Dear Blabby

blabby 

Dear Blabby:
I’m one of those millions suffering from depression and people just don’t realize how difficult it is to get up and face another day of feeding the kids and getting them to school and having to think about feeding them again all day while doing endless routine chores. I have no friends and my husband just doesn’t understand me. There are no services no support help available here from the public services. What can I do?
Down in Windsore

Dear Down in Windsore:
Moan, moan, piss and moan. No wonder you have no fucking friends, you sound like a wet sock dipped in dog shit. I suggest you take up a hobby like sewing for example. Then you can get down on your goddam knees and run your lips through the machine so we don’t have to hear it. Fuck off and die you ignorant bitch.
Blabby

Dear Blabby:
I’ve spent countless hours, millions of dollars and evey ounce of my energy trying to convince everyone how rich we’ll all be once the LNG terminals open. But no matter what, I just can’t make it happen! What should I do now?
Chrissy

Dear Chrissy:
   How’s about shut up your mouth? You already spewed more gas than will ever ship from Kitimat so go onto something else already. No one gonna spend billions when they can’t get shit for the product and you pretty much already gave away the whole store with concessions as it is. Everybody knows this so they’re just laughing at you anyway!
Blabby

Dear Blabby: