…and then it turns out Ang’s friend is like, Heidi Klum, and she’s with standing there with her big growling bodyguard, and the Misogyny Factory boys are all like, “Ruh-roh! If only we’d been drinking that shitty beer that makes us act all ‘smooth!’” Or something.

Adds our submitter from East Lansing, Michigan: “I don’t know where Ang’s friend parked originally, but because there was rope attached to the car’s bumper, it looks like ‘The Factory’ moved it.”

related: Why don’t you go park your car in Harvard Yard?

Hey, here’s some advice! If you’re looking to improve your relationships with your roommates, communicating through the erasable whiteboard might not be the most effective way to go.

(Above, from a sorority house in L.A.; below, from a shared apartment in Chicago.)

related: Facebook, another poor medium for mediating roommate disputes

Jane in Boston says this note appeared on Tomio’s bedroom door, at cat’s-eye level. “Given that I’m pretty sure cats can’t read, it’s the ultimate passive-aggressive sentiment,” Jane says, “but a cat shitting on your bed is pretty passive aggressive, too. What a tangled web we weave.”

Meanwhile, a submitter in Cornwall, England spotted this note (again, at pet’s-eye level) on the front door of a house. “It was unclear what the dog had done, how the notewriter expected the dog to read this, or how ‘Diane’ was filming the dog,” our submitter says. “There was no sign of a camera.”

And yet, it’s this commandment —posted by a neighbor of Marissa in San Francisco — that tickles me the most.

UPDATE: A bonus note (via Anthonio in Seattle), from…Dirt.

related: Excuse me, sir? I think you’ve dropped something.

No, not the World Cup — we’re talkin’ good ol’ American college football. After all, as the homepage of the The Huntsville (Alabama) Times will tell you, kickoff is only a short 68 days away!

If you live in a town like Huntsville, Alabama, it’s beyond the scope of most folks’ imaginations that one simply wouldn’t care about something as earth-shatteringly important as football. As our submitter, a reporter at The Huntsville Times, explains, “We’re one hell of a football nation here — you either root for the University of Alabama Crimson Tide or Auburn University.”

So, our submitter concludes, “I’m guessing this letter comes from an Auburn fan.”

UPDATE: Another postcard-to-the-editor from the Huntsville Times’ number #1 reader!

related: A day in the life of a crank

extra credit: “The Death of Print Journalism”

“I mean, it sucks about your black eye and all, but HELLO — do you see these dark circles under MY eyes?”

This site has seen its share of tasteless notes, but…really? The mind boggles.

related: Don’t die; it’s expensive.

extra credit: When domestic violence erupts, what should a neighbor do? [AP]

Mark from Liverpool spotted this sign in the window of a vintage clothing store in the center of Rome. Please, someone go take a dump in their fitting room.

Meanwhile, as Tyler and his pals discovered, this vintage store in Madison, Wisconsin is apparently only obnoxious to its actual customers. “The changing rooms were covered in notes,” Tyler says, “and the old woman behind the counter had a continuous look of disdain on her face. It took us a while to realize that was just the way she rested her face.”

Rather than, say, passing judgment on the sizes of their potentially TOO LARGE waists.

related: Yo, sweaty beasts!

What does “fashion forward” mean to you?

If the writer of this public service announcement had Angela‘s gall, she would have printed up flyers and handed them out to offenders in person. Instead, she (and yes, I’m making the outrageous assumption here that it’s a she) just posted it in the elevator of her Columbia University dorm…without spell-checking her work first. People, seriously?

Unless, of course, this was all part of a larger prank pairing the phone number of some unsuspecting victim with this oh-so-compelling pitch (“learn how this will improve your LIFE + GRADES”) and placing it within easy firing range of drunk college students. Then, well…then you’d be an even bigger arsehole.

related: A little advice for the ladies

“So, this note was left in my mailbox (along with those of our other neighbors, I assume) back in March,” says our submitter in Connecticut. Although this one starts with out with seems like run-of-the-mill suburban blahblahblah, the second paragraph throws out a hell of a curveball.

“To be honest, I’m surprised the notewriter hasn’t taken to the street with a megaphone, demanding that the cowards who called the Health Department show themselves,” our submitter says. No such luck, however. ”My wife and I are dying to know who the snitch was,” he says, “but we’ve been left hanging!”

He adds: “I’ve considered mailing the writer an anonymous note stating that, strictly speaking, leaving notes in our mailboxes without paying postage is a violation of federal law. You know,  just to throw some fuel on the fire.” (I’d say submitting the note to this note is probably good enough.)

related: Thanks for your concern, but you have no idea what you’re talking about.