Behold, the power of the Park Slope Parents! Do you dare to open a restaurant in Park Slope without a kid's menu? Oh, you will have a kid's menu. You most certainly will.

The Park Slope Food Coop's manager thinks Barneys is breaking the law with the name of its lower-priced extension, which is coming to Brooklyn this September.

Gorilla Coffee—Park Slope coffee house and bean supplier to indie Brooklyn dripperies—appears to have suffered a total employee walk-out last night. What kind of sweatshop was their "oppressive hipster-in-chief" (a local blog's designation) running?

FYI, parents: It's not just Maclaren strollers that will steal your child's precious fingertips; Graco has also issued a stroller recall after chopping five kids' fingers off. Will Aidyn and Madelynne never know the joys of ten-digit masturbation? [Pic via]

Here's a map of Park Slope—brave, bourgiest corner of Bourgie Brooklyn—where the streets are named for the rear-window college stickers found on parked cars. Odds are you'll find your own school somewhere. Maybe it was even your car!

Fancy strollermaker Maclaren just issued its stroller recall this week, but it's known its products could chop off your baby's fingers for at least five years now. Why does Maclaren want Park Slope's streets littered with tiny digits? [NYP]

Why does the average Park Slope parent enjoy pushing around their vulnerable young children, Daffodil and Ainsley, in a stroller that could, at any moment, chop off their tiny defenseless fingers?

The New York Times ran a piece in this weekend's Metropolitan containing every awesome, incredibly true cliche about BoBo Brooklyn. It will stand as a definitive document of Our Era in Kings. It's about someone getting banned from the Co-Op.

Is there anything more symbolic of the American summer than the ice cream man? No! But some people hate the ice cream man. Who? Dang food-Nazi parents, that's who! Especially one whose Brooklyn restaurant serves deep-fried candy bars to children!

Amy Sohn sent us a copy of her new book Prospect Park West which Sarah Jessica Parker is making it into an HBO series even though she wouldn't be caught dead living there. So, what's it like?

Preparing to leave Park Slope, my 'hood of two years, next week, I'm reminded this morning of how silly/wonderful a place it can be. Its members-only supermarket, the Park Slope Food Co-Op? Makes everyone work. Even celebrities, like Adrian Grenier!

Speculation regarding Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick moving into ginormous Park Slope digs was wrong! Via some crack NYT investigative reporting, Brooklyn teasing, and reportage bragging, the occupants who ended up in it are just as interesting: Google Bazillionaires.

We knew there was a reason we're leaving the neighborhood. Sarah Jessica Parker and her mighty steed Matthew Broderick might be movin' on over to Park Slope. The New York Post thinks they've found the family's apartment.

The perpetually put-upon parents of Park Slope have yet another outrage to face! Already battling listserv fees and fighting sexist hats, the yups must now contend with dogs trying to eat their babies!

"Park Slope Parents," the Brooklyn listserv, is in the midst of a civil war between yuppie parents and list moderators. One combatant finally just snapped, and she's shared her rant with us.

The stroller-and-laptop-wielding factions of Park Slope have not yet broken out into open rebellion in the streets over the Park Slop Parents Messageboard Fee Outrage, although a splinter group may be increasing the palpable tension:

This bitter war over a fee(!) to post on the Park Slope Parents listserv is perfectly in character. Park Slope is where New York's most annoying parents sequester themselves in a twee, self-important doombubble.

Hey, fey Park Slope stay-at-home dad who's taking care of the kids and cooking dinner because you've been freed from the yoke of oppressive gender roles: your wife wants to fuck a real man! A swarthy, hard-drinking, two-timing, emotionally distant sex hound who's not going to stop in the middle of things and think…