Writes Toni in Wales: “I found these fightin’ words taped to one housemate’s cupboard. We’ve had some things go missing in the house, so I sympathise with their frustration. But the funniest part of this note, I think, is that this housemate had previously called a house meeting to complain about the other housemates’ infrequent and only slightly passive-aggressive notes. She considered them to be lowering the tone of the household, and demanded that any issues be raised in person (fair enough) — but then posted this doozy with no warning. The 30 exclamation points are a nice touch, though.”

related: What would Jesus do for a Klondike bar?

Failed strategies in bicycle theft deterrence:

1. Assuming the thief who stole your bike is schooled in Italian neorealism; appealing to said thief’s desire to be one of the cool kids.

2. Feigning empathy for said thief.

3. Chiding said thief for his stupidity via a barely legible run-on sentence without double-checking “you’re” grammar first.

(Grazie mille to Nadia in Melbourne, Chris in Amsterdam, and Tom in London for submitting!)

related: No, Daddy, I asked for a Wii!

When you live with six art students (like Kate in London),  you might find that life imitates art more often than you’d like.

related: Oxford drama

How’d you like to be flatmates with Dianne in London? Cos I’m thinking there just might be an opening soon…

related: clarifying motion #2

Zora Zero spotted this ongoing street-musician spat in Portobello Road Market, London.

I’m not a Londoner, but living near Portobello Road and complaining about the buskers seems like living near Times Square and complaining about the lights, no?  I was cheered, therefore, to see the responses added by other more busker-friendly neighbo(u)rs at the bottom of the original note.

Admits our submitter (who described herself as “team foreigner, with busker sympathies”): “the paint on the railing was indeed being damaged by the original anti-busking clear-plastic-envelope-taping resident.”

related: I used to be your biggest fan

Our submitter in London snapped a photo of this note in the kitchen of the PR agency where she works. Exactly what you’d expect to find at office full of “communication professionals,” no?

related: Switch to tea

Last year, Emily in Canterbury, England lived in a house with six other roommates — two guys downstairs, five girls upstairs. As is wont to happen in such circumstances, “we were originally all really good mates, but relationships deteriorated as the year went on,” Emily says — “the boys thought the girls were too messy!”

One source of flatmate friction, Emily says, was the habit a couple of the girls had of forgetting their keys when they went out clubbing…and then pounding on the front door at 3 a.m., raving drunk, until one of the guys let them in.

The low point came when one of the guys got woken up by an angry taxi driver rapping on his window (after one of the girls had tossed him 50p and run upstairs). Emily says this note appeared soon after.

related: The two-word compromise you’re looking for: zip wire

Rodti and Laura Elizabeth spotted these charming examples of local Scottish color outside an Internet cafe in Glasgow’s West End.

Meanwhile, a grocery story elsewhere in Glasgow displays a similar plea for clemency…one that seems intended for a similar clientele.

related: Blame it on Coke

extra credit: Buckfast tonic wine [wikipedia]
The worst toilet in Scotland [youtube]