This indignant note nearly made Mike [sic] with laughter when he saw it posted in the lobby of his apartment building in Surrey, B.C.

(Oh, those Canadians — so hilarious! Even when they’re not trying to be!)

related: A note from Dirty Lady #2

“As far as I know,” says Meagan in Ohio, “my boss, an early-40s white lady named Sandee, is a native English speaker.” I made sure to double-check with Meaghan on this, because, well — just read the thing.

As Meagan points out, her boss “does not seem to understand that the pet peeve is the thing you shouldn’t do…or that ‘peteve’ is not a thing…or really, anything. How could you hit ‘print’ on this?”

Except to underline the fact that Meagan’s place of employment is a winery — one where open bottles of wine seem have to have a tendency to be strewn about willy-nilly — I must say I have no idea.

related: My pet peeve

I don’t really want to know what “cigarette ashes” is supposed to mean in this context…

…but hey, look what I found on the Internets!

related: Your “Brown Friends”

Edie in Bellevue, Washington wasn’t too happy with the neighbor’s cat using her lawn as its personal toilet, so she finally asked the cat’s owner if she’d please clean it up. “She did,” Edie says, “but only after explaining that the cat poops on everyone’s lawn and no one else minds.” (After asking around the neighborhood, Edie found this to be only half-true.)

Little did they know that cat’s crap was practically worth its weight in friggin’ GOLD!!! One can only imagine the reactions of Edie and her similarly ungrateful neighbors when they finished reading the photocopied letter taped to their front doors. (First place? For three years running?? What fools we’ve all been!!!)

related: Don’t feed the cat (or the trolls)

extra credit: The Radiolab episode about Toxoplasma and crazy cat ladies

When Sal spotted this notice at an athletic clothing store in San Diego, he says that while he couldn’t quite picture how a tissue would get the job done in this situation — not to mention how this policy came to be —  “I figured it was best not to ask questions.”

Meanwhile, when I first read this sign — from a club in Vancouver — my first thought was, “Well, that seems like a reasonable enough request.” Our submitter, Cherisse, begs to differ. “Sadly, there is no bathroom backstage,” she explains, ” wnd when a girl’s gotta go, sometimes the other end of the club is a long ways a way.” She adds: “If it wasn’t for the used paper towels being left outside, no one ever would have known.”

So… like Sal, I’m gonna say it’s probably best not to ask too many questions about this one.

related: “Who leaves their panties in the bathroom at work?  Who does that?”

I think this has got to be my new favorite (unintentional) twist on the old “your mother doesn’t work here” trope. So congratulations, overbearing office manager! The three hours of company time you spent searching for just the right clip art — not to mention your charmingly cavalier disregard for spell-check — did not go unappreciated!

P.S. I promise, from now on,  I will be sure to always clean and scrub the delicious Italian rice balls so graciously provided by the Phantom Mammas infiltrating our kitchen.

related: Yo momma doesn’t work here (or here, or here, or here)