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On the morning of June 20, 2012 a young woman in Winnipeg’s St.Vital neighbourhood, a normally safe area of the city, was attacked and stabbed to death on the way to her car.

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Let’s face it—serial killers are total dreamboats. I mean, Anders Behring Breivik? Have you been following his trial? Did you know he is actually 13-feet-tall? Can you imagine that Aryan Thor ravaging your vagina? There’s just something about blood-splattered bad boys that makes me want to tame their animalistic spirit and then mount them like a wild, majestic horse that I am about to have sex with. While I may never find my perfect Patrick Bateman IRL, there are several other swoon-worthy psychos who are, thankfully, too sick to be fictional.

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In one week in Chicago we had five officers in six shootings, two of them deadly. Both victims were discovered to be unarmed and both cases seem to have been covered up by the city. Their names were Ricky Bradley and Rekia Boyd, both killed by the Chicago Police Department with bullets to the head.
Read the rest: Murders in K-Town

In one week in Chicago we had five officers in six shootings, two of them deadly. Both victims were discovered to be unarmed and both cases seem to have been covered up by the city. Their names were Ricky Bradley and Rekia Boyd, both killed by the Chicago Police Department with bullets to the head.

Read the rest: Murders in K-Town

The central bus stop in Ciudad Juárez, Chihuaha sits on a filthy and noisy corner. It’s a spot for idlers and passengers, but most of all, dozens of men serving as drivers, vendors, and traffic controllers who spend most of their time yelling. It was there that I began searching for Lety, a certain bus driver who’s the only woman working at this stop. The route travels some of the most dangerous areas in the city.
After waiting for nearly an hour, I saw her pull up in her bus, its interior bearing red curtains, the Virgin of Guadalupe swaying above her head. She looked real tough in her tight pants and ponytail, maybe even a little scary, ferrying her passengers like a champ. I told her that her work struck me as very heroic. She laughed at me and said, “Well, get in then. You want to learn about me or what? We have a long way to go.”
Read the rest: Driving a Bus in Ciudad Juarez Is Dangerous Business

The central bus stop in Ciudad Juárez, Chihuaha sits on a filthy and noisy corner. It’s a spot for idlers and passengers, but most of all, dozens of men serving as drivers, vendors, and traffic controllers who spend most of their time yelling. It was there that I began searching for Lety, a certain bus driver who’s the only woman working at this stop. The route travels some of the most dangerous areas in the city.

After waiting for nearly an hour, I saw her pull up in her bus, its interior bearing red curtains, the Virgin of Guadalupe swaying above her head. She looked real tough in her tight pants and ponytail, maybe even a little scary, ferrying her passengers like a champ. I told her that her work struck me as very heroic. She laughed at me and said, “Well, get in then. You want to learn about me or what? We have a long way to go.”

Read the rest: Driving a Bus in Ciudad Juarez Is Dangerous Business