Jessica from Halifax was perusing the comment board of a small restaurant on Salt Spring Island, B.C. when she  spotted this tasty tale of shellfish-related woe.

Meanwhile, Charlie found this scary story (and the impressively deadpan response) pinned to the comment board at the River Street Whole Foods in Cambridge, Mass.

related: The EGG SALAD BAN

So, these two crazy kids (both of whom still live with their parents, according to our submitter), had a lil’ accident. A really exciting one! So exciting they decided the best way to share the news was en masse, via Facebook status update! So be excited for them, dammit!!!

related: Children are such a blessing.

Thanks for not buying me the Diaper Genie I registered for!!!

Anybody else in the mood for a no-holds-barred, batshit-crazy tirade? ’Cause I sure am! Pretty much the only thing remotely “passive” about this message — which Jared in Seattle found taped to the front entrance of his share house  — is the fact that it was delivered by note, rather than say, by fist.

The note writer takes a little while here to build up steam, but manages to get in at least one solidly below-the-belt jab before spiraling into a CAPS LOCK-induced rage blackout.

related: Worst secret admirer ever?

Our submitter, P, is a sophomore at a certain university in upstate New York (the one that typically ties with Penn for the Ivy League university most people forget is actually in the Ivy League).

Students are moving out of the dorms this week, P says, so facilities management locked the building’s garbage chute to prevent it from overflowing. “Instead, residents are supposed to take the trash to a dumpster that’s a couple of feet away from the building — we even have an elevator!”

But what if your sense of entitlement is like, too heavy to make it to that elevator? Hello, note war!

related: At Oberlin, that $48,000 a year doesn’t include toilet paper.

extra credit: What not to wear in Ithaca [Ivygate]

Emily says her parents in Massachusetts recently dug out this note from the family archives, written when Emily was six. (She’s now a high school English teacher.)

“None of us have any recollection of the circumstances surrounding it,” Emily says, “but my mother must have done something pretty awful to warrant such a melodramatic note, my six-year-old rage boiling just below the surface.”

Adds Emily: “Given my use of the word ‘steepping,’ I also apparently confused my parents with bags of tea.”

related: My Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Parents

“I found this posted on every vertical object within a block radius around Adam’s Point in Oakland,” says submitter JasonP. (I particularly enjoy point #4 of the response.)

Meanwhile, a set of neighbors in Vancouver, B.C. were tussling over a similar case of mistaken identity.

related: I’m not creepy, in fact…I’m quite gay.

extra credit: “But he was dressed like a ‘gang person,’ you guys!”

So, KC in Washington, D.C. has a blog, which her mother reads and finds “somewhat amusing, to an extent.” Not everything KC writes meets with Mom’s approval, however.

“She never lectures me,” KC says. “Instead, she post-it notes her grievances and puts them in places I have no other choice but to look at” — a Kix cereal box, for example. (Which I have to admit, I find pretty goddamn adorable.)

related: Sometimes, Mom is (actually, maybe, a little bit) right.

Thank you, Mom, for really trying to not say cuss words around me.

Every day, you watch them, in horror: Those vile, germ-laden, nether-region-wiping creatures who don’t wash their hands after using the toilet. Confronting the offenders directly wouldn’t work, because, well, you’re passive-aggressive, and that’s just not how you roll. So what to do next?

Well, you could dazzle them with some accusatory statistics…

…or attempt to appeal to the altruists in the audience.

And maybe try to lure in the sports fans with the promise of some fun trivia!

If they see through that little scheme, you could try patronizing your patrons outright…

…or just straight-up treat them like four-year-olds. (“Did you wash your hands?” “Yes.” “DID YOU WASH YOUR HANDS?” “I said yes!!!”)

Perhaps even a dash of reverse psychology?

Of course, those less-straightforward techniques just might just backfire on you.  In that case, you could play the bully with THE CLIP ART THAT MUST BE STOPPED.

Or, if your clip-art collection is a bit larger…release the dragon!

Not scary enough? Maybe it’s time to bust out the F word.

Or the even scarier F-word: FECAL-ORAL.

And if that still doesn’t work? Well, I guess you’ll just have to flounce away, invest in some latex gloves, and vow to hold it ’til you get home.

(Thanks to Jen in Houston, Jenni in Spokane, Marley in Pittsburgh, Lindsey in Memphis, Laura in Richmond, and the many anonymous submitters for their contributions.)

related: Five approaches to toilet paper maintenance

extra credit:  “On Washing Hands,” by Atul Gawande

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