PassiveAggressiveNotes.com » Seattle

It’s not a chore; it’s a date!

Kerry — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 02:58:38 +0000

Spotted by Kathy at her office lunchroom in Seattle:

The real sad reality?

Lord of the Laundry Room

Kerry — Wed, 22 Jun 2011 02:19:50 +0000

I’m probably more than a little biased when it comes to determining whether or not Alan in Seattle — the writer of the note below and self-appointed Lord of the Laundry Room — is, in fact, an ass.

For one, even though I know the scent of fresh laundry is actually thanks to evil chemical compounds and not “mountain breeze” or “spring rain,” I still kinda love it. Of course, I don’t live in an apartment directly above a laundry room. Instead, I live in an apartment surrounded by chain smokers. And while I hardly enjoy the smell of cigarettes, I’ve managed to deal without threatening to confiscate my neighbors’ Marlboros and replace them with bottles of bubble solution. (I also keep my windows shut.)

What say you, troublemakers? Is Alan wrong? Or is he just an asshole?

related: You’re not wrong, Walter

How to respectfully steal my food

Kerry — Thu, 16 Jun 2011 04:00:52 +0000

Compared to the notes we usually see about food theft, Steven seems like a pretty reasonable guy. But isn’t “respectful stealing” still something of an oxymoron?

recent: That Outback bread was…

Really, Garry, you had me at “plese.”

Kerry — Fri, 03 Jun 2011 04:56:11 +0000

I asked our submitter if she might be able to snap another photo of this memo/notice — one without the ghostly reflection of the man in the wifebeater — but alas, she says, it has since been taken down and replaced with a new memo offering a $500 reward for information leading to the culprit still vandalizing the elevator.

And yet, now that I’ve spent a little time with this image (in all of its beautiful absurdity), I’ve come to feel that it just wouldn’t feel quite complete without wifebeater man. Because this, my friends, is a work of art.

related: Thx Sandra

To whom that wanted my cat bot

Kerry — Sun, 06 Feb 2011 23:19:34 +0000

The proper care of outdoor cats has become one of those issues — like tipping, or whether the toilet paper roll should hang over or under — that will no doubt incite flame wars until the end of time. That said, Lindsay in Oregon was still a bit surprised when this note appeared on her apartment building’s bulletin board, given that “FOUND” posters referencing the same collar-less cat had been posted on said bulletin board for weeks on end.

After experiencing similar problems with the neighbors (despite the fact that his cat already wears tags with his owner’s phone number on them) Elisa’s friend in Seattle had another tag made in hopes of preventing future trips to “kitty jail” — or at least to piss of the neighbors taking his cat there.

related: Cat fight!

Please, contain your excitement.

Kerry — Tue, 02 Nov 2010 18:19:05 +0000

“My office just got a new style of paper which has caused quite the stir,” says our submitter in Seattle. “It’s made from forested trees, or something like that, so obviously we can’t wait to use it.”

A clue that your whole “half-caf, extra hot, non-fat dressing-on-the-side” thing might be a bit much.

Kerry — Thu, 23 Sep 2010 06:35:46 +0000

“Perhaps I was a bit too particular about what I wanted when I ordered my salad at lunch,” admits Daniel in Seattle. “I found this when I pulled it out of my bag back at the office.”

And from the Athens, Ohio Dept. of Disgruntled Baristas…

related: Have it your way, jerk

In case of emergency…well, you’re on your own.

Kerry — Tue, 31 Aug 2010 02:38:52 +0000

In one of my clearest memories of first grade, I distinctly remember my teacher telling us, on the first day of school, that the bathroom in the back of the classroom was only for emergencies. For non-emergencies, we’d have to wait until lunchtime. In my six-year-old mind, however, “emergency” meant only one thing: “throwing up.” And so, when I had to go, I held it. And held it. Until…well, I wasn’t holding it anymore.

That’s right: It actually took wetting my pants for me to learn that the word “emergency” means very different things to different people — a concept some people apparently still haven’t figured out.

It’s unclear, for example, what might constitute a “citrus emergency” at this Pleasanton, California optometrist’s office. (Perhaps a masochistic mandarin peeling itself?)

You might think people would be a little more precise in their language on a military base. At Arizona’s Fort Huachuca, you’d only be about half right.

At Gustavo’s new office building in Seattle, it only took about a week — and about a bazillion false alarms— before someone decided a little clarification was necessary. (Sorta sounds like something you’d expect from a classroom of first-graders, no?)

Meanwhile, Andrew in Cirencester, England only noticed this sign after pushing open one of his office’s alarmed fire doors (triggering a sudden and unforeseen occurrence — i.e., ear-shattering noise).

Dr. Doolittle gets tough

Kerry — Tue, 29 Jun 2010 01:24:44 +0000

Jane in Boston says this note appeared on Tomio’s bedroom door, at cat’s-eye level. “Given that I’m pretty sure cats can’t read, it’s the ultimate passive-aggressive sentiment,” Jane says, “but a cat shitting on your bed is pretty passive aggressive, too. What a tangled web we weave.”

Meanwhile, a submitter in Cornwall, England spotted this note (again, at pet’s-eye level) on the front door of a house. “It was unclear what the dog had done, how the notewriter expected the dog to read this, or how ‘Diane’ was filming the dog,” our submitter says. “There was no sign of a camera.”

And yet, it’s this commandment —posted by a neighbor of Marissa in San Francisco — that tickles me the most.

UPDATE: A bonus note (via Anthonio in Seattle), from…Dirt.

Grow some thicker bark, why don’tcha?

Kerry — Fri, 04 Jun 2010 02:52:22 +0000

“If you want respect,” barked the Daddy tree, “you gotta earn it. Show ‘some freakin’ acorns!”

“But Daaaaaaad,” whined the trembling young sapling. “I just…I just want to be beautiful!”

“What is this, a goddamn Shel Silverstein book? Quit your birching already.”

(As witnessed by Kevin in Arcata, California, and (below) by Taber in Richmond, Virginia.)

But as Michael in Seattle observed, at least one of those sad little trees wasn’t about to let his bully of a father have the last word.

related: The right to bear fruit

And your mosaic sucks

Kerry — Thu, 20 May 2010 02:45:58 +0000

Anybody else in the mood for a no-holds-barred, batshit-crazy tirade? ’Cause I sure am! Pretty much the only thing remotely “passive” about this message — which Jared in Seattle found taped to the front entrance of his share house — is the fact that it was delivered by note, rather than say, by fist.

The note writer takes a little while here to build up steam, but manages to get in at least one solidly below-the-belt jab before spiraling into a CAPS LOCK-induced rage blackout.

related: Worst secret admirer ever?

Which is more despicable?

Kerry — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 04:57:40 +0000

Exhibit A, as seen by an anonymous submitter in Seattle?

…or exhibit B, as spotted by Mitch in Goldendale, Washington?

related: and god knows what

Thanks for not asking

Kerry — Thu, 16 Jul 2009 13:00:57 +0000

Let me stop you right there. Before you say anything else, have you consulted this sign, as spotted on the door of a souvenir shop by Angie in Seattle?

Or this one, as seen by Meghann outside a bar in San Francisco?

Well, then your questions will certainly be answered by my personal favorite, spotted by Jessie at a sandwich shop in Charlottesville, Virginia:

In other words…the butterflies are passive-aggressive

Kerry — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 15:31:33 +0000

Writes Dan in Seattle: “I work at a federal hospital and often ride my motorcycle to work. There is another hospital employee that also does so, and we usually park in the same area. Space is at a premium —especially around this woman and her self-proclaimed 10-foot-wide protected parking bubble. Another time she left me a note asking me not to block her in (when I hadn’t blocked her in!) but this latest note from her is the best encounter by far. I parked behind her about a foot back, leaving plenty —and I mean plenty — of room for her to pull out, but apparently that wasn’t enough for her.”

This time, Dan says, “for the safety of my motorcycle (and obviously, out of spite), I told the police.” Lucky for us, he scanned a copy of the note first. It’s the totally “biker chick” stationery that makes it, of course.

related: hello kancer!