“When my downstairs neighbour first moved in, I thought we would be friends,” says our submitter in Montreal. “We go to the same school, we’re around the same age, and we both love pets. (I have a cat and a dog, she has four cats.)” And yes, she says, “Every day — after 10 a.m., before 8 p.m. — I vacuum my house. She can have fun with all her cat-hair dust bunnies — I’ll stick to my cleaning schedule, thanks!”

Like our submitter in Montreal, I’ll admit that, as the owner of a dog who sheds quite a bit, I also vacuum pretty much every day. So if that makes me a “FILTHY DIRTBAG,” I guess I prefer that to becoming like “Dirty Lady #2.”

related: I’m dirty and I love it

Marcel in Montreal begins his story with the moral: “There are just some things you don’t mess with — vipers, rabid dogs, king cobras, black widows…and my mom.” His younger self, however, was far less wise. This is his tale.

For a long time, Marcel and his siblings had the irritating habit of drinking all the milk in the house late at night so that there was none left when their mother went to pour herself a bowl of cereal for breakfast the morning.

One day, Marcel and his siblings came home from school to find a batch of “the richest, most delicious brownies ever” sitting on the counter. Of course, they dug in immediately. But just as he was about to head to the fridge to pour himself a cold, tall glass of milk to wash down all that chocolate-y goodness, Marcel noticed this note from Mom hiding underneath the crumbs.

“Sacre bleu!” he cried, for sure enough, there was not a drop of milk to be found in the house. Leaving a trail of brownie crumbs behind him, he ran as fast as he could to the nearest dairy farm, where, shortly before hitting send on this submission, he was eaten by a very hungry wolf.

“Both Marcel and the brownies,” the wolf wrote, “were fucking delicious.”

related: The Boy Who Forgot to Clear His Browser History

“I was walking by a local café and this two-page, handwritten rant stopped me in my tracks,” says our submitter in Montreal. “I was so disturbed I went home and returned immediately with my camera, just in case the owner suddenly got sane (or had some sense talked into him) and decided to take it down. This is someone who should clearly not be dealing with the public.”

related: The Sushi Nazi

Daniel is Montreal says his dear grandmother sent him this card in the mail for his birthday. The front of the card (which didn’t scan very well) says: It is not what is visible on the surface but what is deep inside that sustains us.

Well, says Daniel, “that and guilt.”

related: Dear Grandma — thanks, I guess; How I “did” my grandma

Zakir in Montreal came home one night to find his roommate, Tristan ferociously scribbling this note for his other roommate, Vincent.  Apparently, Tristan was baking cookies on Saturday night (aww) and when he turned on the stove, the entire apartment filled with smoke from the charred cardboard from Vince’s frozen pizza.

Says Zakir: “Vincent’s reply to the note was gold. He yelled: ‘Well, maybe next time you should CHECK the oven before you turn it on….WHAT IF THERE WAS A BABY IN THERE?!’ and then slammed his door behind him.”

Adds Zakir: “I’m not sure if those are hearts or flames all over the note, but I do know Tristan‘s face was scrunched with anger as he wrote it.”

Meanwhile, in Clemson, S.C…there is a baby in that oven.

related: must have been a pretty big bite

Frequent troublemaker Team Cassandra sends us a dispatch from her trip to old Montreal. The charmant hostel she stayed in had 32 hostelers, two bathrooms, one kitchen, lots of awkward signage, and an overall vibe of, “I’ve said this 10, 000 times and I’m not saying it again.”