Writes Renata: “On our holiday to northern Tasmania, we were driving to Mole Creek Caves when I spotted this sign in a tiny little town called Chudleigh. The town’s main point seemed to be the sale of honey, but obviously some of the residents have a sting in their tail.”

related: Canadian is angry; still says thank you

Our submitter in New Zealand, if forced to make a wild guess, says this missive “is probably from the woman across the hallway who stood in the middle of the floor last week and asked loudly, three times, ‘Who took my peanut butter from the fridge? Who?’” and then slunk back to her desk muttering under her breath.”

related: A sticky situation

Emptying the lint trap at the laundromat has never really bothered me, personally. At least one person in Denver, however, seems to mind a whole lot.

related: There’s no spitting in laundry.

You might recall the letter that Bill and Mara received from a stranger informing that “no one cares about your damn wedding.” Despite Andrew from the Internet’s professed apathy, it seems he had enough time on his hands to not just comb through Bill’s blog, but Bill and Mara’s wedding guestbook as well.

Bill says a family member, mistakenly assuming that the guestbook entries could only be viewed by friends and family, left a note about having moved, including their new address. “We soon caught the message and removed the address,” Bill says, “but not before Andrew saw the page.”

related: My name is Andrew, and I’m from the Internet.

Our submitter in Texas said she found the first note “while trying to rearrange a kitchen cabinet that is completely dominated by my roommate’s freakishly large collection of stale old teas.” (A coffee person herself, she’s never “borrowed” any.) But the best part, she says? “This lead me to poke around the apartment and uncover several similar notes. Cheers, roomie!”

related: My duh-runk roommate

Stephen in Eugene, Oregon rode by this house on his bike and was a block away before he realized he had to go back and take a photo for posterity. “I question who is the good neighbor here,” Stephan says. “I suspect this is about more than just the hydrangeas. But maybe they just really want room to park another car on the lawn.”

related: And bad fences make bad neighbors?

If you found yesterday’s post too saccharine for your taste, well, here’s a different sort of mother-daughter exchange. Hannah found this card nestled among a basket of Easter eggs that her mom gave her.

related: I can has guilt trip?

extra credit: “Family’s Easter decorations have neighbour hopping mad” [cbcnews]

Christine from Buffalo says her 7-year-old daughter, Mary, was curious as to whether or not the Easter Bunny pooped chocolate. Yet when this note showed up next to a pile of “droppings,” little Mary was unwilling to taste a sample to find out.

P.S. Is leaving carrots for the Easter bunny a thing, like leaving cookies for Santa? I totally didn’t know that was a thing, if it is a thing. Is it?

P.P. S. We can all agree that mall Easter bunnies are totally creepy, right?

related: The Easter bunny is a passive-aggressive little bugger

This interesting counterpoint to yesterday’s “multi-offensive” North Dakota screed was spotted by Amanda in the mountains of good ol’ East Tennessee. It was posted near a rope swing across a river, a popular place for swimming, breaking beer bottles, and, apparently, educating the next generation of foul-mouthed note-writers.

related: Roadside Intervention

Morgan from Fargo, North Dakota went out with friends one night in Grand Forks, and the parking situation was, in his words, “atrocious.” He spotted this message on the dash of one particularly poorly-parked pickup.

Though it’s hardly the most offensive part of this “multi-offensive” note, Morgan was just as confused by Andy’s Iowa/Texas hate as I was. Interestingly, at least one recent analysis found the state with the worst drivers to be none other than…any guesses?

 related: When parking gets political