Greenpoint
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Culture on the Cheap
Greenpoint Gentile Fondler
As I indicated in yesterday’s post, I no longer try to fathom the depths of human stupidity. It is simply too big (and depressing) a task. That said, as I was checking my email last night, I came across something in my inbox that reminded me of yet another ‘golden rule’ I espouse: the world is teeming with idiots, many of whom also happen to be flaming perverts. Perverts the like of which make Dan Hoyt seem downright respectable by comparison.
This email featured a caveat circulating amongst the McCarren Park Dog Run Association. My tipster (whose husband happens to be a dog walker) wrote:
The following email crossed my monitor yesterday… I’ve fact-checked, and the events detailed seem to be true. As f-ed up as the situation is, see if you can find the most awesome Freudian-slip spelling error EVER (even since before Jesus and the dinosaurs roamed the planet together, singing “Kumbaya”).
I read what she forwarded me. Not believing what I had just read, I read it again. Once the content began to sink in, I got a queasy feeling in my stomach— and it wasn’t due to my husband airing out his balls while watching television either (which is what he was doing at the time). The Dog Shit Queen of Greenpoint was grossed out.
Follows is a condensed version of what I read. Be advised that after reading this item one may have the utmost desire to:
- Gouge his/her eyeballs out.
- Vomit. Repeatedly.
If this happens to you, dear readers, fear not: it’s normal. Without further ado, here it is. In all its abject glory…
I wanted to send you an email that I hope you can send out to others you know who use the McCarren dog run. I was at the run this morning (02/27) at about 9:00 am when I was approached by a Hasidic male who was asking me questions about my dog (breed, gender, etc)… When I left the run to bring my dog across the street to Must Luv Dogs, he approached me and asked if he could pet my dog. I told him yes, and as he was petting my dog’s head, he took his other hand and started fondling my dog’s gentiles. I saw what he was doing, pulled my dog away, and loudly told him off. He left the park very quickly.
When I went into MLD, they told me that he has been in the day care before, asking to hold the dogs, and that (he) had fondled another dog’s gentiles that was with a female owner.
I found this to be very disturbing and alerted the NYPD. While nothing will probably will come of it, anyone at the dog run who is approached by a mid-30’s to early 40’s Hasidic male, with dark brown hair and glasses should be careful.
This week I have learned about the existence of Greenpoint Nazis, people who lose their guinea pigs (in public parks), and now, Hasidic “gentile” fondlers. This dude gives the term “community outreach” a whole new meaning. I feel so dirty.
I can only imagine what next week will bring. God help me.
Miss Heather
P.S.: No one better lay a finger on my gentiles; if they do I’ll kick their fucking ass!
Comments
6 Comments on Greenpoint Gentile Fondler
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fullorbit on
Sat, 3rd Mar 2007 6:45 am
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missheather on
Sat, 3rd Mar 2007 7:46 am
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Rebecca11222 on
Sat, 3rd Mar 2007 2:07 pm
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angie abaddon on
Sun, 4th Mar 2007 12:46 pm
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missheather on
Sun, 4th Mar 2007 4:19 pm
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mentalmodel on
Fri, 9th Mar 2007 4:57 pm
i live in greenpoint and think this is terrible. on another note, when i read your last line, i thought you were finishing on a punchline by saying not to lay a finger on my GENTILES, which means “non-jew”. i thought, what an amazing joke to tell a party. then i realized you spelled it that way throughout the post. you obviously meant genITAls, but just wanted to commend you on an excellent pun, deliberate or not.
For the record: I did NOT write the above email about a Hasidic man fondling dogs’ gentiles. I DID, however, willfully and deliberately make a pun at the end of this post.
Don’t touch the Goy-nads
that was fucking great. your week sounds incredibly amusing. the guinea pig thing was also pretty fucking hilarious. haha, hope this week brings you less stupidity, but just as much amusement, if not more.
Yo Angie,
Inasmuch as I bitch about stupidity I do not think I could function without it. It’s sort of like when Wile E. Coyote finally caught the Roadrunner; after achieving his goal, he had an existentialist fit of angst and elected to let the Roadrunner go.
On the other hand, I would be very happy if this apartment would STOP malfunctioning. Right now there is only one light fixture (a lamp I BUILT) that is operational in my living room. Last week the ceiling-mounted light fixture died. This week a lamp croaked (in solidarity with the aforementioned light fixture). It’s like the Middle Fucking Ages in here. What’s next, hanging my fat ass out the window to relieve myself?!?
Keep up the fine writing. I am reading it.
Finally my graffiti art is getting some notice. Smell phone, get it?!
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