Greenpoint
Lorven Pharmacy
Culture on the Cheap
Public Service Announcement From East 23rd Street
Filed under: Area 51
Death kills…
and if grim reaper doesn’t finish the job, the stench from the port-o-let (located across the street) most assuredly will. This tome sort of reminds me of Allan Ginsberg’s Howl.
Miss Heather
UPDATE: Per the folks over at Daily Intel this quote is from St. Theresa of Avila. She must have been a pretty interesting (if seriously repressed) lady. She was even purported to levitate on more than one occasion. Sound familiar?
Manhattan Photo du Jour: Carpe Diem Baby!
Filed under: Area 51
From East 23rd Street.
Miss Heather
Subway Photo du Jour: Kicking It Old School At Union Square
Filed under: Area 51
I know what you’re wondering and the answer is yes.
This gentleman is futzing with an iPod mini while wearing a cassette as a pendant and sporting a Nintendo game cartridge for a belt buckle.
Miss Heather
Nipples: The Body Politic
Filed under: Area 51
I recently had the pleasure of having a chap on Broadway shout at me:
Hey nipples!
Naturally I looked down and lo, “Left Eye” (as I like to call her), despite being muzzled by a bra was alert and pert. What can I say? Men complain of having “morning wood”. Even more claim they cannot control what their lower head does. Why shouldn’t it be the same for women? If anything, the equipment we ladies sport and the level of restraint we exercuse reining them in is superior. Here’s why:
The way I see it, the male body is a bicameral structure. Wikipedia states:
Although the ideas on which bicameralism are based can be traced back to the theories developed in Ancient Sumer and later ancient Greece, ancient India, and Rome, recognizable bicameral institutions first arose in medieval Europe where they were associated with separate representation of different estates of the realm.
In other words: one above the belt and one below. To invoke British parliamentary procedure, the male body has a House of Commons and the House of Lords.
Wikipedia goes on to say:
Some political scientists believe that bicameralism makes meaningful political reforms more difficult to achieve and increases the risk of deadlock (particularly in cases where both chambers have similar powers). Others argue strongly for the merits of the ‘checks and balances‘ provided by the bicameral model, which they believe helps prevent the passage into law of ill-considered legislation.
I’m a big fan of “checks and balances”. Thankfully the female body has them: “Right Eye” and I keep “Lefty” in check. “Right Eye” is the Executive Branch; she has the right to veto the propositions “Left Eye” puts before her. And she does. Often. My brain is the Judicial branch; it has the right to overturn legislation brought forth by “Left Eye” as being unconstitutional. In other words: things which are bad for my constitution. And I do. OFTEN. The gent who called me “nipples” was not what I would call a “catch”. “Right Eye” agreed. He was an asshole. If I can control two titular heads, why couldn’t this jerk control one?
I mention this anecdote because when I visited Empty Cages Collective last week I saw nipples. After filming and taking pictures of all the beautiful cats of all ages needing homes (for over an hour) I asked who would like to come home with me. Celia, a wee little Flatbush lady, stepped forward.
That’s my backpack you’re looking at! If you’re wondering why Celia’s nipples are pert and discolored it’s because this little girl has been feeding a litter of five cats! It just goes to show that sometimes nipples are employed to do what they are designed for: nourishment. Imagine that!
Anyone interested in adopting Celia or the “Flatbush Five” should contact Empty Cages Collective at emptycagescollective (at) gmail (dot) com.
Miss Heather
P.S.: Another lovely (and lovable) young lady looking for a home is Theresa. You can learn more about her by clicking here or here!
Photo Credit: Before dispatching this pervy tomato into salad heaven I took some cheesecake photos. That was back in 2005. It was quite delicious.
TOMORROW: Burlesque At The L.E.S.
Tomorrow a fellow Greenpointer, Dizzy Swank, will be having a birthday burlesque blow-out at the Slipper Room. Tickets cost only $5.00! So if you happen to be knocking around the Lower East Side tomorrow why not swing by, check it out and wish a neighbor a happy birthday? You’ll have a lot of fun!
Burlesque Birthday Show
167 Orchard Street
New York, New York 10002
Miss Heather
Peace, Love, Understanding And All That Slop
In case the tone of my humble soap box hasn’t made it clear: I hate hippies. As a teenager the whole idea of “peace”, “love” and “understanding” made sense. Then I came of age and entered the workforce; many of my supervisors were former hippies. Baby Boomers.
I suffered a Communication Breakdown. First it was the way I wrote the number eight. I did not write the number eight like an infinity symbol. Rather, I scribed VIII by making two discrete circles atop each other. “Cindy” said it looked too much like the number 3. I was written up. I didn’t smile and say “Hi” every morning when “Cindy” came into the office. This too was noted by Human Resources and I was taken to task. As was the (second) time I brewed coffee (given to me by “Cindy” for Secretary’s Administrative Professional’s Day), noting that I would like the office vultures to leave me a cup. Then I was admonished for not fostering a “sense of community”. So much for shiny happy people holding hands.
The age old hippie argument seems to be if people can/will communicate with each other better everything will be hunky dory. I disagree. I am a firm believer in smiles and nod school of diplomacy. When someone screams at you in a foreign tongue (and you’re not standing in front of a moving bus) put on a grin, shake your head and look like you understand. Or feel really bad. Guilt becomes Americans.
Simply put, if everyone— everywhere— was better able to communicate with each other we’d be in a helluva lot more trouble than we’re already in. The U.N. would be a diverse chorus of “fuck yous” in every language imaginable with stenographers running for cover.
What is my reasoning for the previous, you ask? Very simple: 1105 Manhattan Avenue.
El Encanto Mexicano.
More specifically, what graced its front door. In Greenpoint this is tantamount to wearing your aunt Tillie’s 300 thread count white sheets at the Million Man March: highly inadvisable.
Amusingly enough, another missive was scrawled in front of Papasito’s.
Mexico Sucks!!
Papasito’s fare is very tasty, but I would not call it Mexican. When I want Oh my god where have you been all my life south of the border vittles I go to…
But did I choose to take up the matter of why Poland sucked, Mexico sucked, or Papasito’s being Cal Mex (as opposed to being more traditional) fare? No I didn’t; I simply smiled and nodded.
Miss Heather
*Very honorable mention: Taco Bite, right here in north Brooklyn. Not only do they serve up “Jamaica” (sweetened hibiscus tea) but they are the damned nice to boot. Check them out!
Ellot Goulde
Filed under: Area 51
After last weekend’s hommage I would like to go on the record and state that I had absolutely nothing to do with this (image to the left)*. For the full (funny and sort of creepy) story point and click your way over to Lost City.
Miss Heather
Photo Credit: Lost City
*Among other things, I won’t go anywhere near 42nd Street and know that Ms. Streisand’s first name is spelled B-A-R-B-R-A. At a very tender age my parents acquainted me with what is now one of my very favorite films: What’s Up Doc?
This post goes out to the Judy Maxwell in all of us! What’s Up Doc? is hilarious in a Preston Sturges kind of way. It also happens to be Madeline Kahn’s film debut. As Eunice— the nickname Pa Heather and I have for Ma Heather. Do give this film a whirl— if for no other reason than to learn a little about Miss Heather’s family dynamics. You’ll laugh a lot. Be sure to check out the trailer as well. Very funny.
Summer Is Here
Is it just me or has summer truly arrived here in New York Shitty? Sure the calender indicates this season arrived back in June and our weather has been unseasonably cool and wet— but I am not one to trifle with empirical data. I leave the crunching of dates and statistics to the experts.
Rather, I am talking about anger. Lots of it. The later the sun sets, the more surly people get. In the last week alone I have seen two people ripping someone a new asshole on Manhattan Avenue. The fact that the objects of their respective ire were not visible to the naked eye is immaterial. We New Yorkers undergo a transformation in summer. It’s not necessarily a pretty one either. Thankfully the city has seen fit to provide us with an ample amount of advertising to take the edge off.
Case In Point: The Visiting Nurse Service of New York
I am of the understanding that there is a lot of money to be made in advertising. Or at the very least a lot of money is spent on it. One would think that during their “focus group” session someone at this ad agency would have had the presence of mind to point out that thought-provoking, “worst case scenario” missives are lost on G train patrons.
Waiting for long periods of time at sewage stench-laden stations to ride what was recently deemed the filthiest subway line in the city predisposes one towards a certain kind of existentialist cynicism.
As does being forced to look at the 21st century’s solution to Jocelyn Wildenstein.
No sir, Ms. Dickinson’s heavily air brushed bod doesn’t sweeten the pot one bit.
What’s more, reminders that some of us might stand to lose a pound or two only pisses us off.
I quite aware that advertising sees fit to capitalize off the viewer’s vanity/insecurity. (That’s the only reason I can think of why someone has seen fit to market hair dye for pubic hair, anyway.) When one rides the G train such frippery goes straight out the window. Who cares about looking good (or having dignity for that matter) when he (or she) is doing his (or her) best not to throw up?
Think about it.
Miss Heather
UPDATE: It looks like the folks at 23rd – Ely aren’t too big on Ms. Dickinson either.
P.S.: If any advertising/product placement wizards are reading this, give Greenpoint more Dexter posters. We seem to like those.
Crosstown Local Photo du Jour: Clinton – Washington, Part II
Filed under: Area 51
Looks like the Ben Stiller fan club will not be convening in Clinton Hill anytime soon.*
Miss Heather
*Yes, Ben Stiller actually has fans.
Crosstown Local Photo du Jour: Clit – On – Washington
Because fighting global warming or finding a cure for cancer pale in comparison to the untold legions of G train patrons in dire need of pink pubic hair.*
God I love America.
Miss Heather
*I can only wonder if this “hot pink” dye is permanent. If it isn’t I suspect/hope we’ll be seeing men with pink “beards”.
UPDATE: This advertisement can now be found on the Smith – 9th bound platform at Greenpoint Avenue…
and the Rockaway bound platform of the L at Lorimer Street.
NYS Flickr Pool
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