Greenpoint Feral Furniture Du Jour: Special Thanksgiving Edition

Thanksgiving greetings from New York Shitty!

Greenpoint Photos Du Jour: Java Street

(Or: Election Day Special)

Better late than never, I say. This is one of yours truly’s favorite things. I have given it the moniker “Stoophenge” and it can be found on Java Street. True to form, it is (still) topped with Halloween goodness. Trust me it gets better, not worse, as the pumpkins begin to rot.

Anyhoo, it is a good as a reminder as any to get out and vote today you all!

Greenpoint Photos Du Jour, Part II: The Mean Girls Of Salem

It would appear I was a mite bit hasty deeming Monitor Street as the “go to” in Greenpoint in terms of Halloween decor. Of course I have never seen Greenpoint as one monolithic community. It’s actually at least two, arguably three, sub-communities. This contender hails from my corner of the 11222 and it is MAGNIFICENT! Without further ado, I present “The Mean Girls Of Salem”!

“Get in Loser, we’re going Hexing”

Taken October 29, 2019.

The Word On The Street, Part II: But…

Taken October 28, 2019.

The Word On The Street: Welcome…

Taken October 28, 2019.

Greenpoint Photos Du Jour: Halloween Selections

They don’t decorate in this neighborhood like they used to, but there’s good stuff around if you know where to look. This year my pick is Monitor Street between Driggs and Meeker (which is where all this goodness can be seen). The Demon Baby House for the win.

For obvious reasons. It needs to be seen in person to truly be experienced. Cheers!

The Word On The Street: Monday Motivation

Taken October 28, 2019.

New York Shitty Photos Du Jour: Fuck You Friday

I learned yesterday while delivering some home cooking to a friend of mine that even potted plants are fair game as far as “Fuck You Friday” is concerned. Impressive.

Now On Manhattan Avenue: Offers You Can’t Refuse

October 23, 2019 ·
Filed under: 11222, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic 

If you need it— or have never even thought about it— Manhattan Avenue has it. Be it used pillows with “credible” hair or life coaching which can easily be had via any dysfunctional familial/intimate relationship, WE HAVE IT ALL.

P.S.: That smell isn’t hell, it’s Greenpoint.

The Word On The Street: Presenting “Fuck You” Friday

It’s been a pretty busy week for yours truly. Today, however, I was able to take a day off to do a few things I wanted to do (versus stuff I have to do). I have had a lot of “have to dos” lately.

Upon disembarking the L at First Avenue in the East Village I, courtesy of LinkNYC, was presented with this self-care “tip”: call a friend.

No, no sir (or madam) this is simply not how it works here”, I thought to myself. “Telling someone to fuck off IS self-care.”

Believe you me, I want to tell quite a few folks to do just that nowadays. However, “punching up” could get me in (more) trouble. “Punching down” is not my style. “Punching laterally”, however, is fair game in my opinion.

If you need it— “it” being anything imaginable and beyond— New York City not only has it but will deliver it.

Right.
To.
Your.
Proverbial.
Fucking.
Doorstep.

We pay top dollar for this amenity. This is something outsiders do not understand. The freedom, the mental health benefits, which come with letting it all out in public. Fellow New Yorkers let you do it. We take it in turns. It’s an understood thing.

Sure enough, I was presented with such an opportunity today. Here’s how I put it on Twitter:

Then it occurred to me:

Why not roll out a compendium of “Fuck Yous” in their manifold forms as I see them?

There’s no more replenishable, locally-sourced resource as “Fuck You” in New York City.

So here we go!

First Avenue, East Village
First Avenue, East Village
Delancey Street, Lower East Side
Houston Street, Lower East Side
Manhattan Avenue, Greenpoint
Freeman Street, Greenpoint

And last, but hardly least, this contender from none other than Clay Street, Greenpoint, U.S.A. While “Fuck You” is not explicitly stated, the sentiment is there.

That’s the whole trouble. You can’t ever find a place that’s nice and peaceful, because there isn’t any. You may think there is, but once you get there, when you’re not looking, somebody’ll sneak up and write “Fuck you” right under your nose. Try it sometime. I think, even, if I ever die, and they stick me in a cemetery, and I have a tombstone and all, it’ll say “Holden Caulfield” on it, and then what year I was born and what year I died, and then right under that it’ll say “Fuck you.” I’m positive, in fact.*

— J.D. Salinger, “Catcher in the Rye”

*I am totally amenable to “Fuck You” being inscribed on my tombstone. The more the merrier. A person is defined by his— or her— enemies.

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