…courtesy of the hapless young lads of North America.

As documented by Kimberlee in Lawrence, Kansas:

And by Grant in Toronto, Canada:

Happy breakup season, everyone!

related: Some dating advice

If you’ve ever bought Twizzlers from a vending machine, you probably know that there’s a good one-in-three chance that one tiny corner of the plastic packaging is gonna get stuck — and bang on the glass all you want — only yielding after an extra 75 cents is inserted. Some folks, however, aren’t willing to condone that kind of stubbornness in their packaged sweets.

related: Who’s the smartass?

…well, you know how it goes.

Meanwhile, in Melbourne…

And in London…

…a saucy variation on a much-photographed placard from London’s Soho:

But my favorite sign was spotted by Nick at a backpacker’s hostel in Rio:

related: The whore of West Babylon

Given the highly intellectual discussions this site’s commenters have become known for, it seems safe to assume that the question, “How are we to judge poetry?”  is one that you, dear reader, have no doubt pondered on many an occasion, along with other more academic concerns such as the proper resting state of the toilet lid.

Well, as the late Philip Larkin once said, “I think a poet should be judged by what he does with his subjects, not by what his subjects are.” With that in mind, which of these poets would you judge “less likely to make you totally vom”?

Is it this one, from a university campus in Toronto?

…or is it this one, spotted by Kacey at the YMCA in the college town of Champaign, Illinois?

related:  A limerick

extra credit: The Poet of Dirty Words: Reconsidering Philip Larkin [slate.com]

Is posting a “polite” sign for the neighbors passive-aggressive? “Perhaps,” says the Washington Post.

Perhaps this Portland resident could learn a lesson in politeness from our famously good-natured neighbors to the north? Or, um, maybe not.

(Photos from Guy in toronto, via jerrold!)

related: Boston, a place for friends

After a minor breakout, Matt in Toronto “borrowed” his roommate’s Clinique cleanser…and then forgot to put it back where he found it. His (admirably direct) roommate asked if he’d mind not using her Clinique products again in the future, seeing as it was, you know, pretty expensive and not that big of a container. “No problem,” Matt said. Crisis averted!

That is, until last week, when Matt ran out of his own face wash. Instead, he used his roommate’s (again) and then forgot to put it back where he found it (again). The next day, when Matt went to use her cleanser again (after forgetting to stop at the store to buy his own) he found this little Clinique bonus.

Matt’s mea culpa, such as it is: “I shouldn’t have been using her products in the first place, especially after she asked me the first time. I’ll just make sure I never run out of anything ever again!”

related: Is nothing sacred?

I think what fascinates me most about this e-mail, from the head of the party planning committee — excuse me, “fun fund” — at an office in Toronto, is the subject line. Not only does the writer ignore the obvious “let them eat cake,” she vetoes the direct approach (“hey, fatty”) in favor of the utterly nonsensical “for your records.”

(click to enlarge!)

related: If you can afford $10 worth of flair…

Long-simmering roommate issues comes to a head in Toronto…

(Green ink is being kicked out by black ink.)

related: I can’t stand this shit anymore.