Linda spotted this little work of artistic genius at Louie’s Cafe in Santa Fe, New Mexico:

related: Please do not flush…anything.

At Nat’s office in York, England, one of his coworkers has been trying to bully everyone into coughing up some cash for an (admittedly worthy) charitable cause.

In Nat’s opinion, however, her guilt-heavy fund-raising techniques might benefit from a little fine-tuning…especially given that all seven of those special “charity pens” were nicked from the office supply closet.

related: Starve on!

In one of my clearest memories of first grade, I distinctly remember my teacher telling us, on the first day of school, that the bathroom in the back of the classroom was only for emergencies. For non-emergencies, we’d have to wait until lunchtime. In my six-year-old mind, however, “emergency” meant only one thing: “throwing up.”  And so, when I had to go, I held it. And held it. Until…well, I wasn’t holding it anymore.

That’s right: It actually took wetting my pants for me to learn that the word “emergency” means very different things to different people — a concept some people apparently still haven’t figured out.

It’s unclear, for example, what might constitute a “citrus emergency” at this Pleasanton, California optometrist’s office. (Perhaps a masochistic mandarin peeling itself?)

You might think people would be a little more precise in their language on a military base. At Arizona’s Fort Huachuca, you’d only be about half right.

At Gustavo’s new office building in Seattle, it only took about a week — and about a bazillion false alarms— before someone decided a little clarification was necessary. (Sorta sounds like something you’d expect from a classroom of first-graders, no?)

Meanwhile, Andrew in Cirencester, England only noticed this sign after pushing open one of his office’s alarmed fire doors (triggering a sudden and unforeseen occurrence — i.e., ear-shattering noise).

related: Gee, thanks for the clarification

These notes — the first from on office in California, the second from an office in Arkansas — both seem like they’re following the same not-quite-finished flowchart for acceptable office paper usage.

Really, you’re in for a scolding no matter what. And as our submitter Hannah noticed — in this bizarre exchange from the copy room at a school in Spartanburg, South Carolina — contrition only seems to further incense the office Paper Nazis.

related: Nothing fosters community like shared networked printers!