Greenpoint
Lorven Pharmacy
Culture on the Cheap
Dung of the Day: Poopi the Clown
As it happens, one of my best friends works at the Key Food on McGuinness Boulevard. A few weeks ago she advised me to check out Newel Street south of Greenpoint Avenue because “it can get pretty funky back there”. She went on to tell me that she saw a Starbucks cup full of dog shit there recently. I suspect I speak for all of us when I say that I am gravely disappointed that she didn’t have her camera with her when she made this discovery.
Yesterday I snooped around Newel and it is quite “funky” indeed. Dog shit is only one of the many ‘treaures’ to be found there. I saw a dead pigeon, a television set from the 70’s, numerous beer bottles, and an array of electronics (computers?) that had the living daylights smashed out of them. Right there on the street. Fascinating.
After some thought, I made my selection for “Dung of the Day”. This little guy not only has character, but he is also situated near the rear exit of the Key Food. This is where my friend takes out the garbage from the deli. I left a little something to say “Hi”.
Everyone give a big warm welcome to Poopi the Clown!
Miss Heather
Jihadi Kitty
When not documenting dog shit, I set aside time to tackle some of life’s more vexatious questions. The list of questions laid before me is quite long and includes:
- Where is the goddamn remote?
- Why can’t my husband put his used panties in the dirty laundry hamper?
- What did I do to deserve this?
- Why doesn’t Sanrio make a Islamic fundamentalist Hello Kitty doll? I have seen French Hello Kitties, Brazilian Hello Kitties, even Hello Kitties dressed up like The Statue of Liberty, but alas, there was no gun-toting, Koran-quoting, burqa-wearing Hello Kitty to be found anywhere…
Until today.
I decided that if such a doll didn’t exist, it should, and set forth with my 20+ years sewing experience to make this happen.
In case you are wondering: yes, she does have a gun.
Miss Heather
Pulaski Day Mischief
I am surprised that the creations I featured in this post got any attention, much less an edit mention by The Gowanus Lounge and some nice words from Judy McGuire. Moving forward, I will showcase more of my OJAY-DE-ARTAY when the mood suits me. That said…
I woke up today in a strange mental state. My husband can attest that I have been in a decidely agitated, drinkin’, fightin’, ‘fuck authority’ kind of mood. ALL DAY. I had almost forgotten that October 1 is Pulaski Day; thankfully my ‘inner-Pole’ always manages to remind me just in time.
I will not suffer 30+ years of listening to my Polish/Lithuanian last name being butchered by mere simpletons quietly. Today is my DAY and goddammit I will celebrate!
In keeping with my “fuck you imperial tyrants” spirit, I offer this link to my online store. Be sure to read the product description, as it is rather piquant.
Enjoy!
Miss Heather
September 20, 2006 PoopiPoint Presentation
Here it is: my very first PoopiPoint Presentation for all to enjoy. Be sure to check out the accompanying Crap Map too!
Miss Heather
Red Hook Dog Shit Signage
Filed under: Dog Shit Signage
I came across this on The Gowanus Lounge late last night. Mere words cannot convey the glory, just click the link behold it for yourself. Red Hook rocks!
Miss Heather
Poop No More
I found this rather choice dog shit sign on Clay Street last week. For those of you who are not proficient in Spanish, “Poopi no mas” roughly translates as “Poop no more” in English.
This would be a damned good band name. Too bad I have almost no musical ability whatsoever or I’d start a band and christen it “Poop No More”.
Otherwise, what started as a modest 4-5 slide PowerPoint presentation outlining my findings from September 20, 2006 has mushroomed into 13 slide magnum opus as of writing this post. It is quite an extraordinary piece of work. I hope to have it up this evening or tomorrow at the very latest.
Miss Heather
Dung of the Day Epiphany
Last week I saw a piece of dog shit and it has been troubling me ever since. It looked familiar, but I could not for the life of me figure out why. This morning after three cups of coffee and five minutes of Googling, this mystery got solved.
In case you are wondering, the above still is from the movie “Mothra”. Before he (?) became the moth we have grown to know and love, he was a larva. That is what you are seeing in this picture: baby Mothra.
I do not know what disturbs me more, the simple fact that I have this knowledge or that it was not acquired after smoking large amounts of grass. I was in total control of my faculties when I viewed this movie (unlike damned near everyone else I know).
Yeah, I’m a freak.
Miss Heather
Babies
Those of you who reside in or around my ‘hood have probably noticed the recent proliferation of procreation lately. If you do not believe me, go to The Garden (our local grocery store) on any given Saturday or Sunday morning and negotiate the gridlock of SUV-sized baby strollers yourself. It is more than a little annoying.
I do not have anything against babies. While waiting to check out from the grocery store I actually enjoy watching little Timmy suck on a ring pop and then proceed to shove it all the way up his nose. This not only makes the time go by faster, but it gives me the kind of cheap thrill that makes my life bearable. (Both of the the previous points are probably one and the same, but I digress…)
Parents are usually the ones who piss me off. A number of my friends have recently become or will soon be parents. I’m happy for them; they are cool people and will undoubtedly raise cool kids. The world needs good kids raised by parents who love them. On the other hand, the world does not need sappy birth announcements like the one that blighted my mailbox last week:
Our hearts whispered
your name and God answered…
At one glance we loved you
with a thousand hearts…
Unless the information I received in my sex education class was incorrect, I fail to see what god has to do with such things. It is my understanding that child-bearing is a simple matter of biology, not invoking some cosmic hotline for help. If you can’t figure it out on your own, you probably shouldn’t have children in the first place. Simple as that.
Then again, maybe contacting “him†has become an automated/consolidated process like dialing 311. Not only will a courteous operator handle your inquiry, but a licensed expert from Jesus’ Insemination Services Made Manifest (J.I.S.M.M.) will be dispatched to your home where he, turkey-baster/plunger in hand, will help you achieve your reproductive dream. Be sure to demand I.D. from your case-worker, as there are a number of imposters afoot.
The repetitive mention of “hearts†strikes me as being downright creepy. Having a fair amount of pre-Colonial Latin American history under my belt, the phrase “we loved you with a thousand hearts†paints a particularly gruesome picture in my mind. Presuming that each parent has one heart, where did the other 998 come from? Your guess is as good as mine.
In closing, I’d like to make the following suggestions to soon-to-be parents:
- Your childless friends (BTW— we prefer the term child-free) are happy for you.
- We wish you the very best and look forward to being a part of your child’s life, but…
- please leave god and hyperbole out of it. Most of the world’s problems nowadays are firmly grounded in god and hyperbole; there is no need to add fuel to the fire, so to speak.
Having children is a biological function. It is about as mundane as taking a shit: both happen every day, all over the world, in numbers that would stagger the imagination. I will refrain from describing my bowel movements as an act of god (and believe you me, my affection for hot food often renders by-products culled straight out of the Old Testament) if you will be so kind as to return the favor in kind.
Otherwise, I will have not other recourse than to reply to your birth announcements with this.
Miss Heather
Neat Stuff
I have been busy making stuff of late.
Here are two recently-completed pieces that I wish to share. I hope you enjoy them as much I as I do.
The FEMA Clock
The body of this clock is made from a pencil case I bought from a local 99 cent store before Hurricane Katrina. I thought it was pretty funny at the time of purchase, but I get a real rip out of it now. The penguin playing guitar is a nice touch.
I am toying around with the idea of placing this item for sale on Ebay just to see what will happen. It’s been my observation that many users of Ebay tend to be right-leaning, so I imagine it would not be received very well.
The American Express Lamp
I have been collecting those fake credit cards that come in junk mail for at least three years now. With some help from my friends, I have amassed around 100 of them as of this post. To date I have used them to spice up the chandelier in the living room, but I elected to pull a few ‘cards’ to make this nifty lamp shade.
Otherwise, I have one cool new development to announce: Jack E. Jett has shown interest in featuring some of my dog shit infotainment on his show. I suspect this weekend will be spent prepping stuff to this end and knocking out a PowerPoint presentation of my latest dog shit findings for all to enjoy.
Miss Heather
Dung of the Day: Jabba The Shitt
I found today’s Dung of the Day while poking around my old nabe (far north Greenpoint). Although I found a bounty of prodigiously large canine bowel movements, I felt this little guy had a certain je nais se quois worth sharing.
Charts, statistics and a Crap Map will be forthcoming.
Miss Heather
NYS Flickr Pool
