Brown Suede

January 18, 2007 ·
Filed under: Dog Shit, Dung of the Day 

Today’s “Dung of the Day” comes from 96 Dupont Street. At a distance the bottle of deodorant looked like an “adult novelty item”. Maybe it was employed for that purpose, who knows? I don’t put anything past anyone anymore.

Brown Suede

As I was taking the above photo a local meathead* (repairing his pick-up truck) shouted “You think that (picture) will end up hanging in a museum?”

My answer: I hope so.

And I do. If for no other reason because the dean of my graduate school would be forced to publicly kiss my butt (in the hopes of getting a little alumni cash/publicity). He ran the fine arts department like it was his own little banana republic: summoning and cancelling “mandatory” meetings with no regard for the schedules of his charges peons.

After he did this one too many times, I brought a puppet to an inter-departmental meeting and fielded all my questions/comments to him through her. Talk to the hand (or in this case, the puppet). And he did: in front of 40+ people, including a couple professors.

I still have “Rat Girl“. She has a few (more) things she’d like to say to him.

Miss Heather

*This is not meant as an insult. I like meatheads. I find their prosaic, yet razor-sharp, take on things refreshing.

Freeman Street Dog Shit Sign

January 18, 2007 ·
Filed under: Dog Shit Signage 

Boy am I happy I got today’s dog shit fact-finding trip done this morning: it’s starting to snow! Above one of the MANY piles of shit I documented was a new dog doo sign to add to my collection!

Freeman Street Sign

Yes, it is GROSS.

Stay tuned: a new “Crap Map” and numerous pie charts are in the works!

Miss Heather

Everyone Mark Your Calendar!

January 17, 2007 ·
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic 

Polski Hip Hop

I saw this poster on the way to the post office this morning. After laughing my ass off (for too many reasons to list here) I thought to myself: I bet this ‘festival’ testosterone-a-thon would be fucking hilarious to check out.

I can already smell the gallons of Axe cologne not-so-effectively concealing the fruity vanilla undertones of B.O., stale beer and illegal steriods. Perhaps it’ll be ladies’ night? And by “Ladies’ Night” I mean the bartender will give women GHB gratis so they can spike their own drinks. This would cut out the ‘middle-man’ and save precious time often wasted on chit-chat or learning someone’s name.

“Borixon” particularly intrigues me. I imagine this word (phrase?) probably means something especially tough in Polish, but to my virgin ears it sounds like something you’d slather on a rash or use to clean your toilet. Seriously. He might as well call himself “MC Milky Discharge” (and his “Klymidia Kru”), “DJ CLo-ROXXX” or “MC Scrubbing Bubble”.

Say— I like the ring of that last one! I wonder if I can find a jeweler around here who can knock out a blinged-out gold medallion with my new ‘street name’ on it before the 19th? I best start looking now, time is running out!

WORD.

Miss Heather (AKA “MC Scrubbing Bubble”)

Dung of the Day

January 16, 2007 ·
Filed under: Bum Shit, Dung of the Day 

Today’s “Dung of the Day” hails from 1031 Manhattan Avenue. Although it is not my general practice to give turds ‘titles’, I am going to make an exception for this extraordinary fecal find. Henceforth this melange of shit, toilet paper and a solitary toy soldier (all conveniently located near the bus stop for the B61 and B43!) is “Stay the Course”.

Stay the course

Miss Heather

Blue Chip Snatch from Orange County

January 16, 2007 ·
Filed under: Area 51 

It seems like every fucking subway station I have been to lately is plastered posters pimping “The Real Housewives of Orange County”. I am getting VERY tired at looking at these women’s faces. Faces that have undoubtedly been made uglier by spending enough money on cosmetic surgery to feed a third-world nation.

One of the many reasons I live in Greenpoint is to get away from these kind of people. Merely being on the other side of the continent isn’t distance enough; I want the Hudson and the East Rivers between us for good measure.

Needless to say, I was happy to discover that somebody else shares my sentiment. I found the following upgraded “Housewives” poster at 45 St./Court Square this weekend.

Blue Chip Snatch

Miss Heather

Best Job Interview Ever

January 15, 2007 ·
Filed under: 11211, Area 51, Dog Shit, Dung of the Day, Williamsburg, Williamsburg Brooklyn 

Although I take pride and derive much satisfaction from being the proprietress of New York Shitty, it does have its complications. My desire to expand my Shitty Empire (and pay off student loan debt) has necessitated that I seek permanent part-time employment. I suspect I speak for a number of people when I say that my accomplishments (thus far) merit praise and prove my worthiness to be the Mayor of this fine city (or at least hold a seat on Community Board 1). However, The Dog Shit Queen of Greenpoint (with all the responsibilities, powers and privileges vested therein) is not exactly the kind of position one can cite on a resume— or explain to some HR hack.

Or is it?

Recently I came across a “Help Wanted” advertisement on Craigslist for a dog walker. Follows is a condensed version of the job requirements (my comments in boldface):

I want to hear from you if:

# You are a 100% reliable person. No “no shows” or last minute “call ins.”
# You must love animals – particularly the canines. Experience with dog walking, ASPCA, shelters is preferred.
# This is an outside job that can be dirty sometimes. If you are resilient to rain, wind,snow,(soon) sun, cold, poop and have a keen eye for chicken bones read on…if not please don’t apply. WAIT— I have a keen eye for chicken bones!
# You must have a cellphone, digi camera or cellcam and a computer with internet
After some thought I finally concluded that this woman probably wants photographic evidence that “Fluffy” or “Fido” did a deuce. God, what is this world coming to???
# You must be a US citizen
Illegals do just about every other crappy job (no pun intended) in this country, why are you being so choosy?
# You will submit to a criminal background check
# I prefer you live in Williamsburg, Greenpoint or Bushwick maybe Clinton Hill. This is a part time job so a long commute makes no sense.
# I need you to be available M-F 11:30 am to 4:00 pm. There may be some weekend work too but I will only hire someone who is available during weekdays.

Please copy, paste and answer all of the following questions into your response. The Subject line must read “Part Time Dog Walker” – if it says anything else it will not be opened. Um, this is a dog walker ad, it’s not the fucking SAT for chrissakes!

Subject Line : Part Time Dog Walker
(Just in case you didn’t get it the first time.)

# 1.Your full name:
# 2 Your cell phone#:
# 3.Tell me why you want to be a dog walker?
Let’s cut the crap: no one wants to be a dog walker. It has been my observation that people WORK so they have a roof over their head and food in their stomachs.
# 4.What experience with animal care, if any, do you have?
Five cats and one husband. A good friend of mine asks me to walk her dog when her regular dog walker calls out sick; she says I am the only other person her dog will poop for. My presence encourages defecation. I have the face that launched a thousand shits. I’ve even had a pigeon crap on my head once. That sucked.

# 5.Will you submit to a background check?
Sure, why not? I’ve always had the presence of mind NOT to get caught.
# 6.Are you always available M-F 11:30am to 4pm?
# 7.What neighborhood do you live in? What train line do you live near?
# 8.Do you own a bicycle? A camera?
I do not own a bicycle but I DO own a digital camera. In fact, I had to upgrade my Flick’r account because I had over 200 pictures of dog shit and ran out of space. Does this count?
# 9.What is the highest level of education you have completed? I have a Master’s Degree in Fine Art from Parsons School of Design and graduated magna cum laude with a BFA in Fine Art and a minor in History. Both of the previous degrees are suicide pacts with poverty. However, I am ready, willing and able to converse with “Fido” about art theory, Lacan, Heidegger, Spanish History, Latin American History and (for your leftist chicano canine clientele) Liberation Theology.
# 10.Are you planning any vacations in the next 3 months? WTF? If I go on a trip will I get paged to pick up some errant piece of crap on Ainslie Street or something?
# 11.This is a part time job (7 to 12 hrs week). Are you employed elsewhere? What do you do?
# 12.Last one! Tell me what hobbies/interests you have, what you’re about.
*A-hem*

* Location: williamsburg

* Compensation: $100 to $150 per week. 7 hours to 12 hours week. Approx.

After doing the math, I deduced that this job pays between $12.00 and $14.00 an hour. Most of the part-time Administrative jobs I have found (that am qualified to hold) pay less. MUCH LESS. Suffice it to say that I find it oh so refreshing to see that unpaid interns (READ: slave labor) have become such an integral part of the administrative workforce.

Truth be told, ALL work entails shoveling shit, be it literally or figuratively. Picking up dog shit appears to be the more lucrative use of my time. This is a pretty damning indictment of our society (and the values it espouses) if you ask me. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised given our nation’s increasing reliance on a service-based job growth: scooping up designer dog dung cannot be “outsourced”. Yet, anyway.

I did not reply to this ad. Although I am OK with dog shit, own a digital camera, have Internet access and a “keen eye for chicken bones”, I know damned well the first time a dog under my care wretches up/shits out parasites I will lose both my composure and my lunch! Living in Greenpoint (and NYC in general) has given me a strong stomach. Shit (canine, feline or hominid), puke, stink, noise, public masturbation, the G train, crazy homeless people and self-important rich people, while annoying, are manageable to me. Roundworms, tape worms, pin worms, etc., freak my ass out. These things are, to use Orwellian parlance, my “Room 101”.

I did, however, send a resume and cover letter regarding Help Wanted ad posted by a local publication seeking an Administrative Assistant. Not only was I qualified for this position, but I felt my being The Dog Shit Queen of Greenpoint made me one cut above my fellow applicants. It did: during the interview I had for this job last Friday.

After a slow and fitful start, my potential employer posited the following question to me:

Give me an example from your personal life that demonstrates your ability to organize.

Here’s what I told him:

As you may or may not be aware, I have a web site: New York Shitty. This web site is (mostly) about the dog shit problem in Greenpoint. I frequently take walks, though I prefer to call them “fact finding missions”, to ascertain the amount of unattended dog shit in any given area. Sometimes I cover a designated area (when I get a tip), other times I merely cover an area I happen knocking around in on that given day. I take photos of the dog shit I find, note the address where it is located and use this data to generate Crap Maps.

One time I inspected far north Greenpoint. This is area is notorious for having a lot of dog shit. As it happens, there is a retirement home that straddles Eagle and Dupont Street and I discovered that dog owners are pretty fond of taking their dogs behind this establishment and letting them shit all over the place. There must have been at least twenty pieces of dog crap there. This required particularly rigorous record-keeping on my part. Sometimes I’d make a written annotation about a noteworthy piece of poop, other times I made qualitative observations about a one piece of shit or another, etc. When you upload fifty plus pieces of pictures of poop on any given day (like I do), you need to ensure that each piece of shit corresponds to the correct address. Otherwise, the “Crap Map” will be inaccurate.

I prefer to take the time to keep exhaustive records so I can dedicate the rest of my time to constructing “Crap Maps” or doing fun stuff like making customized shit-shaped bullets for my “Poopipoint” presentations.

A lengthy and enjoyable scatological/philosophical discussion followed. Some of the topics covered were: hobo porn (“smegmen”), garbage (“offal”), the night I ended up hanging out at the Briarwood Police Station because a dude was jerking off in front of me on the N train, and of course, how I may (or may not) fit into this organizational structure. I must have been there for at least an hour.

I sent a follow-up email the next day. This email had a jpg of today’s “Dung of the Day” attached to it. Part of it read as follows:

…I thought you might enjoy the dog shit assemblage I found at a parking lot after we met. As always, I took a photo and noted the location: across the street from 212 Grand Street. After doing a little research (Google Maps and the Department of Buildings BIS database are excellent resources when a piece of property is not clearly demarcated) I deduced it that this turd was located at 215 Grand Street. I may be demented but I am detail-oriented…

Marlboro Brown

I have yet to hear back. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Then again, the satisfaction I got from talking about dog shit in a job interview is a reward unto itself. And you can’t put a price on that.

Miss Heather

Age: The Gift That Keeps on Giving

January 11, 2007 ·
Filed under: Area 51, Greenpoint Magic 

Let’s see: after running around like crazy, making phone calls, sending emails, etc., I finally have a little time to contemplate my lint-ridden navel.

As this post indicated, I recently had a birthday. I have been so busy I haven’t even had the time to celebrate it, but rest assured this will come to pass. Instead, I spent my birthday peacefully and for that I am grateful. Once you have become grounded FIRMLY in your thirties the novelty wears off, trust me.

Lackadaisically touching-up my hair has become a thing of the past; I have one petulant grey hair in the middle of my forehead that serves as constant reminder of this fact. One of these days I’ll name it. I’ve been tossing around the notion of naming this hair after one of my shitty ex-boyfriends (because I have no doubt that one of them is responsible for it), but shitty exes are to me what child molesters are to NAMBLA: there are many. Too many.

No, sir: getting older doesn’t bother me much (it’s not like I can do anything about it anyway). Being sneered at by the affluent nubiles who are rapidly (and vapidly) colonializing my ‘hood doesn’t bother me much either. I suspect know I did the same thing when I was their age and now it’s their turn. The only thing that does piss me off about getting older is being gently reminded about it by people who are OLDER than me. Misguided attempts to shame me into behaving like a responsible adult, about this I have no doubt. I have tried to be an ‘adult’: it was the worst two years of my life.

To date my favorite example of this not-so-subtle (familial) chiding was a turd of a message my husband’s aunt left on our answering machine a few months ago (for my husband’s birthday):

Hello, this is your aunt Judy wishing you a happy birthday. I suppose you’re both out painting the town red. Better enjoy it while you can because you’ll both be forty soon.

WTF?!? Perhaps I am in denial, but I find this woman (who is nearing retirement) stating (OVER A FUCKING ANSWERING MACHINE) that I’m getting old a bit hypocritical— and foolish. Unlike my husband (who is painfully nice), I have a mean streak. A mean streak, I will add, that has only gotten more virulent with age. Experience has taught me how to exact the maximum amount of punishment for the various and sundry offenses perpetrated against my person with the minimal amount of effort.

God has it ever.

Thankfully, that bag of Polaroids my buddy Racheal gave me has proven to be a veritable arsenal for my vengeance. It has become to me what the “magic bag of tricks” is to Felix the Cat. Only meaner. Much meaner.
Happy Retirement!

Guess what “Aunt Judy” is going to find in her inbox when she retires this April? Don’t everyone answer all at once…

Miss Heather

P.S.: I love the bottle of booze under his left arm. I wonder if this is some secret Greenpoint burial ritual I don’t know about?

Sullen Mutters of Revolt in Prospect Heights…

January 10, 2007 ·
Filed under: Dog Shit 

Thanks to Gawker, the “Dog Poop Brigade” has been brought to my attention. It looks like I need to make a fact-finding mission to Prospect Heights and FAST. In the meantime, I would love to see some pictures of the “big brown skidmark” on St. John’s Place— for research purposes, mind you.

Miss Heather

UPDATE 1/11/07, Early pm: I have posted a solicitation for dog shit pictures on the Brooklynian. I have yet to receive any feedback, but the day is still young. I’ll even generate a “Crap Map” if they give me enough material.

Also— I’d like to give a big shout of thanks to The Gowanus Lounge for publicizing my desire to have photographic evidence of the alleged “skidmark” on St. John’s Place.

Vigil Against Harassment

January 10, 2007 ·
Filed under: Area 51, Greenpoint Magic 

Last weekend I came across this flyer advertising a vigil against landlord harassment. I strongly recommend that anyone who has been denied essential services (such as heat or hot water) or has otherwise been harassed or intimidated by a crooked landlord should attend. The details are as follows:

Vigil Against Harassment
1/11/07, 6:00-7:30 p.m.
202 Franklin Street

Miss Heather

Dung of the Day: Guttman Style

January 9, 2007 ·
Filed under: Bum Shit, Dog Shit, Dung of the Day, Greenpoint Magic 

Today’s (admittedly FOUL) “Dung of the Day” hails near the recently-deceased Greenpoint Terminal Market. Be sure to click on the photo if you want to behold all the diarrific details. Enjoy!

Dung of the Day

Miss Heather

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