This delightful note comes to us from the wilds of suburban Orange County, California. “There is a door at my school (a private college) that is constantly propped open,” explains Amy, a grad student. “Up until yesterday, the note on the door said, ‘Please close door.’ I have NO idea about the microwave burning, or what the note writer has against skateboarders.”

Adds Amy: “How does one burn a microwave, anyway? Maybe they put one microwave inside of another microwave?”

Keith spotted this note in the employee break room of a clothing store outside of Hartford, Conn.

The kicker? According to the employees, says Keith, “After the note was posted, the guy spitefully mixed the selection buttons up even worse.”

(Altogether now: “that Gatorade is…”)

related: fucking delicious

When our saga begins, our anonymous submitter’s girlfriend was living in a tiny apartment in Sydney, Australia. Due to space constraints, she was temporarily sleeping on what our submitter admits was “possibly one of the world’s shittiest sofabeds.”

But while the mailbox notes were presumably written first (based on the tone) they weren’t actually discovered until after a third note was slipped under the apartment door…

Mortified, our loving couple did, in fact, move their mattress to the floor. But that didn’t seem to placate their dear nameless neighb, who pinned this note to the the building’s common noticeboard…

“Ironically,” our submitter says, “it was found when we were moving out the horrible couch.”

related: visual aids always help

Writes an anonymous submitter in New York City: “So, my mom bought me this doormat that says ‘leave.’ You know, haha, funny joke, like the ones that say ‘go away.’ Well, apparently my neighbor didn’t find it too humorous.”

Adds our submitter: “Some back story: the woman has lived in the apartment across the hall for 40 years and collects cats and garbage, according to the super.”

related: Really, enough with the weather

No, you can’t  — at least not near the copy machine at Erin’s office in Indianapolis.

Meanwhile, Alvaro’s office in Madrid is having licking issues of its own near the office coffee machine. (Translation: “Please do not lick this teaspoon/ it’s for collective use.”)

And the licking doesn’t stop there…

p.s. before you leave, please wipe your feet really good on the rhythm rug. kthx!

Anna brings us this charitable little note from the her apartment building in London, Ontario.

“Anytime Stan” — proof that Canadians really are the nicest people on earth?

Meanwhile, in Milwaukee…

And lastly, a vaguely dadaist interpretation, in what very well may be another one of L.A.’s elevator-cum-film sets.

related: cross-country elevator action

Sounds like somebody in this Seattle office is havin’ a little ‘roid rage.

What’s Muscle Milk, you ask? Well, say its makers, “Muscle Milk is arguably America’s favorite protein.” Apparently because unlike, say, chicken, Muscle Milk comes in flavors like “egg nog,” “chocolate banana crunch” and “root beer float.”

related: Try a bite

Mona in Los Angeles brings us this pair of notes from her high-rise Century City office building.  Says Mona, “Apparently my co-worker saw the panties at issue. My question is…who leaves their panties in the bathroom at work?  Who does that?”

My question: Why are we letting Paris and Britney off the hook? If they actually remember to wear them, shouldn’t we encourage keeping them on?

And then there’s this one, which brings up the old mad bomber-era debate about which gender leaves the bathrooms in worse shape.