New York Shitty Photo Du Jour: Fifth On Fifth

fifthonfifth

 

Granted, the photo could have— should have— been better. But this gentleman’s apparel and stance is flawless. So there!

The Word On The Street, Part II: 36th Street

36street

Taken May 5, 2013.

New York Shitty Photos Du Jour: Cinco De Mayo Edition

Greenpoint, 11222

margaritahelmets

Sunset Park, 11232

dancers

holdinghands

notimpressed

PINK

feathers

Greenpoint, 11222 (10:40 p.m.)

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For those of you who are wondering what this day of celebration is about (HINT: It ain’t ”Mexican Independence Day”) the lovely proprietress of Huitzilli suggests this tome. And I offer this. Please put down the margarita and give ‘em a read. Enjoy!

The Word On The Street, Part II: LOL

April 19, 2013 ·
Filed under: 11232, Sunset Park, Sunset Park Brooklyn, The Word On The Street 

LOL

Taken April 14, 2013.

Urban Artifact, Part II: Sunset Park

served

Taken April 14, 2013.

The Word On The Street, Part III: BK Kid

April 15, 2013 ·
Filed under: 11232, Sunset Park, Sunset Park Brooklyn, The Word On The Street 

BKkid

Taken April 14, 2013.

New York Shitty Photo Du Jour: Wreaths

April 15, 2013 ·
Filed under: 11232, Sunset Park, Sunset Park Brooklyn 

wreaths

Taken April 14, 2013.

Spotted In Sunset Park: Doctor Jesus

drjesusdet

doctorjesus

Taken April 14, 2013.

The Word On The Street, Part IV: Make Noise

makenoise

 

As captured today on 8th Avenue on Sunset Park. On my subway ride home from today’s sojourn I overheard an interesting conversation. It was between a mother and her 20-something daughter. The former said:

Aren’t you happy to get in trouble? What kind of world would this be if we did not have people to confront and challenge us?

The woman has a point. All you noise makers out there, this post is for you!

 

Urban Fur: The Iron Lady Is NOT—REPEAT NOT— In Hell…

thatcher2thumbnailshe’s alive and well (somewhere in Sunset Park)!

Unless you have been living under a rock, several very notable folks passed away last week: Jonathan Winters, Annette Funicello and of course Margaret “The Iron Lady” Thatcher.

It is not my purpose to embark upon the subject of politics. Methinks I have made my opinion of Ms. Thatcher quite clear in the title of the post. Rather, I endeavor to cover a much more important shit: bodega cats. More specifically the glowering one mug see at left.

You see, gentle readers, today I was on a mission of the utmost importance. I am pleased to announce it was successful too. But I am getting one ahead of myself.

A couple of days ago I arranged to go on a walk with a very nice fellow named Rob. He resides in Bay Ridge, I reside in Greenpoint. We agreed to meet somewhere in the middle. Given that this pretty much all of Brooklyn, there were many nifty neighborhood from which to choose. I picked Sunset Park. And at Sunset Park we met.

In the elapsing days before our meet-up I recalled something. There was a rather fetching, if dour, feline who presided over a bodega in this community. Her name was Margaret Thatcher. Yes, as in THAT/THE Margaret Thatcher. Thus I felt, in light of recent events, it was imperative to inquire as to her welfare. Once I arrived in Sunset Park I made Rob aware of our mission. What I recalled as to her place of enjoyment was as follows:

  • It is a Mexican grocery store located on 5th Avenue.
  • It is probably located across the street from Sunset Park.
  • It is presided over by a very affable Arabic gentleman.

On the surface this would seem to limit the pool considerably. Then again, this is New York City we’re talking about. Anything and everything can happen here— usually more than once.

42285thave

After a few “misses” we encountered this establishment. I told Rob:

I think this is it.

We went in.

After grabbing some oregano to purchase (I didn’t want to “blow my cover”) I cased the place. There was nary a set whisker to be found. I finally turned to Rob and said:

Let’s see how crazy this guy will think I am.*

I approached the counter.

Excuse me, but don’t you have a cat?

Sam: Yes! She’s in the back!

Me: Would her name happen to be Margaret Thatcher?

No, no she’s gone. Someone took her. I have another cat now!

Someone kidcatnapped the Iron Lady?

I inquired.

After some discussion it was ascertained that this pussy was not purloined. Rather, she has retired. The Iron Lady presently calls a “very nice lady’s” home her own. As you can imagine this came as a tremendous relief to yours truly. It was then that Sam encouraged me to go in the back and met his new furry friend: Engine.

Yes, this is a rather odd name. However, we are talking about a fellow who named a cat Margaret Thatcher and when asked made it quite clear he hated her namesake. “Sam” operates on a level of logic not readily understandable to the average person. This (and the fact he let me poke around his store in search of pussy) is why he is awesome.

hellothere

Without further ado, meet Engine.

engine

She’s a rather, um, substantial lass.

She is much friendlier than her predecessor.

rubbins

And she loves her some head rubbins’!

Yes folks: some people may be carrying around the cure for cancer or the means effecting world peace in their noggins. Given I still on occasion think it is 2012 I am probably not one of them. But I know my hardworking furry friends— and I am pleased to announce that (at least in Sam’s Grocery in Sunset Park) the cats are alright!

*I am crazy. The difference is I know it and have reached a level of acceptance with it. Hence why I have no trepidation going to Sunset Park, entering a bodega and asking the proprietor if he has a cat named Margaret Thatcher. So there!

And oh yeah: if anyone knows of a cat named Jonathan Winters hereabouts do speak up. I would very much like to make his acquaintance.