Filed under: Dung of the Day
I took a friend of mine from out of town around the neighborhood today. Needless to say, I saw my fair share of butt dumplings, but this one took the cake. I found this gargantuan choad on Huron Street between Manhattan Avenue and Franklin Street. Enjoy!
Another day, another trek down McGuinness, another bounty of refuse.
Having lived in Greenpoint for almost six years, I am fascinated by the recent surge of condominium construction on McGuinness Boulevard. I have seen a number of developments going up along this strip from roughly Calyer Street northward, and I have frequently wondered to myself: why would anyone want to live there? Thus far, the best answer I can come up with is that these developers are banking on P.T. Barnum: there’s a sucker born every minute.
McGuinness Boulevard (to those of you not in the know) is a busy (READ: loud) thoroughfare. When the Pulaski Bridge is drawn (on a humidelicious hot summer day), the emissions from all the backed up vehicular traffic is thick enough to eat to spread on your toast. The fact that crossing McGuinness is in and of itself a death-defying task does not help matters. It is common knowledge among the locals here, myself included, that speeding cars hit buildings and other inanimate objects regularly. This being so, what chance does a slow-moving, less sturdily built biped have?
If any Hollywood hack sees fit to remake the movie Death Race 2000 —and why not, it’s a better movie than most of the ‘new’ crap the dream factory is churning out nowadays— I wholeheartedly endorse, no, I ADVOCATE, McGuinness Boulevard as the location to use.
Traffic-related concerns aside, there are a host of other reasons not to purchase one of these condos:
1. For starters, these properties are all in close proximity to the Fire Department. This is a good thing if you happen to pull a “Pryor” and set yourself on fire while free-basing, but for the rest of us, the roar of fire trucks at all hours may prove to be an annoyance.
2. Let’s say you purchase an apartment on a higher floor (away from the din of traffic), you can expect one of two things:
A. The view of Manhattan you were promised by your broker will be short-lived (once towers are tossed up on West Street).
B. You will have a ‘scratch and sniff’ view of the water treatment plant.
Lastly, it should be noted that the caliber of person who frequents McGuinness Boulevard is— how shall way put it— a bit lackluster? Don’t take my word for it, go and hang out at the Taco Bell ‘food court’ yourself. On any given (work) day you will find a motley crew of thugs, junkies, old Polish men sucking and grinding away at their dentures like a cow works a wad of cud, and “Joe Dirt” types whose curricula vitae can be found on a Post Office wall, “America’s Most Wanted” or a milk carton.
If you are not up that, simply walk along McGuinness and you will detect their presence: by their garbage and discarded chicken bones, ye shall know them…
Dog shit (at Java Street and McGuinness Blvd.) notwithstanding…
If I were a fly on the wall, I honestly do not know which of the following I would want to see more:
A. The fool who will pay 1/3 -1/2 million dollars to look at this pile of shit (and numerous other piles of shit, garbage and vomit) every day.
B. The broker/developer pandering these condos and the ‘spin’ he/she will put on the location.
McGuinness Boulevard is decidedly NOT Bedford Avenue— and it never will be— Robert Moses saw to that forty years ago. So, when you see an unwashed, unshaven and mop-headed man on Mickey Guiness rocking an AC/DC shirt, he is not aiming to be ironic or edgy. He attended AC/DC concerts back in the 70’s, got addicted to coke (meth or whatever), and is too shit-ass broke to buy new clothes.
I never knew that drug-addled poverty could be so chic. Thank you, B-Burg ‘Influx’ Hipsters!
A cheap holiday in other people’s misery, as Johnny Rotten put it— a ‘holiday’ made only more piquant when purchased with your parent’s money.
Yeah, that’s tearing the “man” (your old man) a new asshole.
Filed under: Dung of the Day
Here’s something you probably will not find on the Super Value Menu at McDonald’s, although I have seen something that looks suspiciously like this advertised in the window of Yummy Taco…
Do you want fries with that?
Filed under: Dog Shit
After several days of rain, I finally ventured out to run a few errands. Being in a terse and rather impatient mood, I walked down Franklin Street instead of Manhattan Avenue. Sure enough, I didn’t have to deal with too many people, but…
Franklin St. at Green St.
Franklin St. between Green and Huron St.
Franklin St. between Huron and India St.
AGAIN, Franklin St. between Huron and India St.
And… Franklin St. at Java St. makes five!
Filed under: Dog Shit Signage
There are a number of reasons I like living in Greenpoint, but if I had to pick my favorite reason (for the purposes of this blog anyway), it would be the homemade signage. Close your eyes and envision some form of socially unacceptable behavior and I can assure you there is an angry missive— scrawled in Sharpie marker— SOMEWHERE in this neighborhood deriding it.
But it isn’t simply the pervasiveness of signage in this neighborhood that intrigues me, as I have seen numerous signs— usually admonishing dog owners to scoop their poop— in many different areas of Brooklyn. For example, I have noticed that the homemade signage to be found in Park Slope, Cobble/Boerum Hill and Carroll Gardens is pretty straightforward and polite. Greenpoint signage, on the other hand, is second only to Red Hook (in my experience, anyway) in the use of profanity and threat(s) of physical violence.
The hoi polloi can keep their strollers, therapists, tea lounges, and superfluous civility; drunken Poles, empty Remy Martin bottles, feral packs of children gnawing on chicken bones and hard-hitting opening statements such as “Dear Fuck Mouth” resonate with me. It is this no-nonsense “pull yourself up by the bootstraps so you can pick up the drunk fuck next to you by the shirt collar and kick his ass” mentality that makes this country what it is today. For better or worse.
Follows are a couple of my favorite examples of Greenpoint signage with limited commentary.
It’s funny, when I cropped this image it began to look a wee bit like the Polish flag. Very appropriate to say the least.
Looks like this was written by the same person. I for one would like to meet “Neighbor”. I think we’d get along.
Filed under: 11222, Dung of the Day, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic
A number of people who have made my acquaintance are amused and confused by my veneration of “Dirty Harry”. Those who know me— REALLY know me— understood my glee when my father upgraded to the DVD “Dirty Harry” box set and I got his old VHS box set. The weekend immediately following this windfall was one uninterrupted “Dirty Harry” Testosteronathon replete with many a 12 ounce can of Budweiser so I could exhibit my femme macha by crushing them when the need arose.
One does not watch “Dirty Harry” movies for the plot (they’re all more or less interchangeable). One does not watch “Dirth Harry” movies for Oscar-caliber acting either (though Tyne Daly, Hal Holbrook and Mr. Eastwood are nothing to sniff at). NO SIR.
One watches “Dirty Harry” movies to enjoy some blue-chip ass kicking and the odd nugget(s) of witty repartee to be found therein. Simple as that.
Having established my “Dirty Harry” street cred, it should be known that my tastes regarding memorable quotes from these movies tend to run towards the oblique. Anyone (even those who have never seen any of the movies) knows the ubiquitous “Go ahead, make my Day”, but what about some of Harry Callahan’s more Zen-like words of wisdom?
If you have been kept up at night knocking around “Dirty Harry” quotes (as I have), today is your lucky day: with a little bit of Internet research I found the “Dirty Harry” quote (from “Sudden Impact”) which best epitomizes this blog and I am going to share it with you.
Listen, punk. To me you’re nothin’ but dogshit, you understand? And a lot of things can happen to dogshit. It can be scraped up with a shovel off the ground. It can dry up and blow away in the wind. Or it can be stepped on and squashed. (Or it can be wiped on a napkin and left on the sidewalk at MeseroleÂ Avenue and Diamond Street — Ed. Note) So take my advice and be careful where the dog shits ya!
Filed under: Canine Waste Law
I have been researching the Canine Waste Law (better known as the “Pooper Scoop” law) for a couple of days. This has been no small task; sure, there is a lion’s share of web sites that tell you to clean up after your dog— and it pretty much ends there. I am not satisfied with this answer. I want to know the exact letter of the law, what city agencies are responsible for its enforcement, and what penalties are assessed against violators.
While not all-inclusive, I think I have enough information to merit a post…
New York State Consolidated Laws, Article VI, Section 95 Â§ 161.03.: Control of dogs and other animals to prevent nuisance.
A person who owns, possesses or controls a dog, cat or other animal shall not permit the animal to commit a nuisance on a sidewalk of any public place, on a floor, wall, stairway or roof of any public or private premises used in common by the public, or on a fence, wall or stairway of a building abutting on a public place.
(Penalties for) Health code violations.
Notwithstanding the provisions of any other law, violations of subdivision (f) of section 11.65, 131.11, 139.07, 161.03, 161.05, 181.03, or 181.17 of the health code of the city are hereby declared to be violations. Punishment for violations of subdivision (f) of section 11.65, section 131.11, 139.07, 161.03, 161.05 or 181.03 shall be by a fine of not to exceed twenty-five dollars or by imprisonment for not to exceed ten days, or both and punishment for violations of section 181.17 shall be by a fine of not to exceed fifty dollars or by imprisonment for not to exceed fifteen days or both. Notwithstanding the provisions of any other law, punishment for violations of section 131.03 shall be by a fine of not to exceed two hundred dollars or by imprisonment for not to exceed three months or both.
The agencies responsible for enforcing the above-listed statute are the Departments of Sanitation and Parks and Recreation. If you wish to report someone who isn’t cleaning up his (or her) doggie doo, call 311 and they’ll hook you up with the “Sanitation Action Center”. Yes, that is the actual name of the enforcement arm of the DOS. (I don’t care what the “Sanitation Action Center” pays, I’ll work there just to have the privilege of listing THAT on my resume.)
Conclusion: I believe 10 days imprisonment is a bit heavy-handed for such an offense, but a (paltry) fine of $25.00 is asinine. Anyone can hustle $25.00— even me.
I was coming home from running errands yesterday when, about fifteen feet from my front door, something on the ground caught my eye.
I looked closer, and lo, it’s a vibrating cock ring and an empty pack of cigarettes! Looks like someone has been living la vida loca!
Now if there’s one thing Joe Camel has taught us all, it is that EVERYTHING goes down a little easier with a cigarette— including today’s “Dung of the Day”! This bad boy is on Green St. between Manhattan Ave. and Franklin St.
Smoke ’em if you got ’em!
Filed under: Dung of the Day
Today in midtown Manhattan my husband saw a doubledecker tour bus filled with Miss USA Contestants. No kidding.
Being an artist by education (if not by vocation— yet), I am all too aware that beauty lies exclusively in the eye of the beholder. Art is by its very nature subjective.
Today’s turd pageant has neither a swimsuit nor a talent segment, so I am left with the daunting task of judging the bounty of canine fecal goodness I documented today on looks alone…
But I have wasted enough of your time already; without further ado, I give you Miss McGuinness Blvd. and Eagle St.
Filed under: Dog Shit
Anyone familiar with the northernmost part of Greenpoint will tell you that it is not a very nice place. If anyone ever tries to tell you anything else to the contrary, RUN! He or she is probably a real estate broker, developer, or some other hitherto-unknown creature whose agenda is to separate you from your money.
Don’t believe me? Check this out.
Scroll down to “My Landlord can beat up Your Landlord”. Read it.
Who wrote this, you ask? Yours truly.
Slumlords, gang-banger wannabes, pipe/machete wielding Dominicans/Puerto Ricans/Mexicans, and crackheads aside, another distinguishing feature of this area is dog shit. LOTS of dog shit. ASTRONOMICAL amounts of dog shit.
Just to see if anything has changed since I lived there, I went down to my old ‘hood this morning. Specifically, I went to the area I consider ‘dog shit central’: McGuinness Blvd. between Eagle and Box St.
Upon cursory inspection, I noticed that a handful of the grassy areas between Box and Clay Street have since been filled with cement. My guess is that this measure was taken to discourage dogs from crapping in these beds. Did this deterrent appear to work? Yes. Did it cut down the overall amount of dog shit? NO.
While I applaud the motivation behind such a measure, the underlying logic is blissfully naive. Clearly, whoever concocted this scheme did not take into account how persistent the local populace is regarding the avoidance of cleaning up their dog shit. Ironically, filling in these beds (where one is less likely to step in the shit contained therein) has resulted in dog shit being placed right smack dab in the middle of the sidewalk (where one is more likely to step into a pile of crap).
Way to go, Einstein. Keep it up and maybe one day you’ll be elected president.