Our submitter spotted this amazing stream-of-consciousness manifesto inside a small tea shop in Hertfordshire, U.K. “I especially like the lack of punctuation, constantly shifting tone, and preachy generalizations,” she says. “Apparently it’s not enough to simply request that customers wipe their feet or use a trash can — it’s necessary to subject them to a generational guilt trip as well.”
Entries Tagged as 'U.K.'
December 5th, 2010 · 44 Comments
October 1st, 2010 · 53 Comments
Kelcy from London snapped this photo while this year’s Glastonbury Festival. “And yes, it was amazing,” she says. “Poor Tom!”
UPDATE: Prue from Manchester reports spotting a similar — slightly more aggressive — message at Glastonbury, too. “The crossed out bits were the ‘just ex’ girlfriend’s phone number and name (so one could send her an abusive message on Facebook),” Prue says. “Lovely.”
August 31st, 2010 · 42 Comments
At Nat’s office in York, England, one of his coworkers has been trying to bully everyone into coughing up some cash for an (admittedly worthy) charitable cause.
In Nat’s opinion, however, her guilt-heavy fund-raising techniques might benefit from a little fine-tuning…especially given that all seven of those special “charity pens” were nicked from the office supply closet.
related: Starve on!
August 30th, 2010 · 72 Comments
In one of my clearest memories of first grade, I distinctly remember my teacher telling us, on the first day of school, that the bathroom in the back of the classroom was only for emergencies. For non-emergencies, we’d have to wait until lunchtime. In my six-year-old mind, however, “emergency” meant only one thing: “throwing up.” And so, when I had to go, I held it. And held it. Until…well, I wasn’t holding it anymore.
That’s right: It actually took wetting my pants for me to learn that the word “emergency” means very different things to different people — a concept some people apparently still haven’t figured out.
It’s unclear, for example, what might constitute a “citrus emergency” at this Pleasanton, California optometrist’s office. (Perhaps a masochistic mandarin peeling itself?)
You might think people would be a little more precise in their language on a military base. At Arizona’s Fort Huachuca, you’d only be about half right.
At Gustavo’s new office building in Seattle, it only took about a week — and about a bazillion false alarms— before someone decided a little clarification was necessary. (Sorta sounds like something you’d expect from a classroom of first-graders, no?)
Meanwhile, Andrew in Cirencester, England only noticed this sign after pushing open one of his office’s alarmed fire doors (triggering a sudden and unforeseen occurrence — i.e., ear-shattering noise).
related: Gee, thanks for the clarification
August 11th, 2010 · 53 Comments
At the local community centre, Isabel in Bolton, England (Home of the “White Men”) spotted this board put together by some Sunday School children entitled “My Mum is Special.” (Kudos to the teachers for allowing the kids considerable latitude in how they chose to define “special.”)
July 5th, 2010 · 101 Comments
The following message is a bit long, yes, but I had to post it because it reads uncannily like what I imagine as the epistolary novel of the future — complete with an unreliable narrator à la the Adrian Mole Diaries (or the sub-par American ripoff, Youth in Revolt).
It comes to us from Helen in Northern Ireland, who gives the following backstory: ”So, I met a friend of a friend on a night out and he offered to ‘walk me home.’ Seeing right through that clever ruse, I left, only to be bombarded with no fewer than four texts, a Facebook message and a voicemail all saying some inebriated yet romantic things.”
Months later, Helen ran into a mutual friend of this would-be Lothario, and casually said something along the lines of, ‘He tried to walk me home once, but I think he is a bit strange.’ Shortly thereafter, she received this gem of a Facebook message. “Luckily,” Helen says, “he removed and blocked me from Facebook immediately after sending it. Nice chap!”
June 28th, 2010 · 70 Comments
Jane in Boston says this note appeared on Tomio’s bedroom door, at cat’s-eye level. “Given that I’m pretty sure cats can’t read, it’s the ultimate passive-aggressive sentiment,” Jane says, “but a cat shitting on your bed is pretty passive aggressive, too. What a tangled web we weave.”
Meanwhile, a submitter in Cornwall, England spotted this note (again, at pet’s-eye level) on the front door of a house. “It was unclear what the dog had done, how the notewriter expected the dog to read this, or how ‘Diane’ was filming the dog,” our submitter says. “There was no sign of a camera.”
And yet, it’s this commandment —posted by a neighbor of Marissa in San Francisco — that tickles me the most.
UPDATE: A bonus note (via Anthonio in Seattle), from…Dirt.
April 13th, 2010 · 106 Comments
At first glance, would you assume that the the writer of this note….
a) is kind of a racist prick?
b) has a thing against students/alumni from a certain university in Providence, R.I.?
c) has a penchant for using confusing euphemisms for bodily waste?
I’ll admit I assumed the answer was either a or b, until I read the submitter’s explanation about where the note was found: above the stinky toilet in a share house of (mostly male) British university students.
The verdict: Still offensive, just, you know, in a different way.
related: 2 notes, 1 cupcake
March 24th, 2010 · 70 Comments
“Recently our neighbour falsely accused us of sending him a (passive?) aggressive letter,” says Joe in the U.K. “He was not a happy bunny.” Before an all-out note war commenced, however, the real culprit was apparently identified. Joe received this sincere note of apology the next day.
Adds Joe: “We’re not really sure what the car thing is about — probably a reference to the original note we didn’t send!”
related: (Don’t Fear) The Creeper
February 17th, 2010 · 194 Comments
Aleister in London found this critique slipped under his door after an impromptu Thursday night sing-along. “I am a big fan of my neighbours’ critical opinion,” Alastair says. “I won’t offer much defense other than that our music selection was exceptional and I was on my way to work when I found it.”
Well done, Flat 3. Dry wit, a soft touch, and lovely handwriting? This is one note that definitely deserves a place of honor on the fridge.
If you absolutely must write a note, I’d say this is how to do it.
related: It was an ironic dance party, okay?