Frustrated by fridge thieves who continually ignore your polite (or not-so-polite) requests to keep their paws to themselves? Don’t get mad — get creative! You could end up with something so crazy it might actually work…that is, if it doesn’t totally backfire.

You could go for the classic bluff, with the hopes that you’ll inspire just enough self-doubt to encourage the thief to go for the next lunch bag over.

Or you could hold out hope that the thief in question is either very lazy, very stupid…

…or that he or she appreciates your twisted sense of humor enough to take mercy on your pathetic self.

Or you could just bring this for lunch. (Somehow, I think this would have been safe, even without the note.)

Thanks to Theresa in Birmingham, Alabama; Stacey in Manchester, New Hampshire; Alissa in Memphis, Tennessee; and Marianne in Dublin, Ireland for submitting!

related: That’s breastmilk!

Larissa in Tacoma, Washington recently sent her 7-year-old son, Silas, to a week of Bible camp. When he came home, Larissa says, she wondered if the experience hadn’t left him a bit…conflicted…especially after seeing the pillow he made during craft time.

(“Rouls,” by the way, is not Silas’s last name. That’s the 7-year-old spelling of “RULES.”)

Meanwhile, I can see how the sign below, from a candy store in Rayne, Louisiana — which I assume was intended to deter this theft — could easily send a particular type of child into a tailspin of religious guilt.

Is God smiling? How do I know if God’s smiling? Does God like chocolate? I don’t think chocolate’s in the Bible. But Proverbs says: ‘My child, eat honey, for it is good.’ So maybe I should get a Bit o’ Honey instead. But a Bit o’ Honey costs more than 50 cents, and Mom said I could only spend 50 cents. So then I’d be dishonoring my parents, and that wouldn’t make God happy. So maybe I should…maybe I should….[bursts into tears]

related: What Would Jesus Do for a Klondike Bar?

So, you still haven’t tried “new taste of Domino’s Pizza,” despite the barrage of marketing dollars being spent encouraging you to do so?  Not to worry! I’ll save you the heartburn incurred by a certain food-filching WashU student and his victims.

Here’s the scoop: If you order a pizza from Domino’s, there’s a 60% chance it will taste like a college student’s balls, and a 40% chance it will taste like a college student’s balls. (Oh, and to the Domino’s brand managers reading this: feel free to quote us on that!)

Explains Bridget in St. Louis: “There has been a quite nefarious food thief stealing from the dorm’s community refrigerator lately, and I should know, since my stuff has been taken too. There have been a couple of complaints posted to the fridge, but this is the best one I’ve seen. It was written on a napkin duct-taped to a pizza box that had been (rather hastily) stuffed in the refrigerator.”

related: My mum bought me that pizza!

extra credit: “New York Times Discovers New Trend: Bros Icing Bros” [gawker.com]

Too busy to microwave your morning serving of saturated fat? No worries! If you’re a New Yorker, you can get your “special diet food” delivered right to your door. Or, um, your neighbors’ doors.

Our anonymous submitter can vouch for the note’s veracity. First of all, she says, the McDonalds is literally one block away from the apartment building. “But what’s worse,” she says, “is that the dude didn’t give his apartment number, so the delivery guy just started banging on random people’s doors and yelling ‘Scotty!’  in the hallway. At 7 AM!”

related: The time-tested “sausage, egg and cheese” diet

Mothers truly skilled in the art of passive-aggression don’t need much to make their feelings known.

Just ask Rachel in Boston, who recently finished a three-semester master’s program a few months later than expected. “My mom was less than thrilled that my nine classmates finished on time while I struggled to edit my final paper,” Rachel says. “When I finally finished, we had a small graduation party, and she presented me with this gem of a cake.”

Meanwhile, writes our submitter in Madison, Wisconsin: “My mother has a bit of a ‘thing’ against any sort of carbonated beverage and constantly refers to diet soda as ‘the devil’s brew.’ I recently bought a little pack of the mini-cans of Diet Coke, and left one on the computer desk. After arriving home one evening, I found that my mother had kindly re-labeled one of my empty cans for me.”

In recognition of this particular skill, Amazon.com has apparently farmed out the writing of their suggested “PayPhrases” to stay-at-home Moms across the country…as Jessica in California noticed, on a double-take.

related: Is your blog kid-tested, Mom-approved?

According to reports we’re receiving here at PAN headquarters, it appears that proletarians with a predilection for the chocolate-cookie-caramel confection known as Twix are battling Soviet-like conditions in order to procure their precious candy bars. 

In some areas, workers are forced to pay a hefty premium (unlike the bosses and bigwigs upstairs). 

Even then, what remains for the masses is likely to be rejected, bottom-of-the-carton stock.

And in the hardest hit areas, shortages have led hungry Twix lovers to beg for mercy from The Man himself. 

(Thanks to informants Sean in Philadelphia, Rachel in Salt Lake City, and Mark in Buffalo.)

related: Comrades, take notice!

extra credit: Twix bars unfairly taxed in Colorado? [WSJ.com]

Jessica from Halifax was perusing the comment board of a small restaurant on Salt Spring Island, B.C. when she  spotted this tasty tale of shellfish-related woe.

Meanwhile, Charlie found this scary story (and the impressively deadpan response) pinned to the comment board at the River Street Whole Foods in Cambridge, Mass.

related: The EGG SALAD BAN

So, KC in Washington, D.C. has a blog, which her mother reads and finds “somewhat amusing, to an extent.” Not everything KC writes meets with Mom’s approval, however.

“She never lectures me,” KC says. “Instead, she post-it notes her grievances and puts them in places I have no other choice but to look at” — a Kix cereal box, for example. (Which I have to admit, I find pretty goddamn adorable.)

related: Sometimes, Mom is (actually, maybe, a little bit) right.

Thank you, Mom, for really trying to not say cuss words around me.