Greenpoint
Lorven Pharmacy
Culture on the Cheap
Reader Participation Time: Snarkitecture
The Mister and I do not make it to Long Island City as much as we used to. There are a number of reasons for this. Among them:
- The weather. It’s been too cold to venture out.
- We have taken to going to Sunnyside and Jackson Heights instead. This is because…
- quite frankly we find Long Island City kind of depressing.
Ever since they demolished that beautiful old building at 10-62 Jackson Avenue and replaced it with a shiv-like structure we cannot cross the Pulaski Bridge without wincing. Luckily we had a craving for Italian food this weekend and decided to go to Manettas. As we made our way down the bridge we were presented with a most unexpected treat: 49-16 11 Street.
This stunning example of Strip Mall Italian (replete with a Donald Judd-esque elevator shaft) sent us into fits of uncontrollable laughter.
Where do you start with this? Hell, where do you finish for that matter?
For starters you have the lovely Juliet style balconies overlooking the on ramp of the Pulaski Bridge.
Just a beer bottle’s throw away from traffic (and perhaps the odd pedestrian or bicyclist).
Some attempt at symmetry has been made… but not quite enough. I christen this daring new style Art Sucko.
But no expense has been spared on Friedrichs boxes. This is a good thing. When the dull roar of truck traffic (at all hours) gets to be too much for our intrepid 49-16ers they can crank up the air conditioner to drown out the din.
The last time I saw something with this many studs on it was in the West Village. (WARNING: previous link is NSFW.)
No matter how hard I try my wit, gift for gab, whatever-you-want-to-call-it is not doing this stellar example of Fedderism justice. To this end I need your help. Although I realize this has been done before I am proposing the following: you, dear readers, tender LOL speak captions for this masterpiece. These can be left in the comments below or sent via email at: missheather (at) newyorkshitty (dot) com.
If I like what I see I’ll publish the pick of the litter right here on New York Shitty later this week.
Your immediate attention to this matter is greatly appreciated.
Happy snarking!
Miss Heather
The Astral Gets Its Wings…
(AKA: Behind The Beige Door)
Lost among the recent drama in Greenpoint is something that has been nagging at me for some time. Specifically: is the perv-a-licious Super of the Astral (“Tommy”) still using the premises for boudoir photography? The answer is yes. Per a tipster, March 1, 2009:
Yesterday afternoon (February 28, 2009), i saw Tommy crossing the Astral courtyard with a petite, dark-haired girl, both are carrying chunky silver suitcases or whatever you call them (big, square, silvery-metal things with handles). she’s in sweats but hair and makeup are done.
three or four hours later. i’m going down the entrance steps with the garbage. Tommy and the model come out from the basement apartment, ahead of me. still got the silver suitcases and Tommy is carrying a flat cardboard box with the angel wings peeking out. i say hello because no point in pretending we don’t see each other. Tommy can’t look me in the face, as usual, but the model politely holds the Astral’s front door open for me because of the giant bag of garbage. Nice! (Naturally, I said thank you to her)
the following link also enhances the story. note that his last log-in is today. and the girl in his profile photo is the very one i saw yesterday.
Aaaaand if you click on the view photos link on Tommy’s Model Mayhem page, you’ll see another girl with the same wings and another photo of the model i saw yesterday in chains and lingerie and sitting ON THE FLOOR OF THE ASTRAL HALLWAY!
this has to be what is behind that basement door in my part of the Astral. and i really, really hope she was able to take a hot shower with disinfectant soap after that was taken. i would not sit on that floor wearing jeans, much less in my dainties!
The above photograph— which I have cribbed and give full credit to Glamour Images Studio— was taken by the Astral’s Super: Tommy. The location is a stairwell of the apartment building under his supervision: The Astral. To this I can attest. I wonder what his employer Pistilli Realty would think about this?
Miss Heather
P.S.: Nice logo, Tommy. Glad to see you’re making productive use of this building— which is landmarked.
NOTEWORTHY: Somewhere In Queens
Filed under: Astoria, Clinton Hill, Ft. Greene, Long Island City, Queens, Sunnyside
xdoobiex (the gentleman who tipped me off to the following item writes):
…first, this is a little promotion for my friend.. i am not sure if you want to post it.. but he needs exposure… see attachment…
Granted, this is still a little ways off. But I am very excited about checking out this show (which, amusingly enough, is located in in the county of Kings).
Somewhere In Queens, Alex Segreti
Opening Reception: March 9, 2009 6:00 – 9:00 p.m.
Pratt Institute Media Arts Gallery
Steuben Hall, 3rd Floor
200 Willoughby Avenue
Brooklyn, New York 11205
Miss Heather
Morning Photos Du Jour: Shadows
Leonard Street, Greenpoint.
Meserole Avenue, Greenpoint.
Driggs Avenue, Williamsburg.
Jackson Avenue, Long Island City.
Miss Heather
Subway Video Du Jour: The G Train Strut
As mentioned in this post, the Mister and I ventured to Long Island City for dinner last weekend. It was delicious (La Vuelta has yet to disappoint). But as with all things in life— be they good or bad— our evening came to an end. We needed to go home. This of course entailed taking the Crosstown Local. The G train. The “Gee, where is it”? The “Go nowhere” train. Call it what thou whilst.
Unlike many I do not take issue with the Crosstown’s lack of punctuality. In fact I am grateful for it’s zen-like service as it has worked wonders for taming my Type A personality. I was once an impatient and impetuous public transportation novice but the Jedi masters behind this line have seen fit to teach me a most valuable gift: patience. I take things a little slower and savor the little things in life nowadays. Like this guy.
(TIP: listen to “Jimmy James” or “No Sleep Til Brooklyn” by the Beastie Boys while watching the following.)
The Mister could not understand my fascination with this chap. He wanted to get home fast and was upset I was lagging behind. It ended up making no difference: shortly after this chap descended the stairwell our train was ready to go. It was as if the G waiting for him (and maybe it was— after all, this dude is cool beyond compare).
It just goes to show that some of us bear no shame whatsoever for being patrons of the Crosstown Local. Sure, we pretty much have to transfer to get anywhere— but it also gives us the opportunity to hold our heads up and roll out a most badass strut.
Bravo!
Miss Heather
Subway Photos Du Jour
From the Queens bound platform of the Crosstown Local at Metropolitan Avenue.
From the Smith – 9th bound platform of the Crosstown Local at Metropolitan Avenue.
From The Queens bound platform at 21st Street.
From the Manhattan bound platform of the E/V at 23rd Street – Ely Avenue.
Miss Heather
Long Island City Photo Du Jour: Baracked?
The Mister and I passed this tonight while walking to La Vuelta* for dinner. I say it’s Barack Obama. He says it isn’t. Draw your own conclusions.
Miss Heather
*Who, it should be mentioned, DOES deliver to Greenpoint!
Express Yourself!
Earlier this week the Mister asked me what I want to do for Valentine’s Day. I told him (in all seriousness) I wanted to go bowling— and so we are. I have told my friends about this and they think it is hilarious. I, on the other hand, fail to see what the big deal is and therein lies the rub.
For wont of another way of putting it I am not the most warm, fuzzy and sentimental gal to be found. Sloppy protestations of love and bouquets of flowers— at the very best— will confuse me. More likely than not I’ll get very suspicious and think you trying to pull something over on me. That’s just the way I am and at this point I seriously doubt I am going to change. So be it. After a few misfires the Mister has learned this.
No mushy stuff necessary or cheesy cards, thanks. I not only don’t want ’em but I don’t need ’em: reading someone else’s billets doux is a hell of a lot more fun. Some of you might remember (and if you do are probably doing your utmost to forget) the recent cache of naughty foot fetish goodness I found at the junk shop a couple weeks ago. Well, I have some very good new (for me, anyway): now I have a some letters to go with them! Having trouble expressing yourself to your lady love this Valentine’s Day? Why not take a few tips from these guys? You’ll be certain to get her attention— and possibly a restraining order too!
EXHIBIT A
V-Day Tip #1: Always make sure your letter is neat and legible.
V-Day Tip #2: Use the phrase ROYAL TOE JAM.
If you follow these directions you might get a doggy biscuit!
EXHIBIT B
Remember the movie Sleepless In Seattle? God, I hated that film. Well, here’s its little known (and infinitely more fun) sequel. It is called Naked On My Knees In Queens.
After reading this a few questions come to mind:
- Why don’t I get mail like this?
- Why does every man who comes a courtin’ claim he is “very good looking”? God has made plenty of room in this world for dog shit ugly. Oh has he ever. Don’t believe me? Then I would like to humbly suggestion you take a long hard look at Aerosmith nowadays. Any questions?
EXHIBIT C
I know at least one person out there reading this is a musician. Would you please start a bad (or at the very least write a song) called “White Trash Doormat”? PLEEEEEEEEEEEEZE.
EXHIBIT D
Of course there is something to be said about just being upfront and to the point.
Miss Heather
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