Greenpoint
Lorven Pharmacy
Culture on the Cheap
New York Shitty Day Ender: Saturday Night In Greenpoint
This nook— or would that be cranny— on Green Street has become a very popular place for our increasing homeless population to get a little al fresco shut-eye. Perhaps the Viridian could take him in? They have the space to share. Let’s put this nondo to good use!*
Miss Heather
*This week I had an epiphany regarding the multitude of half-completed/bankrupt apartment buildings in north Brooklyn. We, as citizens, should not be rewarding these chaps by bailing them out with our tax dollars with no strings attached, e.g.; if said properties do indeed turn a profit we’ll see no return on our investment. (Which is exactly what the HARP plan will do). We should convert them into for profit prisons and homeless shelters. Greenpoint has pretty much become one (of many) dumping grounds for Manhattan’s “undesirables”— why not make a few bucks off it? Beside, convicted felons *cough*Â *Madoff* deserve scenic Manhattan views, a doorman, swimming pool and balconies too!
From The New York Shitty Inbox: Happenings At The Greenpoint Hotel
Those of you who were keeping an eye on Brownstoner yesterday probably noticed a post entitled “Seedy Greenpoint Hotel Changes Hands“. Yes, it would appear our favorite flophouse has exchanged hands (along with a few “adjoining parcels”). For those of you who are keeping count this is the third time this establishment has changed owners in ten years.
Naturally it didn’t take long for something to find its way to my inbox— and it isn’t pretty. Laura writes:
Hi Heather! According to a neighboring store owner, the Greenpoint Hotel is being taken over by another landlord. According to tenants, it’s posted in the Hotel lobby. They also claim that as tenants leave, the rest are being shifted to one side of the building. Why? When all the tenants are gone, it’s going to be some sort of rehab facility. We really need to find out if that’s true. If so, N. Greenpoint is F&%cked
So let me get this straight: they’re moving the residents of this hotel— a number of whom have substance abuse problems— to one part of the building so as to (presumably) start a rehab facility in the other? This is diabolically clever. Not only has this property come with a built-in clientele base but if/when this (rumored) rehab facility opens their patients won’t have to go far to get a fix. It’s right across the hall! Genius!!!
If anyone has heard anything that affirms or refutes Laura’s tome please leave them via comments or send ’em to me via email at: missheather (at) thatgreenpointblog (dot) com. Thanks!
Miss Heather
New York Shitty Day Starter: Coming At You From Greenpoint
Filed under: 11101, 11222, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic, Long Island City, Newtown Creek, Queens
My buddy Larry da Junkman has been involved in a number of very interesting projects lately. Follows is a snippet of one of them. It is part of an ongoing collaboration with the Vole Show and is entitled Think Tanking: Journey To The Newtown Creek Nature Walk Part 2. Larry’s daughter (clad in fairy wings and a tiara no less) steals the show. Enjoy!
I can hardly wait to see what these madmen come up with next.
Miss Heather
New York Shitty Day Ender: Impressive
Filed under: 11222, Advanced Life Forms, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic
Tonight the Mister and I took a short stroll around the Garden Spot. During our jaunt we stumbled upon something most unexpected and delightful. Something which cannot adequately be described in words.
Fortunately I had my camera on me.
The Mister really liked the disco balls.
Those of you who are out and about this evening (or tomorrow morning) can find this ride cum objet d’art in front of Belvedere XX on India Street (between Manhattan Avenue and McGuinness Boulevard— closer to McGuinness). Check it out— photographs hardly do it justice.
Miss Heather
Lost In Greenpoint: Joey
As Tony commented in a previous post this seems to be the season for lost cats. This certainly does appear to be the case— as I discovered yesterday during my leisurely stroll along Meeker Avenue.
This handsome chap is named Joey. He calls the “Hausman Street area” his stomping grounds. If anyone has seen him or knows of his whereabouts please contact his family at the above-listed telephone numbers.
Thanks!
Miss Heather
Greenpoint Survival Tip: A Raccoon Is NOT a Cat
Last night at around 11:30 p.m. the cats started to collect around my bedroom window. Sure enough, our new friend was back in search for grub. He (or she) didn’t have to look very hard as one of my neighbors (who was watching with bemused interest) tossed a large hunk of naan for his culinary pleasure.
With a dull thud this landed about nine feet from our kitchen window. I decided to take action.
Hey, don’t throw food for him to eat!
I shouted.
What?
was his reply.
Me: DO NOT GIVE THIS ANIMAL FOOD. It is a raccoon.
Neighbor: ?
Me: IT IS A RACCOON.
Neighbor: What’s a raccoon?
Me: IT IS A WILD ANIMAL. It might have rabies for all we know. DON’T FEED IT!!!
Neighbor: I thought it was a cat.
Me: It’s not a cat. Don’t feed it, ok?
And with this I thought the evening’s excitement had concluded. It didn’t: my neighbor (wishing to be helpful) decided to get rid of our nocturnal visitor. His plan (throwing eggs at it) had a number of fundamental flaws. Among them:
- As I have noted previously, a raccoon is not a cat. Throwing eggs at a cat (though I have never tried it) will probably make it go away. Throwing eggs at a hungry raccoon will not. The fertilized unfertilized ovum of a domesticated fowl is not a deterrent to such a creature: it is a second course. As we both learned.
- This Good Samaritan’s aim was— how should I put it— a bit “off”. Instead of reaching its intended target his salvo skidded along the rooftop and splattered my window screen with aborted chicken goodness.
What followed has to be seen to be believed.
It took me a good five minutes of beating my maglite against the windowsill to make this scavenger go away. This din woke the Mister up and a whole new round of late night hilarity commenced. And on that note, dear readers, I am off to take up this matter with this gentleman’s landlord.
Miss Heather
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