The third paragraph of the first e-mail is the brilliant part…though I’m gonna have to side with Michelle’s roommate on this one.

Adds Michelle: “that bread was fucking delicious.”

A booby-trapped soup — sans note — probably would have been the more effective (and more passive-aggressive) approach, but, um, to each his own?

If you’re wondering what OxyPowder is, allow Kenneth to explain.

Vici lives in London with five flatmates — all guys.

(If you don’t have a house full of cereal-stealing warcraft players like vici and don’t get the “orly?” thing…wikipedia to the rescue!)

related: cereal killer

Oh, how I love (totally tacky) reply-all e-mails.

Thanks to submitter Kate in New York City — who says she has a whole inbox full of e-mails like this from the coworkers at her law firm.

What Would Jesus Steal?

(Thanks to Sarah at Greenville College (a Christian school in Illinois) and  James in Beaumont, Texas for their submissions.)

related: Would Jesus steal jelly?

After receiving numerous “helpful tips” from her roommate at the University of Minnesota…

…Lydia decided to add a few “tips” of her own. (The large signs on the oven and the microwave were already there.)

related: Meet the world’s crankiest roommate

“My roommate Ian kept eating all the cereal I bought before I had a chance to have even a single bowl,” Dan says. Apparently the Cap’n decided to take matters into his own hands.

If you can’t read it, the Cap’n is saying: “Ian, If I catch you eating this delicious cereal, I’ll kill you in your sleep. Love, Dan.”

re: “You left evidence”, Good Soul says:

In 2001, I solved a “disappearing food” problem without these little notes. For some time (3 weeks or so), I bought some very nice food, put my name on it with a “do not touch — not for human consumption!” sign, and watched it disappear. I also found out about the fine taste of the thief – sugar was high in the rank. So on a random day, I placed a box of very nice sugar treats with the same sign, in the same place, and — as expected — it disappeared pretty soon. That was 9-10AM. By 2PM, the horse laxative I put in the food made two co-workers abandon the office in a hurry, only to spend the next 24 to 48 hours in the hospital.

Nothing was ever said (it could lead to lawsuit). If needed, I would claim the treats where for my horses, and “not for human consumption” — notice a similarity? I immediately stopped eating the food I left behind, just in case they thought of doing the same. Somehow, food never disappeared again. Next time I would use ink — permanent ink — just in case the idiots choose the lawsuit option.

re: “I swear this isn’t some kind of stealth viral marketing campaign”, LQP says:

Back in the day when I worked at a public library somebody stole my Hot Pockets. I responded by writing this passive-aggressive haiku (or something similar, I can’t recall it exactly) and posting it on the fridge:

Dear Hot Pocket Thief:
I hope that it tastes like guilt,
So hot and delish

The next day there was a note from the Hot Pocket thief who was profuse in his/her apology, as well as two new replacement boxes of hot pockets. I felt really terrible despite it all, and attempt to curb any passive aggressive behavior from myself.

re:“I spit in mine”, briggs says:

Where I used to work, there was this guy who would drink from anothers guy drink when he left the room. One time he place his drink on a napkin and wrote: “I spit in this”. When he got back somebody else had written “So did I!”

From Lindsay in Burbank:

Says the author of post-it #2: “The next day, she added a note that said, ‘Keep eating my sushi and you’re going to find out!’”

And from Jason in New Haven:

(To the left, the original note. To the right, the response.)

If you’re guessing these guys are engineers, you’re not that far off.

This exercise in redundancy is brought to us by Erika in Los Angeles. It’s like the note-writer couldn’t decide which tactic would be most effective and just opted for all of the above.