This lovely little exchange from Seattle comes to us via the ever-brilliant Dan Savage at The Stranger. It reads a bit like a “SAHM vs. WOHM” face-off on Urbanbaby, with blessedly fewer acronyms.

(More backstory and larger versions of the photos over at the slog.)

related: There’s Hertz…and there’s “not exactly”

Like this phrase, there are a few irritating little pieces of clip art that keep popping up in submissions over and over again. Hovering somewhere near the top of most-wanted list is this pouty little white-gloved dandy.

From the factories of Pittsburgh…

…to the cube-farms of Virginia, this perspiring misanthrope has been spreading his message of intolerance with impunity.

But, once again, it’s a note from a church bathroom (this one spotted by Jess in Boston) that really pushes things to a whole new level of divine didacticism.

Can I get a witness?!

related: clip art crimes

Is posting a “polite” sign for the neighbors passive-aggressive? “Perhaps,” says the Washington Post.

Perhaps this Portland resident could learn a lesson in politeness from our famously good-natured neighbors to the north? Or, um, maybe not.

(Photos from Guy in toronto, via jerrold!)

related: Boston, a place for friends

Writes an anonymous New Yorker: “Our neighbors hate us because we are the youngest in the building. Thus, any malfunction that occurs in the building results in notes directed towards us. And yes, this note was a follow-up to another note (seen at left) also directed at us.”

Happy St. Patrick’s Day, kids!

related: infinite note project

Faydra in Gainesville, Florida lives in an apartment complex she describes as “a step above dorm living” — 85 females total, all of them coming and going at all hours. Faydra’s next-door neighbors kicked things off (with the most frightening clip art extravaganza ever) and things devolved from there. In chronological order:

related: A fancy feast

From an anonymous heathen in Washington, D.C.:

related: It must have been a pretty big bite

Thanks to Rusty in Decatur, Georgia, who spotted this lovely exchange on the door of his apartment complex’s parking garage.

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)