Toucha my stuff and I breaka yo face.

Several years ago, I shared an office space with four other people. We had two trash cans for the four of us, one on one side of the room, and one on the other. The guy on my side worked mornings and afternoons, and I worked afternoons and evenings. Every day when I arrived, our trash can was next to his desk. When he left in the afternoon, I moved it to a space that was between our two desks so I could reach it without having to get up. Each day was the same - I'd move it in the afternoon, and the next day, it would be back by his desk.

One day when I arrived at work, I had the following message waiting for me in my e-mail:

Please do not move my trashcan again. Thanks.

I explained to him that the trash can was not his, it was ours, and that it needed to be accessible to each of us. I don't think he really got it, and our relationship was forever changed.

With that in mind, let me introduce you to one of my new favorite blogs: Passive-aggressive notes.

My current favorite comes from a senior center in Maryville, Missouri (go Bearcats!):



I have no idea what this note is referring to, but I just love the image of senior citizens battling it out, Call of Duty-style.