Greenpoint
Lorven Pharmacy
Culture on the Cheap
Kissing Betty
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
After discovering a disproportionate amount of phallic imagery waiting for the G train Monday night, I simply cannot get “dick”out of my mind. Wishing to know whether or not penile fixations were a Garden Spot phenomenon, I ran a Google search using the terms “Greenpoint” and “dick”. Follows is the first thing that came up.
I am not kidding. There is a web site called GreenpointUSA and they do, indeed, have “Pet Dicks” for sale. Here is an excerpt of the accompanying advertising copy:
…The skillful hands of the artist painstakingly massage their Dick from the limp, flaccid state of the raw Polymer material. Gently rubbing and texturing the shaft, head, and balls, while preparing to get the Dick hot and hard. During the bake-off, the artist keeps a watchful eye as to not get the Dick too hot, too fast. Finally, the moment of satisfaction as the artist takes their Dick out. Sometimes gently blowing the Dick with their mouth to get it to its final state of hardness.
There has been many-a-time when the artist got so close to their little Dicks that they just wouldn’t let go. However, in the interest and true spirit of contributing Dick to the world, they soon agree to part company with their Dicks. Their satisfaction is evident in their own testimonials:
“It’s a wonderful feeling to see the expression on their faces when you take your Dick out in front of a stranger.”
“I love my job because I get to do Dick all day.”
“After a long day of rubbing, and twisting, there’s nothing like the feel of a hard Dick in your hand.”
Maybe there is something (else) in the water here? In any case, we Greenpointers love us some dick. So much so that they sometimes get the better of us. That’s what happened to Martin Schlotter when he hired Betty Kohn as a housekeeper per an article from the May 28, 1888 edition of The Brooklyn Daily Eagle I discovered via GreenpointUSA after doing a little, a-hem, Christmas shopping. Enjoy!
Lest any of you are wondering, three days later Ms. Kohn was awarded her twelve dollars.
Miss Heather
Pet Dick Photo Credit: GreenpointUSA
Christmas Comes Early to Greenpoint!
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
Today I discovered something blissfully amiss during my sojourn along Manhattan Avenue.
Hmm. Something’s different here, but I just can’t put my finger on it. Maybe looking at a photo from last week would help?
Yes, something certainly has changed.
Oh wait, I got it! This pole has inexplicably moved itself two feet to the east!
Or did it? We Greenpointers have been very good this year, after all. This may very well be so the handiwork of Santa and his little elves.
Miss Heather
G is for Gonads, Part II
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
Yet another gem from the Smith and 9th Street bound platform of the G.
Although I cannot explain why, this just keeps getting funnier every time I look at it.
Miss Heather
G is for Gonads!
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
Last night I ventured into Manhattan to attend Gothamist‘s holiday party. I have long wanted to meet Jen Chung and thank her for finding Julie, my former feline neighbor/bodega cat a new home. And I did.
It took me three subway lines and two transfers to make it happen, but I didn’t mind. Unlike my fellow go-getters, having no “direct access” to Manhattan does not bother me. I travel at a leisurely pace in life, so the Crosstown Local (AKA: the “G”) suits me perfectly.
Some of you might remember the post I wrote about the above annotated poster(s). If not, you can read about it here. I despise the “marker-proofing” of these advertisements. If forced to look at some tart’s “package” while waiting for the G, I should have the right to comment about it— or better yet— force said tart stare at my “package”. Freedom of discourse.
Thankfully we Greenpointers…
have risen to the challgenge.
Behold, the (s)Hit(wo)man!
What is this?
There’s nothing a nice heterosexual gal likes to do more than to mount some penis.
Oh, they meant Dick.
Sorry, I am not into five-ways or living in a police state.
Miss Heather
Way To Go, Pistilli Realty!
Filed under: Area 51
Remember the post I wrote last Thursday berating the deplorable conditions at the Astral? If not, here is an excerpt to jog your memory:
“…the Astral Apartments is the most perfect type of an apartment house in the world.”
Not anymore. That “playground†where children once played has become a dog shit smeared den of inequity for the Superintendent and his harem. So much for those “ample sanitary requirements†as well: mold growing on ceilings and an unabated bedbug infestation are two of the least sanitary things I can think of. Then again, could I honestly expect anything different from the fine minds who brought us this?
Well as irony would have it, Mr. Pistilli was honored by the Queens Chamber of Commerce for the above opus turd the very same day! Queens Crap writes:
Next time you are on this side of the Creek, pick up a copy of the Queens Gazette. It’s a real laugh riot.
This is not a joke. Click on the above image and read this piece of hilarity from the Queens Gazette for yourself.
Miss Heather
P.S.: On a (somewhat) related note, do check out the bedbug poetry over at Bedbuggers. Funny stuff.
Greenpoint Pay Phone Du Jour: Manhattan Avenue
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
E.T. sure seems to get around.
Miss Heather
‘Tis The Season: Franklin Street
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
Remember that lemur that was getting buggered by E.T. over on Franklin Street?
Well, they have broken up.
E.T. is hanging out with Santa, the Hulk and Mickey Mouse.
I’m not too sure what the lemur is doing, but it looks kind of painful.
Miss Heather
Belvedere Blow Out!
It has been some time since I have written about my buddies over at Belvedere Partners, so today I am going to redress this egregious oversight on my part and give the scoop on two, count ’em, TWO new Belvederes! Excited yet? If not, you should be dear readers!
Belvedere XII: 150 Java Street
In keeping with the Belvedere landscape architecture paradigm, the entire frontage has received a heaping helping of cement. Planting trees and shrubs are for bleeding heart liberals who don’t appreciate the value-added qualities of concrete.
Can you find the Belvedere in this picture?
You can’t? No worries, I have gone to the trouble of labeling it for you. Belvederes have a chameleon-like tendency to blend in with 100+ year old row houses. Even ones half their size. Uncanny.
Belvedere XXIV: 490 Morgan Avenue
Have you ever wondered what would happen if the aesthetic savants at Belvedere got their hands on an existing piece of property? If so, wonder no more. I have the answer: they will make it look total and utter shit.
Photographs scarcely do this masterpiece justice. One really needs to go to 490 Morgan Avenue and behold it in all its half-assed glory in person. Not only is the “D” missing from “Belvedere”, but the cheesy lanterns gracing the front door are not even mounted straight. Nice.
Burglar bars: CHECK.
Friedrich and Fedders Boxes: CHECK.
Stucco: CHECK.
Oil storage facility down the block: CHECK.
I have long been mystified as to what “system” Belvedere uses to number their serialized schlock. Thankfully, a thorough examination of Belvedere XXII has helped me to understand the why and wherefore behind the numbering its distant cousin at 490 Morgan Avenue: it sucks twice as hard.
Haven’t had enough suckiness, you say? You crave yet more Belvedere hilarity? Check out the new Flash introduction on their web site. Belvedere Partners must be strapped for cash if they can’t hire a professional to straighten that crooked “R” on their store front. In fact, things must be really bad if the President of the company can’t outlay $4.00 for a box of Nice ‘n Easy and touch up those roots. If Mayor Mike really wanted to beautify Greenpoint he would stop planting trees, lock this woman in a beauty salon and refuse to let her out until that shit matches.
Miss Heather
‘Tis The Season: Wythe Avenue
Analysis: before one can love others he/she needs to learn how to love him/herself.
Miss Heather
Doublespeak or What The Fuck…
Filed under: Area 51
am I eating?!?
There are a number of reasons why I am a vegetarian. The above sign (from Devoe Street) is yet another one.
Miss Heather
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