The following is a post on the Kilmer Street Community Facebook page:

I hate to have to be a street “Karen” but the speeding on our street is getting ridiculous. I know most of us are very aware of all the walkers, runners, and small children that use our street, that have NO (I love it when people throw the all Caps in, some people actually do the all caps post which is really an attention grabber) sidewalks or any place to get out of the road, but it seems some on the street. I will be contacting Kent County Sheriff’s office tomorrow asking for increased patrols. Thank you in advance for slowing down (going 25 on our street from start to end) and keeping your friends and neighbors safe!

There is a lot to digest here. First of all, our street is about as wide as the Grand River so there is plenty of room for people to walk, run, do cartwheels, or even take a nap if they so choose. Also, if you want a sidewalk so bad go move into Grand Rapids or Kentwood you loser. As far as the calls to increase patrols, I’m not sure if Kilmer Karen (KK) for short realizes this, but the police don’t give a shit about anything these days so I’m pretty sure they may actually decrease the patrols on Kilmer from zero times a month to zero times a month. This is an example of one of the many things wrong with Facebook and Facebook kind of blows, actually it really blows, I recently tried to log in to see if someone was hot that I hadn’t met yet and I was told that I was blocked for activity that was in direct contradiction to Facebooks community standards. I don’t post anything on Facebook so I am not sure how that is even possible. However, Facebook is a platform for KK and others to rant and rave about shit that doesn’t matter or post photos or antidotes about their family that would make an outsider think that person’s life is amazing when it probably really sucks. Lastly, no one has died from getting hit by a car, let alone been hit by a car in our neighborhood so what’s the big deal? I’m an awesome driver at any speed and am confident I will never run over anyone in my neighborhood no matter how fast I go, unless they jump in front of my truck. However, I do try to be somewhat cautious going out of my neighborhood and down Kilmer due to that fact, we have droves and droves of deer who live in the area and they will jump out in front of a moving vehicle and I don’t want them damaging my truck.

Speaking of my neighborhood, I was volunteered against my will by Shirley to mow a neighbor’s lawn because the man of the house broke his toe. So, I did it, I even went back with my push mower after I ran my zero turn to hit the spots that were too dangerous to try and mow with my zero turn. Did I get a big thank you? No, I did not. In fact I actually mowed their lawn twice and when I drove Parker up to the bus the wife looked at me like she wouldn’t even piss on me if I was on fire. I immediately thought to myself, does she think I drive too fast? Does she secretly read my blog and realize I think she’s hot (I referenced her once because Max kept getting boners around her) and now she can’t even look at me because she finds my appearance objectionable and my reference to her as hot completely inappropriate? Regardless, she did ask Shirley what kind of beer I like and Shirley said not to bother because we have plenty of beer. Easy for Shirley to say, she’s not the one who risked life and limb to mow an almost complete strangers lawn.

While somewhat on the topic of Max, his happiness is much more important to me than my kids. When Max is happy I’m happy, it’s why I have spent countless hours hitting tennis balls for him in the driveway even though he rarely brings them directly back to me (he likes to fuck with me just like everyone else). When my kids are happy it usually means I have spent ungodly amounts of money. Part of Max’s happiness involves bringing him to Camp Bow Wow. He loves camp BW even more than licking where his balls use to be. When we get close to the parking lot he begins to whine in anticipation and starts moving all over the cab of my truck out of pure excitement that he is unable to contain. He has actually hurdled the entry gate before he is so excited to gain access to camp BW. A couple weeks ago they charged us for Wednesday water day even though I didn’t give them the green light to have him participate, and more importantly, they didn’t send me pictures of him participating in water day. (I did sign him up for the olympics in February and he dominated, not sure if he participated for the United States or Australia) So, this past Wednesday I brought this to their attention and they had him participate at no additional charge.

When I picked him up I did something I have never done before, they allow for a tip when you run your credit card and I gave them a tip. Not to brag, but we pay $35 every time Max attends camp BW. This really added up when we were doing our remodel (not to brag again) and Max constantly tried to herd our builder. You just can’t get the shepherd out of him no matter how hard you try. I’ve continually hit the no tip button with zero remorse due to the fact that these people get to hang out with dogs all day and I have to spend my time with the dregs of society (criminal defense attorneys) as well as criminals. Should I feel bad that I have never tipped before? Should I feel bad that when I get takeout I never tip? I’m doing the work, I’m driving to get the food and taking it back home, if anyone should get a tip, it should be me.

Speaking of my kids who don’t seem to care about my happiness even thought they are right below Max on the food chain, Parker was already complaining about going to school this morning. Ok, he was more complaining that when he asked me where I was going I said the gym. He said to me “you don’t do anything”. My response to him was “How do you know what I do?” I’ve found asking a question in response to a statement that is alarmingly truthful is typically the way to go. He then proceeded to say all I do when I go to work is lose. This statement was so factually accurate I couldn’t even come up with a question in response. Not that I feel any guilt about my devotion to Max, but this interaction coupled with the fact that he is the only one happy to see me when I get home from whatever I am doing, makes me realize dogs are truly a man’s best friend.