When you work in the fashion business — like our submitter, a sales associate at a trendy boutique — being “fashion forward” often translates to just “forward.”

Or (like Lisa‘s coworker), straight-up bitchy.

Sometimes (as Rhonda in Boston noticed) working in fashion is somewhat akin to being, say, a life coach.

Or, just as likely…a drug counselor.

related: Yo, sweaty beasts!

Our anonymous submitter in Canada says his apartment building has been having some crime issues lately that has the residents all aflutter — resulting (according to the following note) in a modern-day witch hunt…Canadian-style!

Jay darling, I think everybody in your building owes you a big fat hug.

related: On jamming

One lazy Sunday, when our anonymous submitter in Minneapolis spotted this bit of graphity on a wooden bridge at a park, “At first I thought it was sweet in a sad kind of way,” he says. But then he kept finding more — “on benches, picnic tables, even trees, and they got progressively more insane.”

And yet, as many questions as these notes raise, I’m sure we can all agree that whatever Keith’s wife did, IT HAD TO BE DONE.

Here, Keith’s wife really shows off her flair for language (which we got a brief glimpse of in her earlier “hot dog” opus.)

Then, evidently quite pleased with herself, Keith’s wife gives herself an encore on another bench.

related: to have and to hold

Jeff in Grand Blanc, Michigan says one of his friends found this note on her bed one day when she came home from school. (And no, you can’t go live there.)

related: LAN party at Mom’s house!

Three U.S. cities where nature-lovers might want to keep their hands to themselves:

1. Austin, Texas

2. Macon, Georgia

3. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

(Thanks to Don in Austin, Elizabeth in Macon, and Jasmine in Pittsburgh for risking the wrath of some devoted gardening/second amendment enthusiasts to document these warnings.)

related: No “questions” asked

This public service announcement is brought to us by Tully’s Coffee, courtesy of Megan in Seattle.

related: “If it wasn’t for the toilet, there’d be no books”

Amber received this amazing note in an envelope on her doorstep in Sacramento. “I have no idea which neighbor sent this to me, but I can only assume it was the paranoid-looking woman who lives above me,” she says. “But I don’t do drugs. I don’t even smoke cigarettes!”

related: Don’t hate the playa

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.