“I found this posted on every vertical object within a block radius around Adam’s Point in Oakland,” says submitter JasonP. (I particularly enjoy point #4 of the response.)

Meanwhile, a set of neighbors in Vancouver, B.C. were tussling over a similar case of mistaken identity.

related: I’m not creepy, in fact…I’m quite gay.

extra credit: “But he was dressed like a ‘gang person,’ you guys!”

Every day, you watch them, in horror: Those vile, germ-laden, nether-region-wiping creatures who don’t wash their hands after using the toilet. Confronting the offenders directly wouldn’t work, because, well, you’re passive-aggressive, and that’s just not how you roll. So what to do next?

Well, you could dazzle them with some accusatory statistics…

…or attempt to appeal to the altruists in the audience.

And maybe try to lure in the sports fans with the promise of some fun trivia!

If they see through that little scheme, you could try patronizing your patrons outright…

…or just straight-up treat them like four-year-olds. (“Did you wash your hands?” “Yes.” “DID YOU WASH YOUR HANDS?” “I said yes!!!”)

Perhaps even a dash of reverse psychology?

Of course, those less-straightforward techniques just might just backfire on you.  In that case, you could play the bully with THE CLIP ART THAT MUST BE STOPPED.

Or, if your clip-art collection is a bit larger…release the dragon!

Not scary enough? Maybe it’s time to bust out the F word.

Or the even scarier F-word: FECAL-ORAL.

And if that still doesn’t work? Well, I guess you’ll just have to flounce away, invest in some latex gloves, and vow to hold it ’til you get home.

(Thanks to Jen in Houston, Jenni in Spokane, Marley in Pittsburgh, Lindsey in Memphis, Laura in Richmond, and the many anonymous submitters for their contributions.)

related: Five approaches to toilet paper maintenance

extra credit:  “On Washing Hands,” by Atul Gawande

extra extra credit: “Maybe You Touched Your Genitals” Liquid Hand Soap

Our Bay-Area submitter returned from lunch one day to find this note from an anonymous concerned coworker.

“I’ll admit that I’ve gained about 15 pounds recently,” she says. However, “At 4’11 and normally around 95 pounds, even with the extra 15 I’m still within an acceptable weight range for my height.” But the real kicker, says our submitter?

“I’m also 5 months pregnant. I just haven’t made a big deal about it by talking incessantly about it or demanding special treatment like I’m God’s gift to the world just because I got myself knocked up.”

(So, uh, I think that’s a no, she won’t be seeing you there.)

related: I am beautiful, not matter what they say (or passive-aggressively insinuate)

Katie in Oklahoma City was cleaning out a box of wedding memorabilia when she rediscovered this note from her mother, written just after she paid for Katie’s wedding dress.

Although I know a lot of brides who would have immediately ripped this card (and the enclosed check) to bits, Katie accepted the gift with impressively good humor. “I found it funny,” she says, “because it’s just the way my Mom is. She signed my Dad’s name too, but it’s from her…just her.”

“Oh, and just FYI,” Katie adds, “I think I weighed 115 pounds at the time this note was written.”

related: Loose lips shrink hips?

extra credit: We hope there’s a Borg scale for every bride! [LIFE magazine, 1961]

Alex and his wife, Kathy, have an 18-month-old son who, among other his hobbies, enjoys pulling off his socks and shoes at any opportunity. (Perhaps he’s a future marathon-running superathlete. Or, you know, a normal 18-month-old.)

Recently, Kathy took her son with her on a trip to the store in their hometown of Las Vegas (temperature: a bone-chilling 64 degrees). When she came back to the car, she found this helpful bit of parenting advice waiting on her windshield.

related: Oh, the Rancher and the McMansioner should be friends

On a lark, Michelle in Florida posted a profile on the online dating site OKCupid after taking one of the site’s quizzes late one night, allowing the site to pull most of her interests and whatnot from Facebook.

“I didn’t think anything more of it,” she says, that is, until she got this “helpful” message — apparently one adjunct university professor’s idea of a charming conversation starter.

related: Not-a-match.com

Sadly, not everyone shares Angela‘s compassion for the portly.

At Julie’s office in Alexandria, Virginia, one employee decided to formalize his or her grudge against artificial sweeteners (and us fatties who love them) with a little help from the reception desk label-maker. Protests Julie: “Hey, some of us just like our sucralose, okay? Or maybe we’re diabetic!”

(In one office break room in the Twin Cities, meanwhile, the sugar packets themselves do the talking…)

And across town at a different office in St. Paul, the office manager (“a fitness freak,” according to our submitter) takes the (relatively) constructive approach with her fellow employees — who are, our submitter agrees, “a bunch of lard-ass geeks who don’t exercise.” Um, thanks?

related: Do your stairs think you’re fat?

Perhaps Dirty Lady #2 got an office job?

related: the most disgusting thing is a nasty lady