Greenpoint
Lorven Pharmacy
Culture on the Cheap
Come to Brooklyn
I had an exceptionally difficult time writing yesterday’s post. This was not due to a mental block or anything of that nature, mind you; my Internet connection was very, very sluggish. I cannot count the number of times I lost copy-edits because my connection timed out. This was more than a little infuriating.
Is it just me or does it seem like every time some politician or self-proclaimed pundit wants to create a “hot button” issue it invariably involves the Internet. As Larry Flynt put it:
Opinions are like assholes, everybody has one.
Very true.
In fact, I’d even go a step further and assert that the majority of opinions I read regarding the Internet are tendered by assholes, but I digress. Be it privacy, spyware, pornography, spam, blogs or online predators I have heard a litany of ‘experts’ pontificate about them all. Often.
Honestly, none of the previous subjects really move me. I do not like having to clean out my inbox several times each day because an army of online assholes is trying to sell me medications designed to pump up a pecker I do not possess (among many other things), but I have grown to accept it as an occupational hazard. What does disturb the living shit out of me, rather, is the fact that every fuckwit, half-wit and their damned dog has Internet access and has seen fit to block the information highway’s colon with semi-literate offal.
These people should not be allowed to have computers. Come to think of it, they should not be allowed to have telephones either. The only means of communication that should be made available to such people is either the U.S. Mail (so their 2nd Grade handwriting can be enjoyed by all) or the Jerry Springer Show. At least on the Jerry Springer show you get a couple of cat fights or a boob shot to wash down the pieces of human debris parading before you.
Case in point: the following is an actual email exchange between one of my friend’s neighbors (here in Greenpoint) and some other e-tard with one extra chromosome and way too much time on her hands. Apparently the woman was very proud of her repartee and wished to share this accomplishment with my friend. Uh-huh. Being the proud author of this turd is sort of like going to a battered women’s shelter to pick up chicks: both are more than a little pathetic.
Ghetto Trash: listen you ugly fat bitch stop talking to my boyfriend just b/c your man beats you doesn’t mean you have to talk to mine!!! peace
Greenpoint Trash: hahahahahahahahahah u are one crazy ass girl! dont hate the palyer hate the game hahahah your crazy!! oh and by the way i aint fat hahahahaha!! i look the bomb you got issues!!! hahahahahahahahahah
GT: actually you are fat… stay the fuck away from him, fattie peace out
GPT: listen mamacita, dont hate on me cause he was my man b4 he was yours!! hahaha i don’t want him, and im a grown ass woman, and he is a grown ass man and i will talk to whoever the fuck i wanna talk to, if you see me as such a threat come out to BROOKLYN where we kept it fucken gully and i could pound your ass out hahahahahaha your so corney! grown the fuck up!
GT: he even said you were fat and he felt bad 4 u b/c u liked him so he’d throw u the bone every once in awhile then he dumped your fat ass for someone who was actually hot so i really wouldn’t call him “your man” and talk to whoever the fuck u want just not him and bitch i would u up so fuckin bad
GPT: hahaha yooooooooo your really fucken psyco! take some medication! your like 4 feet shorter then me you little leprichaun!! ahaha i could step on you! and im not gonna say anything to incriminate saul because im smarter then you and what we talk about is between us! and what we had is between us!! thats why we were together for 4 1/2 years you dumb cunt rag! you need to check yourself! and yes i will keep talking to him just to piss your little leprichaun ass off! so fuck off!! come to brooklyn!!!!!!! come out here if your sooo rough and tough! hahah i will stomp you out! i dare you! your too pussy to come out here!
GT: have fun trying to talk to him when he blocked you.. listen stop talking to me i don’t associate with ugly people
“Come to Brooklyn” I like the ring of it!
The powers that be should integrate this masterpiece into the Brooklyn tourism ad campaign. I can see it now: an actor dressed like Walt Whitman recites the previous verse stoically while a video montage of cat fights and topless shots (featuring some of Kings County’s finest ladies, naturally) runs in the background. I can’t guarantee this will increase tourism, but you can rest assured you will have the viewer’s undivided attention.
Miss Heather
Photo Credit: Miss Heather
Ghetto-ass Credit: The Stuporintendent of Miss Heather’s apartment building
Of Poop and Progress
Yesterday I set forth with my trusty digital camera and documented the shit-laden apocalyptic wasteland that Green Street has become. After asserting in this post that development has precipitated a deluge dog shit, I decided to put my theory to the test. The Dog Shit Queen of Greenpoint is not one to state findings without the data to back it up.*
After crunching the numbers, there does appear to be a relationship between development and dog shit. However, it is a more subtle one than I had initially projected. For example:
By all appearances the above chart suggests that there is no relationship whatsoever between development and dog shit. But if one looks at a breakdown by location (and bears in mind that 110-142 Green Street is the area being razed to build condos) a trend begins to emerge.
Note: The closer an undeveloped property is to the development site, the more dog shit there is to be found.
In addition, even-numbered properties (those on the same side of the street as the development site) seem to be harder hit than their odd-numbered counterparts across the street. Mere coincidence? I think not.
Still don’t believe me? Check out the shitcam.
Miss Heather
*I prefer to leave this practice to our Chimp in Chief, thank you.
Close Encounters of the Turd Kind
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
When I saw the following at 144 Franklin Street today two words came to mind (after the requisite What the fuck?): anal probe.
It makes sense that extra-terrestrials would troll this neighborhood for research subjects. The more colorful citizens here drop trou in public with disquieting regularity anyway, so why not “catch them with their pants down”? Literally.
I’d even go so far as to conjecture that some of the test subjects probably like it. It’s a “win”/”win” situation for all involved!
Regardless, I am happy to know that they use protection. I wonder if they use the rubber fingertips to phone home?
Miss Heather
A Very Greenpoint Christmas
After seeing all the lovely pictures of Christmas decorations featured on The Gowanus Lounge, I felt KNEW Greenpoint needed to represent. The ‘nabe with the short train should, in my opinion, have Christmas decor that looks like it was made by someone who rides the short bus. And it does.
Don’t get me wrong readers: I like it! This Christmas tree has an overall lack of pretense to it I find endearing. You can tell someone worked on this very diligently until:
1. he (or she) ran out of tinsel
2. he toiled with tinsel for five minutes and said “Fuck this shit, I want a beer.”
Or, most likely, a combination of “1” and “2”:
Perhaps he had to make a decision to spend the remaining money he had left on either beer or more tinsel. He opted for the obvious choice (as any Greenpointer worth his/her salt will tell you): booze.
Miss Heather
Greenpoint Craptacular
Filed under: (s)Hit Parade, Bum Shit, Dog Shit, Dung of the Day, Greenpoint Magic
I had quite the busy weekend. My Saturday morning started at 8:30 a.m. assembling and collating all the material to be sent along with the angry missive to our landlord. This packet ended up being about a quarter of an inch thick. It was not an enjoyable task, but it was a necessary one, nonetheless.
After purchasing the envelope and postage for this turd, my husband and I rushed to the Bust Craftacular to meet my buddy, Judy McGuire. The Warsaw Ballroom was where we were to make a transaction for a really gorgeous clock I made. This came to pass— after I beheld the horror that is the ‘hip’ Greenpoint/Williamburg parenting cadre.
Let it be known here and now that I do not like:
1. crowds
2. noise
3. crotchlings in all-terrain strollers (if your stroller is bigger than me, it need not be)
4. the parents who see fit to bring the aforementioned crotchlings in said strollers to venues best left for adult consumption
I could have tolerated the loud music, the crowds OR the stroller set individually, but being assaulted by all three at once proved to be a hell for all five senses that even Dante could not begin to fathom.
It’s a matter of space: my personal and psychological space. When did my allotted amount of space become fair game to affluent breeders/space pirates with crotchlings? I’d really like to know. Perhaps, to bastardize Desmond Tutu, this is why:
When the developers came to Greenpoint they had the lawyers and we had the space. They said “Let us prey.” We closed our eyes. When we opened them we had eviction papers and they had the space (air rights, FAR, etc.).
But I digress…
My point is this: why won’t these parents act, well, like parents? Any parent worth his/her salt would have the horse-sense to know that the Bust Craftacular may not be a good place to take their small children. If not as a simple act of common courtesy to the other patrons, because the loud-ass music may be unsettling, if not downright damaging, to their toddlers/infants.
The same logic applies to the happy hours some bars have to pander to the ‘hip’ mommy set. Why can’t these women just stay home and ask little “Timmy” or “Caitlin” to “Mix a drink for mommy because she had a hard day” like the civilized folk? If this practice was good enough for Bette Davis, rest assured it sure as fuck is good enough for them.
Start ’em out while they’re young, I say (because the children are our future): one parent’s alcohol consumption may bear fruit in a lucrative career as a bartender for the child later. Why bother preparing “Timmy” or “Caitlin” for a white-collar career today that will be out-sourced tomorrow? The service industry is our nation’s future, and consequently, their future.
In three or four years I imagine the public schools in Greenpoint/Williamsburg will be inundated with hard-of-hearing children with an attention span of one nano-second— but they’ll mix cocktails guaranteed to knock the teacher on her ass. They’ll cut lines like a pro to boot. The previous may be nice fringe benefits given how badly teachers are paid.
Slipster parents: open up your wallets and hire a babysitter or get off your respective asses and start a babysitting pool like a grown-up. The rest of us (grown-ups) are not the least bit amused by your child’s antics, your adolescent sense of entitlement and overall inability to act your age.
The last time my husband and I ate at Taco Chulo (at 8:30 p.m.) we had the pleasure of being entertained by a todder running amok. This boy climbed atop the sofa, the coffee table and a four foot tall ledge. Had he fallen, he would have cracked his head open or broken an arm. Where was mommy? She was eating and laughing her ass off because it was “cute”.
Until this houseape came to our table (matchbox car in hand, snot flowing from nose) and babbled gibberish at us, anyway. That’s was when (with glowing mommy pride) mamasan sauntered over to our table and told us (while we were eating for chrissakes) that her vaginal dumpling wanted to know what we dressed up as for Halloween.
I told her that what I dressed up as (for Halloween) was unsuitable content for a child to hear and she left. I applaud my husband’s and my own restraint: we were pissed. After she left, my husband and I tossed around answers to this question we would have preferred to give:
1. A pedophile
2. Your REAL daddy
3. Your REAL mommy
4. Your aborted sister/brother who lives in heaven now
5. Your momma’s pimp
6. A child protective services caseworker
This is Greenpoint, not Disneyland (or Levittown, for that matter).
Williamsbreeders: if you want a child-centric/hip-wombyn environment, move to Park Slope. They’ll be happy to take you. You can argue over the gender-ramifications of a child’s hat (via craigslist) to your heart’s contentment. Otherwise, the next time you bring your child into my Greenpoint(less) world, he/she may get a crash course in ‘adult’ repartee.
I may very well show your kid this, which will undoubtedly result in him/her having bed-wetting episodes and night terrors for years.
Miss Heather
P.S.: At least my trek to the Craftacular netted me this constellation of dog shit I call the Guernsey Street Octet…
and these select morsels of bum shit just around the corner on Nassau Avenue.
Every dark cloud has a brown lining in New York Shitty.
Act fast! This apartment will not stay on the market long!
As many of you know already, I was once a real estate agent. In this capacity I previewed a number of apartments: some were nice, others not so nice. Contrary to what less ethical real estate agents may tell you, a decent studio apartment can be had in New York City (Manhattan) for $1,200-$1,300 a month. I saw a number of them with my own eyes. The one thing I never saw, however, was a $1,200/month studio located in Greenpoint. Until this weekend, anyway.
Miss Heather has experienced much drama of late. My apartment woes have taken upon a life of their own. The latest manifestion of this phenomenon involves a cat. Yes, A CAT.
You see, a neighbor of ours (apartment 6) was hauled out of here by EMDs about three weeks ago. Given that she was paid numerous visits by ACS, it is probably safe to assume her child was removed from her custody. Her cat, however, proved to be another matter.
This woman gave her apartment keys to a man named George THREE WEEKS AGO with the understanding that he would feed her cat until she came back. After repeatedly trying to contact her, George gave up. She had clearly abandoned the apartment, so he gave the keys to me so I could tend to the cat and (hopefully) find her a new home.
What I discovered upon entering apartment 6 was truly appalling. Aside from some serious maintenance and health hazards, it was just plain FILTHY. Mind you, the following pictures were taken AFTER George had done some cleaning. UNBELIEVEABLE.
George filled six garbage bags with trash before quitting.
This is just plain gross.
WTF?!?
And of course, here’s the sweet kitty* who had lived in this shitheap for weeks (months?)…
Mind you, I am not placing ANY blame with George regarding this situation. He did the best he could given the circumstances. Rather, I was horrified by the general condition of the apartment. You could tell it had been like this for a long, long time.
Gross.
I think the term for this caliber of work is “Ghetto Fabulous”.
Water and electricity do not mix.
I just about pissed my pants laughing at this one. I can recollect at least four different types of flooring material put to use in this apartment.
And last, but not least, here’s a picture from the child’s room…
I am certain the more cynical among you are saying “I’ve seen worse”.
Perhaps this is so, but be advised that the previous defects were the only ones I could document because the place was filled to the gills in REFUSE.
The more observant of you are surely asking “What does this have to do with a $1,200/month studio apartment in Greenpoint?”
My answer is this: You just saw one.
Miss Heather
*For those of you who are wondering, she is currently testing out a new foster home and it looks encouraging. But if anyone is interested in adopting her lest this arrangement falls through, shoot me an email: missheather (at) Newyorkshitty (dot) com.
Lady Liberty’s Headlights Lead the Way
Lady Liberty to world:
Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
New York Shitty to Lady Liberty:
Shut up and SHOW US YOUR HOOTERS!
Although I usually dislike cyber-begging on principle, I am very tempted to erect a paypal tip bucket (to take donations) so I can buy this item.
Miss Heather
12/1/06, 1:27 a.m.: on second (third?) thought, I want the African-American Lady Liberty bust in the background. She’ll go nicely with the Malcolm X velvet painting in my living room. After watching two years of my dreary (and abject) life unfold, he deserves a companion.
My housing s(h)ituation
While I (still) intend to write a testimonial about my recent housing woes, the following nastygram pretty much speaks for itself…
November ??, 2006
Negligent Landlord
Brooklyn, NY 11222
Re: Conditions at XYZ Green St. (AKA 123 Manhattan Avenue) Brooklyn, NY 11222
Dear Landlord:
We, the below-signed residents of XYZ Green Street, are writing this letter to voice our concerns regarding the lack of effective management and proper maintenance of this building. Recent events including, but not limited to:
1. lack of heat and hot water for an entire week (11/2/06 – 11/9/06)
2. electrical outages in individual apartments and the public areas of this building as result of questionable/unlicensed electrical work and water damage
3. lack of responsiveness on the part of your managing agent to address the aforementioned issues in a timely manner
have made it all too clear that serious changes need to be made regarding how this building is managed and maintained. It is the purpose of this letter to make you aware of the more egregious concerns we have regarding the habitability of this building and to start an amicable dialogue as to how these issues will be handled moving forward.
1. Lack of heat and hot water: on November 2, 2006 we received a notice from KeySpan stating they had disconnected the boiler that provides heat and hot water to the apartments of this building. This was done because the chimney for the boiler was blocked. This is a very hazardous condition: one that may have caused carbon monoxide to be discharged into the apartments of this building. This situation was made even more hazardous given that neither the apartments nor public areas of this building have carbon monoxide detectors or smoke detectors. Both of the previous are required by law.
KeySpan came to this building Sunday, November 3, 2006 at 9:15 p.m. to inspect the boiler and (hopefully) restore service. We were forced to turn this gentleman away because:
a. The person we were led to believe is the Superintendent (Gerardo) was not on the premises at the time (because he no longer resides here)
b. We had no means of reaching the him or providing access to the basement
As a result, we had to wait an entire week for our heat and hot water to be restored. This is unacceptable; having no heat or hot water for an entire week is not a mere inconvenience, it is a health hazard.
Once again, this building experienced a lack of hot water (or any water, for that matter) November 22, 2006 from roughly 8:00-11:00 a.m. We were given no notice about any work being done to the boiler. Rather, we were told by a gentleman who works for Green Street Plumbing (at 157 Green Street) a week later that you were “sweating the pipesâ€. What work was being done to the boiler that would necessitate this practice?
2. Lack of access to the basement: the recent course of events (from November 2 through November 9) could have been easily truncated had access to the basement been provided to KeySpan. In addition to having no means of contacting the Superintendent (or another managing agent for this property) outside of business hours and having no one on the premises with the necessary keys to provide access to the basement, it has come to our attention that this building has been cited by the Department of Buildings for having an illegal apartment in the basement.
This was undoubtedly a contributing factor to KeySpan being denied access to the basement. Either you or one of your managing agents did not want to give KeySpan access to the basement for the simple reason that someone was living there. This not only violates the Certificate of Occupancy (on record with the Department of Buildings) for this building, but poses a serious hazard to all who reside in this building. We (the legitimate tenants of this building) cannot get timely access to the basement in the event of an emergency and the person(s) residing in the basement has/have no secondary means of egress in the event of a fire.
3. Unlicensed electrical work and cosmetic improvements being made to this building: On the week of October 25, 2006 an employee under your hire (and/or under the hire/supervision of Gerardo, the ostensible Superintendent of this building) proceeded to do work in the public areas of this building. Among other things he:
a. installed a motion-sensitive light fixture above the mailboxes by tapping into the existing light fixture located on the first floor above the stairwell. Any work that involves electrical wiring must have a permit from the Department of Buildings and must be performed by a licensed electrician. This work was clearly not conducted by a licensed professional (much less with a permit) and as a result, a number of apartments experienced brown-outs and the public areas of this building had no lighting whatsoever for 36 hours. No measures were taken to redress this problem on the part of your managing agent. We, the tenants of this building, put light fixtures in the hallway so some measure of light would be provided to anyone entering and leaving the building.
b. re-faced the stairs between the first and second floors of this building. He tapped into an existing light fixture (this time on the second floor) in order to power the equipment necessary to do this work. This, in turn, caused a brown-out in apartment #1. In addition, the improvements made to these stairs have already started to fall apart. One tenant fell and hurt herself while climbing the stairs because the metal facing on the 6th stair tread had come loose. This has since been repaired, but the gentleman (once again) tapped into the light fixture to do it— well after you have been ordered by the city (twice) to remove this illegal wiring.
c. painted parts of the public areas of this building with oil-based paint and made no effort whatsoever to provide adequate ventilation, be it by opening windows or the front door of the building. When confronted about this, your employee said he had worked this way for “29 years†without trouble and saw no reason why he should change this practice. Oil-based paint, while very durable, requires proper ventilation because the fumes are noxious. As you are probably aware, a number of people in this building have chronic asthma; such fumes serve only to exacerbate their symptoms.
4. Insecure mailboxes: it has come to our attention that the locks securing the top of the mailbox fixtures in our building (to be used only by our postal delivery person when he places mail in our mailboxes) are inoperative. Anyone with access to this building and knowledge of this defect can gain access to all the mailboxes (and the mail contained therein) in this building. The Superintendent’s own daughter was seen accessing the mailbox for apartment #7 (where she and her family had lived previously) by hitting the mailbox fixture repeatedly until it opened.
a. If the Superintendent was concerned about having mail delivered to his new address, he should have tendered a forwarding order to the United States Postal Service.
b. Tampering with mail boxes and mail theft are Federal offenses.
Be advised that this matter has been brought to the attention of the local Postmaster.
5. Access to this building: a number of people have been given keys to this building without any notification in writing from you or your managing agent. This raises some serious safety concerns, as we have no idea who these people are or why they are being given access to this building. Not only was the gentleman (mentioned in item #3 of this letter) given access to this building without notification, but the new porter (?) of this building has been given keys to the front door. Our concerns are as follows:
a. Why was the old porter, Joyce Montero, who resides in this building (apartment #4) relieved of her duties? We were very happy with her services and see no reason why she should be replaced.
b. We are not comfortable with this man having access to this building because:i. The work he does here is limited in time and scope, yet he loiters around the building constantly.
ii. He has taken to harassing one of the tenants in this building repeatedly. It is our understanding (per what you told an officer of the N.Y.P.D., 94th Precinct, on the afternoon of 11/22/06) that this man is your employee. If this is so, as your agent this man is to clean the building and sort the garbage; he is not to verbally harass, intimidate, or threaten the tenants who live therein. If he cannot (or will not) refrain from bothering the tenants of this building, it is your responsibility to replace him.
6. Door providing access to the roof: this door will not remain closed. It slams continuously during inclement weather and permits rainwater to enter the building. Rainwater has rotted a section of the ceiling on the fourth floor. This damage has since been plastered over (by the same person mention in item #3 of this letter). We have serious concerns about the effectiveness of this repair work and any possible damage to the electrical wiring to the fourth floor light fixture that might have been concealed. Nonetheless, such repairs do not address the origin of the problem, e.g.; the fact that the insecure door to the roof still permits rainwater to enter the building. We want a real and lasting solution to this problem, not quick fixes.
7. Buzzers: this fixture does not operate properly. Not only are they wired in no discernable order (the top buzzer is for apartment #3, for example), but there appears to be no buzzer for apartment #6. This is a constant source of confusion and annoyance.
8. Inadequate lighting at the entrance of this building: it is our understanding (per housing code) that a 100 watt light bulb is to be used in lighting fixtures that illuminate the entrance of an apartment building. The current lighting is clearly not adequate (as of the writing of this letter, said light bulb is inoperative), and as a consequence, a number of derelicts and other non-residents have taken to loitering on the stoop of this building at night. This poses some serious safety concerns. It is not unreasonable to assume that if this fixture was brought up to code, these people would be less likely to loiter in front of this building.
In closing, the above list is a general synopsis of the more troublesome issues we have experienced of late. A number of these defects have already been brought to your attention; you have been cited by the Department of Buildings and Housing Preservation for a number of them recently. Additionally, a number of us would like to know why you have not registered the rent (with the DHCR) for our individual apartments for the last two (or more) years. Some of us have also discovered other irregularities regarding our rental histories which will be brought to your attention via attachments. Following this letter you will find:
• Images of the above-listed defects
• A list of open citations from the Department of Buildings and Housing Preservation and Development for this building
• Cover letters and supplemental material regarding the habitability/condition of individual apartments, rental overcharge concerns and other issues that have arisen with individual tenants
We thank you in advance for your attention to these matters and look forward to getting a written response from you as to how they will be corrected.
Sincerely,
XYZ Green Street Tenants’ Organization
A few thoughts about human defecation
Yesterday my pal Judy McGuire featured a rather choice item about a man who is despoiling the British rail system with his rectal ordnance. Apparently he has struck thirty times since August of this year. Impressive.
Granted, this person is engaging in some serious anti-social behavior, but I have to chuckle at the level of seriousness with which our friends ‘across the pond’ are approaching this problem. Not only do those of us who live in New York Shitty accept human defecation in public spaces as an occupational hazard, but we find it downright hilarious under the right circumstances. A few years ago I even wrote a little ditty about a man whose avocation was smearing shit all over the men’s bathroom at my friend’s place of employment.
I can only hope the previous acts were a new manifestion of dialectical materialism the pundits have yet to expound upon.
For the above reasons (and many more) I have decided to officially feature “Bum Shit” on this blog. Greenpoint has staggering amounts of bum poo, which brings me to today’s “Dung of the Day” from 259 Banker Street…
I do not like them on a street called Box.
I do not like them with phat rocks.
I do not like them in my house.
I do not like them with a louse.
I do not like them anywhere.
I do not like bum shit and wipes.
I do not like them, 311 operator (to whom I gripe).*
Miss Heather
*Yes, Doctor Seuss is probably rolling in his grave somewhere.
24 Hours of Separation Between Celebrity and Mediocrity
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
I have been in a surly mood of late. There are numerous reasons for this and I care not to bore you with the details. Suffice it to say that I have autumn doldrums.
That said, I have (out of idle curiosity/vanity) researched who (if any) famous people share my birthday: January 7. I am sure many of you have done this, even if you will not openly admit to doing so.
It’s ‘psychic lotto by proxy’: you (some lowly cube-monkey earning slave wages) scratch away at a ticket with hopes that the stars will affirm that you are designated for something better in life other than shovelling shit. Or collating copies. Same difference.
I know who my birthday buds are and it ain’t pretty. Butterfly McQueen, Charles Addams (as in The Addams Family) and Paul Clemens number in my ranks, but the others suck. Big time.
- Millard Fillmore: one of the worst Presidents this country has ever had. I suspect our current Chimp in Chief will take him down a notch. This will only provide further proof as to how much Millard Fillmore sucked.
- Nicholas Cage: I was pretty down with Nick at first (Fast Times at Ridgemont High), but nowadays he’s just plain creepy. You can’t tell the difference between a wax statue of him and the real thing. Gross.
- Katie Couric: She offends me the most. I suspect this is due to the ‘perkiness factor’. I am rarely perky. “Perky” is a word neither my friends nor my enemies would use to describe me. When I appear to be remotely “perky” (and my husband can/will attest to this) it is because I am up to some type of anti-social activity. Think Wednesday Addams— or better yet— Uncle Fester or Lurch.
In closing, I have been in a rather shitty mood today. Until I saw this ‘modified’ advertisement on the front of a B61 bus headed down Manhattan Avenue.
This made my day. I wonder if this is what Katie looks like before being Photo-shopped? Fuck, I look like that every day.
Miss Heather
P.S.: The other thing that sucks about being born January 7 is that most people fuck it up and think that you were born January 8 (like Elvis or David Bowie). I HATE Elvis, but Bowie rocks.
NYS Flickr Pool
