You might recall this epic note — the obnoxious vegan roommate who “forbade” her roommate from bringing animal products into the apartment. Our original submitter writes in to say that since that showdown, she decided to move out (in favor of a more omnivore-friendly living environment).

“After almost five months of zero communication,” she reports, “my ex-roomie started texting me out of nowhere. It appears her vegan fanaticism is still putting her at odds with others.”

related: My self-righteous vegan roommate

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!”

related: And women like u wonder why u get judged and labeled shallow

Our submitter, P, is a sophomore at a certain university in upstate New York (the one that typically ties with Penn for the Ivy League university most people forget is actually in the Ivy League).

Students are moving out of the dorms this week, P says, so facilities management locked the building’s garbage chute to prevent it from overflowing. “Instead, residents are supposed to take the trash to a dumpster that’s a couple of feet away from the building — we even have an elevator!”

But what if your sense of entitlement is like, too heavy to make it to that elevator? Hello, note war!

related: At Oberlin, that $48,000 a year doesn’t include toilet paper.

extra credit: What not to wear in Ithaca [Ivygate]

Simone in Austin says a coworker at her office invited several people over to a house for a game night, and helpfully distributed hand-drawn maps to help people find their way. Later that day, she found of those hand-outs back on her desk, along with the following bit of anonymous feedback. What a peach!

related: silent protest

extra credit: the hand-drawn maps association

Our submitter found this glorious piece of work on the door to the common room at her Oxford University dorm. “The guy who left it was a 6’5 redheaded dude who wore cravats,” she says. “No one was gonna fuck with him.” (I don’t really understand the causality there, but I’m gonna let that one go.)

I will give Dustin this much, though: through the pain, he always tells the truth.

related: come get some

As a little weekend bonus, I bring you this screed from the Smith Daily Jolt’s alumnae forum. Yes, it’s long.

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