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funny (if not necessarily "passive-aggressive") notes from pissed-off people
Abbey Road Studios is a must-see on almost any Beatles aficionado’s tour of London. Once there, a curious sort of tourist delirium seems to take hold. People feel absolutely compelled to recreate the iconic album cover, in the same way that visitors to Pisa just have to get a shot of of themselves holding up the leaning tower.
The only hitch? That famous zebra crossing actually goes across a fully functioning road — one with cars and buses holding people who, one would assume, have better things to do than watch you fiddle with your zoom lens.
Rachel in London was therefore more a little amused to see this note from a fellow local amongst the assorted “I <3 Paul” and “I am the Walrus”-type scrawls that cover the walls near the crossing. ”I love the drawing, as it’s so true,” Rachel says. “It’s just a crossing people!!! It’s not like the Beatles are coming back to see you do this!”
Interestingly, while the Beatles themselves aren’t likely to be watching, thanks to the existence of the (strangely hypnotic) 24-hour Abbey Road webcam, you can actually watch this idiocy as it happens — over and over and over again.
“This is part of an exchange that took place between parents of kids involved in a summer theater program,” our submitter explains. “My 10-year-old daughter was also part of the summer production, and I shared the e-mails with her as a shining example of what the term ‘passive-aggressive’ means.”
(Just click on the images to enlarge, or mouse over to read the transcriptions.)
When it comes to comment cards and suggestion boxes, it’s not necessarily hard to get the last word. But as Maggie noticed while leaving a dining hall at the University of Denver, it takes a skilled passive-aggressive to turn a totally neutral, boilerplate response into an obvious “up yours” without so much as an exclamation point.
First off, hat tip to the cranky guerilla artist who plastered the bus stops at Rachel’s college campus yesterday with these posters.
(Of course, like the good citizen and PAN-ista that she is, Rachel promptly snapped and sent this pic to us using her BlackBerry.)
But speaking of art on campus…how’s that for a segue? — I can’t look at this piece from Matt’s dorm in Reno without hearing it as a Daft Punk song. (That’s probably thanks to far too much time spent playing around with iDaft…time which I do not regret one bit.)
Okay everyone, let’s get this riot started. Go text this post to all your friends!
When my younger brother Danny was around 6 or 7, I remember he brought home a project he’d done in school — a little book entitled “My Family,” or something like that. I don’t recall what he said about the rest of us, but on the page about our mother, he had written: “MOM BRINGS DINNER,” complete with a stick-figure drawing of her with McDonald’s bags in both hands. We all laughed about it, but I think my mother was still pretty mortified — and god only knows what his teacher thought.
Well, Mom, allow me to introduce you to Carmen: you two might be able to commiserate. When her son (who is, coincidentally, also named Daniel) was 6, his first grade teacher had the kids write little journal entries about their weekends every Monday. This was Daniel’s. (The teacher’s feedback is my favorite part.)
Carmen is quick to add that she was most definitely not “drunk” — in fact, on this particular occasion, she hadn’t had a single alcoholic beverage. But just try explaining that to the school guidance counselor…
"They are gateway trees. First my little brother started out with just a tiny Douglas Fir. All the other kids were growing them: he didn't see any harm in it. 20 years later he's been in and out of rehab more times than I can count. He says he's clean, but he still reeks of Christmas and it's destroying our entire family!"