Greenpoint
Lorven Pharmacy
Culture on the Cheap
Belvedere XX
Filed under: Area 51
This morning it was brought to my attention that Brownstoner has discovered *gasp* a new Karl Fischer building in Greenpoint!
Uh, if my memory serves me correctly, the crappy condo construction site in question (AKA: Fort Apache, the ‘Point) has been creeping along for at least 1 1/2 years. Breaking news this edifice decidedly is not. But I do not want to suggest this feature isn’t worth reading. The comments are friggin’ hilarious. For example:
…I have heard that it no longer is residential project and may be an Orthodox Temple now.
AND
I’d actually wish for taller, more evil buildings along McGuinness if you gave me the chance. Greenpoint has sixteen-story towers going up on well-trafficked side streets, but McGuinness is really a barren place, and is a perfect contender for higher densities. At some point in the distant future, it could be an attractive boulevard people walk down, even — but scattershot small-scale buildings aren’t gonna do it. I’d actually like to see detached six-to-eight-story apartment buildings with retail, or something, like the one they’re building at McG and Driggs.
Um, okay. Anyone who has an idea this stupid and implausible should be forced to live in one of these piece of shit buildings.
On the first or second floor.
Facing the waste treatment plant.
Idiot.
Anyhoo, another (and in my opinion more important) detail Brownstoner missed is what’s going up next door.
Could it be???
YES, YES IT IS!!!
Ladies and gentleman! It gives me great pleasure to introduce to you… BELVEDERE XX!
(applause)
Miss Heather
P.S.: Be sure to check out my updated Meet the Belvederes map! Belvedere V has been added too. It’s big. It’s fug. It’s located in WILLIAMSBURG!
Rat, Splat!
Filed under: Area 51
One of the perks of being the Dog Shit Queen of Greenpoint is never knowing what will find its way to your inbox on any given day. This morning’s offering was was a dead rat.
The benefactor of this headless vermin (which I have named Marie AntoinSPLAT), “Bucketman”, writes:
So, I was wondering if you could use a pic of a Flat Rat taken yesterday in LIC. Funny thing, I found another one today in LIC but it looked exactly the same. Can you tell where the head was?
Miss Heather likes receiving a nice photo of a steam-rolled rat to savor over her morning coffee. It prepares me for the rigors of the day— and reading stuff like this*.
Miss Heather
*I am a big fan of this checklist. In fact, I like it so much I think I’ll print up a stack of ’em. Any time I experience any form of physical distress I will fill one out and send it to the city. I won’t be stingy with the details either:
Today I woke up and thought I had diarrhea. When I used the toilet nothing but gas came out. Where did my poop go? Can you help me find it?
I’ll even throw in a rendering so there won’t be any confusion as to which turd I am writing in reference to.
Dead Presidents: Madison Street
Filed under: Area 51
Yesterday 11222 was kind enough to bring another extinct Greenpoint street to my attention. She writes:
I think the streets below Franklin all had different names, because Oak St. is not Oak St. between Franklin and West – i can’t recall the name now but it’s got a nice old brick street name block that is beautiful when the light is right.
Immediately upon reading this I threw on a pair of shoes, grabbed my camera and walked down there. She was right.
After a little research I learned that there were (at one time or another) two Madison Streets and two Madison Places in Brooklyn. In fact, the above-depicted street was once known as “Madison Place” as well. Wouldn’t you love to be a mailman in say, 1890? I wouldn’t. Yikes.
The other “dead presidents” of Greenpoint (as I like to call them) are:
- Washington (now known as West Street)
- Lincoln (now known as Greenpoint avenue)
- Jefferson (I am still trying to pin this one down, but it was located in the far southeastern section of Greenpoint)
The only surviving president Postmaster General we Garden Spotters have top boast of is Franklin Street, and it too came close to getting the ax.
Miss Heather
P.S.: On the way home I found another unexpected treat.
As some of your may be aware, the streets of north Greenpoint run in alphabetical order from north to south. This is no accident. Initially these streets had no “names” at all. They were lettered, e.g., “A” Street, “B” Street, “C” Street, and so forth. The above example of the old system can be found at the southeast corner of Noble and Franklin Street.
Free/Cheap Summer Movie Roundup
Filed under: Area 51
I have been woefully remiss in mentioning L Magazine’s SUMMERSCREEN: a series of free movie screenings at McCarren Park. This started last Tuesday with Bring It On. Whoops. Better late than never, I suppose. Especially since this evening’s selection is a big favorite of mine: Night of the Hunter.
This is a seriously fucked up movie. I highly recommend it. If you can bear the stifling heat this evening give it a shot. You will not be disappointed.
Summerstage 7/10:
Night of the Hunter
McCarren Park
Lorimer Street between Driggs and Bayard Avenue
Doors open at 7:00 p.m.
In addition, Creek and Cave is hosting Tripadelic Pleasure Night every Thursday this summer. Outdoor movies start at 9:00 p.m. and “drink specials rock soul groove tunes exploitation flicks all night at the bar” are promised. Upcoming offerings include:
7/12: Evil Dead II
7/19: Pink Floyd Live at Pompeii
7/26: Death Race 2000 (!!! — Ed. Note)
8/2: Pulp Fiction
To view the entire roster of movies, please visit to their Myspace page.
Creek and Cave
10-91 Jackson Avenue
Long Island City, NY
718-706-8783
Lastly, Greenpoint’s very own East Coast Aliens Cineclub is closed for the summer. Movie screenings will resume after Labor Day.
Oh well. As Meatloaf once opined: two out of three ain’t bad…
East Coast Aliens
216 Franklin Street
Brooklyn, NY 11222
718-514-7625
www.eastcoastaliens.com
Miss Heather
Art Credit: Miss Heather
Art Event for Animal Lovers
Filed under: Area 51
Little Cakes Gallery has a two-part show opening this week for art and animal lovers of all stripes. Their press release states:
Little Cakes Little Gallery in association with HPGRP Gallery presents:
Forever Home – a two part benefit for New York City Animal Care and Control’s “Big Fix†and “STAR†programs.
New York City is home to many happily pampered pets; dogs that run and play at dog runs, cats that dine on organic, grain-free meals, animals that are cherished as part of the family. Unfortunately, at the same time, the city overflows with unwanted pets. New York City Animal Care and Control (NYCAC&C), the non-profit organization contracted by the city’s Health Department, takes in over 40,000 of these animals every year through out the five boroughs. It has the tough task of having to admit every single animal surrendered to them, whereas other agencies may pick and choose or deny admission. Our hope for Forever Home is not only to raise money for AC&C’s programs but to also help promote them as an alternative to purchasing a pet and to inspire viewers to get involved and volunteer, if not at AC&C, with any organization that deals with issues they feel passionately about. During the run of the two exhibitions, there will be one day volunteer opportunities at Little Cakes Gallery to make cage comforters and kitty toys for those who want to get their feet wet. Please check the Little Cakes website for times and dates.
The group photo exhibition will be held at HPGRP Gallery in the Meat Packing District from July 12th to July 28th, 2007. An opening reception for both shows will be held at HPGRP Gallery on Thursday, July 12th from 6-8pm. Vegan hors d’oeuvres will be served.
HPGRP Gallery / 32-36 Little West 12th Street, 2nd Floor
New York, NY 10014
212-727-2491
hpgrpgallery.com
Gallery Hours – Tues. thru Sat. 12-6pm
The following evening a drawing exhibition will open at Little Cakes Gallery at 625 East 6th Street:
Forever Home – a group drawing exhibition to benefit AC&C’s “STAR†Special Treatment and Recovery program which provides special medical treatment to injured animals rescued by AC&C. The show will feature small works by over thirty artists depicting a variety of different animals. A full list of artists will be available on the Little Cakes website at the start of the show. Little Cakes will be unveiling its’ first T-Shirt during the show. An illustration of a happy three legged dog by artist Josh Slater will be printed on organic cotton shirts. Partial proceeds from the shirt will also go towards the benefit. They will be available for purchase at the gallery and online for $20.
The group drawing exhibition will be held from July 13th to August 19th, 2007. There will be no opening at Little Cakes. Instead we will be celebrating at HPGRP Gallery on July 12th from 6-8pm. Please see photo exhibition information for details.
Little Cakes Little Gallery
625 East 6th Street #1B
New York, NY 10009
646-342-1056
www.littlecakes.org
Gallery Hours – Fri. thru Sun. 1-6pm and by appointment
Check it out!
Miss Heather
Drawing Credit: Josh Slater
Bucketman
Two Words:
Watch ThisMiss Heather
P.S.: Thanks Steve from Astoria for bringing this to my attention!
How to Purchase Previously Owned Porn: A Primer
I always dread the first Friday of the month. “First Fridays”, as my buddy Rachael calls them, are very busy days at the junk shop. She says it’s because this is the day people get their public assistance checks. Maybe this is true, maybe it isn’t. If it is, I can tell you what the taxpayers’ money was outlaid on in my little corner of Greenpoint today: PORN.
BAD PORN.
Before I continue:
- It is not the purpose of this post to malign people who receive public assistance. A person may lack money, but that does not mean he (or she) lacks integrity, intelligence or worth. More often than not all the previous qualities render a person poor. I speak from experience.
- It is not the purpose of this post to malign people who spend their public assistance on porn. Everyone deserves a diversion from the misery of their daily life. Especially those in the throes of poverty. Let them eat c*m— or better yet— watch someone else eat it for them. That sticky substance is catharsis for many a down-trodden person. “What’s that strange taste in my mouth?” you ask. It’s freedom. Spit or swallow. The decision is yours to make. The good ol’ U.S. of A. is a democracy after all.
- Rather, it is the purpose of this post to establish proper etiquette for buying porn, as it became very manifest today that such ground rules need to be set. Here they are.
Rule #1: Do not buy your porn from a thrift store.
Rule #2: If you find yourself in the position of having to purchase porn from a thrift store, don’t be an asshole.
The rest of this post will explore Rule #2.
Porno Pointer A
Any attempt to be sly about perusing porn is a waste of effort.
Today I finally commandeered more space to put out craft supplies and bargain bags of earrings. Immediately to my left was a chap foraging through a sizable container of DVDs. Though a recent addition to the store, we all knew what it contained:
- Four or five DVDs of “mainstream” movies
- A lot of porn, most of which involved inserting large objects up a woman’s rectum
As I was organizing this man hunched over this cache of affordable and no-strings-attached female companionship like a miser. He thought I would think that cinematic flicks such as The Fugitive (which was in said container) were the target of his dogged search. He was wrong. His attempt at subterfuge was pathetic.
This man was a picky poonhound. After much consideration Black-eyed Pees did not make the cut. I immediately brought this to my coworker’s attention. We laughed our asses off. Which brings me to the next titulation tip…
Porno Pointer B
Those of you who are thinking:
Gee, I bet these folks see people come in and buy this stuff all the time. If I want to buy Super-sized Black Booty Butt Plungers #87, they won’t think anything of it. This is normal, right?
WRONG.
Speaking as someone who has gone through boxes purchased at storage facility auctions, I have had plenty of moments when I find myself saying, “Ewwwww, GROSS.” You get used to finding the odd butt plug, cock ring or stacks of Juggs magazines. And worse.
You do NOT, however, get used to seeing a woman with a mop handle shoved up her nether-regions. Consider yourself warned because…
Porno Pointer C
We will talk about you behind your back. Your sexual eccentricities are our entertainment. Learn to live with this fact or:
- acquire some social skills and get a girlfriend
- buy porn made by companies who do not treat women like garbage
- get therapy
- all of the above
Porno Pointer D
Perversion has a price. Asking $5.00 for a gently used copy of Let’s Get Our Orgy On or Big Black Women with Little White Chicks is not at all unreasonable. What IS unreasonable is trying to haggle the price down because “other video stores sell these types of movies for $2.00.”
The previous sentence speaks volumes about your life(style). It is not a very flattering portrait.
Porno Pointer DD
Further attempts to justify a lower price will not work. What’s more, approaching the solitary female employee of the store with the hope of exploiting her lack of adult entertainment expertise might backfire. Which brings me to…
Porno Pointer E
Do not insult Miss Heather
What we’ve got here is… failure to communicate. Some men you just can’t reach. So you get what we had here
last weektoday, which is the way he wants it… well, he gets it.
Miss H: Yes, I am aware these movies are of inferior quality. Jenna Jameson, they are not.
Pornophile: These movies are nothing more than footage culled from other movies.
Miss H: Yes, I know what “loops” are. I recently read Jenna Jameson’s biography, you should read it.
Pornophile: Did you learn anything from it?
Miss H: I was merely stating that it was interesting book. You should read it. You might learn something. (And being a cocksucker isn’t one of them, this dude has clearly mastered that art already . — Ed. Note)
*Chirp, chirp*
After taking ten seconds to deduce that he had been insulted by a broad, this dude transgressed…
Porno Pointer F
Appealing to another store employee in order to secure a low(er) price for porn is a futile endeavor. In the above case study this sad attempt at duplicity backfired. Big time. The price went up: $16.00.
And this chap tendered it. He even had the temerity to ask for a bag to conceal his salacious purchases. Had I been alone I would have told him we had none. Asshole.
After this episode I ventured out to forage lunch-time vittles. I was hungry. I was pissed. I needed to vent. So, as I was walking along McGuinness Boulevard with my newly acquired foodstuffs, I called my husband.
Miss H: …Remember that Hare Krishna looking dude we saw on the G train last weekend? The guy with the pants you liked?
Husband: Yes.
Miss H: That motherfucker tried to stiff me! He tried to tell me what loops were versus full length features. Like I don’t know the difference.
Husband: That was dumb.
Miss H: Yes it was. Who the fuck does this dude think he is? I’m not fucking stupid, you know. Give me a fucking break!
It was at this moment I noticed there was a woman walking behind me. A pregnant woman. A pregnant and very horrified woman. She looked like she had seen a ghost.
Let’s review:
- I was walking down McGuinness Boulevard shouting into a cell phone.
- I was walking down McGuinness Boulevard shouting into a cell phone while clad in a pair of hip-hugging stretch pants (rolled up to the knee), a yellow tank top with a black bra underneath (need to do laundry) and large sunglasses. My hair is currently blond. VERY BLOND. Long story— let’s just say that I recently had an epiphany: if Britney Spears can (still) dress like Britney Spears, so can I.
- I was shouting about someone trying to “stiff me”.
- Now subtract the previous telephonic exchange from my (previous and lengthy) context.
I am not so egotistical to think I am of professional porn caliber. I am not. Never was. Greenpoint has more, uh, LAX standards for such a sinecure. I know this because I have found “home grown” porn strewn on my block. You could probably stuff a sow in a negligee and get takers. Yes, it’s that’s bad.
When I got back to work, lunch in hand, my coworker was busy helping another customer. This man was— get this— BUYING PORN.
Lather.
Rinse.
Repeat.
NEXT WEEK: Customers say the darnedest things. AKA; Don’t try to understand ’em, just rope, throw and brand ’em.
Miss Heather
McCarren Park’s New Leash Law
I came across the above annotated sign at McCarren Park recently. Why do I not find this surprising? Perhaps the fact this dog run is the stomping grounds of the notorious Williamsburg gentile fondler has something to do with it?
Yeah, that’s it.
Miss Heather
Toxic Waste in Greenpoint
Feeling the holiday spirit, I decided to whip up some tasty goodies to nibble on July 4th. My menu du jour was:
- Tomato Salad
- Baked Eggplant
- Hummus
- Brie
- Sourdough baguette
All the previous were delicious, by the way. But the purpose of this post is not to boast of my culinary prowess. Rather, it is to expound upon an unpleasant task I had to perform BEFORE prepping the above foodstuffs: cleaning out the refrigerator.
Since I have more time at my disposal (and have a lower threshold for abject filth), I perform most of the household cleaning. I do not want to suggest that my husband does nothing; he does some work— just not as much.
I am by no means a poster child for stellar home economics myself; when one of our cats throws up I usually wait a little while before cleaning it up. I do this because more often than not one of our other cats will come along and eat it. This apartment is a little ecosystem and why should I be so presumptuous as to tamper with it— especially since if it means there is less work for me to do? I ascribe to the Tom Sawyer work ethic: why whitewash a fence if you can trick some rube into doing it for you? Work smart, not hard.
The previous having been said, yes I was a co-enabler of the horrors you are about to behold. But— and this is a BIG BUT— I am not the only person in this household to blame. Capiche?
The last 2-3 weeks I have been insanely busy. My husband, however, recently took seven days off.
Seven.
Days.
Off.
Question: What happens when Heather is running around like a madwoman because she has to work extra hours and has no Internet or telephone service?
Answer: Nothing. And by “nothing” I mean our refrigerator continues its transformation from a place of nourishment into something more akin to Chernobyl.
Tuesday, July 3rd, 5:30 p.m.
After a whole day of procrastination I finally got the wherewithal to confront my enemy: several months of festering foodstuffs. I was assisted and/or anesthetized by several glasses White Zinfindel. To do such an onerous and repulsive task completely sober was decidedly NOT an option. The following rogue’s gallery of rotten food should help you understand why. (If you have the means, please play “The End” by the Doors while viewing. — Ed. Note)
Exhibit A
Estimated Age: Three Months
Getting my husband to eat vegetables is a bit of a task. For this reason I will occasionally put rice in my tomato salad as an enticement. The white stuff in the above salad is not rice.
Exhibit B
Estimated Age: Four Months
This is was Nigerian Bean Stew. I got the recipe from Madhur Jaffrey’s World Vegetarian Cookbook. Since I only make this dish during cooler, wet months (because it bears a strong similarity to chili), I estimate its age to be four months.
Exhibit C
Estimated Age: Unknown
…don’t you make make brown rice blue…
I have no friggin idea how old this is. When I threw it into the garbage can a puff of blue dust tickled my nostrils. Scrumptious.
Exhibit D
Estimated Age: Probably three months
I couldn’t find a “eat by” date on this container. This made me a little nervous, as rotten dairy food makes one helluva stink.
*Whew!* It’s just a bunch of rotten onions. Judging from how coursely they are chopped, I can safely state that this is my husband’s handiwork.
Exhibit E
Estimated Age: Three— possibly four— months
Of all the rotten food I sorted, this one by far smelled the worst.
When I was a kid my parents had some friends who had a son my age. These people also had a teenage son who would occasionally be charged with babysitting the two of us. Big mistake.
One time he sat us at his grandparent’s house in California. Both his grandparents had emphysema and would cough up lung cookies into a coffee can. One time, when I was left alone with this sadistic motherfucker, he shoved my face into this can. I mention this story because the above goo reminds me of what I saw.
The previous is only a selection of the revolting substances I handled last Tuesday. There was more. Much, much more. When my husband arrived home I stood in the kitchen, seething. Upon noticing that I had cleaned out the refrigerator he said:
…I had been meaning to do that but I was waiting…
“FOR ME TO DO IT!” I bellowed.
Nothing else was said.
And on that note, dear readers, I too have nothing else to say. Save perhaps that I have left a “present” in the refrigerator for my husband to find. I won’t say what it is, but I will tell you it is six months old.
Miss Heather
Happy 4th of July from Greenpoint!
Filed under: Area 51
Those of you who are jonesing for a little audio entertainment while you barbecque might want to listen to the first installment of my “sound-seeing tour” of Greenpoint over at Mikeypod. Check it out. I hope you have as much fun listening to it as I had doing it!
Miss Heather
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