Tom took notice of this “open letter” — a thoughtful missive that clearly merits our collective attention — on a telephone pole in San Francisco.

If we’re really lucky, perhaps this Richard Asshat character will grace us with an open response in the comments, whiteblizzard70-style!

(Note: For your further enrichment, here’s a less faded graphic of the bristol stool scale.)

related: when ph.d.s get angry
extra credit: mcsweeney’s open letters

Because it’s Monday and you’re so thrilled to be back at work, I thought it was as appropriate a time as any to bring you these gems from the Columbia, Kentucky and Melbourne, Australia campuses, respectively, of the University of What The Fuck.

(And commenters, please note the enormous exercise of restraint demonstrated by the lack of “anal-retentive” punning in this post’s subject line.)

related: If you needed an excuse to skip the gym today

extra credit: Waste management [youtube]

Our anonymous submitter in California is not the resident of Apartment 105, but she knew exactly who this note was intended for. “The dude in 105 lets his dog out, deposit her gifts on the sidewalk, and then run back. Dude stands and watches her, perfectly at his ease,” she says. “This has been going on for as long as I’ve lived here, so I guess someone finally got fed up.”

Adds our submitter: “This is not the first time I’ve seen a note like this. The shameless are immune to passive-aggression.”

related: passive-allergic

I didn’t think i’d ever see a kitchen appliance more inappropriately anthropomorphized than this fridge, but I think this dishwasher note (from an anonymous submitter in England) dials the WTF-factor up to 11.

related: The passive-aggressive note has not been destroyed; it has been solved

An anonymous submitter in Portland, Maine is currently chafing under one of the most common irritants of communal living: a roommate “who has never once bought toilet paper.”

She and her other roommate tried some of the more subtle manuevers in the passive-aggressive playbook — up to and including the ol’ hide-and-carry — to no avail. (“When we run out, he uses our paper towels instead,” she says.) That is, until her roommate, who’d “had enough of plunging his shit,” decided to up the ante with this note.

related: oh, she said it

Well, our anonymous contributor in Pompano Beach, Florida has one for you.

He explains: “I keep a gym membership so that I can feel good about my financial commitment to my health — not so much for the actual health benefits per se. I hadn’t been to the gym in at least two months when I came across this note posted by the showers. (My shower at home was being worked on.) I’m glad I make it a habit to wear sandals in the shower during my quarterly visits.”

related: The Mad Bomber

Based on the online/canine aging scale (one dog year = one youtube day) this video is pretty much on its last legs, but I love it just the same. Consider this post a mercy shot of euthanasia. (And thanks to Maximilian, Jen, Chris, Willa, Nattie, Cat and Dave for passing along!)

related: Oh, shit!

Amanda spotted this on the door of the post office in Milford, Pennsylvania. (Confidential to the fecal matter general: Dude, I know recycling can be a hassle sometimes, but this seems like a little much.)

Perhaps the Brooklynites who issued this poetical preemptive warning knew what they were doing all along…

related: this is why your server is cranky