After a night of heavy drinking, Dani in Baltimore woke up with a killer hangover that turned positively murderous when she noticed that her bottle of Gatorade — which she’d been saving in anticipation of her post-hangover re-hydration needs — was missing from the fridge.

Assuming her husband must have taken it, Dani quickly dashed off this exclamation-point-heavy tirade (which, of course, is “passive” only in the sense that she chose to sit down at the keyboard instead of going straight for the butcher knife).

A few hours later, however, says Dani, “I remembered that I had actually drunkenly finished the bottle of Gatorade the night before, in an attempt to avoid said hangover. Oops!”

I’m  hoping this little “oops” was a come-to-Jesus moment for Dani that showed her the error of note-writing ways, but if not…well, Dani’s husband: consider yourself warned. Because seriously, this is America, not another planet!

related: You are on Uncle Paul’s list!

Dan in Melbourne says he saw this sign while riding along a North Fitzroy bike path, which runs parallel to a park. Says Dan: “Now, I’ve owned a dog and I know how they like to roll in stinky things, but this it taking it to a new, super gross level.”

More gross than your dog rolling in/eating some other dog’s shit? Or stepping in a fresh pile of it yourself? I’m not sure I’m convinced. (Not that humans should be exempt from proper poop-scooping etiquette, of course.)

Personally, I’d like to imagine this as a triumphant act of payback on the part of a score-settling colon cancer survivor. (“This is for all the times I’ve stepped in your dogs’ crap. Enjoy!!”)

related: Do you want a doggy bag?

From Stacey in Jacksonville, Florida: the blitzkrieg approach to ongoing breakroom disorder.

And from Englewood, Colorado…the passive-aggressive approach:

related: Nutra-not-so-sweet

Halloween was just a prelude, really —it’s Christmas that brings the real bounty of guilt-trip opportunities, often with a bonus side helping of irony.

To wit: Jaime in Canada says his neighbor (okay, “neighbour”) went totally Clark Griswold with his Christmas decorating this year, creating a sparkling extravaganza that is, Jaime says, “quite the treat for the eyes.”

But the best part of the display might be what stands in front of Santa and his team of reindeer  — an ellipses-and-exclamation-fueled cautionary tale about the true meaning of Christmas…consumerism!!! (Take that, Tiny Tim!)

related: Who stole and vandalized a candy cane? Who stole the baby Jesus??

Our submitter spotted this amazing stream-of-consciousness manifesto inside a small tea shop in Hertfordshire, U.K. “I especially like the lack of punctuation, constantly shifting tone, and preachy generalizations,” she says. “Apparently it’s not enough to simply request that customers wipe their feet or use a trash can — it’s necessary to subject them to a generational guilt trip as well.”

related: That must be some damn good coffee…

Before her husband left on his first military deployment, Sarah in San Diego sent out an e-mail to the whole family with info about how everyone can stay in touch while he’s away. To avoid any potential in-law drama, she even had her husband read and sign off on the e-mail before sending. What neither Sarah nor her husband took into account? The Uncle Paul factor.

Her husband’s Uncle Paul, Sarah explains, is a mailman/postman/letter carrier — whatever the correct term is. (Based on Uncle Paul’s reply, she says, “I’m clearly not up enough on the intricate etiquette of the U.S. Postal Service to know.”)

related: This is why your postal worker is disgruntled

Lisa from Toronto doesn’t try to hide the fact that this note was, uh, not exactly undeserved. “On a long weekend in Grand Bend, my boyfriend squeezed into a parking spot which partially placed his front tires on the edge of someone’s lawn,” she says. But if Lisa and her bf lost any sleep over their vehicular faux pas — and I’m guessing they didn’t — it seems like this note, which Lisa called “amazing,” would more than make up for it. Okay!

Upon moving into their new college house this fall, Danny and his roommates at Boston College received this delightfully punctuated welcome letter from their next door neighbor — delivered via U.S. Postal Service, no less.

I, for one, can’t wait ’til the Ben Affleck adaptation comes out. We’ll have a “late night beer party” to celebrate!

related: Passive voice abuse