Greenpoint
Lorven Pharmacy
Culture on the Cheap
New York Shitty Day Starter: George
George Diaz, longtime Greenpoint resident, neighborhood badass and proprietor of Latino Laughter hams it up for the camera— and cracks himself up in the process!
Miss Heather
New York Shitty Day Ender: The Good Neighbor Policy
This week I was pleasantly surprised to find an email from the owner of 131 Huron Street (AKA: neighbor to the Viridian’s backend) in my inbox. He writes:
Thought you could feature the other side[huron st] of 110 green street project [viridian] on your blog. check it out it looks like people park [bums empty bottles and guitars]
hope your well
Larry
I have, in fact, done just this. However, today I did a walk by. I didn’t find any homeless people but the garbage was plentiful, the workers were kind enough to hoot and holler at me (thanks guys) and I found this…
and this.
You have some nerve to park here all dia long. You deserve a double summons. You are lucky the police isn’t doing there job. PRIVATE DRIVEWAY. Next time we’ll make sure you get one. (NO RESPECT FOR PRIVATE PROPERTY)
The rebuttal can be found on the back:
Where is William F. Buckley when you need him? More importantly: why can’t ball point pens come with a grammar and spellcheck function?!?
Granted, painting lines of demarcation on the street is illegal. Then again so is blocking someone’s driveway. A garage is clearly visible in the background, therefore it can be deduced this is an active driveway. This is not rocket science. It is yet another example of how little regard— if not outright contempt— the folks at the Viridian have for their neighbors. It’s been that way pretty much from day one so I guess it would be unreasonable to expect better conduct on their part now.
Miss Heather
Greenpoint Critter Watch: He’s BAAAAACK!
Last night there was a flurry of excitement at Chez Shitty. I first noticed something was amiss when I walked into the bedroom to discover this.
It has been my experience that when I stumble upon three or more of our cats convened in such a manner it can only spell trouble. The fact our rather corpulent calico, Uni, has troubled to join in is even more disconcerting. You see, Miss Uni is without argument one of the laziest cats to ever to grace this planet. Even in the annals of catdom she would be considered an underachiever. Many (most) a day has come to pass when she sleeps on our bed for eight hours on a clip, waking up only to roll over. The craters she has left in our foam mattress pad is a testament to this and her ever-expanding girth. But I digress.
Suspecting that we had a “visitor” I grabbed the maglite and my camera.
Sure enough, our furry friend has returned in search of grub.
The fact he (or she) came at 9:00 p.m. is disquieting. He must be very hungry.
He didn’t pay our cats any mind and kept his distance— and they didn’t bother him. THANK GOD.
To be continued…
Miss Heather
Something Neat: Monitor Arms
Ever since I wrote the post about John Alexander’s fence I have been paying a lot more attention to the cast ironwork that graces many a building in north Brooklyn. Most of it is more or less identical. There is, however, a real gem to be found at 680 Manhattan Avenue.
Lest you cannot read the text above the door (which is obstructed by a fire escape) it reads “Monitor Arms”.
When the opportunity presents itself, dear readers do check this out in person. Not only is the “Monitor Arms” a really neat piece of living history but it is also helluva lot more attractive than its namesake!
Miss Heather
Greenpoint Photo Du Jour: Manhattan Avenue Crusties
See the gentleman with the banjo and the lady with the dreadlocks? They are two of (count ’em) FIVE crusties I saw an Manhattan Avenue this afternoon. They had the cardboard sign, the obligatory dog, the whole nine yards. Congratulations Greenpoint, you have arrived!
Miss Heather
Greenpoint Falafel Watch: Kestane Kebab Versus Mediterranean Shawarma
112 Nassau Avenue, 9/8/09
849 Manhattan Avenue, 9/9/09
The awnings are up and it looks like it will be a tight race to see which of these two establishments will open first. Given what I have seen of their respective interiors, my money is on Kestane Kebab. Either way I can hardly wait!
Miss Heather
FOR SALE IN GREENPOINT: Boa Constrictors
Filed under: 11222, Area 51, East Williamsburg, East Williamsburg Brooklyn, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic
I fully aware that by being both a crazy cat lady and a vegetarian I am a hypocrite; every evening while I’m prepping my “not dogs” or “facon” I am feeding my little pride dead animals. Nonetheless I cannot fathom having a pet whose “food” consists of cute little furry things with whiskers. Truth be told it gives me the creeps.
I suppose the difference is the meat I serving my feline friends has already been rendered lifeless. To each their own I guess. All I’m saying is if I ever find something like this while patronizing Chez Shitty’s shitter (or any other shitter for that matter) I’ll go Rambo on its ass.
Like I said before: I’m a hypocrite.
Miss Heather
P.S.: While I am on the subject of eating and Meeker Avenue, Wardak Supermarket is slowly, but surely, marching towards completion.
When I walked by today I noticed that they have installed the checkout stations and were in the process of outfitting the produce section.
East Williamsburg Street Furniture Selections
Filed under: 11206, 11222, Bushwick, East Williamsburg, East Williamsburg Brooklyn, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic, Street Art, Street Furniture, Williamsburg, Williamsburg Brooklyn
Eviscerated on Catherine Street.
Existentialist angst on Grattan.
And antisemitism on Moore. If this is supposed to be funny or “ironic” I am not getting the joke.
Hatred is not a laughing matter.
Miss Heather
P.S.: While I am (titularly) on the subject of north Brooklyn Nazis, check this out. It is pretty intense. Special thanks go out to Amanda for bringing this to my attention.
UPDATE, 6:33 p.m.: Apparently a Facebook group has been formed to battle Greenpoint Nazi Skinheads. See the comments section for more details.
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