New York Shitty Photos du Jour: McGuinness Boulevard

After getting word form my buddy Jay that a beleaguered Beamer was being used as a trash receptacle on the Champs-Élysées of our fair burgh I simply had to see (and smell) this spectacle for myself. I am pleased to report I was not disappointed!

As you can see it has received a few “additions”.

The presence of food matter, vomitus and/or effluvia was noted.

A solitary carrot has found its way into the mix.

Here’s a close up of the cat shit.

And last— but hardly least— a parking ticket. What will tomorrow hold, you ask? That remains to be seen. But I suspect our fellow Greenpointers will not disappoint!

Miss Heather

Greenpoint Photos Du Jour: St. Cecilia’s Convent

January 31, 2011 ·
Filed under: 11222, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic, Vomit 

Looks like someone had one hell of a party.

Beer was consumed.

Brooklyn Beer.

Are those carrots?

Miss Heather

Spotted In McCarren Park: Call-A-Head

As I mentioned in this post we, the people of north Brooklyn, have been promised by the peeps of OSA (Open Space Alliance North Brooklyn) a handful of port-o-johns to help augment the rather inadequate— and in some cases downright disgusting— facilities which currently grace our public parks. While not what I consider to be an ideal solution (they should be repairing and upgrading existing facilities; and breaking ground for new ones) today I had a glimmer (or would that be a whiff) of hope. At the corner of North 12 and Berry Street to be precise.

Not one, not two, but three port-o-potties! But wait— there’s a catch.

All save one are locked! Perhaps to be dispatched to elsewhere? I can only hope so. In any case I decided to check out the one that was open to the public.

If it is any consolation, dear readers, this smelled worse than it looks.

Methinks another inspection is in order. But why cry over spilled vomit?

Shortly thereafter I discovered that Bushwick Inlet Park has received its promised privy! Two down, two to go…

Miss Heather

Image Credits: The photograph gracing the beginning of this post hails from Sergeant Dougherty Playground and was taken by yours truly.

New York Shitty Day Ender: Hanging On The Telephone

Lest the sporadic postage of late has not been an indication, yours truly has been sick. REALLY SICK. First it was a cold. Then it was lingering congestion in my nose. This affliction lasted until I ate some enchiladas from San Loco in Williamsburg. Those bad boys made yours truly vomit with such gale force it made Hurricane Katrina look (or at least feel) quaint.

This came to pass not just once, but TWICE. After the second time the Mister asked me what I thought about the new bathmat/rug arrangement he had created in the bathroom. He prides himself on being handy that way. Believe it or not, I did notice his handiwork (and for the record it is quite nice: white flowers on a pretty carnation pink background), it’s kind of hard not to when you are hunched over a toilet holding onto a towel rack for dear life. A white knuckle ride through a sunshine smile.

I assured the Mister that I thought his creation was quite nice (and thanked him) I shuffled off to bed. I slept for four hours. When I later awakened I noticed something quite remarkable: my congestion was GONE! Apparently rancid, half-digested enchiladas expelled from my proboscis were able to do what Tylenol PM and a lot of bed rest couldn’t: allow me to breathe in an unobstructed manner. If the National Institute of Health didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to I would strongly recommend they look into this.

But I digress.

If there is a lesson to be learned here it is this: there’s an upshot to almost anything— or at least it can always be worse. Which brings me to the following from the Williamsburg Greenpoint News + Arts, a paper I would like to mention that yours truly usually enjoys reading. In addition, Genia Gould is a very nice lady. In other words, I do not relish what I am about to write— but I am going to write it anyway.

I do not know if any of you, dear readers, have read this tome— but you should. Not because this piece is particularly informative (for the most part it isn’t— although the Friends of Barge Park, AKA: Greenpoint Playground and Dupont Street Playground, were interested to learn their park is being “under-utilized”— but I’ll go into that later). Rather, it is a textbook example of the kind of “puff piece” which invariably seems to follow the Parks Department— especially in North Brooklyn— getting negative press. And negative press they did indeed receive.

What happened at the Red Gate (AKA: Nick’s) Garden* is nothing short of a fiasco. I would even go so far as to say that under ordinary circumstances someone would get fired for this level malfeasance/incompetence/arrogance. But this is no ordinary situation: we are talking about the Parks Department. ANYHOO…

As you probably imagine this article was the source of some discussion on the (unofficial)  CB1 Yahoo Group. Yours truly even said her piece:

Speaking as someone who lives pretty close to the Greenpoint/Dupont Street Playground I can personally attest that I have never seen Ms. Thayer there. I have, however, seen a fair number of families with children patronizing it. Perhaps by “under-utilized” she means not garnering her sufficient column space in the local papers or catering to the newer, more affluent influx which is obviously her bread and butter?

Let’s face facts: this park has been waiting for bathrooms, a basic human necessity, for years. I do not see this changing in the foreseeable future either. Toilets do not net hagiographic articles in the WGNA or make for nice photo opportunities (they should). Concerts, artists’ performances and the like do.

What’s more, what does event planning have to do with improving our community’s parks?

Anyone one with an iota of common sense would know that before you throw concerts, open skate parks and all that fun stuff you get down to basics. e.g.; repairing/upgrading the existing infrastructure and performing basic maintenance. This is something she seemingly does not grasp or simply does not care about. When you (for example) have events at McCarren Park or open a skate park (and in so doing increase its usership) you will have more people using its lavatories (which are deplorable), garbage cans, etc. What we have in place currently is inadequate. Why else would I find urine-filled bottles every time I walk by this “public” space? This is not only disgusting, it is easily preventable. Yet nothing is being done? Why?

I also feel compelled to point out that a great many of the concerts Ms. Thayer is so proud of organizing draw patrons who reside outside of north Brooklyn. While this is not in and of itself a bad thing, the fact of the matter is a number of these people do not have the sense of attachment/commitment to the community (or basic common courtesy) a resident does. They drink, they break, they leave. We, the residents, are the ones who are left to cope with the noise, trash, vomitus, etc. This not only makes one feel like he or she is a mere bystander/stranger in his or her own community (one which has been seemingly rendered into a tourist attraction), but it begs the question as to whom our parks belong? If the incident at Red Gate is any indication, the answer would be “not us”.

Laura writes: Is that payback for disagreeing with your eviction of the Red Gate Garden?

Yes, it is. Did you know that Ms Thayer was kind enough to insinuate herself into the process of getting Nick’s/the Red Gate Garden’s paperwork up-to-date? This was initially promised to be an easy process process per the initial point person at Green Thumb. Not anymore. Now we have to bargain with the very person who tried to shut down this LEGITIMATE community garden in order to keep it. This is ridiculous.

Lastly, suggesting in any way that Ms. Thayer is an expert on Newtown Creek is an insult to the many dedicated people who have made cleaning up this body water their mission for DECADES.

I have read this WGNA tome. I have reread twice over. I felt compelled to do so because quite frankly I could not believe what I was reading. This is not an article. No attempt has been made whatsoever at a fair and balanced recitation of the facts. It is propaganda and the sad fact is someone will read this and believe it. This is most assuredly why it was published.

This article, just like the concerts, ribbon cuttings and so forth are window dressing. The conditions at our parks in the meantime have not improved. If anything their increased “utilization” have placed a greater burden on their already tenuous infrastructure. No amount column space is going to change this.

We need to get back to basics. While concerts and the like are nice, they should not receive attention at the expense of the very basic and in some cases urgent maintenance concerns our parks have. If this is something Ms. Thayer is unable and/or unwilling to acknowledge then we need to get a new Parks person. One who will spend less time mugging for the camera and more time fixing our community’s parks. It really is that simple.

Not surprisingly, I have yet to receive a rebuttal. I doubt I will: what I have stated is true. In other words, there is nothing to rebut. However, I would like to make it known that two people thanked me for writing this tome. Another Parks Department/OSA dissident who aired his/her views on this public forum was not so lucky. He/she received a phone call at 7:00 a.m. this morning from our parks poobah herself. Anonymous writes:

Seven am phone call from stephanie t(hayer— Ed Note). Feel free to post that she apparently has free time to harass citizens for expressing their opinion in an open forum! (W/o my name)…

Ms. Thayer is quoted in the above-mentioned WGNA piece as saying:

…As a resident of the community I push that much harder to green North Brooklyn for my friends and neighbors.

I for one would like to take a moment to applaud Ms. Thayer’s dedication to her “friends and neighbors”. It takes an incredibly committed individual to call someone at 7:00 a.m. on a Monday morning— or in the wee hours of the night (READ: 12:30 – 1:00 a.m.). Yes, Ms. Thayer has done just this on at least one occasion. Probably more.

If any of you, dear readers, have been reached out and touched by our Parks person/OSA Executive Director off-hours and/or have any other interesting interactions with this individual I would very much like to hear from you. Please post your anecdotes/tips via comments or send them via email to:

missheather (at) thatgreenpointblog (dot) com

All emails/tips will remain anonymous unless you indicate otherwise. Don’t let Ms. Thayer (or her backers) intimidate you: SPEAK UP!

In closing, I regret to inform everyone that my anonymous tipster did not answer the phone this fateful morning: Ms. Thayer’s missive went to voice mail and was summarily deleted. I can only imagine what was so important so as to motivate Ms. Thayer to call this person, who she presumed to be her friend and neighbor, at such an ungodly hour. Had the shoe been placed on the other proverbial foot, I doubt Ms. Thayer would have been as charitable. In some circles phone calls in the wee hours of the morning (save in the case of emergencies, e.g.: someone dying or going to the hospital) are considered to be harassment.

Miss Heather

*For those of you who are wondering, the much-talked about trees the Boy Scouts of America planted are not faring very well. They appear to be dying due to lack of proper watering and being inundated with dog urine. In addition, the Parks Department’s removal of the fence at Red Gate managed to kill a number of plants in said garden. You can see a handful of pictures by clicking here.

Photo Credits: Trashy Phone image comes courtesy of kiminnyc

LAST GASP: V Is For Value-Added

February 17, 2010 ·
Filed under: Area 51, Vomit 

Yours truly has a fair number of bad Valentine’s Days under her belt. The source of said badness never had anything to do with matters romantic. Quite to the contrary: frailties of the flesh were to blame. For this reason I will forever associate a day dedicated to lovers (of all stripes) with vomiting and getting stitches. But I digress.

When I read this*, a tome by my buddy at Bad Advice today I busted a gut. My favorite passages are as follows:

…Then it got bad. The pain from the night before returned, only about a billion times more intense. I lay in bed, holding my belly, and praying it would stop making all those weird noises. It was like there were a dozen drunk elves running around in my intestines. I started to sweat as the rumbles and gurgles grew louder….

…Our bathroom is about three feet from our bed and when I heard Spyro let out what I will describe as “a bathroom noise,” it triggered my gag reflex. At the same time I felt a little gas wanting to sneak out downstairs. I rolled out of bed and discovered that it was actually a value-added fart. (Emphasis mine — Ed. Note) I threw my butt cheeks into lockdown, jammed my palm against my mouth and made a mad dash for the kitchen sink…

I would like to take this moment to thank the proprietress of Bad Advice for one of the most disgusting (and therefore funniest) accounts of a Valentine’s Day gone awry I have ever read. Then again I have grown to expect this kind of gritty, unflinching “in the trenches” view from the battlefield that is love (and occasionally war) from her. She is after all the woman responsible for raising my awareness about Smegmen. And for this I am eternally grateful.

Get well Dategirl— and thanks!

Miss Heather

*CAVEAT: this is not for the feint at heart.

Subway Poster Du Jour: M Is For MILF

April 15, 2009 ·
Filed under: Bushwick, Vomit, Williamsburg 

misformilf

Just when I thought television couldn’t possibly inflict anything worse on the viewing public I discovered this advertisement at Montrose Avenue stop of the L. Is it just me or do these young bucks look like they’re queued up for a gang bang? I suppose, metaphorically speaking, they are. I guess I should just be content that these gents have shirts on. Nonetheless I still find myself asking:

Why god, why?

Miss Heather

East Williamsburg Photos Du Jour: Meet The Graham Avenue Meat

February 24, 2009 ·
Filed under: Area 51, Bum Shit, Bushwick, Dog Shit, Dung of the Day, Other Shit, Vomit, Williamsburg 

meatinside

Meat on the inside…

vomitorshitorworse

and WTF on the out.

When Mr. Heather got home from work I asked him what he thought the above-depicted thing was. He said (in his unprofessional opinion) it was vomit from a dog who had eaten sausage with a lot of red dye in it (because he has seen this happen before). All I know is whoever (or WHATEVER) discharged this (one of the most revolting things I have ever seen in New York City— and this is really saying something) should probably visit a doctor…

or an exorcist.

Miss Heather

P.S.: I puked a little inside while writing this post.

Retail Space For Rent On Franklin Street!

December 1, 2008 ·
Filed under: Abjectecture, Greenpoint Magic, Vomit 

WOW. 500 -3,400 square feet sounds pretty phat. As does 1,400 – 5,200 square feet of “professional space”. But there’s one hitch…

it hasn’t been built yet.

Here’s a photograph of floor one of Karl Fischer’s 200 Franklin Street Frankenfinger . It was taken November 27, 2008. Do you honestly think these clowns are going to have this floor (much less a second floor of “professional space” and the heap of crap above it) completed by February 2009? Really?

But I suppose hope GREED springs eternal.

Miss Heather

Great Moments In Abjectecture: It Came From Clinton Hill

November 18, 2008 ·
Filed under: Abjectecture, Articles of Fedderization, Clinton Hill, Vomit 

I live in north Brooklyn. If that alone isn’t enough “street cred” to assess ugly buildings here’s something else.

I have watched this abomination of a “modification” blossom on Broadway. This building was once was exactly like its friend to your left. No more. Don’t believe me? Click here and see for yourself.

Which brings me to the purpose of this post. I have often asked myself:

What would happen if a balconized piece of abjectecture was “upzoned” thus further crappified?

Yesterday, dear readers, I got my answer. And it came from Clinton Hill:

THIS.

It hails from Lexington Avenue— and while more diminutive in stature than most of its craptastic brethren— I can honestly say it is one of the most hideous buildings I have ever seen. Given where I live (Greenpoint) that’s really saying something. It’s like they made it up as they went along. And, in all likelihood, they probably did.

Miss Heather

P.S.: Note how the “keystones” are carried over to the addition. Classy.

Halloween Video du Jour: Miss Heather Goes To Clinton Hill

October 30, 2008 ·
Filed under: Area 51, Greenpoint Magic, Vomit 

Yesterday it came to my attention via Gothamist that some folks had the temerity to say Greenpoint Halloween goodness is second to that to be found in Clinton Hill. hulaedwyn wrote:

This is pretty great, but IMHO, the house at 313 Clinton Ave in Brooklyn is better. And they have a show.

rarelement kicks it up a notch by stating:

This is NOTHING. Come to Clinton Avenue between DeKalb and Lafayette in Brooklyn on Halloween night…

Sure, Clinton Hill may roll out a good show come Halloween— but what about decapitated heads puking up blood? Satanic clowns? Or green vomit? This is the stuff the Garden Spot of the Universe is made of dear readers —and not exclusively on October 31 either! In my fair burgh every day is Halloween.

To this end I whipped out my Metrocard and headed down to Clinton Hill to see what all the fuss was about.

It is not my wish to diss my fellow G train travelers to the south. Rather, I suspect they espouse a different philosophy than we do up north. Namely, they think Halloween is for kids.

chuzzlewit got it right when she wrote about the above menagerie:

we live close to here, every october my daughter wants to move. we spend the whole month talking her down.

Night terrors and bed-wetting are what Halloween is really about. To Greenpoint adults, anyway.

Humor your neighbors to the north, Clinton Hill. We have beheld the true face of terror: it has six legs and a taste for blood!

Miss Heather

P.S.: You can see pix from my brief Clinton Hill excursion by clicking here.