Short and Sweet...
Edmonton "gangsters"...or im sorry "gangstas" should be fucking shot...

You are slaughtering the english language...and irritating me...you are not "da shyt"

Not to mention the fact that you live in fucking edmonton alberta!
A drive by shooting every three years and one half condemned house does not make it a ghetto.

Thank you...and pull up your pants "gangsters"...you look stupid

So picture yourself: bored, with nothing else to do but randomly look through sites on nexopia, when something catches your eye...a half naked girl posing like pamela anderson..and...suprise suprise!!!! shes only 14...Undeniebly pathetic is it not?

For so many years, women have fought to be viewed as three-dimensional human beings, with opinions and personalities. For so many years, it's been men that needed convincing that we're more than "just fun to look at." But I've finally come to realize that it's our own gender that needs the convincing.

If your one goal in life is admittedly to attract men - sad but acceptable - you're still not doing yourself any favors by dressing like a five dollar hooker. A portion of the population is indeed thrilled when we shake our badonkadonks on the dance floor or "grind up on that pole" but most will agree that the best label for that portion is "immature little boys." They may have the ability to wine and dine us and win us over, but we shouldn't really have any kind of desire to be wooed by them. We should not be impressed with those whose interests in us are peaked by our looks.

Women might insist that they "boast their good looks" because that's how they maintain their confidence, forgetting what any feminist - or man - has to say about it. And if you truly are posing in your underwear because you feel you have nowhere else to turn to up your self-esteem, that's fine. High self-esteem is a goal worth attaining. But you're boasting idiocy in your own way, just as girls who show off for guys might be. We have other assets. Anyone who finds her greatest source of personal assurance to be her body isn't using all available brain cells.

If attention is what we want, there are far better ways of obtaining it than letting our underwear hang out. We're smarter than that. Undeniably, the overwhelming majority of the population enjoys being complimented on their looks - it's natural and probably somehow biologically programmed into our existence. But once we start downright begging for those compliments - which is exactly what we do sometimes - the value of those compliments decreases significantly. We have no reason or right to be appreciative of the interest peaked only by practically throwing ourselves at the rest of the world.

Its time to stop advertising ourselves as objects and then bitching because thats all people (particularly males) think about us.

I find it more and more depressing everyday to see 14 year old girls taking pictures of thier tits and posting them on the internet. Is that really the message you want to convey? Find enough pride and respect for yourself to prove that your more than a body.

I am not a religious person. But unlike most atheists and agnostics, I am not anti-religion. It's just not for me. I am unable to accept things on faith alone, and so far I haven't found any need to.

Some might point out that I can't see gravity, either, and yet I accept its existence. That's true enough. But that's because I am aware of the force that keeps me from flying out into space, and I am not equally aware of the force of God. But even if I were, I would then have to select a religion that appealed to me more than any of the others, and then i would feel discriminatory.

I don't look down my nose at believers. After all, what could be bad if their religion helps them to get through life; to cope with all the inevitable tragedies; to deal with their own mortality; and to find answers to those otherwise unanswerable questions, and therefore i am not here to argue against your beliefs but simply ask that you accept mine like i accept yours.

There's no doubt about it. Valentine's Day sucks. What a bunch of fucking trash it is. Everyone runs around proclaiming their love and pledging their eternal allegiance to one another. It makes me sick. If someone truly cared about you, I think you'd hear it more often than once a year, presented with a heart shaped cardboard box picked up from Shoppers Drug Mart filled with cheap chocolates made with oils and lard and a card picked up for $4.95. This will supposedly cover all wrongs and faults in the relationship, leaving the giver allieved of all sins committed within the past year. Don't get me wrong. I'm not a single young woman bent on giving grief to everyone else who is dating. I'm a realist. I want someone to tell me if I'm loved of their own volition, not because some fabricated greeting card holiday sponsored by Hallmark compels them to do so.

When was the last time you wanted someone to feel they are forcibly handing you a gift? Was it just before or after you put on your "Will Dance For Love" sign? "Nothing says 'Love' like an attractive cash/wrap!" What bullshit is this? Someone made this up, and they were being serious about it.

Getting a gift from your significant other on Valentine's Day almost seems dumb. If it weren't a holy day of obligation for anyone within a 50-mile radius of a fuzzy stuffed heart to run out and purchase it for their beloved, I might view it differently. I mean, everyone loves getting gifts. But it's getting a gift that really, really means something that touches the heart. More often than not, the gift that you get on this day of sick public displays of affection are nothing more than a little something to say you've upheld your end of the bargain and have fulfilled your duties.

Another thing about this ridicuously over-rated day is that people start anticipating it soon after New Year's. Once SuperBowl Sunday has passed, you know that for the next month or so, all you're going to hear about is this day in which Cupid, the fat, miniature angel wearing nothing but a loincloth, has pierced someone's heart with his little arrowof love. I think I'd rather see the little fucker with a shotgun wound to the head.

Every year I glare in contempt and hatred at these ignorant fools who buy into this money-making scheme of unabashed transparent nothingness discretely disguised as a day to show that special loved one just how much you care, while leaving others who are not in the throes of love to feel rejected, unloved, and downright inadequate.

So please spare me the giant pink stuffed animal holding a heart and asking for a hug everytime i squeeze its paw, spare me the ridicuously expensive flowers that will eventually wilt and die making my bedroom look even more pathetic and most definitely spare me the giant "love" engraved card you just happened to pick up off the over-stocked shelves of Hallmark.

“Watch your thoughts, for they become words.
Watch your words, for they become actions.
Watch your actions, for they become habits.
Watch your habits, for they become character.
Watch your character, for it becomes your destiny.”

"Later that day I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting,challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous."