Writes Nick in New York: “Those of you who have ever lived alone will remember the feeling of liberation and wild abandon that comes with getting your first solo space after a lifetime of family and crazy roommates.”

He continues: ”Unfortunately, I’ve got neighbors across a very narrow alley (about 6 feet across) and all our windows face each other. When I first moved in I noticed their shades were always down so I carried on with the kinds of things mid-20s guys do when they live alone. I have no idea what they had an opportunity to see, but it was enough to inspire them to post this note on all three windows. Whoops?”

related: Buy curtains. Please.

Having only worked at this office for a short time, Kay in Houston doesn’t know exactly what “The Fish Smell Invasion of 2012” refers to, “but being familiar with what happens in shared fridges,” she says, “I can guess.”

And as an extra special bonus: my (procrastinatory) ode to “The Fish Smell Invasion of 2012″ —

related: Passive-Aggressive Poetry Corner

Our submitter says this note, written by “by a fellow employee who finally had enough of working in the inferno we call Burger King,” quickly made the rounds of the entire staff after being handed into the manager.

“It’s funny,” she says, “because for three years this employee pretended to like everyone, and we would have never expected him to say or write anything like this. He even took the opportunity to insult the Hispanic kitchen staff!”

related: Have it your way, jerk!

It’s stuff like this that makes me remember why I live alone…

related: The Toilet Paper Manifesto

Seriously, Jay?

related: S is for Sibling Rivalry

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.