Greenpoint Photos du Jour: 10 Bedford Avenue, Revisited
Lest yesterday’s sparse bloggage wasn’t sufficient indication, yours truly has not been feeling well. In fact, I have been feeling like crap. Today I awakened feeling a little bit better and decided a jaunt around the neighborhood might be just the thing to clear my stuffy head. On a lark, I decided to swing by 10 Bedford Avenue so as to bone up on my Polish profanity.
Nary a new missive was to be found, but I spied a DVD.
Naturally I had to know what in the way of entertainment this item contained. I was not disappointed. DO NOT CLICK ON THE PREVIOUS LINK if:
- you are at work. This item will net you a visit from the H.R. Department
- you find pornography offensive
- you find the thought of “grandmothers” performing very unladylike acts offensive
Conversely, those of you reading this who find the latter two items to be your to liking (and you know who you are) might want to add this item to your Netflix list.
Miss Heather
New York Shitty Day Ender: Big Love
This post goes out to my new friend (and author of this flier), Jen, who left me the nicest comment today! She writes:
Miss Heather,
You’ve been driving a few lovely men my way by internetizing my ad. Perhaps one of them will be Dream Boyfriend! Keep ‘em coming.
And yes, showering is absolutely key.
Jen
Glad to hear it— and by all means let me know know things go. We married folks live vicariously through you!
Miss Heather
Greenpoint Photos du Jour: 10 Bedford Avenue
Today yours truly had a moment. Actually I had quite a few— but I limit the subject of this post to one: what living in “Little Poland” has imparted to me. For starters, there’s a sense of style. I for one find the Polish ladies hereabouts to be an inspiration. Their love of animal print and all shades of hair, the more unnatural the better, has become an inspiration to yours truly. Fuck 5th Avenue. I find the catwalk that is Manhattan Avenue much more interesting— and fun! I do my best to emulate their style. Regrettably, I am woefully remiss in picking up their mater lingua. Or am I? After this afternoon I have begun to wonder.
Case in point: I am walking home on Franklin Street. A man and woman exit a parked car. Both have religious pamphlets in tow. The woman approaches me and asks:
Mowimy po polsku?
I looked her squarely in the eye and replied (in English):
No, I do not speak Polish.
And she quickly went on her way. Apparently Polish souls were the only ones this woman was seeking at the moment. Go figure.
In any case, I was reminded— once again— that I have picked up much more Polish than I realized later in the afternoon. Which brings me to the following two items. They hail from 10 Bedford Avenue (a former bar which I understand is slated to become a Cuban restaurant).
I couldn’t help but giggle like crazy when I read the above missives. Those of you who are not in the know as to what these two (rather prevalent) words mean can learn by scrolling over the two above jpgs and reading their titles. All in all it felt pretty good to be reminded that I have learned some modicum of Polish over the last eleven years, tak?
UPDATE, 9:13 p.m.: I have been corrected as to what “kurwa” means (see comments). Regardless, I had to correct this really nice chap regarding his spelling.
It’s spelled K-U-R-W-A.
Miss Heather
Urban Fur, Part II: Hellbent For Leather
A Good Samaritan loans this chilly (and very chill) pup on Bedford Avenue his jacket!
Miss Heather
Lost On Bedford Avenue: Dog
In a manner of speaking. Yours truly has seen more fliers advertising rewards for lost/purloined dogs than she cares to recount. However, this is the first flier offering a reward— no questions asked— for a lost/purloined drawing of a dog. If any of you, dear readers, know of this item’s whereabouts please contact its rightful owner at the above-listed telephone number. Thanks!
Miss Heather
Williamsburg Photo du Jour: Looking For Love On Bedford Avenue
I honestly don’t what to say about this other than:
- Good luck, Jen.
- Including “showering” in the above list of criteria is probably a smart move. I write as someone who, back in the day, once caught a boyfriend dousing the armpits of his t-shirt du jour with air freshener.
Miss Heather
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