That Smell
It’s a funny thing; when I find myself wanting to be alone I go for a walk. This is what I did yesterday. No cell phone, just me and my trusty camera. I took a number of wonderful pictures, most of which have been uploaded to my Flickr page. Check them out.
When I reached 79A India Street I was assaulted by an odor SO FOUL it made me stop dead in my tracks. I looked around so as to ascertain the source of the stench. It didn’t take very long.
This melange of canine (?) crap was so nasty it literally made me gag. It was one of the worst smelling specimens I have ever found. I didn’t couldn’t record where it was located until I was safely at the end of the block.
Later on I created a little ditty about my experience (with a lot of help from my Lynyrd Skynyrd Greatest Hits CD):
Ooh that smell!
Can you smell that smell?
Ooh that smell!
The smell of shit is all around you!
Miss Heather
Italy?!?
I was recently astonished to discover that someone in Italy added me as a Flickr contact. I mean 1/3 of my photos are scatalogical in some way, shape or form and it has been my observation that poop usually doesn’t win friends or influence people. Now I am beginning to rethink this long-held assumption.
After a little digging I discovered that Italians dislike dog shit as much as we do. In fact, they make light of their crap conundrum in a manner that is unabashedly stylish and witty. Then again, how could we possibly expect anything less from country who boasts some of the finest fashion designers in the world? Shit, their country is shaped like a boot with a stylish stiletto heel for crissakes!
Miss Heather
A little piece of Green Street scenery…
for all you hip urban professionals out there who cannot afford Manhattan digs. Be advised that the developer’s rendering of 110 Green Street does not do justice to the scenic views your $400,000+ will buy. So in the interest of making an informed decision, I want to share a little slice of Green Street point life I spied yesterday afternoon with you.
I shit you not, this dude was asleep (passed out?) as the pile driver (seen behind the tree in the above photo) continued its aural assault on everyone who has the misfortune of living within earshot of it. Which (from what I can tell) is pretty much anywhere within a 3-4 block radius, myself included. All you homebuyers better take note, as this dude is clearly very serious about getting first whack at this great real estate opportunity.
And oh yeah, be sure to practice safe sex while you wait! 111 Green Street is already feeling the magic, how about you?
Miss Heather
P.S.: For those of you who may wonder why I have a ‘thing’ for 110 Green, read on. Just over a week ago I told my upstairs neighbor, who I will call Yessenia a (fan-fucking-tabulous) Puerto Rican woman who has resided in my building much longer than myself, about Magic’s— uh— magic. Her question was “So how are the people here going to afford it?”
To wit I said:
They can’t. This 130 unit condominium building is (per the developer) directed towards affluent young families who cannot afford to buy in Manhattan.
Which brings me to this. I knocked around this site (albeit lackadaisically) and no mention of 110 Green was to be found. I think revitalizing ‘inner cities’ and ‘under-served communities’ is a good cause. The fly in my proverbial ointment is though Greenpoint may be ‘under-served’ it is NOT ‘inner-city’— or to use the common moniker nowadays: ‘blighted’.
The crimes committed against my (otherwise very vibrant) community are countless and I doubt the culprits (READ: Exxon-Mobil, our elected officials, et. al.) will ever be held accountable. A 130 unit ‘luxury’ condominium building on Green Street is not going to change this. Much less encourage ‘diversity’. “Yessenia” put it perfectly when she told me the following Puerto Rican proverb:
The last one at the table is the first one to eat.
Earvin “Magic” Johnson’s financing ‘urban renewal’ in Greenpoint is facilitating (to bastardize Clarence Thomas) minority removal.
Bon appetit, Magic!
Greenpoint likes to throw them some D’s
Yesterday evening after meeting a buddy of mine for dinner, my husband and I decided to walk home. This seemingly insignificant decision netted me a real prize.
I found this trace of turd terrorism in the barren no man’s land between north Williamsburg and Greenpoint: Berry at N. 11th Street. Moving forward, I would like to suggest that this poster be used as the demarcation point between the two ‘hoods because throwing one’s (or someone else’s) “D’s” into another person’s face is exclusively a Greenpoint avocation. While anthropologists fret over our simian brethren’s ability to make tools, we are furiously throwing the fiercest fucking D’s on the East Coast! Long live the Devolution!
Miss Heather
P.S.: Although dung throwing is perfectly acceptable, be advised that Greenpoint has an explicit anti-fart policy, so mind your fucking manners.
Brownfinger
As I was parsing through my inbox this week I came across a compelling question from one of my commentors. Dupreciate’s email read as follows.
While we’re chattin, I was wondering if you’ve seen this short/doc series yet:
http://www.vbs.tv/shows/index.php?show=Toxic%20Brooklyn
Has less to do with dog poop and more with crude oil – interested in your take on the ordeal.
While I could have answered his question in two or three sentences, I was feeling chatty and contemplative this particular morning. As a result, “Dupreciate” got a two to three paragraph missive that eventually degenerated into a balf-baked Socialist/sociological rant to savor over his lunch hour. While far from perfect, I believe this tome merits sharing. Here it is, in all its abject glory…
Hey, I just watched episode #2 of this series and got the general gist. Although I do not make it very explicit on my blog, I am appalled by all the irresponsible development going on both in Williamsburg and Greenpoint. Although the previous sentence may sound like some vague bullshit statement, I chose my words (READ: irresponsible) very carefully, as it encompasses a variety of very troublesome issues, not just the oil spill. Here are a few of them:
Simply put, the practice of trusting the developers police themselves needs to stop. If Scarano and the number of properties damaged by shoddy construction practices (like 106 Green Street) does not attest to the need for strong government intervention, nothing does.
If these very people cannot be trusted to erect a building that is in compliance with building code and zoning laws, why the fuck should we expect them to give a damn about the environmental hazards that may or may not be present underneath them? Soil testing (as I understand it) is not mandatory. It should be. Petroleum is not the only toxin that we should be concerned about. For example, there was once a Paris Green manufacturer near McCarren Park. I do not expect you to know what “Paris Green†is, so I will tell you: it is a very toxic paint that was popular during the Victorian era. If my memory serves me correctly, arsenic is one of its by-products. Or it was cyanide? I do not remember which.
If you want to scare yourself shitless, go through the Brooklyn Daily Eagle archives and run a search on all the industrial accidents that have occurred in the north Brooklyn area. Mind you, that’s only what merited reporting. This does not include 150 years+ of surreptitious illegal dumping.
About a year ago I read an interesting book about how the slums in Detroit came into existence. Although there were a number of city-specific factors at play (like the demise of the American auto industry), there are others that I find relevant to what is going on not only in North Brooklyn, but in NYC at large. I am talking about the destruction/neglect of affordable rental property. One of the biggest mistakes Detroit made was its (over)development of properties for sale at the expense of rental property. They let the inner city decay as the ‘burbs flourished.
I strongly suspect the ‘luxury housing’ that is being built here is going to make slums flourish as well. Once you render a neighborhood prohibitively expensive to the middle class (which is the backbone of Manhattan’s workforce— and I consider any family whose yearly income is $45,000 – $100,000 as being ‘middle class’), they move further out. This completely undermines the purpose of rent-stabilization— which is largely responsible for PREVENTING New York City from becoming another Detroit. Pardon my pinko thinking, but once a city begins to neglect the core of its worker-force, a whole lotta bad is going to follow.
Speaking for myself, the properties that have been razed in my ‘nabe have facilitated crime. About ¼ of my block has ceased to exist, and the result is my having to shoo junkies from hanging out on my stoop. Magic Johnson’s condos are not going to fix this social problem. If anything, it is only going to make it worse. I find it impossible to believe that they are going to dredge up 130 families to buy into this monstrousity. So, the property (and many others like it) will probably have high vacancy rates. High vacancy rates = high crime.
All the while, the working class and elderly (who sorely need housing and add value to the neighborhood at large) are being driven out in droves. This is more than a little depressing. My husband and I often wonder if/when we’ll be next. I hope this long-winded socialist tome has given you a clear picture of my take on this subject.
H
I am neither a city planner nor an economist, but it doesn’t take a so-called expert to recognize the rapacious land speculation that is going on in north Brooklyn (or all of Brooklyn, for that matter). Not unlike the barons of industry before them, these land jobbers are squeezing our neighborhood down to the last dollar, quality of life (or inadequate infrastructure) be damned. Thus, the finger buildings will continue rise until it is no longer in the developer’s financial interest to build them.
Even Williamsburg’s canines have caught ‘finger fever’. I guess the real estate there has gotten so expensive, even the dogs have to maximize their air rights.
I found this ‘Turdhenge’ at 111 N. 4th Street. Note the mezzanine on the turd to the right. Not to be outdone, Greenpoint has also gotten high-rise hysteria. As I noticed at 200 Franklin Street yesterday.
I wonder if this ‘product’ is part of the new waterfront (re-zoning) I have heard so much about?
Miss Heather
My neighbor is hilarious
Today I was showing my mother a few blogs I like to read, including one written by my upstairs neighbor HQ. This man has the cutest fucking dog in all of Greenpoint (and perhaps in all the world): Magellan. I wanted my mother to see a photo of him.
Pretty damn cute, huh? Well, apparently under this cute exterior lies the mind of a mischievious little shit.
The above photo is a little taste of the goodness featured in this post. Do read it. It is very, very funny.
Miss Heather
Photo Credit: HQ
Doppeldung
I have been crazy busy of late. Not only do I have my Forgotten-NY post to draft, dog shit to document, kitty cats to capture and the endemic insanity that permeates my existence to moderate, but I have also had to do all the previous while entertaining a series of family members who have decided to pay our fine city, the one and only New York Shitty, a visit. Mayor Bloomberg should give me a kickback for all the tourism revenue I have generated. Seriously.
It has long been my desire to erect a shitcam so I can document the gradual deterioration of an errant piece of dog poo. Perhaps this will come to pass someday but in the meantime I have tracked the progress one pile of shit— and its ‘staying power’ is somewhat disquieting.
Exhibit A
69 Second Avenue, Manhattan
March 25, 2007
3:30 p.m.
My sister-in-law was in town from March 22, 2007 to March 26, 2007. When I found the above offering just south of St. Mark’s Place I had to point it out to her. She thought it was as funny as I was. We both bothered my husband to pick up those two pennies up for us. He refused. So I took a picture of them instead. A couple passersby thought this (a 30-something year old broad shooting a photo of a pile of crap while shouting, “Hey Sam, do you want a penny!?!“) was one of the funniest things they had ever seen. Go figure.
Now jump to…
Exhibit B
69 Second Avenue, Manhattan
April 13, 2007
5:30 p.m.
My mother, husband, cousin and I walked by the same spot…
and the poop and (one of) the pennies was still there!
Through rain, sleet or snow, New York Shitty delivers!
To summarize, this discovery has:
- given the phrase “tough shit” a whole new meaning. After almost 3 weeks of exposure to the elements it is still there. Perhaps our government should conduct research on this substance? The way I see it, after we manage to blow each other into oblivion (and apes evolve from man), the charred remains of the Statue of Liberty will not be our civilization’s legacy; it will be an petrified pile of dog shit. I can only hope that when the archeologists find this they interpret it as some kind of burial ritual. After the body is laid to rest, a pile of dog shit and two pennies are left to facilitate his (or her) soul’s journey into the bowels of the underworld. Sort of like Anna Nicole Smith.
- provided prima facie evidence that under the right conditions currency can be rendered so repulsive (READ: encrustated with SHIT) that not even a junkie or derelict will pick it up.
Miss Heather
Poo Bag Bandita
Today I received an email from the person responsible for installing this public poo bag dispenser. She writes:
In my defense, when I installed all the signs (03/27/07), the location of the particular sign in question only had one bike tied to it. And a cinder block slightly pushed to the side. Perhaps I should move it up the block just a tad. The other locations of the signs are at 155 Freeman St, 118 Freeman St and one at the south corner of Eagle St and Manhattan Ave. Unfortunately, the Eagle St sign had been removed sometime this week.
The one at 118 Freeman St is actually needs a new roll of bags. I guess one can only hope the bags have been used appropriately. I also vow to hold up my crusade against the shit as long as the need is there and I am financially able.
…oh yeah and I would like to share one of my favorite little gems that I have collected… I like to call it shit ‘n’ Tanqueray. Found it at the northeast corner of Franklin St And Green St about a week ago.
I wonder if this is how Tony Sinclair takes his Tanqueray?
Thanks again for the choice turdage, Poo Bag Bandita!
Miss Heather
The Blarney Choad
Not satisfied with a mere six surveillance cameras, Magic Johnson and his crew have seen fit to add a few more.
I’m not too sure what purpose these cameras serve (aside from perhaps pissing people off— and in this regard they are working like a charm), but if they are being used as a dog shit deterrent, IT ISN’T WORKING.
Top of the mornin’ to ya Mr. Johnson!
I found this a yard away from these festive feces. Looks like the St. Paddy’s celebration is finally winding down at 106 Green Street. Sixteen days of partying: even for here that has got to set some sort of record…
Miss Heather
No Dumping
This colossal failure to communicate can be found at the northwest intersection of India and West Street. If you go down there to check it out be sure to watch where you step. There’s feces (canine and otherwise) ALL OVER THE PLACE.
Miss Heather