Dear uptight white woman who yelled at me from her driveway today as I passed with my dogs–
I hesitate to use the term Karen because I know and love several WONDERFUL women named Karen, and to call you “a Karen” would be giving you too much affection.
But I think everybody gets the idea.
Anyway, I was carrying one of my dogs and keeping my other dogs off your lawn after you yelled at me from your driveway as I was passing by, and I didn’t really assimilate what you were yelling at me about until after you huffed off.
So let me see if I can address your damage.
First of all, I’m sorry your dogs bark and wreck your home when my dogs walk the sidewalk in front of your house. My dogs frequently bark at people from the house–the UPS guy, the Amazon delivery guy, cats coming in from the backyard–I usually make the assumption that this behavior is either the dogs’ fault for being idiot dogs or my fault for not training the idiot dog well enough. I do not–repeat NOT– blame the UPS or USPS or Amazon people, because they are just doing their jobs. Much like my dogs are just doing theirs when I walk them.
As a caveat here, I’d like to ask “You let them destroy the house?” I myself am not the most stringent of dog owners, but my dogs don’t knock stuff over or tear apart the furniture when we get mail, so that really does sound more like a “you” problem than a “me” problem.
Second of all, no, I’m NOT CROSSING THE STREET when I come by your house. Sorry. Not gonna do it. I cross the street if there’s somebody else with dogs coming near me, or a mother with a kid in a carriage because my dogs bark and that’s more comfortable, but I’m not crossing the street because your dogs INSIDE YOUR HOUSE bark at them as we walk by. I bet you expect the rain to part for you as you walk under the clouds, too, don’t you sunshine?
Third of all, after you huffed away, my daughter, who was a little ways ahead of me and heard the entire conversation, pointed out that the last time we passed your house was JANUARY 2ND, you cranky whore, so if you think my dogs have been making your dogs bark every day this week, you’ re totally fucking wrong.
And last of all–and I hesitate to bring this up because this was my daughter talking and I think she might be the teeniest protective–I would like to add that I did talk to your husband that January 2nd walk. He was cleaning up Christmas lights, and he was totally pleasant. My daughter thinks you’re feeling threatened by me, and while I’m very fat and sorta gray and not particularly fuckable, you may rest assured that I do have a man of my own and do not need yours. Although if you’re as unpleasant to him as you were to me today, I can see your worry.
So, let me see if I can restate the salient parts here:
A. I’ll deal with my dogs if you deal with yours.
B. I don’t want to fuck your husband.
C. You were a total and absolute twat.
D. If you yell at me again my adult daughter may fuck you up–that’s just a guess, but she was pretty pissed.
E. If you don’t want your dogs to tear up your house, you should maybe tell them no. Hey–it worked for us–Ginger finally stopped trying to find the vagina in all our blankets and hasn’t fucked a pillow to death for over two months now.
Thank you so much for your time–
The pissed off fat woman with all the fucking dogs