PEEVED AT POTNIKS
I feel like I’m a forgiving apartment dweller. I know things get louder when hockey playoffs come around. I don’t throw a fit when the folks upstairs vacuum at 11 p.m., although I hope they know they’re monsters. But I can’t get over just how much fucking weed you smoke. Jesus! It comes in through the hallway and through my bathroom ventilation all day and night. Take it down a notch, or you’ll turn this legalization supporter into a narc. Or at least close your hallway door while you’re doing it. /Anonymous
AND YOU NEVER OFFER TO SHARE Queen City Confidential is an extremely widely-read open forum for Prairie Dog readers to anonymously publish their stories and feelings: we suggest true tales of failed romance and exasperating interpersonal situations, rants about trivial pet peeves and petty injustices, constructive criticism for pot-smoking neighbours, or even anonymous gratitude for something nice someone did. In a pinch, we’ll even print your secret messages to friends. E-mail [email protected] (type CONFIDENTIAL in the subject field). Change all the names and identifying details. Submissions must be 100-200 words long and will be edited, though hopefully not much.
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