Sara from Austin writes: “I took my 2-year-old to visit my darling (but travel-phobic) father-in-law. I’ve stayed at his house many times, but not since his girlfriend began living there. He told me to make myself at home and use anything we needed, specifically pointing to the linen closet. There was one bath towel and one washcloth hanging in the bathroom (for us to share?) so I helped myself to more.”

The next day, Sara says, “two brand-new (unwashed) towels were hanging in the bathroom and this note was taped inside the linen closet. The towels I had used the day before were all washed, folded and back in the closet behind the note. That night, we moved to my sister-in-law’s house.”

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Explains Johnny in Alabama: “My friend Lauren left this for my brother Jared when she let him stay at her house for a few weeks. Every day she would come home and have a glass of milk and iced coffee. One day, she discovered that Jared had emptied the milk once already and had replaced it with milk from the gas station. It wasn’t the ‘weird expensive milk that she buys,’ and to make matters worse, he hadn’t checked the expiration date. The second time it happened he accidentally put the empty carton back in the fridge and came home later to find this note” — complete with a ‘hidden’ message.

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Emmet in Phoenix says that at his office, “people donate magazines for others to peruse, but sometimes they grow legs and disappear.” Emmet recently found this (totally metal) back-and-forth about the issue…on the issues themselves.

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“Frankly, I find this a little bit ridiculous,” says our submitter in Ohio, “but then again, I’m not a man.”

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Could one final Sticky-Note Bomb be enough to put an end to months of guerilla-style passive-aggression?

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“On its face, this note details a bunch of common-sense rhetoric about being a good employee,” our submitter says. “What’s hilarious and sad is how our ‘Service Ambassador’ thinks that a thinly-veiled threat like this is supposed to inspire fervent company loyalty and ‘outstanding service.’ Come prepared to kiss ass or we’ll kick yours?”

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Erin in Los Angeles says it all started with a simple “No staples, please.” Then the whole office got involved.

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Marcel in Montreal begins his story with the moral: “There are just some things you don’t mess with — vipers, rabid dogs, king cobras, black widows…and my mom.” His younger self, however, was far less wise. This is his tale.

For a long time, Marcel and his siblings had the irritating habit of drinking all the milk in the house late at night so that there was none left when their mother went to pour herself a bowl of cereal for breakfast the morning.

One day, Marcel and his siblings came home from school to find a batch of “the richest, most delicious brownies ever” sitting on the counter. Of course, they dug in immediately. But just as he was about to head to the fridge to pour himself a cold, tall glass of milk to wash down all that chocolate-y goodness, Marcel noticed this note from Mom hiding underneath the crumbs.

“Sacre bleu!” he cried, for sure enough, there was not a drop of milk to be found in the house. Leaving a trail of brownie crumbs behind him, he ran as fast as he could to the nearest dairy farm, where, shortly before hitting send on this submission, he was eaten by a very hungry wolf.

“Both Marcel and the brownies,” the wolf wrote, “were fucking delicious.”

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Our submitter in Vancouver, Washington says this note was slipped under her door after her daughter was sent to her room following a disagreement about doing the dishes. Adds Mom: “I like that the poop is just there — not telling me I smell like poop, or to eat poop. Just…poop.”

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David in Nottingham, England says that one of his neighbors has been continually leaving bags of junk in the building’s common area, despite the fact that the communal waste bin is located just a few feet away on the other side of the door.

David says the first (un-photographed) notice said something along the lines of, “Come on man, we’re not animals.” The management company then wrote a letter to all tenants — again, to no avail. Apparently, the only recourse left was to get Liam Neeson on the phone.

Meanwhile, in Allentown, Pennsylvania:

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