Who cares what Justin Bieber had for supper last night? Like WTF. Get a real fucking job. You all sound like a bunch of losers on those radio stations acting like you know these celebs personally. Get a life seriously. The other day I hit two radio stations and they were both playing the same song. OMFG, what a joke. What we really need is a hip-hop station but even that would be a flop cause all you'd play is Kanye, Pitbull and their shit music. —Thank God for CDs and the MP3 Option in My Car
Posted
on Fri, Dec 21, 2012 at 10:02 AM
I'll start by saying I love the bitch column, and totally get a lot of them. I get why it's good to be able to gripe about that guy who cut you off, or who's driving actually can put us all at risk. Or that ignorant server in the green dress, working Friday night downtown...yada yada. It feels good to unload, I get it. But what I notice as a real trend, is how many bitches are directed at someone specific, and personal. This is actually a very fucked up scenario, when really thought about. Do these "bitchers" actually think of this as somehow communicating with these people? Are we so far off the garden path in our inability to communicate, that this is somehow seen as "doing something"? You REALLY think they will read this and know it's you the bitcher speaking to them. And that is OK?
Instead of hiding behind some anonymous bitch in a local column, why not stop acting like a bunch of wimps. Grow some balls (metaphorically for the ladies) and try actually communicating. Because if you're patting yourselves on the back for getting something personal off your chest this way, holy fuck, are you stupid! —Bitcher Bitchen'
Posted
on Fri, Dec 21, 2012 at 9:23 AM
No, it wasn't enough to roll your eyes and slop around at a snail's pace as you made my OJ, you didn't speak a word to me or my friend, didn't say thank you and basically scowled the whole time. When we finally rang up our order, you gave us the nastiest look your pig-face could manage.
Here is what you STILL don't seem to get. Remember back in high school when they said to you "look if you don't work a little harder, you're going to wind up slinging food for the rest of your life"? And you didn't listen to them because you already knew everything? Well now here you are reaping the benefits of a piss-poor attitude about your future. Don't take being a loser out on your customers.
Oh sure... maybe you're a university student making a bit of extra cash on the side. Who am I to assume? But I doubt it, given your lazy, sluggish approach to the most basic tasks and the nasty-ass look of someone that is reeling from the hard slap of reality but not ready to accept her responsibility in it.
Regardless, I will NOT be buying shit from that place anymore. And neither will any of my friends until you are FIRED.
And BTW, I found one of your washed-out-purple hairs in my drink. Not only do I have to put up with your nasty attitude, but now I have your DNA to contend with too.
Seriously managers, I hope you're reading this. You know who this is. Your new year's resolutions need to include firing this useless, mooching slug. —The Person Who DID Give a Shit in High School
Posted
on Thu, Dec 20, 2012 at 2:23 PM
Sitting on the couch all day (doing work as a matter of fact), next to the front window which is next to the front door. Doorbell works. Doorbell never rings. Nobody knocks. But apparently at 5:30pm somebody tried oh so fucking hard to deliver a parcel. Yep, even wrote a note to prove it, you lying SON OF A BITCH.
(Upside: somebody told me this happens elsewhere, not just Halifax, even though it never happened to me until I moved here.) —4th Time This Year
Posted
on Thu, Dec 20, 2012 at 1:51 PM
Just love it how you get black out drunk almost every time you drink and lose your phone regularly... —How Old are We?