Greenpoint
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Culture on the Cheap
Greenpoint Photos Du Jour: Kindness Counts
Filed under: 11222, Dog Shit Signage, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic
It’s been a while since I have hit you up with some blue chip dog shit signage. Well, as it happened today I encountered quite a bounty whilest strolling down Greenpoint’s less-than-gold coast. Here they are.
Calyer Street
I find this one fascinating on a purely semiotic level. You have a dog shit sign made out of a photograph featuring yet another dog shit sign. It’s like an M.C. Escher painting— albeit one about crap.
Courtesy coupled with Orwellian overtones… I like it!
West Street
Over the years I have become quite the aficionado of this person’s work. He or she has been at for quite some time and although the copy varies a little, e.g.; the reader is usually addressed as “asshole”. The author always goes to the trouble to say thanks. Here’s a pair but goodies from the New York Shitty archives.
This one dates from March of this year. As you can see our dog shit vigilante exercises a great deal of resourcefulness when it comes to getting his (or her) message across. And in closing there is the following one, my personal favorite, which dates from April of 2006.
Who can argue with that?
Miss Heather
Williamspoint Photos Du Jour: Urban Fur
Filed under: 11211, 11222, Crazy Cat Lady, Dog Shit Signage, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic, Williamsburg, Williamsburg Brooklyn
Java Street
Kent Street
Oak Street
Manhattan Avenue
Grand Street
West Street
Miss Heather
Signs Of The Times
When I stumbled upon these blue chip specimens of New York City signage in my photo pool (which come courtesy of Lost In Brooklyn) it reminded me that I have been woefully amiss in passing along a couple of my own finds. They hail from a recent sojourn through Williamsburg.
This no frills, proletariat model comes from Wythe Avenue. Although it looks like they had a little trouble with the “g” it seemed to be effective, nonetheless. I did not spy so much as a single doggy dumpling.
Bags of garbage, however, were another matter. Nice, but we can do better.
Like this example from North 9 Street.
This is a private garbage can. Do not trespass on my property to leave your dog shit here. Take it home with your and smell it by your house. This is especially directed to the person with her little blue bags.
Now this is more like it! Granted there is no implicit threat being made here, but I for one find the “we know who you are” aspect endearing.
In fact I was so impressed I shared the good news of my discovery with couple of folks writing poetry on Bedford Avenue. They were kind of enough to write a little something on the back of a flier for the Williamsburg Flea Market just for me. It was (appropriately enough) entitled “Shit”.
Amen.
Miss Heather
From The New York Shitty Inbox: Curb Your…
This item hails from an unidentified location in Manhattan and was captured by Greenpoint’s very own Bitchcakes, who writes:
I saw this sign and thought of you…
Great find!
Speaking of things curbed, the upcoming week’s worth of offerings on New York Shitty will in all probability be lite. Today none other than Ma and Pa Heather will be honoring our fair city with a visit! Needless to say I will be very busy showing them all the local scenic points of interest (like the Shit Tits and the Newtown Creek Nature Walk!) but will take the time to post when the opportunity presents itself. Besides, sometimes even bloggers need a vacation! 😉
Miss Heather
The 460 Clinton Avenue Panopticon
This week our good friend Richard came to town. I wanted to go to East Williamsburg; the Mister wanted to go to the Navy Yard. We did both— which presented a problem. Outside the confines of 11211, 11222, 11206, and 11237 I get fuzzy. What’s more the Mister and I engender the same belief about maps: they’re for assholes. Which brings me to this.
As Bugs Bunny would say:
I took a wrong turn at Albuqueque.
While the Mister was deciphering our misdirection I spied the following bit of dog shit signage.
The Block SEES YOU
MORNING & NIGHT
This is not a poopy park. Please taKe your dogs poop home and & flush! Don’t think the Block Watchers Don’t SEE you. You have lined the front of this house with poop. You continue to fill my garbage can with your dog poop. You have NOW forced ME to install A CAMERA. Please, Please take poop home & flush. Thank you. 460 Clinton Avenue.
The verbose nature of this sign, generous use of duct tape and random capital letters leads me to believe this person is serious. Or seriously pissed off.
Miss Heather
New York Shitty Day Ender: Street Seat
You can always leave it to 106 Green Street (which is located immediately next door to the Viridian) to keep things real in the Garden Spot. In the case of the above photograph we have a stand pipe which reads:
Asshole Pick up your Dog Shit
an assortment of detritus and a toilet seat that is a lot worse for wear.
Have a nice day!
Miss Heather
Dog Doo Sign Du Jour: Have Sharpie, Will Travel
Although this is not a sign per se, I have to confess that I like this person’s moxie. This missive a la Sharpie Marker hails from Franklin Street just north of Bushwick Inlet. A locality that anyone Greenpointer worth his (or her) salt will attest is a rather popular place for errant pet owners to leave their dog bombs. Well done, dog shit vigilante!
Miss Heather
From The New York Shitty Photo Pool: Fed Up On Guernsey Street
Algul siento (the person who captured this choice morsel of Greenpoint glory) writes:
The funny thing is there was a pile of poo right below this sign.
I, being an optimist, would like to suggest that the previously mentioned dog poo was merely there temporarily. As you can see this sign gives pretty clear-cut instructions as to how to pick up the poop. Perhaps the person behind the behind that doled out these doggie dumplings merely went home to get his (or her) scoop?
Miss Heather
The Pencil Factory Lofts Get A Very Greenpoint Welcome
I am certain a number of you (like the gentleman above) have noticed the new sales office for the Pencil Factory Lofts on Franklin Street. I know I have; I have been watching it manifest with rapt interest for the last three weeks.
I am pleased to announce as of last weekend (and perhaps a tad earlier) it is open for business on Franklin Street! A number of things interest me about this development. Purchasing one of said “lofts” is not one of them. I neither have the means of affording one nor do I have the desire to co-habitate with their target clientele base (which, from what I can deduce is affluent 20-somethings and 50-something men with 30-something trophy wives). It’s nothing personal; I am certain a number of the previous people are perfectly nice. Rather, it is a matter of class: I have none. Which brings me to this.
I understand (especially given the current state of the economy) that the wizards behind the Pencil Factory Lofts want to move as many units as possible. It is also very obvious that 122 West Street (as seen at the beginning of this post) is nowhere near completion. This requires that a sales office be located elsewhere. I suppose 131-135 Franklin Street is a nice enough building, but the overflowing garbage cans and detritus which perennially grace the front of this edifice do not strike me as putting a good “face” on their organization. Quite to the contrary: aside from being an eyesore the above tableau highlights the stark difference between the lives of the people actually live in Greenpoint and that of the kind of people businesses like The Pencil Factory Lofts want to live here.
The inequity of this (which is all too pervasive nowadays) has been nagging at me for sometime. And I’ll be perfectly frank: it makes me angry. Yesterday as I walked down West Street I learned I am not alone.
It would appear that 122 West Street has received a little “added value”. Somehow I do not think this was what the architect had in mind when he filed plans with the Department of Buildings.
Talk about your genuine, gritty “urban” experience. It doesn’t get much more authentic than this.
Or this.
Or this.
Now that I think about it maybe having a sales office at 135 Franklin Street (which is a healthy distance from the above hilarity) isn’t such a bad idea after all.
Miss Heather
NYS Flickr Pool
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