The most passive-aggressive thing about this note? Well, our submitter admits: “I do play soundtracks just to annoy him. Maybe next time he shouldn’t dance with other people’s significant others at the office holiday party.”

related: It was an ironic dance party, okay?

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

5. Being a stupid, illiterate jerk.

4. What, can’t you read?

3. Seriously, are you fucking illiterate?

2. Do we look like the kind of store that sells “I just called to say I love you”?

And last but not least…

1. The Internet (probably)

related: Our customers are always right…except when they’re wrong.

extra credit: thanks, mr. hipster

While waiting for the coffee maker to do its job, nickster2000 wandered over to the university notice board, where this musician-wanted ad caught his eye. He’s not a drummer, but says he considered ringing them up anyway. “I just really need to know what was so bad about Graham.”

related: I used to be your biggest fan

extra credit: Katlama on MySpace

Our anonymous submitter received this note after playing host to his friend’s band. In his defense, he says, “the house was not messy.” and, besides, “I never leave him notes when I do normal household chores like emptying the dishwasher and taking the trash out.”

Adds our submitter: “Oh, and he can’t count — it was seven guys.” (Quite a Michelle-esque touch, no?)

related: Martyr complex much?

Chonny lives in Manhattan apartment with three spirited roommates, and they enjoy, on occasion, knocking back a few glasses of wine for an impromptu roomie-bonding sing-a-long.

“One night around 10, after a particularly taxing day, we decided to bring the vibe down with a little Peter Gabriel,” Chonny says. “As we all belted out ‘In Your Eyes’ — with a couple of tears in ours — we heard a voice shout across the alley, “YOUR MUSIC SUCKS!” The next day, one of our uptown girls found this note pasted to the callbox downstairs.

Adds Chonny: “What really upsets me is that the writer doesn’t know the difference between Peter and Billy. Shall we move onto Bon Jovi?”

related: it was an ironic dance party, okay?; movin’ out (anthony’s song)

Derek and his bandmates in the Grand rapids, Michigan rock/metal band Charles the Osprey were in the middle of a post-set smoke when the club’s bartender came outside, grinning ear-to-ear, and handed them this note.

Unlike the unwilling participants in Improv Rverywhere’s “best gig ever,” Charles the Osprey seem to be taking the attention in stride. Writes Derek: “The funniest part is that she says nothing about the songwriting, which is obviously what she really hated, but rather talks about our lack of talent!”

(Sorry, would-be prank callers: it’s a non-working number.)

related: You know he only became a dj to get girls

Those troublemakers requesting more crazy apartment notes can thank our anonymous submitter (a GM at a property management firm in Springfield, Missouri) for today’s masterpiece. “One of our resident managers delivered this letter to 115 units at her property, then e-mailed me a copy because she was REALLY proud of it,” our submitter writes. “I got halfway through and realized I had to send it to you.”

Now, for the complaints…