Earlier this year, Emma in California was sharing a kitchen with three other girls. one day, out of the blue, one of her roommates posted this note. (Warning: prepare to reexamine any preconceptions you may have about Mormons, straight-edgers, and college-aged women in general.)

By the next morning, Wmma says, the note was promptly defaced, but Pam didn’t respond until about a week or so later, when she announced she was moving out. Apparently, she was saving it all up for her final missive. (Side note to God: While Pam may have a filthy mouth, she did censor herself from taking your name in vain!)

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extra credit: summer heights high [youtube]

…well, you know how it goes.

Meanwhile, in Melbourne…

And in London…

…a saucy variation on a much-photographed placard from London’s Soho:

But my favorite sign was spotted by Nick at a backpacker’s hostel in Rio:

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Geetha in Sydney says this note appeared in the shared dining room the day after the city’s gay Mardi Gras. The best part? “A few people admitted the condom might be theirs, but nobody would take credit for the note.”

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Our anonymous submitter spotted this signage at a homemade water park somewhere near Cherry Point, South Carolina.

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As far as post-coital “littering” goes, I’m guessing most dorm bathrooms have seen a lot worse than a pink t-shirt, no?

(And we certainly appreciate Matt in Greensboro for snapping the photo.)

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Our anonymous submitter in San Diego got this text message from a friend, explaining: “It’s in reference to him hooking up with one of my friends on my couch. He’s hooked up with three of my friends to date. It’s bound to get around, ya know?”

Adds our submitter: “There’s no safe way to respond to a passive-aggressive text, so I haven’t.”

related: Recipe for roommate discord

When our saga begins, our anonymous submitter’s girlfriend was living in a tiny apartment in Sydney, Australia. Due to space constraints, she was temporarily sleeping on what our submitter admits was “possibly one of the world’s shittiest sofabeds.”

But while the mailbox notes were presumably written first (based on the tone) they weren’t actually discovered until after a third note was slipped under the apartment door…

Mortified, our loving couple did, in fact, move their mattress to the floor. But that didn’t seem to placate their dear nameless neighb, who pinned this note to the the building’s common noticeboard…

“Ironically,” our submitter says, “it was found when we were moving out the horrible couch.”

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Our anonymous submitter lives in a 30-story condo building in Chicago. Her father works in the same building, and received this note in the suggestion box.

“I found the letter slipped under my door one day,” she says. “My dad had put it there after reading it with his boss. I’m sure he’s damn proud of his little girl!”

In her defense, our submitter believes the notes allegations to be more than a bit exaggerated. “I have never (that I can remember) regurgitated in the garage,” she says, adding, in the immortal words of Salt n Pepa: “If I wanna take a guy home with me tonight/IT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!”

Amy in Seattle says her favorite part of the note is the children (Please, think of the children!) but I was most impressed by the use of both “being effected” and “being impacted” in a single sentence. Those loud, “vulgar-related” noises might, in fact, be the sound of English teachers around the world crying out in agony.

Then there’s this one, from William over at lowercase l. It was slipped into his mailbox in Brooklyn by a neighbor several years (and girlfriends) ago. considering the awkwardness of the situation, I find it’s actually quite civil. It’s interesting, though, how people feel the need to give elaborate, vaguely scientific justifications (the acoustical properties of the windows, REM sleep) for why they don’t want to hear you getting it on.

“Is it doubly passive aggressive to use this site to convey this message?  I am the creator of this note, and the photo depicts actual conditions. I would love to send a post of this to said roommate at work.” —flushpatrol in Washington, D.C.

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