Filed under: Williamsburg
Huitzilli just got in a fabulous assortment of Mexican wedding shirts for your summertime pleasure.
Fabrics include cotton poly blend (as seen above) and linen, the latter of which are $88.00 a popÂ and a bit pricey for many. But with proper care they will last you a LONG time. These shirts are immaculately constructed. Sizes go up to 54 men’s.
624 Metropolitan Avenue
Brooklyn, New York 11211
Hours: Mon-Tues by appointment only, Wednesday – Sunday noon to 7:00 p.m.
Check them out! The yellow shirts are particularly fetching.
Apparently there was a fire in the wee hours of the morning at the Green Point Deli Market at 903 Manhattan Avenue. Here are pictures of the damage.
I asked an employee (who was on the premises) what his take was. He said it was arson. A police officer was inside the storefront investigating so hopefully we’ll have a conclusive answer soon. In any case, it looks like it was one HELL of a nasty fire and I hope everyone got out safe and sound!
1001 Manhattan Avenue, 6/27/08 7:50 p.m.
1003 Manhattan Avenue, 6/27/08 10:30 p.m.
After much delay I finally secured the schedule of movies to be shown at the American Playground in July and August! I do not to give away any surprises, but I have to say it is a TERRIFIC LINE-UP and includes none other than The Good, The Bad And The Ugly! Curious to see what else they have in the offering? Click here* and see for yourself!
*6/28/08, 12:36 p.m.: The link has been fixed!
Today as I was walking down McGuinness Boulevard I noticed that the condominium building I like to call “Fort Apache, The Point” now has a web site: www.305lofts.com. Intrigued, I went home and checked it out. Although it is little more than a page directing you to the The Developers Group’s web site, it sports something I found more than a little amusing.
As this image scrolled in front of me my gut instinct told me to take a screencap and look at it very carefully. So I did.
Yup, illuminated living in Greenpoint means having an unobstructed view of our local waste treatment plant*!
*Which, if you are wondering, was a bit more fragrant than usual today.
So I lied. The previous post was not and will not be my final post of the day. Sometimes I encounter something so special I deem it necessary to pass it along to my readers stat. Today was one such day.
So you’re probably saying to yourself “What’s the big deal— so someone has a children’s playhouse in their yard?” Ordinarily this would not be a newsworthy development, but it is where this petit chateau is located that makes it so fascinating: on the premises of our local waste treatment plant. Yes folks, in the shadow of what I lovingly call the “Greenpoint Shit Tits” our friends at the D.E.P. are playing house!
Filed under: Williamsburg
This beautiful shot from Berry Street will round out New York Shitty’s selections for the day. It’s summer folks and I have every intention of enjoying it! Why not go out, take a few summer pix of your own and add them to my newly created photo pool? I’d love to see them!
I have found myself asking this question more and more of late. When I leave my apartment building I am harassed by construction workers on a regular basis. When I take photographs men try to intimidate me. I have been hissed at, kissed at and physically threatened in person. Online I have been called a bitch, a witch, a cunt and someone who needs a good “vagina pounding”. Does this sound like equality to you?
I aspire to be called an asshole, dick head, son of a bitch or motherfucker. In terms of physical violence, I want the threat of a good ass kicking, not a hate fuck. I am married woman. I want to be monogamous. Is this too much to ask? I think not.
Gloria Steinem said anyone against Hillary Clinton was anti-woman. I guess I am anti-woman too. Who knew? In any case, here’s a choice tidbit I found from the March 11, 1870 edition of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle to remind us that womens’ rights are quite a novel thing.
When someone says to me:
Hey Heather, you motherfucking dick-headed son of a bitch asshole I want to kick your fucking ass.
I know I have achieved equality with my male peers and will dissipate into a cloud of feminist pixie dust. Until then I will rant. And be a cunt whose sole aspiration in life is to be an asshole. Feminism is dead— if you want it to be. I’ll keep on fighting, thank you very much.
This post is dedicated to George Carlin.
From Manhattan Avenue.
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
So today was the first time I have seen Steve since I posted the infamous Greentomano photograph on Sunday. Naively I thought I would be the one to break the news to him that *quite* few people have seen him bound and gagged via the wonder that is the Internets. I was wrong. Apparently several evenings ago a person he had been out of touch with for seven years walked up to him at the local video store and asked him if he had seen his picture on “some blog”. He said no. Naturally he was very interested to see what the fuss was all about.
Larry da Junkman and I showed him— but not before busting his chops a little. I told Steve that a completely unexpected group of people found his picture tremendously entertaining: the B.D.S.M. community. (WARNING: link contains VERY adult content). This alarmed him a little at first.
Steve: So am I going to have women trying to tie me up now?
Miss H: It is a distinct possibility.
Larry: Only if you them to, Steve.
Believe it or not this assuaged Steve’s concerns considerably. What’s more, he began to think about hitherto unknown money-making opportunities that come with being bound and gagged for pay. The following video picks it up from there.
Those of you who are concerned about Steve’s welfare, wish to ask him out on a date (he’s a really nice guy, he also COOKS!), want a straight answer as to why he was taped and gagged to chair* or are hankering to listen to some live music tonight will be pleased as punch to know that his band will be playing jazz in the newly constructed “small room” at Club Europa!
98 Meserole Avenue
Brooklyn, New York 11222
Bring your own tape.
*All I was told today was they couldn’t find the straight jacket.