“My co-worker had a ‘meet our bundle of joy’ party in a common space of his apartment building,” says our anonymous submitter in New York City, and these notes were peppered throughout the space. ”Not only did I opt out of ‘touching’ their baby, I also passed on digging into the bowl of Ruffles.”

Meanwhile, as Carson in Atlanta points out, someone else has channeled that parental germaphobia into a bona fide business!

related: this is all about the childern

extra credit: “Maybe You Touched Your Genitals” Liquid Soap

Our anonymous submitter in Tel Aviv spotted this note outside the kitchenette of a client’s office. In case your Hebrew is a little rusty, she also provided an English translation:

In this kitchen, please feel free to] pour drinks, cut up food, warm things through, stir and mix food, chop food up into ridiculously small pieces, taste whatever you like and eat until you are well satisfied and utterly sated. BUT [the Hebrew slang originating from the Arabic equivalent of "for fuck's sake,"] do it quietly!

Adds our submitter: “Presumably, noise is a problem — I was just tickled by how much I was permitted to do, as long as I kept my mouth shut.”

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the Middle East, the U.S. Armed forces aren’t quite so “anything goes.” Except, apparently, when it comes to shitting in the shower.

related: Why is it that on this night we’re, like, allowed to eat carbs?

Editor’s note: Eric has been trying to get me to post this note for almost a year now, and I’m usually all, “but it’s not, you know, real!” and he’s all, “but it’s real(ly) funny!” (A point I had to concede). And so, in honor of April 1 (a.k.a. Ninja Note Day on PAN) I’m offering this note amnesty. —Kerry

Writes our anonymous submitter from Dayton, Ohio: “Sent by what appears to be a group of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle aficionados*, this letter was received last year after the somewhat eccentric and always-crazy editor of a small toy magazine erroneously described one of the characters as an ‘evil enemy rat.’”

*We had our crack research staff (read: Google) look into the authors’ identities, and the results were shocking: the letter was written by then-interns at The Onion, and sent from the publication’s New York offices.

related: On jamming

This note is so goddamn beautiful that if I just saw this floating around on Digg or something, I’d probably assume it was fake. And yet, Marta in Vancouver swears it’s for real.

She explains: “The guy who lives in one of the basement suites in our house left this on our front door after we stomped on the floor when he was blasting “Hotel California” at 11 p.m.” Oh, and just so you get a clear picture in your head, Marta says: “This is a guy who hangs out in the backyard with a katana wearing full-on samurai robes.”

Adds Marta: “Never have any of the people in the basement complained about us ‘running down the stairs.’ In fact, they’ve all told us they can never hear us.  Sorry for walking, guy, we’ll try to levitate from now on.”

related: Oxford drama