Greenpoint
Lorven Pharmacy
Culture on the Cheap
Bushwick Apartment For Rent: Chicken Lovers’ Special
Bushwick chicken lovers rejoice, Miss Heather has found the apartment for you! Where, you ask? Where else: that magical place called Craigslist!
I don’t know, $1,400 sounds like an awful lot of money for this neighborhood. Chickens or not. I cry fowl.
Miss Heather
P.S.: Thanks for passing this along James. This made my day.
Williamsburg Needs Neuticles!
Filed under: 11211, Crazy People, East Williamsburg, East Williamsburg Brooklyn, Williamsburg, Williamsburg Brooklyn
I came across the above sticker yesterday on Maspeth Avenue west of Olive Street. Amused, I took a photo of it. I had my suspicions as to what “Neuticles” were, so upon arriving home I immediately Googled it. They were exactly what I thought they would be (from neuticles.com):
Over 225,000 caring pet owners Worldwide have selected Neuticles as a safe, practical and inexpensive option when neutering.
Neuticles allowing your pet to retain his natural look, self esteem and aids in the trauma associated with neutering.
I spent an hour perusing this web site. I advise you, dear readers, to do the same. It is a comedy goldmine:
Neuticles are just plain neat!
—Rush Limbaugh
I wonder when Rush saw fit to lavish this praise upon Neuticles? Was it before or after he got caught with that illicit bottle of Viagra? If he had followed his own advice and got himself some Neuticles Rush might not have found himself in the previous predicament. He also would have spared the American people a lot of pain and suffering thinking about his bloated sack of pus hot air having sex.
Believe it or not, the “satisfied customers section” is even better:
I’ve put off neutering “Crooked Joe” for months and when I found out about Neuticles and spoke to them it made me feel better about neutering. Joe not only looks the same now- but dosen’t know he’s missing anything.
He’s a guy and I wanted him to remain looking like one.
And my personal favorite:
Frodo never knew he lost anything and is just a happier little dog since he’s been neutered with Neuticles.
Perhaps the previous pet owner should rename her canine companion Scroto Baggins? Just a thought.
Those of you who are interested in this product should be advised that the (s)experts at Neuticles have a vast assortment of nut bags for you to choose from. The budget conscious ball sack connoisseur can purchase the basic, no frills “Original” model, the more effete testicular snob can spend a little extra and get the “Ultraplus” model with Scargard.
Sizes range from XL, for pets weighing 110-190 pounds (in which case one nut will cost you $189 or you can get a pair for $269) to XS, for pets weighing 3-8 pounds (in which case one nutlet will set you back $59 or a pair can be had for a measly $94). What a bargain!
Cat owners, don’t despair: they have the perfect pair of balls for your pussy. All you need to do is grab that mouse, point and click! All major credit cards are accepted.
In closing, I have to confess that I have developed Neuticle envy while writing this post. Yesterday I walked to Artist & Craftsman Supply to buy some paper mache. Such is the real estate hoax of pimping Greenpoint as being an ‘artistic’ neighborhood: artists may reside here, but there are no longer any stores here to facilitate their (my, our) habit. North Brooklyn:
Be an artist or just look like one!
So off to East Williamsburg I went. And in so doing, I became the unwitting (and unwilling) object of affection for a number of fellows along the way. Hisses, whistles and yelling greeted me as I approached the BQE. As I recounted to a friend of mine later:
…my trek to the art supply store on Metropolitan Avenue and back was a gauntlet of hisses and whistles. One especially creepy guy beckoned for me to come over to his van (!!!) and talk to him. This was on Meeker (by the BQE), which made the situation even creepier. I am fucking 30-something years old. I am NOT going to walk over to some stranger’s van and to talk to him. Much less by the BQE. The previous scenario has “coming to the back of a milk carton near you” written all over it.
Perhaps if I had a pair of Neuticles, the previous chap would have left me alone? I don’t want the “XS” model either. I want ’em SO BIG I’ll need a handtruck to carry them.
Miss Heather
Putting the “Shit” In New York Shitty
I was forwarded this shitastic link by my fantastic buddy Judy over at Dategirl. It is so utterly stupid and revolting I have seen fit to feature it here on New York Shitty. I present to you, dear readers, a sampling from Diaper Free Adventures. An adventure in faux hippie crap trap and bad spelling:
My husband and I went to Williamsburg yesterday to get some good coffee at Verb and some militant vegan food at Foodswings. The L train was moderatley crowded with no seats left in which to sit, but not too many people standing. In these situations I do not do EC. I am too embarassed to take my son out of his carrier, unclip the potty from my bookbag, pull off his little gray sweatpants, open his diaper, lift him over the red potty and say, “Pssss. Pee-pee” into his ear.
This is beyond my comprehension:
- Verb coffee sucks ass. Their service is even worse.
- I am damned close to being a vegan, yet never profess to eat “militant vegan food”. This phrase even pisses me off.
- There are enough people, grown-ups no less, who piss on the L train as is. This woman’s entitled cunt dumpling does not need contribute to this nuisance.
Perhaps she is training her son to be a crazy homeless person? This would make sense given all the fucked shit she has probably (already?) filled his little head with and the state of the U.S. economy. After flunking out at the fry vat at Mickey D’s I am certain he’ll take to ranting and raving on Greenpoint Avenue like a natural. Pissing and shitting all over the place. Just like a pro. Just like mom taught him!
Pssss. Pee-pee!
Miss Heather
Ask A Greenpointer Gets Its First Question!
Filed under: Crazy People
It would appear that Bert is back and he has a few questions for me to answer. Here they are.
Bert: You just don’t fucking get it do you?
Miss Heather: No I don’t “get it”. In order to “get” whatever your angry missive is about would require that I be a bitter, myopic person whose only solace is lashing out at total strangers via the Internets. Only an idiot would believe blogs have the power to gentrify a neighborhood. It’s actually the other way around: blogs are an indicator of gentrification.
Bert: Why don’t you go back to wherever the fuck you came form and stop ruining our neighborhood?
Miss Heather: I have considered your request and have decided to stay here, thanks. I wish to continue “ruining” this neighborhood by making people laugh, helping my fellow Greenpointers learn more about the neighborhood they live in and embarrassing the Department of Buildings into actually doing their job.
What have you done for this neighborhood, Bert? I didn’t see you at the Mayor’s meeting October 4th. Perhaps you were too busy being an artiste to take the time to educate yourself about community affairs. Then again, why should you? You obviously know it all already.
Bert: Did you ever bother to ask any of the people who lived here before you came along if they would mind you posting a blog about Greenpoint?
Miss Heather: Actually I did chat with a few people I know here before starting New York Shitty. They all said “go for it”. Even if they had panned the idea I would have created New York Shitty anyway because:
- My flights of fancy and right to free speech are not dependent on the approval of others. Especially narrow-minded people who lack vision. People like you.
- I enjoying writing and making art. I create. It takes a thick skin to put your work out there for all to see. I’ve done it before and I’ll be doing it again. Soon: I have had a piece accepted to a juried show. You, on the other hand, profess to be an artist, yet, you have nothing better to do than send nasty emails berating someone else’s work. Perhaps you should redirect this energy towards something constructive? That’s what they should have taught you in art school.
Bert: Why don’t you ask yourself why you are such a selfish attention grabbing poser.
Miss Heather: The attention I have received is the reward for a LOT of hard work and dedication. This blog is a labor of love. I would continue doing it even if it didn’t get as much attention as it (occasionally) does. Conversely, sending an email like above turd to a total stranger strikes me as being an act of selfish attention grabbing.
You’ve got my attention, Bert. Do you feel better now? I don’t. I feel sorry for you.
Since you have made it very apparent you are incapable of behaving like a mature adult, Bert, why don’t you go play with your trains and leave me alone? You are not going to “win” whatever argument you are trying to start with me. Give up and grow up.
I hope the above answers have proven to be helpful. If not, you might like to check out Greenpointers and read what they have to say.
Miss Heather
Housebuilder For Hire
Those of you seeking to build a new house might want to head down to the intersection of Greenpoint and Manhattan Avenue. Word on the street is you might find someone eager to help you.
Provided you’re not Italian, of course. The author of today’s helping of what the fuck left no contact information, but I bet he’ll be back to post a new “lettre” once he figures out Guiliani is no longer in office.
Miss Heather
P.S.: It’s refreshing to see that this chap likes America. I thought everyone fucking hated us.
Poor Brandon
I have had my share of bad neighbors. Crack heads, manic depressives, filth-mongers, a wailing nympho* and a likely prostitute just to name a few. Thankfully, as of the writing of this post my existence is relatively nuisance free. Relatively.
You see, I have a neighbor who likes to talk on the phone. She also likes to smoke cigarettes or low grade weed while doing so. But she does not, however, like to smoke in her apartment (given how foul smelling that last spliff was, I can’t say I blame her), so she takes her telephone and smokes to the area behind her apartment.
I have listened, albeit unwillingly, to a number of her marathon telephone sessions. If the sheer amount of time she spends talking to people is any indication, she must be pretty popular. She sounds like a nice enough person— and that’s why I enjoy hearing the latest developments in her life. Mile stones like:
- Having a nose job.
- Getting a boyfriend.
- Bra shopping. For the record she likes under wire soft cup bras with no padding. Victoria’s Secret is her favorite place to buy under garments. Too bad I don’t know who her boyfriend is or I would tell him that. The holiday season is just around the corner, you know.
I mention the above anecdote because (after learning about it on Curbed yesterday) I have a confession to make: I am addicted to rottenneighbor.com. Last night I spent over an hour trolling bad neighbor horror stories and believe it or not Greenpoint has quite a few. By far my favorite (and easily the most disturbing) tale is the case of poor Brandon on Leonard Street. A disgruntled neighbor writes:
Brandon is a kid who live(s) with his grandmother and grandfather, (in their 40s), and grandma yells ALL DAY LONG, and when she is not yelling, Ralphie, their little yip dog, stands by the door and barks at no one. In addition to yelling at Brandon through the door intercom system, she yells at Brandon inside. Daily phrases include, “shut the F–K up, Brandon,” “get the F–K in bed, Brandon,” and “pick up your F—ING S–T, Brandon.” The all time favorite, however, was “you wanna’ go live wi’cha mom in the ghetto?” There is lots of dog feces on the sidewalk, and Brandon’s grandparents make life pretty unbearable at times.
Um, this sounds like something that should be reported to ACS. As for the dog feces on the sidewalk, well, I see smell a field trip coming!
Miss Heather
*This woman was like clockwork: 10:00, 12:00, and 4:00 (a.m. or p.m.) every Saturday. One night she was really on a roll. Her consort was clearly hitting all the sweet spots. Feeling impish, I opened up the window and mimicked every moan she made. Soon, my next door neighbor (a very nice woman who has since moved) joined in. For a full five minutes it was a non-stop chorus of moaning and “Oh Gods” occasionally puntuated with a “Yee Haw” and “Yippie Ki Yay”.
What can I say? I AM from Texas after all.
The Brooklyn Paper: Paragon of Journalism
This evening I had the pleasure of reading a turd from the above shit heap of a newspaper. It was forwarded to me via the Newtown Creek Alliance. They wrote:
I’m sorry to see the nature walk is getting severely trashed.
Initially I was going to write back and say “What do you expect, it’s The Brooklyn Paper?” I decided against it. I think my fellow Greenpointers should see how utterly shitty their product and journalistic standards are. For this reason I present to you, dear readers, the following article from the September 22, 2007 edition of The Brooklyn Paper…
Something stinks — hey, it’s this park!
Up for a nature walk? The newest one is right there next to the sewage treatment plant.
This counterintuitive park project comes courtesy of the Department of Environmental Protection, which spent $3.2 million to build a gorgeous walkway next to the Newtown Creek sludge plant.
No, it’s not a joke — though some locals are treating it as such.
“I say we toilet paper their park — after all, they made our neighborhood smell like a toilet,†wrote one poster on Curbed.com, which labeled it “the crappiest park in Brooklyn.â€
Other posts took advantage of the irony to use a common barnyard expletive that is often used as a slang term for feces.
The DEP wouldn’t dignify those kinds of potty-mouth comments, but did say that the park will be a wonderful amenity for the community and that most people will appreciate it.
The plant, which is known for those funky (both stylistically and, it must be said, odoriferously), egg-shaped domes, occupies a few dozen square blocks along the oil-filled creek north of Greenpoint Avenue.
Would-be nature walkers will enter the pathway from Paidge Avenue and Provost Street, and enjoy landscaping that includes trees, shrubs, waterfront seating, wetland grasses and perennial flowers and plants — plus a wall separating all that nature from the sewage plant on the other side.
The pathway is just the first phase of a DEP effort to provide access to the waterfront, the agency said. The next two phases will be completed over five years and extend the path all the way to North Henry Street.
It couldn’t come at a better — or worse time. The federal Environmental Protection Agency reported last week that a massive oil spill that has been seeping under the Newtown Creek area since the 1950s may be twice as big as once suspected.
The DEP will unveil the first phase of the Greenpoint Nature Walk along the waterfront that separates Brooklyn and Queens next week.
Something Sucks — it’s The Brooklyn Paper!
It’s easy to criticize a park when you (and you know who you are) are sitting on your fat ass in Park Slope trying to figure out how to capitalize on the Garden Spot. It’s “hip”. It’s “young”. It’s so… not you, Brooklyn Paper.
Is it just me or does the Smells like Teen Spirit North Brooklyn edition of The Brooklyn Paper sport very little content actually regarding North Brooklyn? It’s usually a few week-old stories and a bunch of other stuff we could care less about. All they— and by they I mean The Brooklyn Paper want to do to is up their circulation numbers so can boost their advertising revenue (yes, I worked in publishing once, surprise!). The fact they are using us to do it makes me angry to no end.
But back to journalistic integrity (or lack thereof). We all know using a comment board on someone else’s blog (READ: Curbed) is the best way to get the word on the street in Greenpoint. A community which, inconveniently enough, is largely populated with blue-collar people without Internets. That’s why unsubstantial shit like the following makes it to print:
I say we toilet paper their park, after all they made our neighborhood smell like a toilet.
God forbid a reporter from The Brooklyn Paper actually set foot in the Garden Garbage Spot and ask us, the revolting peasants we are, what we think. That would entail riding the G TRAIN and doing ACTUAL REPORTING. We might prove to be intelligent. Or find The Brooklyn Paper to be a joke. And we do, by the way.
As a Greenpointer (who converses with other Greenpointers every day) here is a general consensus of what we think the park:
- Yes, we think a park next to a sewage treatment plant is funny. Who wouldn’t?
- Do we think it is a P.R. ploy by the D.E.P.? DUH!
- North Greenpoint has no parks whatsoever. A few of us have the temerity to like it. It is all we got. It is better designed than most of the condominiums going up around us, but The Brooklyn Paper wouldn’t print that. They didn’t see fit to print this either:
More thought, design, materials and over all aesthetics have been put into this Taj Mahal of Poop Processing than all the crappy chrome and glass condos all over the G-point & the Burg.
Somehow the crack reporter for The Brooklyn Paper saw fit to overlook this comment (also from Curbed). I wonder why?
The truth of the matter is a number of things make my neighborhood stink. You have the waste treatment plant, sewage overruns, illegal dumping and Newtown Creek. You cannot separate one from the other. I can, however, state with certainty that The Brooklyn Paper’s attempt at capitalizing off Greenpoint’s misfortune (and ridiculing us in the process) reeks the most.
And as any Greenpointer knows, shit floats.
Miss Heather
P.S.: Those of you who want additional giggles at this paper’s expense should read this article. For reasons beyond my comprehension it turned up on outside.in under Greenpoint. It is about how local video stores are suffering at the hands of Netflix. Strangely enough, Photoplay, a Greenpoint institution (which recently expanded into a larger space) is not mentioned. Hmm.
110 Green Street Speaks…
about Miss Heather’s intelligence (or lack thereof), her husband’s infidelities and much, much more!
I had honestly not planned on posting much today. After an eight hour long fiasco at La Guardia airport yesterday (which culminated in me coming back home and missing my sister in law’s wedding), I am exhausted. What’s more, I had no idea what to write about. Thankfully, someone who appears to work at 110 Green Street has provided me ample fodder.
Before I continue I want to say I really value the comments I get on New York Shitty. We may not all know each other (or agree), but it is nice to see Greenpointers exchanging ideas and neighborhood intelligence. It gives me some hope that the sense of community here might survive the many (and mostly BAD) changes this neighborhood is currently undergoing.
Conversely, I have no time whatsoever for abusive comments or the people who post them. The previous people should start their own blogs because their rubbish is not going to see the light of day on mine. Save the following nut job. Not only did he see fit to spend the wee hours of the morning hurtling semi-literate abuse my direction, but he also gave his employer (presumably 110 Green Street) more negative publicity than I could ever dream of dishing out!
Ready for some 110 Green Street nastiness? Strap on your safety helmets folks, it’s gonna be a rough ride!
#1. Regarding Seeing Double at 110 Green Street; posted at 2:27 a.m. PST
I fail to see what my having a job or not (I do, by the way) has to do with this company’s disregard for the safety and overall well-being of its neighbors.
#2 Regarding Greenpoint: The Napping Spot; posted at 2:41 a.m. PST
Not the last time I checked. But if I am can I get a job at 110 Green? Just curious.
#3 Regarding Seeing Double at 110 Green Street (again); posted at 2:50 a.m. PST
What’s with this man’s preoccupation with people having a “real JOB”? I guess anyone who isn’t hired to build cheaply made “luxury” condominiums (poke holes into adjacent buildings and pour cement only to jackhammer it back up a week or two later) does not have, in his unique little world view, a “real JOB.” Who knew? I didn’t. But how would I? It has already been established that I am mentally retarded. Perhaps that’s why I don’t have a “real JOB”?
#4 Regarding Hello Suckers; posted at 3:05 a.m. PST
You know, this chap might have a point. I probably was the biggest asshole in Greenpoint (which is one word, by the way). WAS. I have been deposed. I’ll give you, dear readers, three guesses by whom.
Thanks again for the writing material “Hammmer38”. If it wasn’t for you today’s offerings would have been kind of dull. I am certain your employer will also thank you for the articulate and professional face you have given his business. With employees like you, who needs enemies?
Miss Heather
P.S.: My husband may be a philanderer, but he is also a Senior Systems Administrator at an Ivy League University. I have charged him with tracing this chap’s IP address. I can hardly wait to learn who this guy is.
UPDATE, 9/25/07: As it would happen, I walked by 110 Green Street Monday, September 24th. The time was 7:25 p.m.
Business as usual. Wonder if they have a variance to work this late? Probably not. It’s not like they’ve let trivial matters like that bother them before.
Explosive Gas & A Bunch of Hot Air
Filed under: Bum Shit, Crazy People, Dung of the Day, Greenpoint Magic, Other Shit
Last week I came across a comment* on the Gowanus Lounge from an oil spill disbeliever (yes, they really do exist). I couldn’t help but snicker when I read this:
…As for the explosive gas, it was Keyspan natural gas lines that needed to be repaired, not the oil spill.
Maybe he’s right? It’s something else. Just this weekend I saw the remains of a massive explosion on Java Street.
It’s the Greenpoint Chili Relleno Spill! Maybe I should contact the EPA and request a vapor test be conducted?
Miss Heather
*Be sure to check out the novel this whack job defender of Greenpoint’s virtue wrote in response to my rebuttal. It’s a hoot! Be sure to strap on your tin foil hat first so the many conspirators behind the vast smear campaign that is the GREENPOINT OIL SPILL won’t come to get you!
Mildly Disturbing Image of the Day
I got a chuckle out of this skewed fire hydrant on Guernsey Street last night. If I had a dollar for every piece of property I have seen that was mowed down or jacked-up by the shitty drivers here,* I’d be a very wealthy woman.
Shouldn’t these things have water in them or something? Filling fire hydrants with petroleum strikes me as being counter-productive. Then again, this IS Greenpoint.
Miss Heather
*If you’re wondering, my favorite to date was the clock in front of the Garden. Remember that? It was up-ended by a truck and the driver elected to take it with him.
NYS Flickr Pool
