Please understand the difference between a "tip" jar and a "take a penny" jar. If you see a dish on a counter clearly labelled "Tips" this does not mean you can reach your hand in and take whatever you want if you are short on cash to pay for your purchase. Chances are, since I'm a very nice gal, that if you're short on change, I will offer to help you out by using our tip money. But please do not, without politely asking first, just reach in and take money that is not yours. Us folks in the food service industry work very long hours for very little money... our tips make it a little less sucky. (And I'm not saying you have to tip us... just please don't take the tips someone else has already given us!) —On Behalf of the Food Service Industry

I was bicycling home from the liquor store last night. Sober. Not one drink. When a lady in a small car passed me and cut in front of me to turn. But instead of turning, she put her extreme braking skills to the test. I ended up hitting her back bumper and smashing into her rear window. The bottle of red wine that was tucked into my jacket broke leaving red wine everywhere and slivers of glass in my tummy. When the driver saw the wine, she freaked out thinking it was blood. When she realized it was only wine, she laughed. You bitch, I am still sore and banged up, and all I can think of is: you bitch! —Pain Killers Not Working

Dear Deity,
Please make the killing stop---on the streets, in people's homes, in Syria and everywhere else... Please stop the raping of our planet, abuse of all kinds, bullying and people just hurting people for the fun of it. Please stop people from hurting animals and innocents...the elderly, children, the disabled, the poor... Please stop people from hating and hurting others because of their sexuality, their beliefs (or non-belief), the colour of their skin and the creed of their kin. Please stop greed and let all be equal. I know you may or may not exist...if you do, please intervene. WE NEED HELP. —Prayin' to the Aliens

To the lady who was driving the Prius on Quinpool, stuffing her face full of pizza and driving with her knees---you are the epitome of a green-washed consumer idiot. I was on my bike, in the right lane. I had to make a left turn so I signaled and took the lane change but because you weren't paying attention and driving with your knees, you almost hit me. Luckily I realized you were fucking eating pizza and staring into space (you have to assume drivers aren't paying attention to shit in this city) and swerved out of the way. You had no idea any of this was going on. I know your Prius makes you feel like you are helping the environment, and it has a nice green leaf on the back to let people know what a nice consumer you are, but maybe paying attention to the road where bikers (who let out no emissions at all) are riding. PS: Your hybrid is still shitty for the environment. Go ride a fucking bike. —Ragewashed Biker

My cat is missing and roaming around without her collar. I did what I could, put posters up, distributed flyers, talked to my neighbours. So when my phone rang at 10:30 at night this Wednesday, I thought someone had found her sneaking into their house and I was hopeful when I picked up the phone that I would see my cat again. Instead, someone pretending to be an old lady asked me to describe my cat, told me she had caught a cat in a rabbit snare and was wondering if other people had lost their cats, and if I knew a way to contact them so she could ask whether she could eat their dead cat.

I guess you thought it was funny, because I heard laughter in the background when I asked who was calling. You had made sure to hide your number so I couldn't trace you back. Congratulations, you managed to wake up and shake up a grown-up in the middle of the night, and make her cry. It was cruel, cowardly and uncalled for. Now that you had your fun, please have the decency never to do it again. –Not Laughing

You are not little Ms. Perfect, I don't care how many guys you string along. You are attractive, it's true. BUT your crappy personality really ruins it. When I hear your voice a little piece of me dies. And secretly, when you are doing your cutesy-patootsy routine with my friends, I imagine you sitting on the can having a really loud, unpleasant shit. And then I giggle. —Poop Face

So you are in recovery. That's great. But do not presume that because you are partway through your 12 steps that you have the right to judge others (addicts or not). You are the addict, you sold drugs, you stole, you've been to jail, you court the drama and when you don't get your way you cry, lie and manipulate. Don't condescend to others when they struggle with their challenges. You have a long road to travel yourself. —Tired of the Crap

The truth is, I wish you never moved to Nova Scotia. You are not a nice person. PS: Remember how you keep telling me nothing is your fault? Well, it is. Time to be an adult. —Someone's Daughter

I keep hearing about a mill every morning on the radio, how much money they plan to waste on its resurrection once again and I'm sick of hearing about it. Ever wonder why guys who have worked there for 30 years and are making $50, $60, upwards of $100,000 a year suddenly have to sell their trucks, boats, four-wheelers and houses immediately after it closes its doors? Greed, and sadly it doesn't stop there. I used to live in Cape Breton and I also worked at the mill so I have witnessed firsthand the kind of damage the workers themselves do to the place they work and then have the nerve to cry about it when the business goes under. Anyone who is interested in buying the mill would puke in their fucking suits if they took a tour of even a handful of some of these guys' homes and sheds because they are absolutely outfitted with paint, tools, electrical equipment, anything and everything a person can get their hands on that they've lifted from the mill. You may not think it's a lot but take a lunch can full of stolen gear out of the gate everyday for 25 years then times that by 90 percent of the people who work there and trust me, it adds up! Hell, a local salvage owner even got charged a few years back for trying to smuggle out very expensive stainless fittings with the scrap he was taking on his truck! They're taking the food right out of their own mouths by doing this but this and everyone else will have to pay the price. If they want to save $100,000,000 a year they just have to hire one person that's not related to half the people working there and have them actually check every bag, every lunch can, every truck that goes in and out of the gate and do it every single day. —The Pipe Layer

I used to love visiting Halifax, I would save up my lunch money for months just to make a trip up when I was in high school and didn't have a job. I made friends so easily up here, and the atmosphere was fantastic. Several years later I finally made it up here and my friends I made years ago have moved away, the atmosphere has changed and the people all stare but never speak. It's frustrating that I spent so long trying to get here, but it doesn't make me happy like the weekend visits used to. I've been here for months and have yet to really make any friends whom I see regularly, when in one weekend as a teenager I'd make several. I wish I knew what changed exactly so I could fix it, but yet I'll never know. Halifax I used to know please come back. Or perhaps it's me who has changed, and am longing for the old me. Either way, I wish things were as I expected. —Work, Sleep, Work, Sleep, Work