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.
Think about your mom/sister/daughter/people in your life, and how disappointed they are going to be when they find out about your creepy and perverted life of crime. Oh it will happen, and its going to happen soon.
I also wanted to send love to the store staff and HRM police. The way you all responded was pretty impressive. Thanks.
—Pervert-aware thrifty shopper
I knew as soon as I saw you sitting there when I left you wouldn't leave me alone, so I avoided eye contact. Yet you yell again asking if I now have spare change.
Now you would think this would be a one time occurrence, seeing as I have never run across you in the area before. Nope, unfortunately, a few weeks later on my way home from work at 10:30 pm I stopped at the gas station for something and what I thought was just a drunk from the bar next door flagging my car down turned out to be you again! You ran up to my car before I got out the door, and you very aggressively asked if I had spare change.
How dare you run up to me (a female) in the middle of a dark parking lot. I am fully capable of defending myself, and you're lucky you didn't get cut. I suggest you think of a new way to hassle people for their hard-earned money.
I work and go to school and can't just throw money to people who harass me. Don't get me wrong though, if your technique was different maybe I would have gave you my change. Take hints from the gentleman who sits outside a local liquor store: He sits out of the way of the entryway, he only smiles when you make eye contact, while he sits with his cup. When I splurge and treat myself to a few cold ones, I will offer my extra change to him, he says thank you and have a great day. No harassing manners, a pleasure to deal with, unlike you.
—Why won't you go away!!!
You live down the hall and call me to help you out when you're on a "hard drive" and need help...but at work, you treat me like shit, bully me make me cry and mock me whilst doing so. You are the worst person I have ever known. Don't expect me to do fuck all for you anymore so don't fucking text me, don't knock on my door you evil imp.
I'm telling your girlfriend all about you and how you harass me for BJs. You're 50 years old, just a waiter at a greasy dive because you have burned your bridges elsewhere and NO ONE would hire you except another sleaze like yourself... you are not special. You're not even attractive anymore. The years of drugs and booze show on your face. When I quit that job I just might spit in your twisted, ugly little face. Fuck you, la la. —Pit Bitch