A possibly prescient note from the offices of Yahoo! U.K….

related: just in case you didn’t catch the sarcasm

Writes Jaina in Westport, Conn.: “I dated this asshole last fall, and dumped him because I found out that he was using his Livejournal to try to bang girls on the side. I, of course, still spy on him.” Or at least, she did…until her ip address gave her up.

Adds Jaina: “Please note that the entry was posted at 11:45 p.m. on a Friday. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions about the state of his love life.”

Meanwhile, when a passive-aggressive blog posting starts to seem like a relatively direct method of communication, you know things aren’t going to end well.

related: Who would’ve thought? It figures

Nicky in Elwood, Indiana (a diehard fan of the Indianapolis Colts) put this sign on her office door last week only to find it defaced by a phantom Pats fan each night after she left. Needless to say, Nicky’s feeling quite vindicated today on behalf of both brothers Manning.

tangential: The partly cloudy patriot [wnyc.org]

Curse as much as you want, dude: you’re still bitching about body wash. (Personally, that’s what I’d call a gamekiller.)

related: I swear this isn’t some sort of stealth viral marketing campaign

“Beware,” indeed: Walking along “West 25th or so” in Manhattan, this “work of art” was enough to make Eric “personally” “shit his pants.”

extra credit: The Zagat history of my last relationship [The New Yorker]

“The tiny Sioux City, Iowa airport had a jaw-droppingly comprehensive intro to what one could or could not take on board a plane,” reports Timoni from San Francisco, including actual sample-sized bottles of toiletries taped up, show-and-tell style. “The corker, though, was this vehement note near the end (which, yes, had a plastic QUART-SIZE BAG!!!!!!!!! taped underneath).”

related: If the TSA was in charge of the office fridge

Ashley in Chicago says her roommates are the king and queen of passive-aggressive notes. (“If they ever found this site, they’d think it was a self help group,” she says.) The latest example:

Ashley’s still fuming over this one. “I mean, come on. Just throw it away yourself! You’re probably exerting more energy writing the email and stressing about it,” she says. “And why do you think I’ve been spending so much time at my boyfriend’s anyway?”

This fridge saga (from a Boston-area university lab building) comes to us with a confession on the part of the anonymous submitter: she started it, sort of.

It all began when she discovered that her salad dressing had been mysteriously disposed of. Sad that she had to eat dry lettuce for lunch, she left a note (1) for the black hand responsible “in the least bitchy way I knew how.” She didn’t realize that her soundoff was actually a declaration of war.

Adds our submitter: “Needless to say, I think we have all been spending a little too much time in the lab.”

related: Great, your OCD just caused a diabetic coma. Happy?

At the Washington restaurant where Scott works, a customer recently informed one of his coworkers that when she was a waitress back in the day, tips were regarded as a luxury (a sentiment that’s been echoed by many commenters on this site).

Thrilled as she was by this little history lesson, Scott’s coworker decided a little present-day tutorial was only fair. Says Scott: “She retrieved her most recent paycheck (zero dollars and zero cents…in D.C., servers make $2.77 an hour, which all goes to taxes), wrote a little note, and dropped it on the table after they had paid their check.”

related: This is why your server is cranky

But…but…it’s cold out and you’re so close to all the really good gifting suites! Perhaps a Swarovski-crystal-encrusted-organic-sea-kelp loofah would change your mind?

(Thanks to Dan M. in Park City, Utah for snapping the photo.)

related: But He took the wheel