Culture on the Cheap
Don’t tread on me
After enduring over four hours of thumping pile driver beats, I decided to go for a walk. But right before I headed out the door I noticed that I had received an email. It was from one of my ‘nabes. A woman who is constantly tormented by Magic Johnson’s big-ass tool. She wrote:
Today’s pounding vibrated a glass jar off my counter. Maybe I should throw the shards on their site in a show of solidarity for my neighbors.
Wishing you sedatives,
Is there no end to 110 Green’s depravity? One day they are spraying 121 Huron Street with shattered glass, the next they torment a defenseless container into committing suicide. The monsters.
Well Magic’s crew may not give a flip about the safety or mental well being of their neighbors, but someone at 151 Green Street does. This person was kind enough to lay a nice bright safety cone next to a not-so-nice pile of dog shit.
Whoever did this, wherever you are— you will be mentioned in my prayers tonight.
P.S.: Looks like that sign 110 Green put up recently isn’t working too well. When I walked by there this evening all their DOB permits were gone. Whoever is responsible for this latest act of hooliganism saw fit to leave the “Keep Smiling” sign behind as a crowning flourish of “Fuck You”. Ah Greenpoint! How I love thee…