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)

The inimitable Jeff Rubin passes along this note from the foyer of his Park Slope apartment building. Yup, that’s what you think it is there on the floor. (Perhaps a hapless victim of the bag-tampering deliquent?)

(Jeff says the mess was cleaned up when he checked a few hours later.)

Meanwhile, elsewhere in Brooklyn, confusion still reigns.

related: Oh, shit!

Daniel saw this note in a men’s room on the 59th floor of the Empire State Building, where he confirms the toilets were indeed frequently left unflushed.

related: Priorities

Laura spotted this punchline of a note (“you know it’s time to move out when…”) at her apartment building in downtown Brooklyn. Or rather, her former apartment building. It’s unclear whether the note-leaver was motivated by recent research suggesting that pictures of eyes may deter crime.

Meanwhile, Kim in Worcester, Massachusetts spotted a convenience store taking a similarly whimsical approach to theft prevention.

“Keep in mind that this is coming from the messiest and loudest of six roommates,” says our anonymous submitter, a college student in New York. Isn’t it always?

My own neighborhood of Park Slope, Brooklyn has high concentrations of dogs, babies, crazies and bloggers, which makes for a heady brew of incredibly well-documented passive-aggressiveness. Certain notes (like this long-running series) show up in my inbox over and over again. I’ve gotten various iterations of this note from no fewer than six different people over the past few months, with good reason.

I think the dogged persistence of the note-writer is pretty incredible in its own right, but even better is what the note doesn’t quite explain: these bags weren’t just being stolen — some “juvenile/adult delinquent” was also cutting the bottom of the bags, then putting them back for the next unsuspecting dog-walking victim. Oh, shit!

(Thanks to William, Kathleen, Elaine, Sarah, T-1-11, and JM for submitting!)

related: What is it about dog crap that pushes Brooklynites over the edge?

This just in: starving unborn children aren’t the only casualties of office fridge lunch thievery. As one anonymous New Yorker reports, now the sick and the infirm are being picked off, too!

(Thank you kindly? Best wishes? Hungry on the 12th floor, you kill me.)

Bradley in New York woke up yesterday to find this little love note from his girlfriend. (His explanation? “She’s a light sleeper.”) I feel her pain. If there’s a sound more irritating than a Nokia ring tone, the pathetic “I’m dying” whine of an out-of-juice cell phone just might be it.

Meanwhile, Chris’s friend Michelle doesn’t appreciate having her beauty rest disturbed, either…