Greenpoint
Lorven Pharmacy
Culture on the Cheap
Crosstown Local Photo Du Jour: Remember?
This item comes from the camera of Dale Harris and hails from the Myrtle – Willoughby stop of the MTA’s price and joy: the G train. Here’s to two more days of shuttle bus fun!
Miss Heather
Quicklink: Warehouse 11 Goes Chapter 11?
(or the Roebling Oil Field Achieves Infamy)
My buddy at Brooklyn11211 writes:
Need a good chuckle? Before Bob, the Roebling Oil Field (as seen above in its primordial state — Ed. Note) didn’t really exist – now it is the stuff of history!
Click on the above link. Enjoy the irony and Schadenfreude. I did.
Miss Heather
Photo Credits: Robert Guskind. For more fun about the black gold under Warehouse 11 click here.
New York Shitty Day Starter: Greenpoint Snow
This image comes courtesy of the keeper of none other than Edie the Hamster: Victoria Belanger. Who, despite the lack of whiskers and paws, is charming and amazingly talented in her own right. Lovely shot!
Miss Heather
LAST GASP: A Greenpoint Blind Item
What Greenpoint business saw fit to dispose of their rotten produce and a Windows 98 Manual in another business’s dumpster— illegally— only to find them back on their stoop this morning?
Miss Heather
P.S.: While I am on the subject of rotten tomatoes, here’s a blast from the past. Enjoy!
From The Brooklyn Daily Eagle Archives: Scandal!
This morning was an eventful one at Chez Shitty. After a restless night I finally fell asleep— only to awaken at 7:00 a.m. to the sound of all hell breaking loose. After a thorough examination of the fuse box the Mister quickly deduced there was a power surge. This managed, in turn, to blow out the electricity in our entire apartment. Save, mercifully enough, the circuit which services our refrigerator. The exact scope of damage remains to be assessed, but as of the writing of this post the casualties appear to be:
- An alarm clock
- Our humidifier
- Our telephone (which doesn’t really upset me— I never answer it anyway)
Our Unix cluster was spared due to the Mister’s I.T. prowess (and a surge protector). Our new-ish printer (which was not plugged into said surge protector) was spared courtesy of our cat, Artemis. This pesky cable precluded him from sitting behind said printer in comfort so he saw fit to unplug it. As cantankerous as Artemis is (probably because he has been saddled with female name— FOR 16 YEARS) he has just earned his weight in gold. Or at least tuna.
But I digress.
I shuffled downstairs to tender the “good news”. As luck would have it, our landlord was already on it. He was shouting at someone on a cell phone. This precluded him from shouting at yours truly about last month’s whole “Stop Work Order” fiasco. Some days it is best to view life via bell curved glasses. Today was one of them.
Misery loves company. Which brings me to the above Fedders special and a story I accidentally unearthed via the Brooklyn Daily Eagle archives. An “implicated” young lady by the name of Libbie Penney once lived at the above location and her story has ties to a bona fide 11222 scandal. Not that it was news to Greenpointers— as you will learn. Enjoy!
This just goes to show what tee-totaling can do to a community. Drink up, 11222ers! The very moral fabric of our humble neighborhood lies on your shoulders (and in your livers).
Miss Heather
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